Worldwide Boy Gladiators Part 5
By istari

copyright 2007 by istari, all rights reserved

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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.   Do not repost without permission of the author.

Comments are welcome and can be directed to istari_olias@yahoo.com
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Chapter 11:

David and Josh continued to run, gasping and panting and not daring to stop as their trainers drove them on across the tropical island. It was still early morning, but the air was already hot and sticky. Sweat was running down Josh's face, his hair was damp, in fact his entire eleven-year-old body was currently glistening with a thin sheen of boy-sweat. He had to run twice as hard as David to keep stride with the fourteen-year-old's long slim legs.

For his part, David would try to shorten his steps so Josh could keep pace, but invariably he would forget and pull ahead until the chain between the boys' collars was stretched as far as it would go. Josh would immediately stumble, sometimes falling and being dragged along for a few steps, sometimes taking David down with him leaving the two boys in a sore and sweaty heap of slender tangled limbs.

Riding behind them, their trainers would stop and wait for the boys to regain their feet, before forcing them on again. Josh had already earned ten more demerits for falling down five times. David had received four, which he thought was very unfair since it was the younger boy's stumbles that had tripped him up both times. The course was winding and uneven and led them through thickly forested areas of the island. The boys welcomed the shade whenever they passed beneath the trees, but it did little to cool things off.

"I'm getting tired," Josh said as he ran as fast as the chains between his ankles would allow. "How much longer are we gonna have to keep running?"

"I don't know," David answered, taking the young boy's arm and helping pull him along the dirt track. "Just keep your legs moving. I'm not going to drag you all over the island. And we're not getting any more demerits today, got it, mate?"

"Got it," Josh shouted. He'd already earned ten demerits for his erection this morning, now he'd accumulated ten more during the run. He did the math in his head as they came back out into the blazing tropical sunlight. "Fuck! I got like twenty demerits already!"

"Right, mate, and I've got six. I'm not going to be last at the end of the week."

"Me neither!"

Gladiator Island would have been considered small were it a sovereign Caribbean nation, as a privately owned estate however, it was exceptionally large. The marathon course used every square mile of it. Just over twenty-three miles, it wound through the tropical trees that shaded the center of the island and along the white sands of the beach, passing in sight of William Durand's private mansion at its northern most point, then winding back to the main competition area. At the halfway point, the boys circled the arena and ran inside, their trainers riding behind them on the four-wheeler. David and Josh made two circuits of the arena floor, looking up at the empty stands. In less than two weeks, those seats would be filled with rabid spectators who had paid top dollar to see ten naked boys enduring all manner of trials and torments and tests of endurance.

The boys ran outside again, starting the second half of their run, which would take them over the western side of the island, where hills and a rocky shoreline awaited them. Considering their youth, and their inexperience at long- distance running, David and Josh were making excellent time. Both boys were terrific athletes, but as the course became more challenging, the strain on their young bodies began to show. Josh especially began to struggle as their run entered its second hour.

"Come on, Josh, just keep running," David said, trying to sound encouraging. His own legs were burning.

Behind them, their trainers drove up close on their heels.

"Pick up your feet, boys," Hannah shouted at them. "I want those little butts moving. Speed up!" She accelerated a bit until she was almost on top of them. Afraid of being run over, the fourteen and eleven-year-old managed to find some extra energy.

After they'd covered about two more hard miles, Hannah blew a whistle and ordered them to stop. Michella clicked the stopwatch in her right hand and called them over to the four-wheeler. Sucking in air as fast as they could, the boys hurried back to their trainers. They stood there bent at their waists, hands on their knees, the chain between their collars swinging between them.

"Stand up straight," Michella said. "Hands behind your heads."

Each with a tired sigh, the boys obeyed. With critical eyes, the two women looked at the boys for a moment. Their young smooth bodies glistened with sweat from head to toe. Josh's blond hair was so damp now it had turned a dark brown. David looked as if he'd just stepped out of the swimming pool.

"Not bad, boys," Hannah said. She pulled two bottles of water out of a cooler behind her and tossed them to David and Josh. "Drink it slow," she warned them.

The boys twisted the caps and brought the bottles to their lips. It was so cold and they were so thirsty. It was hard to follow orders and not gulp it down, but both boys were experienced young athletes and knew the proper way to take in fluids.

"God that's cold," Josh said to his partner.

"Yeah, mate. I needed that."

"Thanks, ma'am," they both said to their trainers at once.

The two women smiled at their polite little boys.

"How are we doing, ma'am?" David asked softly.

Michella checked her stopwatch. "Just over one hour and ten minutes. Seeing as neither of you are runners, that's very good."

"How far have we run?" Josh asked between sips. The cold water felt so good in his mouth.

"You're at fourteen miles right now."

"Wow!" Josh said with wide eyes. "I never thought I could run that far."

Hannah smiled, somewhat wickedly. "Well good for you. But don't get cocky, little man. You've still got nine miles to go."

"That's enough water for now," Michella told them. The boys obediently handed back their bottles. "You'll get more later. Now stand still. You're both starting to get red. We don't want you sunburned on camera."

Hannah nodded her agreement. "We're going to put some tanning oil on you."

The trainers stepped off the four-wheeler and stood in front of their boys with bottles of oil in their hands. Hannah and Michella were about the same height. A good foot taller than David, and more than eighteen inches over young Joshua. They removed the chain that connected the boys' collars and let it fall to the ground.

Josh looked up at Hannah with a mixture of fear and determination. He wanted to win. He always won. He hated losing, especially to his brother. He was afraid of his trainer, and with good reason after spending a few hours with her in the training room the night before, but he also knew she was there to help him do his very best.

"I am going to push you, Zero-Two," she'd told him last night, just before Josh received his first whipping. "And you are going to take everything I give you. Most of the other boys are older and bigger and stronger than you are, but that is no excuse. I won't tolerate failure."

