Spoils of War

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

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

Part 18

All four of us slaves watch almost in astonishment as the big black stripped off, casually tossing his clothes to the young lad who darted around to catch them and place them neatly on the bench. As his body was revealed we could see that this was no fat, overweight slob - his huge body was solid muscle, and he was generally gleaming with good health. And his dick was on the same heroic scale as the rest of him - it hung there almost thicker than the arms of the thin slaveboy, barely covering proportionately sized low-hanging balls.

He came over to me, put one of his huge hands on my biceps and turned me around. I felt his other hand moving over my butt, then his fingers forcing their way down between my cheeks.

"Hey!...! I spun around to face him, blazing with anger.

"That's twelve strokes, boy!", he snapped. "And you'd better behave - I'm inspecting you. You're a slave, remember? And a free man has the right to inspect a naked slave. Now, stand still, or else I'll have you caned before the fight, and after...."

I saw Lewis gesturing at me with his eyes, and thought I ought to be careful. Seeing him naked I knew that the black wasn't a slave - there was no brand or anything on his skin, and no sign of a collar anywhere, as I'd been told the law required for all slaves. So, gritting my teeth, I stood there as his hand slid down between my butt cheeks again, then felt his stubby finger probing at my hole. As he pushed it in, I gasped.

"Nice, slave! I like a slave with a night tight ass, even when he's been lubed. That's why I like fighting you first-timers particularly. Now, boy, have you been fucked before?"

I could feel myself blushing as I replied "Yes, sir."

"By a dick like this one?" As he said this, he grabbed hold of his dick and gestured at me with it - he was semi-erect, and it truly did look monstrous."

"No, sir."

"Well, boy, let me tell you, it's going to hurt. And you're going to scream. And it won't make a blind bit of difference - I'll carry on ramming it in, then I'll give you the fucking of your life. And you'll be shouting and howling and begging me to stop, and I won't. You'll know what real dick is like, once I've finished. And when I do pull out of you, you'll be like a beaten puppy, so when I give you my dick to clean, you'll lick it as if it's the most precious thing you've ever seen - and the crowd will love it! They love to see a black beat a white. They love seeing black dick filling a white hole. And they love to see a white guy crawl in front of a black one, and lick his dick. And then when we come back here, I'm going to put you over that very bench there, and cane you. Have you got all that, boy? Two lots of humiliation in one night: fucked by black dick, and a big strong marine beaten by a nigga!"

I glared at him, and straightened my body to stop looking subservient. "Sir, you've forgotten one thing..."

"And what's that, slaveboy?"

"You've got to win first, sir!"

He roared with laughter, and put his huge arm around the shoulders of the young slaveboy, pulling him to his body. You could almsot see the black's fingers causing more bruising on the poor kid. "Well, Spike, let me tell you, that there's no possibility of you winning. Young Slug here will tell you that. I won him in my first fight, and he's seen me win every one since, haven't you, Sluggo?"

"Sir, yes, sir.". The young lad's voice was strong, but he sounded terrified.

"And do the slaves I beat all scream as they're fucked, Slug?"

"Sir, yes, sir."

"As loud as when I fuck you, Slug?"

"Sir, yes, sir."

"And let me tell you, Spike, that young Sluggo here screams really loud when I fuck him: in fact, he prays that I win, don't you Slug? Because when I win, I have a nice muscular white marine ass to fuck, not this thin little runt here!"

"Sir, why are you fighting, like a gladiator? I thought it was only slaves who had to go into the arena , sir?", I asked cautiously.

"You're the first one to ask that, Spike! Perhaps those balls of yours really are working, as most guys don't dare speak out. Well, I was in jail when the war broke out - I was lucky, as they still sent you to jail then: I'd have been a fucking slave like you, if I was jailed now. But it was nothing serious, really - I'd beaten the shit out of a few guys, that sort of thing. I wasn't fighting in the war, but when I got out there weren't any jobs - it would have been tough anyway, an ex-con, but with all you fucking slaves flooding in, it was impossible. I've always liked a good scrap, though, so I went to one of the gladiator schools and asked to fight - they weren't keen, until they saw I always win, and that means big bucks for them. And it means big bucks for me, too - my fan club likes to see a big black dick rammed up a whiteboy's ass, a whiteboy just like you...."

