Fit. Fuck. Fight. Flog. What guys do. Y'all know from the first seven chapters that I'm doin the fit fuck flog but no fight yet. That starts to change this weekend. Today, Friday starts with that full-body bang, get run to the job and on it. Big dawgs initiate with dicks, canes. Scaffold climb with bricks. Evening with pissed-off overseer Pete.

THE STORY SO FAR (Y'all can skip this if you know it)

The weekend I write up the first seven chapters, too, the ones y'all read but might not remember. Rememberin can get hard for me too -- why Pete n the Boss made me stop to write. I've started n stopped this way too many times, so parts of it read that way. That was almost a year ago, but they'll work me on catchin up. They'll make sure I write better next time.

I'm Steve. Ex-Recon Marine, ex-gladiator, 33 years old. Chapter 1 told how I set up with my three slaves (Ex-gladiator Jamie I'd spent my five years indentured as a gladiator to buy. Crippled ex-gladiator Darren, who our gladiator stable broke n threw away, who I bought n rescued. Jamie n Darren are partners, lovers, 23 years old. Third guy is Luke, Jamie's 18-year-old brother. Luke's dad indentured him five years to me to keep him from gettin enslaved for delinquent stupidity.)

I rented a place in a slave barracks for us, paid for it by hirin Luke n Jamie out to a building contractor n workin myself as a part-time trainer in the slave gym. We were makin it okay, but I didn't see much security, much of a future for four unskilled guys.

An orthopod fixed Darren's leg; I paid for it by spendin a weekend at Doc's cabin, workin as a naked sex slave with my guys. Doc's guests would pick which of the four of us was the free man. The winner got me for the night -- after MY three slaves caned n fucked me.

Before Doc's operation n after it, I worked with Darren to rebuild him. I trained with him, bet a flog, fuck, or both on each workout -- shaped us both up (Chapter 1). That's the "Rebuilding a gladiator" title.

Chapter 2 is that weekend.

Chapter 3 is how it changed me from free slave-owner to indentured slave. Monday after the weekend I realized I how much I needed to be challenged, to get worked n played physically hard. I called the contractor who ran us on the weekend for a tryout, Mr Hardwicke, the Boss.

I bullwhipped the Boss after I won a workout (he kept his shirt off the rest of the day); he fucked n flogged me after he won a 10-km run. He picked up my three guys. We got initiated (okay, flogged) that night. I signed us up for a week, option to extend for six months. I get a kewl truck at the end (2010 Ford F250 powerstroke diesel, 4X4, red, crewcab, short bed).

My guys think I'm nuts. I say it's to get us all a better future; they say I just want the boss's dick n whip. We wear shorts n jocks, keep the upper body open to overseers for motivation (ie, whips).

Chapter 4 is Tuesday, our training day with Pete, our overseer -- orientation to the company n safety on the job. It started with a mindblowing, whole body orgasm when Luke fucked n played my hard-worked, hard-flogged carcass.

We learned more about the quirt that they use to motivate n train -- braided handle, two heavy straps, both a foot or so long. It works up close on movin targets (us) -- too close for a bullwhip, movin too fast for a cane. The quirt don't kill you but it sure don't make you feel good. Buttbites n backbites are bad, titbites on tits n ballbites on balls are worse.

Chapter 5, Wednesday, is our bareeass training in the logistics system -- n how we became part of it with our implanted RFID chips, just like dogs at the pound. But the chip logs us into jobs like punchin the clock, n it opens our cell doors n dispenses beer in the lounge after work n training. E helped catch n cane two delivery guys that ripped off our company. After work I bullwhipped n fucked the Boss after I outran him. He kept his shirt off too -- in the mess hall, the gym, the lounge. That got us both some attention.

Chapter 6, Thursday, started great. We four got to do the real guy labour. I felt so strong n got so happy that I took Darren's dare to race up a scaffold. Bad pun, bad idea. I won the race, lost the war. That major safety violation got us four n overseer Pete caned a dozen on the job. That afternoon we all labour bareass, just jocks n chain collars, plus slave steel-toed boots n hardhats on the job. After our shift we had to race up the scaffold for half an hour, with overseers' whips to motivate us. I won, so the other guys got tit-whipped n back-whipped for losin. We ran bareass back to the compound -- just chain collars, jocks, n boots.

That Thursday night (Chapter 7) we got beat in the lounge -- caned backstage, then for the guys watchin we got titcaned (new to us), flogger, bullwhip, blacksnake (new to us). The Boss made it a competition -- pushups (titcane) n pullups (flogger, bullwhip, blacksnake). I won em all; the losers got hit worse n me. Pete n some other guys have to work n train with us, like us.

