Hello again after all these years
Gentlemen: Welcome back, y’all.
This Rebuilding a Gladiator started 13 ½ years ago. My seven dudes and I have finished our 12-year indentures (Chapter 13) — stay tuned. It’s easier to remember what a man did than what he said and what I learned about myself. This all dried up after Chapter 16 with Mike & his strap five years ago. COVID didn’t help, and the later something gets the better you want it to be. But mostly what went down hurts to remember. My Vancouver editor’s back on the trails and in the gym and office, so we’ll do better than a chapter and a quarter per year. We’ll get past the first couple weeks.
HELLO AGAIN AFTER ALL THESE YEARS
Gentlemen:
Welcome back, y’all.
This “Rebuilding a Gladiator” started 13 ½ years ago. My seven dudes and I have finished our 12-year indentures (Chapter 13) — stay tuned. It’s easier to remember what a man did than what he said and what I learned about myself. Writing’s not my best skill, and this all dried up after Chapter 16 with Mike & his strap five years ago. COVID didn’t help, and the later something gets the better you want it to be. But mostly what went down hurts to remember. My Vancouver editor’s back on the trails and in the gym and office, so we’ll do better than a chapter and a quarter per year. We’ll get past the first couple weeks.
Let’s start by introducing or reintroducing us.
SLAVERY, SLAVES, INDENTURES
We’re all stud construction slaves that belong to Hardwicke Co, owned by Mr Hardwicke and Mr Whitmore (Hard Dick and Whip More).
Slavery and slaves replaced prisons and prisoners when Congress wouldn’t vote enough for second-term President Trump’s walls with Canada and Mexico. The 13th Amendment allows involuntary servitude as punishment for crime, so he closed Leavenworth and the other federal male prisons and traded the inmates to Wall contractors. Then the contractors sold some men on when the Walls got finished. His “Second Amendment people” took out the judges and politicians who disagreed.
The states closed their prisons and sold their prisoners too when they saw how much they’d save on prison operation and how much cash selling slaves and prison real estate bring in. Now there’s a steady supply of young bucks like mine that pays a county way better than speed traps. In the longer term, the county and country might be better off if after flogging and working a dude for whatever got him busted, maybe upgrading his reading or math, the county’d release at least some to grow up, get some qualifications, go to work, start a family. At least some counties do let some dudes join the military.
An owner has no limits with a life slave, so owners can buy cheap, work ‘em n break ‘em, throw them away or sell them cheap like the gladiator stable did Darren, replace ‘em cheap. Too many end up disabled and homeless under bridges. We hear rumours that some states let owners turn slaves loose in a patch of woods and sell hunting tickets. There are a couple societies that try to prevent cruelty.
An indenture adds limits, usually release the man in good condition after so many years but also clauses that an owner can’t make an indentured journeyman or technician certify something as correct or safe.
My dad was an instrument tech in the paper mill back in Iroquois Falls, Ontario. His job was to make sure that the gauges on the boilers and the steam and chemical lines were accurate so the plant and workers stayed safe. He’d tell us about times a foreman wanted Dad to sign off to restart a boiler or machine before Dad thought it was ready. Dad would lock the foreman out of his shop.
So I understand how a Red Seal journeyman (like me, an indentured journeyman millwright) or technician couldn’t be a slave. In my other gig, master blaster, the client or overseer can tell me what they do or don’t want blasted, when to blast or not to, but they can’t tell me HOW or to set something off that I think might go bad. My husband and master, Mike, works part-time in finance, helping keep peoples’ money safe, so his owner, Hardwicke Co, had to release him to an indenture.
Hardwickes invests in its men, calls us their only real asset. They make all the dudes at least complete their high-school equivalent GED and put all the ones who can through a tech-school diploma if not through apprentice to journeyman. They pay into the state Workers Compensation Board, make sure all its work sites pass regular inspections, and go for years with no lost-time injuries. The Board compensation pays for any lost time. They have an indentured nurse practitioner to keep us healthy and working. They even make sure that canes, bullwhips, and blacksnakes don’t break our skin.
And men can have families in the family condos behind a row of trees at the edge of the fenced compound. Their kids aren’t slaves, but the company can claim sons for a few years’ indenture with paid training after high school if they’re not in the military or in university that Hardwickes pay for. Mr Hardwicke, Mr Whitmore, and lots of overseers and older slaves have families there — but the men keep cells in the barracks too, for activities not involving their wives.
WHO WE ARE
The week started this Monday with us six construction-stud gladiator slaves that Mr Hardwicke introduced in Chapter 12: Mike — 38 years old, six-foot-three, 235 lb, 48 inch chest, 38 inch waist. Darren — 23, six-foot-one, 205 (max for UFC light heavyweight), 46 inch chest, 36 inch waist. Steve (me) — 33, six foot, 185 (max for UFC middleweight), 46 inch chest, 32 inch waist. Jamie — 23, five-foot-11, 180, middleweight, 42 inch chest, 32 inch waist, classic 42-Tall. Jamie’s younger brother, Luke — 18, five-foot-10, 170 (max for UFC welterweight), 40 inch chest, 30 inch waist, classic 40-Tall. Both Tall dudes work as models if the arms and shoulders are cut big enough and if the jackets taper tight enough to the narrow waist. Demon, Darren’s younger brother — 18, five-foot-nine, 180, middleweight, 40 inch chest, 30 inch waist. Notice how all our guys taper down to narrow waist n hips, rockhard glutes. Mr Hardwicke says from the back I look like an arrowhead splitting a rock.
So I’m Steve, gladiator slave and construction stud, Steve of Steve’s Studs Inc, Drillers & Blasters. I’m what y’all’d call a French-Canadian half-breed — Dad was a Canadian Méti (“mixed” like Mexican mestizos), the offspring of French-speaking voyageur fur traders and their native wives; Mom was the daughter of an Irish father and Mohawk mother (she’s the Mohawk grandmother who made me a clean freak). Except for the blue eyes, I’d pass for Mexican or Central Asian (Chapter 14). Like I said, we lived in Iroquois Falls, Ontario, a mill town in the French-speaking northern Ontario bush. The summer I graduated high school, at dawn on my 18th birthday, my dad collected me from a bush party and poured me onto a Greyhound to the US border. There a Marine recruiter collected me for an enlistment in the Recon Marines — what I’d always wanted to do. Recons train like Navy Seals, including the five-minute underwater swim, but unlike Seals we train to hold our breath and swim without drugs. We go into situations that might turn out bad in places you never heard of, solve the situations, get out, and NEVER make the news, especially not Fox News — also unlike Seals. I served 10 years Recon, combat, silver star, two bronze stars, purple hearts, promoted to sergeant. I got arrested, convicted, caned n strapped, and busted out of the Marines like toxic waste over a misunderstanding with a woman in a bar on my first day back in the States for advanced training. Then a trucker who picked me up tried to put my mouth onto his dick while he drove 20 miles over the limit; that got me my second sexual assault conviction and a five-year gladiator indenture to Phillips Fuckers & Fighters. To protect me from a third conviction, third strike, I’m indentured to a trust in the British Virgin Islands or BVI. Lawyer Jon set up the indenture and trust in Chapter 9 to protect me from any random third-strike conviction and generally getting seized and sold by the county.
My first language is backwoods Canadian French. Redneck Marine English is my second language — why MBA Mike wants me to write better.
I live and work with Hardwickes, but I’m leased to black Mr Kraus of Kraus White Horse Co (Chapter 12). They’re reinforced-concrete contractors who do lots of public works, and voters like to see the muscular jet black overseer in the muscle shirt on the white horse workin his ‘black boys’ with an Indiana Jones bullwhip from David Morgan. (Chapter 14).
Hardwickes say they run on rednecks and city delinquents, who sell cheapest; that’s why I’m just about the only nonwhite. Asians cost the most, then Latinos (they bust into the country to work).
Registered sex offenders come even cheaper, since, sorry, fucking up again could get one castrated. But Hardwickes have two defences for that — real strict control and, in the general vocational testing we did this morning in Chapter 13, they measure how your dick subconsciously grows or shrinks with whatever images flash on the screen too quick to notice. That shows the company what dudes to worry about in what situations — especially ones they can’t trust around teenage or younger girls or boys.
We met Mike in Chapter 12. He was a Finance MBA from Middle Tennessee State working for a Wall Street bank monitoring trades for any that broke the rules. When the expertly-concealed Amaranth commodity scam damn near broke the bank, Mike took the fall for all the Ivy Leaguers and MIT and Stanford grads, He wound up as slave for life and champion in Phillips, the gladiator stable that later bought me and paired me with him. When Jon got me protected in Hardwicke Co, he tracked Mike and bought him for Hardwickes from where Phillips had disposed of him (Chapter 12). Now me n Mike are married gladiator cocaptains (Chapter 15) after he proposed by blacksnake in Chapter 13.
Darren and Jamie are slaves for life and belong to my trust and Steve’s Studs. Demon and Luke are indentured to Steve’s Studs through my trust. Their dads say they were all random delinquents and that me, my trust, and Hardwickes saved them from real bad situations.
Hardwickes own Mike, like I said. As my Chapter 13 tries to explain, all the rest of us work on 12-year indentures for our training — GEDs for my four dudes while they finish our six-month Hardwickes boot camp, then six-month driller-blaster training for us all, apprenticeships for me as millwright, Jamie studying in the tech school as trainee construction overseer, and Darren n Demon as apprentice bricklayers. Luke will use the 12 years for community college then university to become an architect. Mike will work some combination of Hardwickes overseer and finance jock as an indenture. Ranked by general learning ability, Mike ranks top 10%, me, Luke, n Jamie rank top 25%, and Darren n Demon fall just below average at top of the bottom 50%.
We’re starting our second Hell Week, too, after we picked up Mike n Demon yesterday. That’s why, at dinner tonight when Mr Hardwicke asked every man who’d been caned this month, just us gladiators stood up. When he asked who’d been bullwhipped, Overseer Pete stood up with us because in Chapter 6, when me n Darren raced up a scaffold and broke safety, he hadn’t thought we’d be that dumb. Mr Hardwicke stood up too, losing two bets to me — last Monday I did more pullups (Chapter 3), and last Wednesday I outran him while he quirted my jockstrapped ass (Chapter 5). But today he said I made it too easy, that I SWUNG the whip when I should have thrown it, then flicked my wrist to land it. He didn’t mind at the time, but for our men’s gladiator challenge tonight I should remember how me n Mike practised in Chapter 13.
WHERE STUFF CAN GET DONE TO US
I should distinguish the Slave Bureau from Slaves R Us and from the Municipal Punishment Centre.
The Slave Bureau registers new slaves, new indentures, especially longer than five years, and slaves and indentures new to the state. Registration includes six strokes each of cane, strap, tawse, flogger, and bullwhip except any that our hides show we already know. Premium orientation (Chapter 9) gets 12 strokes. I’m grateful that at least I didn’t get the premium. Also shoot to test sperm potency.
Slaves R Us sells titanium collars (like ours) and steel ones, steel-toed boots like ours, and generic uniform shorts, t-shirts, muscle shirts, plus jocks and socks, even slave chow (like dry dogfood). They also sell impact implements — cane, strap, tawse, flogger, bullwhip, blacksnake, slave electric prods (smaller cattle prods) plus restraining handcuffs, irons, and more. They encourage a man buying an impact instrument to experience it used on him before he practises using it on instrumented dummies and live, uh, specimens — usually not volunteers.
The Municipal Punishment Centre usually canes or straps young dudes their dads can’t handle, but they also carry out court sentences. Jamie’s dad was having him strapped (price of quitting school at 16) when I got sentenced to the cane in that bar misunderstanding. My fighting back got me strapped too. The dad drove me back to barracks, where I got the dishonourable discharge that put me hitching on the highway for my second conviction for assaulting the trucker. Jamie calls me a bisexual badass.
