Worldwide Boy Gladiators Part 19

Worldwide Boy Gladiators Part 19
By istari

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This story contains scenes depicting sexual acts and various other extreme humiliations involving minor males. This story is intended for adult audiences only, and is a work of complete and total fiction. If you should not be reading things like this, then don't.

Comments are welcome and can be directed to
[email protected]
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Chapter 39:

Sao Paolo, Brasil.

It was early Sunday morning but twelve-year-old Joao Perriera had already been awake for several hours. Like many horny gay boys his age, he was watching replays of the past week's action on Gladiator Island from the comfort of the computer in his tiny bedroom. He loved the show, and had developed a rather strong crush on little Joshua. Gladiators was a hit with all the boys in his class, but for Joao, the show had a deeper meaning. It wasn't enough for him to just watch the action, he wanted to be a Gladiator himself. All of his deepest boyish fantasies, even before they became sexual as they had in recent months, involved him being bound and tormented in ever-increasingly harsh ways. He often dreamed of himself and Josh, naked and chained together and forced to have hot sweaty boy sex while hundreds of people watched and cheered.

As he sat at his computer this morning, wearing only a white t-shirt and stroking his ample four-and-one-half inch boner, he fantasized about being there, about pitting himself against the other boys and the harsh challenges they faced every day. The morning sun was shining in through his window, highlighting his beautiful berry-brown skin. The boy swirled his fingers lazily through the sparse patch of pubic hair above his hard throbbing cock. It was the only hair on his body, except for the long loose black curls on his head. With his left hand still on his cock, he reached down with is right and slowly squeezed his balls, they were quite large for a boy of only twelve and he'd lately learned to enjoy playing with them while he masturbated.

"Ohhh, Dios mio," he moaned in a soft voice that was just starting to crack and break. He was getting so close now. That clear stuff was oozing out of the tip of his cock. He didn't know what it was or why he made so much of it, but he knew when it started to come out that his milky white boy-spunk wouldn't be far behind. "Soooo, good," he gasped as he pulled off his shirt and curled his toes.

Just as he was about to go over the edge, his computer went 'Ding!' and told him he had a new email. Still stroking with one hand he clicked his mouse with the other. What he read made him shoot his load right then and there, several hard spasms of immature boy-seed shot out of his throbbing penis and splattered across his chest. Joao then sat there, staring at the email he'd just received as his cock slowly went flaccid between his smooth golden-brown legs.

'From: wbgrecruitment

To: hornyteen015

Dear Joao,

Thank you for your on-line application and the digital images you provided as requested. We believe you have the potential to be a Boy Gladiator and are considering you for a reserve position on the island. We will be sending a representative from Gladiator Island to interview you and your family in person. Please understand that if you are selected you will be required to sign an indenture of servitude for a period up to your sixteenth birthday. Compensation to you and your family will be negotiated at a later date. Thank you again for your application and congratulations. At present only one reserve position has been opened. Very few applicants have been selected for the personal interview phase and you are one of them. You should be proud. Keep watching the show and wait for our representative to contact you.

Sincerely,

Lara Tomlinson
Executive Producer WBG'

Joao quickly hit the print function and cleaned off the results of his latest orgasm while the page slowly inched its way out of his old printer. He put on his soccer shorts, didn't bother with a shirt, grabbed the letter and ran downstairs to show it to his parents.

"Mama, papa, I made it!" he shouted excitedly, flapping the paper in front of their astounded faces. "I'm in! I'm going to be a Gladiator!"

Across the ocean it was evening in South Africa. Sam Nguni was reading a similar email while his naked slave boy Pieter slowly and expertly sucked his cock for him. He letter was somewhat different from young Joao's in that it made specific mention of the Island's new Junior Trainer program in which they hoped he would be the first participant. That wasn't exactly what he'd applied for. He'd wanted to be one of the Gladiators, but, as the letter described this brand new element that would be introduced into the show in the coming months, Sammy got more and more excited. It was a perfect fit. He was already a master, good at handling slave boys, well, one slave boy at any rate. And he could take Piet with him. It would also probably end any arguments he might get from his parents. He wouldn't actually be a boy gladiator at all. No instead he'd be bossing around all the naked white boys on the island. Mom and dad couldn't argue with that now could they?

"Don't stop sucking 'til I say so," Sam growled at Piet, smacking the back of the slightly younger boy's head. Pieter had stopped to momentarily adjust his newly installed and very permanent cock-cage. It was very small, even for his small genitals, and very uncomfortable.

"Sorry, Shaka. It's just this cage is really bugging me."

"It's supposed to. Mom and dad are tired of you walking around the house with your stupid little white penis all hard and stiff. I am too. So from now on, that won't be happening anymore. As far as we're all concerned, you don't even have a dick anymore, so you might as well stop complaining about it. The cage is welded shut. I couldn't take it off even if I wanted to, which I don't. Just be happy I didn't let them cut your balls off. Mother and father wanted to, you know . . . so you totally owe me! Now start sucking. I was almost ready to cum when you stopped. If you do that to me again I'll beat you silly."

"Sorry, Shaka."

"You should be. I swear you whites get more uppity all the time. Maybe a good spanking will teach you some manners."

"Yes, Shaka."

"And stop calling me that. I'm your master, that's what you should be calling me from now on."

Piet mumbled another apology as he took Samuel's dripping erection into his mouth once more. A few moments later he felt the older boy's hand gently running through his blonde hair.

