THE INSTRUMENT
By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
Part Twenty
I had a terrible night, tossing and turning as I worried about what the Sheikh might decide to do with Jamie. Obviously a good-looking, young, fit "whitey" was not going to be coffled to work in the plantations, or sent down the mines. And it seemed unlikely that the Sheikh would want to use Jamie for sex as he seemed to be perfectly content with Marc, who had been "tamed" and now seemed to dote on the old man's every word and action. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed likely that Jamie would be sold - not that the Sheikh needed the money, of course, but like a lot of men of his age and social status he enjoyed the actual business of slave trading: going to the dealers to look at new stock and then, most of all, using his legendary Arab haggling skills to strike a good deal. Many of the slaves he bought would be kept for only a short time before being treaded again - the fun for the Sheikh was all in the viewing, the handling, and the general business of buying and selling real men just as if they were property.
The more I thought about it, the more it seemed likely that this was to be Jamie's fate: sent off to the trader, and then haggled over by the Sheikh as he strove to get a high price: the use the prospective owner might put my son to was of no concern to the Sheikh, as all he would be concerned about was cutting the best deal possible. It seemed to me that once this had happened I'd never see Jamie again, as he would be kept somewhere else, or further traded down a long series of new owners who enjoyed buying and selling men. I didn't want this to happen, of course: Jamie and I might be having a few little problems, but there was no way that I wanted to lose him permanently - lots of fathers and sons go through rows and arguments at this time in the boy's development, and I just knew that given time, Jamie and I would become proper friends again. But the more I thought about it, the more hopeless the case seemed: once the Sheikh had decided to sell Jamie, there wouldn't be a thing I could do about it.
As always happens after you've been tossing and turning all night, sick with worry, I fell into a deep sleep just before dawn. And so instead of snapping awake as I usually do, ready to face the day, one of the palace servants had to shake me awake when I was already running late, and I had to throw myself out of my bed sporting my morning hard-on in front of the young lad. Still, that didn't matter - it's perfectly natural, after all, but I hate having to rush and I had to use my authority to make some off the other slaves stand aside so that I could shit, shower and shave as quickly as possible.
I then hurried over to the stables, and, as I expected, as neither of them was good first thing in the morning, I found Jamie and Jason still asleep, with Jamie half sprawled over Jason's body, and with Jason's arm almost cradling Jamie to him. I shouted at them to get up, and Jamie got to his feet, and stood there kind of rubbing at his eyes. Then of course he realised that he was rock hard, and made a feeble attempt to cover his dick with his hands to shield the sight from me.
"Go and get shaved and showered, Jamie", I said, as calmly as I could. "You know the Sheikh wants to see us this morning. It's an important day for you."
"No, dad! I'm going to stay here with Jason. He'll look after me, protect me from that pervert, even if you won't....."
"You don't understand, Jamie. You just don't get the way things operate around here, do you? The Sheikh's word is law. He owns us - owns all of us - you, me, Jason, all the other slaves - and if we disobey there are terrible punishments."
"Bullshit! I don't believe you! He's a worse pervert than even you are, if you ask me...."
"Well I'm not asking you, I'm telling you! Now, go and get showered and cleaned up...."
Jason had no got to his feet and was standing there, waiting for the stable slaves to come and unlock his manacle to free him to get ready for work. Jamie went and stood beside him, and put his arm around Jason again as he had the previous night. "Help me, Jason....", he said almost plaintively. "Don't let them do stuff to me today...."
Jason shuffled from foot to foot, clearly not knowing what to do, or what to say. I snapped again "Jamie, Jason can't help you! He's a slave, like you and me. We all have to do as we are ordered. Now, go and get showered...."
Jamie still clung to Jason, and in spite of myself, I lost it again. I couldn't bear to see my son preferring Jason to me, to see him almost respecting Jason, looking to him as a source of help. The bull whip was still lying there, and almost without thinking I seized it and lashed out at Jason again, the tip striking his butt this time, and a fresh trail of bright red blood breaking out across his flanks. Jason gave a great shout of shock and hurt, and Jamie screamed "NO!....."
"See, Jamie? Jason's a slave. And slaves who are disobedient, or who assist in disobedience, get punished. No, if you don't want me to whip Jason some more, get over here and go and get showered.!"
"It's not fair", Jamie almost exploded. "You're mad at me, and you're taking it out on Jason...."
