Date: Sun, 10 Jul 2011 10:46:39 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Reluctant Gladiator, Part 37

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

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

I decided not to watch the older men that afternoon as they "enjoyed"
Jamie, Darren and Luke. I'd admonished my slaves to behave and to do
whatever they were asked, and reminded them how important it was to us to
get Darren's leg fixed properly - and, after all, what on earth could
happen to them anyway?  They had already fucked in front of the men, so
doing it again could be no worse.  And I reminded them that there was no
harm in sucking an older man's dick, or allowing themselves to be fondled
or "inspected" or whatever - at the School the young gladiators were all
used to a greater or lesser extent by the older gladiators, after all, and
the only difference here was that the older men would not have anything
like such superb bodies!

The warm sunshine and the lovely surroundings at the "cabin" soon got the
better of me, and I lay on my belly, my head comfortably cradled in my
folded arms, and drifted in and out of sleep. From time to time I could
hear cheering and clapping, so I assumed the lads were putting on a good
show, and everything seemed somehow right with the world.  I think I
realised that it would be easy to become seduced into the life of a slave
owner: here I was, warm and comfortable, with no need to do anything,
whilst my slaves worked away on my behalf.  Sure, they were not "working"
in the conventional sense, but their efforts and labour this afternoon were
producing rewards for me.  I began to wonder if it might be possible to
take out a loan and buy another slave or two - I was after all already
housing and feeding three and taking them off to work on the construction
sites every day, and having say five would produce no additional overhead
so I could turn a very
 reasonable profit.  Then I stopped myself!  What was I thinking?  I'd
hated being a slave, and all I'd wanted to do was to get my indenture over
so I could be free again.  And I wanted the same sort of thing for Jamie,
Darren and Luke - it couldn't be the same, of course, as two of them were
permanent slaves so no freedom was ever possible, but I could continue to
"own" them and they could be "free" in all but name.

My reverie was brought to an end when one of the men who was a guest of the
surgeon sat beside me, touched me lightly to get his attention, then asked
"What would you take for the slave of yours?  The older one, the one who's
unspoiled - Jamie, I think he's called."

"He's not for sale!"  I tried to sound affable, but maybe my tone was a
little harsh as the question had been so unexpected.  And, I suppose, I'd
never ever considered selling any of the three lads, let alone in
circumstances like these.  Indeed, it was a bit shocking to think about
selling another man at all.

"Oh come, my good sir - he's a slave.  You can sell him if you wish.  Are
we just about to begin a discussion about the price?  Everything has it's
price..."

"No, I'm sorry, he's not for sale."

"Come, come, sir - a handsome slave like that deserves to be more widely
available.  Once you've finished with him, and I've used him, he can be
passed on to another owner.... You owe it to your fellow men to give more
of us the opportunity of enjoying such a fine piece of man flesh. I know he
is a very fine property and seems intelligent, but surely you will soon
tire even of such perfection?  Let's strike a deal whereby I pay you now
but take collection in say three months? That will give you time to take
your last remaining pleasures from him.... And think, with a good price,
you can shop around for another tasty morsel to excite you...."

"NO!  I'm sorry, but he's absolutely not for sale...."

The man smiled in a sort of ingratiating way.  "I can see you're still a
young man yourself, my good sir.  But let me give you a piece of advice
from one who is a lot older - sooner or later you will begin too tire of
the pleasures to be had from any slave, and it will become time to move on.
Better to acknowledge this up front before all the joys of a physical
dalliance - and even some emotional attraction, I suppose - wear off.
Strike a deal now so that there's an end in sight (forgive my pun - but the
slave's butt is a perfect delight!), then you can start looking for a
replacement, and that will certainly help assuage any lingering regard you
might feel for him.....  I make it a rule not to keep my pleasure slaves
for more than six months before I sell and re-buy, and the trading process
itself adds a real excitement on top of the pleasures of the flesh...."

"Look, honestly, he's not for sale.  He's never going to be for sale.  He's
not just a pleasure slave of mine - we go back a long way, and were
gladiators together...."

"...so one of the others?  The younger brother?  I could have the enjoyment
of seeing him mature...."

"No, I'm sorry!  Luke isn't a full slave anyway - he's a five-year
indenture...."

"All the more reason for taking a profit now!  The value of those
indentures goes down as they near the end of their time, you know.  So why
not sell him whilst you can?"