I sign us up for the six months. I also agree my punk Luke can get skinned (circumcised) n name-tattooed like us three gladiators. While the boss had that talk with me n flexed his blacksnake, I was naked (jockless) n doin deep kneebends to flex my glutes n tame the two dozen canecuts on my sorry ass. At the end, an overseer ran us n the other guys punished that night naked around the compound. I loved it. the other guys didn't. Back in our cells, my slave Jamie caned n punishment-fucked me. My slave Luke did Darren. Me n Darren's third dozen cane cuts that day. Then my punk slave n cellmate Luke says he loves me like a brother.

That takes us to this Chapter 8 -- Friday. Well, like the song Grandad used to sing, "What a long strange trip it's been." But every time I've tried to write this chapter, I get hung up on my Friday wake-up call and what happened the night before. We'll get past this, but meanwhile enjoy the trip.


It's Friday morning in the first week I'd signed me n my slaves up for with Hardwicke Co. We've just been here since Monday but it feels like forever. A week ago I was still a free man, a slaveowner. I owned the ex-gladiators Darren and Jamie, plus Jamie's punk little brother, Luke, that his dad indentured to me to protect from lifetime slavery.

Now I'm a slave here (indentured), another ex-gladiator, along with my three slaves. It's early mornin, testosterone time in the barracks again, my favourite time, but early.

It's the morning after me (Steve), my slaves Darren, Luke, and Jamie, plus our overseer Pete all got caned on the job, then got tit-cane, flogger, bullwhip, and blacksnake-whip in the lounge after the gym last night -- all because I took Darren's dare to race up a scaffold on the job. Back in our cell, MY slaves took revenge with tawse, cane, and punishment fuck. Then (after another cold shower that didn't help) my punk slave, Luke, said he loves me like a brother!

This morning, I get another mind-blowing full-body climax when my punk slave fucks me. To continue our "learning experience," we all work bareass, wearing just jock collar boots. We get run out to the job, worked hard all day, and run back -- all under the lash. I love it, showin I'm the butchest of em all. Proud senior overseer Pete hates the punishment and humiliation. I spend the next couple nights in Pete's cell, train with him too. Saturday, the next afternoon, Luke gets me off again with a tawse, not a blowjob, twice.


My body -- muscles butt n hide - all tell me he's been worked hard inside (labouring, training in the gym under the tawse, climbing, running, winning distance runs and climbing races and pushup and pullup contests) and out (caned, tit-caned, chest-whipped, back-whipped, not to mention the quirts and canes and tawses to spur me in my work and competitions) and fucked (Jamie for punishment last night, Luke gently now). He (my body) loves it and my dick shows it.

Just like the other mornings here, I wake up lying on my right side because my chest, butt, and back got beaten. Luke, the punk slave I can't fuck because I'm his protector, spoons behind me, wraps his strong arms n body around me, his abused hide on mine, his hard, hard-worked young muscles on mine, his hard young dick in me, his work-hardened hands and arms torturing my skin muscles collar tits balls. He feels REAL kewl on my back, butt, and chest. Probably I feel good on his worked, whipped tits n pecs, too. He even feels good in my punishment-fucked hole.

Like the first morning, Tuesday, after our flogging initiation, Luke twists my collar, balls, and a tit.

He fires every nerve in my abused skin and muscles, abused tits, abused hole. When he jerks my chain collar and shoots in me, my whole body goes climax, just like Tuesday, the morning after our flogging initiation here (Chapter 4).

It's not just a great dick shoot. EVERYthing fires. All the energy that all the work and training drove into my muscles, that all the pain and impact the flogging and fucking drove into my hide and hole -- it all just fired, like I'm a hundred blasting caps, a frag grenade, not just one dick. Sure he shot. So did EVERYTHING else. This is that tantric thing, just like that house in Bang Cock but that one hurt WAY less.

Guess I take a whole lot of whole-body stimulation.

I wanna zone here, not wake up. He holds my balls while I clean my spunk, feeds it to me. I grunt -- purr, actually. Still ain't opened my eyes.

I kinda come alive but don't really wake up. I don't want to think. I really don't want to move, but another day of slave labour's underway. I try to focus, to remember ...


But Luke talks. "Steve, when I say I love you like a brother, you know what I mean?"

I REALLY don't want to wake up. I grunt something that might sound like "Mmm?"

"You know what you mean to me, big guy?"


"You're my big brother. The guy that takes care of me. The guy that wants to make a man of me so I have a future. Home was tough after Mom died and Jamie got enslaved. School was ugly because I was the math nerd who played soccer -- and liked guys. Guys were supposed to like girls and football, not math. Maybe meth but not math. I tried the gangbanger thing that got me here.

I want to be with you because you wanted Jamie and me, fought for Jamie every day for damn near five years, put your own ass on the line for us at Doc's weekend (Chapter 2) and here. That's why I'm grateful you'll let me get tattooed and skinned like you. I'm supergrateful you would have gotten yourself blacksnaked again to protect me from that but I'm glad you let me instead of getting yourself flogged.

