Date: Thu, 22 Jul 2010 11:18:28 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Reluctant Gladiator, Part Fifteen

RELUCTANT GLADIATOR - Part  Fifteen
A story by Pete Brown (petebrownuk @ yahoo.com)

Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

I was expecting Mike to be enraged by Straughan's words and that I would
have problems with him when we got back to our room, but in fact I had
problems of a different kind: Mike sat there with his head in his hands,
distraught.  "It's true, Steve", he told me.  "I am out of touch with the
younger guys - not just Darren, but the very young ones, those who've just
come here.  I haven't a clue what they're thinking.  I'm a gladiator
because I like fighting.  But what do these young guys think?  Especially
the ones who seem to be here only for the acrobatics?  And you heard him -
he's going to replace me.  And what then? It's over, Steve.  I'll be in the
mines in a couple of months."

"Keep a sense of perspective, Mike!  Straughan was probably upset, and said
more than he should have...."

"It's easy for you, Steve.  You'll be out of here one day anyway, and not
to the mines!  He said more than he should have, because now I know the
game is almost up for me.  If he hadn't been angry he'd never have let that
slip as he'd have wanted me to keep going right to the end...."

"Well worrying about it isn't going to change it.... Come on, you're
fighting tomorrow, and you need a good night's rest."

Mike still sat there, though, and eventually I had to gently force him to
lie down.  He still couldn't sleep and lay there, tossing and turning -
until I jerked him off very slowly and sensuously, as I knew Mike always
fell asleep after he'd cum.

The following morning Mike's mood had changed, and he was now angry - angry
at everything and everyone in sight.  He was masking his worry about hi
future by blaming the five young guys.  He prowled around the mess hall as
we were trying to have breakfast, snapping at anyone who as much as spoke
to him, and cuffing two or three of the young gladiators so hard that they
almost fell off the benches.  I tried to calm him, and he was pretty shitty
to me, too - in fact when he told me to shut up and I tried to argue with
him, he slapped me across the face, really hard.  The sound of it went
around the room, and everyone stopped eating and looked at us.  After that,
all the gladiators kept their heads down and tried to avoid Mike.

His foul bad temper lasted all day and that wasn't a bad thing, actually -
Mike's a pretty rough fighter at the best of times, and that night as we
all watched him in the large arena, he completely annihilated his opponent
in a really savage way. The crowd really loved it of course, as they like
to see a lot of blood, and at the end of the bout Mike stood over his
opponent with his foot on the poor guy's chest, waving his clenched fist
above his fist and literally roaring his victory.

I was expecting a bitch that night, and felt almost sorry for the poor girl
as with Mike in that mood he'd really fuck her hard.  But there was none,
and Mike seemed to have calmed down enough for me to ask why not.  "Steve,
it's almost all over for me.  There's no point in me fucking around any
more. I'm going to save my credits, Steve, and I'd like you to have them
when you get out of here."

"Thanks!  But what for?"

"To remember me by, Steve.  You're the only real buddy I've ever had, and
I'd like you to remember me."

"For fuck's sake, Mike, stop being so melodramatic.  You've got a long
future here still - look at the way you fought tonight.  Anyone can see
you're a Champion."

"Steve, stop trying to jerk me around.  We both know it's not a question of
whether I'll not be Champion one day, only one of 'when'.  Sooner or later
there'll be a younger, stronger, fitter gladiator who gets the edge over
me, and then I'll be on the downward slope...."

"You know what the say, Mike: change the things you can, and learn to
accept the things you can't.  I can't be more honest with you than that.
Yes, you'll stop being Champion one day, but who knows - Straughan might
keep you on as a trainer here - you've got more experience than anyone
else.  Or someone might buy you as a personal trainer...."

Mike shrugged.  "I don't think so, somehow.  They think I'm a good fighter,
but a vicious one.  Not like you, Steve - you're a good fighter, and they
see you as a nice guy, too.  And in any case I think the overall style is
changing - they definitely want more athletic, acrobatic fighting, and less
of the heavy slogging that you and I do."

