This is a work of gay-themed romantic fantasy containing explicit sexual descriptions, not always between consenting adults: if legal reasons prevent you from reading material like this or you are offended by such content please click away NOW! Otherwise enjoy my latest (possible?) series...
CHAPTER ONE: Arrival
"This is your Captain speaking!" the crackling voice over the loudspeaker called. "All passengers for Olympus Island please prepare for docking! We expect to arrive at Poseidon Terminal shortly! Repeat--all passengers for Olympus Island please prepare for departure via the forward ramp or make your way to your vehicle IMMEDIATELY! Thank you for choosing Triton Marine Transit."
These people REALLY wanted to hammer the "Olympus" theme home! Thunderbolt Technologies, (a wholly-owned subsidiary of OlympusCo LLC) Club Aphrodite, Bacchanal (a high-end Night Club), Zephyr (what seemed to be a combination of Uber Car Service and Bird Scooter and Bike Rental). Brad Fox had seen advertisements for these places and more on the Ferry ride from Seattle; an hour later he'd grown tired of scanning the rain-soaked Puget Sound and he was more than ready to disembark; as large as the Ferry was it still rocked and jostled with the waves of the stormy Sound. Fuck, he thought, I'm going to have to ride this damn thing literally EVERY time I come or go from here! Oh what fun! The handsome college sandy-haired gymnast with the cobalt-blue eyes and even "California" tann, grabbed his duffle and headed off the ship with the few other passengers heading to Olympus Island at mid-morning. Maybe I won't be coming here that often...
Disembarkation for passengers walking off was fairly quick and uncomplicated, unlike the folks who had brought their cars. Still, Brad found himself soaked to the skin from the driving rain by the time he'd made his way from the Ferry to the Terminal. Inside, the building was nicely-appointed and open with lots of room for arriving and departing passengers. A cafe counter offered a limited array of food and drink items but there were plenty of tables and chairs that looked surprisingly comfortable--especially for a Public Terminal. Standing near the main entrance the new arrival saw a stunningly handsome redhead waving a sign above his head with BRAD FOX printed in block letters. My ride? He wondered as he made his way over. Dad didn't say anything about sending a car for me...
The sign-wielder gave Brad a bright (and frankly lascivious) smile as he approached. "You must be Foxy-loxy's kid!" he commented. "You look like a less well-built version of your Dad!" He was tall and blocky, built like a Water Polo player with long arms and well-muscled legs (all very well-displayed in barely-there shorts and a deeply-cut tank top. His unruly mop of auburn curls seemed to want to go every-which-way at once and he observed the world through twinkling emerald eyes. His skin was ivory and Brad couldn't help notice, unnaturally hairless--but the young man knew most of the Swimmers and Water Polo players kept themselves shaved as a matter of course.
"Uh..." Brad didn't know how to respond to this.
"Olympus Island isn't a big town," the stranger told him. "Everybody knows everybody--and everybody knows everybody's business! That's the price of living here! Don't worry kid--I was just `funnin' you..." He gave Brad a wickedly wry grin that promised mischief.
"Ah--so everybody calls my Dad `Foxy-loxy'?"
"Dude--have you SEEN your Father?"
"Not since he moved here," the blond young man admitted. "Dad was never much for Social Media and he posts even less now that he started the new job with Dionysian Entertainment."
"Too busy having fun to post fake-ass updates!" the redhead guessed. "That's most of us around here!"
"That certainly explains why I could hardly find anything about this place on line except for huge write-ups on Club Aphrodite--which is supposed to be some super high-end Medi-Spa, and Thunderbolt Technologies of course," Brad said. His shoes squeaked on the marble floor and he shivered in his wet clothes. "I thought summer rains in Seattle were supposed to be warm and gentle!" he grumped.
"Zeusmann and his old Lady must be having another knock-down-drag-out!" the other young man observed. "Bad weather happens every time they get into it! You'd think as long as they've been together they would learn to co-exist--but No! Not those two!"
"Excuse me?" Brad didn't know what to make of this tidbit either.
Luckily the stranger decided to change the subject: "let's get you to Tres Chic and see if we can find you something a little more appropriate to Washington State in summer!" he offered. "Especially here!"
"Um--I don't have any cash on hand..." the young blond gymnast finally admitted.
"No worries!" the stranger said as the pair dashed off to an electric sedan of a type Brad hadn't seen before. "Everything is already taken care of! Oh, bee-tee-dubs', I'm Campbell Bishop! Your Guide and Zephyr' Driver!" The newly-introduced redhead produced a cup out of nowhere. "A welcome drink," he said. "This should warm you up a bit! Hope you like Spicy Hot Chocolate!"
Brad took a sip hoping the hot drink would take off a bit of the chill. The drink was thick and rich, made from excellent dark chocolate and fresh dairy cream. There was a spicy under-note the young man couldn't quite identify but it was hot and the drink spread warmth through his core quickly, chasing away the chill and damp. "That's--interesting..." he observed. "Is the chocolate infused with Chili?"
"Got it in one!" Campbell said. "You must have an educated palate!"
"I--um--had something like this on a Christmas trip to the Yucatan one year," Brad said. Truth to tell, that had an altogether different flavor and the more Brad drank the more taste differences he found. The blond gymnast was beginning to wonder if the drink had been "spiked" with something when the car pulled up to a cute little storefront. "Ah--lucky I just finished this!" he commented.
Inside, the store was considerably larger than the small storefront would have appeared. Tres Chic was as big, and just as well-stocked as any giant New York City Department Store with an array of styles and high-end brands to thrill any "Fashionista" to the cockles of their tasteful little hearts! "Men's and Young Men's is on the Second Floor," Campbell told the newcomer as he headed them toward an escalator.
"How BIG is this place?" Brad asked in wonderment as they headed upstairs.
"Six floors total!" the other young man informed him. "Bargain Basement downstairs, First Floor is Women's Wear; Second Floor is Menswear, the third floor is Children's Clothing--yes, we have plenty of rugrats here! Fourth Floor is Athletic Wear for both sexes and the top floor is for sex and fetish gear! That's where you go if you are into leather, rubber or want to cross-dress!"
"A mainstream Department Store carries leather and fetish gear?" Brad was so freaked out by the last little bit that the idea of six floors crammed into what seemed to be, at best, a two-story storefront that he didn't even register--at least not at first. "Don't you order that from specialty catalogs or over the Internet?"