"I want to get close to you, bond with you, hold you and have you hold me, but you can't fuck me because you're my protector. I get close to you when I hold you, fuck you, but I really get off when I resurrect your dick and sit on it. Does this sound crazy or make sense?"

Fuck! It's maybe not even 5 am. I do not want to think. I just want to glow or whatever, finish twitchin, from the mindblowing, full-body fuck. But I wake up enough to answer, "Yeah, punk, you make sense. Thanks! I love you too." Don't open my eyes yet.

I take the last minutes before the horn to roll onto my chest n vege. He rolls over with me, gets on top, lies on me with his dick still in me. His weight n mine fire all those muscles -- pecs, delts, arms, back, glutes, even abs -- again. Fire all the flogged places too -- tits, pecs, shoulders, back, butt, hamstrings. Again! I try to zone for the day. I feel SO limp.

Luke's movin resurrects me. He rolls me over, tortures skin muscles tits balls, dick especially -- remember Indian burn, twist something two ways?. Resurrects dick. Sits on it. Moves on it. Twists my caned tits. Him bouncin off my groin n abs feels so kewl. He looks so hot. We both shoot again. He feeds me his spunk. This time I'm buzzed but zoned out.

But here's that wakeup call. The horn. Six! It's another day of slave labour, this time for punishment. KEWL! I'll win this game too.


We stand easy by the cell door, holdin our jocks, Luke's hand wrapped around my butt with the fingers in the crack. Overseer Pete looks flogged ugly angry. Dangerous. He wears just a jock like us, reminds me n my guys we're bareass n why. Pissed-off Pete's my weekend partner.

At the showers, we meet the two apprentices who'll work n train with us. The electrician says to call him Sparky, the plumber says to call him Mario, cuz they're Bulgarian n nobody can pronounce their names, let alone remember em.

Pete brings the Ace Plumbing guys over. They show how bad they took their punishment session last night. Pete swats Mr Jackson, ex-criminal mastermind. "Meet Ape. Only 'Misters' here are the bosses, Mr Hardwicke and Mr Whitmore (Chapter 5). This dumbass is Ape because he's Ace Plumbing & Electrical (APE, okay) and real hairy. Ape n the two Aces -- the wiry driver Darren caned, the big swamper I caned, Little Ace, Big Ace -- will work n train with us today n the weekend while the auditors start workin on what Ape did at Ace Plumbing & Electrical.

Pete tells us all to groom up REAL good. Buzz the hair, shave EVERYthing below eyebrows. The boss will inspect. Pete n me do each other (he holds my balls real tight while he shaves em; he holds mine real tight while I shave his REAL careful). Cracks too. My guys show the apprentices n Aces how.

Sunscreen, deodorant. Just jocks today, even Pete, but Pete Luke n Jamie get their quirts.


Breakfast. Especially in the chow line, we all get LOTS of hands-on attention. Especially Pete, usually the hard stud overseer. Respect too, but I notice the tit-twists, butt-pinches more. It all feels kewl, even Pete's real black look. Never mind I spend tonight alone with him.

We meet the boss in a room off the slave entry, after we get our boots -- new issue for Ape (seein him shaved, I try to forget him as Mr Jackson, criminal mastermind). Pete will orient Ape n the Aces. Luke n Jamie (n their quirts) will drive me, Darren, n the apprentices.

Mr Hardwicke says we run to n from the jobsite again. Am I down with that? Well, I do like to run, like to show the bod I work n train, but not necessarily show all the flogging evidence. Mr H grins. "Kewl," he says. "Remember that, cuz y'all stay bareass till you earn shorts again. Even Pete."

The Boss's inspection starts okay -- stand tall, legs apart, hands behind head. It gets ugly when we bend over n spread our legs n cheeks. Ape n the Aces didn't get smooth there. The Boss nails Pete's crack n hole six shots with his quirt, tells Pete to do me n Darren while he does Luke n Jamie. (His quirt wraps up into my balls n dick.) A new way to hurt! The Boss won't use his quirt on Ape n the Aces' hairy cracks until we get em shaved n clean. Finally we've done em n the boss has done em. Time to run to the job with Luke, Jamie, Darren, n Sparky n Mario.

Before we go, the boss glares at me, says to keep the formation. It's a warmup jog in formation, no funrun, no race. "Y'all just prep to work REAL hard on the job. Eight-minute miles. There are eight cross-streets to a mile, so one minute per block. Even a Marine should get THAT." That one's for me, the ex-Recon Marine; the boss is ex-Army Airborne. He hands Jamie a watch with hands, even a second hand (probably his first ever, now that all the free kids carry iPhones). "Time em. Turn it in at the site office until the run back."

He says to limit the damage to our butts n backs, so he'll show Luke n Jamie how to keep us in control, not just on the run but on the job. "Spread your legs, hands behind your head," he tells em. He snaps his quirt at the pouch of each one's jock. "Fuck!" He snaps again, five more times. "Need balls out?"

