Date: Sun, 27 Mar 2005 23:29:30 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Spoils Of War, Part 20

THE SPOILS OF WAR  by Pete Brown.  petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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

Part 20

Slug tried to get into my bunk that night, but I
pushed him away, as it was too painful.  I could see
him climb in with Lewis then, and once again Lewis
kind of enfolded the kid with his big tough body. 
Slug was still disturbed, though, as a couple of times
during the night in addition to all the usual heavy
breathing and little moans and stuff that the guys all
made in their sleep, I was woken up by Slug half
crying, half whimpering "No, no, please.... No....." 
I thought at first that Lewis must be fucking him or
something and leaped out of bed, really angry:  even
though Lewis was in charge, I wasn't going to let him
hurt young Slug.  But when I got to the side of
Lewis's bunk, I saw that Lewis was awake, too and was
kind of stroking the kid and trying to calm him.  "Bad
dreams", Lewis whispered.  "Best to let him sleep on,
and work it out of his system.... Still, who can blame
him, when you think of the way that bastard must have
treated him...."

I went back to my own bunk then but I couldn't sleep
very well lying there on my belly, and I was glad when
I was morning.  I thought they might let me off
exercises that day as every time I moved my body pain
from the cane marks shot through me, but Lewis soon
dispelled that!  "Come on, Spike - don't be a baby! 
It will be worse at the end of the day if you let your
body get out of condition, so you've just got to
suffer a bit now.  Get stuck in...."

Look, I usually like exercising.  I've told you how
great it feels to be really using my body properly,
and I never have a problem normally with working away
until I'm exhausted.  But that morning was sheer hell
- every time I bent or stretched or moved suddenly, I
was reminded of the pain from the caning and I wanted
to moan out loud - but I couldn't let the other guys
see I couldn't take it, could I?  And, oddly, I
suppose Lewis was right - the more I worked out, the
easier it did get as all my skin and muscles got used
to being stretched in spite of the wheal marks, and by
the time we were allowed to stop for a chow break it
wasn't so bad.  

Lewis had made Slug join us for exercises, too, and he
looked pretty much all in as we sat on the grass of
the exercise field after we'd eaten.  Lewis was
sitting on the other side of him, and I heard Slug ask
"Is it always like this, sarge?" -  I thought it was
interesting that he'd picked up the handle all of us
guys used for Lewis, even though Slug had never been
in the Corps.

"You should always be tired when you've finished
exercising - it's only when your muscles are really
aching that they've been properly pushed just that
little bit beyond what they did before.  It's the only
way that you'll get to have a good, hard body, like
the rest of the guys.  You do want that, don't you?"

"Yes, sarge - I want to be like Spike.  And like you,
of course."  I guess I was kind of flattered that Slug
wanted to be like me - I mean, I'd quit school and
stuff, and folks didn't often look up to me.

"Well, you might make it, I suppose.  You've still got
a couple of inches in height, I reckon.  And you've
got a good physique so with proper feeding and a lot
of hard work, we can clothe it in nice solid muscle
like Spike's, provided you work at it. "

"So can I be a gladiator too, sarge?"

"Well, son, that depends on the Colonel.  It'll take a
couple of years of hard work to get you properly in
shape - you've got to remember that Spike and all the
other guys were in the Marines for a long time before
they were captured and brought here.  Bodies like that
aren't made in a day, you know.  I don't know if the
Colonel is prepared to wait that long - he's got to
feed you and everything....."

"But that doesn't cost much, surely..."

"No, but then there's the loss on his capital.  If he
sold you now as a fresh young lad, I think he'd get a
good price for you.  And the interest he could earn on
that money..."

"But who'd want to buy me now?  I'm not properly
developed...."

Lewis lowered his voice, moved a little closer to
Slug, and said "Look, son, I don't want to worry you. 
But there aren't many very young slaves like you out
there - most of the slaves are the spoils from the
war, so they were mature guys, like Spike and me. But
there are an awful lot of men who fantasise about
fucking young guys, and they mostly can't get their
way:  most high school kids, even if they like men,
are only really into experimenting with their buddies,
learning how to jack off together, all that sort of
stuff. There just aren't many sixteen year olds
available for fucking, so if the Colonel sold you to a
brothel, he'd get a big stack of money for you as they
could rent you out for top dollar."