Talking about the fight like this had evidently turned him on as his big dick was now thrusting upwards. It really did look terrifying - much thicker than mine, and probably a couple of inches longer. I knew that if that went up me, I'd be screaming - I wouldn't be able to help myself. But there's no point in letting the other guy see you're afraid, is there?

"Well, nigga, you aren't going to win this one! I'm a trained marine, and I've won all my fights so far.... So you'd better get yourself greased up if you don't want to get ripped in half when I fuck you...."

"Right, boy! After the fight, you'll really get caned now. I told you before, you need to respect free men.....", he almost screamed at me.

He would have gone on but the guards intervened and told us there was only five minutes to show time. Lewis handed me the tiny white silk pouch we wore for the fight, and I stood there pushing myself into it and tying the strings to hold it on. The big black snapped his fingers and the thin young slave knelt down and started to try to ease his master into his. He must have done something wrong, though, as the next moment there was the sound of a tremendous slap as the black hit the slave on the side of the head, knocking him off his balance. He lay there, sprawled on the floor, and a trickle of blood started to flow from his nose.

"Sir, I'm sorry, sir....", he began to whine.

"You bastard! Leave the little guy alone!". I almost threw myself onto the black, and the guards and Lewis had to pull us apart.

"You fucking slave!", the black screamed at me. "I'm looking forward to tanning your hide after the fight now. And to fucking you....."

The young slave picked himself up off the floor, and, almost cowering as if he was expecting to be hit again at any moment, went back to attempting to "dress" his master. We both stood there then at the door, naked except for those little tiny pouches, and I couldn't help but be worried by what I saw - the thickly corded arms, the broad, muscular back, the thick thighs coming down from the muscular butt; and he did kind of tower over me - he had a tremendous physical "presence" and I could see that just being in the arena with such a man would intimidate a lot of guys and almost cause them to fail.

The guards led us along a corridor and up a short flight of stairs, and then we stopped outside a pair of double doors. I could hear the roaring and cheering of the crowd now, loud and clear. We waited for a few seconds, then, with almost a theatrical rush, they flew open and we marched together into the arena.

It was kind of scary, actually: it was so much bigger than the ones I'd been used to, not in terms of the actual fighting area which is the standard size, but with far, far more banked rows of seats stretching way, way up into the high ceiling - seats that were filled with men and women, all shouting and screaming at us as we appeared. Some of them were waving banners, too, and I say several "Spike we love you" ones being waved by groups of women. The real difference, though, was the lighting: this whole place was absolutely brilliantly lit, so much so that it almost seared the eyeballs, for the TV cameras, I guess. And then I noticed that the barrier that ran all around the arena was kind of translucent - there were cameras all around, behind this. Looking down, the floor was of this same tough glass-like material, and I could see cameras down there too: oh fuck me, I thought, when I'm lying there having my ass ploughed, those cameras will be able to look up and give a view of his dick pumping straight into me!

I broke out in sweat, not just from the fear and the embarrassment of being almost nude in front of this huge crowd, but because it was very hot under those glaring lights. On the huge video screens around the arena I could see a changing panorama of shots of us - from the back, from the front, zooming in onto our faces, then our crotches, and then our asses: this was exposure of a kind I'd never even though possible.

The PA boomed out introducing "the slave Spike from the well known Gleeson's Gladiators", fighting our very own free man champion, from right here in Atlanta, let's have a big hand for Leroy!"

The crowd screamed and waved and clapped, and it was obvious they were all rooting for the black. Then the PA cut in "So let's get them started, ladies and gentleman: remember, the usual rules of the second channel: no gouging, but anything else goes. One round only, the fight is over when the loser is fucked by the winner. Right, gentlemen, on your marks.... GO!"