"No, I couldn't do that.  He's Jamie's brother, and I want to keep them
together...."  "Well I do envy you, sir!  A comely pair of males like those
two to serve you, with that extra frisson of excitement from the
incest.... Do you fuck them both, or have them fuck each other in front of
you?"  He paused for a moment, seemingly completely unaware of my rising
irritation and anger at being questioned about this.  I mean, a free man
can ask a slave if he fucks, but you don't go around asking that question
of other free men, do you? I really resented being considered as some sort
of not-quite free person, just because I'd performed for them earlier.  He
pressed on, though.  "So what about the third one, the one with the bad
leg?  I'll give you a good price for him, once his leg's right."

"No.  We were gladiators together, and we're part of a brotherhood, bound
together...."

The man smirked, and I felt like punching him as he added "A brotherhood
bound together but liberally lubricated with semen, I think...."

I got up and stalked off, aware that he was probably looking at my naked
body and thinking laviscous thoughts of how he would use me.  I was so
fucking lucky to be free again, and there would never be any possibility of
being sold again and passed from one owner to another until they tired of
using me.  I suppose I'd grown to believe that being a gladiator slave was
somehow heroic, but this guy had made me realise that sooner or later, once
I was no longer performing well in the arena, I would be sold off.  They
always talked about the mines, or becoming an agricultural slave in a
coffle, but now I saw that the fate of most "retired" gladiators would be
to be used as a "pleasure slave" for a succession of old men, until I was
past even that.

I began to get angry, and I no longer really cared what the surgeon wanted
- and anyway I thought I'd done enough - so I went and found my clothes,
still lying there from where he'd had me strip like the others, and pulled
on my shorts.  I was sweating so much that I decided to keep my polo off,
though - somehow it pleased me to think that I'd be showing the hard
muscles of a real man to the others at the end of the afternoon, in
contrast to their own tired old flabby bodies.  Even though I've got
absolutely nothing to be ashamed of about my body, it was somehow
comforting to be able to choose to lie in the sun with shorts on if I
wanted to, and not have someone order me to be totally naked.

There's a limit I suppose, to the amount of sex that men want however
exciting it starts out to be, and about half an hour later this limit must
have been reached as Jamie, Luke and Darren were standing around me as I
woke from another little doze.  I tried to look cheerful as I asked "All
done, then?"

They looked really glum and just stood there, so I told them to take a
final swim to get themselves really clean, and that they could then dress.
I got up from my lounger and went and found the surgeon, and told him we
were about to leave.  I also saw the other guy who had said he would
arrange the hospital room, and I got them to agree that we'd take Darren in
the following Wednesday for his operation - I didn't want there to be any
mistakes, or any backsliding on it, and it seemed to be a good idea for all
their friends to hear these arrangements, too, as it would probably make
them much more difficult to break.

My three slaves remained unhappy-looking as the men clustered around them -
supposedly shaking their hands, but taking the opportunity of a final
"touch" with an arm around the lads' shoulders, or a "friendly" caress of
their butts.  I thought it was wrong of them, actually, to appear not to be
happy - a lot of the guys were giving them "tips", tucking bills down the
front of their shorts, and the least that Jamie, Darren and Luke could do
was to look grateful!  It really pissed me off when their sullen resentment
continued as we drove back to the city - I tried to make conversation and
all I got was monosyllabic "yes" and "no" from all of them.  Finally I lost
my patience and snapped "You guys need to lighten up!  You've had a day out
in the country, we've done what we wanted to for Darren...."

"It's OK for you, Steve!", Jamie retorted.  "You didn't have to do what we
did...."

"You seem to forget that I got fucked, too..."

"Yes, but not like we did...."

I was almost shouting now.  "Not like you did?  How different can it be?
And you forget that I'm a free man, and you're slaves!  It's fucking
humiliating for a free man to have to strip naked and then get fucked in
front of an audience...."

"...and it's not humiliating for a slave, then?", Jamie retorted.

"No, Jamie.  Not in the same way.  You forget that a slave is owned
property - my owned property, in your case.  And a slave has to do as his
owner commands.  And if he's then executing a command, that's his function,
that's what he does.  There can be no shame for a slave if he's properly
following his owner's orders...."

"Well I hated it too, Steve...", Luke added.

"What's to hate?  You guys all have sex...."

"But not with a lot of old guys watching.  And it's different when I suck
your dick, Steve - you're a real man.  But one of those guys.... I had to
lift his great sagging belly up be able to get my mouth around his
dick...."

"Yes", Darren cut in. "And I almost had the breath crushed out of me, as
one of the guys who fucked me was so enormously fat....."