MASTERS
Let me explain masters too, along with their twisty parts in my history. A man belongs to a master when the master not only masters him sexually (fuck, facefuck) and physically (cane, tawse, strap, flogger, whip …, plus maybe win a competition first) but also commits to him by taking a beating with, for, or from the man (Chapter 13). When the man knows that the master has committed to him, he swears the gladiator oath, “Sir! I’ll take a whip with you or for you or from you. I’ll take a dick with you or for you or from you because I belong to you, Sir.”
I have four masters, including Mike, my husband.
Boss Henry is head overseer and general manager. In Chapter 10, he showed his commitment by getting blacksnaked bad; then he hung me up in his cell for flogger n fuck. He’s tangled all through my story. Our original overseer, Pete (Chapter 4), is Boss Henry’s younger son; Pete’s on a 12-year indenture for tech-school diplomas as a construction manager and overseer (two years indenture for one year of training, to get a year’s work for very study year). The company put Boss Henry’s older son, orthopod Doc, through undergrad and med school. We met Doc in Chapter 2, when he repaired Darren’s leg after our gladiator stable, Phillips, took money to let his leg get broken in an uneven fight; then they threw him away. The company put Boss Henry’s daughter, Anne, through law school; she’s my defence attorney now. Her husband’s attorney Jon.
Attorney Jon sprang me n Jamie from the gladiator stable in my nifty.org Reluctant_gladiator prehistory, helped me find and rescue Darren from a slave remainders bin when the stable threw him away. In Chapter 2 Jon connected me with Hardwicke Co. In Chapter 9 he not only started my corporate structure but also outran and mastered me. In Chapter 11 at our pre-Hardwicke slave barracks, he took half my bullwhip, cane, and tawse, then matched my facefuck and fuck; that showed me he’s my committed master. When Jon set up my new life in Chapter 12, he programmed me that when I’m being beaten to persuade me to agree to some proposition, I shoot and agree at six. We traded fucks again in Chapter 14 before he set up my FaceTime with the Tajik warlord who first captured and enslaved me.
My black owner is Mr Kraus. In Chapter 2, he bullwhipped me, fucked me the way a proud black man treats a half-white slave, then I tawsed n fucked him. In Chapter 12, Jon caned me to make me sell myself to Mr Kraus; later Mr Kraus strapped me to agree that my company owners can flog me for attitude, fuck me for services; still later he n Mr Hardwicke blacksnaked me to agree that they could cane me n Mike, fuck us, n piss on us. In Chapter 14 we traded full-nelson fucks and flogs to practise for my pending initiation to his company.
Masters get even more complicated when the man owns his master. Hardwickes’ Mr Hardwicke and Mr Whitmore own their master, Boss Henry, and in five years my trust will own Mike.
WHO WE ARE
We all belong to Hardwicke Co, owned by Mr Hardwicke and Mr Whitmore (Hard Dick and Whip More). Slavery and slaves replaced prisons and prisoners when Congress wouldn’t vote enough for second-term President Trump’s walls with Canada and Mexico. The 13th Amendment allows involuntary servitude as punishment for crime, so he closed Leavenworth and the other federal prisons and traded the inmates to Wall contractors, who sold some on when the Walls got finished; his “Second Amendment people” took out the judges and politicians who disagreed. The states closed their prisons and sold their prisoners too when they saw how much they’d save on prison operation and how much cash slaves and prison real estate bring in. Mike says this turned prisoners from a cost centre to a profit centre.
An owner has no limits with a life slave; an indenture adds limits, usually release in good condition after so many years but also clauses that an owner can’t make an indentured journeyman or technician certify something as correct or safe.
The week started this Monday with us six gladiators that Mr Hardwicke introduced in Chapter 12: Mike — 38 years old, six-foot-three, 235 lb, 48 inch chest, 38 inch waist. Darren — 23, six-foot-one, 205 (max for UFC light heavyweight) but still growin, 46 inch chest, 36 inch waist. Steve (me) — 33, six foot, 185 (max for UFC middleweight), 46 inch chest, 32 inch waist. Jamie — 23, five-foot-11, 180, 42 inch chest, 30 inch waist, classic 40-Tall. Jamie’s younger brother, Luke — 18, five-foot-10, 170, 40 inch chest, 30 inch waist, classic 42-Tall. Both Tall male models if the arms and shoulders are cut big enough and if the jackets taper tight enough to the narrow waist. Demon, Darren’s younger brother — 18, five-foot-nine, 180, 40 inch chest, 30 inch waist. Notice how all our guys taper down to narrow waist n hips, rockhard glutes.”
I’m Steve, gladiator slave and construction stud, Steve of Steve’s Studs Inc, Drillers & Blasters. I’m what y’all’d call a French-Canadian half-breed — Dad was a Canadian Méti or “mixed” like Mexican mestizos, the offspring of French-speaking voyageur fur traders and their native wives; Mom was the daughter of an Irish father and Mohawk mother (she’s the Mohawk grandmother who made me a clean freak). Except for the blue eyes, I’d pass for Mexican or Central Asian (Chapter 14). We lived in Iroquois Falls, Ontario, a mill town in the Franch-speaking northern Ontario bush. The summer I graduated high school, at dawn on my 18th birthday, my dad collected me from a bush party and poured me onto a Greyhound to the US border. There a Marine recruiter collected me for an enlistment in the Recon Marines — what I’d always wanted to do. Recons train like Navy Seals, including the five-minute underwater swim, but unlike Seals we train to hold our breath and swim without drugs. We go into situations that might turn out bad in places you never heard of, solve the situations, get out, and NEVER make the news, especially not Fox News — also unlike Seals.
I served 10 years Recon, combat, silver star, two bronze stars, purple hearts, got promoted to sergeant. I got arrested, convicted, caned n strapped, and busted out of the Marines like toxic waste over a misunderstanding with a woman in a bar on my first day back in the States for advanced training. Then a trucker who picked me up tried to put my mouth onto his dick while he drove 20 miles over the limit; that got me my second sexual assault conviction and a five-year gladiator indenture to Phillips Fighters & Fuckers. To protect me from a third conviction, third strike, I’m indentured to a trust in the British Virgin Islands or BVI. Lawyer Jon set up the indenture and trust in Chapter 9 to protect me from any random third-strike conviction and generally getting seized and sold by the county. I live and work with Hardwickes, but I’m leased to black Mr Kraus of Kraus White Horse Co (Chapter 12); they do a lot of public works, and voters like to see the overseer on a white horse workin his black ‘boys’ with a 10-foot David Morgan “Indiana Jones” bullwhip (Chapter 14).
Mike was a Finance MBA from Middle Tennessee State working for a Wall Street bank monitoring trades for any that broke the rules. When the expertly-concealed Amaranth scam damn near broke the bank, Mike took the fall for all the Ivy Leaguers and MIT and Stanford grads, and wound up as slave for life and champion of the Phillips gladiator stable that later bought me and paired me with him. When Jon got me protected in Hardwicke Co, he tracked Mike and bought him for Hardwickes from where Phillips had disposed of him (Chapter 12). Now me n Mike are married gladiator cocaptains.
Darren and Jamie are slaves for life and belong to my trust and Steve’s Studs. Demon and Luke are indentured to my trust and Steve’s Studs. Their dads say they were all random delinquents and that me, my trust, and Hardwickes saved them from real bad situations.
Hardwickes own Mike, like I said. As my Chapter 13 tries to explain, all the rest of us work on 12-year indentures for our training — GEDs for my four dudes while they finish our six-month Hardwickes boot camp, then six-month driller-blaster training for us all, apprenticeships for me as millwright, Jamie as trainee construction overseer, and Darren n Demon as bricklayers. Luke will use the 12 years for community college then university to become an architect. Mike will work some combination of Hardwickes overseer and finance jock. Ranked by general learning ability, Mike’s top 10%, me, Luke, n Jamie rank top 25%, and Darren n Demon fall just below average at top of the bottom 50%.
I should explain masters too. A man belongs to a master when the master not only dominates him sexually (fuck, facefuck) and physically (maybe winning a competition, then using cane, tawse, strap, flogger, whip) but also commits to him by taking a beating with, for, or from the man (Chapter 13). I have four masters — husband Mike (Chapter 13), Boss Henry the head overseer (in Chapter 10, he got blacksnaked, then hung me up for flogger n fucked me), lawyer Jon (who sprang me n Jamie from the gladiator stable, helped me find and rescue Darren when the stable threw him away, outran and mastered me in Chapter 9, and took half my bullwhip, cane, and tawse at the pre-Hardwicke slave barracks — Chapter 11, traded fucks again in Chapter 14), and my owner Mr Kraus (in Chapter 2, he bullwhipped me, fucked me the way a proud black man treats a half-white slave, then I tawsed n fucked him; in Chapter 14 we traded full-nelson fucks and flogs).
WHERE WE LEFT IN CHAPTER 16 —
After Mike (my gladiator cocaptain, husband, and master) strapped my balls and dick, pecs and tits while I held a back bridge (bridge felt good, strap didn’t), strapped my ass while he rammed his dick down my throat, and said he’d fuck me tonight, he said, “But I’m the master you’ve always wanted. The man who believes in you the way you believe in him.”
Fuck! How’d he know? The Marines I always wanted let me down, kicked me out after 10 years Recon, silver star, two bronze stars, purple hearts, and all when I got tangled in a bar misunderstanding with a woman, and the gladiator stable never cared.
Mike knows me well enough to let me EARN his strap and his dick, not just make me take them. Then he said, “But this doesn’t make you a cocksucker.” Right! I’d be a cocksucker if he just told me to and I did. I’d be your basic slave if he’d used his strap to make me suck it. But he let me earn it. I’m so fuckin weird now that I’m proud I took his strap to earn his dick.
I wonder if Mike will strap me first every time he feeds my ass his dick. I wonder if I hope he feeds me his dick either end. I wonder if I hope he straps me while I prep his dick.
Men we pass, even our dudes, smile, whistle, rub n swat my redhot glutes. I stand taller.
AND NOW — MAN-OWNER BONDING
“Hardass!” Mr JL, father of Jamie, my 23-year-old life slave, and his brother, Luke, my 18-year-old indenture.
I DON’T halt, come to attention, military turn to face him, salute, and say, Sir! Yes sir!” like Mr Hardwicke said I would yesterday (Chapter 12). I don’t salute. Marines don’t salute indoors because we don’t salute uncovered or bareheaded and we uncover when we enter a building. But I do halt, snap to attention, military turn to face him, and say, “Sir! Yes sir!”
He grabs both glutes, then pulls me towards him crotch to crotch (men have started doing this), says, “Wow! Hotass!”
“That hot ass NEEDS a cold soak like you did with Jon yesterday (Chapter 12) after you and he got bullwhipped, tawsed, caned, facefucked, and fucked at the slave barracks earlier that morning (Chapter 11). That hot ass WANTS a hot dick, as you showed twice yesterday (I pointed both hands to it with a dick still down my throat — Chapter 12 after Jon caned me to agree to sell myself to Mr Kraus and after Mr Kraus strapped me to agree that my fellow owners can flog me for “attitude” and fuck me for “services”).”
“I’ll explain how I learned while you heat this cold dick (which he shoves down my throat with hot lube — I’m back across a table, face turned half sideways at his crotch, butt opposite) and I keep your pussy hot. We’ll talk when my hot dick goes up that hot pussy.”
“We’ll chill that hot ass when we finish here. We have at least half an hour because Mr DD (father of Darren, my other 23-year-old life slave, and Demon, his brother and my other 18-year-old indenture) is bonding with Mike just like Mike just bonded with you (strap ass while dick rams throat).” Wow! I want to protect my master, Mike, but can’t.
“Did you and Mike leave anything unfinished?” Extracts dick so I can answer.
“Sir! Yes, Sir! 10 strokes, I indicate which side of the strap just hit — holes (hold up right hand, circle thumb and fingers) or solids (hold up left hand flat). Right answer gets next stroke; wrong answer gets five strokes (right, wrong, right, wrong, right) plus that next stroke. Sir!” Dick back in.
“Turn your right hand over, palms up.” He holds the strap in front of my eyes, slaps my palm with the solid side. He repeats with the holes.
