RELUCTANT GLADIATOR - Part Forty Five A story by Pete Brown (petebrownuk @ yahoo.com)
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
They moved us all into one room shortly after that, and there was a lot of joking about how we all looked, as we were so thin and all had scraggly beards - which Mike soon insisted we all shave off as he reckoned they weren't wasn't right for guys like us as we should look 'smart'.
The Canadian police came and interviewed us all as we were, technically, 'illegal aliens' who had breached immigration rules, but when they heard we were escaping slaves they assured us it would be OK as the law specifically gave sanctuary to anyone who made it across the border, and there was no chance of us being returned to the USA.
Two days later a different set of cops came and arrested me! I reckon they were lucky to get out of our room alive as the others were so angry at us being separated. And later that day at police headquarters I was charged under the Anti-Slavery Act!
There was a really nice, earnest kind of guy assigned to me as my attorney, provided by the state as I had no funds. He sat opposite me - I was cuffed into a chair as I was deemed to be 'dangerous' - shuffled some papers, and began "I'm afraid it's a very serious crime you are charged with, Mr Masters, and the penalties are severe - I might manage to argue the court down to as little as ten years, but you might expect up to twenty...."
"For illegal immigration? That's ridiculous.... They can send me back...."
"Mr Masters the immigration offence is trivial. You're charged with owning slaves, contrary to the Anti-Slavery Act. The penalties are severe, very severe, for slave owners. When the Act passed it almost killed tourism from the USA - well from many states, at least. No one who is a slave owner should ever admit it here, as you did."
"But they're not slaves...."
He ruffled the papers again and put some out in front of me on the table. "Here... The police had them sent from the USA. The transfer documents for two slaves known as Jamie and Luke, from a Gladiator School to Steven Masters. And the certificate of sale of another slave, Darren, to Steven Masters. The DNA material and photos that came with the documentation make it incontrovertible that you are the owner of those three slaves, and, indeed, you even confessed as much in your initial interview with the police...."
"Yes, but I was saving them... I won Jamie and Luke in a fight. Darren would have died if I hadn't bought him. Then there's Mike..."
"Ah yes, the escaped slave, from the mines..."
"I engineered his escape...."
"There's no problem with Mike: as a slave, whether escaped or not in the USA, he's automatically a free man here. So too are Jamie, Luke and Darren, or course. Your other companion was a free man anyway so he is only facing minor charges of infringement of the immigration laws, but we'll plead that he was acting as a humanitarian in helping the slaves flee, so I expect he'll walk away with no sentence."
"Well so was I helping them escape...."
"Quite so. And very commendably, most people would say. But that doesn't alter the fact that you are, from the evidence and by your own admission, a slave owner! And Canadian law deals harshly with slave owners."
"This is nonsensical! I help my slaves to escape, and now I'm going to be locked up..."
"Mr Masters, the situation may seem nonsensical, but the law is the law. Salve owning is a serious crime as far as the Canadian legal code is concerned, and our country is signatory to various international conventions under which we agree to punish slave owners when they are discovered." He looked at me again and continued "Look, don't give up hope! We're going to get you off - we'll plead exceptional and humanitarian circumstances, all that kind of thing. And one advantage you have in having me as your attorney rather than someone more experienced..."
"You mean you've not done this sort of case before....?" I shouted and leapt up from my chair, or, rather , tried to as the chains pulled me back.
"Calm yourself, Mr Masters. Listen, the reality is this: no experienced lawyer would take the case - the fees are being paid for by the state, as you're destitute, and they don't pay much. And the chances of winning conventionally are almost zero, and no one likes to have a reputation for losing cases. But none of that applies to me - I'm newly qualified so any fees are better than none, and I've not got a reputation to defend..."
"...and you've got no experience, no...."
"But I am enthusiastic, and very hard working, And I've got some ideas about winning that might just get you off."
"Such as....?"
"We can't win this conventionally. It's an open and shut case as you're guilty. But we can make it incredibly hard for the case ever to come to Court: the force of public opinion, Mr Masters.... We'll have the biggest campaign in the press, on the 'net, wherever, to 'free Steve'.
"So when can I get out of here? ...I want to see my buddies...."
"I'm afraid that won't be possible. Crimes under the Anti-Slavery Act are considered so heinous that the perpetrators are kept in solitary confinement. You'll have to stay here - or, rather, in jail, until we can get you freed by the Courts. And no visitors."
"But that's inhumane...."
"No more than owning slaves, some would say - no, some did say, those framing our laws, Mr Masters."