I was almost deafened by the noise, but fucking Leroy was clearly used to this as the moment the PA said "GO", he leaped on me and floored me. I could feel his huge sweaty body crushing me to the ground, and then he started to pummel me.....

I don't remember the rest of the fight in detail. As my anger and fighting rage came over me, I did manage to get out from underneath him somehow, then kicked out at his head, hearing a very satisfactory kind of "crunch" as my bare foot connected with his skull. I didn't care what happened then - although he got to his feet and tried to bear hug me, I managed to evade him, and all the time the anger was building and my body was responding by going into complete "fight" mode. I was no longer a civilised human being - I was a naked animal, fighting for his life.

The problem is that he was so much bigger and stronger than me, and every time one of his blows even vaguely connected with me it hurt like hell, and did serious damage to my fighting ability. Finally, I was knocked down to the ground, and as I struggled to try to get to my feet, I saw him about to throw himself onto me - that would have been the end, I knew, as once he had me pinioned under him, there would be no hope. Summoning up all my remaining reserves of energy I hurled myself upwards somehow, just as he got close, and my shoulder connected with his balls as he went to straddle me.

Effectively, that was him finished: as he fell to the floor, screaming with the agony from my charge, I pounded his skull repeatedly with my clasped hands, and this seemed at last to make him almost pass out. He lay there like a mighty felled tree, but I knew I had very little time as he began to stir.

For the benefit of those of you who don't follow the "sport", or who haven't seen one of the fights on the second channel, I ought just to mention that it's known that it's unrealistic to be able to subdue another man long enough to really fuck him. So in one corner of the arena there's a set of handcuffs on a short chain firmly connected to the floor, and the idea is that you disable your opponent to the point when you can drag him along there and secure him: without the use of his hands and arms, it's then relatively easy to use his body for the proper end of match ritual.

In my weakened state it was hard to drag the black over to the cuffs, but I did it somehow - my body found new reserves of energy, as it knew that the consequences of not doing so would be to lose. Somehow, the act of closing the cuffs onto his wrists gave me a fresh impetus, and without even a thought I bent over him and brutally ripped the tiny scrap of satin covering his dick and balls so I could get at his ass - my guess about the cameras underneath us was right, as out of the corner of my eye I could then see his huge dick in its bed of tight curly black hair clearly shown on the screen.

I was no longer ashamed or embarrassed. I was the winner. I'd vanquished this big, tough guy, and almost without giving it a thought I tore off my own pouch and stood there with my dick reaching for the sky - the big video screens went to a split image, showing a close up of this alongside the black. The crowd were cheering now, and it was no longer "LEroy, LEroy, LEroy...." but "Spike, Spike, Spike...." overlaid with "Fuck him, Fuck him, Fuck him...."

The wave of noise was almsot overwhelming, but somehow this helped me: they were no longer men and women watching me, but some anonymous, amorphous mass. I could do things in front of this faceless mob that I could never have done in front of a smaller audience. I knelt down, put my arm under his belly and hauled his ass into the air. Then, as the hidden cameras watched and relayed every hidden part of it to the crowd, I almost pulled his butt cheeks apart savagely, saw his hole, paler than the rest of his black skin, positioned my dick at it, then thrust in.

They must have had directional mikes, too, as his cream ran right around the arena, and caused the crowd to cheer even louder. Then, as my natural instincts took over and I began to fuck him vigorously, they could all hear his continuing cries superimposed on my own heavy breathing and shouts of triumph.

Well, when you haven't shot for a couple of days, and you're in a high state of arousal anyway, it doesn't take much to bring you off, does it? I don't suppose I'd thrust more than ten or eleven times into and out of him when I knew I was going to cum. My back arched, my head went backwards, and I gave a great shout of "Sweet Jesus..... Fffuuuucccckkkkk.....", and then it was over for me. I held the position for a few seconds, feeling that exquisite sensation as my cum pumped along my dick, then I collapsed forward onto Leroy, whose cries of pain had now subsided into a continual whimpering.

