Date: Fri, 1 Jun 2018 15:02:40 +0200 From: TChase McPhee Subject: ?GLaDiaToR EV?ry DaY? 14 % This work of fiction is set in the format of real-world situations. Identifying details to real people, alive or dead, is entirely coincidental in nature. % States and countries have various rules regarding reading or viewing `adult material'. It is up to you, the reader, to research this subject, abiding by laws and conscience. The pages of this story contain `adult material', intended for an `adult audience.' Bypass this warning at your own risk! % If sexual scenes involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if dude-to-dude sex stuff makes you wanna barf or is gonna screw up your mind, you should not read this story. % Sexual safety matters. Guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection and I don't mean going out and hiring a security guard...unless he gives your nuts and bolt a jolt! Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have over the years, consider adding some $upport for `internet $pace' or else I will have to start cutting handsome, hairy or steamy characters out of my stories. Do you dare imagine a story without any tops? http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html % `GLaDiaToR EV'ry DaY' 14 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee % It had been a long haul, from problems in latter teen years, through half of Kelly's college years. Walking the vast territory of the Magonagle estate, thinking through life's circumstances, Kelly hardly noticed anything, beyond green leaves and brown tree bark. With suddenness, at a time of transition, college, to real life, he planted both feet firmly on the ground and began to `notice'. A long haul, also it's been a revelation. Communing with nature, rather than another human being at his side, Kelly reflects on the past, beginning with vague memories of college days. One thing set Kelly in a smiley mood, saying out loud, "Willow!" Slowly it was sinking in, that name and not `Sam.' As if she was standing there, facing him, "Okay, girl, if that's what you want, you got it!" It left him giggling at his own private joke, the only other reverb, nature itself, the echo of birds or some other animal not in a nocturnal mode. Rare mood taking over, after spotting a resting place off the beaten path, Kelly lit out from where he had virtually come to a standstill and trekked to that place. "Wow," he voiced opinion, placing a hand on the boulder, which came to waist high, rubbing it like a genie's lamp. His hand picked up on some half-devoured acorns from some squirrel's feast. Plopping his butt down on the big rock, probably left over from some ice age global navigation, Kelly felt more relaxed with his surroundings. It was Willow who had first challenged him with sitting on a stability ball, pushing the hips forward and then bend back, reaching the arms overhead. Only difference, Kelly's clothing did stretch with the movement, on account of the boulder didn't budge! No matter. He just kept on going and soon was in a position whereas his legs were stretched to, toes barely touching ground. Kelly felt the breeze, shirt riding up. It truly replicated, Sam - `dammit' - Willow's exercise ball. It made him giggle, that kinky girl, telling him he had such a sexy navel! In a frivolous mood, the power of suggestion had him checking. An out of bod experience, he was sitting on a tree limb overhead. Staring up, his eyes zeroed in on the exact spot. To see if it were true, that he did have a `sexy navel' Kelly moved one arm overhead, hand landing on his shirt, at chest height. Certainly, the element of silence, except for nature's symphony, lent credence to the whole euphoria. A hand did make it to where his shirt had crept up, but instead of sliding down to his bellyhole his hand set in reverse. Pulling shirttail all the way up, to under his chin, it anchored itself in place. He smiled out of discovery and delight. Already Kelly was aware of the fibers of chest hair, having grown in between pecs. Perhaps his hands were more sensitive than as if looking in the mirror. They could pick up more quickly on where hair had been established midway, void from growing over each pec. Not by conscious thinking, his left hand joined the right, and without lifting his chin to see where both were travleing, sensitivity kicked in, when fingers found his nips! He whispered to the squirrels, "oh man does that feel good," which also had him biting the lower lip. It's not like he hasn't been here before. Equated to lying in the rented house at college, own room, personal bed, except for the hump of the boulder, it all worked out to be the same. For the next minute, Kelly's index fingers would draw invisible circles around his nips. Saliva-lube helped, which even kicked up the intensity. That wasn't enough, as the time-bomb between his legs began ticking away! Routine, it all could happen so quickly, nip stim, one hand sliding down, leaving the other to rub and pinch. Using `feel-touchy' as his guide, Kelly's right hand would follow the abs trail to where the wind had blown over his bellyhole. With more pressing issue, his five digits skipped over the deep innie, to the fuzz below. That gave way to the more bushier sensation of pubes and from there, not much thought as to what was about to happen! Left hand became more inactive, as the right hand kicked up the action. Gone was `himself', from sitting on the branch above, outer bod giving way to all the attention on hand action. Touch, feel, told Kelly his mighty shaft was now ready to kiss the sky, the tip like a compass. In order to get full benefit of the climax, he crunched up, which set both feet flat on solid earth. Attention fluctuated, between looking down at what his right hand was up to. Then, as if he were pumping his shaft forward, Kelly's head dropped backwards, catching a dreamlike glimpse of `some' poor guy, getting his ass ferociously assaulted! Power of suggestion, coupled with boiling balls can be quite the experience, when the mind finds it's on the brink of eruption. So be it, Kelly's chin tilts forward, touching chest, watching as ropes of goo squirt out, soiling up leaves and lichen, verbally declaring, "oh-yeah, oh yeah-h-h-oh-h-h-shit-yeah!" It wouldn't occur to Kelly, until later, while assembling himself back together, the point at which he unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned, unzipped and parked briefs below the balls. A clean break, at dying embers of the conclusion of his forest experience, leaning back, Kelly can only think of how peaceful all this really is, when masturbation and nature come together as one. Years of spending much time alone, except for when Jared was around, Kelly conjures up, "oh Doc. Look what I've gone and done!" Right before and a year into college, Kelly had found another person in his life in which to confide. Not only very professional, good at what his title entailed, his shrink was the compass which set him back on course in life, after going through a few teen years of turmoil, kicking off from his father's act of discipline. Frankly, a few years back, when Jared mentioned to he had gotten into the leather scene, Kelly had thought something was psychology wrong with his brother. Fortunately, he had been seeing Doc Watson long enough, not to feel intimated about bringing up any subject, no matter how weird. It was at that time his psych confided there wasn't much he