"Life isn't fair, Jamie. It's not 'fair' in the world at all, and more especially so when you're a slave. Now, I don't want to have to whip Jason again - for one thing, he's got to work hard today as it's my day for inspecting the boundaries of the demesne and that means a lot of running. He's going to find it pretty painful anyway with that slash across his butt.... Do you want to make him suffer more?"
"Whip me, dad! That's what you want, isn't it? You like fucking people, you like causing them pain....."
"Don't be so stupid! Of course I don't like causing pain, but sometimes, especially with slaves, it's the only way. I can hardly fire a worker who isn't pulling his weight, can I? Or give him a lower salary rise than anyone else? As you'll discover, physical punishment is all that's available to manage slaves, and as the chief slave around here, responsible for running the place, the Instrument, I'd get punished if I failed to do my job properly..... So cut the crap and just do as you're fucking told, for once: get off to the showers, or else I'll whip Jason again: I can't whip you as the Sheikh wants to inspect you again today, and you can hardly appear before him with the marks of a whipping on you! So move it, or Jason gets it....."
"Go on....", Jason whispered. "Your dad's right...."
"No, Jason! I want to stay with you. Look, I'll protect you...." As he said this, Jamie flung his arms around Jason, pulling their bodies close together and I could see their still erect dicks being flattened against their bellies. "Now try whipping Jason, dad..... You'll have to cut me first...."
Jamie didn't understand, of course. Didn't understand that by clinging to the front of Jason, Jason's whole back was still exposed. And with a long bull whip, it's relatively easy to strike it so that you aim the stroke to the side, so that the tip, the part that does the damage, curls around the back. I had to hit Jason three times, with him crying out and his massive body convulsing with the pain each time, before Jamie got the message. Slowly, he let go of Jason and came over to me, hissing "Bastard...."
"No, Jamie. This is all your fault. You've caused Jason all that pain, quite unnecessarily. Now, go and get showered and tell the slaves at the baths that you're to be presented to the Sheikh - they'll know how he likes to see a slave prepared...."
Jamie half turned, kept looking at Jason, but Jason just stood there, his eyes cast down to the floor, as if ashamed. No, that's wrong - I think he had his head bowed and was staring down because that's the way ponies are trained to stand when they're not running - they're not supposed to be looking around everywhere, but to stand motionless, looking a a point a metre in front of them. Seeing this, and wrongly interpreting it as a sign that Jason had given up on him, Jamie walked off, very slowly, very hesitantly.
I turned to go, but Jason muttered "You fucker, Steve! We used to be buddies, and now you whip me...."
"....and you know why, Jason! I can't have you siding with Jamie, spoiling him: he's a slave, just like you, and you know how hard a slave's life is even under the most favourable circumstances. You're only making it worse for him in the end.... Giving him false hopes...."
"You didn't have to whip me...."
"..and how else would I show him just how hopeless the situation is, when you're standing there with your arm around him?"
"You're jealous, Steve, that's what it is! Jealous that your son thinks more of me than he does of you...."
That really hurt me, probably because there was a grain of truth in what Jason was saying.
"Shut the fuck up, Jason! You've done enough harm today already. I'll get that manacle undone, and then you'd better get ready: it is going to be tough on you today, as I've got to do all my normal work after I've seen the Sheikh about Jamie. So that means you'll be running - really running - in spite of the whip wounds"
"Fucker..."
"I've had enough! One more word, Jason, and I'll really whip you. Have you taken out and strung up to the whipping post, and then flogged until you're screaming for mercy, as an example to all the other slaves as to what happens when they're wilful."
Before Jason could have a chance to reply, I turned and stormed out: he can be so stupid sometimes that he might have screamed some expletive at me again, and then I wouldn't have any option but to do as I had said, and I really didn't want to hurt Jason.
I collected Jamie from the slave baths after I'd got through my usual morning's meetings and reports from the other chief slaves, and I have to say they'd done a fantastic job on him. His hair had that "immaculate" look that you only get immediately after the barbers, and he positively shone as the slave oil that had been massaged into his skin caught the light. He was wearing only a tiny loincloth, hanging from a thin gold chain that was slung far below his slim hips, just at the root of his cock, almost, and only held there because of the thrust of his butt at the back. He scowled at me.
"Now listen, Jamie, and listen good. This may be the last time we ever meet...."
"Good!"
