The Flesh Trade, pt 6: Betrayal Betrayed
#6 of The Flesh Trade
This is part of a story series for Lupercus Whitewolf. This chapter deals with a gladiatorial match and some post-match "correction" for the loser by his trainer. This also progresses the story with a confrontation between Lupercus and Mason and a fateful erotic encounter between Mason and Roki that will decide the collie's fate forever.
"The Flesh Trade"
by, WolfHound Baxton
Part 6: Betrayal Betrayed
Lupercus stood in the stands of Servicorps' fighting pit. The caves each confining a combatant stood on each side of the arena floor. This arena was meant to train gladiator slaves, a popular sport in the Bastanian islands, a country with legalized slavery. Alan Baxter, the founder of Servicorps, had been an aid fan of the games ever since his arrival on Bastana. Unfortunately, professional gladiators mainly competed in the Great Arena of the dragon lord Xarius Augustine, unofficial dictator of Bastana. The matches could be quite violent and, in some cases, to the death. That couldn't be afforded now though, as Servicorps' supply of gladiator slaves was limited compared to those in Xarius' fold. Trainees especially were more protected.
For this reason the two caged combatangs had protective gear: a jockstrap and cup, kneepads, elbow-pads, and shoulderpads held on by a leather harness and belt. Aside from this, the gladiators were without clothes. Other than this, they wore their Servicorps electro-shock collars for discipline. Their Servicorps brands also were clearly visible on their chests.
Each gladiator slave had a trainer. Lupercus Whitewolf was the trainer of 648770 and Sergeant Benton was the coach of 248661..
Lupercus, a very toned and muscular white wolf, glared down at his slave in the pen. Lupercus was an intimidating sight, even with less clothes than was customary for a merc. He wore a black leather belt attached to a pair of very short, tight woodland camo shorts, tight enough to see his bulge. The rest of him was simply rippling manly muscle under short white fur, contained only by a camo H harness over his torso, from which hung a coiled whip, a crop, a close-range and long range taser, and a shock baton. His head was slowly growing a mane of long black hair, but he still wore a black beret with the red Servicorps logo on the front.
648770, the gladiator slave assigned to Lupercus for training, looked up at him apprehensively, more than a bit afraid of his Trainer, for the otter knew the price of losing, as the now permanent whip scars on his back testified.
Lupercus stared across the arena floor now to his opponent on the opposite side., the arctic fox Sergeant Benton., himself a bit of a narcissist. Lupercus stared right at the fox. He always knew in himself that wolves were meant to dominate non-wolves ... especially foxes. He didn't much like uppity foxes, that was for sure, and he was confident that his otter could best Benton's bear slave, 248661. The bear looked very slow and sluggish.
The bell rang!
248661 picked up his staff from the bench of his cage as the door swung open, 648770 doing likewise as they stepped from the cage and onto the sandy red floor of the arena.
The bear charged, aiming to plunge the end of his staff against the weasel's belly and groin.
The otter squeaked but reacted quickly, rolling out of the way of his attacker as the clumsy brutish bear-slave turned around slowly.
The fight continued on with a few more wheeling maneuvers, the big bear trying to swing or poke his staff at the slippery little otter as he each time darted out of the way, taunting his opponent.
Lupercus smiled. this gladiator had learned his lessons well. He was using the ability he had , speed, to counter his powerful but sluggish opponent. Sergeant Benton looked somewhat dismayed, beginning to grunt with exasperation each time his student missed the mark.
Finally, the otter hit the bear a lucky stroke in the legs.
The bear tripped and stumbled clumsily, falling on the sandy arena floor and rolling over on his back. The bear groaned with the scrapes and bruises of his fall as the otter straddled him now, pointing the end of his staff down at his opponent's throat.
"You surrender?," asked 648770.
The bear responded forcefully, slamming his knee upward and into the otter's groin, something the little one was certainly not anticipating.