I suppose I did begin to feel sympathy for them, and, anyway, I didn't want
all this sulleness and arguments all the way back, so I changed my tone and
tried to be conciliatory.  "Look, guys, so OK it wasn't as good as the sex
we usually have. But maybe that's a lesson for the future?  We're all going
to get old one day...."

"But not fat and flabby!", Luke said.

"...anyway, even if you didn't enjoy it, let's remember why we were doing
this, OK?  It's so that we get Darren's leg fixed - and I reckon we've
achieved our mission: next week we not only have a really good surgeon, but
we have a fine hospital, as well...."  I turned around briefly so that they
could all see me smiling as I added "Look, you can't change the past.
What's done is done, so let's put this all behind us.  Now I saw some of
those guys giving you 'tips', which are of course mine as you're my
slaves... But let's celebrate, shall we?  We'll stop at a restaurant and
I'll use some of it on a steak dinner for all of us."

You'd have thought that would have been the end of it, but I could sense
there was still resentment as at the end of the evening all three of them
complained that the dinner had not cost as much as the total of their tips,
so I was "profiting" from the whole thing (even though they had no right to
expect anything, of course, and I was being generous).  And Luke even
pointed out that as I'd had a beer and a bigger steak than he had, I really
"owed" him for taking more than my "fair share".  Somehow they just didn't
seem to "get" that I was their owner, and it was me who was being generous
in letting them have any steak at all - I wondered how they'd feel if, like
some owners, I simply fed them slave chow, which would certainly be a lot
cheaper!

I'm not the kind of guy who can remain resentful for long, though, and once
we'd got home and were all in bed, I curled my arm around Luke and pressed
my dick against his ass crack, then let my hand roam down his belly and
began to stroke his dick.  The physical closeness swept away all the
unpleasantness, and he turned around to face me, then rubbed his hard dick
up and down around mine, pressing his lips to my nips and sucking them
eagerly, which he knows I like.  I guess there is something about owning a
healthy, strong young slave, and perhaps I'd been thinking too harshly of
those old men at the lake!

I'm not going to bore you with all the details of Darren's operation.
Everything went like clockwork, though, and the guys at the lake seemed to
have followed through as Darren had a really nice room for the two days he
was in the place. And what was even better was that the surgeon seemed to
be sticking to our agreement, too, in that I did not have to perform any
more humiliating sex acts for him at the hospital.  I had been expecting
him to require me to at least strip so that he could ogle my body before he
began the operation, but perhaps seeing Darren naked was enough - I think
some of the nurses thought it a bit odd that Darren was made to lie on the
operating table totally in the nude instead of being "decently" covered
with sterile dressings and so on, but perhaps that's how the surgeon got
his kicks.  Anyway, who am I to complain about something as trivial as
that? It's not as if displaying your body costs you anything after all,
especially if
 you can be proud of it, as all we were of ours.

Darren had about a week with the leg in an enormous plaster which really
cramped his style when it came to sex, as all he and Jamie could do was a
lot of mutual masturbation and sucking of each others dicks, but after that
he seemed to make a remarkable fast recovery - the hospital had suggested
"extensive" physiotherapy which of course we could not afford, but it
didn't seem to make all that much difference as he went back to work on the
construction sites with the other two and that seemed to do the trick.
Perhaps all that physiotherapy stuff is needed if you sit at a desk all
day, but Darren was of course doing hard manual labour, which can't have
been all that different from what the therapists would have done to him in
terms of using all his muscles to the full.

I guess our story could have ended here, as we were all living a pretty
comfortable life: Darren and Jamie had each other, I could fuck Luke when
ever I wanted, they were all treated pretty well considering they were
slaves, and I had a good life I guess: with three of them working I had
enough money and was even managing to make some savings. At some point I
reckoned I'd be able to afford an apartment rather than living in the
run-down place we were, perhaps even somewhere with a pool in the complex.
But things are never that simple, are they?  I know some of you will be
pretty envious of me as I had Luke for sex all the time, and could also use
Jamie and Darren if I wanted to - for a guy of my age to have such lusty,
virile young guys to fuck must sound like heaven.  You're right, of course
- take three young guys, work them hard so their bodies are tough and
toned, and there can be really spectacular sex; and not just one on one,
either: sometimes
 on a Saturday night we'd all share one bed and then after I'd had a few
beers I could lie there with three dicks to play with and three asses to
fuck.