I ought to have been calm and sensible then. I'd climaxed, I'd won, it was all over. But as I pulled out of him, I saw my dick was covered in blood, and his shit. Then I remembered the arrogance of him in not being flushed out, as I had been, and not lubing up, as I'd done. And as my mind raced over the scenes in the changing room, I remembered the way he'd treated that poor young kid, Slug. And the way that the kid's body was so covered in the signs of rough treatment that he must use him like that all the time.

I felt my blood start to pump fast again, and I wanted revenge - revenge for all of us slaves who were being made to suffer under these Southerners. Fucking him wasn't enough. He needed to pay for his arrogance, and for the attitude of the whole of the South!

He was utterly defeated, and made no attempt to hinder me s I rolled him over onto his back. Then I straddled his chest, and pushed his shoulders onto the floor and held them there with my knees, so that I could kneel there with my dick right over his mouth.

"Right, you fucker!", I snapped, my words being picked up by the mikes and relayed to the audience, which had now gone silent. "Open up - my dick's coated in your shit, as you're just a filthy nigga who didn't have the courtesy to clean himself out before a fight.... I need my nice white dick cleaned of nigga shit, boy...."

He just glared at me, so I reached around and grabbed his balls, giving them a hard squeeze so that he screamed out. "Now, do you want your balls torn off, or are you going to clean my dick, nigga?"

"No, please... "

"Open wide, fucker...."

"No, please, anything...."

"Anything?"

"Please don't make me eat shit! I'll not cane you afterwards...."

"Open wide, fucker.... I'm going to piss on you, too, for even mentioning that...."

"No, please... I'll give you anything.... Look, you like that slave, I'll give you him...."

I stopped in amazement. "You'll give me the young boy slave you call Slug?"

"Yes. Please... I don't want to eat shit...."

I got off him, and stood there for a moment. Then, as carefully as I could, to show my utter contempt for them, I bowed slightly to the audience, turned through ninety degrees and bowed again, then again, and again, to cover them all. The silence that fallen as they listened to our conversation now turned into catcalls and jeering, and a great chant of "Make him eat shit..." started up.

I just turned, and walked to the arena doors, which opened in front of me - I guess the management thought it was better to get me out of there, before a riot started.

The guards who escorted me back to the changing room didn't seem too pleased, and Lewis looked a bit thunderstruck, too - he'd been watching it on the closed circuit TV down there. But young Slug rushed up to me and threw hi arms around me. "Thank you, thank you...", he was almost sobbing, "Thanks, Spike.... I reckon you've saved my life... I couldn't take too many more beatings..."

"Get showered quickly, Spike", Lewis whispered. "And let's get back to our holding cell before they bring that Leroy down here, or there'll be more trouble....". It seemed like good advice, and so I washed the sweat, blood and shit off me as quickly as I could, then pulled on my Gleeson's T and shorts. But not quickly enough, as the door opened, and a furious looking Leroy stormed in.

He cursed and swore at me, but my anger was over now and words don't matter all that much, do they? So I just stood there and took it, but then I heard him say "And don't think you're getting that slave, either. In fact, I'm going to give him a proper beating tonight, to remind him that slaves don't fuck around with masters..."

"Hey, I won him off you, fair and square. You offered him to me in a deal, and I accepted...."

"Masters don't deal with slaves. Or have you forgotten you're a slave?"

"Fucking typical. What should I expect, down here in the South. I wonder why you didn't want to clean my dick - it's such a load of shit down here anyway hat you ought to be used to it...."

I thought he was going to attack me then, but the guards held him back. Then one of them said to him "You know, Leroy, you've got a problem here - everyone heard you give Slug to this slave... If you back out, you'll not be thought of as a gentleman...."

"Fuck that! A gentleman doesn't have to keep a bargain with a slave!"

"Leroy, you're a nigga and you can't be expected to understand. But down here, a gentleman keeps his word - whether it's to another gentleman, or to a slave... Or even to a nigga!" As he said this, you could just tell that the guard held Leroy in utter contempt. And I think Leroy must have sense this, as he just said "Right, he gets the fucking slave! But he earned a good caning before the fight, and we didn't bargain about that!"