"Listen, you stupid fucker! It's most likely that our owner is going to send you off to the slave dealer! Do you know what that means? It means you'll be taken away from here, you'll be put up for sale, lots of men will paw all over you, you'll be bought, and we'll never see each other again...."
"Good! Never would be too soon....."
"I don't think you really mean that, Jamie. You're my son....."
"...and you're the dad who fucked me, and...."
"The dad who had no choice but to fuck you, you mean.... But I don't have time for all of this. Look, it may be the last time we meet.... Let's not part like this.... "
Jamie turned towards the door "The Sheikh's rooms are this way, aren't they? If he's going to send me away, the sooner the better, as far as I'm concerned..."
His remarks made me so angry I could have hit him. I guess a lot of fathers get like that when three growing kids just don't seem to understand the way of the world (even when it's a very strange world, as ours is!). But I knew that the audience with the Sheikh wasn't going to be easy, and having a big red hand print on Jamie's arse, or a red mark across his face where I had struck him, would not have helped, I knew. So, seething inside, I managed to curb my temper and pushed him in front of me through the service passages and then out into the "formal" corridors of the public and ceremonial parts of the palace.
Jamie created quite a stir as I guided him through the throngs in the outer audience chambers (most of whom had no chance of getting in to see the Sheikh, but who needed to come here to beg for his intervention before the courts would even consider their cases). Most of the men would of course have male slaves to attend to their needs when they were tired of their wives, and as many of them would also be active in slave trading (it was, as I have told you, one of the chief "hobbies" of the free men there to trade slaves), they had a good "eye" for the male form. And there's no denying it - Jamie was pretty special: for one thing, he was a pure "whitey" - not a trace of nigga in him, and not even with any pronounced Arabic features or shading of the skin - and so the men in the room would be tripling or even quadrupling any possible value they would put on him; and then there was his age and general physique: personally I think there's something about a man on that "cusp" of proper manhood, when he's fully sexually mature, and yet hasn't finally put on all the adult musculature, that seems to make him particularly attractive, and taken with his lack of fat, his lean hard muscles as he had always been a keen sportsman, I knew that Jamie would be exciting erections in the majority of the men around us. And, of course, finally, there was the way he was dressed: somehow the tiny loincloth that offered tantalising glimpses of Jamie's long cock as he strode along added to his general allure, and as we passed I could hear many of the men giving sighs of longing as Jamie's buttocks were somehow emphasised by the thin gold of the chain lying almost provocatively on them - personally I think that it's better to keep a slave almost naked rather than totally naked if you want him to be at his most sexually alluring: even the act of pulling aside a tiny loincloth is somehow sexually exciting (of course field slaves and ponies and the like have no need of this, because you're using them for sheer physical work and there's simply no point in wasting money on clothing them. But bath slaves, personal servants and pleasure slaves all benefit from some partial concealment of their charms, it seems to me).
We had to wait for quite some time in the Sheikh's audience chamber before he had dealt with the many supplicants who had managed to bribe their way into his presence, and it was hard to know who was the more impatient - the Sheikh himself, who kept glancing at Jamie's almost nude body as he and I stood there, or Jamie, who after an initial brief period of acute embarrassment as he realised that most of the men in the room were eyeing him, became almost bored by the tedious affairs being conducted (it was particularly hard for him, as he did not speak Arabic, which was the language the Sheikh used for dealing with his subjects - he preferred English, of course, when dealing with his private matters), and, finally, almost he started to show impatience as the proceeding dragged on and on.
But finally the Sheikh dismissed all the supplicants and courtiers, keeping only a small skeleton staff of trusted guards in the room with us. He beckoned Jamie towards him, and, fearing Jamie's reaction, which might result in some serious punishment for him, I kept a strong grip on Jamie's naked shoulder as I guided him over to the old man. I have to say I was terrified inside - I'd almost made up my mind that the only thing the sheikh would want to do was to sell Jamie as he had no need of another boy for his pleasures (Marc seemingly being totally satisfactory now, especially as the old man's sexual prowess was declining ), and Jamie was potentially worth so much money that there was no way he could be used for "routine" tasks around the Palace.