"Me neither," Josh had said, gritting his teeth as the first blow landed across his back. After letting out a loud scream he craned his neck back at her. "I hate losing."

"That's one thing we have in common then," Hannah had said.

Now she was gently applying the cool oil to his naked body. Her hands were a lot softer than he thought they'd be and she wasn't rough with him at all. "Put your arms at your sides." She covered his back and rubbed the oil over his shoulders. She gently massaged it into his chest. "You've got nice little muscles, Zero-Two."

He smiled up at her. As much as he was afraid of her, he also wanted her to like him. She worked slowly down over his stomach. Josh began to get a tingly feeling inside his chastity belt. He could feel his penis starting to swell up against the metal plate that kept his young genitals tightly constrained and permanently out of reach. As Hannah began working the oil into his thighs he could not help but let a soft moan of pleasure escape his lips.

Hannah laughed. "Is that horse-dick of yours trying to get hard in there?" she asked, tapping a finger against the metal covering.

"Yes, ma'am."

"You are a naughty boy, Zero-Two."

"Yes, ma'am," Josh said. He rather enjoyed the feelings he was having. His penis wanted to get hard, but it couldn't do it. It felt strange and intoxicating, knowing he couldn't touch himself. He was almost giddy. He wanted Hannah to keep touching his legs like that, but by now she was done. He sighed in disappointment.

"Don't worry, my little colt," Hannah told him, "you'll get a chance to exercise your cock when you get to medical this evening. Now, go over and sit down under that tree. You have ten minutes before you start running again."

Josh walked over to the tree, looking down at his body, which now had a fine sheen of oil on it. It seemed to really define his young muscles a lot more clearly. He liked the way it looked, and it had a nice scent too. He smiled at himself, and ran his right hand over the metal cover of his chastity belt. His penis had softened somewhat, but it was still all tingly. He sat down in the grass under the shade of the tree and crossed his legs. He looked up at the cloudless blue sky. It was really hot out here, but it was pretty. He wished he could go into the ocean. That would have been neat. He could hear the waves far off in the distance.

David came over a few minutes later. Josh could see that the older boy's penis was straining inside its cage, and the fourteen-year-old had the same dreamy look on his face that Josh had worn just a few moments earlier.

"You too, ay mate?" David asked as he folded his long legs under him and sat down.

"Yeah."

"It totally sucks not being allowed to have a boner," the young Aussie observed.

"Sure does, dude."

"I think those two are totally hot!" the fourteen-year-old said with a nervous giggle.

Josh shook his head. "I think they're scary."

"Yeah, yeah they're kinda scary too."

"I'm glad they let us stop," Josh admitted quietly. "I was getting really tired."

"I could tell."

"Oh, like you weren't."

David looked at him with friendly eyes. "Didn't mean anything by it, mate." He reached over and patted Josh on the leg. "I'm like three years older than you, right. Got longer legs, you know. This is easier for me. I think it's cool the way you just keep running. You got balls, mate."

"Yeah, I guess I kinda do, don't I?"

Hannah blew her whistle when their break was up. The two boys quickly got to their feet and once again stood at attention in front of the two young women.

"No more talking," Michella said as Hannah reattached the chain between the boys' collars. "You've got nine more miles to cover and we expect you to do it fast. We're going to be right on your little butts the whole way. If you slow down, you'll get the prod," she pulled the long stick from between the seats. "No breaks. If you have to piss, just go while you're running."

Again they heard Hannah's whistle, and the two boys started running just like before, with their trainers following close at their heels on the four-wheeler. They were the first pair on the course, and their trainers expected them to set a high standard. The four other pairs would follow before the day was over.

Meanwhile, back at the main production facility, William Durand was having breakfast with Jason Sanborne, and several members of the film crew, including the director, Michael Brussard, who had worked on most of XB1's earlier hits, including the still popular 'Enslaved.' Lara Tomlinsin, who was not due to arrive on the island for several days, was participating via video conference from the network's headquarters in New York.

"So, Bill," Lara said, now on a first name basis with her boss, "what do you think of our little project so far?"

"Simply brilliant, my dear," the experienced media mogul said, raising his glass to her. "The facilities here on the island are exceptional and the staff and crew could not be of higher quality."

"And the boys?"

"Marvelous. They're all adorable, and they're all muscular little gods. See that your team in recruitment receives an extra bonus for finding them. Any problems with the indentures?"

"None, sir. Every boy, or at least his parent's, signed up willingly. None of the families demanded more than the five million we offered them."

"So we are on budget."

"A little under, sir," Lara reported proudly.

"Very good. Now I believe you had a few other items on the agenda."

"I do, sir. Minor little details we should clarify before things go too much further."

"Such as?"

"Well, first and foremost we need to make sure that we all understand the safety limits we've put in place for the boys. They are company property and constitute a major investment in time and money." She looked primarily at Jason Sanborne as she spoke. As head trainer, overseeing the boys and ensuring that all the trainers and staff obeyed the rules was his responsibility.

"You don't have any reason for concern, Lara," Jason said, staring at her image on the screen.

"I'm sure I don't, but more than a few of our trainers may be a little too enthusiastic, if you know what I mean. I want to make sure we're all on the same page here. Aside from the obvious economic loss, we have to remember these boys are indentured. The ICSC in Geneva does have established guidelines regarding their general treatment and we are required under the law to follow them. Indentured boys don't have rights in the sense that free boys do, but there are certain protections that must be guaranteed. No mutilations. No blows to the head. No beatings outside of established punishment and discipline procedures. Humiliation in any and all forms is perfectly acceptable and encouraged, but the boys are not to suffer any lasting injury."

"I'm fully aware of the statutes, Lara," Jason said, "and so are my trainers. We've already had this discussion. No one wants to see these boys get hurt, at least not in that way." He shifted his gaze to William Durand. "We'll keep them safe, we'll keep them in top shape, and we'll keep them ready to compete every day. You have my word on that."

