Reluctant Gladiator

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

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

It was tough getting out of the arena and into the showers - my whole body was throbbing and aching where Mike's punches and body blows and shoulder charges had really hurt me. And at one level I was depressed, depressed and angry at myself for having humiliated Mike like that - I knew it would be bad enough for him no longer to be Champion, but to have been raped my me as well would be terrible for him. But at another level, I as elated: I was the Champion, the best amongst the best. And my cock tingled and sent exotic messages to my brain as I remembered how good it had felt to fuck a hard, tight ass, and how totally exhilarating it had been when I'd knelt there with my head back giving my shout of primeval triumph as I finished shooting into him. And I revelled in the salty taste of his body where I'd sunk my teeth into his shoulder, to mark him as mine. There was some part of me that was still acting like a civilised man, though - a part of me that said I had no choice, that I needed to fulfil my pledge to myself to get Jamie out of this place; and a part of me that told me that I'd never have raped Mike had it not been for the drugs. The brain isn't that easily fooled, though, is it? Even as I was rationalising away what I'd done, there was a tiny voice in there, arguing that I'd actually enjoyed the rape, that I wanted to do I again and again, that I wanted to fuck Mike over and over.

After a hard fight they don't actually make you shower - there's a deep bath filled with hot water and you ease yourself into it and lie there letting the heat take out some of the pain and soreness. You take a shower first, to wash off the worst of the blood and sweat, but then you inch your body down into the deep hot water and lie there for as long as you like. There's a whirlpool feature, too, so you can have bubbles caressing your body, and I turned this on for a bit, feeling them bubble up between my thighs and exciting my dick and balls. I began to worry then, as traditionally all the gladiators who have fought share the same bath (well two baths, actually - one for "them" and one for "us") - so was Mike going to appear? I didn't know what I was going to say to him, didn't know how we'd even start talking. Perhaps we'd have another fight - I thought it was not unlikely that Mike would be unable to stop himself launching himself at me, and then we'd both be tasered. On the other hand, as we had fought, perhaps he was in the "away team" bath, so I could relax. But I could only relax for a little, as sooner or later that night we'd be together in our room, and then what?

All these thoughts were interrupted when the door opened and the young gladiator who had held the collar came in. He stood there on the edge of the bath looking really nervous, and I glared at him - but I did feel a bit guilty, as I could see where one side of his face was all swollen and red from my blow, and I think I could also see quite large bruises forming where he'd fallen to the ground after it. I continued to stare at him until finally he said "Steve, is it OK to get in with you?"

Look, the bath is a treat, right? It's reserved for gladiators who have fought - as I've said, we shower normally. So he had no right even to ask. But I did feel guilty, so I nodded, and said "Suit yourself."

The kid gave a faint smile, then eased himself into the hot water, and came and semi-sprawled beside me, allowing the bubbles and the water to half-float his body. I saw his dick above the surface, and he saw me looking at it. He moved closer to me, so that our bodies were touching - quite unnecessary, as the bath's designed to take at least eight gladiators, and there's plenty of room. Even through the heat of the water I could feel his body heat as our skins touched. Finally he spoke. "That was an ace fuck, Steve! You really gave it to him...."

I half floated there silently. He was right, of course. It was pretty fantastic, even though I say so myself. "Listen, you little runt...." I turned to him as I said this, and gripped his chin with one hand, forcing him to look at me. "Don't you ever do that again. Don't you ever take advantage of a fallen gladiator like that."

"He deserved it...", he managed to splutter. "He's a real bastard to us young guys. Always slapping and punching us if we even upset him trivially..."

"You don't fuck a guy! OK?"

"You did." he managed to splutter, and somehow I was so surprised I let go of his chin. "You did, Steve. So what's wrong with fucking guys?"

"Gladiators are real men. When we fuck, we fuck bitches."

"It's OK for you and Mike and the other top guys. You win lots of bouts. You make prize money. You can afford the bitches. But for us who are new to this - we get horny too, you know. Most of us fool around with each other...."