So that was it. They took me off to jail, and I didn't even have any opportunity of fulfilling some of the fantasies you read about with guys in jail - no sexy cell mates, no big black guys in the showers, nothing. I was in my cell almost twenty four hours per day, and the only break from the routine was the almost daily visits from my lawyer who kept telling me how well everything was going. Actually, I really wasn't sure about it at all as I thought he might simply be trying to keep me cheerful, and that in reality there was no progress at all. He also said that all my buddies were OK, but that he wasn't actually allowed to transmit messages to and from them - and that got me even more worried. I was determined not to get out of condition, though, and as there wasn't a lot else to do, I did squats, trunk curls, press-ups, and ran endlessly on the spot - after all, if what the guy was saying was actually true, I wanted to be in great shape for my reunion with Mike.
It took almost three months, with endless reports of 'fantastic progress' before the lawyer came in one day and shook my hand, saying casually 'You're out of here today. It worked."
"What?"
"My campaign. It worked. There's been the biggest ever 'write in' to the Prime Minister's Office, the newspapers have been flooded, two million signatures on a petition to the King..."
"Who?"
"The King Of England. He's notionally still head of state here." He looked like a puppy with two tales, wagging them both. "So they'll take you back to your cell to pack, a brief medical exam to make sure you've suffered no damage in here, and then you'll be released. But be warned - there'll be a feeding frenzy from the press when you go out of the gates...."
"I don't care, as long as my buddies are there..."
Even the guards seemed to be in a better mood for the rest of the day, smiling and congratulating me. And the medical orderly who checked me out ran his hands appreciatively over my body, telling me how good I looked. It was almost like being a gladiator again, having the trainers inspecting me.
As the gates opened I saw hundreds of people crowding outside, being held back behind police barricades. And there was the endless blinking of flash, big TV lights even though it was broad daylight, and all the other stuff of a media circus. Then Mike, Darren and Ryan came running up and threw their arms around me and we had a huge group hug, before the cops ushered us into a waiting limo and we sped off before there was trouble from the excited crowd.
As we settled back into the seats Ryan said "We're going to a secret location tonight, paid for by the campaign, so we can all catch up..."
"Campaign?"
"Yes. The 'Free Steve' campaign: your lawyer was fucking brilliant in getting it started, then it went viral and after that it was pandemonium all day - endless interviews with us, the story told and re-told about how you rescued Darren and Mike...."
"But where's Jamie and Luke?"
Ryan looked embarrassed and tried to turn away. Finally Mike said quietly "It's not their fault, Steve. Well, not Luke's, anyway. That Jamie was always a risk, if you ask me..."
"No he's not!", Darren shouted, then fell silent, looking very unhappy.
"What the fuck's going on? Will one of you tell me what's happened to the two of them?"
Ryan said calmly "Their dad, Tom, came here as soon as the news broke. Then he insisted Luke went off with him - it's the law here apparently: a guy is under the control of his father until he's eighteen. And they do mean control - when Luke refused, he threatened to call the cops and have Luke 'taken to a place of safety' away from the influence of 'evil men who were corrupting him', and he also threatened us with prosecution, as sex with an under eighteen is illegal here unlike south of the border. Luke said he had to go, to protect us."
"So what about Jamie?"
"That little shit...", Mike started, and I saw Darren rise in anger from the seat.
"Calm it, you two!", I snapped. "Come on, Darren, tell me what happened."
"He said he was bored with waiting. He said they'd never let you out and were wasting out time. He wanted to move on. You know Jamie, Steve - he's hot-tempered and always has had a low boredom threshold. He needs change, he needs excitement...."
"...and he 'needed' a sports car!", Mike added. "I told you, Steve, he's a little shit. His dad offered him a new sports car - not just a car - think of how few people now have them - but a sports car. The bastard actually drove past us as he left with his dad and Luke: bright red, open top...."
"I think he was only doing it to protect Luke", Darren ventured.
"Even you don't really believe that, do you?", Mike shouted. "And if it's true, why hasn't he contacted us to tell us how things are going, or to see how you are?"
"I'm sure there must be some explanation..." I knew it sounded lame, but I thought that even Jamie couldn't be that stupid. And it seemed better to sit in silence for the rest of the journey.
That night it was almost like old times - Mike and me in one bed, and Darren and Ryan in the other. I was so hungry for Mike that it was easy to ignore what Darren and Ryan were doing, as he and I kissed, stroked, caressed and then jerked each other off. Finally we lay there side by side, heads together, legs intertwined, and I rested my hand on Mike's lovely flat belly. "You've been working, I see..." I muttered.