I could see this was going nowhere, so I changed the subject.  "Whilst you
were lounging around today getting ready to fight, did you find out what's
going to happen to Jamie, Darren and the other three?"

"Straughan's pretty pissed off!  He's keeping them locked up with no food,
only water.  And tomorrow night they're going to be punished after dinner.
Jamie's seen the doctor, and at least he's OK - Darren did a good job on
his 'skinning, a proper 'high and tight', and Jamie's dick won't be
disfigured as it would have been if Darren had done it clumsily."

"I know they found out how he got the knife, but how did he learn to
circumcise a dick?  It's not the sort of thing they teach you in high
school biology."

"He talked to all the young gladiators who have been 'skinned here.  Most
of them remember enough about it so that they could piece together the
whole thing."

"And the punishment?"

"Dunno.  It's got to be something harsh, as Straughan's got to convince the
other gladiators not to take initiatives - we've supposed to be slaves, to
obey.  On the other hand it can't be too harsh - there are five of them in
it, and that's a big investment for Straughan.  He won't want to damage any
of them permanently - although he might, I guess, single out Darren for
something pretty dramatic...."

"He wouldn't order him to be castrated, would he?"

"Probably not.  Darren's a fantastic fighter, and Straughan will be looking
to make a lot of money from his fights in the future.  If he takes Darren's
balls, that would all be over - a gladiator needs all those hormones
raging."  Mike stopped for a moment, looked thoughtful, and added "But he
might have Darren stubbed.  That would show Darren just how serious his
offence was."

"Stubbed?"

"Cut his dick off.  Or most of it - slice through his dick about an inch
above the root.  It's pretty extreme, but it doesn't affect a gladiator's
ability to fight, not like cutting his balls off.  He can still piss and
everything as the dicks' really only a tube for that.  But no more sex, no
more fun...."

"You can't be serious...."

"I've seen it done here, Steve.  A year before you arrived there was a
gladiator who raped another guy, so Straughan had him stubbed.  No more
rape, obviously, and a real lesson to the rest of us."

I looked at Mike in sheer amazement.  "Not much of a lesson!  You raped me
- well, raped my throat..."

"You're a gladiator, Steve.  So what we do together is all in the game -
one gladiator rapes another is only like more advanced training, really.  I
mean, it didn't stop you from fighting, did it?  No, the problem was that
his gladiator raped a guy - a free man. Straughan had lent the gladiator to
another school for a few weeks, and on the way back the driver of the van
got a bit horny and decided he'd like sex with a gladiator - well, who
wouldn't?  It was all agreed, but the guard thought sex was all about him
fucking the gladiator, but the gladiator knew that a tougher, stronger,
more virile guy should make all the running... The guard cried rape, and
the gladiator got stubbed.  Then Straughan sold him a few months later, and
I think he did go as a personal trainer - some rich guy heard about the
story, and decided he'd like to fuck hard gladiator butt after his
exercise.  And there was no danger of rape, of course."

"Do you really think Straughan will stub Darren, then?"

"Fifty-fifty, if you ask me.  He needs to make an example.  And you know
Darren's always been a bit of a wild card, a real man's man, that the
others all look up to... So a hard lesson would send a strong message to a
lot of the younger gladiators.  On the other hand, a stubbed gladiator
looks a bit ridiculous in our uniforms, as everyone can see the front pouch
is pretty flat, and Straughan might take that into account Darren's future
earning potential in the arena."

I listened to all of this, and once again the realisation came to me that
in this world of slaves and gladiators different rules applied - it was all
a matter of economics, really.  What was Darren worth in terms of his
earning potential?  If it wasn't enough, then why not stub him, however
cruel it would be considered to disfigure a guy in that way normally?