I was going to tell him that it was wrong, then of course that little voice of conscience inside me started up, and asked me what it was that Mike and I did together most nights. It was a bit hypocritical of me to start telling this kid that going with his buddies was wrong, when that's what Mike and I did. Well, not fucking, but jerking each other off, and enjoying the feel of each others bodies. It was only a matter of degree, after all, I suppose. So I nodded in sort of agreement, and said "Well only do it when the other guy agrees. What you did to Mike was wrong."

The kid nodded. "Yes, OK. But he's got a great ass, hasn't he? I've never fucked a guy with a really big muscular butt like that before...."

He spoke as if I had, and somehow my male pride didn't like to tell him that it was a first for me, and that I had no real standards of comparison. As I was about to say something, though, I saw that his dick was stiffening, rising from the water as he floated there like a periscope. And then I realised that mine was, too.

"Fuck me, Steve", he said quietly. "I'd really like you to. You said it was OK if the other guy agreed, and I'd really like that dick of yours in me."

"Hell no, I'm exhausted...." I tried to find some excuse as I wasn't sure I really wanted to do it.

"A man like you? Exhausted? I knew it was a tough fight, but you fucked Mike vigorously enough. What's the matter? Afraid you can't get it up again so soon? I guess you older guys...."

He never finished, as I don't let punk kids even begin to think I might be afraid of anything. I simply pushed his head down under the water, and then watched as his hands frantically scrabbled at the sides and his legs kicked and thrashed uselessly as he tried to escape. I let him struggle for a few seconds, enough time for him to begin to panic and realise that he was totally under my control and I could easily drown him, then allowed him to surface. He stood there, spluttering and coughing the water out of his throat, and looking really angry. "You...", he began, but stopped instantly when I moved towards him and he could see that I could easily push him under again.

"Listen, kid, don't ever accuse a gladiator of not being ready for sex. The reason I'm not going to fuck you is that my body aches, OK?"

"So can I suck your dick, Steve? Please?"

I thought about it. The kid was eager and wanted to do it, so where's the harm? But then I was sill recovering from the excitement of fucking Mike, and it seemed to me that allowing a guy to suck me now would really make me seem like a fag. So I told him no, but then, a few seconds later as we lay there, his hand reached out and began to stroke my dick as it poked above the water. I was going to stop him, but it did feel good - as you know, Mike and I jerked each other off, but, I have to say, Mike was a bit coarse about it: quite apart from the fact that his hands (like mine) had ridges of hard, tough skin, he was a bit rough and did me quickly. The kid's hand were softer, though - he hadn't been in training long - and he was taking his time, sliding is fingers up and down my shaft, then teasing the flange around my dick head. So I let him do it, and as I lay there in the hot water, I began to relax and enormous feelings of sensuality swept over me.

I was getting near to shooting when the kid stopped, and turned his head to me and started to kiss me! I opened my mouth with the sheer unexpectedness of it, and his tongue darted in, and I simply couldn't help responding - soon my own tongue was thrusting deep into his mouth and I was biting his bottom lip, and my hand went around the back of his head so that he couldn't escape. His hand began to stroke my dick again and I wanted to respond - no, I needed to respond - and my own hand scrabbled around to find his dick and began to caress it in turn.

We must have been at it for at least two or three minutes when we broke off "for air" so to speak. "Fuck me, Steve", he whispered. "Please."

Well, what could I do? I was so amazingly aroused, and my dick was throbbing with the strain of being so erect. I was going to say no, when the kid hauled himself out onto the edge of the bath, and I saw his lithe body as it moved, with his dick jutting right up towards his navel - it truly was very appealing. He knelt there then and put his hand out to help me get out, and somehow I was locked in to doing it. I climbed out and we stood for a few moments, our bodies rubbing against each other as we kissed again and my hands ran up and down his back, feeling the sharp edges of his spine, and then the muscular tenderness of his butt, as our dicks rubbed together and the kid's hands somehow slipped between us and began to play with my nips.

The kid seemed very experienced at this, as he broke off, then went and got a couple of towels and laid them out on the paving around the pool. "Come on", he whispered at me. "Let's fuck, Steve."

Something stopped me. I wasn't going to do this fag thing. So I managed to say "No, I ache too much from the fight...."

The kid smiled at me, put his hands on my shoulders and gently pushed me down onto the towels, so that ultimately I was lying there on my back. I suppose I must have wanted to do it, even though I wouldn't admit it to myself, as there's no way the kid could have forced me to lie down. "Don't worry about your muscles, Steve", he whispered again, "I'll do all the work...."