"Yes. We thought it best to try to act normally, in spite of the media circus. So we did only one or to interviews a week, and the rest of the time we kept at it."
"So what's next?"
"I don't know, Steve. I guess you and me will go off, and Darren and Ryan.... And we'll find something to do.
"It will be a real let down after what all six of us went through, you know. Rather like the end of a big operation when we were in the marines, only worse."
"I know, Steve. But we need to give Ryan and Darren space - Ryan's making a big play for Darren now Jamie's out of the way.... "
I thought about it, snuggled closer to Mike and turned my head so that the intoxicating smell of his pits flooded my nostrils. I realised I'd missed him so much, and judging form the way his arm went around me, I reckon he'd missed me, too. I drifted into sleep trying to make some sort of plan, but it seemed beyond me.
As ever the morning brings new light and fresh thoughts, and it seemed to have been decided that we should stay on one more day in the hotel to allow the press time to divert to something else. So we all spent time in the gym and racing up and down the pool, and eventually I managed to find some quiet time with Darren.
"So what do you think happened with Jamie?", I asked as casually as I could.
"As I said, he's easily bored, likes excitement... He hated being stuck with no clear end in sight..."
"You two didn't quarrel then? I mean, you've been together for six years..."
"No way! But Jamie's so impetuous. And when his dad offered that car.... He wanted me to go with him, but I didn't want to break up the group...."
"So now you're with Ryan?"
"Yes. He's a great guy. Kind, considerate, a great body, really fantastic in bed, perfect, almost...."
"Except?"
"Except that he's not Jamie, Steve. He's everything I'd like Jamie to be, but he's not Jamie."
"So you don't want to be with Ryan?"
"Yes - he's great... No.... " Darren looked so desperate. "Steve, I want it like it used to be - me and Jamie, Ryan and Luke, and with me and Jamie sometimes 'playing' with Ryan..."
"We can't always set the clock back. But if you feel so strongly about Jamie, why didn't you go with him?"
"I suppose I wanted to. But his dad was really unfriendly to me as I reckon he knew what Jamie and me were to each other. And Jamie... Well, you know him... He doesn't like to admit to having 'feelings' so he couldn't say he wanted me to go with him... And then.... Well, you know him again - excitement is what he likes, and when that sports care was delivered...."
I nodded and all I could say was something lame like "Well hang in there -maybe it will feel better as time goes by, and, as you say, Ryan's a great guy to be with..." And I knew Darren was not convinced.
Later on I lay beside Ryan at the pool and casually asked how it was going. "Great!", he enthused. "It's fantastic to be with Darren. I was sometimes able to do a threesome with him and Jamie, but now I have him all the time...."
He sounded over-enthusiastic actually, so I casually asked "But...?"
"But it's not real, is it, Steve? He's only with me as he can't have Jamie."
"Well, give him time...."
"I don't want to be second best, Steve! I know I can't have him totally - not in the way that Luke wants me...."
I looked surprised and he went on "It's always been difficult, Steve. Luke really likes me, wants to be with me all the time. And I like him - I really do, he's a great guy. But he's a lot younger than me...."
"Is that a problem?"
"No, not really... Except, well... It's odd, a young guy like that wanting to be with an older guy - any older guy, actually: you and Mike know how he's mad keen for you to fuck him..."
"I think Luke's changed, Ryan. It's true that before you came on the scene he always wanted me and Mike, and Darren - his brother wouldn't have sex with him directly. I think he thought that being so close to us would make up for not really being all that much with his dad. I think that his father spent all his time focussed on Jamie and Jamie's problems as he really was so wild, and so Luke was a bit out in the cold. Then suddenly he's got Darren and Mike and me around - and you know what Mike's like: he just wants sex and will fuck anything, and here was Luke offering it. So Luke got a bit infatuated, then Mike got bored, and so when you came along naturally Luke latched on to you." I saw Ryan start to look really sad, so I went on "But then when he found out what a great guy you were and you spent time with him, he began to see you as a serious buddy, someone of his own, someone like he'd never had before. I reckon he likes you, Ryan, likes you seriously, if you know what I mean...."
Ryan nodded. "It's great to be with Darren of course, as we're a lot alike. But Luke's a whole lot more exciting, you know..."
"Yes, I do know." I smiled. Mike and me think he's very enthusiastic...."