Luke n Jamie snap, "Sir! No, Sir!"

They practise on the four of us -- me, Darren, apprentices. Mostly balls in, just a couple balls out over the waistband. Fuck! Toby run like real good nigger.

Seven am. Time to head. Our guys in the trucks and crew bus whistle when they pass us. Lots of phones snap photos as the commuters' cars trucks buses pass us, honkin n wavin.

The run feels good (at least to me). We stay in formation, in pairs. Me n Darren lead, then the apprentices, Luke n Jamie leadin from behind. Darren n me hear their quirts keepin the apprentices' bare butts in line.

Jamie yells at us to slow down a notch. I thought we did, but Jamie sprints past n does a wide receiver's stop n turn, facin us. Uh-oh. Luke joins him. Ballbites. Step behind a sign for six balls out. Feels very unkewl stuffin em back into the pouch to finish the run. We stay in REAL good step, Jamie callin the "Left! Left!"

I don't mind that run endin at the job site. Jamie turns in the watch after we all flex our RFID chips for the timekeeping gate (like stray dogs at the pound, like pallets in a warehouse, but the overseers n the site super flex in too).


On the job, we all join the crew haulin stuff, mostly up scaffolds and down into the excavation. It's my second day, Darren's third countin the contractor on Monday.

They put me n Darren with what looks like the heavydrop guys -- the big kinda hairy guys, tough-lookin overseer. He was one of the men that caned us on the jobsite. He's gotta show us n his crew who's boss. So Darren n I work real careful, real hard, but still get lots of attention from the man n his quirt. I'm ready for the break.

The man grabs my collar from behind, pulls me back onto his chest n dick, says we're doin good but he's gotta show his guys we're gettin punished -- otherwise just puttin us on their gig to punish us might look weird n make trouble with his crew, who're proud to do this for a living.

The guys on the crew have seen us take our initiation (Chapter 3), then saw us get nailed on the job yesterday (Chapter 6) n win the floggin show last night (Chapter 7). They act friendly, impressed that us privileged gladiators wanna learn REAL slave labour, wanna work with the real big dawgs. Lots of hands-on attention. Damn! These guys are real big, n their hands are real hard. Back to work. This is fun. The regular guys think so too, so they're pleased me n Darren do. They tell us we'll meet in their site trailer at lunch.

It's also damn hard work, n the overseer keeps workin real hard on us, so I'm real ready for lunch. Maybe not for meetin the big dawgs in their site trailer. But Darren looks down with the day too.


We follow the crew through the lunch line, grab ours, follow em to the trailer. Door closes behind us. Shades all drawn. Eat up quick. Slug a coffee.

Overseer sizes us two up. Says, "Y'all're runnin backs. WE'RE the line. But y'all'll turn your sorry scrawny asses out for football practice. Darren today, right after you get run back to the barracks. Report straight to the field. Don't shower." He knows I'm tied up with Pete. "Today y'all become the littlest big dawgs."

Overseer says we're permanent on his crew so we get screwed to the floor. He says the Boss says to limit the damage, so we'll get ONLY six cane hits n one fuck. There're 10 big dawgs, so five big dawgs for me, five for Darren. One will fuck, two will facefuck, two will gave three canecuts each. One facefuck for the canecuts, one for the fuck.

Everybody's jocks off. Overseer asks which dicks we want where. Everybody's hard, even me n Darren. Big dawgs have big log dicks. They all look WAY too big for me -- so do the cane-swingin arms n shoulders -- but Darren (damn!) looks admirin, hungry. I brace, snap, "Sir! You're the boss, Sir!"

Somebody wraps a sweaty jock (mine?) twice around my eyes, for a blindfold. I get bent across the table, head n mouth on one side, butt n hole on the other. I hear feel smell Darren on my left side. My foot finds his. I find n squeeze his hand, then grab the table. I flex, tense, relax my calves, quads, hamstrings, glutes. Overseer says, "Stay down. Don't bite no dick."

Dick into mouth first. Dick's owner holds my forehead up n back down for the first three canecuts. I hate suckin dick, so this swallowin dick would be real bad except that I'm distracted worse at the other end. Lube or something on the dick feels warm, like some Thai or Indian curry but not hot like peppers.

Big hard hands grab my hamstrings, work from my hard glutes down to my tense calves, maybe to relax me, maybe to hold me in place. It helps, feels kewl. I'd say "thanks" if I could talk around the dick. If I could breathe around it n past the big man's body over my nose. Try to breathe not panic.

The first cane cut slices hide then glutes, hurts like BLOODY HELL, fires everything! I work to keep my back core glutes hamstrings shoulders tight, ready. I work hard to breathe around that log drivin in n out of my throat -- mostly when it's out so the torso's not on my nose.