He knelt beside me and stroked my dick a few times so that I was again totally, rampantly hard. Then he straddled me, and lowered himself down towards me. He leaned forward and began kissing me again and of course I responded, but then I felt his hand on m dick once more and the next moment I almost shouted with shock and surprise - he was gently moving my dick up and down his ass crack: I could feel his warm moist skin against my dick, and there was a flood of intense sensation through me which I thought couldn't get better. But it could - he stopped moving me, and there was a rough, moist, warm sensation from the very tip of my dick - he'd positioned me at his asshole, and was now gently moving my dick around it. I wanted to cry out with the sheer enjoyment of it all, but his tongue was in my mouth again and I was responding with the thrust of my own tongue. Then he lowered himself, very gently, still gripping the shaft of my dick, and I felt my dick push its way in through his sphincter.

Well, what can I tell you? He began to raise and lower himself very slowly, looking down at me as he balanced above me. He was smiling, as if my dick was causing him as much enjoyment as his ass was causing me. He began to move more quickly, and as he bounced up and down I could see small drops of pre-cum shooting out of his dick as it bobbed up and down, mostly landing on my belly and chest. I couldn't help it - I'm not a passive sort of guy, as you know, and almost to my surprise I found myself thrusting upwards as he rode me, thrusting upwards with increasing vigour as our fucking got more and more intense and passionate. It was incredible - this kid riding me like that, just as so many bitches had ridden me in the past. I reached out and ran my hands up and down his thighs as he worked away, enjoying the feel of his muscles moving under the skin - hard, strong muscles, not like a lot of the bitches. And somehow it was all so much better - his ass was gripping my dick so tightly, his body felt so good against mine, and every now and then he'd pause a little, lean forwards, and thrust his tongue into my mouth again, and play with my nips.

I could hardly bear it. I was so close to shooting, and yet I wanted it to go on and on. I thrust upwards, and I could hear myself moaning with the excitement and enjoyment of it all. I was about to shoot, I knew, but then there was a bang as the door was thrown open and Jason roared "Stop that! Stop it at once!"

The kid stopped instantly as Jason advanced towards us, then almost cowered as Jason slapped him, grabbed his arm and hauled him up off me. I lay there, my dick rapidly deflating. Jason stared down at me with a sneer on his face. "Get up, fag boy! You've got work to do."

"I'm not a fag!", I shouted as I scrambled to my feet.

"Ha fucking ha, Steve! You fucked Mike, and now you're fucking this kid. How could I possibly have thought that you're a fag?"

"Jason, you know I had to fuck Mike. You made me... The drugs...."

"Oh, and did I make you fuck this kid, too?" Jason sneered again as he said this, then went on "But it doesn't matter, anyway - as long as you do as you're commanded, I don't care whether you're a fag or not. But I can't have you fucking this kid now - you're going to need all the energy you've got for a little job we've got lined up for you: not only all your energy, but all your cum! I suppose a stud like you has recovered already from fucking Mike, but even you have limits, and I don't want you draining yourself into this kid now."

Jason turned to the kid who was standing there, still erect, and snapped "Rub Steve down, and quickly! He's got work to do. And make sure his dick is clean, as it's now been in your ass...", so I had to stand there enduring the kid's hands all over me as he towelled me dry, then knelt in front of me and slathered m dick with his spit and licked at me with his tongue, before gently towelling it dry too. I couldn't help it, I really couldn't - his tongue had aroused me again, and my dick was now jutting proudly out once more. I hated it, having Jason see me like that, knowing that he thought I was a fag, and now perhaps confirming his impression by becoming hard as the kid had licked at me.

Jason went over to a locker and opened it, then threw me a pair of sweat pants, and a loose "muscle" T-shirt, which he told me to put on, followed by a pair of those flip-flop sandals in leather - I used to hate that kind of thing when I was a a free man as I didn't like the feel of the thong between my toes, and now it all felt so strange - having anything on my feet at all, wearing a T (I suppose I'd not had anything on my top in all the time I'd been there), and the way the sweat pants scraped against the hairs on my legs (which had always been bare in my normal uniform). Then as I moved, there was a strange absence of feeling - I guess I'd got used to the sensation of the edge of my uniform across my butt muscles, and now the sweat pants were kind of all over me.