"Good enough for me. What else do you have for us, Lara?"

"Well, sir, I know we did not discuss this during our initial planning sessions, but we need to ensure some education for the boys. Their indentured status requires us to provide a maximum eight hours of schooling per week for the boys thirteen and older. Sixteen hours per week is required for those twelve and under. I've taken the liberty of hiring a tutor. He'll be arriving early next week, after the first weekend of competition is over. His qualifications are impeccable. We can easily adapt some space in the training facility for use as a classroom."

Durand nodded that this plan seemed prudent. The company had very wide latitude in dealing with their ten young slave boys, but there were internationally accepted rules that had to be respected. It was simply good business to do so.

"What do you think, Mike?" the XB1 chief asked, turning to the show's director after Lara had concluded her report.

"Gladiators is going to be a huge hit. I've already looked at some of the rough film we shot yesterday. The boys are incredibly cute, and they all photograph well. Some of them seem to be a little too aware of the camera. We'll have to train them to ignore us. We don't want the audience at home to get the mistaken impression that anything has been scripted, or that the boys are acting."

"Once we get into the competition, that should take care of itself," Jason said. "The boys will be much too busy to even notice the cameras are there. Are we going to allow them to be interviewed?"

"I'm not sure, Jason," Mike said. "I don't think we want people developing too close an attachment to these boys. We're going to be doing some rather awful things to them after all. The show could lose ratings if one or two of them develop into stars."

"I disagree, Mike," Durand said. "I think the viewers need to invest in these boys. The more they feel they know them, the more intense the show will become, especially once things really start to get difficult for our little gladiators. And if a few of them do become stars, so much the better. When we're not in competition, we can put the boys on public appearances all around the world."

"That's all good," the director said, "I'm just concerned that people will start to feel too much sympathy for them if they know them too well."

"I don't think we have much to worry about there, Mike," Lara said thoughtfully. "These boys were all champion athletes in their own sports. They're not used to losing. And you know how competitive boys this age can be. They all seem friendly with each other now, but once the stakes get higher, and the cost of losing becomes more and more painful, we'll start to see these boys turn into little animals. Trust me, they won't show any sympathy to each other, and I don't think the audience will show much for any of them."

"Alright. We'll include the interviews then. If nothing else it will give the audience a chance to see the boys' bodies close up. That should be worth a cheap thrill and a few extra points in the ratings."

"I'll be meeting with our marketing people tomorrow to begin getting teasers on the air," Durand explained. "Mike, can you pull together some footage for me?"

"No problem, boss."

"Excellent. I think we're going to have a big hit on our hands."

Back in the medical suite, Chris and Alexei were still attached to the milking machine. It had been almost forty- five minutes and the two boys were both sobbing quietly as the machine continued to stimulate their young prostates and coax more and more sperm from their testicles. Neither boy had achieved anything close to an orgasm and both of them remained hopelessly and helplessly aroused and frustrated and very embarrassed at being hooked to the machine, watching their milky white sperm flow through the clear plastic tubes.

Up until now, neither of the two young teens had even known it was possible to make a boy shoot his sperm without letting him ejaculate, but now they were experiencing it first hand. Christopher's balls were starting to ache, like someone had kicked him between his legs. His cock was still half-hard and it was hurting too, the way it did whenever he'd jerked off too much back home, even though he hadn't jerked off at all.

The plugs in their butts continued to vibrate at varying speeds, but the current that had run through the sheaths around their penises had been off for the last ten minutes. The boys' prostates were so overstimulated now that no stimulation of their penises was necessary to produce a continual flow of boyish fluid.

Chris felt his arms going weak and rested his head on the metal table. There he was with his butt up in the air, his big thirteen-year-old balls dangling loose and low between his hairless legs, his cock trapped inside the metal sheath. It was then that he noticed the cameraman for the first time.

'How long has he been in here?' he wondered to himself. He didn't like the idea of people seeing him like this, with that plug in his butt and his balls hanging down and everything else, but he knew he didn't have a choice anymore. Mostly he just wanted to get off that horrible table and as far away from that machine as possible.

After another five minutes, the fluid that was coming out of him started to turn clear. The machine made a loud noise and the suction increased dramatically, as did the electrical current being sent to the butt-plug.

"Oh, jeezus . . . " Chris groaned. He felt as if the machine was trying to suck him inside out. "Turn it off! Aaaaghh! Turn it off, please . . . !"

"You're almost done, Zero-Seven," the doctor said. "We just need to make sure you're dry. Just a few more minutes."

A few more minutes turned out to be more like twenty as the machine continued to pull the clear fluid from the poor kid's body. Finally, Chris achieved what amounted to a dry orgasm, just like the ones he barely remembered having when he was nine or ten. He gasped and felt all the muscles in his abdomen tense up. It hit him hard, but of course it was not the cum he wanted, just that intense agonizing tingling feeling that shook his entire body and was almost as painful as it was pleasurable. He let out an anguished sob and collapsed flat on his stomach.

"Stay on your hands and knees until you're told," Terri reprimanded him with a sharp swat to his behind.

With a tired groan Chris returned to the humiliating position, only to discover the camera was now pointed directly at his face, recording the tears that fell from his eyes. He wanted to reach out and slap it away, but he was afraid of what might happen to him if he did that. Instead he just put his head down on the table again and closed his eyes.

Next to him, Alexei, younger and less well endowed was nonetheless still producing an active flow of sperm. He was crying and begging them to stop the machine. Anna stroked the Russian boy's hair gently and spoke soft words of encouragement to him. It took another five minutes before he too experienced a shuddering dry orgasm.

The machine went silent. Doctor Trench cut the power. "Now lie still boys. We're going to get the sheaths off you and take your plugs out. I don't want to hear a word from either of you."