The otter fell backwards, holding his groin and shrieking in pain. for although he was wearing a cub, the force of the blow had been so rough that it drive the cup into the otter's flesh around his sac.
The bear used this moment of disorientation to his advantage, grabbing the slippery fish-eater and forcing him to the sandy arena floor, both paws locked around the otter's, pinning him to the sand. There was no hope of escape with the heavy bear on top of him, snarling at him with his face inches away from the otter's. The match was over.
Sergeant Benton who, only moments ago had been ensnared with such frustration now clapped and snickered with glee.
"Beaten at your own game huh?, you slippery fishy boy."
"You just got lucky, fox,"said Lupercus, pointing one of his fingers at Benton as they both moved to the elevators down to the arena floor to collect their slaves.
"Or maybe I'm just the best," said Benton as he leashed the bear, who promptly scrambled up to his feet, but kept his head low and pointed to the ground. It was an odd sight to see a small fox leading around such a large and powerful fur as a bear, but a series of punishments and his training had kept 248661 in his place.
"Hardly," said Lupercus with a disdainful glare to the fox as he leashed the other, who also took a similar submissive pose to that of the bear.
"Still," said Benton. "You owe me lunch tomorrow at the Cafe Solaris over on Grande Island. Looking forward to my favorite 120 drachma cappuccino.
648770 groaned and whimpered in pain as the whip came down on his back yet again. The otter had long ago used up most of his yelps in the first fifty or so lashes with that cat of nine tails. His back was bleeding, whipped raw by the repeated cuts of the whip.
"117!"
"Whack!"
"118!"
"Whack!"
"119!"
"Whack!"
"120!"
"Whack!"
The otter yowled in pain one final time as the whip landed on his back. It was not unusual for gladiator slaves to be punished for their defeats, but 648770's punishment was particularly cruel. The brown otter slave had had his wrists cuffed to a whipping post and was given 120 lashes by his Trainer.
"I'm so sorry, Sir," said 648770, looking back at his Trainer who stood behind him, stretching his arm after a good flogging."I didn't mean to lose the match and humiliate you in front of Sir Benton."
"Long as you learn your lesson slave, and shape up and do better," said Lupercus, coiling the leather strips around the handle before replacing the cat back in the holster on his H harness.
The otter nodded and smiled as Lupercus released him from he whipping post and pushed him gently down to his knees. "Thank you, Sir," said the otter meekly, looking down to the white wolf's feet.
The wolf roughly grabbed the back of the slave's head and shoved it against the tight bulge of his camo shorts. "You'll do better thanking me in a more personal way, boy."
658770 yelped in mild surprise as his face was shoved into the muscular wolf's crotch. He deeply breathed in that scent, offering a little lick at the clearly defined bulge in the wolf's short camo shorts. It wasn't uncommon for the Trainers to use sexual means to control, discipline, and even reward the slaves. Of course, the otter's own dick was secured in a Servicorps electronically locking chastity cage. H would only ever get released if his Trainer decided he earned it, and that certainly wasn't often.
Lupercus undid his belt, loosening his pants and pulling them down slowly, revealing his sheath, the tip of his cock protruding from it, and baring his need.
The otter knew what was expected of him. This was one fish he swallowed often. He took the wolf's dick into hi muzzle and began to suck. Pleasuring his Trainer was the highlight of his day. Lupercus growled with satisfaction. The whipping had gotten him quite horny and how he was in the need for a release which it was the slave's duty to give him.
The otter slave looked up at his Trainer, their eyes meeting as that white lupine paw locked around the back of the otter's head, pressing him down, down as far as he could go.
The otter gagged and gurgled slightly, having that dick thrust into his throat was still not quite something he was used to, but he took it just the same, knowing what was expected of him,
Lupercus, on the other hand, panted and moaned with pleasure as he felt his dick encapsulated by that slave's tight throat and warm, wet mouth.
Finally, the wolf rested, his paw allowing the otter to pull back a bit.