I work DAMN hard not to bite. Dick-owner tells cane-swinger that I bit. "Just two extra." If I'm good. I get fuckin lockjaw holdin my jaws apart. Try not to panic about breathin.

Cut number two, number three, number four. The usual delayed, cascading reaction that starts with not believing what just happened, how deep it hurts, how much it hurts all over. Finally cut number five.

Gettin caned's easier standin, jackknifin tits into quads, better body sense, better control. (How fuckin weird am I -- favourite position to get caned!)

Men change positions. Different hands feel good. But same lockjaw around same dick. Another three IMPOSSIBLE canecuts on top of the 41 !*! since this time yesterday. Cut number six! Each cut fires all 41 old cuts, then 42, then 43 on the way to a total 44 -- yesterday's three dozen, today's six plus the extra two. Slice hide glutes. Burn through hide, burn through glutes. Focus on head neck back hamstrings calves.

My throat must work the man's dick just right, cuz it shoots down me with the last cut. He says the scrawny punk (me) did good, didn't bite again.

I get to breathe without no dick. Get to drop my neck forward to relax it. Man slaps my butt hard. Again! Palms, knuckles grind my back shoulders glutes. I stay down n enjoy breathin. Butt n back slaps.

Men change positions. Different hands feel good. Bigger hot-lubed dick in my mouth don't. "Stay down, boy." Dick number two rams my mouth n throat, torso number two covers my nose.

Changes at the back too. Two slimy fingers punch into my hole. It feels warm, which is kewl. Biggest dick follows. Big dawg's big body wraps my legs butt back. Punches into each of the 44 cane cuts. Change from the cane, could feel kewl, hurts different. Dick in throat shoots same time as dick in hole. Same time as mine. Mouth dick pulls out. Both dickowners collapse on me.

Dickowners get off me, big hands n arms stand me up, take off my jockstrap blindfold, probably sweatier now. Hugs (yesterday's caned butt, caned tits, flogged pecs, flogged back all fire).

Back slaps. Butt slaps. "Welcome to the big dawgs! Y'all took it REAL good. Good as Pete did. Good as Mr Hardwicke n Mr Whitmore (the owners) did. Yeah. Ever'body IMPORTANT gets initiated. Y'all gonna do REAL good here. Too bad y'all's other two guys're too scrawny."

So Darren n I are big dawgs. Wish everything hurt less, but I'm proud. Try to stand tall. Try to stand. Remember to breathe. Wonder what's happened to my two scrawny slaves, Luke n Jamie, n the two apprentices, Mario n Sparky.

I enjoy breathing again. Overseer says, "Y'all split this beer to wash the sweat n come outa y'all's mouths. We'd offer you more, have a few ourselves, but y'all gonna work real hard, real good, startin about NOW."

Jocks on. Out the door. Man helps me walk to the portapotty. Makes me clean my hands, dick, hole. That alcohol burn.


We do more haulin up scaffolds and down into the excavation. It feels better to move. I'm gonna feel real good tonight.

Damn! Tonight's with Pete. He's just arrived, runnin Ape n the Aces out for their site training. He grins at me whenever we pass. The grin reminds me I spend tonight, tomorrow, n tomorrow night with him while Luke gets over gettin tattooed n cut (circumcised), so he'll look like the rest of us gladiators. Reminds me Pete's pissed off about me n Darren gettin him punished with us for our race up the scaffold.

After Pete's oriented Ape n the Aces, he takes Luke n Jamie's quirts, hands em to the Aces. This afternoon we haul the heating ventilating air-conditioning (HVAC) gear into place. The Aces are pros. Luke n Jamie kinda grin when their quirts get handed off. Pete lets the Aces practise the quirts (ouch! especially tits n balls). Then he shows the Aces where the stuff comes from, where it goes, then tucks in his quirt n joins the crew.

The HVAC gear's big, awkward, n heavy, especially to lift it into place n hold it while it gets installed. The Aces show us how, make DAMN sure we learn just right. They're out of shape n slack ass but they got this down. Got us down too. Damn quirts.

At the afternoon break, Pete brings Luke n Ape by before Luke runs Ape back to get skinned. Pete hands Luke his quirt, goes over the directions. Luke gets tattooed, too, to look like a gladiator.

"Thanks for doin this for us gladiators, Punk," me, Darren, n Jamie tell him. We all give him a hug, pat his blacksnaked butt. I grind my pecs tits balls into his. He hugs me, smiles, grinds back. Darren n me (but not Jamie, his brother), give his balls n dick a good-luck squeeze. Luke don't flinch. He'll make a real gladiator.

Luke looks like he'll enjoy the run more'n Ape, who's just gettin skinned.


At the end of the shift, the overseer tells us we get to rerun yesterday's half-hour of scaffold races, but this time hauling two bricks a trip in a pouch slung right shoulder to left hip. Stack em neatly at the top on each run for the first 15 minutes, bring two back each run for the next 15. Leave a brick up top at the end n get hurt. Drop a brick n get hurt REAL bad.