Chris felt Terri working between his legs, loosening the leather straps that held the cock-sheath in place. She pulled it off slowly, revealing the thirteen-year-old boy's now flaccid four-inch long penis.

"That's a good boy," she said, tenderly rubbing the backs of his thighs. "Keep it soft now."

"Yes, miss."

"I'm going to take the plug out of your butt now. Spread your legs a little wider."

Chris did as he was told.

"Take a few deep breaths for me, ok, and try to relax."

"Yes, miss," Chris said, his voice embarrassingly high and child-like at that moment. He took his breaths and felt Terri begin pulling on the end of the plug.

"Try to push it out. Not too hard . . . that's right . . . here it comes . . . "

"Aaaahhhh!" Chris cried as the plug came out of his butt with a loud slurp. One last glob of semen drooled out of his dick at the same moment and fell onto the metal table.

"Well, looks like we didn't get all of it after all," Terri said in an amused voice. "I won't tell the doctor if you won't."

"No, miss."

Terri disappeared for a moment and returned with a warm damp washcloth. She gently cleaned the young teenager's genitals. Chris sighed happily when the warm cloth touched his penis. He thought back to the last time that his mother had given him a bath when he was seven. How good it felt when she washed his little one-inch wienie. How he laughed and giggled and got a weird tingly feeling between his little legs. Of course he sprouted a little boner. His mother had smiled at him, ignoring the hard little stick between her son's legs. Since then, no one had washed his dick for him.

"That feels nice, miss," he whispered, resting his head on the table again.

"You're keeping it soft," Terri praised him. "Looks like you're starting to learn some self-control."

"Alright, boys," the doctor said, interrupting the pleasant ministrations, "we're going to take your temperatures now. Keep still."

Terri pulled a thermometer from the pocket of her lab coat and pushed it into Christopher's butt. Anna did the same for Alexei. It was icy cold. Chris shivered and let out a little yelp of protest. It was so embarrassing. He hadn't had his temperature taken this way since he was four years old.

"Rectal thermometers always give more accurate readings," Trench explained to the humiliated boys. "You'd better get used to it."

The thermometers were left in for about two minutes. Terri pulled it out quickly and read off the number. "Ninety-eight point nine degrees, doctor. He's a little warm."

"That's to be expected after a milking."

Alexei's temperature was ninety-nine degrees exactly.

"He's younger and smaller, so he's bound to be a little bit warmer," Trench explained to her young assistants. "Now, let's put their chastity devices back on."

The doctor helped Terri get the ring around Christopher's dangling genitals. "Measure his penis for me, dear, before we put the cage around it."

"Yes, doctor." Terri quickly grabbed a flexible ruler and began calling out numbers while the doctor recorded the data on her chart. "He's four inches long, just over one inch wide, girth is . . . nearly three inches."

"Good. We need to make sure he gets the proper dosage in his pills. We want his penis to be seven inches long before he turns fourteen. Can you get the cage on him without my help, dear?"

"I think so, doctor," Terri said with confidence.

"Excellent."

Terri did not have any problems with Chris at all. The boy remained perfectly still as the metal chastity device was once again placed around his penis. He could feel the ends of the spikes just pressing into the flesh of his boyhood. The device felt tighter than it did before, and he thought maybe they'd gotten mixed up and put Alexei's smaller cage on his much bigger dick. Terri seemed to notice the boy's concern and soothed him.

"Your penis is still a little swollen from the machine. It'll go back to normal in a few hours."

"Yes, miss."

The padlock was again fed through the hole in the post that held the device together. Chris heard it click with finality and he knew that once again his penis was locked up and off limits.

"Ladies," Doctor Trench announced, "we still need to select permanent anal-plugs for them, give them their pills and record the last of their measurements. We've got eight more boys to do today, so let's finish up."

They left the boys on the tables, still on their hands and knees, and followed the doctor over to a wall cabinet. Trench unlocked it and her young assistants surveyed the contents.

"Keeping a boy plugged, especially when his penis is locked in a chastity device, is a very effective method of control, ladies," she instructed them. "His prostate will be constantly stimulated, resulting in constant sexual arousal, which of course, the boy cannot possibly achieve. He will be much more obedient and much more focused on his required tasks. Terri, please select one for Zero-Seven. Anna, Karin, you will choose one for Zero-Four."

All of the plugs were metal, but the sizes varied greatly. Terri chose a very large and heavy one for Christopher.

"Are your sure, dear?" Trench asked. "That one is rather big for a boy his size."

"He'll get used to it, won't he?"

"Yes, but I am afraid we would damage him trying to get it in. Go down one size and you've got it."

Terri selected a slightly smaller plug, which met with the doctor's immediate approval. Anna and Karin chose one considerably smaller than that for Alexei. "He'll need a bigger one before too much longer," the doctor advised, "but that one is acceptable for a starter. Apply some lubricant and insert them into the boys' rectums. I'll make notes in their files that Zero-Seven has been given a size five plug, and Zero-Four has a size three."

The boys were not at all happy when they learned they would have butt-plugs inside them at all times. Alexei, whose butt was still very sore from the machine, started to cry and begged them not to do it. He received two demerits for his misbehavior. Chris stayed quiet while Terri began to force the large plug into his small thirteen-year-old boyhole. He gritted his teeth and grunted and finally had to let out a loud scream. The plug was only halfway in and it was tearing him painfully.

"Relax, boy," Terri warned him. "It has to go in and it's going in rather you like it or not."

Chris spread his legs even wider than before and tried to relax his muscles back there. Terri continued pushing and finally the plug slid inside him all the way until the base was snug against his butt. Chris' penis immediately swelled inside the chastity device, driving the spikes into his thickening tube of boyflesh.

"Get them up and get them on the scales," Doctor Trench ordered.