Jason told the kid to fetch a collar, then ordered me to kneel. As we waited for the kid to come back Jason stared down at me. "Now listen, Steve, and listen well: some of the folk at the contest took a fancy to you, so you're being hired out for the night. You're going to get a chance to put into practice some of the things you're supposed to be good at - in particular, pleasuring a woman, as it's a woman who's hired you! I suppose a fag like you can still manage that, can you?"

"I'm not a fag! I told you that...."

"Good. Because if there are any complaints tomorrow, I'll take the punishment cane to you. And the taser. Is that clear?"

"No bitch has ever complained about what I can do...."

"Change that attitude, Steve! This is no bitch who you and Mike paid to please you! This lady has hired you for her enjoyment, and you'd better pay proper attention to what she wants: none of your fast, furious fucking: she'll probably want long, slow, sensual love making. You might not even get to cum - a lot of women don't like semen all over them! Just make sure that you use your fingers, tongue, lips.... Make sure she has a really good time, or else you'll be suffering tomorrow, really suffering."

I was going to tell him to fuck off, that I knew how to please a bitch, when the kid came back in and handed Jason a collar - Jason put it around my neck, and it felt damp, and he smiled at me. "Poetic justice, Steve! This is the collar Mike wore when you fucked him. And now you're going to wear it as the lady plays with you. Come on - get your arms up, so I can fasten your wrists to it.

I hated it, but what was the point in disobeying him? He had his taser, and even if I was prepared to take the punishment from that, there was no ultimate escape for me, was there? I couldn't really get out of the building with all the guards around, and even if I did, with no money or anything how far would I get before the police captured me and I was returned for even more punishment? That's the problem with being a slave: the whole system is against you, and you are effectively powerless and really do have to obey your owner.

Jason led me out from the "gladiator" part of the complex and through into the "visitors" part. In the reception area there was a couple - about my age, I guess - expensively dressed and sitting at ease on the couches. They got to their feet as Jason took me over to them, and he said "Here he is, then. All neatly under restraint, which I'd advise you to keep in place - it may be a little uncomfortable for him, but he's used to discomfort and pain and anyway he's a slave, so don't worry too much. Just remember that under the terms of the hire contract you must do no permanent damage to him, and have him back here by noon tomorrow. There's no need to feed him - he can go without food until then - but keep him properly watered: one of those squeeze bottles will make it easier with his hands behind his neck like that he can't hold a cup."

"When you said 'no damage'...?" The woman asked.

"Nothing permanent. You may not cut him, or break any of his limbs, or pull his testicles so hard that you rupture him, or anything like that. But it's perfectly all right to inflict punishment on him if he's not performing properly for you - a cane, a tawse, something like that." He smiled his evil smile and went on "And of course if causing a man a bit of pain is what turns you on, then you can cane him and tawse him even if he's not misbehaving. Probably a whip would be too extreme as, if I may so, you do not look like an expert in that, and only an expert can really whip a man without breaking the skin.... And that would be 'damage'."

"So how do we control him?"

"Generally, by using his body. Even a tough fighter like Steve here does not like pain in his testicles, so take a firm grip on them and squeeze. Or twist his ears. Or take a firm hold on his nipples and twist them."

The woman looked at Jason. "That all seems very physical..."

"Yes, indeed. But you need to remember that Steve's a slave, and slaves get used to a certain amount of physical punishment. And as a gladiator, he's got a high pain tolerance, so don't hesitate to be more vigorous than you might expect to be - I'd recommend applying whatever you do until he actually screams. Steve's generally a nice guy, but he needs firm instruction backed up by the threat of punishment, or by punishment itself if he fails to obey or fails to satisfy completely."

I hated listening to this, hated having m freedom even more eroded by all this talk of control, punishment, and pain. But what could I do?

The woman nodded. "And there's no limit on what we can use him for? I mean.... Sexually...?"

"Indeed not, madam. Steve is fully experienced with the ladies. And whatever you want, you can have. And, as I said, at the first sign of anything which displeases you....", Jason stopped for a moment and gave another small sneering smile "... Or if he fails to please you enough, or isn't sufficiently enthusiastic, you can punish him."