"Nah," Campbell told him. "Locals like to have direct access to kink so the `Powers That Be' added another floor! Easier than trying to add a separate store I guess..."
Brad definitely noticed that last comment. "How--how did they DO that?" he finally asked as the pair stepped off the escalator.
"The store expands to the space needed," Campbell said blithely. "HomeStyle is pretty much like this place and the Cosplay Connection is HUGE! Of course the Tourists don't notice that..." He caught the eye of one of the store clerks. "Aiden--shag your Twink-ass over here!" he bellowed. "I've got some fresh meat for you!"
If you had a catalog for ordering a Twink Aiden could have been the cover model. He was shorter than Brad's 5'8" by at least two inches and he was slim, smooth and built like a willow-wand. His long hair fell in shimmering black waves over his shoulders and blue eyes shown from his alabaster skin. Brad was sure the Clerk was wearing "guy liner" and might have had something on his perfectly pink cheeks as well. Several of his fingernails were painted and his clothes were almost painfully stylish. "Ooh--poor drowned puppy!" he cooed. "What do you need sweet cheeks?"
"Clothing from the skin out!" Campbell told the clerk. "BTW--this is `Foxy-loxy's' son!"
"Now that you mention it..." Aiden gave Brad a thorough up and down examination. "Yes, I see the family resemblance! Do you have your Dad's donkey dick?"
"Uh..." Brad silently prayed for the floor to open and swallow him whole He was still coming to grips with his own sexuality and wasn't at all comfortable with such frank and open comments from strangers--especially when they concerned his not-inconsiderable endowment.
"Don't scare the Virgin!" Campbell growled.
"Fine!" the Clerk replied in his fluting tenor. "I'll get the virgin some undies and sockies to start! YOU can tell me if he has his Dad's donkey dick! Take him to a dressing room and get him stripped down!" Aiden produced a fluffy white towel from somewhere and tossed it to Campbell. "And for Gods' sake--DRY HIM OFF! He's dripping! And NOT with cum!!!"
"Don't mind Aiden," the cute redhead said. "He's a lot to handle at first but he means well! Trust me--he knows what he's doing! When Aiden is finished with dressing you, you won't want anyone else! You'll look `mahvelous dahling'! Follow me--let's get you undressed and dried off..."
Brad meekly followed the handsome redhead into a very large, well-appointed Dressing Room; like everything else it was comfortable and positively dripping in luxury. He was surprised to find Campbell had followed him in without asking for permission. "Get that stuff off!" the muscular, ivory-skinned young man said, shaking his mop of auburn curls like a dog after a bath.. "Aiden's right about one thing--you ARE dripping! How did you get so wet so quickly?" The blond gymnast began shyly stripping out of his wet clothes as Campbell took a seat and avidly watched the show.
Brad wasn't sure which way to turn: if he faced forward the other man could see his dick (and he knew he'd die if he got an erection in front of the beefily-muscled redhead with the flashing green eyes). But it he turned his back on Campbell then the guy could stare at his ass and who knew what kind of faces he'd be making: in the end the smooth-bodied gymnast opted to strip as quickly as possible and just hope nothing happened: Campbell Bishop was just the sort of guy Brad fantasized about even though he would never be brave enough to aprroach.
"Can I ask you a question?" Brad finally said, hoping to distract himself from the stud's avaricious gaze. "What are those bracelets I see a lot of you wearing?"
"Rubber band bracelets?" Campbell said, giving a casual but well-rehearsed answer. "Surely you've seen those before!"
Brad stopped his toweling and gave him a hard stare. "They aren't rubber bands!" he said bluntly. "They look like hard plastic or maybe metal: yours are deep wine red and something like vermillion. Aiden only has one: it's a pale lavender!"
"So, you already started noticing our Pledge Bands, did you?" Campbell stretched languidly, giving Brad an uncomfortable view of his ivory-skinned well-muscled frame. "I guess the Ambrosia is taking affect faster than usual! Tourists and newbies like you don't usually notice anything out of the ordinary." He fiddled with the two bracelets on his wrists. "This one means I'm Pledged to Dionysus," he said, pointing to the deep wine-red cuff. "The other one means I'm Pledged to Hermes!"
Dionysus? Hermes? That was taking the whole Olympus' thing to a whole new level. "What does Pledged' mean?" Brad finally asked.
"I can't answer that." The look that went with it told Brad the other man wouldn't answer him no matter how he pleaded, begged or threatened.
"Why not?" Brad wanted to know.
"It's forbidden."
"Forbidden? By who?" What the FUCK have I wandered in to? Brad was seriously starting to freak out. "Is this place some kind of weird cult? Don't tell me--it's `forbidden', right?"
"No, THAT question I can answer!" Campbell replied. "It's not a Cult--well maybe it is--but it's a business! We're a community--a real Brother and Sisterhood!!"
"In other words, a Cult..." Brad replied: at least this revelation had distracted him from his shyness and fear of being displayed. Suddenly he was very dubious about his father's "dream" job and the "amazing" community he'd move them into.
The young man might have fretted even more but he was interrupted by Aiden's untimely arrival. "Grabbed some stuff that's going to look AMAZING on you sweet-cheeks! Undies and sockies first..."
Naked, Brad held the little scrap of scarlet cloth in front of him. "What is this?" he asked.
"It's a posing strap darling!" Aiden fluted. "Everybody who is ANYBODY in town is wearing them! Your Dad has one in every color! Most of the prints too. You should see his package in the leopard-print thong..." Aiden sighed dramatically. "Want me to help slip you into it?"
"Oh God--my Dad joined a sex cult!" The young man had some trouble figuring out how to get into the barely-there undergarment (but at least it felt good once it was on). The socks, just plain black ribbed cotton came next and then Brad slipped into the jeans but found they hugged him like a second skin.
"Nice!" Campbell elaborately panted as the other man buttoned up and zipped the skintight denim. "Your ass and that basket NEED to be on display!"
"Why are they so tight?"
"Spandex mixed with the denim," Aiden told him. "Those are like dance jeans so you can be comfortable when you move! There's spandex in the tee shirt as well! A work-of-art body like yours NEEDS to be on display!"