Chris and Alexei quickly discovered that walking with a metal plug up your butt was a rather uncomfortable prospect. Both boys pranced around for a moment, trying to get used to the sensation. The plug in thirteen-year-old Christopher's rectum was applying constant pressure to that special spot inside him. Every step he took resulted in a little massage on his teenaged prostate.

"How does the plug feel?" Terri asked him. She was truly curious, as she really had no experience in how young boy slaves were normally treated.

"It's ok, I guess," Chris answered honestly. The feelings he was having were becoming very confusing. It didn't hurt. In fact it felt kind of nice. "I feel all full up there. It's pushing on something inside me, that same spot the machine kept touching."

"That's your prostate."

Chris had heard Doctor Trench say that word, but he'd never heard it before and didn't really know what she'd been talking about.

"My what?"

"Your prostate. All males have them. It's a part of your reproductive system. It's a little gland up inside your butt."

"It feels weird."

Terri smiled as she put the boy on the scale and recorded his weight and height. "You're just starting puberty. A boy's prostate is especially sensitive at that age. When something touches it, it sends signals to your balls and your penis and gives you an erection. Your penis is trying to get hard right now, isn't it?"

"Just a little," Chris admitted. He could feel his dick swelling just bit inside the cage, not enough to feel the full bite of the spikes though.

"You'll probably stay like that for a few hours, but after a while you'll start to get used to having the plug inside you. It'll still feel weird, like you really need to cum, but it won't make your dick want to get hard all the time."

"Like the machine."

"Smart boy!" she said praising him as he stepped off the scale. "That's exactly how we made you cum without letting you ejaculate. I think the scientific term for it is prostatic orgasm. I'll have to ask the doctor about that though."

"That wasn't really fun," Chris said.

"It's not supposed to be. Your genitals aren't there for your pleasure. Now that you're a slave they're really pretty much useless. We just need to drain your balls every so often so you don't have health problems. There's no reason for a boy like you to ever have an orgasm."

"Ever?"

"When does your indenture expire?"

"Not 'til I'm sixteen," Chris said with a glum expression.

"Well then I guess you won't be having any until then," Terri said matter-of-factly. She then handed an index card with Chris' measurements to the doctor.

Allison Trench fed the information into the computer. "Well, Zero-Seven, you are about average height for a boy your age, and you are slightly underweight, but that is normal for a swimmer, am I right?"

"Yes, ma'am. I don't want to get above one-hundred-ten pounds. If I do it could really slow me down."

"You won't be gaining much weight while you're here, I can almost guarantee that," she told him. "But we do want to help you add some muscle."

"I'd like that, ma'am."

She walked over to the medicinal cabinet, looked over its contents for a moment, and returned with two bottles. She neatly wrote Chris' full name and number on them. "You'll be taking one dose of each every morning. Your trainer will administer them before you leave the barracks."

"What do they do, ma'am?" Chris asked, unable to pronounce the names of the two medications.

"The first is an endorphin/adrenaline booster. It will help your body use calories more efficiently. You'll build muscle faster, you'll have a lot more energy, and you won't tire out as much."

Chris wrinkled his nose and looked at her darkly. He was only thirteen but he was a serious athlete. "Isn't that like cheating? I mean . . . isn't stuff like that illegal?"

"Not for slaves. We can administer any drugs to you any time we want as long we don't allow you to become addicted. And it isn't cheating since all the other boys will be getting precise doses based on their age and physical development. Satisfied?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"This other one," she said, smiling rather amusedly, "is intended to force your pituitary gland to send more growth hormone to your penis. Your body will still grow at its normal rate, but your penis will grow a lot faster and a lot longer than it normally would."

"How . . . how big am I going to get?" the thirteen-year-old asked, looking down at his ample cock locked away in its metal cage.

"I'd say at least seven inches, soft," Trench replied with a smile. "We'll stop the dosages after that.

"Wow," Chris said. So, he'd be carrying around a huge seven- inch dick and not even be allowed to use it. That was definitely going to suck.

Alexei received his meds as well and the boys were ordered to take their first dose under the doctor's watchful eye. Chris was happy he didn't have any problems getting the pills down this time, unlike last night in the training room with Jason.

"You'll feel a little light-headed at first," the doctor explained, "and then you'll feel the adrenals kick in."

Christopher's head was just starting to spin when Jason and Natasha came for him and his twelve-year-old partner.

"Did they behave themselves?" Jason asked.

"For the most part," Doctor Trench replied. "Zero-Four gets two demerits for whining a little too much. Other than that they were obedient young men."

Natasha clapped Alexei on the back of the head. "You straighten up, boy. I won't have you finishing last the first week. The competition hasn't even started yet and you're already behind."

"Sorry, ma'am."

"Start acting your age or you will be."

Chris was happy he hadn't gotten any bad marks. He looked up at Jason and received a little private smile from him.

"Alright then, boys, lets go. We're going to the hippodrome to train you on the chariots."

The boys stood at attention, arms at their sides while their trainers locked the shackles around their wrists and ankles. The heavy chain was attached between the boys' collars once again and they were marched out of the medical suite. "When do you need to milk them again, doctor?" Natasha asked.

"We can go every two weeks with both of them to start."

"We'll work it into their training schedules."

"Good-bye, boys," the doctor said, her assistants smiling beside her. Neither Chris nor Alexei were looking forward to seeing them again.

Chapter 12:

Jason and Natasha led their boys outside. It was still morning but it was already hot and humid on Gladiator Island. The sky was cloudless and a beautiful shade of blue. Chris and Alexei marched silently in front of their trainers, chained together by their collars, naked, shackled and chained at their wrists and ankles, their genitals locked in the chastity devices, metal plugs stuffed in their butts. They were miserable and tired and yet, as they trudged forward in their chains, the pills they'd been given began to make them feel a bit more energetic.