didn't experience, when it came to either something gay or the fringe activities which surround it. Doc even told Kelly a little secret, that he liked to dress up as a woman! Going with his `gladiator' instinct, Kelly said this was a little different, but was amazed when Doc Watson didn't have the white coat put on him and sealed away in an insane asylum, mentioning fantasies about, of all things, his nips! He knew he looked bug-eyed, the time Jared told him it felt `cool', having metal clamps attached to each nip. However, mentioning this to Doc Watson, he wasn't surprised at all. In fact, he had remarked with strangeness, a calm, `oh cool,' which even caused higher raised brows! Right now, putting himself back together, Kelly was thinking of this other place in time, smiling as he remembers it. If Kelly dwell on this long enough, he would need to undo his repair of belt and zipper, shattering silence, with his voice-in-the-wilderness crooning out loud, his shaft erupting like Vesuvius for a second time! Little did Kelly know, someone was watching, "I betcha that felt good!" He knew that laugh! Diving time between putting the finishing touches on his belt buckle and..."Adrian?" >From a distance Adrian crept through the forest and with much expertise on being sneaky, was able to avoid stepping on a twig. Standing right next to the boulder, he catches Kelly pulling his shirttail down over the waist. "Hmm," Adrian looks down. Rightfully, Kelly thought Adrian had a helluva nerve, lifting his shirt, saying at the same time, "looks like I'm too late!" Just as nervy, rightfully doing so, Kelly's hand comes down like a guillotine, chopping Adrian's hand out of the way, "really, Adrian?" "Just making sure," he gazes down, then up into Kelly's eyes, "you didn't forget anything." Like a doctor would warn, "you don't want to go around all day, with that sticky, gooey feeling?" Kelly did think it rational. In one respect, Adrian was right. Kelly was never in the habit of carrying a handkerchief in his pocket, or as Willow did, one of those mini-sized packages of tissues. At a moment like this, who thinks like that? "I mean," Adrian tries his best to sway Kelly, "only other option is," he bends down, picks up a wet leaf, "could get a little scratchy wiping off?" With mixed reaction, to Adrian licking at the leaf like it was a rare treat, "ew-w, Adrian?" >From Doc Watson's explanation, after mentioning being disciplined by his own father, whipped in the basement, that some guys crave it, sharing what was supposed to remain secret between brothers, Jared's experience with nip clamps, and now, Adrian's sweet affection for man-cream, there hasn't been much kinky stuff Kelly hasn't experienced for himself. It's when shocking stuff becomes mundane! Another thought crosses Kelly's mind, "what are you doing here anyway, Adrian? Aren't you supposed to be training?" "I broke from the group. I had to go to the latrine, but whizzed in the woods. Then I heard this moaning sound and when I turned to my right, there was you!" Kelly swore, that laugh could `heal'! "Well," Kelly tries making a decision, suddenly based on what he's already realized, he's got a `soulmate' now, "you can stick around lick leaves all day, but I gotta go." The thing with Adrian, he was submissive in general, adhering to any man, stranger or friend, the 20-year old already having years of experience at the `gay occult', being used as a cum-dump, whipping post, butt-plugger, has even drunk piss, but constituted it all as being good and to his liking, a big turn on for his own blasting barrel of fun. "Anytime," Adrian was happy to give. If ever there was a low period in anyone's life, all they needed to do is hear Adrian's laugh and they would perk up in a split second! About to dash back on the path, Kelly and Adrian are set upon by a bellowing voice, shirtless guy approaching, "Adrian, what the hell are you up to?" It was John's brother, "oh, hi Ryan," Kelly says, then trying to cover for why he and Adrian are standing there, in the middle of the forest, "hey, did you hear? John's working at the barnyard now." Really strange though. Like trying to follow a map, Adrian goes full circle, leading right back to, "Kelly here kind of got himself in a predicament and I was only trying to help him out. That's all." Right then and there, Kelly got the impression there was more to Ryan and Adrian than mere friends, "well okay. On that note, I better be going." In a way, as Kelly headed back on the beaten path, he was torn between good and `evil'. At first, the serenity of the moment was so peaceful, joyful. His whole downfall, or rather heat of the moment, bending backwards over the boulder, discovery the sensitivity of nips, navel and beyond, if Adrian didn't happen along, it would have been all so simple. Yet, if he continued to think on it, he might have to find another boulder in the woods! As if a decisive, corporate decision in the making, he begins to dwell on his surroundings. He never dreamed that coming home would, as Doc Watson had perceived, give him a new outlook on life. He smiled, thinking he now had John to share it with. Tail end of the afternoon, had a troop of those training for the Highland Games, and their trainer, passing by. Standing with his back to the forest, Kelly figured it was better then getting mowed down! Several `heys' or `hi there' rang out, as the mostly fit dudes came through in single file. It was only one he recognized, "hey, how's it going, Kelly?" And then the tall, handsome, long-legged runner was 20 feet down the path! Again, that vague remembrance, of when you meet a person, crosses his mind. However, after scratching his head and a snap of the finger, Kelly recalls, "Teyo!" Upon mentioning his name, what he supposes, a straggler jogs past. Kelly saw why he lagged behind the others, trying to jog fast and talking on his cell? But then, after running past, the long-haired, shirtless man turns suddenly, says, `hold on', retraces his steps back to Kelly and in tossing his cell from right to left hand, "hey, I'm Myels Davies. I know who you are. Nice to meet ya!" Before Kelly could get a word in, the stud is gone too! But certainly, grabbing some quick facts about his looks, they reminded Kelly of the guy he always hated in high school. He could be personified as `hot', like Myels, have a Scandinavian accent, or not, hair looking disheveled, tied off in a bob, bulging muscles, forest of hair across mighty pecs, treasure trail disappearing into shorts....the more he thought about the cosmetic features, the less he pondered on being bullied by such a guy, to the extent, `I'm in love!' `Ridiculous!' Yeah, it was. Admitting it to himself right now, Kelly more than liked John and as he once again set on the path towards wherever it led, he wore a big grin on his face, knowing he had met his soulmate. Apparently that wasn't the last of the squad of joggers, another in the distance, coming towards him. The closer he got, the more familiar he got. Slowly, the figure got larger, which he could make out as the manager of the store, "Billy?" he yells up the path. Getting to Kelly, Billy looks back, explaining, "I'm in top physical condition you know, which is why, if I wanted to, I could keep up with the others, but pacing myself to keep up with Carlos!" A speck from a long, long distance, no one could recognize him without description. "That's nice of you, Billy." "Hey," he smiles, after picking up