Brad sighed: yes, he had a decent fit body but he certainly didn't FEEL beautiful: physical admiration made him uncomfortable--particularly from older men! Now Aiden had dressed him up like a sex doll for the whole town to ogle. At least the raincoat was long and he could hide in that until he got home.
"So, what do you think darling boy?" Aiden asked. "Do you love it or do you love it?"
"Thanks for the help," Brad finally said. "It's--nice, I guess... But could you find me something a little more--ah--less?"
"He's SHY!" Campbell giggled. That was decidedly at odds with his tall body and well-muscled, broad frame. Aiden hooted his approval.
"I'll have a broad array of things sent to the Fox Den!" Aiden promised. "And yes, my sweet, shy, GORGEOUS darling, I'll include some more MODEST things! If you pick stuff it'll be schlumpy sweats and oversized hoodies!"
Brad wondered how Aiden knew about his favorite attire but Campbell didn't give him time to question. "Come on buddy--your Dad is waiting for you and we're late!"
The young man was about to slip on the raincoat but Aiden grabbed it away. "I'll just send this along with the rest of your things!" he informed Brad. "The weather has changed again! It's clear and sunny so there's no need to hide that tight little body of yours!"
Brad sighed but went along with Campbell, realizing it was useless to argue.
The "Fox Den" was a massive log and stone "cabin" situated on a hill on the edge of town; large plate glass windows let in views of the nearby woods and Puget Sound. Brad was impressed by the testosterone-oozing place in spite of himself. Kyle Kingsbury, the older son of his father's "best buddy" Ward came barreling out the tall and broad iron and glass front door. "Dad--Uncle Robb!" he bellowed in his youthful treble. "Looks like Bradley FINALLY got here! You guys want me to help him bring his stuff in?"
"That won't be necessary Kyle..." Brad's father, Robert "Robb" Fox came bouncing down the broad stone staircase that led from the spacious front porch to the curb. The younger man's mouth literally dropped open in astonishment at the changes in his father. His Dad was still the same height and coloration but he looked years younger and he'd clearly been working out! The cobalt blue polo shirt, the same color as his eyes, wrapped around a chest that would have done a fitness model proud. His short Khaki pants hugged strong, tanned muscular hairy thighs. He rushed to the curb and gave his son a full-armed embrace even as he kissed him square on the mouth.
"DAD!" Brad pulled away, astonished at his father's forwardness--even though the kiss was chaste.
"Hey dudes," Campbell said from the car. "I gotta jet! The work of an on-duty Zephyr Driver is never done!" He waved and pulled away, not waiting for a word of thanks or a cash tip.
"What happened Son?" Robb asked. "I thought your Ferry was supposed to dock over two hours ago!"
"Sorry Dad..." Brad backed away from his father and dropped his head to stare at the ground so the others couldn't see his embarrassment. "I didn't bring raingear and I got soaked to the skin! Campbell, the guy you sent to pick me up, took me somewhere so I could get fresh clothes. I guess I should have called." His voice trailed off.
"No worries boyo!" his Father told him. A happy, ear-to-ear grin split the man's broad, handsome, well-tanned face and his eyes sparkled at his son's arrival. "You're here now, that's all that matters! Uncle Ward and Aunt Sheila are here with Kyle and Andrea! Come on up and say hello!"
Brad followed his father up the front stairs and was promptly hugged by his father's best friend "Uncle" Ward Kingsbury. Ward's wife Sheila gave the new arrival a hard, disapproving stare. "Look at you dressed up like a boy whore!" she commented. "Ah well--like Father, like Son I suppose..."
Brad's face blushed scarlet. "I didn't pick this out..." he mumbled as he pushed past the gathered Kingsburys.
"Sheila?" was that really necessary?" Ward asked his wife as the front door separated Brad from the bickering couple.
"I said what I think!" the woman shot back angrily. "He's dressed like a WHORE!" Brad was never more grateful for a closed, soundproof door separating Fox father and son from the clashing Kingsburys..
"I'm sorry Son," Robb said as he took his angry and embarrassed son deeper into the house. "I don't know what has gotten into Aunt Sheila of late! She's positively toxic!"
"Really?" The word simply oozed sarcasm; Brad found himself remembering a Disney Cruise he and his Father had taken with the Kingsburys after the death of his Mother from Pancreatic Cancer: he saw Ward and Robb, both clad only in Speedos, rubbing oil on one another. While his young mind hadn't been able to process the scene his older intellect realized how overtly sensuous the act was. The two men seemed to take whatever opportunity they could to touch and hug; no doubt "Aunt" Sheila had seen the same thing. It made sense she'd be angry with Robb but why was she being so hateful to Brad? That was a question the gymnast couldn't answer.
Robb seemed blissfully oblivious to his Son's discomfort: "the house has three floors," he told Brad. "Living, Dining and Kitchen are on the main floor as well as my Office and the Library. "Several bedrooms, including the Master, are on the second floor. We have a walk-out basement with a Gym, Family Room and Home Theater down those stairs: there's also a second Master with a private bathroom as well that I thought you'd like. You even have your own private Patio and Hot Tub! So you can entertain friends if you like!"
"Whatever you think best..." Brad said distractedly. Part of him was relieved that his Dad wanted him two floors away but the wounded child buried inside wondered why he'd been exiled to the basement. "It's not like I'll be here that long!"
"If you don't like the `Master-Down' you can have any room you choose on the Second Floor!" Well, at least his father wasn't completely oblivious! "This is your home too boyo--for as long as you want it to be! Never doubt that Bradley..."
"Sorry Dad," the young man said. "It's just this whole day has kind of been--how do I say it? WEIRD! There's something about this place that completely stranges me out--I don't know why! I kind of feel like I've dropped into the middle of that old movie The Stepford Wives. Honestly, I don't know why but there's something kind of fucked-up here..."
"Olympus Island is a carefully-planned community!" his Father replied. "Gay, Straight, Black, White, Yellow, Red or Brown--nobody cares here! Everyone is welcome! You'll find we do have a lot of `hippie-dippy' types that aren't afraid to speak their minds! Some people might be a bit--forward--but if you give them a chance you'll find they really are nice people!"
Ward popped his head inside. "Bruce Davies is here for your Workout," he told Robb. "Since you've got stuff to do I'm going to take the wife and kids home but we'll be back for Brad's welcome dinner!"
"See you then!" Robb said and Ben swore his father blew a kiss at the man.
