By slavebladeboi
Part 1: The Boxer
It was only as I was passing the table in the hallway on my way down to the dungeon that I glanced down and noticed them. The slave was in the habit of buying me little presents from what remained of his allowance for running the Fireblade at the end of the month and on this occasion it had been a pair of black leather sparring gloves. I picked them up and looked at them. They had arrived in the post the previous morning and I often mused as to whether the postman wondered about the anonymous parcels that we received on a regular basis.