his shirt over a rounded belly, wiping his face and smoothing it back down, "us cubs gotta watch out for each other!" Of the two, Kelly would think Carlos more out of shape than Billy. From running, Billy was only a little out of breath, or it could be he was keeping up his cardio stride. Of the cub thing, when the shirt was up, certainly he was a sheet of sweaty hair, over bulging pecs and protruding over a rounded stomach. Not fat, he was more a mix of blubber and muscle, but molded together, no one could pick out which was which. He wasn't out of breath when he caught up, Carlos panting nonetheless, "whew!" Hanging onto Billy with one hand to the shoulder, "oh. Hi Kelly." Then to his boyfriend, "I'm glad you taught me all that cardio-running stuff." Billy explains it, "when you've never done it, all it takes is a little education and then putting it into practice." Before Kelly could even share opinion, Billy turns, dropping Carlos' hand from his shoulder, "c'mon boyfriend. Only 4 more miles to go." "When I get back home, I'm gonna drop right into bed," Carlos says, before running off to catch up. `Yeah right,' Kelly said to himself, giggling, `right on top of Billy!' No matter how tired guys get, when their testosterone levels go on overload, there's no stopping that. Right after, another pack comes barreling through, which is comprised of his own brother, thinking `oh good.' "Hey Kelly," Flex greets him followed by 2 more high-5's, from his chefs. He jokes with Chad and Thomas, "I hope supper's gonna be on the table when I get home?" Chad yells back, "nuke tonight!" Kelly jokes, "so much for gourmet chefs." Right there to take the brunt of his brother's comment, "I can have them make you up dinner, if you want?" Absurd look on Kelly's face, "hey, you don't want to know half the stuff me and Willow chowed down on." Jared had already reconciled on things like that, probably not knowing half the stuff those two did, "gotcha." But there were other thoughts bothering Jared. Like approaching a long lost lover, he takes his brother by the shoulders, saying in an apologetic manner, "I hope everyone is treating you right? You getting everything you need? Your happiness is important to me, you know?" With feelings running through Kelly's mind, ones in which he hasn't dwelled on, as a major portion of his life, he opens up about, "I'm doing fine. John is turning into not only a pal, but something more. There's only one person who worries me." Thinking someone has crossed the line, done something malicious against his bro, Jared sternly says, "who is he? Point him out. I'll make sure he's taken care of!" "First, you have to chill," he begins to turn the situation back on his brother, running both hands up Jared's arms, "and stop doing stuff for me. I `am' capable of being my own man. I'm not the helpless college boy I was 4 years ago. Look, I even sorted out the problem of Shayne, that horrible boy, trespassing onto `our' property!" "I never said he was horrible." "I know you didn't, but Shayne, or anyone for that matter, who `you' think is doing harm, immediately you think they are no good." Mediocre look coming over his brother, Jared didn't have much to stand on. When someone you think about as being `evil', turns out to be a lovable dude, it kind of makes what you thought about them in the beginning, crumble. "Well, I have to admit, I didn't think much of Callum when I first met him." "Forget Callum. What about Shayne? You were ready to have him arrested." "Don't be ridiculous." "I'm not being ridiculous. So far, anyone I've met, if aren't compelled to kiss my ass, they have you to answer to?" Feeling bent out of shape, Jared says, "you're being ludicrous." One thing Jared liked being, was in control. Right now, his `little bro', getting the upper hand, he started to lose it, back down, break the chains of Kelly's hands on both arms. Turning his back, walking towards a tree, "or maybe it's me." If anything, even though his brother didn't back him up, that time, years ago, when their father was pummeling his back with a leather strap, the closeness of the two brothers was something which could stand the test of all time. That bond, regardless of their differences, would remain strong, which is why Kelly, instead of acting in a rebuking manner, approaches Jared from the rear. Weaving hands in between Jared's arms and sides, he brings them around, forming an arc, fingers flat against abs, right under the pecs. Perfectly situated, Kelly's head could rest on his brother's shoulder, chest up against his back. "I don't' want to argue with you." How could Jared not see that, with a hug like a lover would deliver, on the verge of making up. "Me neither." Feeling his brother giving in, Jared had a little guilty sense, that it should have been him first in reconciling. Turning in Kelly's arms, had them both move `like lovers', hugging chest to chest. Regardless of everything that has happened, "you know, Callum and I, we've been hanging out together?" "Oh," Kelly gets one little dig in, "you have been thinking of yourself and not `me'?" Up until this moment in time, Jared realizes his part in being the overprotective brother. If he had only taken time to connect, instead of worrying, telling others how to act towards Kelly, he might have seen for himself the man Kelly has matured into. With this in mind, he reveals, "you know, Callum is a good man and he has this idea, which he's had for a long time, that he would like to take a trip to the UK." Smiling now, Kelly's whole persona had a change of heart, "um, and you're wondering if I can take care of things while you're gone?" It was something Jared was reluctant to mention, even though Kelly has shone some worth, handling the situation with a certain trespasser, "do you think you're capable?" "Me? It's not about me. You think I can handle things?" Sketchy on it, Jared scratches his head and indirectly answers, "well, you know, if you have any problems, you have Kenny to fall back on?" "Or that bumbling idiot I have for a house manager?" Jaw dropping, Jared says, "Hugh Bonhomme? I thought he would be a good match, but if he's not up to your expectations, I could..." "There you go." It made Kelly retreat. With his back against one tree, Jared on the other side of the path, it looked like they were ready to do battle all over again. "You have to let me handle my own problems. Well," Kelly had to say, being his house manager really did no wrong, "I can handle Hugh. Like with Shayne, I opened relations between us, instead of sealing off our properties with a `Mexican' wall. Look where it got us?" Then, stepping towards Jared, the tension lets up, "look where it got you, a trip to the UK?" Unlike all brothers, the bonds between these two were strong. Anger or differences could cause waves between them, but it didn't take long for them to achieve calm. "Then," Jared manages to forgive, forget, move on, "I suppose I can make reservations tomorrow." For his brother to dismiss all anxiety, about whether he could run things while he was gone, Kelly says, "oh, by the way, I've solved all your problems over Ainsley." Sensing not a whim of vagueness, decisiveness in his bro's voice, Jared says, "oh. Great. Like, how does that go?" "Well," Kelly smiles, knowing Jared will be proud of him once again, "Shayne was looking for a housekeeper and it's a position Ainsley could do, become his own person and for once in his life, earn a salary for