"I'm sorry I talked to you like that . . . ooooh, that's good . . . but you have to remember who's . . . ooooo, god, ooooo, keep doing that, yeah . . . remember who's in charge of you around here. Oh, fuck, here it comes, Piet. Swallow it! Swallow all of it!"

Piet did exactly that then fell back onto his butt and sat there cross-legged with his poor caged cock trying in vain to get hard and little dribbles of Sammy's cum running from the corners of his mouth.

"Damn you're good at that, Piet," Shaka said as he printed off the email and stood up. "Let's go show this to mom and dad." He attached a leash to Pieter's collar and led his naked slaveboy out onto the veranda where his parents were enjoying the warm Johanesburg evening. They had been angry when he first told them he'd applied to be a gladiator, but they figured their son would probably never get a response so they quickly let it pass. Shaka was now quite sure they'd approve of this new development, and it turned out, he was quite right.

Gladiator Island. Sunday Morning. Punishment Day.

Much to his own surprise, Chris had slept very well. He knew he was going to be one of this week's punishment victims, but at the ripe old age of thirteen he was already starting to get philosophical about things.

'They're gonna punish me anyway, so why get all worked up over it. I'm not gonna give them the satisfaction. Fuckers. I'll show them.'

And so with young teen bravado, he'd managed to fall asleep and stay that way for most of the night, awaking only when the insistent swelling within his cock-cage became unbearable. He was lying awake now, as the first light of dawn came through the barred and heavily screened window of the cell he shared with Alexei. The younger boy was still asleep, snoring softly. Chris rolled over onto his side, adjusted the metal cage that encased his teenaged cock and moved his hand slowly to his rear end. He pressed on the plug in his butt, then gently pulled on it.

"Mmm," the young teen moaned in satisfaction. 'Feels good to play with it like that,' he thought to himself as he slowly twisted the plug, rubbing it against his adolescent prostate. After just a few minutes of this he'd managed to turn the normal trickle of pre-cum that was always dribbling from his frustrated cock into a steady little stream.

"Hmmm . . . mmmm . . . oh, yeah," he whispered to himself in a throaty, almost manly voice. 'This is good. Wonder if I can make myself cum this way? Better not try it. I'm in enough trouble today as it is.'

Chris stood up and stretched his lean torso. Over the last several weeks the thirteen-year-old had learned to deal with the spikes on his cock-cage pressing relentlessly against his half-hard penis and the boy knew that if he busied himself with other thoughts, his morning erection would inevitably subside. After stretching he flexed his biceps, rather proud of how much they'd developed in just the short time he'd been a slave on Gladiator Island. Chris gazed down at his hairless body, even trimmer and leaner now than it had been when he'd first arrived.

'I really do look good,' he thought smugly as he examined his tight little six-pack and next flexed his smooth shapely calves. He tried to do several squat thrusts to stretch his young legs. That action of course promptly reminded him of the large latex plug currently nestled in his butt and he quickly stopped to avoid any further stimulation when he felt his cock slowly start to harden again. 'Walking, yeah walking always helps get me soft,' he mused as began his morning ritual of walking up and down the narrow aisle between his and Alexei's bed. The soft sound of his bare feet, still bandaged, against the cold smooth concrete floor was barely audible and young Alexei went right on sleeping.

'Wonder how late it is? They'll be waking us up soon. Then I'm gonna get punished . . . wonder what they're gonna do to me?'

Chris continued his walk until the morning klaxon sounded in the barracks and the guards unlocked the doors to the five identical cells.

"Everybody up and out," the morning sergeant barked. "Straighten your bunks. You all get enemas today, doctor's orders. Then shower and breakfast. Move your naked little butts!"

Still yawning, the ten boy gladiators quickly neatened their cells and presented themselves with their toes along the red line painted in front of their cell doors. Most all of them, except for Chris who'd been up for a while, and of course poor permanently bonerless Daniel, were obviously still struggling with morning erections in the snug confines of their chastity devices.

Chris immediately looked down the line to find Joshua, since he'd not seen him since yesterday's rather disastrous competition. To put it plainly, his younger brother looked like shit. The boy was pale and wobbly on his normally sturdy young legs and there was a distant glazed look in the eleven-year-old's expression that made Chris very worried.

'What did that guy do him last night?' the elder Andrews brother thought. He wanted to break out of line and go over to Josh, but he knew that was forbidden. The fact that they were brothers really meant increasingly little here. They were slaves. Boy Gladiators. They obeyed and they performed or they were punished. Simple. There was no quarter given for friendship or family or sympathy for a fellow competitor. Chris knew he'd be able to work his way over to Josh during their shower or maybe at breakfast, and so, for the moment, fearing for his brother more than for his own impending doom, he lowered his eyes to the floor and marched with the other boys into the showers.

The boys had not received a group enema since their earliest days on the island, but it would, at Doctor Trench's advice, become a once-weekly routine. All ten of them were soon on their hands and knees, their butt-plugs in their mouths for safe-keeping with ten thick black hoses sticking out of their ten cute boy-butts. The water started automatically, filling each boy with a predetermined amount suitable to his age and weight. All ten of the plucky young Gladiators were soon moaning and groaning and clawing their hands against the cold slick tiles.

"Keep those plugs in your mouths, boys," one of the guards was heard to say. "Get them nice and clean for us when we put them back in your little holes!"