"I didn't like that machine," Chris whispered to his new friend.

"Me neither," the twelve-year-old said. He still felt like he needed to cum, and the butt-plug was making it worse. He was a little bit jealous of Chris' much larger penis, but he did remember that he was the one who produced the most fluid, even though his balls were smaller too. He was kind of proud of that. "I beat you, you know . . ."

"Huh?"

"I made more stuff than you did."

Chris had noticed that, but didn't really think it meant all that much. "It probably wasn't sucking yours as hard as it was mine," the thirteen-year-old said, "I mean, mine's a lot bigger."

"Ok, boys, that's enough talking," Jason warned them.

Chris and Alexei quieted down right away. They walked past the arena, and along the outside of the grandstand that surrounded the swimming pool. They could see Illya and Ian standing at the edge of the pool with their trainers behind them giving them orders. The boys had been freed of their collars and shackles. Illya's chastity cage had been removed, allowing the hairless thirteen-year-old's exceptionally large penis to swing freely between his legs. Eleven-year-old Ian remained locked in his leather chastity belt, the metal cover tightly encasing his genitals, forcing his testicles up inside him and keeping his little dick permanently pointed straight down.

Turning his head to watch as they marched by, Chris saw Illya's trainer, Sergei, strap several lead weights around the boy's forearms and calves. Sergei was a tall, blond- haired nineteen-year-old Russian gymnast who looked remarkably like an older version of Illya. In fact, Sergei was Illya's older brother, something only Sergei, Illya, and Jason Sanborne happened to know. Ian's trainer, brown- skinned Anthony was applying similar weights to the little Australian boy's arms and legs and another set went around his waist.

"What are they doing, sir?" Chris asked, pointing in the direction of the pool.

"Water endurance, Zero-Seven. You'll get a chance to show me just how good a swimmer you really are later this afternoon."

With a loud splash Illya and Ian went into the water. Their challenge was to swim ten laps of the pool with nearly half their own weight attached to their bodies.

As Chris and Alexei approached the hippodrome, the saw Miles and Philippe leaving the building with their trainers. Fourteen-year-old Philippe was covered in dust and dirt and fresh bruises and looked like he was totally exhausted. His knee had been taped up in a rudimentary way and he was limping noticeably. Ten-year-old Miles was a lot cleaner and still full of energy. Chris wondered why they looked so different from each other.

They entered the hippodrome from a tunnel beneath the grandstand. The hard-packed dirt track was hot against the boys' bare feet. Their trainers led them across the track to the pavilion in the center. There were seven different chariots there, some larger some smaller, all of them with the XB1 logo painted on their sides.

Jason let the boys walk around and get familiar with the two-wheeled carts. Natasha went to make sure all the necessary equipment for the training session was in order. "Every chariot is a little different, boys," Jason explained. "You can see they come in different sizes, but they also have different weights. The big ones aren't always the heaviest."

The boys were standing in front of the largest one and together they pushed on it. It rolled rather easily and turned out to be quite light. They smiled at each other and moved on to the one right next to it. It was smaller, but much harder to get rolling.

"Today we're going to practice one driver, one pony."

Chris remembered the tour from yesterday. That Durand man had told them there wouldn't be any horses, that the boys would be pulling the chariots themselves. The reason for Philippe's dirty bruised appearance was now rather clear, as was little Mile's virtually spotless body.

"I'm the pony, right, sir?" Chris asked, staring at the line of chariots.

"Correct, Zero-Seven," Jason said as he removed the chain between their collars. Their shackles were taken off as well. "When you two compete as a team, you'll be pulling. Zero-Four will be driving. You're bigger than he his, and older, so it's your job."

"I will be driving?" Alexei asked, excited at the idea and also glad he wasn't the one who had to be the pony. That didn't sound like it would be a whole lot of fun.

"You're the driver. It's your job to control your pony and make him run as fast as he can. I'll teach you what you need to do. Now listen closely, Zero-Seven," Jason turned his gaze to Chris, "all you have to worry about is running fast and not falling down. You don't think. You don't talk. You don't do anything unless Zero-Four tells you. That starts right now. Hand me the bit, please, Natasha."

Natasha eagerly handed over a thick wooden bit wrapped in leather. Jason made Chris open his mouth and strapped it tightly in place behind the boy's head. "We'll get you harnessed and reined in a few minutes. Go out to the track and give me three laps. You need to get used to running on hot ground. I have a few instructions to give Zero-Four."

Chris looked at his twelve-year-old partner for just a moment then walked out of the pavilion and onto the track. It was hot on his feet, especially if he stayed in one place too long. He started running, and instantly felt the butt- plug inside him touching his special spot. His dick swelled up in the chastity device. It was really uncomfortable, every step sent a tingle though his body and the plug kept on pressing his insides. Chris decided he had to focus on just running around the track and not think about what was going on in his butt and between his legs. That proved easier said than done for a thirteen-year-old boy.

"Come over here, Zero-Four," Natasha said in Russian. Her twelve-year-old charge obeyed instantly. She freed his wrists from their shackles. The ones around his ankles remained. He was given a pair of thick leather gloves and told to put them on.

"Those will keep the reins from burning your hands," Jason explained.

Alexei put the gloves on and held out his hands while Natasha tightened the straps for him. The gloves had holes cut out for his fingers to stick through so he could still get a good solid grip. Natasha put kneepads on him, and then a set of elbow pads. "In case you fall off," she said. The boy watched as Jason rolled one of the chariots forward. It was black with red and white trim, the XB1 logo on the left side panel, the Roman numeral IV on the right side. The front and side panels all had handgrips on them wrapped in leather. The two wheels were made of some solid composite material, painted silver to look like metal. The chariot seemed to be just the right size for him.

"Climb up there, boy," Natasha ordered as Jason held it steady.