what he is doing." "Not entirely true. I had Kenny keep track of all the hours Ainsley put in. There's a savings account at the bank in his name, in case he ever decides `not' to be a slave anymore. In this day and age, we all need a bankroll hidden away for such dire needs." "How could anyone ever `not' love Ainsley?" Truthfully, without saying, Jared had felt that kind of affection whenever Ainsley was in his bed. Though he kept such thoughts from sinking in, being he thought he didn't deserve as much, after what he did to his brother. For years Jared has been wearing the guilt. It made all the difference in the world, Kelly coming home, fitting in, finding a boyfriend like John, though Jared would have chosen differently for his brother. Regardless, as he realizes now, that's Kelly's choice. "You done good." Smiling, situations repaired, Kelly says, "thanks. It means a lot to me that the head honcho is pleased." "Hey," the atmosphere clears dramatically, "as of midnight tonight, you're officially the `head honcho!'" "Yikes! That's all the advance warning you're giving me?" "Don't think you can handle it little brother?" With the chumminess of something more than brotherhood, each feeling up the other's arms, close camaraderie once again returns. "Sure I can handle it," Kelly replies with strong confidence. With a little more emphasis, "go get on your plane and take a month for all I care!" Once again, drawing each other back together, they were like reconciling lovers, Jared saying, "I don't think I could be away from you that long." "Better make it no more than three weeks," Kelly agrees. So engrossed in themselves, they didn't detect footsteps on the path. "Cheating on me already, Jared?" Coughing, clearing their throats, hopefully the air around them, Kelly says, "oh. Hi there, Callum. I hear you and Jared are going on vacation?" Rather than answer Kelly, Callum turns to Jared, "oh, I thought you couldn't get away?" "Um," Jared tried to think up something quick, "yeah, well that was then and this is now. Kelly and I, we had this talk and he seems to think he can keep it together while I'm gone." >From the stern look on his face, Callum lightens up, "oh, well that's excellent." Kelly jokes, "so, is this a honeymoon you're planning?" Both gave Kelly a strange look, which gave him a clue, to move on. "Okay, well I better go see what everyone else is up to." Frankly, Kelly had no idea what team who was on, nor how many trainers. He knew of a few of the trainers, Nick, Callum and Myels. Then, with a snap of the fingers, "Travis McIntosh!" He attributes forgetting about Travis, because he's the only trainer who didn't cross his path. Rather than wait, he made it his goal to go find him. After all, he's supposed to be training with him and it would be nice if he could start today. % Meanwhile, for the first time in his life, John was feeling `important', or rather working at something which he showed a general interest for. His mentor, Brice Carnes, seemed to know a lot about animals and their welfare. However, it wasn't as much about the farm which fascinated John much, as whenever Brice was forced to swat that mop of a hairdo out of his face. "If I's was ta tell ya sumthin', ya wouldn'ta get mad at me, wouldja?" They were about to have the first egg roll down the chute, so naturally, Brice thought it was about that, "of course not, John. Ask me anything and I'll try to have an answer for you." "Ain't really a question. I probably shouldn'ta be tellin' ya this, but yer hair. It's pretty." It threw Brice for a loop, but it's not the first time a guy would compliment him on his `Tom Bull' hair styling, eyes, nor peer down, sizing him up at his lower anatomy! "Thanks John." Fortunately for Brice, the hen finally broke forth with bounty. "I think itza comin'. Our first egg!" But the egg didn't come rolling down the chute, which had Brice pondering, "hmm, maybe we got this momma pegged all wrong!" "Hmm," John replies, watching as Brice moves his `beautiful' bod around. Investigating, why the egg didn't come forth, Brice's hand feeling under the hen, produces, "aha!" Then what should have been a glorious moment, John shrieks, "oh no-o-o-o!" >From one hand to the other, Brice tries recovering the egg, which falls a few inches to the ground and rolls away. Plagued with grief from the mishap, Brice feels melancholy, over John's concern. Right after, what seemed to be important was not so much as the first egg produced on Magonagle land, but that, in retrieving the rolling orb, top of Brice's hand brushes against John's crotch! The two, staring at each other, they knew what had taken place. "Sorry," Brice felt he had to explain more, "uh, you know I didn't do that," he gulps, "on purpose?" A good sport about it, John jokes, "Yep. I knowed that, but don't mean it weren't feelin' good!" They both stood, as if on cue. Brice rose up, egg in the care of his hand, "good. I'm glad we have an understanding." Then, was Brice ever glad to see Ainsley walk in the door! Immediately he changed the subject, "hey, Ainsley, look what we've got. Our first egg!" "That's very nice, um." "Brice," Brice said, thinking either they've never introduced themselves. Or, could have been he might be a little anxious over what has just taken place, "you know you can drop all the formalities, Ainsley?" It was bothering Ainsley, while following Shayne back to his place. In fact, it took Shayne to explain, that maybe Ainsley's life, former self, was unraveling and with it would come change. Shayne had presented Ainsley with the question, if he wasn't compelled to be a `slave', or his housekeeper, where would his interest lie? In sharing, Ainsley had said, long time ago, before he made his fantasy a reality, becoming a bonafide slave, that at sixteen he had missed out on much. Even in preteen years, he liked animals, science and had dreams of working at farm life. Though, with aging, dreams become back seat to what becomes important. Rejection at coming out play a big factor in Ainsley's running away. Having been abused since a toddler, those who bullied him at school seemed like the way life was supposed to go. More involved in work than family life, a lone child fends for himself. In 10th grade, Ainsley experience his first bonafide `workover'. Cornered in the boy's room, at his local high school, Ainsley was held by two dudes, one holding each of his arms. A third made a fist, plunging it into his stomach. Certainly, as any would do, it made him belch out loud. Picking up on the dialogue, the gut-puncher called it, `sweet', whether sound he made or the fact it didn't seem to phase Ainsley. Probably what the punching bully never picked up on, was the tingle Ainsley felt in his balls. He never let on, that the more he was punched in the stomach, the greater the feeling of churning in his teen balls. Even when he lay face down on the cold bathroom floor, the bullies gone, Ainsley found himself grinding his crotch into it. It seemed impossible that he could get a full erection out of the abuse, but yeah...turning over onto his back, he hoped no one would enter the door while jerking himself off. Worst yet to come, Ainsley couldn't feel hate for bullies, whom could make him feel so good. Fantasies began to build in his mind and unending nights of jerking off in bed, extended to beyond the realm of high school. Those high school bullies became replaced by a teacher, coach, football player. As he rode the bus