All of the guards laughed. Had the matron been on duty this morning, she probably would not have allowed this latest humiliation, but she was not running the show this time and the boys were in for a rather rough few minutes as their tummies were filled to bloating.

"Hold it in!"

Soon the boys were growling and screeching and cramping. Two at a time they were allowed to run doubled over to the toilet to release the water from their bowels. As the designated punishment boys, Chris and Ian were made to wait until very last. Chris with his recently battered feet and Ian with his newly sprained ankle were a comical site shuffling and stumbling their way to the toilets.

All cleaned out, the boys bent over, pulled their butt-plugs out of their mouths and handed them to the guards to be reinserted into their rectums. Josh and Alexei had not managed to get theirs very clean, for which they would each be receiving demerits to start the new week. The boys were all allowed their Sunday luxury of a long warm shower. Chris managed it so that he occupied the showerhead next to Joshua. He noticed that his little brother was frantically scrubbing himself with the disinfectant soap, a behavior he'd never witnessed before. At eleven years old, Josh was still of the general opinion that showers and baths were a stupid waste of time, but obviously not today.

"You okay, Josh?" Chris asked as he went about soaking his head under the warm stream.

Josh was silent for a moment and would not look at him. Finally in a small voice he said, "I'm fine." "You sure? You look kinda messed up . . . "

"I don't wanna talk about it, k?" the younger boy said as he bent over to wash his legs with his bare hands.

"Okay. But . . . well, I mean I think I know what happened to you last night . . . "

"You don't know shit, Chris, so shut up," Josh hissed, his voice high and breaking with sudden emotion. When he raised his eyes to look at his brother, Chris could plainly see the tears forming within.

"Look, Josh, it happened to me too. Hell, it's gonna happen to every one of us here sooner or later, and you can bet it's gonna happen to you and me again. We're slaves now. They own us . . . " he gestured down helplessly to his caged cock and to Josh's impregnable chastity belt, " . . . every fuckin' inch of us. That's just part of what we've gotta deal with, so get over it."

"I don't know if I can," the eleven-year-old said, losing some of his earlier bravado. "I mean, how can they just . . . how can someone just do that to a kid . . . It ain't fair! I mean I didn't do nothin' wrong . . . he hurt me so bad, Chris . . . it really hurt . . . I wanted him to stop so much, but I didn't beg him, Chris . . . I think he wanted me to beg him, but I didn't . . . I ain't ever gonna beg . . . not ever."

Chris gave his brother a gentle smile and risked a little reassuring touch on his shoulder. If they were caught embracing, even for a moment it would mean trouble for both of them. "Get mad about it then, Joshie. If that's what helps . . . get mad and stay mad and kick some serious ass this week."

"Yeah . . . yeah . . .," Josh said, sniffling and wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He stood up as tall as he could and started to get that familiar look of defiance in his brown eyes once more. "They're never gonna make me beg . . . and . . . and no one on this fuckin' island is ever gonna make me cry again . . . and I am gonna totally kick ass . . . even yours if I have too!"

There at last was Josh's famous impish devilish little smile. Chris laughed. "Yeah, well we'll see about that, squirt. You've made promises like that before, and my ass is still here waiting!"

The brothers splashed water on each other for a moment then turned back to their own business of washing up.

"Hey, Chris," Josh offered as the water shut off and the boys formed up dripping wet to march to breakfast.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks, dude. You're the best big brother a guy could have."

After breakfast, the boys were once again assembled on the floor in front of the punishment wheel. The five youngest boys sat cross-legged in a single row in front. Behind them the five older lads were on their knees. They were an attractive sight with their lean hairless bodies, strong, healthy and tanned by the tropical sun. The boys' hair had started to grow out again after the initial shearing they'd all received when they arrived. That had been mostly for discipline and to immediately severe the boys from their old lives and identities, but from now on the common practice would be to keep the boy gladiators' hair on the longish side. It gave them all a wilder, tougher look that played well with audiences.

The boys fell silent immediately when Jason Sanbourne entered, followed by the other trainers.

"Another excellent week, boys," he said, standing in front of them with his hands at his hips. "Overall we are very pleased with your efforts. In general we are happy with your obedience and attitude. Some of you are still a little too aware of the cameras. We will start giving demerits for that this week if it continues. Also it has come to our attention that several of you boys have started playing with your butt-plugs at night. Pleasuring yourselves, in any way, is strictly forbidden. I will not single anyone out, yet, but the guilty boys know who they are," Jason's eyes rested briefly on young Chris. "This is your only warning. Your butt-plugs, like your chastity devices are strictly off limits to you. Any boy who is caught again will face severe discipline. Do I make myself clear?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" the ten boys shouted out in unison.

"Remember, we are always watching you, so don't think you're smarter than your trainers."

"Sir, yes, sir!" the boys again replied.

"Good. Now let's get on with today's business," Jason smiled, giving the wheel a preemptory spin. "Before we punish failure, we must first reward success. Boy Zero-Eight and Boy Zero-One, please stand up and step forward."

Illya and Miles, the two boys who occupied the extreme ends of the size spectrum amongst the Gladiators both quickly got to their feet. Little Miles barely came up to tall, sturdy Illya's chest as they stood side by side facing their fellow gladiators. The small cart containing candy-bars and other special treats was wheeled in place in front of them and they were both allowed to take their pick, enough to last them until the next week's judgment if they were frugal with their snacking.