There's a problem, though - sex, even great athletic sex with nice guys,
simply isn't enough.  Luke and Jamie and Darren were of a different
"generation" to me, and it showed in all sorts of ways - I liked my jeans
tight to show off my body, and when I let them choose, they all went for
baggy ones; we had "arguments" about what to watch on TV and they sulked
when I exercised my owner's prerogative and watched a movie rather than
some mindless game show; they got a radio from somewhere and wanted it on
all the time playing some heavy beat stuff, and so on.  Worst of all, I
suppose, was that we didn't have a whole lot to talk about after sex, and I
began to feel jealous lying there with Luke and listening to Jamie and
Darren whispering and laughing together after they'd fucked - and when I
let Luke join the other two and I was trying to sleep, hearing the three of
them laughing and talking as they explored each others bodies was almost
more than I could
 bear.

It all came to a head one day when after what had been a great bout of sex
for the three of them (I'd let Luke go and "play" with Darren and his
brother) I shouted across at them to shut the fuck up and be quiet as I was
trying to get to sleep.  They carried on laughing and chatting (in hushed
tones, admittedly) but you know how irritating that can be, and suddenly I
could stand no more of it - I threw off the covers and went over and stood
over them and ordered them to lie still and be quiet.

"What the fuck's the matter with you, Steve?", Jamie demanded.  "Give us
guys a break, will you?"

"He's frustrated, that's what", Darren cut in.  "Look at his dick - he
needs a good fuck.  Is that what the problem is, Steve?  You're not getting
enough of it...?"

"No, he can't keep up with us young guys, and he's jealous" Jamie
continued.  "He can't have any fun himself as he tires out too quickly, so
he doesn't want us to have any, either...."

I was furious now, especially as none of it was true!  I could fuck with
the best of them, but for me it was no longer really satisfying - it was
just pure mechanical sex with their splendid bodies, and I wanted more.  I
ordered them to shut up and lie still and told them that if they didn't I
was still strong enough to take any of them on and give them a good
thrashing.  Then I crawled back into my own bed.  As I lay there jerking
off, I knew what I wanted: I needed a good, strong real man's body to fuck
and then to hold.... I missed Mike, and I needed him.

We were all still bad tempered when I sent them off to the site the next
morning, and even a good hard workout in the gym did not lift my mood.  At
lunchtime I called Jon and went to see him that afternoon, and we sat there
and talked - it's hard, I know, to talk about these things, but I suppose I
had a long relationship with Jon and that somehow made it easier.  After
I'd said my piece, Jon looked at me and said "Well you've got a problem,
Steve, as Mike's a slave and a gladiator.  I have to say I haven't seen his
name on the game bills recently...."

"Well I guess that after I beat him, he'd have started to go down the
bill... Gradually he'd have dropped to the bottom of the lists at Phillips'
Fighters.... It happens to all gladiators, even champions like Mike, as
there's a constant upward pressure from the younger guys and sooner or
later you start to lose to them and you drift downwards in the lists...."

"And what then?"

"Well after a time I guess Phillips' sell you on.  They're in the top
league, and when a gladiator can no longer meet the standard, they sell you
to one of the second-tier arenas.... Unless of course Straughan decides to
keep you on as a trainer, but that's rare, and I don't think Straughan
would think Mike was 'suitable' for that as he was always a bit of a rebel
- well, as much of a rebel as you can be then you're a slave!"

Jon turned to his laptop and keyed a lot of stuff in, then turned back to
me.  "You're right, Steve.  There's a lot of stuff about a 'new champion'
at some place called 'The Empire'..."

"Definitely second league...."

More typing, then "But soon Mike seems to have moved to 'The Pit'..."

"Oh no!  That's the gladiator's bone yard!  They only have the ones who a
really past it - no longer a whole lot of skill, just nearly burned-out
guys slugging at each other until someone gets hurt and has to stop...."

"...and then nothing, Steve.  Nothing at all for the past couple of
months."

"That means either that he's been injured really seriously, or maybe that
some patron took a real fancy to him and bought him as a personal trainer."

"Is that what happens then at the end of the line?", Jon's tone was
solicitous, as he could see that I was worried.

"Well it can.... But there aren't a lot of personal trainers around, so
most probably he was injured."

"And then what?"

"It depends on how badly.... If he can't fight, but is otherwise mostly OK,
then you get sent to the mines. "

"That's barbaric, Steve!  They usually only use criminals down there...."