home, out of the window he peered at likely candidates for future fantasies, the mechanic who worked down at the service station pumping gas, shirtless construction workers digging ditches, landscapers, a businessman sitting in a car, parked at a light, next to his bus. Ainsley even pictured the pastor, every Sunday, belt in hand, working out repentance for his evil nature, in lieu of listening to the sermon. Though, trough it all, on the school bus, gas fill up, at church, Ainsley was amazed, if he thought hard on it, he could control moving his cock from pointing straight, outwards, channeling it to go down a pants leg, until the feeling subsided. He often would stand or sit, left hand in his pocket. Good thing pants had deep pockets! Though, when a slave, for his former master, he wasn't even required to wear pants. Fact remaining, a long, stiff, hard cock was a good thing. He didn't keep his shaft under wraps until being signed over to Jared. Now, putting that life behind him, Ainsley was faced with making his own decisions. In addition to helping to keep Jared's `castle' up and running, Ainsley's position became working the `leather' section at the store in town. His first day, he was introduced to Stig Larson, manager of the leather `room'. Certainly there had to be a connection to the store environment, which had Stig designing the `leather kilt'. However, there was more on Stig's mind than kilts, which brought on cultivation of a whole array of leathery items. A casual peruser of Magonagle's `Kilt, Fife and Drum' store, would not have access to this division, except by being invited, or as a matter of reference from the outside. Certainly, leather kilts were part of the whole store inventory, but accompanying items and accessories were behind closed, locked door. With Stig as his mentor, Ainsley was learning the `leather' trade, kilts and other merchandise. With this, he found a friend in Stig. Not only a true friend to pal around with, dinner date, hiking in the woods, Stig showed Ainsley what one could experience without the restraints of slavery. His whole life devoted to being a `bottom', one of the things which irked Ainsley, was filling Stig's emptiness. Once he learned how one of the gadgets sold behind the locked door worked, Ainsley had to prove he knew how to operate the implement. A good salesman did not work only from the paper directions in the box! Weirdly, Ainsley did not miss being the humble one all the time. Like, after Stig showed him how this `gas mask' worked, he had to prove he could sell one. Himself as game, Stig had Ainsley put him on his knees. Hands cuffed behind his back, Ainsley put the leather mask, rubbery hose attached, over Stig's head and fashioned it comfortably in place. Tricky part of the whole scenario was making sure the mask end of the hose fit in Stig's mouth. Knowing the reason for this, Ainsley had prepped himself, drinking a quart of water beforehand. In hesitation, of having the tip of his cock at the other end of the hose, Stig delivered a sloppy, "well?" With suddenly being cast out of the world of slavery, into the real world, the burden of making a living weigh heavy on Ainsley. The salary was adequate, but the real money came from commission, made on selling the items in the room. He had a stronger desire to be in Stig's position, but that's not how life worked for him anymore. Like being on the other end of the `horse', an item of furniture by which the `bottom' was attached, for the purpose of fucking, instead of his long, hard rod pumping in and out, he slowly began to release tension, a flood of piss moving into the tube. Followed by whipping the mask off, pumping in and out, till cream streams down Stig's throat, it's the only way to find out if Ainsley could properly assure the sale of the item. Somehow, live demonstration was a better assurance of selling an item, than providing an online video. All good, Ainsley wasn't knocking the kinky job he had at the company store. It gave him a view of the two sides of life which he enjoyed. He liked being outdoors in the fresh country air, but also the dim lit room at the company store. Too, he has developed an affection for Stig, as friend and mentor. Stig had even mentioned his inability to get along with any guy, to the point of developing a love-relationship, yet then why has he turned on his own words? Turning in on himself, it has been a puzzle, as to why Ainsley had learned to `love' the boys who tormented him in the boys bathroom, in high school. Even though he never let on to them, he didn't mind at all getting cornered by the same trio, over and over again, in the boy's bathroom, under the track and field bleachers, or in the boathouse down at the lake. It's not the reason he ran away from home. Not being accepted at being gay and the direct opposite affection shown by his mother and father, there was enough reason for a sixteen year old to pack and leave. Though, through all of his experiences of life, he's never felt like the person he is today...and he's liking it! Having given Shayne the short version of his life story, he supposes it's the reason he has found himself at the barn. In sharing with Brice, his life story in 25 words or less, leaving the `Stig-part' out, Ainsley says, "and that's when Shayne said to scoot, get out of there and go follow my dream." Opposed what he knew about Jared's slave, Brice saw a big change in Ainsley, "well, no better time than right now," he passed the egg over, into the former slave's hands. "Thank you..." it was on Ainsley's mind to say `sir', but looks up, smiles, says, "Brice." "That's good," Brice pats Ainsley on the shoulder, "you'll get the hang of it. Now all we have to do is work on," Brice casts a thumb over his shoulder at John, "him!" A university student at one time, he felt pity for John, thinking he probably didn't finish high school. He already knew, from meeting his step-brother, Ryan, over on the loading dock at the factory, John did not live a very happy life, did not have the advantages Ryan had, living with their shared father. Coming from a good home, caring parents, it's how Brice felt. He wasn't the only one who knew how fortunate he was growing up, being loved, cared for. His brothers, Jeff, Cliff, Jay and sister, Colleen all share the same feelings. Beyond that, he also had extended family who lived nearby, cousin Keran Cleary and Keran's stepfather, Uncle Kevin. Brice's uncle never married and it was quite by chance he took in a wandering boy, Keran, raising him up like he was his own. Keran wouldn't be the first, nor the last individual who chose to run away from home, leaving their troubles behind. His stepfather had indeed treated him like his own, teaching a trade, related to farm work and finding an interest in it all, was shown support, working his way through agricultural school. Same age as Brice, they went off to the same college, sharing the same dorm room. It was then, the first time Brice got wind of Keran being gay. Open about it, to each other, it was the first time Brice ever told anyone about maybe he might like boys too! Keran didn't pressure Brice, rather it being the other way around. Matter of fact, Keran was just standing there in their dorm room, after having stripped down to his briefs, readying for a shower, when Brice made his move. They would laugh about it later, how Keran stood there like a statue, didn't flinch a muscle, as Brice touched him. Though, when