"Zero-Eight, this is your second week in a row finishing in the top two. Congratulations. As a special reward, you will be allowed two hours today in the trainers' media room, where you can watch television or play video games."

Illya's eyes lit up, the only show of emotion he ever seemed to put on, and he quickly resumed his spot on the floor.

"Boy Zero-One," Jason continued, "you finished first this week, proving that even our littlest gladiator is tough as nails. You also won the marathon, one of our most important events. For your special reward . . ." Jason paused for effect and the boys all fell still and quiet again, "we will be flying your parents and brother to Gladiator Island for a full week. They will be given VIP treatment while they are here and you will be allowed to stay with them in their luxury suite."

"Wow!" Miles squeaked, almost jumping up and down with excitement. As the youngest boy, being away from his mom and dad was proving harder for him than the others. Homesickness left him with a constant ache. This was a special reward indeed. "That's awesome, sir! When are they coming? Are they coming soon?"

Jason smiled down at him. "We will need to arrange for their trip first, Zero-One, but we will let you know in plenty of time. You will continue training and competing with your fellow gladiators during the week they are here, so don't get too excited!"

"No, sir. Sorry, sir."

"You may sit down now."

"Oh, right. Yes, sir."

A very triumphant little ten-year-old sat back down, his face glowing and his grin stretching from ear to ear. Josh, seated cross-legged next to him nudged him in the ribs.

"Way to go, Miles. That's awesome."

The other boys all had similar words of happiness mixed with a touch of jealousy for the smallest boy gladiator.

Jason allowed the boys these few moments of unruly congratulations, then blew his whistle calling them all to attention once more.

"And now we come to this week's losers. We have a tie for last place, and we have decided that both boys will spin the wheel and they will both share each other's punishments."

Chris and Ian looked at one another and frowned. That seemed rather unfair, and unexpected. One punishment alone would surely be bad enough.

"Zero-Seven and Zero-Three. Stand up and step forward. Hands behind yours heads. No talking from either of you from this moment forward unless you are ordered to speak."

Swallowing hard the two boys clambered to their feet and took their positions in front of the ominous punishment wheel. For the first time, Chris could see the names of some of the punishments, some were straightforward, others cryptic, others meant to be humorous in a tongue-in-cheek sort of way.

"Zero-Seven, as the older boy, you will spin first. Good luck!"

Chris stepped forward, trying to keep himself from trembling in front of all the other boys and trainers. He grabbed the wheel as close to the top as he could reach and gave it a powerful spin using all of his thirteen-year-old muscle. Round and round it went, finally coming to rest on a red section with a silhouetted shape of a dog in the center.

Jason's smile instantly turned evil as he pulled the card from the wheel and handed it to Chris. "Turn and face your fellow gladiators and read them your punishment."

Chris did as ordered and with shaking hands read the horrifying words on printed on the card. "The Kennel. You will spend the next twenty-four hours in the . . . kennel . . . with the island's . . . ten vicious guard dogs. You will be one of their pack for the entire day."

Chris nearly lost control of his bladder as he read the card. Ever since he was small boy he'd had a fear of dogs, and the ones here on the island were huge and black with great muzzles filled with sharp angry teeth. Even the smallest of the creatures outweighed the one-hundred-and-five pound boy by at least twenty pounds.

'Oh, man . . . oh, man, this can't be happening . . . oh my god . . . oh my fuckin' god . . .'

"You and Zero-Three will share this punishment and it will start immediately after Zero-Three spins the wheel."

Ian timidly approached the wheel, looked up at its wide array of inventive and terrifying punishments and gave it the best spin he could. It made one-and-a-half rotations and came to rest on a picture of a see-saw. It was a last minute addition to the wheel, a punishment specifically designed to be shared by two unfortunate boys. Again Jason pulled the card and handed it over to the soon-to-be-punished boy. "Turn and read your punishment aloud."

"The See-Saw. You and another boy will sit on a special see-saw for twelve hours. You must keep it moving at all times."

That, on the surface, didn't sound all that bad, but both boys knew well enough that some devious and humiliatingly painful twist surely awaited them once their second punishment began.

"You two will ride the see-saw once your time among our friendly guard dogs has expired. Anthony, would you help me take these two away and prepare them for the pups."

"With pleasure," Anthony replied. He was still pissed at Ian for finishing last, and all too pleased to bring further torment to the cute, sexy little eleven-year-old under his control. He grabbed the boy by his collar and dragged him out of the barracks. Anthony had a particular taste for sadism and brutality and was surely the harshest of the male trainers. Little Ian lived in fear of him more often than not. As horrible as twenty-four hours with the dogs might be, for the young Aussie it at least meant a full day away from his cruel and wicked trainer.

Jason followed behind the huge black man and the small white boy at a quick pace, his right hand firmly clasped around Chris' upper arm, pulling the suddenly terrified young teen along with him.

"Sir, you don't understand, sir," Chris stammered and babbled, "I'm really afraid of dogs, sir. Ever since I got chased by one when I was little . . . I mean, I'm really scared, sir. Maybe I can spin the wheel again?"

Jason reached down and smacked the boy hard on the butt. "I told you no more talking, Zero-Seven. This is your punishment. If you keep whining like a little baby, I'll put you in diapers for rest of the month, would you like that?"

