Rewards.

“It’s your turn gladiator.”

Nemis looked up from his mat. An old man was standing in the open doorway to his room while two guards were holding a boy his own age upright.

The boy was sparsely dressed, and his clothes were torn and dirty. His dark brown hair was sweaty and plastered to his face and his olive skin was scuffed and layered with sweat.

Nemis slowly stood, his confusion evident on his face. “My turn for what?” He looked at the boy who was more being held than standing on his own. The boy was pretty in a somehow familiar way, his cock was small, dangling gently over his hairless orbs. Nemis felt his own cock flinch with new life.

The old man grunted . “To use the pleasure ****. It is punishment for the ****, and pleasure for the gladiators. It is A rule of the house. The old man motioned with his hands and the guards moved the boy to the center of the room, dropping him near Nemis’ mat.

Nemis looked down at the nude form below him. The slim figure, smooth skin, and pretty features causing his cock to harden.

He then saw more of the scuffing on the boy’s skin. Kneeling down, he turned the boy over from his back and pushed him over onto his side, facing away from him.

The boy’s ass checks were red and irritated, bruising already beginning to appear on his hips from where many strong hands had held him as he was defiled. Nemis didn’t recognize the signs of the boy’s ****, however.

“What...what happened to him?” His eyes traveling from the soft curve of his back To the generous swell of his buttocks, a glistening trail of seed pouring from the crack, the hole hidden within.

The old man grunted. “He’s been fucked. Several times, starting with the most experienced gladiators and ending with you. Fuck him, so the guards can have their turn if they want it and then the boy can return to the house.”

Memos stared at the boy. Slowly, his hand found the boy’s soft ass and spread his cheeks. What he saw caused him to gasp.

A red, gaping hole was weeping seed every few seconds as the hole tried to close. Periodically, the hole would twitch and look as if it was winking.

“I...I will pass on this. Let him rest and recover.”

The old man blinked. “You don’t have a choice ****.”