Ward stood aside to let a massively-muscled man with brown brush-cut hair and green eyes step inside. His tanned arms were heavily-tattooed and there were even some on his smooth legs. Brad got a good view since, like most men in town, this new arrival--Bruce? Dressed to show it off. "Hey Foxy!" he said, coming to give Robb a VERY familiar hug. "You aren't dressed! Are we exercising naked today a la grecque?" He got a look at Brad, the young man, looking confused and upset. "Oh, your `Mini-Me' finally made it in! Do you want me to come back another day?"
"Go ahead Dad," the younger Fox encouraged. "You do your workout--I'll scout the house and maybe fix myself some lunch! All I got was a bag of peanuts on the plane!"
"Lemmie go change Bruce!" Robb ran upstairs to put action to his words and Brad followed the bodybuilder downstairs. Bruce showed him the family room and gym then left Brad to explore. The Family-Game Room was nicely furnished and let out onto a spacious patio: Brad could even see a large, in-ground pool gently steaming in the cool air outside. He found what he guessed was supposed to be his bedroom but the space was empty of everything but a closet full of neatly-hung clothes--all in his size; even the bath was fully-stocked and ready for use.
Brad heard noises in the gym and went to ask his Dad if he was in the right place but stopped in the doorway as he saw his father and the bodybuilder in a passionate lip lock. OK, so my Dad's gay... Shaken, the young man went upstairs to find lunch, unsure of what to do or say.
Brad took his time making and eating lunch but eventually he found himself drawn back to the gym; this time he found the room empty but he heard grunts, liquid slurps and slapping sounds coming from a side room. Creeping up, Brad peeked in to find a small locker room with a wide wooden bench; Robb was on his back, legs over the bodybuilder's shoulders and both men were only clad in their shoes. Robb was getting fucked and getting fucked HARD and from what little Brad knew it looked like his father was having a damn good time of it! Transfixed by shock, Brad just stood there, mouth agape, watching the scene. The Trainer glanced over and caught Brad peeking: he didn't stop slamming the man hard and fast but he gave the younger Fox a broad smile and a wink. This was enough to break the spell and make Brad flee upstairs.
Brad avoided his father until the Kingsbury family showed up an hour or so before dinner. For a while everything seemed almost normal: the adults gossiped and talked about work, Kyle was going on about plans to see the latest Marvel release at the Orpheus downtown and Andrea was busy playing Animal Crossings on her phone. Eventually though, Brad found himself alone in the huge, well-appointed Kitchen with Sheila Kingsbury and things quickly went south. The young gymnast vainly tried to help with the dinner preparation but nothing he did seemed to pleas the woman no matter how hard he tried.
He finally gave up. "Aunt Sheila--did I do something wrong...?" he finally asked. "If I did I'm really sorry--honest!"
The woman gave him a hard look. "I don't like you dressing like a boy whore and shagging your ass around my husband!" she snapped acidly. "You're WORSE than your father--and I'm not your Aunt! My husband isn't your Uncle so I'd appreciate it if you stopped referring to us that way!"
Brad blushed, caught between anger and embarrassment. "Like I said before--Aunt--um--Mrs. Kingsbury..." he growled. "I didn't pick these clothes out! Aiden at Tres Chic did--and it was either these, my wet clothes or show up to the house naked!"
"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you whore boy!" the woman seethed.
"No," the young man shot back, "I wouldn't! I don't know why you're mad--Mrs. Kingsbury..." Brad paused long enough to make sure Sheila got the reference, "...but I haven't done ANYTHING to you, your husband or your kids!" He threw the knife down, not caring if it damaged the quartz countertops. "I'm going to leave you alone--sorry again for whatever set you off but it wasn't me!" He didn't wait to hear the stream of invective pouring off the woman as he went to find someone, anyone else to talk to.
Downstairs in the Family Room Brad found Kyle eagerly dry-humping Robb while Ward watched with hot eyes. Kyle had his hand's up the older man's shirt, tweaking his nipples. "Ah--excuse me..." he mumbled.
Robb turned and saw the shocked expression on his Son's face. "Oh, hey buckaroo!" he said with false brightness. "Kyle was just giving me a hug!"
"I fucking hate it when you lie to me Dad!" the young blond man growled angrily. "I don't know WHAT'S going on in this house--this TOWN--and, honestly I don't WANT to! Clearly though, I shouldn't be here! I'll find someplace to go for the summer before I go back to UCLA and you can get on with whatever it is you're getting on with!"
"Ooh! Such DRAMA!" Kyle cooed. "Jealous much Braddie-pie?"
"Kyle--that's enough!" Ward snapped. "Look Brad, they were just engaging in a little friendly horseplay is all..."
"Really Braddie-pie!" Kyle said, giving a nasty little shimmy as he continued to hump Robb's leg. "Your Dad didn't do ANYTHING I didn't want Cool your jets!"
"You are FOURTEEN FUCKING YEARS OLD!!!" Brad screamed at the top of his lungs. "That. Is. WRONG! And the fact you don't see that is why I have to go!"
"Brad--you're not leaving." His Father's pronouncement was blunt.
"WATCH me!"
"You're Dad's right," Ward put in. "You've already been given the Ambrosia, at least one dose maybe more... You're BOUND here!"
"Bound?" Brad said, confusion breaking through his anger. "What does that even mean?"
"Son, you're going to find this hard to believe but I swear it's true!" Robb said. "Olympus Island is the Earthly home of the Greek Pantheon. Every long-term resident here has sworn loyalty to at least one of the Gods! Once you've consumed the Ambrosia--and it only takes a little--you have no choice! Yes, you can leave if you want to, but you'll be drawn back--again and again and again! If you just give yourself a little time to adjust--let yourself Adapt--I'm sure you'll be very happy here!"
"You can leave for weeks, months or even years at a time Brad," Ward added, "but eventually the pull will be too strong. It helps if you don't fight it! There are--benefits..."
"Benefits?" Brad spat. "Like becoming perverts?"
"Bradley, nobody does anything here they don't already want to!" his father tried to explain.
"Quit being so dramatic!" Kyle said. "We were just having a little fun! You know what fun' is, don't you cuz'?"
"I'm guessing the reason you don't have furniture in my bedroom was so you could trick me into sex?" Brad accused his father.