"Sir, no, sir!" Chris shouted, doing his best to regain his courage. The idea of being forced to wear a diaper was enough to make even twenty-four hours with the dogs seem a bit less horrible.

Another hard smack on his back side. "I said no talking, boy! Are you trying to make me mad today or what?"

Chris shook his head and lowered his eyes to the ground, always his sign to Jason that was ready to give up and behave himself again.

Once outside the chain-link fence of the kennel, the two boys were quickly prepared for the first part of their double punishment. Their iron gladiator collars were removed and replaced with thick leather ones, adorned with metal spikes, to match those worn by the dogs themselves. Each collar had an engraved ID tag hanging from the front ring, 'Chris' and 'Ian' they read. One of the rare occasions when the boys' first names were used in an official capacity.

Chris and Ian then had their hands placed into leather puppy-mitts, to ensure they had no effective use of their hands during the duration of their punishment. Chris stood stock still as his cock-cage was completely removed. Even the metal ring at the base of his genitals, which held the cage in place, was taken off. This took some effort as the boy's cock instantly became hard once it was freed of his constricting cage. Christopher's genitals had also grown somewhat larger due to the daily dose of drugs all the boys were being given, so it as a few painful moments of pinching and squeezing before the thirteen-year-old's smooth genitals were freed and completely unadorned for the first time in weeks. It was a rather odd feeling. Chris just stood there, his erect six-inch penis throbbing with need, driven to full hardness by his constant state of sexual frustration and the added effect of the sheer terror of the dogs awaiting him on the other side of the fence.

Ian was similarly freed of his chastity belt and the eleven-year-old too immediately sprang a stiff if rather small and still very boyish boner.

"No touching yourselves," Jason ordered, "or rubbing your cocks up against any of the other dogs or each other. Now bend over, both of you."

The boys complied and moaned plaintively as their butt-plugs were unceremoniously yanked from their rectums. If either boy thought this was meant to be a kindness, Anthony's next words quickly brought them back to the reality of being slaves on Gladiator Island.

"All of our dogs are males," he said with a rather smug look on his face. "You two boys get to be their bitches. They've all been specially trained to fuck little boys. Can't wait to see Lucifer over there," he pointed through the fence to the largest, blackest, most powerful looking dog either boy had ever seen, "ram his big cock up one of your little butts. Dog that size can fuck for hours!"

The two trainers shared a laugh just as young Danny came up running. The red-headed twelve-year-old was lugging a metal bucket in each arm. He quickly came to a stop and set his burdens down at the feet of the trainers. Aside from his collar, the boy was completely naked. His trainer, Calvin Mayfair, had decided that since for all practical purposes Danny was now castrated, there was really no need for a chastity belt. The effects of the boy's daily regimen of testroxil pills were now clearly visible. The boy's testicles had been shrunken to the size of little marbles and had retreated back into his body and his scrotal sack had tightened accordingly. His penis, rather small to begin with, was now just a little acorn-headed nubbin barely an inch long. It would, in weeks to come, get even smaller until nothing but the head itself would be visible. Curiously, the boy's lack of genitals only seemed to further accentuate his trim athletic musculature.

Jason nodded his silent approval at the results of the testroxil and Calvin's wise decision to let the boy run about with a chastity belt. There really was no need for it in young Danny's case. Chris and Ian stared at their fellow gladiator in that combination of sympathy and cruel self-absorption (better him than me) that only young boys can manage.

"Run along now, Zero-Five," Jason said, "unless you'd like to help us."

"Uh, sure," Danny replied.

"Spread the honey on them first, then do the peanut butter," Jason explained, for that was the contents of the two buckets Danny had carried up from the island's kitchen. "The honey goes everywhere but on their cocks and balls. That's what the peanut butter is for."

Danny smiled, rather liking the fun he was about to have. Chris and Ian shifted nervously from foot to foot and eyed their trainers dubiously.

"You see, boys," Jason said, "these are guard dogs, and the thing they've been trained to protect most . . . is you. They're trained to keep strangers or unauthorized personnel from getting into the barracks or getting too close to you during training or competitions. They are very disciplined creatures, which means if we just threw you two in there, they'd probably just ignore you. But dogs are crazy about honey and they go wild over peanut butter . . .once they get a taste of you, they won't be quite so shy. "

Young Danny's eyes danced and he smiled rather wickedly. He fondly remembered his own dog back home and how much the little beagle loved chunky peanut butter. "Hah! I'm sure glad I don't have a dick anymore," he giggled. "Those dogs are gonna looove you guys!"

Under strict orders not to talk, Chris and Ian just glared at Danny, a silent promise that they'd pay him back for that sometime soon. Danny went about his work, using a soft brush to apply the honey to his fellow gladiators' bodies. When the two hairless boys were a sweet and sticky mess from head to toe, he used his bare hands to scoop out a large amount of peanut butter and slathered it all over Chris' erect cock and dangling low-hanging balls. Chris moaned slightly when Danny's hands touched him down there.

"Don't you dare cum, Zero-Seven," Jason commanded, but Danny had already finished and was now applying an appropriately smaller amount of peanut butter to Ian's smaller, but equally turgid penis.

"Good job, Zero-Five. Take the rest back to the barracks. You boys can all have a snack."

Danny smiled, picked up the buckets, stuck his tongue out at the two unfortunate lads now covered in gooey dog-enticing food-stuffs and ran back to the barracks.