"You!", Leroy snapped at me "Lie over that bench - and get bare-assed. I only cane slave's asses raw. We said a dozen, didn't we, for not showing proper respect for a free man...."

"You fucker! You beat up that poor little guy, and now I've beaten you in a fair fight, you're taking revenge...."

"That's just been doubled to twenty four, slave. No fucking slave talks to a free man like that..."

I could see the guards nodding, so even though they had no respect for Leroy, they evidently thought he was right about the way to treat slaves. I was going to argue again, but Lewis caught my arm. "Spike - calm down. You can't win this one. Remember what they taught us in the Corps - you need to know when to give up, even if you don't want to, as it's more important to survive to fight another day.... For Christ sake, don't be a stupid headstrong young fucker - you're already going to have to take twenty four strokes, and he's capable of ordering a lot more. And you are in the wrong, you know... You are supposed to be polite to free men."

Lewis's intervention had calmed me down a bit, and I realised he was telling the truth - I couldn't win this one. Two guards and the big black could do what they liked to me, and they could tell the Colonel that it had been justified. I just didn't say anything. I didn't want to them to have the satisfaction of knowing I was seething inside, and with as much dignity as I could muster, I shugged down my shorts and lay across the bench, wincing as its wooden slats bit into my skin, painful from the bruising I'd just got in the fight.

I heard Leroy talking to the guards. "So, gentlemen, six each for you, and twelve for me? Everyone enjoys giving a slave a good caning, and this one's exceptional: look at that butt!"

They evidently agreed, as there was a lot of ribald laughter as they joked about beating slave butt. Then I heard a "swish", and then my ass exploded into pain as the thin cane cut neatly across my left butt. My whole body jerked reflexively, and I heard Leroy chuckle "Good one! That'll start to teach him. Go on, don't hold back...."

Well, the six administered by one of the guards was bad enough, and when the other one started in on me, he was of course fresh and the pain started all over again. Then I just lay there, my breathing all ragged, as I tried to keep myself under control and prevent myself from sobbing.

"Right, fucker - now it's my turn!", Leroy rumbled in an eager, low voice. And then I found out what pain could really be about in a caning: the guards had done what I suppose is a fairly conventional job - ordinary strokes across my butt. But Leroy tackled my thighs as I lay there, and a cane stroke on the back of the thighs is infinitely worse than across the butt. And, more than that, he moved from side to side, so that the cane hit the top and inside. I was in absolute agony, and even though I'd decided not to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was hurting me, I just couldn't help it: as each new blow fell, I screamed at the top of my voice and my whole body jerked convulsively.

"There, slave. Now, has that taught you respect? What do you say?" The bastard was deliberately taunting me.

I wanted to tell him he was just a bully, a thug, an pig-ignorant nigga, but what was the point? He did hold all the cards. And I was a bit concerned that at any moment he might decide to renege on his "deal" with me - after all, the guards were probably more on his side now, as he'd let them cane me. So I just mumbled "Yes, sir."

There was that swish, and my body again leaped as the cane fell squarely across my shoulders.

"Say it again, slave, and be properly grateful. Did you learn anything? And are you grateful?"

"Sir, yes, sir. Thank you, sir, for teaching me to respect a free man, sir." It was a struggle to get the words out without making them sound sarcastic, and I think an intelligent man would have picked up the contempt in my tone anyway, but Leroy just laughed a deep belly laugh.

"Get this scum out of here", he told the guards. "Can't you take him away and lock him up, or something? And his handler - and that piece of shit he won.... Get all three of them out of here, as I need to shower and get dressed...."

I don't know if they were afraid of Leroy, or in awe of him as he was a star, or what, but the guards just grabbed me and hauled me to my feet. I couldn't shower or anything, and they had to half drag me back to the room where we'd been locked before. I was in a pretty bay way, actually - Leroy had given me a real going over in the arena, and now I was hurting desperately from the twenty five cane strokes. I collapsed onto my belly on the sleeping pad, and Lewis knelt beside me. He ran his hand lightly over my thighs, butt and back, and I flinched as he did.