I heard Slug's voice falter a bit.  "He wouldn't do
that, would he, sarge?"

"Look, kid, I've told you:  it's up to the Colonel. 
He's running a business here - we're all only here
because he can get money from the audience and from
the TV when we fight.  If we weren't making money for
him, he'd sell us.  So I guess it all depends on how
much he values money today against how much he thinks
he might make from you in the future - in a couple of
years you'll still be very young and kind of 'fresh',
and maybe he'll take a view that the money he could
make then from having a new, young gladiator would be
a better deal overall."

"Is there any way we can make him keep me, sarge? 
Anything.... Anything at all I can do?"

"No, Slug.  You're a slave, remember?  And slaves
don't make decisions or anything, and they've got no
bargaining chips.  They just have to hope that their
owners do the right thing by them....  That Leroy was
a real bastard, but the Colonel is a pretty good
owner...."

"But he's going to cane you and Spike..."

"Look, Slug, that's part of being a slave.  If your
owner feels you've not behaved properly, what's he
supposed to do?  He can't dock your wages or anything,
can he?  He can't fire you, either.  So all he's got
is physical punishment.  It's not all that
unreasonable for an owner to tan the hide of a wilful
or misbehaving slave, when you think about it."

"But you and Spike were only trying to help me..."

"Yes, but Spike didn't do it the right way.... He's
always too strong willed and too hot-headed for his
own good..."

I interrupted at that point.  "Hey, sarge, what do you
mean?  I'm not hot-headed...."

"Yes you are, Spike, and you know it!  Every time you
go into he arena you lose it totally, and fortunately,
that works for you as it means you normally win.  But
outside the arena, you'll find it gets to be more and
more of a problem for you - I reckon the Colonel will
be keeping a special eye on you now, and he'll notice
any signs that you're not behaving like a proper
slave.  I wouldn't be surprised if this caning we're
going to get won't be the first of many for you."

"Yes, and about that, sarge.... The Colonel said that
it's you who's got to arrange for both of us to be
caned.  Couldn't you just forget - I didn't see the
guards writing it down, or anything...  I mean, he
wasn't right, was he? - I was only trying to help
Slug...."

"Spike, I don't want to hear any more!  This is
exactly the type of thing I mean, the sort of stuff
that will get you into deep shit - you say our owner
'wasn't right' - well, that's no attitude for a slave
to have:  his owner is always right!  And then you're
trying to get me to disregard an order our owner gave
me - that's not right, either!  You just don't put
your brain into gear before you open your mouth
sometimes,  do you, Spike?  Think on - if I didn't
arrange the caning, and the Colonel remembered about
it next week, or next month.... What would he do?  It
would be far, far worse - he'd schedule the caning
anyway, and then he'd have me punished even more for
disobedience!"

In some sort of crazy way I could see that Lewis was
right.  But it all didn't make sense - caning a guy on
the bare ass wasn't right, but I couldn't find the
flaw in Lewis's logic.  Unless, of course, it was that
men shouldn't be slaves at all.  But then, I was a
slave, so even if men "shouldn't" be slaves, that
wasn't going to do me any good right here and now.
___________________________________

The next couple of days were OK, and I gradually
recovered from the pain from my caning in Atlanta and
was almost back to normal.  I could even sleep on my
back and on my side again without too much discomfort,
and now Slug was really insistent, always trying to 
climb into bed with me.    Finally I kind of lost my
temper with him, and snapped "Look, kid, I don't do
very young guys, OK?  I don't want to have to worry
about my dick ripping you apart."

"Please, Spike, I thought we were buddies.... You
saved me, Spike, and I want to be grateful..."