The guy with the most clean climbs in 30 minutes sets the standard. Every guy short of the standard gets a titbite, buttbite. n ballbite with quirt n with tawse for each one short (that's six!). I gotta win this race, but I'm not sure I'll enjoy it, especially not having to stop to handle bricks at the bottom n the top.

We each move to a scaffold ladder, pouch on, pallet of bricks nearby. So's an overseer. When he asks what I need to keep me in the race, I tell him he's the pro, Sir, please use whatever wherever keeps me movin. Quirt? Sir, yes, Sir!. Tawse? Sir, yes, Sir!. Cane? Sir, yes, Sir!. He can't offer bullwhip, though, not enough room. I try to look sorry. His tawse flicks my balls.

We load the first two bricks. I practise stackin em, glad I got to handle some on the job today. "On your marks." We move to the ladders, one foot up. The whistle. Go. Fuck! Darren's back down reloadin before me. I get to the top ahead of Jamie, watch how he handles his next pair. Gotta stack em so we can grab em to haul back down. I got a chance. I match Darren on the next couple runs. Me n Darren tied after what feels like forever, so shake hands, get just a few bites each. I hurt inside n out. Sounds WAY ugly for the other guys. They gotta feel WAY worse.

Easy run back for me. Darren n Sparky lead, me n Mario next. We all stay in step, stay on the one-minute per block pace. But we hear Jamie's quirt workin the Aces. Pete meets us for ball n titbites. Darren heads to football practice.


Quick shower, deodorant, clean jock. Indoors so no sunscreen. Jamie n me stopped to see Luke in the clinic before dinner. Even with the very sore dick, he n his fresh name tattoos -- left shoulder back n front, dick shaft -- looked real buff, just like he wanted. Like a gladiator. He's eager to try his skinned dick on me. Yeah.

Then it's my night with Pete.

Everybody in the mess hall knows him. Without his shorts n overseer's shirt, he gets lots of hands-on attention. He introduces me to more of the guys. I remember the faces n the hands-on right away. All the names can take a while. (These guys don't have Marine nametags, don't have gladiator name tattoos.) Then the gym. With Pete.


Pete's a power-lifter. Shows in his wide, deep shoulders chest arms butt legs. That's why he can't beat my speed at high reps. So he says tonight I can just train along, then let him flog n fuck me easy. Or I can compete n get it worse when I lose.

Nobody just flogs me. Nobody just fucks me. I gotta compete.

One-rep max. After a warmup circuit, we start bench press. Just the 45-pound bar and a pair of 45-pound weights. I match his one rep at 135 pounds. Add two 25-pounders, 185 pounds total. I'm in. Back in the Marines, I ran a couple 'muscle marathons,' where you bench your body weight after the 26-odd mile run. Swap the 25s for another pair of 45s. It damn near ruptures me but I just match him at 225., just get my elbows straight, don't drop the bar. (The trainer n his tawse help but my tits n pecs don't think so.) The next pair of 25s break me, even with the cane on my tits n pecs, tawse on my balls. Trainers can beat me but can't beat Pete's size advantage. N he has trainers who know him workin him.

Pete says we can just train from here, n I just get the flogger. Or I raise my bet. I gotta keep tryin. He says I'll hurt worse here in the gym AND back in his cell. Yeah.

Overhead press. He takes me. Trainers can beat me but not Pete's size advantage. Biceps curl. He takes me. Same through back raises (lying prone, lift the barbell to your chest). Same with squats.

Shower. Pete says don't bother with deodorant. Jock. His cell. His turn.


He says, pick up some snacks n beers in the lounge, then head up to his cell. He's programmed the door to open when I flex my RFID chip.

Jock stays on at first. He grabs my collar, pulls me back against his hard body, hard dick, says it's all kewl. I ask Pete why every man grabs me that way. "Cuz you feel SO kewl, feel as kewl as you look."

Play, he says, get acquainted, not revenge. We're gonna work together for a LONG time. (Don't he know it's six months?) Remember to breathe deep n easy.

Looks like he has three or four cells made into one room. No bachelor pad, and it has the regulation two-man mattress near the door. But the far end has an office (couple chairs, desk, bookshelves, file shelf, phone, laptop, iPad).

The middle of the room looks ugly -- weight bench, pullup or chinup bar out from the wall into the room, weights -- all kewl -- but then cuffs hangin from the pullup bar, padded sawhorse, some hooks with canes, flogger, tawses, quirts, bullwhip. "Just the Boss n Mr Whitmore get blacksnakes."

"Boss says not to hurt you any worse. No cane, no bullwhip, just quirt tawse flogger. Just an easy friendly fuck."

He says we'll use my warmup, my buzz. That way we both enjoy it. "Sir! Yes, Sir!" Beer each, quick snack.