they started kissing, Keran loosened up. Thus, it began, sharing a bed. Though they had a falling out of sorts, when Keran came back, from a class which was cancelled, finding Brice in bed with a college girl! No one could be more surprised than Brice. He did have guilt, feeling like he had done something terribly wrong. He tried excusing his actions, by telling Keran he didn't know how to approach him, to tell him. Brice was troubled about how he felt, torn between emotions for both men and women. Not the only confused one, Keran left and didn't come back to the room for a week, except to pick up stuff. He knew Brice's class schedule, so managed to be there when Brice wasn't. He happened to shack up with another couple, sharing the same room and it was through them he thought about reconciling what they had, with Brice. Frankly, Keran didn't know anything beyond being either gay, or straight. So, in a way, this was an education for him. Thankful, that when things go wrong, there's usually a reason for it happening, and coming out of this, Keran developed the insight of not jumping to conclusions. It was he who came back to the room, checking Brice's schedule, to make sure he `was' there and apologizing, book bag over his shoulder, suitcase in hand. One thing which did not happen, the cousins never slept together for the rest of the duration of college. They did rekindle their friendship. After talking with the rest of the extended family, Keran has gotten wind about where Brice now works and... oh, that's the other part of Brice's family history. He wasn't the only one born gay! Keran and Brice would laugh about it, joking about his poor parents, 4 of their 5 children, born gay! Fortunately, the parents weren't prejudice, throwing their full support behind their children, regardless of what they believed themselves to be. Fact is, when Keran saw this, he chanced coming out to his stepfather. Brice could have warned Keran there was no reason to be shy about it. Rightly, Brice had his sneaky suspicions about Uncle Kevin, which came to light when he went along with Keran, to break the news. Good listeners, Ainsley and John were very attentive to Brice's story of his family history. "It was comical, how it came out, mutually, almost within a matter of seconds, to have my Uncle Kevin say it, before all the words were out of Keran's mouth, `yeah, I know...I am too!' And then," Brice shrugs both shoulders, "we had a three-way hug!" "That's is sum story, Brice," John says. Ainsley, not sure what to say, except, "I wish my family could have been as accepting." Though, it has irked Ainsley, old ghosts, is he really unhappy over the chain of events of his life? It's brought him to here, this place in time and two... original thoughts, two guys, amending them, the freedom to think of Brice and John as two `hot' guys! "Thanks," he lightly tosses the egg up and catches it, "but I better get this on ice, before it's no good to eat." "Oh-h-h-h," John winds, "I thought it wassa a kind that's gonna hatch into a chick!" Brice had to sigh, John taking the egg from him, treating it like it was a little chick, petting its shell. He says to Ainsley, "you guys knew I was kidding?" Living the life of a `slave', you don't always have the luxury of being talked nicely to. It's one of the catching-ups Ainsley hoped to accomplish, learning to mold back into society and regain that kindness people show towards one another. Passing from his former master, to Jared, life was definitely better. If he stayed, Ainsley had the feeling he could fall in love with him, and even though not on the same level, learn how to love, something which he has always had a yearning for, but knew the goal unobtainable. "Well, you had me convinced," Ainsley says, "but, un-uh, I think John has a difference of opinion." It still felt like speaking a foreign language, when addressing his new friend by his first name. When everyone you meet is a `Sir', calling them by a specific name, he had to stop and think. All Ainsley could think of it as being a `complicated' thing, one in which only time could sort out. Gravitated to John and the `chick', it showed Brice, beneath the chain and everything else of Ainsley's past life, there lie a big heart. One thing about Brice, even though smart, he was also a people person when it came to emotions. With a brief history of how Ainsley came to be at the estate, he comments out loud, but really meant for himself, "we'll have to work on that." Brice had a faith about things. Not a super-religious person, he couldn't get it through his head that some quark or quirky arrangement of protons, doing a neutron dance, brought human existence into being. Whether a higher force or the way his folks brought him up, something beyond his understanding had put him in this place, situation, all for a purpose, he didn't look upon things as crystal clear yet. Working at the Magonagle estate barn, Brice assumed the role of Clark Kent in his latter years as a farm boy. He felt, at 28-years old, he was overdue in finding his real place in the world. With this feeling coming over him, one thing always led to the next step, which had him glancing between John and Ainsley. Certainly, both enticing, there were two situations which, as a result of impending actions, could reap reward or consequences. As Brice saw it, any action on his part, with John, would certainly hurt Kelly. Not only the `boss', he didn't think it would jeopardize his position, but who could work at a job where they did the boss dirty? `Ainsley', on the other hand, he wasn't attached to anyone. It was also driving up Brice's senses, to see him dressed in shorts, boots and the only other adornment, the chain and lock around his neck. Not which he was slighting Willow, Brice wasn't sure how that was going to turn out. Certainly, she was a nice enough woman, but that's the thing, did he want to spend a lifetime with a `girl'? Why did life have to be so complicated? Then, what was said between the other two, which distracted Brice, hearing Ainsley `correct' John on something spoken, actually made him feel sad. Kelly should of been happy that Ainsley took the initiative to help John reposition words or in order to form a more rhetorical understanding. Couldn't he have done the same? Not with anger, but rather compassion, Ainsley approaches the two. Being a loner for a long, long time, it entailed thinking, lifting a hand, placing it on Brice's shoulder. In his `former life', it was forbidden to touch another man, unless instructed to do so. That would be something he was beholden to Jared for, springing him from the prison of keeping to oneself, which in essence, brought on a new meaning for the role of a sexual partner. Even as he thought about taking that step, touching Brice's shoulder, it was a big gamble. However, this a different place in time, with a whole divergent set of rules to work with, as Doc Watson has instructed, even though there were people around who could help, Ainsley needed to take the first step. Another point brought across by the good doctor, a problem with not reacting right off, the moment slips by, the opportunity gone, which is why, when he did set a hand on Brice's shoulder, it was more like grabbing attention, rather than a subtle approach. In doing so, Brice turns attention away from John, "yes?" Nervously, Ainsley stutters, "uh...um..." "Well, spit it out man," and knowing a little about the life Ainsley has