“An odd time to say this, but OUR sons” — He sees my look, my eyes open wide, buzzed eyebrows up, his dick down my throat — “Your sons and mine, Jamie and Luke, because the next dozen or so years (Chapter 13) they’ll maybe grow up more, learn more with you than they did with me in Jamie’s first 17 years and Luke’s first 18. Maybe they’ll end up in a better life. All the grief you’re taking gives both of them the opportunities they wouldn’t accept from me.” (We all extend our indentures to Hardwicke Co to 12 years for Luke to finish his high-school GED, graduate in architecture while Jamie finishes his GED and a couple community-college diplomas towards becoming a construction overseer — and they both train with me as drillers & blasters). His crotch and dick rise and take my face and neck along when he pulls himself, both heads, more erect.
“Our sons and I are VERY proud they belong to you, the way you live your manhood to express it, how you stay Strong Steve, how you accept whatever you have to take to keep them safe.” I try to smile. “And they say you make sure they brush their teeth every bedtime. Mohawk grandmother?” I nod, try to smile.
“We’ll do 10 sets but only three after wrong answer – right, wrong, right.”
Stroke 1 hits. I show solids, take hard holes to right hand then ass, then hard solid to left hand and ass, hard holes to right hand then ass.
“Do you feel the difference on your palms? Right hand up if yes, left hand if no.” I show left hand. “Okay, slave. No more hand targets — we need those slave paws in shape for log pt.”
“A couple strokes that don’t count toward the 10. One down each glute.” He was standing at my head, leaning over my back to swing the strap. Ouch! Ouch again! He says to feel the glutes he just hit. “Which one has bumps?” I point to the left one. “Right, stud! Remember how that hit felt.”
Stroke 2. Solid. “Right, boy.”
Stroke 3. Hole. “Wrong, boy.” Solid-holes-solid.
My butt’s so inflamed that everything feels, hits solid, even after the practice pair, so I eat maybe half a dozen holes-solid-holes butt sets.
He thrusts deeper while he leans n reaches to rub, massage the inflamed glutes and sore neck, to drag some knuckles through the traps n lats.
Stroke 10. Holes. “Right. boy.” Maybe even I can learn this.
Dick out. He walks around to my side of the table. Helps me stand crotch to crotch, hugs me, hands on hot glutes.
Quick slug from a water bottle, rinse mouth. He asks if I can talk. I nod. Chest down again onto table, Mr JL and his dick behind me against my hot ass, quick hot lube into hole and onto balls and dick. Quick ram into hole. He apologizes — I’m just his third male fuck after the two yesterday, which he tells me about — the “explain.”
“While you and Jon ran and bonded at noon yesterday and while Mr Hardwicke and Mr Whitmore asserted their ownership of Mike in y’all’s old bedroom (Chapter 12), Mr Kraus herded me and Mr DD into Jon’s office again. We turn, face the door, strip, set shoes and fold clothes next to door, stand facing door, legs hip width apart, hands behind head, get blindfolded, get wireless earbuds inserted. Mr Kraus says, ‘You’ll hear only my voice. You’ll take a couple dicks, which can be mine or the other man’s sons’, and you’ll put your dick down and up the other man’s sons. Your sons will cane you. This will help you learn how to cane Steve and how to cane y’all’s four sons to express your feelings about their ending up here as slaves and indentures plus practise for Steve. You’ll also experience some of their slave experiences. Please let us bend you over Jon’s desk.’”
“We feel something like a beach towel against our thighs. Then one hand goes behind the base of our skulls while another hand turns our chins up halfway, mine to the left, they say facing Mr DD, his to the right facing me.
“Mr Kraus says, ‘Breathe through your nose while one of the other man’s sons (or maybe me) shoves his dick into your mouth and towards your throat. Try not to gag and not to bite. Your job is to excite that dick — lots of stimuli, not just on the sensitive head but along the shaft too — lips plus tongue plus throat opening, maybe breathe on it when it’s not all the way back. One or two of YOUR sons will motivate your backside with a cane, as many strokes as it takes to prep your butt and the other man’s sons’ dicks.’ Then a dick goes into my mouth and I guess another into Mr DD’s. So this is what it feels like. The scene might turn on the dude with the dick, but for me and my throat. I prefer a woman’s tongue, not so far back. It certainly reinforces submission, makes me feel like a dominated slave. I guess this is how our sons want you to make them feel.”
“Mr Kraus continues, ‘This first cane stroke HITS TOO HARD!!!. (Too damn right!). The next stroke’s too easy (Fuck! He’s right!). And THIS ONE’s just right! (Damn! He’s right again. Weird!) Y’all aim for ‘just right’ when y’all practise on y’all’s sons and work on Steve.’”
“The cane stops and restarts when the throat dicks change with a couple shoulder rubs, knuckles into traps, lats. Hotlube after the cane, then a dick goes up my ass. The dick up my ass works what I didn’t know I had, then shoots. The other dude’s dick shoots down my throat. I guess I shot plus fragged — my first ever. Mr DD and Mr Kraus said later that they fragged too.”
“I need the break and the coffee before Jamie. Then Jamie lays himself over the desk for me to cane, still hearing Mr Kraus’s instructions In the earbuds and feeling Luke’s hands on my butt and knuckles into it. I feel my swings improve. Jamie responds too. They switch. It’s harder to cane Luke than Jamie, even with Jamie’s hands working my caned butt. He starts swatting my butt with each cane stroke. Luke gave me less grief, didn’t go out of his way to bug me.”
Then Mr JL surprises me again — “Back in WAH-oming, where I studied energy economics and sports psych at the university on a tennis scholarship, we’d say ‘Mike done busted you like a cowboy busts a stallion.’ The cowboy needs a stallion and chooses the dominant one, the alpha stallion, from the herd. After the stallion gets busted, he seems pleased to belong to the cowboy, acts more dominant, studlier with the other horses. Sometimes he grows his dick when he sees his cowboy, looks like he flexes his neck and front shoulders.”
Mr JL squeezes, rubs, digs, swats my hot ass. He rams in, works traps and lats, swats butt. He has to be crushing the balls I feel each time he thrusts. We both frag.
“But if Mike brings you an apple, duck, because like a cowboy he’ll have a steel bit for your tongue in his other hand.”
I have to ask, “Sir! Would you like me to get you hard again so you can fuck me face to face, my legs over your shoulders, our hands on each other’s chests, Sir?” He said this surprises him – the position and that I’d volunteer for another facefuck-strap. So tits to table again, his dick down my throat, his strap on my strapped ass. Then a more personal connection, me on my back, hotlubed dick back up my hotlubed hole, my strong shaped legs on his strong tennis-shaped shoulders, around his strong shaped neck, eye to eye, hands to shaped pecs n tits. Feel bonded. Better frag. Fuck! I get off getting fucked!
“Thanks, Stud! Know why we ask you to identify the solid or holes strap?” Me — “Sir! Body awareness, Sir?” Mr JL — “Right, Stud!”
“Now let’s chill that hot ass so it doesn’t get, look TOO ugly. Your blacksnaked back and chest and the strapped hands too.” He half supports me, half carries me into the trainer’s suite and a cold plunge. “Head, fingers, toes out. Zone on the dick you warmed up and my voice while I talk.”
The sports psych helps his work as an energy trader. He still coaches tennis on the side, brought Jamie and Luke up training and playing. Jamie could have earned a tennis scholarship and degree like his but fucked it away as a bike racer and courier, ended up at 17 in my gladiator cell (Chapter 12).
Mr JL learned to cane and to strap Jamie when he had to collect him and his bike from Slaves R Us after Jamie’d biked out to get bullwhipped the second time he got caught as a bike courier stealing from a receptionist (blacksnake starts at 18).
“Before the drive home I asked Jamie what I could do to impress him, maybe help him think first. He didn’t use my car, he went to bed early, worked early Monday to Friday, would rather bike than drive, raced and trained weekends, so I couldn’t ground a working courier, couldn’t ground a winning racer, couldn’t pull the car keys since he biked everywhere.”
“Jamie hung with the other flogged dudes while I bought the middle-weight cane we both hoped might stop him before any further trouble, since nothing else had worked. The shop said he’d ‘want’ a strap too to reinforce the cane’s work — and that I’d need to experience both first and then to practise them. My first time getting caned and strapped; until yesterday I thought it would be the last. I caned and strapped him, first time ever, when we got home. I ignored it when he maybe gestured for me to fuck him like I guess the alpha couriers did after they caned him. The next day, the couriers liked what the strap did to his butt so well that after his last delivery they made him bike back to “Slaves R Us” to buy one for them to use.
“He charged it to the team but they took it out of his weekly allowance. Most of his pay went into a fund for his education – a fund they expected they’d never have to pay because their semidelinquent young dudes mostly go off the rails rather than on to apprenticeships or college. We’ll try to get those bucks to help with his college or tech school tuition.”
So Mr JL knew about the two sides of the strap – holes in the rubber piece hurt more because they raise the bumps that the solids hit, and rubber around the holes stings because it moves the skin. Then the leather side with the hacksaw blade in it targets these miniwelts. The rubber side wraps the glute, makes it sting worse. The leather-hacksaw-blade side hits harder, flexes but doesn’t wrap. With leather side first you don’t really notice the rubber side landing.”
“The next time I got a call about Jamie’s work I used the cane and strap to, uh, intensify our talk. But 16-year-old Jamie worried more about the alpha couriers who were getting him into trouble — caning and fucking him too — so he moved in with them. Shortened his commute but cut the conversation, cut the relationship.”
A few months later, after the 17th birthday Mr JL managed to celebrate with Jamie in a rare overnight with him and 12-year-old brother Luke, a deputy sheriff he knew called to warn him to collect and sell Jamie before the county arrested and sold him. That got him to my gladiator stable and into the cell I shared with champion Mike because Mr JL told Jamie to stick we me. Mr JL remembered driving me back to the Marine barracks the day I got convicted, caned, and strapped at the Municipal Punishment Centre — when Jamie got strapped as the price of quitting school at 16 (Chapter 12). Seeing his 17-year-old big brother go down was so hard for 12-year-old Luke that he started the gangbanger track that led him to me as my 18-year-old indenture.
So Jamie provokes me because he wants me to master him, like Jon said in Chapter 14 and like (as?) Jamie almost said in Chapter 13 this morning, when Darren full-nelson-fucked me while Jamie worked my chest and tits with his lead-hand quirt.
Mr JL asks, “Am I bullying you? Picking on you? Abusing my position with you?”
Fuck! How do I answer this? “Sir! No, sir! You’re treating me the way an owner does a slave, Sir, especially with my shareholders’ agreement that lets you flog me for ‘attitude,’ fuck me for “services” too, just so it don’t interfere with my work, Sir!”
Mr JL makes a funny expression when he says, “I do wonder about treating a real war hero (silver star, two bronze stars, purple hearts — Chapter 12) like some delinquent slave.”
“Sir! I’m proud to do the jobs I signed up for — Recon Marine, gladiator slave, now construction stud warrior slave, Sir!”
Mr JL goes on, “You say you’ve not wanted to master Jamie, not just because he used the gladiator stable’s guards and slave prods to train you not to lay a finger on him, let alone dick IN him, but also because you don’t want to bully him, misuse your authority, abuse him. But you say it’s okay for me to use my position to strap you, face-fuck you, fuck you. So Jamie acts like a brat to provoke you. (Chapter13)”
“Master Jamie, Stud Steve, before he and I both master YOU again. Master nice kid Luke too.”
“Questions about your time in Tajikistan as a captive working on the young dudes’ crew before the warlord’s son scared you into running away so he could capture and enslave you (this afternoon’s Chapter 14 with lawyer Jon and Facetiming chief Khaled, who captured and enslaved me when I tried to escape after he had his dad talk about keeping me).
“You said that the bullwhipping when they recaptured you was your first, but you also said that on the young dudes’ crew you got bullwhipped when you and another dude raced up a cellphone tower like you and Darren did last Thursday (Chapter 6) and bullwhipped plus blacksnaked that night (Chapter 7). So how was getting flogged (Chapter 14) when you got captured your ‘first’?”