As I practised the next day I kept thinking of the five young guys, then
finally we went into dinner and the mess hall was unusually tense that
evening. There was a buzz of excitement as ate our dinner. Everyone kept
looking around, wondering what was going to happen.  As we finished eating,
the doors were thrown open and Straughan came in followed by guards with
their tasers out, and the five guys all naked.  They'd been shaved all over
so that they looked particularly young and vulnerable, and seemed very
embarrassed about being reduced back to the state of young trainees.  We'd
heard that they hadn't been fed, and after two days without food I fancied
I could almost see their ribs sticking out - you've got to remember that us
gladiators work exceptionally hard and our metabolisms are in high gear:
we're normally always ravenously hungry anyway, so being deprived of food
would be a terrible punishment anyway.  It was a pretty shocking experience
 already, as normally we could fool ourselves into thinking that although
we were slaves, we were well treated as we were valued as gladiators.  And
now we saw exactly what could happen - Straughan could decide to have us
humiliated, lock us up, starve us... and, as we were about to hear, order
us to be punished.  There was no trial, no court, no appeal - we were
Straughan's property, and he could do with us as he liked.

We all gasped, because these were proper gladiators and now they had been
taken back to look like trainees - they were all stark naked, and had been
totally body shaved!  They stood there in front of us looking so ashamed of
themselves, and one or two tried to hold their hands in front of their
genitals as if to hide those bare organs from us.  I noticed that Jamie's
dick had a bloodstained bandage around it, and that Darren was looking
particularly embarrassed: I remembered how proud he was after his
eighteenth, when his pubes had been allowed to grow again and he'd worn his
uniform slung low as if to show them off - it must be terrible for him to
be reduced to this "trainee" state again.  Even worse, though, was their
general look - we'd heard that they had been kept without food and only
allowed water, and perhaps it was only in my imagination that their ribs
were sticking out through their skin - you need to think that gladiators
live a pretty
 strenuous life in fighting and training, so we have a huge need for
energy.  Keeping these guys without food would be pretty serious.

Straughan held up his hand and the room fell silent.  "We are here tonight
to see these gladiators punished", he told us.  "Punished for daring to
attempt to take control of their own lives.  All you men know that a
gladiator is here to obey, to fight when ordered, and that nothing else
matters.  Yet these ungrateful men, these men who were part of the
honourable brotherhood of gladiators, decided to embark on a totally
unauthorised body modification to one of their number - a body modification
which, for reasons which I do not yet choose to reveal, I had specifically
decided against.  So they must be punished, both to reinforce to them the
heinous nature of their offence, and to remind all of you that I will
tolerate no breach of the discipline under which we all live here in the
school."

"You may not appreciate it, but you have relatively free lives: you train,
but you are well fed, you get time for relaxation by the pool, the rules of
combat mean that it is unlikely that you will lose your life in the arena
or suffer a life-threatening injury, you're allowed to choose the
companions in your rooms at night, bitches are provided for your pleasure,
and we do not attempt to order every waking minute - compared to criminals
in prison, you men live in a paradise of freedom - provided you behave, the
guards do not interfere.  But these men cast all that to one side, and
decided to act contrary to the rules of our society here.  To protect that
society and to allow all of you to continue to enjoy the relative freedom
of life as a gladiator, rather than as a common slave, they need
punishment."

Mike whispered to me "I'd never thought of it like that, but he's right,
isn't he, Steve?"

Straughan continued "These gladiators are, nevertheless, valuable
properties.  I have therefore to consider their punishment carefully, so
that it commensurate with the nature of their crime, but yet not damaging
to the success of Philips' Fighters.  So I have not, as I could have as
they are all common slaves, decided to order them to be unmanned.  They may
keep their testicles."

I saw one of the three young guys who'd held Jamie down relax a bit as
Straughan said this.  He went on "It is also desirous that gladiators
should make a good 'show' in the arena.  Men who come her want to see men,
real men, men who are visibly men, fight for their entertainment.  And so
for this reason 'stubbing' is not going to be performed."

Everyone now seemed to relax a bit as he said this.  "But let there be no
misunderstanding - any gladiator who attempts anything like this again, or
who breaks the rules under which we live to any serious degree, will indeed
be stubbed.  These gladiators, however, are to be treated somewhat
leniently: I have taken into account their relative youth, and that they
thought they were doing one of their number a favour - 'esprit de corps' is
valuable to gladiators.  Consequently they are to suffer 'only' the
punishment cane."