"That wasn't my choice!" his father replied. "I tried to explain--"
"You ALWAYS have a choice Dad!"
"Not when you live here, you don't!" Kyle smirked. "When the Gods want something--they get it! Eventually... And, for whatever reason, at least ONE of the Greek Gods wants you here?"
"Which one--and why?"
"I can't tell you that."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't know!" Robb finally said. "Dennys orchestrated this but I told him it was going to go badly but he insisted..."
"'Dennys?" Brad repeated. "Do these so-called `Gods" use human names?"
"They do," Robb told his Son. "These Olympians practice a sort of serial immortality like Trills from `Star Trek'.
"Totally true!" Kyle smirked. "They aren't some trilobite-looking thing thought--just spiritual force!"
"So Dennys..." The blond young man tried to remember his Greek Mythology but it was a bit of Medieval History that popped his head. Saint Dennis, Patron Saint of France was supposed have been a personification of Dionysus. "Is this Dennis person Dionysus? What does he have to do with anything?"
"He's a smart boy!" Kyle smarmed. "Pity he's such a dramatic motherfucker--he might actually get along here!"
"Dionysus is one of my Patrons." Brad noticed for the first time that one of the two bracelets his father wore was deep wine red--just like Campbell's. "I got the feeling he was acting under duress," Robb went on, "but nothing I could do persuaded him to tell me who was pulling the strings and, believe me, I tried! He had a very complex and specific set of instructions we all have to follow--and, no, I can't tell you what they are!"
"It's like a fuckin' Soap Opera here!" Kyle said brightly. "Such DRAMA!"
"Kyle--if you can't be helpful maybe you should just not talk?" Ward suggested mildly. "Bradley is upset--understandably so--maybe we need to just give him some time and space! We're all sorry we caused you distress and, you have my word, nothing more will happen!"
"What he said," Kyle said with a sly wink.
Dinner was awkward and "Game Night" was worse. Sheila was snappish and brittle, Kyle couldn't resist outrageously flirting with the older men which just made his mother angrier. The two fathers tried their best to keep the mood light and breezy without much success. Brad, near the emotional breaking point, was mostly silent and only engaged when he was forced to participate. Only Andrea seemed blissfully unaware of the tension in the room. Eventually Brad faked being sleepy and made his way upstairs to sack out on the couch. Bickering, the Kingsburys left shortly after, leaving Robb to lock the house and go upstairs.
The couch wasn't the most comfortable place to nap and sleep, when it came for Brad, was fitful. Late in the night he awoke to sounds coming from the kitchen. The sounds were entirely too similiar to what he'd heard earlier in the day. The young blond man got up and made his way to where the lights were burning to find his father pounding young Kyle on the Kitchen Island. Robb, clad only in sleep-pants that were pooled around his ankles was slamming hard into Kyle, naked but for white socks. The boy was getting pounded hard, fast and brutally and he was loudly encouraging the older man to fuck him for all he was worth.
Brad's fragile emotional state finally broke and he felt tears, unbidden, start to fall. He stepped into the kitchen. "My God Dad!" he shouted. "You couldn't fucking even wait ONE NIGHT for me to leave?"
"Jealous much?" Kyle smirked. "I've got an open hole--you and your Dad can spit roast me!"
Robb turned to face his Son; cock still buried in Kyle's grasping tight hole. "Son--I know you won't believe me--but I didn't have a choice! I didn't want to do this! Not now--I swear to you!"
"You ALWAYS have a choice!" Brad found himself crying harder than ever. Blinded by anger and humiliation, the young man ran out of the house and into the dark. He didn't know where he was going--he just needed to get away.
Brad! BRADLEY--for God's sake WAIT!"
"Calm down!" Kyle soothed. "Dionysus got what he wanted--now we can enjoy ourselves!"
Some distance away, Prometheus, chained naked on a rock in a deep crevasse smiled to himself: he felt a little bad for putting the poor abused young man through more additional pain but, in the end, it would all be worth it--or so he hoped. Brad, for all his anger and pain had an inner core of steel: that would get the boy through his troubles. Maybe after millennia of prison and endless torture Prometheus dared to hope he could be free! Even the Gods had to follow rules and those rules included an "out" to all punishment--even his. It all depended on young, damaged Bradley Fox. He sent out his telepathic voice, subtle but strong enough to cut through the young man's pain, rage and shame. {{Come to me Lad! I need your help and you need mine...}}
END CHAPTER ONE
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Shout out to Tripp Savidge: his work Bacchus Springs inspired Olympus Island and astute readers will see certain similarities--quite a few in fact. However, if you read the last paragraph you know this story just took a sharp left turn and will be traveling quickly away from Bacchus Springs. I hope you'll stick with me on this journey. To maybe ensure that, I'm adding Chapter Two below so please keep reading! You might like it!
Do you want to see more of Brad's adventures on Olympus Island? Drop me a note to HonableRonable@gmail.com or RonVenable@hotmail.com to share your comments, questions, suggestions and constructive criticisms. Likewise, if you wish to be notified when new content is published you can use either of the above addresses and I'll see you are among the first to be clued in.
CHAPTER TWO: A Voice in the Dark
"Brad! BRADLEY! For God's sake Brad..." The young man was still so upset over what he'd seen that he didn't even wonder if his father had bothered to pull up his sleep pants. "Damn it Son--you could get hurt running around in the dark! Come back--PLEASE!"
"Isn't it enough that you spoiled a wonderful fuck?" Kyle Kingsbury added. "Come on Brad--you can be as dramatic as you want! Our parents would be upset if you get yourself hurt--or worse! Not that I'd mind..."
"Not helping Kyle!" Robb Fox growled. Still this comment just made Brad move deeper into the woods behind his home.
{{They have the right of it.}} Even upset as he was, Brad could hear a deep and sonorous, yet still soft and gentle voice but he didn't see anyone and had no idea where it was coming from. {{It won't be long before your Father calls his Neighbors or the Town Watch; both groups have expert trackers so it is only a matter of time until they find you--unless you follow my exact instructions! I can help you--if you let me...}}
"Who are you?" Brad asked. "WHERE are you?"
{{I doubt if you'd believe me if I told you,}} the voice on the night wind told him, {{but I am nearby!}}
"Don't worry Robb honey!" Brad heard a new, female voice coming on the breeze. "I'm Pledged to Ares and Diana! I've already got his scent! I'll have him back to you in no time..."