“Sir! I guess I meant my first bullwhipping as a slave, because my crew told me that getting worked in the mountains with a quirt and bullwhipped when I broke safety was how young dudes get worked. Getting captured, flogged, and enslaved scared me the way getting whipped on the dude’s crew didn’t because I didn’t know if I’d ever get back to the Marines.”
“One more thing, Steve. It sounds like Mike’s your first real friend, but that’s complicated, and you’ve never had someone you trust who you could talk with the way you can’t with Mike. Just a sounding board, not someone who can order you what to do or not do and punish you if you don’t or do. You know that Jon did a dual major in accounting and psych, but you probably didn’t know that besides me Boss Henry did a sports psych minor. You could talk with any of us, but I’m the one who’s not also a master. Boss Henry’s like a dad to lots of Hardwicke men. But because I’m just an owner, not a master, and I like you (not just to flog and fuck unless you want to), I’d like to be your brother. Any overseer or lead hand with a cell phone could help you call me any time.”
Mr JL helps me out of the cold soak, helps dry me, dries my butt enthusiastically. He adjusts his gladiator strap while I pull mine back on again. But before we head for bareass log PT we talk about my upcoming 30 days back at the gladiator stable, Phillips Fuckers & Fighters About the 30 days — We’re starting to become Steve’s Studs, Drillers & Blasters. Okay — compare Drill with Fuck, Blast with Fight.)
Mr JL – “Another question. Where does this ‘hard outdoor labour under the lash’ come from?”
“Sir! I guess from Jason, when I told him about my time as a captive in the mountains.”
“That 30 days back with Phillips — Mr DD and I negotiated with Phillips because we knew their manager from selling him my Jamie and Mr DD’s Darren. As you heard, they wanted to pay just that one month at the basic slave ‘wage’ because we’d get half the pay-per-view for your three bullwhippings (days 1, 15, and 30) and 10 fights (days 3, 6, and on to 30). We asked for 20 months pay for the 30 days, like the usual two months between the 10 fights.”
“Those three bullwhippings mattered more to them than you training their men to fight without headshots. They ‘recruit’ so cheaply from the county that a concussion ending a dude’s career and useful life doesn’t bother them. So we reminded them that their gladiators’ ticket sales, pays per view, and betting are all drying up as folks get bored with anonymous thugs punching each other’s lights out to end their careers in just one martial arts discipline — kickboxing like Darren did, wrestling like Jamie, and brawling like you and Mike.”
“We showed them the views, pay-per-views, and subscriptions that Steve’s Studs and Slave Steve’s Greatest Hits have already generated. And we offered them no-concussion matches with buff construction studs like ours in popular, money-making mixed martial arts or MMA Ultimate Fighting – the sport that sold before slavery made one-discipline gladiator recruits cheap for buyers, cheap enough to throw away as punchdrunk ex-gladiators. Selling new slaves earns the county money, they don’t have to pay to jail the dudes, and the supply never runs out.”
So Phillips will pay for the 15 months that my 40% makes the six months that they tried to steal when they didn’t tell me about the 10% amnesty on my five-year indenture. Back in my “Reluctant gladiator” prehistory on nifty.org/authoritarian, Attorney Jon, one of my masters now plus creator and trustee of my BVI trust that owns me and my men , and his wife Anne, my defence attorney, sprang me and Jamie from Phillips (Chapter 9). They’d had the stable’s top two (me n Mike) fight, then rented the winner (me) to impregnate Anne because her body rejected Jon’s fetuses (Chapter 11). “Our” son is developing nicely.
Gotta ask one more thing. “Sir! Am I a pain pig? Am I a blacksnake n ass-strap whore?”
He holds me n my glutes tight, rubs me easy. “No, stud. But you are an endorphin junkie — why you work and train so intensely, with such dedication, trying for perfection. Why Hardwickes had to make you the littlest big Dawg (Chapter 8) . Do you notice what you do when you get bored waiting around?”
“Sir? No, Sir.”
“You drop for one-arm pushups, quietly, like you don’t to be noticed. Remember doing that?”
“Sir! No, Sir, I don’t.” He smiles, swats my butt, both hands, pulls me tighter.
He goes on, “Taking the cane and strap and blacksnake, beating the man swinging at you, must generate endorphins like winning a match with another fighter. What you told the apprentices getting punished with y’all last Thursday (Chapter 7), let the man hurt you but don’t let him break you. Endorphin junkie fits your endurance training, running, climbing, holding pullups. I understand. For my tennis, I like to train and play past wanting to quit too.”
========================================
ABOUT JASON
Mr JL – “When Mr DD and I wrapped with Phillips about your 30 days there, they asked if we wanted Jason. They valued that ex-Marine corporal, like you but with a better lawyer after his first conviction for molesting teenagers he was supposed to coach. Jason was just a corporal with that major conviction; you were a sergeant who grabbed a woman’s wrist in a bar after she slapped you for something you said, then you fought off a trucker who picked you up hitching and tried to put your mouth over his dick while he drove. No using a position of trust to molest minors.”
“Jason had his lawyer sell him to your stable as an experienced NCO who understood fucked-up men like gladiators. He learned the gladiator business, got to know the other stables, helped with training and setting up matches, and kept y’all quiet enough not to bother the overseers.”
“Jamie said the men obeyed Jason but disliked and feared him, that he harrassed and raped them, and that Jason ragged you because you showed how much you resented him, but mostly because even worse than he ragged Jamie, Jason ragged you because he wanted to provoke you to master him.” Fuck! Any move on Jason would’ve got me flogged into dogfood.
“The stable managers didn’t mind him buggering their men – Jamie says ‘raping’ — but they had to get rid of Jason when he got three convictions for molesting kids on a soccer team he coached. He was giving the stable and its men a bad rep, even if some folks thought the convict gladiators deserved him.”
“Now Jason’s their slave because when an indenture commits an offense that would get him enslaved, the slave bureau just registers him to the indenture holder — why Boss Henry said his Alabama Crimson Tide like their football jocks indentured so when a jock fucks up they can get him a better situation than a county auction, like what brought Boss Henry here.”
“Anyway, the stable wants to sell Slave Jason because he’s making their matches even less popular. We owners think he could help our team — training, setting up matches, promoting our no-head-shots league. Training will make him y’all’s overseer, but only during training times. We know he’s a bully, but you four (me, Mike, Jamie, and Darren) can have fun shaping this VERY junior overseer up when he’s not overseeing your gladiating; y’all can make sure he doesn’t abuse his overseeing y’all’s training.”
“He gets the overseer’s bullwhip, cane, and the right to adjust attitudes with up to 12 strokes. But outside gladiator training, you captains are the team’s overseers, so y’all can adjust Jason by cane and bullwhip plus facefuck-strap. That’s no way gladiating, so he doesn’t have that.”
“And all y’all will top him at his gladiator challenge because he’ll score way less at each event (up to 12 strokes each plank for cane, low pushup for tawse, overhead or back pushup for quirt to pecs n tits, then balls n dick, finally hold pullup for front flogger, 12 pullups plus leg lifts for back bullwhip – end of Chapter 12). He’s out of shape, so when we compare his scores with each of y’all’s he’s y’all’s meat. So why don’t you want to vote your 40 shares to help buy Jason? Why take three dozen blacksnake lashes the first night?” The (other) owners need me to vote my 40 shares to make the ¾ approval, and they can persuade me by blacksnake (not bullwhip when they all agree). First day 36 lashes, 24 next, 18 third. (Chapter 12)
“Sir! Besides not wanting that prick as an overseer again, even just for gladiator training, maybe it’s honour that won’t let me let him near Jamie and Luke, Sir! And I need to show him and my men what I’ll do to protect them, how much I don’t want him, Sir?”
He says to think about it, talk with my men.
================
BAREASS LOG PT
Everybody wears a gladiator strap and steel-toe work boots. Us six gladiators, plus …
the five Hardwicke dudes crew — the Bulgarian apprentices training with us, electrician Sparky and plumber Mario (Chapter 7, when they tapped a client’s single malt, got flogged with us), plus the two overseers training with us as punishment — Pete for him letting me n Darren race up a scaffold (Chapter 7) and senior overseer Boss Henry for missing a body-fat target (Chapter 10), and Ape, the former Mr Jackson, who ripped off the Ace Plumbing & Electrical (APE) that he managed (Chapter 7). No question massive Boss Henry and bodybuilding overseer Pete are up for log pt, and the Bulgarian apprentices say they got fed so many steroids they damn near glow in the dark. Ape will stand in the middle.
The third crew is the five owners (Hardwicke Co’s Mr Hardwicke n Mr Whitmore, Jamie n Luke’s dad Mr JL, Darren n Demon’s dad Mr DD) plus lawyer Jon. Mr Hardwicke n Mr Whitmore were Army Airborne majors, so trained almost as intensely as my Recon Marines, but not their last 10 years here. My Mr Kraus was a captain in the Army Corps of Engineers at least that long ago, so he trained but less intensely than Airborne, may not remember log pt. Lawyer Jon was in the even less physical Judge Advocate General’s Corps, but he stays in shape rowing. Mr JL’s in shape from tennis, like I just learned after he called me ‘hotass.”
After we watch a demo video and discuss it, we all collect, jog to the lumber yard, and form three groups (gladiators, owners + Jon, two Hardwicke overseers + apprentices + Ape). Each group stands beside a peeled log about three metres or ten feet long lying on a pair foot-long 2”X4” sections. I say, “The only rule – move your body side to side and up or down the log so you keep your shoulder under the log; use both hands to hold it. No one man can move the log himself to keep in on his shoulder. We learn the teamwork so all five or six men move the log together. No quick moves.”
The groups form up tallest to shortest. Us gladiators take the left side of the middle log. 6’3” Mike and 6’1” Darren turn to face 6’ me; 5’11” Jamie, 5’10” Luke, n 5’9” Demon stand behind us. The other two teams turn sideways to watch us. I demo the moves to crouch back erect, wrap right hand under log, lay left hand over it opposite. The crew join me. DEEP breath. Lift log onto shoulder. Slowly straighten knees. Walk forward. Lift log overhead and lay it on left shoulder. Walk backward. Rotate 90 degrees left — I stay in place, Mike and Darren sidestep left, behind me Jamie and Luke sidestep right. Halt. Shift to right shoulder. Walk backwards to original position. Lift log overhead and set it down onto its 2”X4” blocks. Straighten up, breathe, congratulate each other.
Then the two other crews practise it, both angled so they can watch us do it again.
Meanwhile, the overseers and trainers are watching, seeing how they might uh, motivate or enhance our moves. Bullwhips work great on front and back dudes, and they try rib shots on us in the middle but too little muscle on the ribs and too hard to miss the armpits. Not room for quirts. They try tawses on middle ribcages and glutes. They seem happiest with slaveprods, but even toned down they damn near cause a couple drops. Us three target teams are less happy. We agree later that bullwhip’s best, hits a bigger area, don’t jolt like a prod. They say we’ll train together. Ouch!
I say, “Sirs! The log n our dudes along it motivate real thoroughly; we’re VERY aware. Y’all can see who’s slacking by who’s not straining. To fuck off, a dude would slide far enough forward to put his shoulder close to the log without bearing his share. Blast him with whatever. But “motivating” anybody just distracts him and the rest of us. Well, maybe bullwhip the first dude’s chest, the last dude’s back, butt, if we seem to relax, move too slow.”
“Sirs! There are 10 of y’all? Please form two lines with me in the middle of one, front dudes turn to face me. Maybe hand off a pair of bullwhips to Mr Harwdicke n Mr Whitmore, Boss Henry n Overseer Pete, to stand by. Some surprised noises, grumbles, threats that sound half-serious, but they do.
I tell both lines to practise the moves without a log, then my line to follow me to control and lift our log while the other line watches. Next up both lines. Congratulations all round. The trainers agree, slap my back, slap my back, slap my butt. Cooldown stretches.
MEN’S GLADIATOR CHALLENGE. I’M TRAINER, NOT TARGET.
Jog back to office-barracks building. Washroom. Coffee, snacks if we want them. The lounge or hall. The other slaves break from their training to watch plus two beers each.