"So what are we going to do, Steve? You and Mike are OK, but Darren misses Jamie terribly, and I guess I'd like to be with Luke again...."
I called Mike and Darren over then and we sat and talked about how we were going to live for the next few years at least, and finally it was agreed that we needed to at least see Jamie and Luke again to make sure they were OK, and to see if the 'novelty' of living with their dad again had worn off. Fortunately we still had some cash from where the guys had been working and from my discharge money from prison - they'd reluctantly agreed that it had been a bit unjust, and had given me some compensation - so we agreed to set out the following day for the coast to find Tom and the two guys - Darren remembered something being said about them living in Vancouver.
It was almost like a vacation for the guys - when we went from place to place to fight as gladiators it was often in small, cramped vans and buses and we never got a proper view. Then of course when we'd been moving around for work I'd travelled as a free man, on top, whereas they'd been confined to the slave compartments underneath. But now all four of us sat on one of the high-speed trains and watched the boring landscape flash past, and waiters, not slaves, actually served us drinks and sandwiches at our seats!
We had the same problem in trying to locate Tom, Jamie and Luke as I'd originally had when I'd been trying to find Tom all those years before, and much the same tactic worked even though Vancouver is a big place. First we decided that they'd probably have bought in one of the upmarket areas as I suspected Tom liked 'big places'. Then we fanned out and simply sat at key intersections until we saw a bright red sports car - not as difficult as you'd think, of course, as there weren't a lot of them around. So then we were able to close in and watch at intersections more localised, and after only four days we'd located the house that we knew they were living in.
It didn't seem to be a particularly friendly sort of place - there was a high wall all around the property and the driveway curved sharply to disappear behind trees just inside the locked gates, so you couldn't even see the house. Even knowing the address we couldn't find a phone number or anything, and there was no intercom at the gates as if they were deliberately trying to avoid callers. We decided that I should go in and meet Tom and the guys and scout out the lie of the land, and of course the house 'defences' were no match for a fit guy like me who had been a marine: Mike simply 'boosted' me up on to the top of the wall, and I dropped down on the other side into the grounds.
I had to bang and bang on the imposing front door when I got to the house - there was a most incredible noise of loud rock music comoing from somewhere. But eventually the door did open and Tom stood there - a Tom looking a whole lot older and more careworn that when I'd last seen him.
He looked uncertain for a moment, then held out a hand in greeting, and led me across the hall and into a small room - his study, I guess - which must have had a lot of soundproofing as the throb of the music was now only distracting, rather than painful. At first he tried to put a brave face on it saying that Luke and Jamie were fine, but when I asked about school and college and plans for the future, he looked so bleak and miserable and finally told me it wasn't working out. In spite of having 'everything', Luke and Jamie were bored, listless, and rude to him and wouldn't even talk about what they were going to do with their lives.
"So can I talk to them?"
"Jamie's out. And Luke's in his room...."
"...where the noise is coming from?"
Tom nodded, and we went out, across the hall, up the staircase, and stood in front of a door where the noise was truly incredible. The door was locked, and it was only in a break between tracks that Tom managed to call out to Luke to open the door, and the response was for Luke to shout "Fuck off, dad, and go away. I've told you to leave me alone, so what's so hard to understand about that? Did you think it didn't apply to you, or something, you fucking idiot?", followed by the music starting again. I looked at Tom, who seemed at once appalled and beaten down by things, and I gestured at the door.
Tom nodded, and I simply kicked it down - there's an art to that of course, but you learn on marine training for street fighting how to do it so that it flies open in one go.
Jamie was sprawled on his bed, looking totally amazed at what had happened. Then he saw me and began to get up, smiling and beginning to shout "Steve...", in joy. I strode over to the music player and kicked it to the floor so we were silent. Then I grabbed him by the arm, sat on the edge of the bed, threw him over my knee, pulled down the sweat pants he was wearing, and began to spank his bare ass. Even though Luke has a tough fit young guy there's no way he could withstand the sheer brute force of someone like me who was anyway in a rage at the way he was treating his father, and his frantic thrashing around to get free of me soon subsided and he lay there beginning to sob as his naked ass turned bright red as my hand continued to pound him.
I got tired of it after a time - and, to tell you the truth, my hand was aching (although probably not as much as his butt was!) - so I stopped and pushed him off my knees onto the floor where he sprawled helplessly, looking at me and his dad. And then realising how he was exposed, he frantically tried to cover his erect dick with his hands.
"What the fuck are you doing, Luke? That's your father you were speaking to, you know..."