"You've got to remember, Jon, that a lot of gladiators were criminals.  But
really it's because people are afraid of them - you've got big, strong fit
fighters who know how to use their bodies.... They're not considered safe
as 'ordinary' slaves, so the expedient thing to do is to send them down the
mines.  Once they're safely underground, there's almost no danger of them
escaping...."

Jon reached for the phone.  "Well there's one way of settling this....."
As I watched he looked for a number on his screen, then dialled.  He at
once adopted his "I'm in authority" tone to whoever was at the other end,
insisted that he be connected with a "person of authority", and took it
from there.  When he put the phone down I already knew the worst from the
half of the conversation I' heard: Mike had indeed been sold off, to a
mining company in Tennessee.

Jon saw the look of horror on my face.  "Come on, Steve - it can't be that
bad.  I know Mike's a slave, but that means he can be bought and sold...."

"But not from the mines, Jon!  Everyone knows that.  Once you're down
there, that's the end.  I'll never see Mike again....."

"Leave it with me, Steve.  Us lawyers have a few tricks, you know..... Give
me a few days to make some calls, call in a few favours...."  He hesitated,
and then said "I don't suppose you'd like to spend the rest of the
afternoon in bed, would you?  Ann's away at a conference....."

I didn't want to.  I hate acting like I'm some sort of hired stud as I had
been when I'd first met Jon.  But he looked so hopeful, and he was offering
to help.  I smiled as best I could, stood up, and pulled up my T, then
dropped my jeans.  I allowed him to admire my body for a few moments, then
pushed my thumbs in the waist band of my briefs and levered them down, too
- in spite of my lack of interest, I'd been well trained as a gladiator as
to what to do in front of a "client", and I was gratified to feel my dick
snap upwards as it was released from its confinement.  Jon couldn't take
his eyes off my dick, and I saw the tip of his tongue licking his lips.

"On your knees, then!", I said authoritatively.  "I haven't got all
afternoon, but I need relief, as you can see, and you look ready to suck a
man's cock...."

It's surprising, really, how much satisfaction I got from that simple act.
Seeing Jon, a rich, successful corporate guy on his knees in front of me
sucking my dick, and not just sucking it gently as a buddy might, but
slathering and slobbering over it, then rubbing it all over his cheeks as
he pushed his nose into my clipped pubes so his tongue could lick my balls
so eagerly.... It was as if he had a desperate hunger for my dick, as if he
needed to take it down his throat until he choked and gagged and his bile
and slime coated and slicked it.  I couldn't resist reaching down and
pushing his head right against me, so that I could feel his hands scrabble
at my butt as he tried to get free - but the moment I loosened my grip, he
went in again of his own accord as if this small exercise of my power was
unnecessary.

When I felt my climax approaching I didn't let him swallow it, but instead
pulled my dick out from his hot mouth, then shot all over his face.  I
looked down to see his sweating face covered now in streaks of my cum, then
reached down with a finger to guide them into his mouth, and finally
allowed him to suck my fingers clean.  As his breathing slowed he muttered
quietly "Thank you, Steve.... Thank you!", so I guess we were both
satisfied.

That night I fucked Luke hard, making him lie on his belly with my body
right on top of him.  I knew my weight would be oppressive, and I didn't
care - I wanted to feel he was totally in my power, and I particularly like
the way that as I slid my dick into him he tried to wriggle forwards as if
to escape me, except that my hands on his shoulders prevented that.  Then I
did that long, long, slow fuck when I barely moved my butt up and down as
my dick went only a few centimetres in and out of him, but maximising my
sensation as I also swayed from side to side so it was as if my dick was
"stirring" something in his ass.  He cried and moaned, and his passionate
response to me triggered the need to push my head down between his neck and
shoulders so I could smell his enticing young man's sweat, and then in my
passion bite into his skin to "mark" him as mine.

When I'd finished I still lay there on top of him, allowing my dick to
soften inside his now moist ass.  Then I pulled out and lay on my back,
staring at the ceiling, my passion spent.  Luke lay beside me, still on his
belly, and I suppose I was surprised to see a tear trickle from the corner
of his eye.

"Hey, stop that!", I told him. "You're a man now.  And men don't cry after
sex!"

"You fucking hurt him!", Jamie shouted out.  "You've fucked me like that,
and it hurts, Steve.  And Luke's only a kid, and didn't have the gladiator
training in handling pain like we did!"

I suppose I was really upset after hearing about Mike, and so instead of
just letting it ride, I was really pissed off.  "Mind you own business,
Jamie. Shut the fuck up!", I snapped.