Beers for us before gladiator challenge, but I pass, want to stay sharp. For the challenge, both crews, tops and targets, line up tallest first, left to right. Top 6’4”Boss Henry stands behind target 6’1” Darren, 6’3” Mike stands behind 5’11” Jamie, 6’2” Overseer Pete stands behind 5’10” Luke, 6’ me stands behind 5’9” Demon, 5’11” Mr Whitmore stands behind 5’9” apprentice plumber Mario, and 5’10” Mr Hardwicke stands behind 5’8” apprentice electrician Sparky. The targets switch to jock straps to frame the butt and leave it clear, like me n Mike figured out this morning in Chapter 13. The six tops for the five events mean I don’t have to do my more-or-less foster son Jamie.
That long, low platform rises. First event, low plank for cane. 12 strokes at 30 second intervals. Men down, plank toes to elbows. We stand on their left. Demon breathes hard, while I hear Luke to my left breathe steady. Ranging tap. Adjust my position and stance. Wind up. One! Hit high. Demon’s butt dents, twitches but stays in place. Two! Hit a couple centimetres lower. Demon shakes n his butt dents, twitches but stays in place. Breathe deep. Flex. Wind up. Three! Hit a couple centimetres lower. Trainers tawse the men to ‘help’ them hold position. The count builds while Demon’s butt twitches more, looks uglier. For six I land an angle, what Jason called a five-bar gate. For the next set, I hit a centimetre below the first ones. Demon shakes worse, breathes harder, swears louder each time, drops at around ten. I hear Luke carry on, catch his eye when he winks at me. One for my Luke. The men stand, stretch, roll, flex.
Next event, low pushup for tawse, touch tits or dick means lose. I grab a tawse from a trainer, move right to Mario’s butt for the first six. It seems easier to make an impression with the cane. He lasts for them plus four to the shoulders. I see Sparky going on for the full 12.
I grab a quirt, move right to Sparky for the back or overhead pushup. Sparky grins at me for the six quirt strokes to tits, then pulls his tackle over the waistband for six to balls n dick. He don’t grin but still outlasts Mario to about 10.
Move to head of line, flogger to hanging Darren. He takes the 12. So does Jamie to his right.
Move right to the fifth event (unless there’s a tie for someone else to blacksnake the pair).
To enjoy bullwhipping Jamie’s back while he does pullups, holds for the whip, I concentrate on how he’s tried to get me mad enough to master him. It works for me and for Jamie, who takes the dozen. I heard Darren drop sometime before. At the end, I grab Jamie, hug him tits to tits, crotch to crotch (a couple centimetres or an inch or so below mine), rub his back, congratulate him, ask how his other events have gone.
He grabs my two triceps, holds me at arm’s length, looks me in the eyes, says, “Sir! Please fuck me, Sir!”
I look around for an owner or overseer – rule’s no fucking except in private, certainly not in the lounge. Mr Whitmore, to my right, says “Go ahead. You two have earned it.” Like his dad, Mr JL, told me before log pt, Jamie’s been trying to provoke me even after he used the gladiator stable guards and their slaveprods to train me not to touch him.
So a standing full-nelson fuck, my first as fucking top since that day in Tajikistan when I held the warlord’s son for his slave initiation to the tribe and its young dudes crew (Chapter 14). First Luke pulls off my gladiator strap, hotlubes my surprised dick. Jamie’s partner, Darren, pulls off Jamie’s gladiator strap, grabs a quirt like Jamie used on my pecs n tits when Darren held n fucked their confused master (me) in Chapter 13, motivates my butt thrusts We all three frag.
Jamie catches my eye, says “Sir! I’ll take a whip with you, I’ll take a whip for you, I’ll take a whip from you, I’ll take a dick with you, I’ll take a dick for you, I’ll take a dick from you because I belong to you, Sir” The gladiator oath!
Everyone congratulates me, slaps back, slaps butt, twists tits.
COMPANY BAREASS SHIVAREE
The dudes except me n Mike head to claim the competition winners’ prizes. Mr Hardwicke asks, “Steve, does your backwoods French include ‘droit du seigneur?’”
“Sir, the right of the lord, Sir ?”
He grins. “Right, Stud! The right to do what?”
I’m stumped. Mike answers, “Sir! The right to, uh, sleep with the bride first, before the husband, Sir!”
Mr Hardwicke smiles, “Half right, stud. Bride plus husband. Both you two lose the glad straps.” We all walk to the training room and stand opposite the wall of one-way mirrors. Me n Mike face the mirrors on the opposite wall.
Fuck! I’m Boss Henry’s full-nelson fuck. He has to bend his knees — he’s 6’4” to my 6’. 6’3” Mike is 5’11’ Mr Whitmore’s, so Mike has to bend his knees. I ask Boss Henry if we should switch – he takes Mike, Mr Hardwicke takes me? Boss answers, “This is mastery, boy, not efficiency.” Boss is my master; Mr H n Mr W own n master Mike.
Pete’s in front of the mirror, facin us, flickin a quirt. Boss Henry says real proud, “What a beautiful man!”
I answer, “Boss, you n your Amy must feel real proud of Pete.” Pete’s the son of Boss Henry n his wife, Amy.
Boss answers, “Right, stud. Pete has most of Amy’s brains, most of my muscle. Fitness model, competitive body builder. Solid B+ average, high school and now tech school. High school all-conference quarterback, now the company’s. You know his overseeing, his flogging ability (he’s quirting my pecs n tits now). But if he pulls out a g’itar, git! But the beautiful man I’m talking about is you.”
He asks how I’m doing in this scene, says maybe I feel a little slack. He asks if I need the blacksnake now? Fuck! “Sir! Yes, Sir!” I hope this don’t make me a blacksnake whore, what Mr JL says I’m not. He says I’m an endorphin junkie, and this scene REALLY fires endorphins plus adrenaline.
I feel Boss’s head nod to Pete. “Plan B, Pete.” Pete takes his blacksnake. Don’t know how many. Dick n I flex taller, Boss’s dick flexes taller too. Frag!
We disengage, hug, work my pecs, back, glutes. Wipe down. Don’t know how Mike did, but me n him split a beer.
Boss says, “I can’t keep the men from uh, asserting on your chest and back (bullwhip), ass (cane) and hole (dick). But I can give you the deal Mr Hardwicke’s granddad gave me when they bought me from Amy’s dad. As I told you Saturday night (Chapter 10), the Crimson Tide liked its off-season jocks indentured in case we fucked up because then we’d get enslaved to the indenture holders for a deal like mine with Hardwickes, not the county and its auctions. I was indentured to Amy’s dad’s lumber yard when we had the party before us two indentures go to summer football training while two Army ROTC (officer trainees) finished their summer training and replaced us.
“My deal with the senior Mr Hardwicke was, a man asserting his authority has to beat me in fitness challenges that I choose – one, two of up to three, or three of up to five . A man I fancy, maybe let him win arm-wrestling or pushups or pullups. Four obvious challenges — pushups, pullups, dips, overhead or back pushups. For a fifth, obvious burpees or, better, plyometric jumps onto and off a platform. But I preferred handstand pushups.”
“Pete, demo three. Jamie, help hold up his legs.” Pete goes to a handstand, Jamie circles his arms around Pete’s legs. Jamie counts one, two, three. Pete flips to standing.
Boss nods at me n Luke. I hold a handstand, Luke circles my legs loosely. Boss says, “Go.” After three my arms n shoulders wanna quit, but I manage maybe half a dozen. Pete grins, cranks a couple more.
Pete says I’ll be busy tonight, so he’ll claim me at a time that suits Mike.
TEAM SHIVAREE
When the bosses turn me n Mike loose, we kinda stagger towards each other, hug, first KISS! We head to the washroom (what Marines call the head), brush our teeth, mostly cold shower, dry each other, grab gladiator straps but don’t put them in. At our cell door, I hold mine and Mike’s in my teeth and reach for the door handle while Mike picks me up, flexes my shoulder chip to the reader.
We don’t see nothin after the door opens. I don’t remember much neither. Gladiator strap goes around my eyes. Some dude takes me from Mike or grabs me after he starts to drop me. Noise-cancelling earbuds, like Mr JL described. I’m stood up with one handcuff loop around my balls. The other must go around Mike’s because he’s standin close enough to me for me to feel his chest, his balls n dick, and his thighs against mine.
We get shuffled to maybe the middle of the cell. Jamie through the earbuds — “Please excuse us, Sirs, while we adjust y’all’s attitudes. Hug each other’s necks.” Fuckin bullwhip! My dude hits WAY too hard, worries me about skin breakin, staggers me, but Mike held on. Weird, but the next lash, next 11 feel ‘right.’ Mike feels like his dude’s whippin well too. How’d they learn? Pete? Me n Mike rub pecs, tits, dicks. Don’t try to kiss — that three inches taller’n me. We frag together.
Jamie says, “Arms hang loose.” Mine do. Hotlube on my pecs n tits, on my balls n dick, in my hole. Dude a little shorter than me pulls me into a full-nelson fuck. Has to be Jamie because Darren will do Mike — their legs are the same length as mine, and both their dicks line up with my hole so with each other’s. I bend my knees just enough.
This time Jamie growls, “Y’all don’t talk unless you two want to kneel together for dicks down y’all’s throats, n that wouldn’t feel good with the handcuffs.”
I concentrate on the full-nelson fuck, my naked chest in a muscle sandwich between Jamie n Mike, Jamie works both our bodies and his dick. I try my arms around Jamie’s neck. Around his low back, on his butt feels easier on my shoulders. I feel his glutes work. Fuck! He feels n fucks good too.
Jamie says, “Y’all thank Overseer Pete for the handcuffs, earbuds, bullwhip training.” How would I have noticed random bullwhip tracks on my dudes among the evidence of all the other action?
Cuffs, gladstrap blindfolds off. Jamie says, “Y’all lick y’all’s spunk off each other.” We do. Luke collects the earbuds while Demon coils our bullwhips n hangs ‘em on their hooks. We all hug, swat backs, swat butts. Our four dudes congratulate us masters on our wedding, wish us a good night, leave.
Mike collects me outside the open cell door, picks me up, carries me through it, shoulders it shut, drops to one knee to drop me on my left side on the futon, his left arm under me, his left hand to my tits. His arms n legs wrap me, his dick drives in n out of my still-lubed hole. We shoot, no frag, crash. 06:00 comes WAY too early.
Where we left in Chapter 16
After Mike (my gladiator cocaptain, husband, and master) strapped my balls and dick, pecs and tits while I held a back bridge (bridge felt good, strap didn’t), strapped my ass while he rammed his dick down my throat, and said he’d fuck me tonight, he said, “But I’m the master you’ve always wanted. The man who believes in you the way you believe in him.”
Fuck! How’d he know? The Marines I always wanted let me down, kicked me out after 10 years Recon, silver star, two bronze stars, purple hearts, and all when I got tangled in a bar misunderstanding with a woman, and the gladiator stable never cared.
Mike knows me well enough to let me EARN his strap and his dick, not just make me take them. Then he said, “But this doesn’t make you a cocksucker.” Right! I’d be a cocksucker if he just told me to and I did. I’d be your basic slave if he’d used his strap to make me suck it. But he let me earn it. I’m so fuckin weird now that I’m proud I took his strap to earn his dick.
I wonder if Mike will strap me first every time he feeds my ass his dick. I wonder if I hope he feeds me his dick either end. I wonder if I hope he straps me while I prep his dick.
Men we pass, even our dudes, smile, whistle, rub n swat my redhot glutes. I stand taller.
And Now — Man-Owner Bonding
“Hardass!” Mr JL, father of Jamie, my 23-year-old life slave, and his brother, Luke, my 18-year-old indenture.
I DON’T halt, come to attention, military turn to face him, salute, and say, Sir! Yes sir!” like Mr Hardwicke said I would yesterday (Chapter 12). I don’t salute. Marines don’t salute indoors because we don’t salute uncovered or bareheaded and we uncover when we enter a building. But I do halt, snap to attention, military turn to face him, and say, “Sir! Yes sir!”
He grabs both glutes, then pulls me towards him crotch to crotch (men have started doing this), says, “Wow! Hotass!”