"Well do it by leaving me alone, OK?  I want to
sleep....  Now fuck off - go and find one of the other
guys to sleep with, or go with Lewis again."  To show
him I meant business I snapped my fingers for Stu,
who, as Slug watched, came and leaned over my bunk so
that I could fuck him.  Well, I mean, a guy needs to
have sex, doesn't he?  I needed a good night's sleep,
and I wouldn't get it if my dick was constantly hard.

The next morning Lewis told me that he had fixed out
caning for that evening.  "You're fighting in a week's
time, Spike, so we'd better do it now, so that the
marks mostly have time to disappear - it doesn't look
good on the TV to have a gladiator showing signs  of
punishment. They can cover a lot of it with makeup, so
you should be OK."

"Makeup, sarge?"

"Yes.  You know, that stuff women use.  Well, it's
special makeup for the TV, thicker and all that - they
can just get someone from the TV studio to spread it
over your butt if the cane marks are too visible."

"Wouldn't it just be better to postpone this until
after I've fought.... You never know, the Colonel
might change his mind...."

"What you mean is, Spike, that you think I might
forget.  And we've been through all of that.  No,
you'll be fighting pretty regularly from now on, so
it's better to get it over and done with.  But don't
worry - it's nothing like as savage as the beating
Leroy gave you:  the Colonel gets one of the guards to
do it, and he isn't nearly as powerful as Leroy was. 
We'll be sore, sure, as that's the point of a
punishment, but it will only last a day or two.  And
it will only be on the butt, not the thighs, and it
doesn't hurt as much there:  it will be pretty bad at
the time, but it soon wears off as there's a lot of
muscle to absorb it." 

"So if it's that easy, why does the Colonel bother,
sarge?"

"Well it's mostly the humiliation... We'll be caned
bare-assed, in front of all the other guys.  And then,
everyone knows that it's kind of a reminder - a
caning's not too bad, although we'll probably both
squeal a bit as it goes on, but everyone knows that
the Colonel could have ordered a proper flogging...
There's only been one of those since I came here, but
it's always in his power to do it again."
I was worried all day, though, as we exercised and
worked out, and I couldn't really concentrate on the
fighting lesson I had in the afternoon and ended up
with a couple of huge bruises as a result.  At five
o'clock, when we were normally finished for the day
and hit the showers, all the gladiators started to
line up on the exercise field.  A flat trailer that
they used to haul stuff around the site on was pulled
up in front of the guys to give some height, and Lewis
and I stood there by the side of it.

The guards were much in evidence, and they lined all
the gladiators up in neat rows, and then we all just
stood there, waiting for the Colonel - if anyone
spoke, the guards soon shut him up, and I think it was
this silence that really started to build the tension.
 At long last the door of the administration building
opened and the Colonel came out, accompanied by one of
the guards, who was swishing a standard punishment
cane through the air experimentally.  

They made their way smartly across the field towards
us all, and the guards shouted "Attention!" - which we
all did, almost automatically, having been marines. 
The Colonel glanced at the ranks of his gladiators,
then at Lewis at me, and shouted "Stand Easy!", to
allow the guys to relax.

"Right - which of you is first?  Lewis or Spike?"  he
asked us.

"Spike can go last, sir", Lewis answered at once.

"Oh Lewis, always looking after your men!  You know
the first strokes are always the hardest, as the guard
isn't tired..."

"Sir, please sir, I'll go first!", I said, as soon as
I'd heard this.  "It was all my fault, sir..."

The Colonel laughed, said quietly "You always want to
be the hero, don't you, Spike?  Well, you can go
first.  Lewis:  up on the trailer, and bend over."

Lewis leaped up, and went down on his hands and knees.
 "You haven't seen a caning here before, have you,
Spike?  Well, Lewis is there and now you go and use
his back to support you. Get well over him, so your
ass is well in the air above his back, and your head
to the ground."

I got up onto the trailer, and bent over Lewis as I'd
been told,  with my butt facing towards the watching
gladiators.  I then felt the trailer move slightly as
the guard climbed up, and then he was fumbling at the
fastening of my shorts... And pulled them down.  My
dick was pressed into Lewis's hard back, and the guard
kicked my feel apart to loosen my butt a bit, as I'd
kind of involuntarily clenched my cheeks together.  I
knew that all the other gladiators must be able to see
my balls hanging down, and probably had a good view of
my hole, too, and I remembered what Lewis had said
about it being about humiliation, as well as about
straight punishment.