come from, "free country. State your mind," Brice adds a chuckle. "Well...all I wanted to say is, I bet with a joint effort, we could turn around John's whole vocabulary?" Somehow, beyond what he could read on Brice's face, the smile made Ainsley much less nervous. It was very much how, over time, he began to look at Jared as a mentor and friend, instead of dominant master. Brice liked the plan. Or, maybe there was more than a plan which was making him want to reach out, even the possibility of `touching.' Instead of allowing the idea fall on himself, or even Ainsley, Brice didn't wish to make this a 2-to-1 decision, "what do you think about that, John?" Perhaps John and Ainsley did have something in common. Whereas the former `slave' came across as a quite learned man, John was kept prisoner by the lack of knowledge. Brice had seen this in him, but overall, what John lacked in speech and textbook knowledge, he had shown a calm, compassionate side. Right now, if he had to make a choice, between the two, Brice could not. Regardless, what did it matter anyhoo? These were different times than his own growing up period and as the 1980's and 90's widened the generation gap, so did other ideas that followed. He hasn't heard it said a whole lot, but others reciting `be a gladiator', Brice put on the lustrous cap of thinking, "yeah, I think we could be a good team, if we put our minds to it." For John, that lost moment in time, a short period when a person should respond, slips by, Brice and Ainsley take up the slack, and like 2 Dr. Doolittle's, begin talking over John's re-education. More interested in keeping the egg comfy, John continued petting and talking to it. It drew the other two into the compassionate moment. "Ain't that the sweetest thing you've ever seen?" Brice says. He meant it for the benefit of all, but strangely, Brice found himself face to face with Ainsley. The nervous demeanor, of thinking for one's self returned, Ainsley evading the question, "you talking to me?" Slowly, thoughts of being bisexual had been fading from Brice's thinking and sure of it, he wasn't reluctant to say to another man, "wish it was more than talk!" % On a quest to find his HG trainer, Travis McIntosh, Kelly had the grounds wide open to seeking him out. Suddenly, there were no heavenly bods running past him, forcing him to the side of the trail. Then it came to him, HG training not only being about getting the old ticker revved up. Kelly knew there were other things involved in training, but wasn't sure where those activities were practiced. Answer to that question wasn't more than 30 feet up the pathway, two men jogging towards Kelly. "Hey, Kelly!" one of the voices rang out. If he didn't know Doc Watson's voice by now, Kelly might as well resign to the fact he was getting senile! Closer the two men got, the more Kelly would stand there, forgetting why he was on the path, to seek and find. For how many years had Kelly sat there in front of his therapist, dressing him out of his shirt, tie, jacket, mentally, wanting to see what he looked like under the linen facade? Not only a treat to see his shrink, but right next to him, what Kelly perceived as his doc's boyfriend, this hot, hairy, bearded man next to him. Any man could feel what Kelly's sensing now, two hotties approaching...and fast! Into about 4 sessions of psychotherapy, every session thereafter, Kelly would be greeted with a warm hug. If he knew Doc Watson was also seeing Jared, perhaps he wouldn't have felt so overwhelmed that first time, the doc giving him a chummy side hug, arm over the shoulder, somewhat like best rugby buddies. Little did he know, Doc and his brother had moved beyond strict office sessions, mixing it up into a cocktail of therapy and sex! So, 100 or so sessions later, to have Sam Watson run along on the path, meet up with Kelly and have their bods collide, "really, Doc?" It wasn't about a full hug, in public, but rather the fact, Sam having jogged from the training field, halfway to the front gate, he had worked up quite a sweat, one which replicated having stepped out of a shower! "Oh," Sam steps back. After looking down between them, seeing Kelly's sweat-soaked shirt, "uh, sorry `bout that!" "You should be, Sam," Scott says, having caught up, being a foot behind. Insensitive, yet joking, Scott places a hand on Sam's stomach, "you'll have to excuse his blind ignorance!" Kelly could tell something special between them. Scott, instead of being sincerely reprimanding, was rubbing his hand up and down his shrink's abs, like oiling them up. "Maybe I'll let it slide this time." Pulling a tee shirt from where it was slipped partially down the back of his jogging shorts, Scott says, "not sure this is any drier, but I could offer you my shirt?" Thinking Scott's ass probably as ripe as all that sweaty fur, "uh, I think I'll pass, but thanks for the gesture." "Okay. Well, I've got to get to my horses." With that, Scott jogs on, leaving Sam there. "Horse?" Kelly questions. "Yeah," Sam explains it all, "supposedly, Scott is an authority on horses. He convinced your brother no farm is complete without a dozen of so." It wasn't necessarily what interested Kelly, opening up the discussion, "so, you and Scott?" Implication was enough, his shrink saying, "yeah. From the first time I lay eyes on him, `I knew'. Nice catch, eh?" In a way, complimenting the doc, "oh? I was thinking it the other way around, for Scott!" Then, from way, way up the trail, they hear a manly voice bellowing out, "Sam, you coming, or what?" "Oh! I guess I better be going then," Sam says, placing his feet in motion. "Talk soon?" It made Kelly smile, thinking of way, way back in time, whenever a session with the psycho-analyst ended, with departing words, `talk soon'. In an affectionate way, even though out of shouting range, Kelly reiterates, "yeah. Talk soon." Reason Doc Watson was there, was not only on his account, but Jared saw fit that he and his brother both carry on with treatment with a `top' man in the field. It even made Kelly's smile broader, like the first time Jared had mentioned the doc's credentials in that manner of thinking. Younger, when being cocky with his brother, questioning him about `size', being he was `top' man, Kelly didn't think he would get a straightforward answer. That's why the smile, thinking, how could Scott run, after having that fat spike pumped into his rear-end! Laughing to himself, he turns around to set steps in motion, when he accidentally moves into the `oncoming traffic' lane! Fortunately, the runner had slowed when approaching Kelly. The one thing he hadn't counted on, even though swerving to his right, there was Kelly, in his path! Stunned, cast to the ground on his ass, it took all he could muster up, to roll up his bod into a concave position, boosted by hands on the ground. From there, Kelly looked upon a pair of hairy legs. Following the limbs, his eyes met up with a plaid pattern, which because of the business the family was in, recognizes it as a kilt. Glancing further, right above the belt which held it up, he gazes upon a bushy stub of hair, indentation where the navel is, move hair and then a face, looking point blank down on him. A bearded mouth opens to say, "are you okay?" Quick check, Kelly says, "far as I can tell, no broken bones." Reaching out a hand, "here, let me help you up." It happened, just like in the movies, when the handsome stranger helps the victim up, pulling so hard, it