The woman gave a small, almost nervous, smile. "I'm concerned about this 'control', though. I'm not very physical.... And if he disobeys, or even gets violent...."

I relaxed as I heard this. At least it seemed that that I was going to have sex with her, and she was a good-looker, one I might have chosen for myself, had I had a choice.

"Let me reassure you", Jason cut in. "Steve's not a violent person by nature - he had to be trained to be a gladiator. And he has a respect for women. I don't think you'll have any problems at all. But, just in case...."

He ordered me to stand one leg and raise the other, then, as I wobbled awkwardly there in front of him, he pushed up the leg of my sweat pants a little, fished around in his pocket, then fastened something around my ankle. He told me to stand properly again, and handed a small black rectangular thing to the woman. "Here - this is a radio controller. It's linked to the ankle bracelet I've fixed on him. There are three buttons on it, as you can see - press the middle one."

The woman looked at the box, then tentatively pressed something - and I jumped up and down, howling with surprise, and pain.

"It's a variation on the taser technology we use to control all the gladiators, and many slave owners use for their slaves. And you will see, the middle button is enough to cause Steve considerable discomfort. I'd recommend it if he's in any way disrespectful, or disobedient. The third button is only for use in an emergency - if you press it, the bracelet will give him such a dose that he'll be knocked unconscious."

"...and the first button?"

"Ah well, madam, that's the interesting one! You might want to keep the little box by you, close to hand... The first button is sufficient to 'get his attention', so to speak. Not enough to hurt him seriously, but enough to make him focus on what he's doing, to redouble his efforts... It's the button you might use to ensure Steve gives total satisfaction..."

The woman stared at it. "I see. I understand the necessity for controlling a big man like this one, especially a slave... But it seems a little cruel...."

"Perhaps it will help if you think of Steve here as an animal, rather than as a man. An animal needs controlling - it needs firm discipline, to be understand that it needs to obey. If you keep that in mind, I'm sure you'll have no problems in using the controller if necessary."

The woman nodded, and turned to her companion. "Come on then, Jon."

"You're sure, Anne? Really sure...."

"Yes. We agreed. Now, let's get on with it."

She turned and said quite quietly to me "Come on then, Steve. Follow us to the car. I don't want to have to use this little box on you, but be sure I will if it's justified. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." - they teach you to be polite to ladies in the marines, and I guess I never lost the habit.

She smiled. "I can see we're going to get on well, Steve. Now, as I said, follow us...." She opened her bag, rummaged around in it, then tossed a bunch of keys at her companion. "Fetch the car to the front door, Jon. We may a swell load Steve in whilst this guard here is still with us, in case there's trouble. Although I suspect there won't be."

I saw Jason wince as she referred to him as "this guard" rather than give him his proper status as head trainer, and smiled inwardly. Then I followed them to the door

They must have been rich, really rich, as they had a very big, glossy, foreign-looking car: quite apart from the import cost, the taxes on running such a huge thing must have been enormous. The man got out from the driver's seat and came and opened the back door, and I had to struggle to get my big body inside. The woman leaned over and fastened my safety belt around me, and as she leaned over me her tits rubbed against me and I go a scent of her perfume - my dick began to stir in my sweat pants, and I hoped she hadn't noticed!

The man drove confidently, and exactly at the speed limit, as far as I could tell - he could easily have gone a lot faster, but seemed to be content to sit in the inside lane with other stuff whizzing illegally past. I was amazed at how much the city seemed to have changed in the five years I'd been in Phillips' Fighters - when we went to another school, we were confined in the back of a van as I've told you, and therefore didn't have much of a view, but now I could see there were lots of new office and apartment towers. I turned as best I cold to look back at Phillips' Fighters, and saw workmen - or were they slaves? - clambering around on a scaffolding at the front. They were replacing the "Phillips' Fighters" with a new one which had three words on it - Phillips', Fighters, and Fuckers. Was the school being re-titled "Phillips' Fucking Fighters", or "Fucking Phillips' Fighters", or even "Phillips' Fighters Fucking", I wondered. The future didn't look all that bright - I reckoned a whole lot of the contests from now on would involve us gladiators in having to fuck, or be fucked, at the end.