The old man ignored Jamie - not even putting out one of his feeble hands to caress Jamie's skin or fondle his genitals - and instead addressed me. "Steve, I have decided that it is time my nephew once more played a more active part in ruling here. Whilst I will never forgive him properly for those unfortunate incidents some time ago, it is also true that I am not getting any younger. And this place needs continuity - without a strong ruler there will be an excuse for the Western powers to move in should I die, and I do not wish decadent Western ways to be inflicted on my people - we are a proud people, as you will know, Steve, and I do not want our society spoiled by terrible Western values and the unbridled sexuality that I see on their TV whenever I have to travel there. No, I need to consider continuity, and I place this higher than my residual anger at my nephew, who is therefore going to be released from house arrest here in the palace and gradually allowed to resume his place in society."
The old man stopped to draw breath, and continued "As a very public demonstration of my reconciliation with my nephew, so that all at the court will have no doubt that he is once more in my favour, I have decided to give him this new slave. You will remain as my Instrument, and this slave, your son, will become my nephew's property: I have seen the way he looks lustfully at Marc, and so I do not doubt that he has a taste for young men, and will treat the slave properly."
"But Highness, please..... He might sell my son....."
"Ah, Steve, you do not understand, do you? I know that you have bonded with that other strong slave who you use as a pony - you would not consider advising me to sell him, would you?"
I shook my head, and he continued "Well it is the same when an older man bonds with a young slave: I would not consider selling Marc, and providing this young slave behaves properly initially and pleases my nephew, he will have an excellent chance of worming his way into my nephew's affections to such an extent that any consideration of his being sold would be simply ridiculous."
"But Highness, my son will have to perform sexually....."
The old man laughed. "Oh, Steve.... Your old prejudices are still showing, even after all this time in my service. Of course he will have to serve sexually - he is a slave, and my nephew is a virile man, as I believe you know.... I do enjoy watching your discomfort on the spy cameras as he uses your body. But that is what slaves are for, and, again as you have discovered, men soon get to learn to enjoy sex with other men. Before you came here, did you ever believe you would so willingly perform as my Instrument, using so many slaves sexually on my behalf? Indeed, you were married, as the presence of your son here testifies, and in your old life you probably joined all those other hypocrites in condemning the enjoyment that men can have together. But now.... Well, I understand that you and that pony....." He gave a chuckle as he went on "....but then, some of us would say that was a a little perverted. You are having sex with one of the slaves who is little more than a dumb animal here!"
The old man leaned forward, looked deep into my eyes, and with deep sincerity in his voice added "One of the best thing a man can do for his son, Steve, is to give him good counsel for his future life. And so I advise you, Steve, to discuss with your son most seriously the position he is in, and to advise him to do everything in his power to ensnare my nephew as a true lover and friend."
The old man leaned back ,and as I started "But....", he snapped "Enough, Steve! I have spoken. It is decided. But I will give you some time with your son - you need perform no duties for me today, but instead spend it with your son, explaining to him the realities of life here. Then tomorrow, when you carry out your regular visit to my nephew's quarters, you can be the messenger who conveys to him that he is no longer a prisoner there, and present him with your son on my behalf as the symbol of his forgiveness. There is, I know, ill feeling from him towards you, but this might begin to alleviate that if you are so closely associated with his new-found position."
There was no point in any further discussion as the Sheikh flicked his fly-whisk in a gesture of dismissal, and before Jamie could do or say anything stupid, I led him out of the audience chamber and on out through the palace. Jason was waiting patiently outside in the shafts of my trap, doing his best to behave "properly" and stand still, as a pony is expected to, in spite of the hordes of flies that were attracted by the dried blood where I had whipped him. The poor guy was obviously embarrassed at having to wait there as a constant stream of place slaves came in and out of the service entrance and were all looking at the marks on his body - Jason prided himself on being a "good" slave, and now, in plain sight for all to see were the marks of a master's displeasure (all ponies have some marks, mostly on their butt, of course - and as I have mentioned, I sometimes have to use the carriage whip even on Jason to "encourage" those last drops of effort out of him when he is nearing exhaustion at the end of a hard day. But the deep slashes and the dried blood are most distinctly unusual on a properly trained pony, especially a rare and expensive "whitey" like Jason).
A great stab of remorse went through me as I knew I'd really used Jason as the object of my own frustration and anger, and he actually hadn't deserved those lashes. But he should have known better than to get between a father and his son, I suppose. Still, to try to make amends, I said casually "You're not going to have to run hard today, Jase.... I'm not doing my regular inspection trip. Head up to the irrigation ponds instead."