{{That is your Neighbor Connie Rowland,}} the voice told Brad. {{She is a Park Ranger on the island and a Police Reservist. Even if she hadn't been gifted with Tracking Ability by Diana she could likely find you! Now choose--will you come to me?}}
{{OK, what do you want me to do?}} Brad realized that, somehow the thought had been transmitted. {{Oh my God! Are you Telepathic?}}
{{It is one of my Gifts...}} the voice told him. {{I have Confused your trail so Connie will be walking for quite some time without crossing your path! Now. Follow my instructions CAREFULLY and I will bring you to me!}}
{{Are you one of the Olympians then?}} Even as Brad spoke he found a set of mental instructions which he followed as carefully as he could.
{{I am not!}} the voice on the wind said with finality. {{I am a Titan.}}
{{Aren't all the Titans trapped in Tartarus?}}
{{Not all...}} The voice didn't elaborate and Brad found himself at a VERY difficult juncture so he concentrated on that as he cudgeled his brain to remember what few bits of Greek Myth he'd learned in Middle School.
{{You are about to come to a cave!}} the voice told him. {{I will ask you to enter shortly but be wary! Father Zeus has left plenty of tricks and traps for the unready! You MUST follow my instructions.}}
{{How can I get past them?}}
{{I'll guide you, of course!}} the voice reassured him. {{I've had literally THOUSANDS of years to learn the way! Do you trust me, Bradley Fox?}}
{{Do I have a choice?}}
{{You ALWAYS have a choice, my boy! Did you not say that to your Father earlier this very evening?}}
{{Yeah, I did.}} For the first time Brad felt real doubt creep in. {{Were you spying on me?}}
{{If you are a telepath who is chained to a rock you find your mind wanders unbidden...}} the voice replied and there was a rueful sadness there. {{I didn't set out to listen but your projection was so loud I was drawn in! I do apologize...}}
Brad's brain went into overdrive: the speaker was obviously male and said he was chained to a rock so that let Andromeda out. {{Are you Prometheus?}} he finally asked.
{{At your service!}} He seemed pleased to be identified. {{Do you see the cave directly ahead?}}
{{I do.}}
{{Approach but DO NOT ENTER!}} Prometheus told him, {{at least not yet.}}
{{What do you want me to do?}}
{{Feel directly above the entrance inside the cave,}} Prometheus told him. {{Do not enter yet because there are pits which you could fall into. You will find a wooden torch on brackets just above the entrance. The torch is guarded by large spiders and other insects and arachnids: they are there to prevent you from finding the torch! Do not fear the spiders therein: these will not harm you!}}
"Spiders--eww, gross!" Still Brad felt around and finally grabbed the torch. Then: {{got it Prometheus--what do you want me to do now?}}
{{}Hold the Torch above your head and speak the word IGNIS!}} The blond gymnast raised the Torch and spoke the word. The thing blazed to life with a neon-blue flame. {{Now you may enter the cave!}} Prometheus told him. {{If you look CAREFULLY you will find a path that vaguely glows with the same color as the flame. Follow it carefully--even if it seems you are going in circles! That is the only way you can navigate past the many tricks and traps of this place. Trust the magical sight and your own wisdom and you will make your way to me after a while...}}
Brad did as instructed; the blue-glowing path wasn't easy to spot at first but once the young man had it identified he walked carefully yet confidently. He remembered the story of Orpheus so he kept his gaze fixed forward and kept walking no matter what temptations presented themselves or what horrors he needed to pass. It's not real, he kept telling himself. NONE of this is! It seemed to take forever to make his way through the endless passages and galleries of the cave but Brad suspected that was due to time telescoping. Even so, the young man kept trudging ahead until he saw starlight shining down on a deep rocky divide with sheer rock walls. Center to this place was a gigantic rock that held a pale, naked figure sprawled thereon in the moonlight shining down.
"Hello Bradley Fox!" the man chained to the rock said as he raised his head. "Thank you for coming to visit me!"
"Lord Prometheus I presume?"
"You may simply call me `Prometheus' if you wish..." the man replied. He was tall and lanky but, even at 6'6" he wasn't THAT much of a giant. His hair, surprisingly short, neat and well-groomed for someone who had been chained for so long, was soft and brown, shot through with threads of silver. Even his beard was neatly trimmed. The features were handsome and regular; solemn gray eyes stared out from a face that looked decidedly patrician. Just below his rib cage was a ruined expanse of flesh that looked like it had been slashed repeatedly with something sharp. "It is a pleasure to have company after being alone here for so long!"
"Why aren't you a giant?" Brad blushed at this being the first question he blurted out.
"On Earth the laws of physics must be obeyed!" Prometheus told him. "Our bones would break if we tried to be our true size!"
"Ya canna' change the laws of physics, laws of physics, laws of physics!" Brad chanted, echoing the words of one of his father's favorite tracks. "Ya canna' change the laws of physics, laws of physics--Captain!"
"Star Trekkin' by the Firm?" Prometheus said. "That song is much older than you! I'm surprised you know it!"
"My Dad used to sing it to me when I was a kid," the younger man replied. "He is--or at least was, a total Star Trek Nerd!"
"He still watches the various series when he can," Prometheus told him. "Of course his Patron Dionysus keeps him very busy..."
"Screwing everything that moves!" Brad said, some of his anger returning.
"He gave your father what the silly Mortal thought he wanted," Prometheus told him. "You need to be careful of the `gifts' you ask of Gods! Very often they give you more than you anticipated! In your Father's case that's young Kyle Kingsbury! Bradley--he truly can't help himself! He is COMPELLED by Lust and not even Dionysus can take away what he has given!"
"What do you mean?" Brad said. "I have so many questions--I don't even know where to start.
"I will truthfully answer your questions until dawn," the Titan told him. "Then Zeus's Eagle will come to eat my liver and I will be in too much pain to speak for a while..."
"Tell me about these `gifts' then!" Brad decided.
"We Gods give humans a bit of our Power if you consume part of us."
"Like cannibalism?"
"A bit of flesh will suffice," Prometheus told him. "So will blood, urine or sperm. Even saliva will suffice if you consume enough of it."
"Gross!"
"Have you never taken Communion my boy?" Prometheus asked. "Some religions consider the act to be consuming the body and blood of the Savior!"