There's something about being caned, especially
publicly like this, that is very degrading.  I suppose
it takes us back to the idea of school days years ago
when they still did this.  It made me feel like some
sort of naughty boy, leaning over Lewis's body, having
my pants pulled down, and now receiving the six
strokes.  

I wasn't expecting the first one, and I cried out,
involuntarily, as it striped across my butt, and by
whole body jerked forward - which caused my dick,
trapped against Lewis's backbone, to hurt too.  But
then the guard did the rest quickly and methodically,
and I managed to lie still.  But, as Lewis predicted,
I couldn't remain silent as the five remaining strokes
sliced into me, and as each stroke landed, I let out a
yell.  The guard then reached down and pulled me to my
feet, and left me standing there, my back to the
audience, for a minute or so as he used the tip of the
cane to trace out the stroke marks across my butt to
show the audience what he'd done.  I felt myself
blushing with embarrassment and shame as he did this,
an embarrassment and shame that got worse when he
turned me around to face the assembled men:  I'd
sported a huge wood, and there was a bead of pre-cum
dangling from my piss slit.

"Right, boy.... It's Lewis's turn.  Get on your hands
and knees....", the guard snapped, and then, as I
reached for my shorts, "No, stay naked!"

I had to kneel there, knowing that the guys could see
my dick and balls hanging down between my thighs, as
Lewis was stripped and made to lie across me.  I felt
the heavy warmth of him as he shuffled around, trying
to make his dick and balls comfortable against my
back, and his wiry pubic hair scratched at my skin.
Then, as he was being whipped, I felt his dick go hard
against me, just as I had done, and when it was over,
he too was displayed to all the gladiators so that
they could see what had happened to him.
 
The worst was not over, though!  As I went to pick up
my shorts, even though I knew it would be painful to
wear them on my striped butt, I was stopped from doing
so and told that the Colonel had decreed that for the
next forty eight hours Lewis and I could only wear Ts,
so that everyone who met us would be able to see that
we had been punished.  Actually, going around in just
a T with your dick and balls hanging down underneath,
and your butt exposed, is worse than going totally
naked - it just emphasises your dick and butt.   But
there was nothing that Lewis or I could do, and as we
jogged back across the empty exercise ground, I
realised how difficult it was going to be for the next
two days - my dick was bobbing up and down, and
without support of any kind, my balls had already
begun to have a kind of dull ache in them.

Back in our room all the other guys clustered around
to look at our butts, and I guess it wasn't so bad -
after all, we were all used to being naked together. 
And certainly the pain this time, although my butt
felt as if it was on fire, was nowhere nearly as bad
as when Leroy had caned me.  I still needed to sleep
on my belly, though, and as I lay there, trying to get
to sleep, Slug came and knelt by my head.

"Are you OK, Spike?  Can I get you anything...?"

"What the fuck do you mean?   What is there to get? 
Go away, will you?  I've told you before to quit
hanging around me."

I saw his eyes almost fill with tears.  "I don't know,
Spike, I just wanted to help.... You saved me from
Leroy, and now you've been beaten again, I wanted to
try to repay you...."

"Hey, kid, I'm sorry.  But this is not a good time,
OK?  My butt's on fire, and I need to try to sleep as
it's going to be tough tomorrow...."

"But can we be friends, Spike?"

"Hey, sure.  Us slaves all need to stick together....
We're all friends here...."

I don't know if that was what he wanted to hear, but
he got up, and a couple of moments later was in one of
the other guys' bunks, and I heard little chuckles,
and the unmistakable sounds of two guys jerking each
other off.  That made my dick go hard, of course, and
trapped underneath me, it added to my discomfort.