He starts me in the front-leaning rest position -- the top end of a pushup (pressup). Says to drop, hold just off the floor, straight like a bridge. Tells me to hold for the tawse on the butt, just a dozen -- more if I break the bridge or touch body or dick to floor. I drop, dick touches after about 10. Back into position for the two plus six more. Shoulders arms pecs core glutes legs all feel kewl. Butt hurts. Split a beer.

Dick n balls over the jock waistband -- why I kept it. Do that back bridge again, arms overhead, hands on floor, hold for quirt. 12 ballbites, more if I break. I practised this last night at the flogging show. I hold for the 12, take the 12, smile at him. Balls hurt, bridge feels good.

Split a beer. Quick snack.

Special pullups. Wide grip. Pull to arms at 90 degrees (upper arms straight out to the side, forearms vertical). Hold. Raise legs 90 degrees (straight out). Try not to squeezed flogged balls. Hold for flogger -- chest (Pete's forearm swing), then back (backhand swing). Pullup n leg raise feel very kewl. Flogger slams, hurts, makes its funny impact -- hard but spread, no one thing gets cut like a cane or bullwhip. Release.

Enjoy the hang. Not the flogger's impact. Enjoy the way my biceps shoulders pecs abs feel after, not the way my chest n tits feel. (Well, maybe, a little. Cuz I'm, buzzed.) Repeat. I make the 12. Feel buzzed. He holds my balls while I lick up my spunk. So I shot on him. He shot on me, feeds that to me.

A beer each, quick snack.

Use my buzz for my fuck. Pete puts a towel over his desk. Bends me over it, rubs my back shoulders arms glutes hamstrings, digs knuckles into back shoulders arms glutes hamstrings, slaps my abused butt. Makes sure I'm comfortable, both heads. Licks my crack to the hole. Hope we don't kiss. Takes my balls easy, little squeezes. Dick, tits too. Lubed fingers open my hole. That same lube that makes my hole feel like it's eatin Malay curry.

Slips it in sexy, works it. I'm not into this, but he's the best so far. I am buzzed. His powerlifter hands n muscles work my abused body, who likes this. I feel, smell his muscular body on mine. Fuck! This feels good, even better'n Luke.

We move together, shoot together. Fires EVERYthing again, second time today. Third time - twice this morning. Man gotta work me then flog me then fuck me.

Pete just holds on, friendly, intimate.

I wanna zone.

Then he damn near carries me to the bed. Lies on his back. Pulls me onto him, tits to tits, balls to balls, works my neck shoulders arms back glutes. Damn! Tawses my glutes. Not hard this time, just sexy. I'm SO not into this? Second big bang of the evening. He lets me zone. This powerlifter, stud overseer cuddles me!

He explains that the hot lube don't just feel kewl. It lubes to ease skin damage in tight sensitive spots. It's a disinfectant for any little tears or scratches, so everything heals quicker. We want our punks healthy. 'Sir! Thank you, Sir!" I lick his off his dick.

Another beer each, snacks.

He gooses me upright. "Time to get you to work."

Then he stands me up. Another hug. Another snack. Then he slaps my butt n sits me down hard on the chair in front of the computer. Time to go to work.


He said to start writin my story on the laptop. Sets down snacks, another beer. I start writin what y'all already read best part of a year ago (n probably forgot).

Like y'all read at the start of today's chapter, this took me through the first seven chapters - 1 rebuilding Darren through 7 last night's flogfest that I won. This is fuckin work, n it hurts to remember it almost as much as it hurts to sit on my caned hard butt on Pete's hard chair.


Then we relax, talk on Pete's bunk -- actually a double-size mattress or futon on the floor, like our beds.

He asks how my Hell Week's goin. His brother went through Hell Week in his frat at the state university. He says everybody does it, even Mr Hardwicke n Mr Whitmore did it, when they turned the company military. Guys respect what they work to join. Hardwicke Co makes the gladiators seem slackass. I hafta say it's like bootcamp with whips n fucks instead of rifles n grenades.

Still careful to say "rifle," not "gun" -- "This is my rifle; this is my gun. This one's for shooting; this one's for fun." Pete grabs at my gun.

While he feeds his hot-lubed gun to my face, he says I must be an indenture AND a slaveowner. He does the human resources stuff, so he set up the entries to pay a Marine Credit Union account with my name for my three guys plus the entries and credits towards my truck.

He says he's an indenture too, like most apprentices, like the kinesiologist, like the nurse-practitioner, even some of the Big Dawgs.

We all want a better deal than we can get outside -- and we belong to something we take pride in because we earned our places in it. Pete's finishing his three-year diploma in construction technology so has a six-year enlistment, er, indenture, for that, plus another four for a two-year management diploma. He has five down, five to go.

Cold shower. Brush teeth. Final beer each. I slept real well, powerlifter Pete holdin me real tight, inside n out.