648770 then began to bob once more, his paw reaching up to fondle Lupercus' balls as he sucked him, wriggling and writhing a well-practiced tongue over the wolf's red pulsing shaft as spurts of wolf pre filled his maw.
Soon, enough of this treatment swelled Lupercus' knot, a sign of more things to come.
Lupercus grabbed the slave's paw forcefully and pushed it to that knot. "Squeeze it while you work, bitch," he said. "Nice and gentle ... mmm ... nice and gentle.
The otter nodded a bit, dick still stuffing his muzzle as he pawed that knot.
Before to long, the otter was given his reward for his service.
Lupercus moaned and groaned, feeling himself coming close. He grabbed the slave's head with both paws and roughly thrust into his muzzle, taking him hard until finally being pushed over the edge, howling as he spewed a white hot load of seed into that otter-boy's mouth, a bit leaking out around his lips.
"Oh .. how very nice," said Mason in a mocking tone as he walked into the training room. "testing the merchandise before sale I see. Wanting to make sure it's all up to par?"
The border collie Mason, owner of Servicorps, the slave training company running this facility, was dressed in his suit as usual.
"That's not a problem, right?," he said. "We've done that here all along. After all, Colonel Baxter wrote in his slave breaking manuals that sexual use and abuse was key to breaking down a slave's barriers."
As they spoke, 648770 began to lick Lupercus' leaking dick, getting it nice and clean for him.
"Besides...," said Lupercus. "Everyone uses the slaves."
"Well I don't...," said Mason., "And that's because I'm asexual." The suited collie held his head high as he said that as if it somehow made him superior to everyone else in the world.
"And furthermore...," he continued. "I'll be having no more talk of the so-called 'Colonel' Alan Baxter. His employment for Servicorps has been terminated and he's gone missing ... good riddance I say. Incompetent wishy-washy fool!"
"Employment terminated? ... but you can't do that. This place was his vision, his baby. He invented this place and built it from the ground up while you sat on your ass... where's that fancy GPS slave collar you promised, or the electro-shock chastity cages? He was down here working his ass off with zero staff while you ..."
"Enough...," said Mason, waving his paw at Lupercus dismissively as if shooing a fly. "Legally, this place is mine, because I paid for it. Every last cent was my money ... and that's what counts. And furthermore! I say ... there's going to be some big changes around here now."
648770 mrred, finishing cleaning Lupercus' dick off. The wolf gave the otter's head a little pet and nodded at him. "Go wait outside, boy."
The otter slave learned down and gave his Trainer's feet a respectful kiss before crawling outside, his back still stinging from the flogging he had received.
"What kind of changes?," asked Lupercus.
"For one thing, there'll be no more usage of the slaves. It is displeasing to our customers and bad for morale," said Mason.
That's odd because I've never heard any complaints...," responded Lupercus.
"Furthermore, staff will be required to attend the weekly parties held in the private lounge on Saturday to boost morale ... or face pay reduction."
"You mean Roki's parties...," said Lupercus, a bit of a snarl coming into his face.
"That is correct," replied Mason.
In truth, not just anyone could attend Roki's parties. You either had to be part of Roki's elite group or, not only would you be denied entry, you would often find yourself spurned and ignored by those the creature Roki did allow in. this move could be nothing less than an attempt to "purify" Servicorps of people that Roki considered disloyal, or worse, downright boring.
"You know not just anyone can walk into those parties," said Lupercus, a bit of a snarl coming over his face as he eyed up Mason, now judging the collie differently, as potential prey ... After all, it was clear that this so-called "Owner had been reduced to nothing bot a tool and mouthpiece for his new Mistress ... or Master? It was impossible to tell which the creature Roki was. In fact, Lupercus could think of nobody who truly knew the sex of Roki.
Mason replied with a chortle-snort. "Anyone who's worthwhile can..."
"Anyone Roki decides is worthwhile...," responded Lupercus. Roki had actually gone to great lengths to never even look at him, let alone speak to him, ever since the creature had arrived.