It was no fun working out and exercising for the next
two days, as I'd predicted.  Three was a lot of
joshing and joking from the other gladiators who kept
coming up and patting my butt, but I could handle
that, but the ache from my balls was tedious.  And the
cane marks had faded within ten days, which was when
my next fight was.
_____________________________

The Colonel had arranged a kind of tour for me, to get
me known, and I suppose to increase my value
generally, and again he sent Lewis with me - although
we were not manacled together as the Colonel
considered that I'd learned my lesson.  We travelled
down to Miami, then up through New Orleans, and on
into Texas, fighting in Houston and in Dallas, and
then on to St Louis, and finally back to Raleigh via
Nashville.  It took a long time, not only because the
buses were slow, but because in each place I was
allowed three days to recover and "re-condition"
myself before the fight, and then after the fight we
were lodged in a gladiator barracks so that I could
recover from the bruises and such like before moving
on.   

I never lost a fight, and the crowds at each
successive location seemed to be more and more on my
side, as I was the new, hot gladiator.  I completely
lost my inhibition about fucking in public, or,
indeed, at appearing naked in public:  down in Texas
it was the custom for gladiators to "weigh in" on the
morning of the fight, in front of a paying crowd and
the TV cameras and such like.  And, as you'd expect,
the "weigh in" meant that you had to strip totally, so
that "the true fighting weight of each gladiator could
e determined", they said - as if it would have made
much difference if we'd been allowed to wear our
fighting pouches, or even our shorts:  they could,
after all, have easily subtracted the weight of a pair
of standard slave shorts from the amount on the big
scales they used, couldn't they?  But it wasn't so bad
after the first time - I just came out in my shorts,
stood there with all the cameras flashing and
everything whilst the officials read my Slave
Identification Number, and then I just dropped my
shorts and stood up on the scales.  Afterwards, me and
my opponent just stood there, both naked, as they took
more photos of us together, and then it was all over -
I don't suppose it was more than a half hour in total,
but I gathered that the tickets were quite expensive.

Through all of this Lewis aced a my trainer, to make
sure I carried on exercising, and as a sort of
"handler" - he made sure I lubed up properly before
the fights, even though, like Leroy, I expected to
win, and other stuff like that.  We shared sleeping
accommodation, of course - whether it was a room, or
just a sleeping pad in a slave cage, or whatever they
provided.  And although we both lay there jerking off,
we didn't do anything else: no mutual jacking, no
sucking, and no fucking.  Lewis said that as he was my
trainer and handler he needed to keep a "distance"
between him and me, or he couldn't function properly -
especially as he was extremely vigilant in making sure
I had no sex at all for three days before every fight.

All in all, it was almost two months before we got
back to Gleeson's Gladiators, and this time, when we
were summoned into the Colonel's office, I knew I
really had done well.  The Colonel told me so as soon
as I was allowed into his office, although as a
careful owner he then made me strip so that he could
thoroughly examine me all over for damage, and to make
sure I was still in absolutely top fighting form.

"You've done well, Lewis", he went on to say.  "You've
kept Spike here in excellent condition, and I could
tell from the way that he went at the fucking that he
was properly 'on edge' for each match.  That can't
have been easy, keeping a young stud like this away
from sex for days.  Are you two fucking regularly?"

"Sir, no, sir.  Spike only really wants to fuck when
he's in the arena.  And he doesn't like taking dick,
sir.  Of course we've both jerked off at the same time
- as you'd expect buddies to do, sir.  But nothing
more."

"I'm getting worried, Lewis.  If he doesn't take dick,
even when he's with his buddies, what's going to
happen when he loses, as he assuredly will, one day?"

"Sir I think that makes him fight harder now.  I don't
think he'd have won that first match of his if he
hadn't been desperate.  Of course he'll lose one day -
we all do, as we et older, and the younger guys keep
coming on, but he's always properly stretched and
lubed before going into the arena, so there won' be
any permanent physical damage to him, no torn
membranes, or anything...."

"Yes, but I'm worried about the effect on his
personality."  Turning to me, who was still standing
there naked, he continued "Spike, you're not going to
like this, but it's for your own good. You can't
always expect just to fuck other men - you do need to
learn to take it, too. So..."