“That hot ass NEEDS a cold soak like you did with Jon yesterday (Chapter 12) after you and he got bullwhipped, tawsed, caned, facefucked, and fucked at the slave barracks earlier that morning (Chapter 11). That hot ass WANTS a hot dick, as you showed twice yesterday (I pointed both hands to it with a dick still down my throat — Chapter 12 after Jon caned me to agree to sell myself to Mr Kraus and after Mr Kraus strapped me to agree that my fellow owners can flog me for “attitude” and fuck me for “services”).”
“I’ll explain how I learned while you heat this cold dick (which he shoves down my throat with hot lube — I’m back across a table, face turned half sideways at his crotch, butt opposite) and I keep your pussy hot. We’ll talk when my hot dick goes up that hot pussy.”
“We’ll chill that hot ass when we finish here. We have at least half an hour because Mr DD (father of Darren, my other 23-year-old life slave, and Demon, his brother and my other 18-year-old indenture) is bonding with Mike just like Mike just bonded with you (strap ass while dick rams throat).” Wow! I want to protect my master, Mike, but can’t.
“Did you and Mike leave anything unfinished?” Extracts dick so I can answer.
“Sir! Yes, Sir! 10 strokes, I indicate which side of the strap just hit — holes (hold up right hand, circle thumb and fingers) or solids (hold up left hand flat). Right answer gets next stroke; wrong answer gets five strokes (right, wrong, right, wrong, right) plus that next stroke. Sir!” Dick back in.
“Turn your right hand over, palms up.” He holds the strap in front of my eyes, slaps my palm with the solid side. He repeats with the holes.
“An odd time to say this, but OUR sons” — He sees my look, my eyes open wide, buzzed eyebrows up, his dick down my throat — “Your sons and mine, Jamie and Luke, because the next dozen or so years (Chapter 13) they’ll maybe grow up more, learn more with you than they did with me in Jamie’s first 17 years and Luke’s first 18. Maybe they’ll end up in a better life. All the grief you’re taking gives both of them the opportunities they wouldn’t accept from me.” (We all extend our indentures to Hardwicke Co to 12 years for Luke to finish his high-school GED, graduate in architecture while Jamie finishes his GED and a couple community-college diplomas towards becoming a construction overseer — and they both train with me as drillers & blasters). His crotch and dick rise and take my face and neck along when he pulls himself, both heads, more erect.
“Our sons and I are VERY proud they belong to you, the way you live your manhood to express it, how you stay Strong Steve, how you accept whatever you have to take to keep them safe.” I try to smile. “And they say you make sure they brush their teeth every bedtime. Mohawk grandmother?” I nod, try to smile.
“We’ll do 10 sets but only three after wrong answer – right, wrong, right.”
Stroke 1 hits. I show solids, take hard holes to right hand then ass, then hard solid to left hand and ass, hard holes to right hand then ass.
“Do you feel the difference on your palms? Right hand up if yes, left hand if no.” I show left hand. “Okay, slave. No more hand targets — we need those slave paws in shape for log pt.”
“A couple strokes that don’t count toward the 10. One down each glute.” He was standing at my head, leaning over my back to swing the strap. Ouch! Ouch again! He says to feel the glutes he just hit. “Which one has bumps?” I point to the left one. “Right, stud! Remember how that hit felt.”
Stroke 2. Solid. “Right, boy.”
Stroke 3. Hole. “Wrong, boy.” Solid-holes-solid.
My butt’s so inflamed that everything feels, hits solid, even after the practice pair, so I eat maybe half a dozen holes-solid-holes butt sets.
He thrusts deeper while he leans n reaches to rub, massage the inflamed glutes and sore neck, to drag some knuckles through the traps n lats.
Stroke 10. Holes. “Right. boy.” Maybe even I can learn this.
Dick out. He walks around to my side of the table. Helps me stand crotch to crotch, hugs me, hands on hot glutes.
Quick slug from a water bottle, rinse mouth. He asks if I can talk. I nod. Chest down again onto table, Mr JL and his dick behind me against my hot ass, quick hot lube into hole and onto balls and dick. Quick ram into hole. He apologizes — I’m just his third male fuck after the two yesterday, which he tells me about — the “explain.”
“While you and Jon ran and bonded at noon yesterday and while Mr Hardwicke and Mr Whitmore asserted their ownership of Mike in y’all’s old bedroom (Chapter 12), Mr Kraus herded me and Mr DD into Jon’s office again. We turn, face the door, strip, set shoes and fold clothes next to door, stand facing door, legs hip width apart, hands behind head, get blindfolded, get wireless earbuds inserted. Mr Kraus says, ‘You’ll hear only my voice. You’ll take a couple dicks, which can be mine or the other man’s sons’, and you’ll put your dick down and up the other man’s sons. Your sons will cane you. This will help you learn how to cane Steve and how to cane y’all’s four sons to express your feelings about their ending up here as slaves and indentures plus practise for Steve. You’ll also experience some of their slave experiences. Please let us bend you over Jon’s desk.’”
“We feel something like a beach towel against our thighs. Then one hand goes behind the base of our skulls while another hand turns our chins up halfway, mine to the left, they say facing Mr DD, his to the right facing me.
“Mr Kraus says, ‘Breathe through your nose while one of the other man’s sons (or maybe me) shoves his dick into your mouth and towards your throat. Try not to gag and not to bite. Your job is to excite that dick — lots of stimuli, not just on the sensitive head but along the shaft too — lips plus tongue plus throat opening, maybe breathe on it when it’s not all the way back. One or two of YOUR sons will motivate your backside with a cane, as many strokes as it takes to prep your butt and the other man’s sons’ dicks.’ Then a dick goes into my mouth and I guess another into Mr DD’s. So this is what it feels like. The scene might turn on the dude with the dick, but for me and my throat. I prefer a woman’s tongue, not so far back. It certainly reinforces submission, makes me feel like a dominated slave. I guess this is how our sons want you to make them feel.”
“Mr Kraus continues, ‘This first cane stroke HITS TOO HARD!!!. (Too damn right!). The next stroke’s too easy (Fuck! He’s right!). And THIS ONE’s just right! (Damn! He’s right again. Weird!) Y’all aim for ‘just right’ when y’all practise on y’all’s sons and work on Steve.’”
“The cane stops and restarts when the throat dicks change with a couple shoulder rubs, knuckles into traps, lats. Hotlube after the cane, then a dick goes up my ass. The dick up my ass works what I didn’t know I had, then shoots. The other dude’s dick shoots down my throat. I guess I shot plus fragged — my first ever. Mr DD and Mr Kraus said later that they fragged too.”
“I need the break and the coffee before Jamie. Then Jamie lays himself over the desk for me to cane, still hearing Mr Kraus’s instructions In the earbuds and feeling Luke’s hands on my butt and knuckles into it. I feel my swings improve. Jamie responds too. They switch. It’s harder to cane Luke than Jamie, even with Jamie’s hands working my caned butt. He starts swatting my butt with each cane stroke. Luke gave me less grief, didn’t go out of his way to bug me.”
Then Mr JL surprises me again — “Back in WAH-oming, where I studied energy economics and sports psych at the university on a tennis scholarship, we’d say ‘Mike done busted you like a cowboy busts a stallion.’ The cowboy needs a stallion and chooses the dominant one, the alpha stallion, from the herd. After the stallion gets busted, he seems pleased to belong to the cowboy, acts more dominant, studlier with the other horses. Sometimes he grows his dick when he sees his cowboy, looks like he flexes his neck and front shoulders.”
Mr JL squeezes, rubs, digs, swats my hot ass. He rams in, works traps and lats, swats butt. He has to be crushing the balls I feel each time he thrusts. We both frag.
“But if Mike brings you an apple, duck, because like a cowboy he’ll have a steel bit for your tongue in his other hand.”
I have to ask, “Sir! Would you like me to get you hard again so you can fuck me face to face, my legs over your shoulders, our hands on each other’s chests, Sir?” He said this surprises him – the position and that I’d volunteer for another facefuck-strap. So tits to table again, his dick down my throat, his strap on my strapped ass. Then a more personal connection, me on my back, hotlubed dick back up my hotlubed hole, my strong shaped legs on his strong tennis-shaped shoulders, around his strong shaped neck, eye to eye, hands to shaped pecs n tits. Feel bonded. Better frag. Fuck! I get off getting fucked!
“Thanks, Stud! Know why we ask you to identify the solid or holes strap?” Me — “Sir! Body awareness, Sir?” Mr JL — “Right, Stud!”
“Now let’s chill that hot ass so it doesn’t get, look TOO ugly. Your blacksnaked back and chest and the strapped hands too.” He half supports me, half carries me into the trainer’s suite and a cold plunge. “Head, fingers, toes out. Zone on the dick you warmed up and my voice while I talk.”
The sports psych helps his work as an energy trader. He still coaches tennis on the side, brought Jamie and Luke up training and playing. Jamie could have earned a tennis scholarship and degree like his but fucked it away as a bike racer and courier, ended up at 17 in my gladiator cell (Chapter 12).
Mr JL learned to cane and to strap Jamie when he had to collect him and his bike from Slaves R Us after Jamie’d biked out to get bullwhipped the second time he got caught as a bike courier stealing from a receptionist (blacksnake starts at 18).
“Before the drive home I asked Jamie what I could do to impress him, maybe help him think first. He didn’t use my car, he went to bed early, worked early Monday to Friday, would rather bike than drive, raced and trained weekends, so I couldn’t ground a working courier, couldn’t ground a winning racer, couldn’t pull the car keys since he biked everywhere.”
“Jamie hung with the other flogged dudes while I bought the middle-weight cane we both hoped might stop him before any further trouble, since nothing else had worked. The shop said he’d ‘want’ a strap too to reinforce the cane’s work — and that I’d need to experience both first and then to practise them. My first time getting caned and strapped; until yesterday I thought it would be the last. I caned and strapped him, first time ever, when we got home. I ignored it when he maybe gestured for me to fuck him like I guess the alpha couriers did after they caned him. The next day, the couriers liked what the strap did to his butt so well that after his last delivery they made him bike back to “Slaves R Us” to buy one for them to use.
“He charged it to the team but they took it out of his weekly allowance. Most of his pay went into a fund for his education – a fund they expected they’d never have to pay because their semidelinquent young dudes mostly go off the rails rather than on to apprenticeships or college. We’ll try to get those bucks to help with his college or tech school tuition.”
So Mr JL knew about the two sides of the strap – holes in the rubber piece hurt more because they raise the bumps that the solids hit, and rubber around the holes stings because it moves the skin. Then the leather side with the hacksaw blade in it targets these miniwelts. The rubber side wraps the glute, makes it sting worse. The leather-hacksaw-blade side hits harder, flexes but doesn’t wrap. With leather side first you don’t really notice the rubber side landing.”
“The next time I got a call about Jamie’s work I used the cane and strap to, uh, intensify our talk. But 16-year-old Jamie worried more about the alpha couriers who were getting him into trouble — caning and fucking him too — so he moved in with them. Shortened his commute but cut the conversation, cut the relationship.”
A few months later, after the 17th birthday Mr JL managed to celebrate with Jamie in a rare overnight with him and 12-year-old brother Luke, a deputy sheriff he knew called to warn him to collect and sell Jamie before the county arrested and sold him. That got him to my gladiator stable and into the cell I shared with champion Mike because Mr JL told Jamie to stick we me. Mr JL remembered driving me back to the Marine barracks the day I got convicted, caned, and strapped at the Municipal Punishment Centre — when Jamie got strapped as the price of quitting school at 16 (Chapter 12). Seeing his 17-year-old big brother go down was so hard for 12-year-old Luke that he started the gangbanger track that led him to me as my 18-year-old indenture.
So Jamie provokes me because he wants me to master him, like Jon said in Chapter 14 and like (as?) Jamie almost said in Chapter 13 this morning, when Darren full-nelson-fucked me while Jamie worked my chest and tits with his lead-hand quirt.
Mr JL asks, “Am I bullying you? Picking on you? Abusing my position with you?”