"How dare you insult her! She who has done so much to further this company! The pinnacle of the community!"
"Whoa hold on there!," said Lupercus. "I didn't insult anybody. I just spoke the truth."
"You'd better shape up!," said Mason, pointing a finger at Lupercus, "or you're never getting into the staff parties."
"That's just fine by me!," said Lupercus. "I don't want into those stupid parties anyway. Lt of people prancing and jumping around in the most hideous costumes and shrieking out stupid jokes they heard on the internet. How is that fun and morale boosting... and what kind of drugs are you on?? ... You're not even allowed to bring slaves in either."
"Not true!," retorted Mason. "Kittie goes there all the time."
Lupercus groaned, "You mean 50515... very snotty ... poorly behaved."
"No, she's a person named Kittie...," replied Mason.
"I can't believe what I'm hearing," said Lupercus. "... slaves are not people. They are tools to be trained and used. That's a founding principle of this place."
"Most slaves are not people, that's for sure," said Mason. "But some very few are cool enough to be considered so."
"And who decides what's cool?," asked Lupercus.
"I...," began Mason. "I have no time for such foolish questions ... and oh ... I almost forgot. You are to stop using the arena facilities. They're scheduled for demolition to make way for new construction."
"What!? Why?," asked Lupercus, stunned.
"Nobody wants them! ... Nobody needs them!," responded Mason. In truth he meant that nobody in Roki's elite group wanted or needed the arena.
"And what about the gladiator slaves we've been training. You want us to just toss them out?," asked Lupercus.
"Not my problem. I have more important things to care about. Why don't you figure out what to do with them?"
"I'll find some use to put them to," said Lupercus. "Then I'll send you a full report.
"Oh don't even bother," said Mason again, giving that dismissive hand-wave once more and even looking slightly away from Lupercus, pointing his muzzle up a bit as he did. "Like I said, I have more important things to concern myself with."
Lupercus was shocked and enraged by this complete apathy. He took of his Servicorps beret and tossed it to the ground, kicking it away. "No thanks," said the wolf. "I'm done. I won't see this place torn up and torn down anymore. You do what you want, but I need to go my own way again ... and I'm buying 648770."
"Well that's fine," said Mason as he turned to leave the training building. "Just don't stick around too long on your way out,"
"Don't be so cocky, boy!," said Luprcus pointing a finger at Mason.
The collie's ears quivered and a bit of the fight seemed to leave him as he approached the door, looking back again.
"And don't think you're anyone special," continued Lupercus. "The same thing that happened to Astris, that happened to Col. Baxter ... it can happen to you, and will. Because someday your Mistress will find a new favorite. Someone more useful ... someone less boring. And when that time comes, I'll be waiting for you, ... boy."
Two years had passed since Lupercus had left Servicorps. Of course it was no longer called that anymore. It was now called Mysthome Sanctum and was the personal estate of Mason and Roki and their very few elite followers. The remains of Servicorps buildings lie in ruins around them, broken by whimsical structures here and there that Mason sometimes built to feed his own vanity and other times, more often than not, built at the behest of his lover Roki. An odd silence had fallen over the place since and the property was encased in a perpetual cold fog that defied explanation in the tropical island climate of Bastana. As for the slaves, nobody can be sure what happened to them except they were not freed or sold, but simply disappeared, perhaps so discarded and ignored that they died of neglect.
The disappearance of Servicorps was, of course, a great relief to Xarius Augustine, unofficial dictator of Bastana and Servicorps' main rival in the slave trade in these islands. But, as Xarius, the great dragon, looked northward from the balcony of his palace on Grande Island and saw the myst, a feeling of dread struck him in his gut, even he, the powerful and arrogant one. For he sensed in that mysterious cloud that had covered the nearby island a consuming evil, one not of this world, that could consume him as well. Xarius knew this well, for he carried a portion of this evil in his heart wherever he went. It was his friend and had brought him everything he had. That was how he knew to fear it.