I blushed furiously, as I remembered having to take
dick when I'd first been enslaved, and interrupted him
"Sir, I have taken dick, sir, I...."

"Spike, shut your fucking mouth!", the Colonel roared.
 "The last time you were in here I had you punished as
much for your habit of interrupting men when they were
speaking as for the way that you'd acted after your
first proper fight.  I thought you'd learned, learned
that slaves remain silent unless they're answering a
question.  But perhaps I'd better have you caned again
- most of the other gladiators here admire you, as
we've shown them your fights on TV, and it would do
them good to see that however good a fighter you are,
you're still my slave, and you need to show proper
respect."

I thought it best to remain silent, and not try to
apologise or anything, and the Colonel seemed to get
calmer.  "Anyway, as I was about to say, I've
therefore decided that you need to learn how to take
dick properly.  Your next fight isn't for a month, and
before then, I want you to have had proper sex with
one of your buddies."

"But sir..."

"There you go again, Spike, questioning my orders! 
Now, shut the fuck up, or rather than being caned in
front of the other gladiators, I'll have you fucked in
front of them!"

Turning to Lewis he went on "You've fucked him,
haven't you, Lewis?"

"Sir, yes, sir."

"Well then, before his next fight, make sure that you
do it again, or get one of the other men in your room
to do it.  Does he have a regular man he fucks?"

"Yes, sir, Stu."

"He's the middle-weight, isn't he?  Is that the one
Spike is giving it to?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, get him to return the favour - Stu's a good,
classic middle-weight, and his dick shouldn't be as
hard to take as your is, Lewis."

"With respect, sir, I don't think Stu could - he's so
used to bottoming for Spike, that he couldn't do it. 
And as you know, sir, we've decided that Stu will
never get promoted to the top class, even though he's
a good fighter, as he just lacks the will to fuck."

"Yes, you're probably right,  Lewis.  That shows I'm
right in my decision to keep on some of the older
stock like you to really understand the slaves.  So it
will have to be you, I suppose - there's no other man
in the room?"

"Well, only young Slug, sir...."

"Ah yes, and that's another problem!  That lad's been
getting a bit unruly whilst you've been away.   I've
awarded him as a prize once or twice, and that's gone
down well as a general incentive to every room to keep
working hard.  But when he's with the other men in
your room, there are signs of trouble - he's playing
the men off one against the other, getting them to
make 'bids' for his favours...  I won't tolerate men
acting like that, Lewis:  men should be men, not
little flirts!  You're not to blame, of course - you
haven't been there, and I'm sure you'd have stamped on
that kind of behaviour, hard, before it really took
hold."

"Sir, yes, sir...."

"Does Spike fuck him?"

"No, sir.  Slug likes Spike, almost reveres him, but
Spike always rebuffs him.  Slug has several times
tried to bunk with Spike, but Spike always refuses."

"Well I think that this is a way of solving two
problems at once.  For the next two weeks make sure
Slug and Spike always bunk together - Spike won't be
able to resist having sex with the kid for all that
time.  And it will stop the jealousy, as none of the
other men in your room will challenge Spike.  Then at
the end of that time, make sure Slug fucks the brains
out of Spike - arrange it so that all the other men
can watch, as Spike needs to learn that there's
nothing wrong or shameful with taking dick."

"Sir, yes, sir!", Lewis snapped smartly, then, as it
was clear that the Colonel had finished, he gestured
at me to leave.  But I couldn't.  I'd been horrified
at what I'd heard.

"Sir, please... No, don't make me submit to Slug..."

The Colonel looked at me, folded his hands on his desk
in front of him.  "One more word, Spike, and you'll be
'submitting' to him in front of the entire school. 
You still don't get it, do you?  You're a slave,
remember?  And slaves obey their owners.  They obey
them in EVERYTHING.  Now, get out of here, before I
really lose my temper."

I was going to carry on arguing with him, but I think
it was lucky for me that Lewis grabbed me by the arm,
and gently pulled me towards the door.

End Of Part 20