I got into the trap, and motioned for Jamie to come and sit beside me. But, defiantly, he went and stood by Jason and snapped "I'll run with Jase."
Yes, I know I should have gone and grabbed him and given him a good thrashing for such a display, but I needed to have a serious talk with him and there was no point in beginning the rest of the day so badly. So, as cheerily as I could, I said "Suit yourself - I guess a young guy needs his exercise", and then in my normal command tone, called the traditional "Run on!" To Jason to tell him to get moving (and refrained from giving him even a touch of the carriage whip as we sped along on the thirty or so minutes ride up to the irrigation ponds).
Although there are several pools in the palace itself, I actually prefer swimming in the irrigation ponds as they're fresh water without any of the disinfectant or chemicals that we have to use indoors, the desert sands run gently down to the edge so you can wade in to the water, and you can lie on the sand afterwards; and, actually, provided it's not the hottest months, it's really good to feel the sun on your body! It's a pity I don't have enough time to use them regularly, but my duties normally make it impossible, so today was a real pleasure for me.
I threw my shorts and shirt off and waded in and swam and swam for about twenty minutes, just enjoying feeling my body exercising properly. But to my surprise, once this was over, I saw Jamie still sitting on the sand, his body glistening with sweat in the heat. I was about to shout to him to come in and join me when I realised what was happening: he was making some sort of gesture of solidarity with Jason, who was in the proper "pony rest" stance with his head bowed and his hands clasped behind his back.
My anger surged, and I was about to order Jamie to come in and join me so we could do a bit of dad and son bonding, when it struck me that this as not the best way to proceed. I needed to start treating Jamie as a man, a man who could make decisions for himself, if he was to accept his new role properly (and it was only by doing it "properly" that there was any chance of success). On the other hand, I was getting bored, and although I wanted to continue swimming, I wanted someone to swim with (or, rather, against!).
As I thought about it, the solution was obvious! "Hey, Jase", I shouted, "Come on, forget you're a pony today, come on in... The water's lovely...."
I guess Jason was still pretty annoyed with me as he didn't immediately and joyously run across the sand, as you might expect him to when he was given the chance of a fantastic swim, but instead he walked cautiously to the edge and then waded in to stand near me. He was kind of glowering, not actually showing anger, but not looking happy, either. So I splashed him - sending a great wave of water up into his face.
Well, you know how it is in a pool when one guy does that to another.... It's hard to resist retaliating and starting a water fight, isn't it? "So, Steve, I'm not a pony today.....", Jason shouted, and dived at me, his unexpected attack knocking me off my feet, so he could push my head under water.
We wrestled, raced, tried to "duck" each other, splashed, shouted, and ended up sitting side by side in the shallows, our arms around each others shoulders, laughing just like two kids, and behaving just like a couple of regular guys who are good friends at the beach. I looked up and saw Jamie looking in complete amazement at us, so I called out "Come on in and join us!"
"Fuck you, dad!", he replied, still sounding petulant and angry.
"If I had a son he wouldn't talk to me like that", Jason whispered to me, one of his big wide grins spreading across his face - one of those smiles I hadn't seen for a long time. I could tell he was teasing me, so I said casually back "Well the only sons you've had have all been sired in the breeding barn, so there's no way of knowing how they'd behave if they ever met you and knew it was your seed that had fathered them. But, mister family expert, assuming you were lucky enough to have a kid like Jamie, what would you do?"
Jason grinned at me again, and in one smooth motion got to his feet and waded out of the water - there's something intensely erotic, I always think, in seeing a naked man striding out of water, his cock bouncing up and down and droplets of water flying everywhere. He strode across the sand, and I saw Jamie looking quizzically at him as he approached..... And then he began shouting as Jase scooped him up in his powerful arms, came back towards me and literally hurled Jamie up in the air so he fell with a huge splash right in front of me.
Jase and I were helpless with laughter as Jamie came up for air, spluttering and coughing and shouting all kinds of foul abuse at Jason. But when he saw us sitting once more arm in arm, helpless with laughter, he too started to smile and a big grin spread across his face.
Well, what can I tell you about the rest of that day? We were almost like three school kids, racing and playing in the water until we were all pretty much exhausted. Then I started to talk to Jamie about his new life, and when he started to say "No, no....", it was Jason who stepped in!