"Down on all fours," Anthony shouted. Chris and Ian quickly obeyed. "You'll stay that way until your time is up."

Jason unlocked the gate to the kennel.

"Crawl in there," Anthony said, kicking both boys in the butt to get them moving.

Side by side the two naked boys crawled into the kennel and heard the sound of heavy gate being closed and locked behind them. Instantly the dogs started barking and yammering and slowly moved forward to investigate the two newcomers. Chris actually peed himself on the spot, the scent of his adolescent urine only adding to the sensual stimulus their sudden presence was providing the ten powerful male canines. Almost immediately the boys were surrounded by the dogs and it was only a few moments later before several of the bolder members of the pack began licking the boys' peanut butter covered balls.

"Oh, shit!" Chris cried out as he trembled in panic.

"It's . . . it's okay, mate," Ian said to him. He had no particular phobia of dogs and was more concerned about one of the creatures accidentally taking a bite of his hard and presently very delicious penis. "They just want the peanut butter . . . ooooh," the boy squealed as a canine tongue lapped its way over and around his erect not quite four-inch boyhood. Soon all of the dogs were licking and nudging the two honey-coated boys, forcing them to finally roll over onto their backs so that the entire pack could get their fill. Their hot moist tongues were ticklish but relentless. In spite of his fear, Chris was soon giggling as the dogs licked every inch of his body clean, including his ticklish arm-pits and his adorable teen-boy feet. Ian was in a similar state next to him. One of the larger dogs was still working rather fiercely at the young eleven-year-old's cock, determined to get every last bit of peanut butter for himself. "Oh, wow! . . . ooooh, man, oooooo, yeeeeaah!" Ian's body went into sharp spasms as he lay on the ground having an orgasm. He shot his meager little amount of clear fluid onto his chest and tried desperately to scoot away but the dog followed him still licking and lapping at the boy's genitals.

After several more minutes, the boys had been well cleaned by the pack and the dogs seemed, for the moment, to lose interest in them. Chris and Ian stayed close together on their hands and knees, watching nervously as the dogs moved about in the kennel, not daring to move.

"I think if we maybe keep to ourselves, they'll leave us alone," Ian offered hopefully.

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," Chris stammered. But then he noticed one of the bigger dogs, the one Anthony had called Lucifer, slowly moving back toward them. He also noticed, for the first time in his life, the huge, long hard erect canine cock that was hanging between the dog's hind legs. Instinctively Chris crawled backwards, an unintentional sign of submission the sent Lucifer bolting forward. Before Chris could do anything but scream, the powerful dog was on him, literally. Thirteen-year-old Chris weighed one-hundred and five pounds at the moment. The four year old Lucifer weighed close to one-hundred and thirty and was all muscle and sinew. Chris felt the dog's huge heavy front paws on his back, and then the full weight of the great animal and its hot panting breath. Then he felt something else. Something big and impossibly hard pressing against his already loose and well-violated boyhole. The boy tried to clench up and resist, but there was no way the giant canine was going to be denied.

'Oh no! Oh noooo! I'm gonna get fucked by a dog!'

Close by, another of the eager canines, a younger but equally aggressive dog named Mephistopheles was clumsily, but effectively mounting eleven-year-old Ian, driving his large dog-cock into the pre-teen boy's tight little hole. Ian, who barely weighed eighty-five pounds had even less chance of fighting off the dog's wild rabid rutting than Chris did. Outside the razor-wire fence that surrounded the kennel, the camera team was getting some excellent live footage of the two unfortunate boys being savagely raped by the sexually ravenous dogs. The guards on duty kept a close eye on things, ready to intervene should the situation start to really get out of hand.

"Just settle in, guys," one of the guards said to the camera team. "Lucifer and Mephistopheles will be going at it for a while. Lucifer especially. Sometimes it's more than an hour before his knot goes down and he can pull out of the bitch . . . or the boy . . . same thing in this case, right?"

All the men had a good laugh. The boys' cries of shame and agony were probably heard all over the island as Lucifer and Mephistopheles frantically rammed their canine cocks into Chris' and Ian's butts, claiming their newfound bitches as their own.

For the rest of the boys, Sunday was proving to be their normal day of rest. Miles was allowed to make a special call home to tell his family about the good news of their upcoming visit. Danny and Josh went out to shoot hoops on the basketball court outside the barracks. The Russian boys, Alexei and Illya, sat down for their weekly game of chess. Teenagers Philippe and David basically planned to do absolutely nothing all day and Gabriel once again joined his idol Roger Bramley in the training center for another round of exercises and intense weight training. This was fast becoming a part of their established weekly routine, and young Gabe's firm sturdy muscles showed the benefit of Roger's experience as a professional athlete.

Among the boys and their trainers, Gabriel and Roger shared perhaps the most congenial relationship. Gabriel made no secret of his hero-worship of the former Manchester United star, and Roger for his part was rather pleased to have such a strong, athletic, and eager protégé under his charge. Alone amongst the male trainers, Roger generally preferred men and professed no particular sexual attraction to boys, but he did find Gabriel exceptionally cute and often found himself aroused when watching the naked twelve-year-old exert himself in training and in competition. He certainly entertained thoughts of making the boy suck his cock or using him for other sexual pleasures, but so far had resisted that temptation. Of course Roger was strict when necessary and cruel enough to his young gladiator when circumstances, or the cameras, demanded it, but his primary focus was to ensure that Gabriel was always in top physical and mental condition for whatever challenge might lie ahead.