The watching gladiators started to murmur with approval.  But Straughan
continued "As some of you will know, six strokes administered by a
corrections officer is considered a severe punishment.  The three
gladiators who were peripherally involved will however receive twelve
strokes."

There were gasps from some of my fellow gladiators, who probably, like me,
had received a punishment caning and could remember how it was.  "....and
Jamie and Darren, the planners and instigators, will each receive
eighteen."

There were gasps of astonishment as he said this, but Straughan raised his
hand for quiet and continued "Furthermore, the punishment cane is normally
administered by a law officer who is a normal man.  But I have decided that
these beatings will be performed by really strong men, men who can wield
the cane with all the force that their trained bodies can bring to bear on
it.  My Champion. Mike, will perform the first part of the punishment."

I saw Mike look a little surprised, then he gave a little shrug, as if to
say "so what?".  I moved close to him and whispered "Go easy on them,
Mike...".

"You heard Straughan, Steve.  They're getting off lightly.  And they do
need to be taught a lesson.  And Straughan has picked me to do it, as the
Champion.  So I'm not going to fail him."

We all watched as the five gladiators were marched to stand against one of
the mess tables, then were ordered to bend over.  Their bodies were close
together, touching, and I hoped that his provided them with some comfort.
Straughan handed Mike a punishment cane - long, flexible, and thick, and he
stood behind the first of the young guys, and began to vigorously and
remorselessly lay the cane into him.

As you'd expect, the young guy howled and screamed.  And he lost control of
his bladder and was pissing all over the floor.  We could all see the way
his body jerked as the cane landed, and the bright red line that formed
across his butt from the impact.

When he finished the first one, I could see that Mike was already starting
to sweat from the sheer physical energy that he was putting into it, and it
was the same for numbers two and three.  Then he stood by Darren's ass, and
I wondered what thoughts were going through his mind - after all, he knew
Darren idolised him, and had on so many occasions enjoyed the attention of
Darren's lips and hands on his dick.  But it seemed to make no difference
to Mike - indeed, it was almost as if he was hitting Darren particularly
hard as if to prove a point and demonstrate his utter loyalty to Straughan.
Darren had always been bold and brave, as I've told you, and he didn't
start screaming until about the fourth stroke.  And he managed to control
his bladder until the thirteenth.  But in spite of his courage, at the end
he too was reduced to a helpless, whimpering thing sprawled across the
table, as if unable to move.

Sweat was pouring off Mike now, and he moved on to Jamie at the end of the
line.  But Straughan stopped him.  "No, Mike.  You're tiring.  I want Steve
to punish this one."

I went rigid with shock.  "Please, Mr Straughan, please, no..."

Straughan said to me, quietly so that none of the others could hear "You
want to own this slave, so it will be good for you, Steve, to take
responsibility for punishing him.  A good owner knows that a slave needs
his owner to punish him when he deserves it,. Jamie here knows he did very
wrong in defying my orders, and as a good owner he will be expecting me to
punish him, and it will be good practice for you.  So you will take the
cane, and administer eighteen strokes on that butt of his."

I remembered the agony I'd been through when I'd received only twelve, and
I knew there was no way I could do this to Jamie.  "Please, please, sir,
please, no."

"Are you defying me, Steve?"

I stood there.  It was a real moment of decision.  Time seemed to stand
still.  Then I said, utterly calmly, "I won't do it, sir."

"Strip off that uniform, and take your place at the end of the line then!",
Straughan said, sounding as calm as I felt.

The room went quiet, wondering what was happening, as I pushed down my
uniform and walked forward, naked, to lie beside Jamie.

"Begin, Mike", Straughan ordered.  "The eighteen ordered for Jamie, and now
an additional twelve, for Steve."

I know I screamed and cried and thrashed around - my second experience of
the punishment cane was even worse than the first, probably because Mike
really did have such tremendous power in his arms.  But I did not piss all
over the floor, at least.  I'd sort of hoped that compared to the judicial
caning I'd had at the start of all of this the pain would be less - after
all, my body had learned a higher tolerance of pain by now.  But if
anything it was worse, although that was perhaps because of the power with
which Mike wielded he cane compared with the municipal correction officers
I'd experienced before.