"It's symbolic!" Brad replied.
"Symbolic or not the Ritual is based on Ancient Magic!" Prometheus told him. "By consuming a bit of our essence we are able to change you in some way! In your Father's case he was given enhanced physical beauty, stamina and a tremendous sexual attractiveness! He was always Gay, just deeply closeted: Aphrodite decided to give your Father to his one true love Ward Kingsbury but SOMEONE interfered in that plan and now Hera has put her hand in to keep them apart... Your father just wanted to feel less `plain!"
"So how does Kyle Kingsbury fit in to the puzzle?" Brad asked.
"Dionysus added a little special sauce' with his gift," the Titan told him. "Olympians like to do that. Along with the increased sexual attractiveness came a matching increase in sexual APPETITE! Now your Father is always sexually simmering' as it were; he can't resist an offer! When young Mr. Kingsbury Pledged himself to Dionysus he specifically asked to be irresistible to your Father!"
"Oh shit!" Brad sighed. "So, my Dad literally CAN'T help himself?"
"Sadly, no..." Prometheus said. "As long as your Father lives he will be unable to resist young Mr. Kingsbury--and no God or Mortal can prevent that! Once a Gift is given it cannot be withdrawn..."
"So the Gods can only ADD, not subtract?" Brad asked.
"Correct!" Prometheus said. "You DO catch on quickly! "Your Father is literally powerless to resist Kyle thanks to Dionysus gift--but young Mr. Kingsbury might grow tired of your Father. He probably WILL in fact and your Dad will finally be free of that little limpet..."
"So there's nothing I can do?"
"You could distract young Mr. Kingsbury or direct his attention elsewhere," Prometheus replied. "Kyle made a very SPECIFIC request when he Pledged to Dionysus: thankfully he isn't irresistible to every male--just your Father..."
"So--what does `Pledged' mean?" Brad asked. "I've heard that word bandied about a lot but I don't know what it means and they won't, or can't, tell me..."
"Pledging is an act of enforced fealty to your God, or Gods, of choice!" Prometheus told him. "In return for a Gift from their Patron a Mortal will pledge loyal service to the God, Goddess or group of same. The bracelets you see on their wrists are signs of the pledge. They also allow the Patron to talk directly to the Servant in a variation of the telepathy I spoke to you with when I brought you here."
"So, these human sell themselves into Slavery for some fucked-up bit of Godly Power?"
"More like Indentured Servitude," Prometheus told him. "Mind you, the Pledge gets things out of it as well--their homes are large and luxurious, and they pay no taxes, have zero utility bills or maintenance fees. Everything in the shops and restaurants of Olympus Island is free to them and they have cradle-to-grave medical care! They will go to their graves in youthful good health! Most people consider it a fair trade... Oh, and they are paid a most generous salary!"
"You just can't leave?" Brad asked, remembering what his Father and Ward had said about Ambrosia.
"It's possible--just difficult..." Prometheus admitted. "Olympus Island is actually the body of Gaea--literally Mother Earth! Ambrosia is a combination of herbs found only here that, once consumed, binds you to Mother Earth, in other words, this place! The Gods call it Ambrosia because it nourishes us and it prepares humans for our Power!"
"And I was given some?"
Prometheus nodded. "That odd spice you tasted in the Hot Chocolate Campbell Bishop gave you was Ambrosia," he said. "That little bit was enough to bind you to Olympus Island. Sheila Kingsbury added more to the food she prepared to hasten your adaptation."
"Adaptation?"
"Ambrosia prepares you to receive Godly Power," Prometheus told him. "It also clears up your skin, gives you more strength, stamina and renders you immune to most cancers and sexually-transmitted diseases!"
"I did rather notice a distressing lack of condoms," Brad admitted.
"They aren't needed here--unless you want to prevent pregnancies," Prometheus told him. "There are additional minor side effects but you will discover those for yourself soon enough."
"Are the Olympians like the Myths I read in Middle School?"
"I could spend several nights discussing the differences," Prometheus replied. "When the Olympians lost the vast majority of their Worshippers they lost most of their Godly power as well. Athena worked out a way to change them so they would have a sort of `serial' immortality. The Godly essence survives and is, for all intents and purposes, immortal. Each Human hosts adds their own distinctiveness to the Olympian they are bonded with--rather like the Trill of Star Trek fame..."
"How is a new Host picked then?" Brad asked. "Does the God adopt a kid or what?"
"Wiser Gods select an Heir and train them for the role they will assume," the Titan replied. "Sadly, few of them are that wise and a scramble ensues to find some remotely-acceptable candidate for the position. If the Godly spirit remains incorporeal for too long it dissolves. Oh, and the less Godly Power they have,, the faster they dissipate. It took a while to learn this; that's how the Olympians lost Godlings like dear, foolish Aurora and sweet, gentle Hebe! Ganymede and Psyche barely survived but they made it through although Ganymede has never quite been the same since."
"Have there ever been any, bad'--uh--uncomplimentary' pairings?" Brad asked.
"The process has refined over the generations," Prometheus replied, "but, yes, there have been some--let's just say `awkward' joinings! Once the Athena spirit somehow got paired with one of the Borgia daughters--not Lucretia but one of her sisters--no, a cousin... Like Lucretia, she was quite sexually active and voracious. The pairing was a disaster from the start, quite a mess! The poor girl finally ended her days in confinement! I could tell you other stories but dawn is fast approaching and the Eagle will soon be here to eat my liver. If you don't want to see that you need to go. The path will be much easier on the way out but still--follow the torch!"
"Is there anything I could do to help you?"
"You could try fighting the bird off..." Prometheus allowed.
"Will the torch burn it?"
"I--believe so," the chained Titan replied. Faint hope began lighting his eyes. "The Eagle is a `made' thing of Zeus's but it still must obey the laws of this world. You may be injured in the process..."
"I'm prepared to take the risk!" Brad said resolutely even as he saw the shadow of a large bird and heard the scree of an eagle's cry.
The bird, when it came, was large and fearsome with a beak made for slashing and talons that could rake like the sharpest knives. The creature seemed confused and slightly distressed by someone new being added to the scene so it was cautious in its approach. Brad stuffed down his fear and thrust the burning torch at the bird again and again. Even though the creature's dim brain was made for one thing and one thing only it was bright enough to know magical fire when it was used so the Eagle got no strikes in even though it tried for an hour or more. Brad wasn't sure his arm could hold the torch much longer but the bird finally flapped away in frustration.