launches him into the chest of the person who causes the other to be knocked off his feet. "Oh," each said to the other. The kilter says, "I didn't realize you were so light." In turn, Kelly, who is not sure what to say, "I didn't know you were so...handsome!" It drew the stranger's lips into a smile. He could have explained what he was feeling way back on the trail, when Kelly was but a small stick on the horizon, but rather than words, closes the gap between them. At that moment, when something so bold strikes a person, who can think, when everything seems so right? It's after the kiss, Kelly suddenly realizes the implications. Probably he should have been thinking about cheating on his boyfriend, but instead all Kelly could register, was the feeling of his rapidly beating heart. He thought he meant it as a joke, but instead of fully backing away, Kelly still had a grip to the shoulders, "oh wow...I think I'm in love!" The other guy didn't know how, at first to explain his heart beating like a marching band drum out of control and the pulses under his kilt, until Kelly opened up, "I feel the same." Though more passionate, his hands run around Kelly's back, drawing him in for another assault of the lips. Strangely, Kelly didn't fight the feeling. It felt as natural as anything, following desire and want. This time, when they broke off the kiss, Kelly asks, "do I get to know the name of the guy I'll just kissed twice?" "Keran...but they call me Kevan. You can call me anything you'd like." Feeling silly now, "hi Kevan. I'm Kelly. Nice, `running into ya!'" "Yeah," Kevan acts apologetic, "sorry about that. I tried dodging to my right, but you came right into my path. I couldn't avoid it." The way he felt now, Kelly wasn't sure, "maybe it was fate." Having lost his hold on Kelly, Kevan takes up holding both hands, "I'd like to think it was something that brought us together. Like," he whimsically looks to sky, "that maybe the wind blew you in my path at just the right moment?" With eyes returning to Kelly, he can only think of, "like a fairy tale." Then, cutting a joke of his own, Kevan says, "yeah, for two fairies!" It's then Kelly thinks about the third `fairy', "oh damn!" "Problem?" Kevan's heart raced, like this was not meant to be fate. Heart racing for a different reason, Kelly wasn't sure how to explain, `John', "uh, yeah," he put it off, "I'm supposed to be putting on this big barbecue later and haven't even started to plan it." "Oh, is that all?" Kevan was relieved. "If I can do anything to help?" "Sure, soon as I find my way back home. Uh, you wouldn't happen to know your way around?" "Matter of fact," Kevan offers, with decisiveness, "other than that way back there," he casts a thumb over his shoulder, signifying the way he came, "I kind of got separated from my group and..." "No. I'm lost myself!" Though, the way Kevan was thinking, he couldn't have been lost with a more handsome stranger. "Well then," Kelly makes a decision for both of them, "maybe we should head back from where you came." He could have led Kevan back down the path from where came, but then that would have meant they would wind up at the barn and then he would be pressured to explain and him and John. Already, Kelly was thinking of Kevan as such a nice person and there had to be a better way of explaining, other than giving him the immediate brush off. % Meanwhile, back at the barn, John and Brice were getting themselves all smelly, raking up `chicken shit', even though there was one hen, but a lot more than that from the five cows on site! They had gotten into a contest, hurling the dung back and forth, in the form of words. "You reek like...like I dunno what ya are!" John hurls at Brice. Brice turns to Ainsley, "do I?" Smiling, for one reason, he knew he couldn't possibly get into any trouble, hurls back, "yeah, you do." Brice had to admit he did smell a little ripe, which had him saying, "I know a shortcut to the lake, if you all are game?" He didn't even wait for John's answer, taking the rake from him and with setting them both against a fence, "ready, get set, go!" Like the `game', John peeled out, right on Brice's tail. In no time, after running cross the main trail, through a few low lying bushes, serpentining through a forest of tall trees and breaking into a meadow of grass, it was a matter of swinging open a gate and they were diving, one after the other, into a swimming pool. John recognized it right off, as Kelly's pool, "how'd ya know all that?" Hand, like a priest blessing the elements, Brice says, "I have a good sense of north, south, east and west. Kind of like a built in GPS." "What's that?" Even though in the dark about world events, Ainsley had the opportunity to keep up with technology, "GPS? Guidance system?" Floating on his back, he uprights himself, "don't tell me you've never heard of it?" Brice, on account of the cool water of the lake wasn't keeping him `cool', already `sat' in the water, arms flailing about for steadiness, "looks like more than John needs an educating, Ains?" `Ains' had to admit, the possibility of anyone, given their own personal state of mind and being, could be lacking in one area or another, "of course. Sorry John." Standing in water depth, up to the top of his shoulders, John lifts both out of the water in a shrugging motion, "Its'sokay. Probbly a lotta things I never even hear of." At least that's what he was thinking, since making his way into `real' civilization. "Hell, didn't know Ryan had a mobly-phone, till he show me his!" `Mobly,' Brice thought it so cute of John. Good thing about loins covered by a lake not so crystal clear, its easy to hide one hand working the moby-dick! While raking up the crap back at the barn, John opened up, talked away the minutes, spilling his life history. After a while, Ainsley and Brice knew more about John, except maybe the brother he adored. Now, learning even more, it made the other two, bend forward, turn into `swimmers', plowing through the water until there with John, toes barely touching bottom. Brice made the first move, "well, what you used to know is going to change, if..." he stops, continues, "Ains and me have anything to do about it!" Frankly, Ainsley, or as he's caught for the second time, affectionately being called, `Ains', didn't know how to handle approaching a person on many accounts, so follows Brice's lead, slightly bobbing up and down in the water, toes against pebbles propelling his way towards John. With his convictions, Brice could not hold back. He wanted to so badly do this in the barn, but for whatever reason hesitated. Now, heart filled with pity, or it could have been a different reason, he grabs John up in his arms and hugs him. Aware of Ainsley right there, he breaks off one arm, saying, "well, what are you waiting for, Ains?" He did wonder if Brice were for real. Most likely, it was Brice's motioning his head, beckoning him to `come on,' which finally had Ainsley engaging in the love triangle. % Having backtracked, Kelly and Kevan had come upon the field and forest, where HG practice took place. Upon seeing an empty field and nothing but the sounds of nature, Kevan speculates, "I guess practice is over?" Kelly says, "or they could have run off. There's been a lot of that going on?" "Either way," Kevan nods his head, wanting very much to `run off' with Kelly! % Copyright 2018 T. Chase McPhee `GLaDiaToR EV'ry DaY' and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.