"Give me ten more reps," Roger said as Gabriel worked his biceps with the free-weights, "then we'll chain you to the treadmill for a while."

"Yes, sir," Gabriel replied, already winded and sweaty but very much into his workout.

Roger smiled, pleased with the boy's endurance. He scanned the twelve-year-old's lean hairless body for a moment. Young Gabriel was all muscle, trim and fit. His proportions were still boyish, but he was beginning to develop into adolescence, and what a magnificent specimen of teenaged boyhood he would be. Roger allowed his eyes to pause at the boy's chastity-cage. Gabriel's cock, large for a boy of twelve, was currently half-hard within its tight unforgiving cage, a natural result of the young boy's exertions.

"How're you doing with that cage around your dick?" Roger asked him. "Finally getting used to it?"

"Sorta, sir. I mean it really sucks, not bein' able to get hard or wank-off when I want to, but I try not to think about it. I mean I signed the contract, right? Guess havin' my dick locked up all the time is just part of the deal if I want all that money."

Roger smiled as he helped the twelve-year-old gladiator onto the treadmill. "Arms above your head," he ordered in his typically firm authoritative manner. Gabriel immediately obeyed and was soon standing with his arms stretched above him attached with leather cuffs to chains dangling from the ceiling. Roger always made him run the treadmill like this, a technique meant to help improve the boy's balance and coordination. As Roger programmed the machine for a thirty-minute inclined run, he continued making small-talk with his boy gladiator. "You're leaking a lot of pre-cum lately. I'm thinking I might start having you milked once a week from now on. Draining your balls a bit more often will be good for you."

For his part, young Gabriel was well aware of the seemingly endless stream of sticky clear fluid that seemed to be constantly dribbling from his imprisoned penis.

"And I figure it is time I put a larger plug up your butt too. You're going to turn thirteen soon. We're going to have to keep a closer eye on that cock of yours. I've got them making a new chastity cage for you, an even tighter one with more and much sharper spikes."

Gabriel's shivered at the thought of extra milkings, an even nastier cock-cage, and an even larger butt-plug, but figured his trainer always knew best.

"Your time starts now," Roger said as he switched on the treadmill. "Thirty minutes."

The treadmill raised up to a ten-degree angle and started moving at a brisk speed, forcing Gabriel to move his sturdy legs at a good running pace. Roger left the boy and turned his own attentions to the rowing machine. Gabriel's small tight naked body was having a particularly arousing effect on him today, and he figured some good hard exercise would help disburse some his of his own pent-up sexual energy.

'Damn. Maybe I should just fuck his hot little ass and get it over with,' he thought as his hungry eyes continued to feast on the naked boy's smooth and flawless flesh. After about ten minutes, Roger just couldn't stand it any longer. He was tired of jerking off back in his own suite and Gabriel was just too adorable and sexy. He stood up and marched over to the treadmill.

Gabriel was panting hard against the steadily increasingly incline and speed, but handling this latest challenge very well. He smiled when Roger approached then looked on in surprise when his trainer turned off the treadmill and released his wrists from the leather straps. He felt Roger's firm hands on his bare shoulders.

"I've got to have that tight little ass of yours, boy," Roger said.

Gabriel trembled slightly but said nothing.

"But not here. Come with me." Attaching a chain to Gabriel's collar, Roger hurriedly pulled the boy along out of the training center and toward the administration building which housed all of the trainers' suites.

"I thought . . . I thought we weren't ever supposed to go here," Gabriel said, remembering their orders on their very first day about staying away from the main building.

"I can take you anywhere on this island I want to," Roger said, swatting the boy on the rump. Strictly speaking that statement was not entirely true. Roger was breaking established island protocol, but Gabriel did not know that and Roger wasn't about to go into all the details.

Moments later they were in Roger's suite. It was certainly more luxurious than the prison-like barracks Gabriel now called home, but it was rather Spartan, with few furnishings and mostly bare walls. The naked boy shivered a bit, already unaccustomed to air-conditioning after weeks in the sweltering barracks. Roger removed the chain from Gabriel's collar.

"You don't need that here. You don't need this here, either," he said, taking the key from his belt and removing the boy's cock-cage. Gabriel's cock sprang to its surprisingly thick five-inch hardness almost instantly. "Don't even think about touching it. Stay right there and don't move. Hands behind your head."

"Yes, sir," Gabriel stammered, his young heart pounding. He knew what was about to happen. It would be the first time Roger had done anything sexual with him. He swallowed hard, frightened that it would hurt and that he might end up crying in front of his hero.

Roger returned with a small cock-and-ball harness and quickly strapped it in place around the twelve-year-old English boy's genitals. "Seems to fit you. This will keep you from cumming. I want you hard and begging for it the whole time," Roger practically growled, increasingly overcome by his own lust.

"Well, that's definitely doing the trick, sir!" Gabriel replied.

Roger slapped the boy's face. "Cheeky little bastard. Get your ass into the bedroom, now!"

Afraid, but conditioned to obey his trainer without question, Gabriel scurried into the bedroom and resumed his standing position with his hands clasped behind his head. Roger stripped off his own clothes before joining the boy. It was the first time Gabriel had seen Roger Bramley naked, and the size of the man's hard cock was enough to make the boy gasp. He was sure there was no way anything so big could fit into his little butt.