Alexei had to take a big step up to get onto the driver's platform. He found himself standing about eighteen inches off the ground. A few inches under five-feet tall, the twelve-year-old was suddenly eye-to-eye with his trainers. That was a rather good feeling. With Jason still holding the chariot steady, Alexei moved around a bit to test his balance.

"Pay attention, Zero-Four," Jason said. The boy stood straight and still. "Whenever you two race as a team, you're going to be the driver. Zero-Seven is your pony. That means you're in charge of him from the time you both enter the hippodrome until the competition is over. If he runs fast and obeys all your commands, you'll do well. If he runs slow and doesn't follow your lead, you'll lose. You need to make sure he always obeys, understand?"

Alexei nodded. "Da. I understand, sir."

"If he finishes last, you finish last," Natasha spoke to him in their native tongue, "and you both receive the same punishment. He has to do all the running and all the pulling, but you have to do all the thinking. You need to learn every inch of this track."

The twelve-year-old nodded. There was a look of serious concentration on his face. Natasha put a helmet on his head, styled like those worn by the charioteers of ancient times. Alexei was quite pleased with it and imagined he must indeed look like a boy gladiator. "I'm ready," he announced strongly.
Jason called Chris back to the pavilion after the boy finished his third lap. The young teen couldn't help but smile when he saw Alexei standing in the chariot with that funny helmet on his head. He wanted to tell his friend how silly he looked, but the bit in his mouth kept him from talking.

"Front and center, Zero-Seven," Jason ordered sharply.

Chris stood in front of the chariot, still looking up at Alexei.
"Time to put you in your harness," his trainer said. "Keep still."

Jason selected one of the specially-made harnesses and held it in front of the thirteen-year-old with a critical eye. "This one should fit you nice and snug," he said. The harness was made of leather and Chris thought it was rather heavy when it was first placed over his shoulders. Jason adjusted the wide shoulder straps, which came down to a central ring in the center of the boy's chest. The ring had another set of straps that went around his torso from front to back. Jason pulled these tight so the harness would not move around on Chris' body, but not so tight that the boy would have a hard time breathing once he started running. Next a thick leather belt went around the boy's waist and was pulled taut from behind. It rested just above the boy's slender hips.

"We're going to chain you to the chariot now, Zero-Seven. Face forward. Don't move unless you are told."

Chris turned around. His back was now to Alexei and he was standing about four feet from the chariot. He was between the two long wooden poles that extended from the front of the two-wheeled cart. He heard and felt but did not see a series of chains being fed through the various rings on his harness and belt and attached to the front of the chariot. The harness had four attachment points, two at the boy's shoulders and two in the center of his back. The belt around his waist had three more attachment points. After a few minutes of tugging and rather rough handling by his trainer, Chris found himself tightly secured to the cart.

"Pick up the hand-rails," Jason told him.

The thirteen-year-old saw that the two wooden poles had soft leather strips wrapped around them about six inches from their ends. He bent down and put his hands around the grips. The chariot rocked back slightly and as Chris stood up straight again, he felt just a hint of its weight for the very first time. This was not going to be easy.

"Now for the reins," Jason said. He attached two long leather straps to the ends of the bit in Christopher's mouth and handed them to Alexei. The twelve-year-old took them in his hands and looked down at his thirteen-year-old partner's back. Chris was bound so tightly to the chariot that it was impossible for him to turn around without getting his chains tangled. The reins were quite long. Alexei twisted each one around his hands to pull them taut. Chris could feel the gentle but insistent pressure forcing his head back.

"That's good, Zero-Four," Natasha said. "Pull his head back a bit more, keep his eyes forward."

Alexei tugged a little harder. Chris stood up as straight as he could and arched his back. Jason meanwhile connected a series of wires between the pony boy's belt and the chariot.

"Do you see that little button in front of you?" he asked Alexei.

The young Russian looked down and saw a tiny box mounted to the front of the chariot. It had a small black button on it. "Da. I see it."

"Push it."

Alexei had seen the wires being attached to Chris' belt. He had a good idea what would happen when he pushed that button. "I don't want to," he said softly.

"Of course you don't, malchik," Natasha told him, "but once the competition starts, you will."

Chris tightened his grip on the poles. "Just do it, Alexei. You're gonna have to anyway."

Alexei hovered his finger over the little button for a few seconds, then pushed it and held it down.

Chris jerked against the chains and shouted into his bit. The electrical current was muted by the leather against his skin, but it was still sharp and it hurt and it was getting stronger as Alexei held the button down. Desperate to make it stop, Chris pulled forward and moved the chariot several feet, groaning and shouting with every step. Jason and Natasha had to scramble out of the way to avoid being run over.

"Let it go!" Jason ordered. Alexei released the button right away. Chris stopped, dropped the poles and stood there whimpering and gasping and staring at his trainers in surprise. Jason ignored the older boy's distress and continued to focus his instruction on Alexei. "If he makes a mistake or moves too slow, use the button to motivate him. The longer you hold it down, the stronger the shock. He's not going to want to feel that too often, so he's going to try real hard, aren't you, Zero-Seven?"

Chris nodded rapidly and wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand.

"Get back in position," Jason ordered him. Thirteen-year-old Chris gripped the poles in his hands again and stood straight and still.

Jason continued the lesson. "When he's chained to the chariot, he should always be at attention awaiting your commands. Never let him drop the poles. If he does, you know what to do."

"Da," Alexei said. "I push the button."

"That's right. If we find you going easy on him, we can always chain you to the chariot instead."

Alexei shook his head and frowned. Up front, Chris smiled through his bit. He liked that idea a lot. It seemed very unfair that he should have to be the pony-boy every time, just because he was a year older and a little bit bigger. But he also knew this was a competition, and when it came to this particular event he and Alexei would win or lose together. He was stronger, and he knew he'd do a better job pulling the chariot than Alexei would. He tightened his grip on the poles and pulled the two-wheeled cart and its twelve- year-old pilot forward just a bit.