"It is my business, Steve.  Luke's my brother...."

"I told you to shut up, Jamie.  It's not your business - actually, in law,
he's no longer your brother.  You're both slaves.  My slaves. So I'll do
what I like...."

"Leave him alone, Steve.  Take on someone who's a real man...."

I half sat up, then slapped Luke's butt, hard, very hard.  "You want to
cry, Luke.... Well, here's something to help you do it."

The next instant Jamie had hurled himself out of bed and on to me.  I was
taken by surprise, and initially he got the upper hand - we rolled off the
bed and began to wrestle on the floor just as if we were two gladiators in
the arena.  It was hopeless, of course, there was no way one of the
middle-range "wrestlers" like Jamie could hope to defeat a Champion like
me, and I soon bested him and sat astride him with my knees pinioning his
shoulders to the ground and my dick dangling over his face.  I told him to
open wide as I needed to piss, then, to my amazement, Darren put his arm
around my neck and began to choke me!

I ought to have been able to defeat both of them, but I suppose I was
getting slower and I was out of training, and all their work on the
construction site had kept them in peak condition.  It took a long time,
but eventually they had me immobile on the bed, my wrists tied to the
headboard with pieces of clothing.  Jamie knelt across my thighs, gripping
my balls.  He squeezed as he stared at me, then squeezed harder, still
waiting for a reaction.  I was determined not to show any of the pain I was
feeling, until Jamie squeezed my balls right down to the end of my sac and
then slapped them with his other hand!

I screamed then, and Jamie thrust his face into mine.  "You fucking hurt
Luke, Steve.  You don't like it very much when a guy hurts you, do you?"

"You bastard!  You'll suffer for this...  As soon as you let me free I'll
beat the shit out of you.... Or perhaps I'll send you for a public flogging
- that's the least a slave who attacks his owner can expect...."

"Shut it, Steve!  We're all sick of you doing this 'slave owner' thing!
Darren and me and you were gladiators together, not owner and slaves....
So we reckon it's time you learned to act like a gladiator again - you've
been so fucking miserable these last few weeks, always complaining and
criticising, never laughing or joking, and now treating Luke like that..."

"Shut the fuck up, and let me go right now!  Perhaps I'll let you off with
just a thrashing from my belt...."

"No, Steve, Jamie's right!"  Darren cut in.  "We were all gladiators
together, and gladiators have a code.  And you've been abusing it: you
treat Jamie and me just like slaves, making us work for you, even taking
our money we earned in tips, and then not feeding us well...."

"All three of you should remember that you are slaves.  MY slaves... And
I'll treat you how I want...."

"...and we're gladiators, and we'll treat a gladiator who lost a fight as
we want!", Jamie retorted.

As I struggled and writhed, Jamie sat on my belly to hold me down, as
Darren grabbed first one leg and then the other, and pulled them up and
apart.  "OK, Luke - now it's your turn", he said determinedly.

I'm not sure Luke wanted to fuck me, but he didn't want to be seen to be
less of a man by his brother and Darren, and as I protested as I felt the
tip of his dick pushing at my asshole, Jamie leaned forward and casually
stuffed a sock in my mouth "To shut the disgusting noise" I was making.

It didn't take Luke all that long to climax, nor Darren, for that matter,
who followed him up my ass - probably because of the sheer physical force
he used to slam in and out of me.  Jamie took a lot longer, but he was much
more inventive - he pushed my feet almost to my shoulders so he could bury
himself as deep in my ass as possible, then seemed to be staring into my
eyes as he looked for signs of my anger or pain as he fucked away.

When they'd finished, Jamie took the sock out of my mouth.

"You can't keep me tied up like this for long....", I said, trying to sound
certain of it, but attempting to keep a sound of threat out of my voice.

"Couldn't we, Steve?"  Jamie asked.  "Most people around here think there
are just three slaves in this crummy slave quarters kind of place.  If we
wanted to, I reckon we could keep you tied up like this for weeks, using
you as a fuck toy.  And who else knows about us?  Jon and Ann, I suppose,
but you don't see them all that often.  I reckon you could 'disappear' for
quite a time before anyone came looking for you...."

"You're a fucking slave, Jamie!  Without an owner, how long do you think
you'd last?  If the Slave Police stop you, who are you going to say your
owner is?  You'll be thought to be a runaway...."

"...or someone who killed his owner", Darren added.

End Of Part Thirty Seven