Roger now stood directly in front of him. Gabriel looked up into his hero's eyes with a pleading expression.

"Don't give me that look, boy. I'm going to fuck you hard. You might even enjoy it. That's why I took the cage of your dick. Bend over and grab your ankles."

Gabriel obeyed. Roger started by giving the young gladiator a solid spanking. Ten hard swift swats to the boy's bare butt. Each one elicited a yelp of protest from the always feisty lad. Next, Gabriel felt Roger's hand back there tugging on the end of his butt-plug. After some initial resistance and a loud groan of protest from the boy, the latex plug slipped out easily enough. Roger handed it to Gabriel. "Lick it clean."

Having already been forced to do so earlier that morning, Gabriel put the plug into his mouth and hesitantly lapped off his own boyish ass-juices. He presented a spit-shined plug to Roger for the man's inspection.

"Good boy," Roger tussled the lad's hair. "Just toss it on the bed. Now, get down on your knees and suck my cock. The wetter you get it, the easier it'll be for you when I plow you with it."

Perhaps of all the island's boys, Gabriel had thus far had the fewest experiences of being forced into sexual acts with the trainers, the guests or the other gladiators. His cock-sucking skills were amateur at best, but Roger didn't seem to mind as the young boy closed his soft pink lips around the man's hard cock.

"Use your tongue, boy."

"Mmmpthh."

Gabe could only manage to take three of Roger's eight monstrous inches, but he was mindful of his trainer's warning and did his best to get Roger's cock as wet and slick with spit as he could. Roger was moaning softly and presently had both of his hands around Gabriel's head, keeping the boy in position.

Gabriel's own cock was still hard, standing out firmly from his hairless groin and throbbing with each rapid beat of his heart. The boy was aware of his erection and rather ashamed of it.

"Why is your little dick still hard? I thought you said you liked girls," Roger teased him, running his bare toes under the boy's dangling ball-sack. "Maybe you're a little faggot after all. Maybe you like sucking my big cock, huh?"

Gabriel shook his head 'no', but his trainer's logic did seem to be inescapable. Here he was sucking Roger Bramley's huge cock and his own penis was hopelessly desperately hard. It was all so confusing. Gabe's eyes watered.

"That's good enough for now. Get on the bed, on your hands and knees. I'm gonna fuck you like a little doggie."

The boy had barely gotten into position when he felt his trainer's hands close around his slim hips. He felt Roger's hardness pressing at his boy-hole. He sniffled softly and closed his eyes. Roger wasted no time, forcing his eight-inch cock into the twelve-year-old's butt with a single powerful thrust. Gabriel squealed and tried to thrash around, but Roger only tightened his vice-like grip on the boy's hips.

"Keep still! Just shut up and take it, boy," Roger hissed. "I'm so fuckin' horny it won't be long. Just take it, just . . . uuunggh, god, you're still so tight! . . . just take it . . . "

Gabriel clenched his fists into the sheets and closed his eyes. He was trying his level best not to make a sound, but Roger's thrusts were so forceful and so deep that the boy poor couldn't help but cry out and shriek as the man's cock assaulted his increasingly active twelve-year-old prostate. Soon, the pain began to subside as his body adapted to accept the invasion of his most private self. Gabriel's shrieks and cries gradually turned into high-pitched moans and whimpers. On his hands and knees, the boy was unable to touch his own dick or grind it against the mattress, and so his penis remained hard and dripping pre-cum and eager for an orgasm that just would not come.

Roger however, had no such problems, and after managing to make this moment last for a good fifteen minutes finally growled and gasped and with a final violent thrust shot his seed into the slave boy's bowels. Gabriel was now, by far, the youngest male Roger had ever fucked, and he decided that he very much liked the soft tight warmth of a young boy's hole.

"Wow," he breathed long and hard as his cock slowly softened inside Gabriel's butt. "You are one hell of a good fuck, Gabriel. We'll be doing this a lot more from now on."

Gabriel was still whimpering quietly, his twelve-year-old penis still rigid and aching for relief.

"Stay on your hands and knees. Don't move. Don't touch your dick," Roger ordered as he pulled out all the way and left the bed to get cleaned up. Staring back at Gabriel, he could see several trails of blood, semen, and brown ass-juices running down the insides of the boy's smooth thighs. The kid's balls were dangling plump and low in their silken hairless sack. Roger smiled. The boy was desperately horny, but no relief would be coming today. Roger returned moments later with a warm rag and quickly wiped the boy's butt and legs. Then, without warning, he forced the butt-plug back into Gabriel's rectum.

"Yeeowch!" the boy screamed, but it was mostly melodramatic and they both knew it.

"Off the bed, slave boy. Stand at attention."

Wordlessly, young Gabriel complied. His cock had finally showed signs of softening. Roger removed the cock-and-ball harness and applied the wet rag which had now gone cold. The boy's cock shrunk even further, soft enough now to once again be imprisoned within its little cage. Roger made quick work of this procedure, ensuring the boy did not have another opportunity to achieve an erection. The cage in place and secured with its brass padlock, Roger patted the boy on the head and once again attached the chain to his collar.

"Thanks for a great fuck, kid. I won't forget that one for a long time . . . and neither will you. Let's get you back to the barracks. You can take it easy the rest of the day. I'd say you've earned it."