We ultimately drove down a ramp underneath a glossy-looking new apartment building, and into a parking garage. The guy helped me out of the car - his grip was firm and confident on me - and all three of us took an elevator: they needed a key, I noticed, to make it respond to the "penthouse" button. There was a small lobby, then the guy opened the wide doors opposite, and we went it: it was stunning! A huge room, with floor to ceiling windows on three sides looking out on to the city far, far below. The lights were coming on, and I could see the streams of traffic on the roads heading home.

"Welcome to our home, Steve", the woman said. She saw me looking at the view, and added "Spectacular, isn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am. It sure is."

"I think you'd better call me Anne, Steve. And this is Jon. After all, we're going to be doing some pretty intimate things together, and using ma'am and sir would be silly".

As she spoke the guy came towards me with his hand out, saying "Hi....". He stopped, embarrassed at seeing that I couldn't shake his hand with my wrists cuffed behind my neck.

He looked at the woman. "Darling, I think we should untie Steve's wrists. It can't be comfortable for him. And this whole thing is going to be awkward enough, without having him not able to move properly...."

The woman looked at me with a question in her eyes. "Can we trust you, Steve? Jon's right about it being awkward, and I don't like to see a man tied up. So shall we untie your wrists?" I started to nod eagerly and reply, but she went on "You do realise, of course, that it then puts a whole lot of responsibility on you to behave properly? With you tied up like that, we can more or less do what we want with you and you're not responsible for it, you simply have tot take it. But with you untied, you're responsible for your own actions - and it will be you who will be responsible if I have to use this little box thing to punish you. Can you do it, Steve? Can you take responsibility like that, or shall we just go ahead with you tied up, and with you not having to decide anything?"

"Please untie me, ma'am... Anne. I understand all about responsibility...."

"You're a slave, though!", the man cut in.

"Yes, sir... Jon. But I wasn't always. I was a marine, I was used to taking decisions when we were in action. And as a gladiator... Well, you may not think so, but there's a lot of personal responsibility... You can't fight well without being in control of yourself."

"...and you do fight well, as we've seen", Jon added. "So bend down, and let me set you free."

For the second time then I was on my knees in front of another guy. And unlike Jason, who'd been relatively rough as he tied my wrists and buckled the collar, Jon was much more caring and gentle. And I couldn't help notice that the outline of his cock through his expensive looking pants got more and more pronounced as he worked away. Then, once my wrists were free and he'd unbuckled the collar, he actually reached down to give me a hand to help me get to my feet. I sprang up of course, using my body as I was used to doing, but I smiled at him as he retreated a little with the unexpectedness of my movement. "Thanks", I added.

"Perhaps Steve would like a beer, or something, darling?" The woman asked. "I know you men like a drink beforehand..."

Fuck me! Would I like a beer? Would I just! Alcohol was absolutely forbidden at Phillips' Fighters, and I hadn't had a cold beer down my throat for almost five years.

"Yes, please!", I almost shouted.

"Beer, or wine, or scotch...?", Jon asked me.

"A beer, please! Anything! I haven't had one for five years!"

Jon went to the wall with the door through which we'd entered, opened a cupboard concealing a fridge, and came back with two cans - one for him and one for me - and a glass of wine for Anne. She gestured at one of the luxurious leather couches in front of one of the windows, and we all sat down, with me in the middle of them. The beer felt so good, and I drained almost half the can with my first swallow!

"Darling, I think you ought to explain to Steve why he's here", Anne said to Jon. "It's hard for you, I know... But we need to be honest, and I'd like you to tell him, in your own words."

Jon took a swallow of his beer, then, as if to postpone things, got up, went to the fridge, and came back with another can for me. I drained my first one, and snapped open the second. Jon sat and took a big swallow of his beer, then began slowly "It's like this, Steve. As you can see, Anne and I have got everything - money, a nice place, good jobs we both enjoy, a lot of friends... But there's one thing we do want, and we can't have: a child." He stopped, looking very embarrassed, and then his voice went even lower as the words stumbled out "It's my fault. We've had all the tests. Anne's perfectly fertile. But although I perform physically in every way, I've got a problem - I shoot blanks. They say it was some sort of infection when I was a kid that the doctors failed to spot. But I can't father a kid. Not ever."