He put his massive arm around Jamie's shoulders and said, quietly but authoritatively, "Listen to your dad, Jamie. He's right, you know: you are a slave here, and you could be sold at any time. So if you want to stay with your dad - or even if you don't want to be with him... if you want to be with me..... Then you're going to have to do as he says and get the nephew to really bond with you. And it's not so bad, you know..... I mean, before I came here, I never wanted sex with another guy - in fact I flattened a guy once who propositioned me! But now, well.... With your dad.... When we're not quarrelling..... It's pretty good. It's what men really like doing together, you know, once they've overcome their stupid inhibitions.... And that nephew - I've seen him around the place, before he was banished, and he's got a pretty good body.... A man could really enjoy some real interaction with a guy like that....."
"I can't, Jase... I can't let some guy fuck me...."
Jason pulled Jamie closer to him, bent his head low, put his lips almost in Jamie's ear, and I could just about hear "Yes you can. You're just scared, that's all. And you've not had a very good experience so far..... Your dad thinks he's a super-stud fucker, being the Instrument and all, but I can tell you that he doesn't know a lot of the tricks that really makes a man go wild.... You ask the drays - they'll tell you how good sex with a proper stud can be, a man like me who can fuck one nigga after another until they're crying out with the sheer pleasure of it....."
"No...", Jamie started to say, but Jason simply scooped him up again and carried him a bit around the edge of the pond, away from me.
I know I shouldn't have watched really, but it was one of the most amazing shows I've ever seen - the huge, muscled, dark brown body of Jason seemed to be all over Jamie's lithe, paler form. Sometimes on top, sometimes underneath. And although Jason began by fucking Jamie, after an hour or so he did something that I never could have done with my son, and let Jamie fuck him.
When the sun started to go down I really had to break it up as we did need to go back to the palace, and now things were very different: Jamie had a kind of dreamy, happy look all over his face, and after a couple of moments he said casually "I guess life isn't too bad here, eh, dad?"
Well, all that was ten years ago. And a lot has happened since!
Jamie was still a bit reluctant to go with the nephew at first, but worked at it - in fact worked at it very well. All that time I was getting fucked by him the nephew was just "making a point" about masters and slaves and "punishing" me because of my relationship with his uncle. Now, with Jamie, he could relax - and it seems Jamie is a chip off the old block and really only wants to "top", as I do. So now it's hard to say who's really in charge: Obviously, outwardly, as his Highness, our owner rules: he is the absolute ruler just as his uncle was before his death; but privately, in their chambers, Jamie tells me that it is he who runs things.
I thought things would go badly for me when the old Sheikh died, but his Highness is more interested in the pleasures of the flesh than in the exercise of power as such, and so was glad to have me continue as his Instrument, running things. In fact I have almost total power now, making all the business decisions relating to the demesne and to his Highness's interests in the oil, and in the expanding leisure industry here.
If I'd let him, Jason would still be my pony. But, frankly, I decided that it was wrong for us to be spending so much time together: I wanted him in my bed every night, and I don't think it's a good idea for a couple who sleep together to work together - and I was finding it harder and harder to whip that butt when we were working, knowing that it might spoil my pleasure later that evening when Jason cried out if I slammed my body into him too hard. So I acquired a magnificent pair of matched niggas instead who I treat only as animals and have no emotional attraction to at all. Jason is a bit obsessed with his body, as you probably know - I think he found it hard to give up being a pony. So now he runs the health club in the new very exclusive resort hotel adjacent to the palace - so exclusive, in fact, that it is only extremely rich males who can gain entry - and it's Jason who oversees their "exercises", which mostly consist of using their unfit bodies in a series of encounters with young slaves (although I have my suspicions that some of them really enjoy being dominated and fucked almost senseless by a huge stud like Jason, too)!
We all seem to be happy, at least for the moment. Life seems to be stable. But who knows? You just have to make the best of it as you go along, don't you? But I reckon we're well placed - I've got Jason and Jamie with me, and who could want much else than to be with his son, and his lover?
Pete Brown July 2007 - January 2009 London, Brussels, Madrid, Stockholm, Oslo.
An after-word:
Apologies to my readers for taking so long to finish this story. The pressures of the "day job" have kept my mind pretty much occupied these past eighteen months. And, like all writers, I suffer from the occasional "writer's block" and just cannot put fingers to keyboard. Still, I now have one or two erotic thoughts in my brain once more, and I aim to do a short story to "cleanse the palate", so to speak, within the next two to three weeks.