Fuck! How do I answer this? “Sir! No, sir! You’re treating me the way an owner does a slave, Sir, especially with my shareholders’ agreement that lets you flog me for ‘attitude,’ fuck me for “services” too, just so it don’t interfere with my work, Sir!”
Mr JL makes a funny expression when he says, “I do wonder about treating a real war hero (silver star, two bronze stars, purple hearts — Chapter 12) like some delinquent slave.”
“Sir! I’m proud to do the jobs I signed up for — Recon Marine, gladiator slave, now construction stud warrior slave, Sir!”
Mr JL goes on, “You say you’ve not wanted to master Jamie, not just because he used the gladiator stable’s guards and slave prods to train you not to lay a finger on him, let alone dick IN him, but also because you don’t want to bully him, misuse your authority, abuse him. But you say it’s okay for me to use my position to strap you, face-fuck you, fuck you. So Jamie acts like a brat to provoke you. (Chapter13)”
“Master Jamie, Stud Steve, before he and I both master YOU again. Master nice kid Luke too.”
“Questions about your time in Tajikistan as a captive working on the young dudes’ crew before the warlord’s son scared you into running away so he could capture and enslave you (this afternoon’s Chapter 14 with lawyer Jon and Facetiming chief Khaled, who captured and enslaved me when I tried to escape after he had his dad talk about keeping me).
“You said that the bullwhipping when they recaptured you was your first, but you also said that on the young dudes’ crew you got bullwhipped when you and another dude raced up a cellphone tower like you and Darren did last Thursday (Chapter 6) and bullwhipped plus blacksnaked that night (Chapter 7). So how was getting flogged (Chapter 14) when you got captured your ‘first’?”
“Sir! I guess I meant my first bullwhipping as a slave, because my crew told me that getting worked in the mountains with a quirt and bullwhipped when I broke safety was how young dudes get worked. Getting captured, flogged, and enslaved scared me the way getting whipped on the dude’s crew didn’t because I didn’t know if I’d ever get back to the Marines.”
“One more thing, Steve. It sounds like Mike’s your first real friend, but that’s complicated, and you’ve never had someone you trust who you could talk with the way you can’t with Mike. Just a sounding board, not someone who can order you what to do or not do and punish you if you don’t or do. You know that Jon did a dual major in accounting and psych, but you probably didn’t know that besides me Boss Henry did a sports psych minor. You could talk with any of us, but I’m the one who’s not also a master. Boss Henry’s like a dad to lots of Hardwicke men. But because I’m just an owner, not a master, and I like you (not just to flog and fuck unless you want to), I’d like to be your brother. Any overseer or lead hand with a cell phone could help you call me any time.”
Mr JL helps me out of the cold soak, helps dry me, dries my butt enthusiastically. He adjusts his gladiator strap while I pull mine back on again. But before we head for bareass log PT we talk about my upcoming 30 days back at the gladiator stable, Phillips Fuckers & Fighters About the 30 days — We’re starting to become Steve’s Studs, Drillers & Blasters. Okay — compare Drill with Fuck, Blast with Fight.)
Mr JL – “Another question. Where does this ‘hard outdoor labour under the lash’ come from?”
“Sir! I guess from Jason, when I told him about my time as a captive in the mountains.”
“That 30 days back with Phillips — Mr DD and I negotiated with Phillips because we knew their manager from selling him my Jamie and Mr DD’s Darren. As you heard, they wanted to pay just that one month at the basic slave ‘wage’ because we’d get half the pay-per-view for your three bullwhippings (days 1, 15, and 30) and 10 fights (days 3, 6, and on to 30). We asked for 20 months pay for the 30 days, like the usual two months between the 10 fights.”
“Those three bullwhippings mattered more to them than you training their men to fight without headshots. They ‘recruit’ so cheaply from the county that a concussion ending a dude’s career and useful life doesn’t bother them. So we reminded them that their gladiators’ ticket sales, pays per view, and betting are all drying up as folks get bored with anonymous thugs punching each other’s lights out to end their careers in just one martial arts discipline — kickboxing like Darren did, wrestling like Jamie, and brawling like you and Mike.”
“We showed them the views, pay-per-views, and subscriptions that Steve’s Studs and Slave Steve’s Greatest Hits have already generated. And we offered them no-concussion matches with buff construction studs like ours in popular, money-making mixed martial arts or MMA Ultimate Fighting – the sport that sold before slavery made one-discipline gladiator recruits cheap for buyers, cheap enough to throw away as punchdrunk ex-gladiators. Selling new slaves earns the county money, they don’t have to pay to jail the dudes, and the supply never runs out.”
So Phillips will pay for the 15 months that my 40% makes the six months that they tried to steal when they didn’t tell me about the 10% amnesty on my five-year indenture. Back in my “Reluctant gladiator” prehistory on nifty.org/authoritarian, Attorney Jon, one of my masters now plus creator and trustee of my BVI trust that owns me and my men , and his wife Anne, my defence attorney, sprang me and Jamie from Phillips (Chapter 9). They’d had the stable’s top two (me n Mike) fight, then rented the winner (me) to impregnate Anne because her body rejected Jon’s fetuses (Chapter 11). “Our” son is developing nicely.
Gotta ask one more thing. “Sir! Am I a pain pig? Am I a blacksnake n ass-strap whore?”
He holds me n my glutes tight, rubs me easy. “No, stud. But you are an endorphin junkie — why you work and train so intensely, with such dedication, trying for perfection. Why Hardwickes had to make you the littlest big Dawg (Chapter 8) . Do you notice what you do when you get bored waiting around?”
“Sir? No, Sir.”
“You drop for one-arm pushups, quietly, like you don’t to be noticed. Remember doing that?”
“Sir! No, Sir, I don’t.” He smiles, swats my butt, both hands, pulls me tighter.
He goes on, “Taking the cane and strap and blacksnake, beating the man swinging at you, must generate endorphins like winning a match with another fighter. What you told the apprentices getting punished with y’all last Thursday (Chapter 7), let the man hurt you but don’t let him break you. Endorphin junkie fits your endurance training, running, climbing, holding pullups. I understand. For my tennis, I like to train and play past wanting to quit too.”
========================================
ABOUT JASON
Mr JL – “When Mr DD and I wrapped with Phillips about your 30 days there, they asked if we wanted Jason. They valued that ex-Marine corporal, like you but with a better lawyer after his first conviction for molesting teenagers he was supposed to coach. Jason was just a corporal with that major conviction; you were a sergeant who grabbed a woman’s wrist in a bar after she slapped you for something you said, then you fought off a trucker who picked you up hitching and tried to put your mouth over his dick while he drove. No using a position of trust to molest minors.”
“Jason had his lawyer sell him to your stable as an experienced NCO who understood fucked-up men like gladiators. He learned the gladiator business, got to know the other stables, helped with training and setting up matches, and kept y’all quiet enough not to bother the overseers.”
“Jamie said the men obeyed Jason but disliked and feared him, that he harrassed and raped them, and that Jason ragged you because you showed how much you resented him, but mostly because even worse than he ragged Jamie, Jason ragged you because he wanted to provoke you to master him.” Fuck! Any move on Jason would’ve got me flogged into dogfood.
“The stable managers didn’t mind him buggering their men – Jamie says ‘raping’ — but they had to get rid of Jason when he got three convictions for molesting kids on a soccer team he coached. He was giving the stable and its men a bad rep, even if some folks thought the convict gladiators deserved him.”
“Now Jason’s their slave because when an indenture commits an offense that would get him enslaved, the slave bureau just registers him to the indenture holder — why Boss Henry said his Alabama Crimson Tide like their football jocks indentured so when a jock fucks up they can get him a better situation than a county auction, like what brought Boss Henry here.”
“Anyway, the stable wants to sell Slave Jason because he’s making their matches even less popular. We owners think he could help our team — training, setting up matches, promoting our no-head-shots league. Training will make him y’all’s overseer, but only during training times. We know he’s a bully, but you four (me, Mike, Jamie, and Darren) can have fun shaping this VERY junior overseer up when he’s not overseeing your gladiating; y’all can make sure he doesn’t abuse his overseeing y’all’s training.”
“He gets the overseer’s bullwhip, cane, and the right to adjust attitudes with up to 12 strokes. But outside gladiator training, you captains are the team’s overseers, so y’all can adjust Jason by cane and bullwhip plus facefuck-strap. That’s no way gladiating, so he doesn’t have that.”
“And all y’all will top him at his gladiator challenge because he’ll score way less at each event (up to 12 strokes each plank for cane, low pushup for tawse, overhead or back pushup for quirt to pecs n tits, then balls n dick, finally hold pullup for front flogger, 12 pullups plus leg lifts for back bullwhip – end of Chapter 12). He’s out of shape, so when we compare his scores with each of y’all’s he’s y’all’s meat. So why don’t you want to vote your 40 shares to help buy Jason? Why take three dozen blacksnake lashes the first night?” The (other) owners need me to vote my 40 shares to make the ¾ approval, and they can persuade me by blacksnake (not bullwhip when they all agree). First day 36 lashes, 24 next, 18 third. (Chapter 12)
“Sir! Besides not wanting that prick as an overseer again, even just for gladiator training, maybe it’s honour that won’t let me let him near Jamie and Luke, Sir! And I need to show him and my men what I’ll do to protect them, how much I don’t want him, Sir?”
He says to think about it, talk with my men.
================
BAREASS LOG PT
Everybody wears a gladiator strap and steel-toe work boots. Us six gladiators, plus …
– the five Hardwicke dudes crew — the Bulgarian apprentices training with us, electrician Sparky and plumber Mario (Chapter 7, when they tapped a client’s single malt, got flogged with us), plus the two overseers training with us as punishment — Pete for him letting me n Darren race up a scaffold (Chapter 7) and senior overseer Boss Henry for missing a body-fat target (Chapter 10), and Ape, the former Mr Jackson, who ripped off the Ace Plumbing & Electrical (APE) that he managed (Chapter 7). No question massive Boss Henry and bodybuilding overseer Pete are up for log pt, and the Bulgarian apprentices say they got fed so many steroids they damn near glow in the dark. Ape will stand in the middle.
– The third crew is the five owners (Hardwicke Co’s Mr Hardwicke n Mr Whitmore, Jamie n Luke’s dad Mr JL, Darren n Demon’s dad Mr DD) plus lawyer Jon. Mr Hardwicke n Mr Whitmore were Army Airborne majors, so trained almost as intensely as my Recon Marines, but not their last 10 years here. My Mr Kraus was a captain in the Army Corps of Engineers at least that long ago, so he trained but less intensely than Airborne, may not remember log pt. Lawyer Jon was in the even less physical Judge Advocate General’s Corps, but he stays in shape rowing. Mr JL’s in shape from tennis, like I just learned after he called me ‘hotass.”
After we watch a demo video and discuss it, we all collect, jog to the lumber yard, and form three groups (gladiators, owners + Jon, two Hardwicke overseers + apprentices + Ape). Each group stands beside a peeled log about three metres or ten feet long lying on a pair foot-long 2”X4” sections. I say, “The only rule – move your body side to side and up or down the log so you keep your shoulder under the log; use both hands to hold it. No one man can move the log himself to keep in on his shoulder. We learn the teamwork so all five or six men move the log together. No quick moves.”
The groups form up tallest to shortest. Us gladiators take the left side of the middle log. 6’3” Mike and 6’1” Darren turn to face 6’ me; 5’11” Jamie, 5’10” Luke, n 5’9” Demon stand behind us. The other two teams turn sideways to watch us. I demo the moves to crouch back erect, wrap right hand under log, lay left hand over it opposite. The crew join me. DEEP breath. Lift log onto shoulder. Slowly straighten knees. Walk forward. Lift log overhead and lay it on left shoulder. Walk backward. Rotate 90 degrees left — I stay in place, Mike and Darren sidestep left, behind me Jamie and Luke sidestep right. Halt. Shift to right shoulder. Walk backwards to original position. Lift log overhead and set it down onto its 2”X4” blocks. Straighten up, breathe, congratulate each other.