"I have a present for you my dear," hissed the creature Roki in that strange, high-pitched androgynous voice, neither male nor female. The slimy white amphibian-like creature with pink stripes slithered up towards Mason as he enjoyed a cup of tea, looking back at Roki.
"Wh... what is it?," asked Mason.
"All in time, my little poppet," said Roki. "Before you get your present, you must do a sacrifice for me."
The creature Roki reached into the pocket of its vest and grabbed something slowly, pulling it out and waving it around a bit. It was a cruel long curved knife with a blade sharper than a razor and black as the darkest night. and a blood-red handle and ornate pommel in the shape of a skull. Roki stretched forth its clawed, slimy hand, holding the knife out for Mason to take.
He took the knife and began to cut himself across his arms, the bright fluid flowing from the cuts. "I bleed for you, my Lady," said Mason. "My blood for you."
Roki's slimy and long forked tongue flicked from its muzzle, tasting the scent of fresh blood in the air. "I so like fresh blood as a sacrifice my toy," said Roki.
"I only wish I could be like Kittie," said Mason, "And give all my blood for you my Lady."
"Yess," said Roki, its long striped tail twitching. "She gave all her blood for me. I can still taste her essence now ... it's so ..."
Roki leaned down, wiggling its tongue over Mason's cuts before slurping it down "... delicious."
"Yes Mistress," said Mason "but when do I get my surprise?"
"Why I think I have it...," said Roki, sticking its ugly scissorlike claws back into its pocket to fiddle around again.
"... right here."
Those claws pulled a strange, shimmering black egg-shaped object from its pocket.
"Oooh ... shiny," said Mason, putting his knife down.
"I know how much you like rubber, toy," said Roki. "Go ahead ... take it."
Mason eagerly grabbed the rubbery egg, fumbling around with it in his paws. "But ... what is it?,"
"A new life for you," said Roki. "The one you've always dreamed of."
Mason pushed the bottom of the egg with his thumb now and it exploded into a mass of dark black goo that covered him. It seemed to be alive, clinging to his body.
Mason squeaked, struggling in surprise as Roki stood up and came over to him, rubbing the collie's head with its claws gently as the goo spread over his body, encasing him completely except for his head.
"So this is it, huh?," asked Mason as the rubbery goo pulled his legs together, now gluing his arms to his side. It was amazing how the viscous fluid could adhere to him so tightly and yet cling to nothing else it touched.
"I'm really going to be your rubber puppet for life?," asked Mason with eager excitement and a touch of fear.
Roki grinned and then laughed at that suggest. "Oh ... not quite ... you see... I'm done with you... Yeah, I'm done."
"Wha... what?," asked Mason "N... no! Saveword! Nnngg!" He struggled fruitlessly in his binds as Roki just laughed.
"Playtime's over bitch," said the creature as the door to the office slowly opened and the fox, Sergeant Benton walked in with a gigantic grin on his muzzle. "You see ... I've already found a new favorite."
These were the last words that Roki ever directly spoke to mason, her lover. He was simply no longer worthy of her attention or recognition of even the most basic kind, for this is how the monster, known to this world as Roki, operated.
Benton smiled as one of those hideous scissored hands wrapped around his waist and he looked at Mason.
"It will be an excellent drone...,"
Mason tried to protest but his eyes crossed with confusion and frustration as the rubber entered his mouth, then his throat, gagging him. As he squirmed in shock, the sticky, squeaky fluid crept up and oer his head, covering him. Soon he was nothing but a blob og rubber, held captive, head and body fully covered, only able to breathe through tiny holes as he struggled to move or even breathe inside.
"I think not...," retorted Roki to Benton.
"Please take out the trash dear."
"The same thing that happened ... could happen to you, and will. Because someday your Mistress will find a new favorite. Someone more useful ... someone less boring. And when that day comes, I'll be waiting for you, ... boy."