"I'm bored, Steve, bored out of my mind. There's fuck all to do here...."
"That's no excuse for treating your dad like that."
I turned to Tom and said "And I suppose Jamie's worse than this?"
Tom looked really miserable now. "He's out most of the time...."
"And when he is here, he's rude, disobeys you...?"
"I suppose so...."
Just at that moment there was a screeching of tyres and the sound of flying gravel, and Tom added "But that's him now...."
All three of us went down to the hall and it was a very different sight that greeted us - Jamie was no longer his tall confident self, but some sort of stumbling, shambling wreck. I'd seen guys like this before in the marines, and before he could do or say anything I grabbed at his arm and pushed his sleeve up roughly. There were the tell-tale needle marks.
"Steve...", Jamie managed to slur.
"What the fuck are you on, Jamie?"
He glared at me. "Mind your own fucking business, Steve. You're not one of the top gladiators now, you know...."
I might not have been a gladiator still, but I'm very strong, and I still know how to fight of course. I lashed out at Jamie, striking him hard on the side of the head so he staggered and fell to the floor. The 'old' Jamie, the Jamie I knew, would have picked himself up and flung himself at me even though he had no chance of overpowering me in a fight. But this 'new' Jamie just lay there, and as we watched a pool of piss began to form on the floor near his waist.
"Get him upstairs and into the shower!", I snapped at Luke, and then took Tom by the arm and led him back in to the study. He sat there looking at me, a picture of misery.
"When we first met it as because Jamie was out of control, he was having that judicial caning. Then as a gladiator he did at least learn some self control, some respect for himself, to be 'someone' - he was a champion, you know. Now look at him! And Luke: he was a decent enough kid, properly respectful of others..."
"I know, Steve. It all seems to have gone wrong. I don't know why...."
"Because you spoiled them, I reckon. Rich kids find it hard to make something of themselves. And you've indulged them, stupidly: that car of Jamie's, for example. You should have left them with their buddies...."
"But I didn't like the way they were turning out... Those other men.... They were.... Were..... "
"Homosexuals? Is that the word you were looking for, Tom?"
He nodded. "So? They are all great guys, fit, strong, law-abiding...."
"You don't understand, Steve. I needed to get them away..."
"You're right, I don't understand! Why, when they were turning out all right, did you want to take them away and start spoiling them again?"
Tom looked sheepish again. "I want grandchildren, Steve. And with Jamie and Luke with those other guys...."
"And with me too, actually, Tom."
He looked at me. "You're like the others? But you were a marine..."
"So? Think about it, Tom - where do you think guys who get on well with other guys, guys who want to be real buddies, to rely on other guys, tend to go? It doesn't make us less like men - quite the contrary: we're fit, strong, take care of each other, law-abiding..."
He sat motionless, and I went on " But in any case we need to deal with Jamie now..."
"We'll get him checked in to rehab...."
"No, Tom! Once you start letting the doctors and psychiatrists mess with him, especially the high-priced ones I guess you'll be paying for in some fancy private clinic, he'll never truly get out from under their grasp. They'll keep telling him it's not his fault, society's to blame, and all that crap. Whereas it's Jamie's doing, all of it: he was a great gladiator, and now because he's let himself be spoiled and bribed, he's a junkie. He needs to throw it off himself - with his buddies to help him, of course: we look after our own."
Tom still looked doubtful. So I added "And as for grandchildren.... Well, when they were slaves, I made both Jamie and Luke 'stud' a slave girl for another owner. It shouldn't be too difficult to arrange for them to do the same to a free woman here in Canada...."
"You did what to my sons?"
"I studded them - got them to fuck a slave girl. We needed the money, and there was a good stud fee - both of the boys are proper stud material you know: well built, handsome...." I saw Tom was looking appalled, and I went on "It's a pretty normal thing for slaves to do, or perhaps you didn't realise. Jamie and Luke didn't like it, but folks might have been suspicious if I'd turned down a big fee for their services - we were escaping slaves, and needed to keep under the radar." I grinned at him and added "Anyway, so now we've established the principle that Jamie and Luke can do it with a bitch, it's only a matter of 'persuading' them to do it again, and me and Mike - that's the other big gladiator like me - can be pretty 'persuasive', you know. So whenever you've lined up a couple of bitches -it shouldn't be that hard, there are always women on the look out for someone to breed with - we'll set them to it. But first we need to sort out Jamie....
Can you open the gates, and let the other guys in, please?"
End Of Part Forty Five