"You'll live, Spike!", he said, trying to sound cheerful. "They may hurt now, but the skin's not broken so there won't be scarring or anything. What a bastard, though...."

"Spike.... Thank you..... Master." I'd almsot forgotten about young Slug, but he was now kneeling on the other side of me. "Thank you, master, for saving me...."

"Hey, Slug, I'm not your master! I'm a slave, like you and Lewis. We're just three guys together. You call me Spike, OK? And what's your real name? You're not really 'Slug' are you?"

"No, Spike. Leroy called me Slug when he bought me and had me shaved, as he said I was all white and smooth like a slug. But he also called me Sluggo...."

"No, what's your real name?"

"Well before I was made a slave I was Bradley - my folks and my buddies all called me Brad."

Just then, the door opened, and the guards threw in three of the slave chow bars. Lewis went to pick them up, but Brad got there first, tore off the packaging as if in a frenzy, and was devouring it ravenously. Without a word, Lewis handed Brad his bar, and seeing me nodding in agreement, he gave him mine, too. Sure, I was hungry after the fight, but not as hungry as this poor kid - he looked as if he was starving.

When he'd finished eating, Brad realised what he'd done, and looked embarrassed. "Hey, I've eaten yours too...." The words kind of stumbled out of him.

"Didn't that bastard of an owner feed you?", Lewis asked.

"No really. He said that if I was hungry I'd be more eager to suck dick, and all I got most days was the cum from him and his buddies. But sometimes they'd toss me the end of a packet of fries if they had burgers, when they'd eaten all they could themselves.

And sometimes I could pick up something that young kids had left as we were leaving a burger place - but it's not easy, as if he saw me, he beat me: and when you're naked, there's nowhere to hide even a crust."

"He kept you like that - totally naked and shaved smooth, even when you were out in the streets?"

"Yes. He said that a thin white boy like me showed off his body better."

"But why are you a slave - you weren't old enough to be fighting in the army, surely? How old are you anyway?"

"Sixteen, three months ago. My dad's in the air force, and he'd sent me to a military school down in Georgia. When the war broke out they said that all kids at a military school were effectively combatants - they sent all the guys from the South back to their folks, but the rest of us had to stay, although they brought guys in from several other schools, and installed guards and such. All of the classes were stopped, but they made us do exercises and stuff all the time. Then, as soon as you're sixteen, they take you off and auction you - sixteen's the youngest a slave can be, they say. I was put up on the block with a whole load of Arab guys who had been captured in the fighting over there, and Leroy was swaggering past with a load of his hangers on, and they thought it would be cool to buy me."

"But he beat you up all the time..."

"Yes. He doesn't like whites much. And there's nothing I could do - I mean, look at him! Even you, Spike, had a problem beating him. Then he thought it kind of cool to keep me completely naked, and, as I said, he decided to have me shaved completely so that I looked kind of exotic against his black skin."

Lewis and I could hardly believe all of this. I mean, it's bad enough turning soldiers into slaves, but at least they're mature guys, and meant to be able to take care of themselves. But a kid like this - it wasn't right. And I remembered how I'd been at sixteen - I hated being naked in the arena now, but at that age, to have to go around buck naked, with all my hair shaved off, I think I'd have died of shame!"

"And he fucked you?", Lewis went on, gently.

"Yes." Brad lowered his head, as if he was ashamed.

In spite of my pain, I got up and put my arm around the kid and pulled him close to me. "Hey, there's nothing to be ashamed of, you know..."

"But when I get back home, all the other kids at High School will call me a fag...."

"Brad, look, there's nothing to be ashamed of.... I hadn't taken a guy's dick before I was made a slave, but it's OK... It's perfectly natural, no, it's fun. But I think it's unlikely that you'll be going back to High School...."

"Spike, are you saying I'm a slave for life?"

I realised that he'd vocalised the thought that had been scaring me, as I as in the same situation.

"Brad, I don't think these bastard Southerners are going to let us go - ever." As I said this, I hugged him closer to me, and I could feel a shudder of despair go through his thin body.

End Of Part 18