Date: Wed, 11 Apr 2012 11:14:59 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Reluctant Gladiator, Part Forty Five

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