Saturday morning started with another fuck, another Bang Cock fullbody mindblow. Unlike Luke, Pete didn't resurrect my dick to sit on it. But he says I'll have a chance in tonight's workout.

Pete n his well-flogged bareass crew -- me n my slaves Jamie n Darren, the apprentices, the Aces -- run to the jobsite again. My Luke n the Aces' former criminal mastermind Ape stay behind cuz they got skinned last night, n Luke got his gladiator name tattoos.

With Boss Big Dawg n another Big Dawg, me n Pete haul the exercise equipment into the gym at the project we're buildin. Start with the rubber floor mats, two foot by three. The gym's about 30 feet by sixty, so 1,800 square feet. Each mat's six feet, so we haul 300 plus another 30-odd for the corridors n spares. Each mat must weigh 30 kilos, 66 pounds. We try two each, one each, two per two guys. Still feels like the hands gonna fall off.

I like a challenge, don't much notice the quirt -- the overseer's workin too, n he's careful with what we're liftin n carryin. The 10 iron-frame machines are awkward but make a nice change. Finish with 200 weight plates! Break arrives finally.

We finish our site work early n run to the compound -- overseers Pete n Jamie with the quirts, me, Darren, n the apprentices work hard to stay in formation on pace, not to get ball-bitten (quirted) for runnin ahead, while we heard the Aces (the Ace Plumbing & Electric guys) puffin, stumblin, n gettin motivated (quirted) to keep movin.


Quick shower, deodorant, jock. After lunch, Pete sends me to check on Luke, with his new tats n sore dick. He looks okay, says he's kewl, no regrets except he can't fuck me. I remind him he does great blowjobs. He says, "Naw." He just wants to fuck me.

I gotta ask, "So how did your nice slave-gives-master-nice-blowjobs turn into slave-fucks-master-hard?"

"Well, MASTER, do you like givin blowjobs?"

"Fuck no! I only blow a man who's in charge of me and who's gonna hurt me real bad if I don't, like Jason or Mike back at the gladiators , or who'll do something important if I do, like pay Doc back for fixin Darren's leg last weekend (Chapter 2). Don't ask about my Big Dawg initiation yeaterday." I don't mention Pete.

"Kewl, MASTER ! I don't like givin blowjobs neither. It's my job as your punk slave to get you off, but it's more fun to get you off fuckin you, floggin you than swallowin your old-guy dick."

"Okay, punk, you show me every mornin that fuckin me gets me off. But how do YOU get me off floggin me? That works because I fight the Man. You ain't no man."

"Tell you what, MASTER. I'll bet you, dare you -- I get you off in under 36 hits with your tawse or you get your blowjob. Deal?"

Fuck! "Deal. How do you want me?" I REALLY was buzzed. Not awake.

"Lie on me, tits to tits, balls to balls, dick between my legs, next to my dick between your legs. Wrap your jock around your eyes twice, for a blindfold, pouch tucked in so I have your mouth. Count 'One, Sir, two, Sir ...'"

Fuck! Can't pass a dare, especially when I'm buzzed not awake. He lies on his back. I lie on him, like I did on Pete. He wraps one arm around me, grabs my dick with his thighs, puts HIS dick between my thighs, kisses me hard, starts rubbin my butt easy, slaps n kneads it, then slides the tawse over it easy, playful.

The first hit. "One, Sir! Two, Sir! ..." I zone on my chest to his, my pecs to his, my tits to his, my balls to his, not my dick in his hard muscular thighs, not on my butt under MY tawse. Can't ignore my dick. He fires at something like 10. Luke feeds me my spunk.

"Damn, punk. That's too easy. Your quads just grabbed my dick."

He says, "stand up."

I don't wanna move. My squeezed balls stand me up anyway. "Do that jackknife thing. Keep your balls n dick clear, between your spread legs."

It starts. "One, Sir! Two, Sir! ..." I zone on the body -- pecs, tits to quads, everything stretched, flexed. Dick's more awake than my big head. This time we get to maybe 25.

Big shoot. Luke don't let me stand up yet. Stayin flexed n stretched feels kewl. I open my eyes with his hand tight on my balls to lick up our spunk.

I croak, "Okay, punk. What's the trick?"

He rubs a few things -- hamstrings, butt, back, balls, pecs, tits, neck.


Then he reminds me how much I feel my body, how much I like to feel him (my body), need to feel him. Remember I'm the strong gladiator-trained stud that needs to be worked physically hard. That's why I'm a slave with him.

Fuck! Right! I got bored bein the slave-owner while the guys got to do all the work. That's why the floggin game with the man gets me off. My body wins n that's how he celebrates, blowin dick.


This kinda ends this week, the week I try out the stud slave thing and rent my three slaves to Hardwicke Co.

In a couple hours, this will all change. Maybe y'all see why it's taken me so long to get this written down --- okay, I Do better'n I remember, way better'n I write.



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