Then the two other crews practise it, both angled so they can watch us do it again.
Meanwhile, the overseers and trainers are watching, seeing how they might uh, motivate or enhance our moves. Bullwhips work great on front and back dudes, and they try rib shots on us in the middle but too little muscle on the ribs and too hard to miss the armpits. Not room for quirts. They try tawses on middle ribcages and glutes. They seem happiest with slaveprods, but even toned down they damn near cause a couple drops. Us three target teams are less happy. We agree later that bullwhip’s best, hits a bigger area, don’t jolt like a prod. They say we’ll train together. Ouch!
I say, “Sirs! The log n our dudes along it motivate real thoroughly; we’re VERY aware. Y’all can see who’s slacking by who’s not straining. To fuck off, a dude would slide far enough forward to put his shoulder close to the log without bearing his share. Blast him with whatever. But “motivating” anybody just distracts him and the rest of us. Well, maybe bullwhip the first dude’s chest, the last dude’s back, butt, if we seem to relax, move too slow.”
“Sirs! There are 10 of y’all? Please form two lines with me in the middle of one, front dudes turn to face me. Maybe hand off a pair of bullwhips to Mr Harwdicke n Mr Whitmore, Boss Henry n Overseer Pete, to stand by. Some surprised noises, grumbles, threats that sound half-serious, but they do.
I tell both lines to practise the moves without a log, then my line to follow me to control and lift our log while the other line watches. Next up both lines. Congratulations all round. The trainers agree, slap my back, slap my back, slap my butt. Cooldown stretches.
MEN’S GLADIATOR CHALLENGE. I’M TRAINER, NOT TARGET.
Jog back to office-barracks building. Washroom. Coffee, snacks if we want them. The lounge or hall. The other slaves break from their training to watch plus two beers each.
Beers for us before gladiator challenge, but I pass, want to stay sharp. For the challenge, both crews, tops and targets, line up tallest first, left to right. Top 6’4”Boss Henry stands behind target 6’1” Darren, 6’3” Mike stands behind 5’11” Jamie, 6’2” Overseer Pete stands behind 5’10” Luke, 6’ me stands behind 5’9” Demon, 5’11” Mr Whitmore stands behind 5’9” apprentice plumber Mario, and 5’10” Mr Hardwicke stands behind 5’8” apprentice electrician Sparky. The targets switch to jock straps to frame the butt and leave it clear, like me n Mike figured out this morning in Chapter 13. The six tops for the five events mean I don’t have to do my more-or-less foster son Jamie.
That long, low platform rises. First event, low plank for cane. 12 strokes at 30 second intervals. Men down, plank toes to elbows. We stand on their left. Demon breathes hard, while I hear Luke to my left breathe steady. Ranging tap. Adjust my position and stance. Wind up. One! Hit high. Demon’s butt dents, twitches but stays in place. Two! Hit a couple centimetres lower. Demon shakes n his butt dents, twitches but stays in place. Breathe deep. Flex. Wind up. Three! Hit a couple centimetres lower. Trainers tawse the men to ‘help’ them hold position. The count builds while Demon’s butt twitches more, looks uglier. For six I land an angle, what Jason called a five-bar gate. For the next set, I hit a centimetre below the first ones. Demon shakes worse, breathes harder, swears louder each time, drops at around ten. I hear Luke carry on, catch his eye when he winks at me. One for my Luke. The men stand, stretch, roll, flex.
Next event, low pushup for tawse, touch tits or dick means lose. I grab a tawse from a trainer, move right to Mario’s butt for the first six. It seems easier to make an impression with the cane. He lasts for them plus four to the shoulders. I see Sparky going on for the full 12.
I grab a quirt, move right to Sparky for the back or overhead pushup. Sparky grins at me for the six quirt strokes to tits, then pulls his tackle over the waistband for six to balls n dick. He don’t grin but still outlasts Mario to about 10.
Move to head of line, flogger to hanging Darren. He takes the 12. So does Jamie to his right.
Move right to the fifth event (unless there’s a tie for someone else to blacksnake the pair).
To enjoy bullwhipping Jamie’s back while he does pullups, holds for the whip, I concentrate on how he’s tried to get me mad enough to master him. It works for me and for Jamie, who takes the dozen. I heard Darren drop sometime before. At the end, I grab Jamie, hug him tits to tits, crotch to crotch (a couple centimetres or an inch or so below mine), rub his back, congratulate him, ask how his other events have gone.
He grabs my two triceps, holds me at arm’s length, looks me in the eyes, says, “Sir! Please fuck me, Sir!”
I look around for an owner or overseer – rule’s no fucking except in private, certainly not in the lounge. Mr Whitmore, to my right, says “Go ahead. You two have earned it.” Like his dad, Mr JL, told me before log pt, Jamie’s been trying to provoke me even after he used the gladiator stable guards and their slaveprods to train me not to touch him.
So a standing full-nelson fuck, my first as fucking top since that day in Tajikistan when I held the warlord’s son for his slave initiation to the tribe and its young dudes crew (Chapter 14). First Luke pulls off my gladiator strap, hotlubes my surprised dick. Jamie’s partner, Darren, pulls off Jamie’s gladiator strap, grabs a quirt like Jamie used on my pecs n tits when Darren held n fucked their confused master (me) in Chapter 13, motivates my butt thrusts We all three frag.
Jamie catches my eye, says “Sir! I’ll take a whip with you, I’ll take a whip for you, I’ll take a whip from you, I’ll take a dick with you, I’ll take a dick for you, I’ll take a dick from you because I belong to you, Sir” The gladiator oath!
Everyone congratulates me, slaps back, slaps butt, twists tits.
COMPANY BAREASS SHIVAREE
The dudes except me n Mike head to claim the competition winners’ prizes. Mr Hardwicke asks, “Steve, does your backwoods French include ‘droit du seigneur?’”
“Sir, the right of the lord, Sir ?”
He grins. “Right, Stud! The right to do what?”
I’m stumped. Mike answers, “Sir! The right to, uh, sleep with the bride first, before the husband, Sir!”
Mr Hardwicke smiles, “Half right, stud. Bride plus husband. Both you two lose the glad straps.” We all walk to the training room and stand opposite the wall of one-way mirrors. Me n Mike face the mirrors on the opposite wall.
Fuck! I’m Boss Henry’s full-nelson fuck. He has to bend his knees — he’s 6’4” to my 6’. 6’3” Mike is 5’11’ Mr Whitmore’s, so Mike has to bend his knees. I ask Boss Henry if we should switch – he takes Mike, Mr Hardwicke takes me? Boss answers, “This is mastery, boy, not efficiency.” Boss is my master; Mr H n Mr W own n master Mike.
Pete’s in front of the mirror, facin us, flickin a quirt. Boss Henry says real proud, “What a beautiful man!”
I answer, “Boss, you n your Amy must feel real proud of Pete.” Pete’s the son of Boss Henry n his wife, Amy.
Boss answers, “Right, stud. Pete has most of Amy’s brains, most of my muscle. Fitness model, competitive body builder. Solid B+ average, high school and now tech school. High school all-conference quarterback, now the company’s. You know his overseeing, his flogging ability (he’s quirting my pecs n tits now). But if he pulls out a g’itar, git! But the beautiful man I’m talking about is you.”
He asks how I’m doing in this scene, says maybe I feel a little slack. He asks if I need the blacksnake now? Fuck! “Sir! Yes, Sir!” I hope this don’t make me a blacksnake whore, what Mr JL says I’m not. He says I’m an endorphin junkie, and this scene REALLY fires endorphins plus adrenaline.
I feel Boss’s head nod to Pete. “Plan B, Pete.” Pete takes his blacksnake. Don’t know how many. Dick n I flex taller, Boss’s dick flexes taller too. Frag!
We disengage, hug, work my pecs, back, glutes. Wipe down. Don’t know how Mike did, but me n him split a beer.
Boss says, “I can’t keep the men from uh, asserting on your chest and back (bullwhip), ass (cane) and hole (dick). But I can give you the deal Mr Hardwicke’s granddad gave me when they bought me from Amy’s dad. As I told you Saturday night (Chapter 10), the Crimson Tide liked its off-season jocks indentured in case we fucked up because then we’d get enslaved to the indenture holders for a deal like mine with Hardwickes, not the county and its auctions. I was indentured to Amy’s dad’s lumber yard when we had the party before us two indentures go to summer football training while two Army ROTC (officer trainees) finished their summer training and replaced us.
“My deal with the senior Mr Hardwicke was, a man asserting his authority has to beat me in fitness challenges that I choose – one, two of up to three, or three of up to five . A man I fancy, maybe let him win arm-wrestling or pushups or pullups. Four obvious challenges — pushups, pullups, dips, overhead or back pushups. For a fifth, obvious burpees or, better, plyometric jumps onto and off a platform. But I preferred handstand pushups.”
“Pete, demo three. Jamie, help hold up his legs.” Pete goes to a handstand, Jamie circles his arms around Pete’s legs. Jamie counts one, two, three. Pete flips to standing.
Boss nods at me n Luke. I hold a handstand, Luke circles my legs loosely. Boss says, “Go.” After three my arms n shoulders wanna quit, but I manage maybe half a dozen. Pete grins, cranks a couple more.
Pete says I’ll be busy tonight, so he’ll claim me at a time that suits Mike.
TEAM SHIVAREE
When the bosses turn me n Mike loose, we kinda stagger towards each other, hug, first KISS! We head to the washroom (what Marines call the head), brush our teeth, mostly cold shower, dry each other, grab gladiator straps but don’t put them in. At our cell door, I hold mine and Mike’s in my teeth and reach for the door handle while Mike picks me up, flexes my shoulder chip to the reader.
We don’t see nothin after the door opens. I don’t remember much neither. Gladiator strap goes around my eyes. Some dude takes me from Mike or grabs me after he starts to drop me. Noise-cancelling earbuds, like Mr JL described. I’m stood up with one handcuff loop around my balls. The other must go around Mike’s because he’s standin close enough to me for me to feel his chest, his balls n dick, and his thighs against mine.
We get shuffled to maybe the middle of the cell. Jamie through the earbuds — “Please excuse us, Sirs, while we adjust y’all’s attitudes. Hug each other’s necks.” Fuckin bullwhip! My dude hits WAY too hard, worries me about skin breakin, staggers me, but Mike held on. Weird, but the next lash, next 11 feel ‘right.’ Mike feels like his dude’s whippin well too. How’d they learn? Pete? Me n Mike rub pecs, tits, dicks. Don’t try to kiss — that three inches taller’n me. We frag together.
Jamie says, “Arms hang loose.” Mine do. Hotlube on my pecs n tits, on my balls n dick, in my hole. Dude a little shorter than me pulls me into a full-nelson fuck. Has to be Jamie because Darren will do Mike — their legs are the same length as mine, and both their dicks line up with my hole so with each other’s. I bend my knees just enough.
This time Jamie growls, “Y’all don’t talk unless you two want to kneel together for dicks down y’all’s throats, n that wouldn’t feel good with the handcuffs.”
I concentrate on the full-nelson fuck, my naked chest in a muscle sandwich between Jamie n Mike, Jamie works both our bodies and his dick. I try my arms around Jamie’s neck. Around his low back, on his butt feels easier on my shoulders. I feel his glutes work. Fuck! He feels n fucks good too.
Jamie says, “Y’all thank Overseer Pete for the handcuffs, earbuds, bullwhip training.” How would I have noticed random bullwhip tracks on my dudes among the evidence of all the other action?
Cuffs, gladstrap blindfolds off. Jamie says, “Y’all lick y’all’s spunk off each other.” We do. Luke collects the earbuds while Demon coils our bullwhips n hangs ‘em on their hooks. We all hug, swat backs, swat butts. Our four dudes congratulate us masters on our wedding, wish us a good night, leave.
Mike collects me outside the open cell door, picks me up, carries me through it, shoulders it shut, drops to one knee to drop me on my left side on the futon, his left arm under me, his left hand to my tits. His arms n legs wrap me, his dick drives in n out of my still-lubed hole. We shoot, no frag, crash. 06:00 comes WAY too early.