When it was over we were all made to continue to lie there as all the other
gladiators filed past so that they could inspect the stripes across our
butts in great detail.  Then we were marched off and thrown together into a
bare "punishment cell" - stark plain concrete walls and floor, with a hole
in the floor to piss and crap into, but nothing else.  We spent a wretched
night - we all hurt, hurt dreadfully, and the concrete was cold and
completely unsympathetic to the needs of our bodies.  My own body was
screaming in pain, but I felt terribly for the other guys - they were
hungry, too, dreadfully hungry.  We all huddled together, trying to take
what comfort and warmth we could from each others bodies, and in spite of
all this closeness, none of us had even the stirrings of an erection.

They made us go into the mess room for breakfast, too - not so we could
eat, but so that we could stand there "nose and toe", as it's called, as
all the other gladiators filed in past us, ate, then filed out.  It sounds
easy, I know - simply face the wall and press your nose and your toes
against it, but it's a pretty unnatural position and after a few minutes in
addition to our other pains we were all experiencing bad muscle cramps.
None of the other gladiators seemed to be very sympathetic towards us, and
some of them even slapped at our butts as they went past - we couldn't help
crying out involuntarily as they did this as a fresh wave of pain from the
stripes on our butts shot through us.

We were going to have to exercise as usual that day, it seemed, but before
then there was one further level of humiliation facing me.  Straughan
ordered me into the showers at the end of breakfast, and Mike was sanding
there with a razor.  Straughan watched as Mike soaped me, and then began
methodically to shave off every trace of hair from my body!  At the end of
it, I was as smooth as the other five guys - as soon as he'd started I knew
it as useless to plead with Mike not to do it, not to humiliate me like
this, as he was going to obey Straughan's orders come what may.

Straughan had ordered that the six of us should continue to be totally
naked, so now in addition to the agony in my body and the problems of
working out naked that I've already told you about, I had the additional
shame of having the gladiators see my shaved body.  Without the hair on my
chest, my trail, and of course my pubes, I felt small and inadequate
compared to the virile men around me.

That night Mike was a bit sympathetic, and he'd actually "borrowed" some of
the soothing massage oil from the infirmary, the one with an analgesic
effect.  He told me to lie down, and then knelt over me massaging it into
my butt.  He was looking for approval for this, and I think I was probably
unkind when I told him that if he hadn't hit me so fucking had it wouldn't
be quite so necessary.  "So what did you want me to do, Steve?  Hit you
less heavily than the other five?"

"No - not to hit all of us so fucking hard!"

"You just don't get it, even now, do you, Steve?  I'm the Champion, and
part of that is being responsible for discipline.  It's my fault that
anyone was caned at all - if I'd really had my ear to the ground I'd have
known what Jamie and Darren were planning and all this would have been
avoided as I'd have thrashed them privately - a few punches would have
knocked the idea out of them.  But once they defied the system publicly
like that it was out of my hands - I was ordered to cane them, and I had to
do it."

He paused and continued "And as for caning you - well, it's your own
fucking fault, isn't it?  So don't blame me!  You're a gladiator, and a
gladiator here is meant to obey Straughan's orders.  He told you to cane
Jamie, and you refused - so what was he to do?  If he'd let you get away
with disobeying a direct order there'd be anarchy here soon enough.  You're
a slave, remember?  And what are slaves supposed to do?  Obey orders!"

I was feeling a bit better as the soothing analgesic oil made its way into
my throbbing nerve endings, and Mike started to massage me more sensuously,
allowing his oiled hands to slip down my ass crack.  "You know, Steve, I
think I'm going to like this smooth you - if you could only turn over I
reckon jerking you off is going to be kind of exciting without all that
hair in the way - it's going to be a bit like playing with one of the very
young guys when they first arrive!"

"Fuck you...."

"Only joking, Steve.  You'd better lie there on your belly, and we'll play
tomorrow."

End Of Part Fifteen