"Looks like the little horse is ready to run," Natasha observed.

"When you want him to start moving," Jason explained, "flick his reins. When you want him to stop, pull back hard. Pull left for a left turn, right for right."

Alexei was listening very carefully. He wanted to make sure he got this right.

"When you go into a turn, you can help him by shifting your weight the opposite direction. That will keep you from toppling over and make it easier for him to keep his speed up."

"How fast will we go, sir?" Alexei asked.

"A human being, on level ground, can usually make ten miles per hour, at a fast pace. Boys your age can go a little faster than that, for short periods anyway. Of course you and the chariot together weigh about a hundred-fifty pounds, plus his harness, belt and chains add another fifteen. Its not going to be the Kentucky Derby, that's for sure, but you boys are a lot more interesting than horses."

"The race may not be about who is fastest, malchik," Natasha told him in Russian. "Which driver controls his boy best . . . that is the winning team."

"Let's get them onto the track," Jason said, "and put Zero- Seven through his paces."

Alexei flicked the reins. Naked and harnessed, Chris grunted and pulled the chariot forward. Getting the thing moving seemed to be the hardest part.

"Take him out to the track, Zero-Four," Natasha told her young gladiator.

Alexei tugged the reins and Chris slowly turned the chariot to the right, leaving the shade of the pavilion and pulling it onto the hard-packed dirt track. The starting line was a long strip of white concrete in the dirt. He stopped with his toes just behind it. The surface of the track as he stood there chained to the chariot was blisteringly hot under his feet. More incentive to move his strong teenaged legs as fast as he could.

"It's three-quarters of a mile from the line. Four laps," Jason ordered. "Start off slowly until you get your balance."

Once again Alexei flicked the reins, harder this time, with a cry of "Let's go, Chris!" on his lips. Chris shuffled his feet for a moment to dig them in, then biting down hard on his bit and with a loud groan, he pulled the two-wheeled racing cart forward, picking up speed with each step. In spite of its weight, the boy discovered that the chariot rolled quite easily. He quickly figured out that if he leaned forward a bit it didn't take as much effort to keep his legs moving.

Balance was the hardest part for Alexei. Even on the long straight-aways, the chariot rocked forward and back with each of Christopher's steps. When they came to the first turn, the twelve-year-old pulled on the reins, but forgot to shift his weight. Chris stumbled and the cart nearly toppled over. Alexei uttered a curse in his native Russian and pulled back on the leather reins to slow Chris down.

As the boys were working out the kinks on their first lap, the camera crew arrived along with the director. They set up quickly in an open area along the south straightaway, eager to get their first footage of the cute naked thirteen-year- old harnessed and chained to the chariot, trudging along as fast as he could, while his equally nude twelve-year-old partner drove him forward.
Michael Brussard, a veteran of XB1's programming was quite pleased with what he saw. The older boy was struggling and straining, his young muscles were fantastic, and his perfectly smooth and hairless body glistened in the mid- morning sun. The look of determination on his face was one that would win audiences immediately. The smaller boy on the chariot was starting to get into his role as the older boy's master, pulling the reins hard when he needed to and shouting commands at the young teen in the harness as if he were merely an animal, which of course, legally speaking, he was.

"We'll put this in the teaser spot that airs tomorrow night," Brussard told his team. "Make sure you get their faces. Those expressions are priceless."
His two cameramen readily agreed. Brussard looked through his monitor at the filming in progress. "Looks great. The older boy is number Zero-Seven. Give me a close up . . . start at his feet and pan up, slowly . . . that's good . . . stop at his middle, let's see his cock locked up in the chastity cage . . . good . . . now pan up again, give me a few seconds on his abdomen . . . kid's got a six-pack I'd kill for . . . ok, now the face, closer . . . good . . . good . . . perfect."

Neither Chris nor Alexei were aware of the cameras as they went by. They were both so focused on their roles. After the first two laps, Alexei got a little braver, and Chris soon learned that his new friend was not going to hesitate to push the button whenever he did something wrong or slowed up to catch his breath. Chris shouted into his bit when the electrical current shocked him. It was just a short burst, but it got his attention.

"Move closer to the inside," Alexei ordered, pulling on the reins for the second time. "We go faster there, right?"

Chris groaned in agreement.

"And pay attention next time!" Alexei shouted at him.

Chris moved down the track and hugged the inside edge. They did finish their third and fourth laps in almost half the time of the first two.

"Good, boys, very good," Jason said as Alexei yanked hard on the reins and brought Chris to a stop. "You've got the hang of it already."

Natasha tossed Alexei a bottle of water. Jason loosened the strap that held Chris' bit in place and let it fall to the boy's chest. He held a bottle to the boy's lips.

"Just pour it over my head, sir," Chris said with a tired smile. It was still embarrassing, being naked and collared and all that, but this chariot thing was sort of fun in a weird kind of way. He felt proud knowing he could do it. He was really going fast on the straight parts of the track.

"Drink a bit first," Jason said returning the boy's grin.

Chris took five man-sized gulps. Jason obligingly followed the boy's request and poured the rest over the young teenager's head. Then he forced the bit back into Chris' mouth and tightened the straps from behind. He checked the harness and the belt to make sure they were still snug. "Okay, boys," he said, swatting Chris on the behind, "a full race will be fifteen laps. We want to see how you do on the full distance. Zero-Four, take him out. I want him running full speed the whole way, understood?"

Alexei smiled and nodded and rested his right hand over the button, just in case he needed to give Chris a reminder who was in charge. He flicked the reins and they took off again down the track.

Brussard and his crew filmed for a few more minutes, then they departed. The first boys would be coming in from the marathon course shortly and he wanted to be there to capture the exhaustion on their faces and film every inch of their bruised and sweaty and vulnerably naked bodies.