He stopped again, and I thought I could see tears forming in his eyes. "I'm a man in every other way, but I shoot blanks...."

I felt so sorry for him, and was really impressed that he could tell a stranger such an intimate secret, something that really played to his life as a man. Almost by reflex I reached out an arm and put it around his shoulders. "It's OK, Jon. Shit happens...."

"Thanks, Steve. Well, as I said, we want a child. We thought about adoption, but we want Anne's heritage, at least. Then we thought about artificial insemination...."

"But we wanted the child to be conceived naturally.", Anne cut in. "Look, Steve, let's cut to the chase. I don't want doctors poking around with turkey basters. I love Jon, very much, but he can't do it, as he's told you. So we decided to use the services of another man. We thought about all our friends, but I could hardly ask one of them, and Jon wouldn't want the whole world to know.... Then when we came to your fight today we got the 'sell' from that odious Jason about how gladiators were available for private hire, not only for a fight, but for sexual services. He was leering and winking at us women in the group, as he said how you were trained to specially please the ladies - it was disgusting."

"Yes...", Jon added. "But it gave us an idea. You see we've been thinking about this for a long time, but somehow nothing ever got done. And it's a good time of the month for Anne.... So we decided to hire the winner of the fight. But not for 'pleasure' as that Jason said, but for real."

"A gladiator has got all the things we're looking for as heritage for a child", Anne interrupted. "Brave, physically superb.... And a champion must have a lot of common sense and native intelligence, even if you don't have the right sort of degrees or anything. So you were a very good choice."

"...and Anne negotiated them down to a very keen price." Jon sounded so proud of her as he said this. "..not that the money's important of course, but people like that Jason don't deserve to have it all that easy!"

"I see.... So I'm going to father your child?"

"Yes, Steve". Anne smiled at me in a kind of encouraging way. "We were thinking of using the young gladiator - the boy they'd shaved who held the collar - I mean, a young kid like that is at the height of his powers in terms of sperm production, and he looked as if he'd be easy to control. But then we saw him fuck the loser, and we decided that he was probably a fag."

"You saw me fuck Mike - the loser - though."

"Ah yes, Steve. But you had to, didn't you? We asked afterwards, and apparently you have quite a reputation - you and that Mike - for hiring women with your winnings. So we felt you knew what to do, knew what was expected...." As she said this, Anne's hand slid under the hem of my T, and up over my belly, fondling and almost playing with the hairs on my trail and my chest. It rested on my right tit, and she started to rub it gently.

I knew I was responding, my nips getting hard, and my dick was stirring in my sweat pants. "See...?", Anne said, continuing to smile at me. "I'm not wrong, am I?"

Well I wasn't sure. Of course I'd fucked women, lots of them., But after Mike, and the kid, I was no longer certain that that's what I really liked. Still, here we were, and I moved my arm from Jon's shoulders, turned to Anne, cupped her chin with one hand and kissed her, at the same time sliding my other hand to start to cup her tits and play with them.

I was surprised - it wasn't as good as I knew it could be. Look, she was a good looking woman, just the kind I usually went for. And she was in good shape, too - no fat or anything like that. And she was keen to work with me, she wanted me, I could sense that. But it wasn't working all that well for me - I'd got used to the vigorous kissing that a man can do, and now it was just me thrusting away with my tongue, and even though she had superb tits, they weren't the same under my hands as the hard, lean muscles of another guy would be. I began to panic - could I get it up? My dick seemed to have lost its erection, and I didn't get any sense that it was going to spring into action. I reckon it was Jon who saved me - he got up off the couch, tore off his shirt and dropped his pants, and came and knelt in front of his wife so he could stroke and caress her. He had a really good body - not overly muscular, but I could see that he obviously worked out, or played a whole lot of tennis, or swam regularly, or stuff like that, as he was lean and tanned, and seeing his arms and shoulders working and the way his head and neck were moving up and down was actually exciting - if only it was him I was going to fuck, now that would be exciting! And even as I thought this, my dick stirred into action. I closed my eyes and imagined that the hand that was stroking me through my sweat pants was Jon's, not Anne's, and I was away.

End Of Part Twenty Three