"Thank you my boy!" Prometheus told him. "If only for a little while you have eased my pain..."
"Can the Eagle be killed?"
"It can but I wouldn't advise that," Prometheus replied. "Zeus will not know his creature failed in its duty today but if you destroy it he will! Then he will make another and likely post guards here to find whoever is responsible! That would not be--pleasant--for you! However, if someone--you--can keep the Eagle off me for three days I will be strong enough to free myself from these chains then it won't matter!!"
"I'll be back tomorrow!" Brad promised.
"You are kind, my boy!" the Titan replied. "But now you must go! If you are not found soon the Police will send up helicopters and you do not want to be caught with, or even near, me! Be wary but if you can craft a convincing story for your absence last night and an alibi for why you slip out early in the morning all will be well..."
"Already working on that!" the blond man said brightly. "Rest well Prometheus..." Brad bent over and gave the Titan a kiss on the forehead before departing the cave.
Once outside, whatever magic that guided him safely there the previous night was gone and Brad soon found himself well and truly lost. As the young man thrashed his way through dense undergrowth he was scratched by brambles and tripped over half-concealed logs and branches. At one point he even fell into a cold stream so he was soaked. Brad was happy to eventually find his way to a paved road that didn't look familiar; not sure which way to go he picked a random direction and started walking.
It wasn't long until he heard the brief blare of a Police Siren from a car coming up behind him. Brad stopped and turned to see a good-looking Cop in a well-tailored Khaki uniform getting out of the Cruiser. "You Foxy-loxy's kid?" the man asked.
"Yes Sir..." Brad said dispiritedly. He was tired from the battle and his misadventures in the woods had left him cold, wet and generally miserable. "I guess I had a lot of people out looking for me?"
"Just the whole Police Force and every Civilian your Dad could call to help!" the Cop said. "Your Dad said you freaked out and ran off into the woods! You want to tell me what happened kid? And you maybe want to tell me why you couldn't be spotted? Hell man! Not even Connie Rowland could find you and she's the best Tracker on the Island!"
Brad noticed a blood-red bracelet on the Cop's right wrist so he quickly came up with what he hoped was a convincing lie. "I haven't adapted yet," he said, eyes downcast. "Yeah, I had a complete freak out and I melted down! I'm sorry I caused so much trouble for everyone..."
"Still doesn't explain why we couldn't find you?" the Cop said, a bit accusingly.
If you're too dumb to realize this place REEKS of magic then you don't belong on the Force! Brad kept this thought to himself and went for the obvious answer this dummy was likely to buy. "I don't know Sir!" he said, doing his best to sound and look young, small and frightened. "All I can tell you is that once I was able to see, the woods were pretty thick above my head! If you had air support up, maybe that's why they couldn't spot me." He decided to add one more detail and hope it wouldn't come back to bite him later. "I thought I heard giggling a bunch of times but when I moved toward where I thought it was, I'd trip over a log or fall into a stream!"
The dumb but handsome Cop (who could have been Channing Tatum's Stunt Double) nodded sagely. "It was probably Pan or some of his flock messin' with you!" he informed Brad. "They do that to unwary humans who wander into their territory. You're lucky you weren't hurt any worse!"
"I guess..."
Brad could see his "lost child" act was literally melting the Trooper's angry resolve. "Come on kid," he finally said. "I'll take ya back to the Station and you can call your Dad!"
"Thank you Sir."
"Just call me Officer Cody kid!" the Cop said, a pleasant, white-teethed smiled crossed his broad tanned face. "I'm glad you didn't come to any worse harm!"
"Thank you Sir," Brad said again as the Officer put him in the back of his Patrol Car.
"Sorry about having to haul you in like a common crook," the Channing Tatum lookalike said, "but I can't let you ride up front!"
"Doesn't look like there's as much tech stuff crammed in the front seat as most Patrol Cars..." Brad commented, trying not to be nervous as he found himself locked behind iron screening in a passenger compartment with no door handles or window controls.
"It's all here!" the Cop said briskly as he briefly patted the dashboard. "Thunderbolt Technologies did a helluva job! My job would have been a lot easier if we had access to everything this car has when I worked for the City of Bremerton!"
"How long have you lived here Officer Cody?" Brad asked politely.
"Three or four years," the dumb but handsome hunk of a Cop replied. "The place kinda freaked me out at first too, if you want me to be completely honest, but then I Adapted and now everything's cool. I have a great job, a nice Condo close to the Marina and a boyfriend who is hot as fuck! I don't have to worry about being arrested in a glory hole or a roadside restroom; I can be myself without fear of reprisals--as long as I follow the rules! Life is good here."
"That's what everyone tells me..."
"Trust me," said the Cop, "it is!" The rest of the short trip to the Olympus Island Station was made in silence, allowing Brad to glance out at the sunlit countryside then the neat town as they crossed into the city. If nothing else, this was some of the prettiest country he'd ever seen: the town was neat, clean and well laid out--not surprising since Gods ruled here. The Police Station was large and grand, bright and shiny, neat as a pin with all the modern conveniences. The young blond man was taken to a door with CHIEF ERIC MARS stenciled in black letters on the translucent pebbled glass. "The Chief wants to talk with you while I call your folks. Step on in he's expecting you.
Brad glanced at the blood-red band on Officer Cody's right wrist and remembered Prometheus saying something about the Pledged being able to communicate with their Patrons using that: with a name like "Eric Mars" Brad had no doubt he was about to encounter his first "real life" God: he just hoped he was able to pull the deception off with a Deity. "Send the boy in!" bellowed a strong deep voice from beyond the door.
The blond young man did his best to look small, meek and young as he stepped inside. Chief Eric Mars was pretty much what Brad expected to find: he was tall and broad with muscles on his muscles. His short-cropped hair was a rich coppery red and his eyes were hazel. His broad, slabby face was ruddy as was the rest of his visible skin. His arms were covered in coppery tendrils and more hair peeked out of the collar of his khaki shirt. Brad half expected to find the cop wearing a sword and shield but he had a heavy pistol in his holster and there was no evidence of bladed weapons anywhere except on a painting that hung behind his desk of a Barbarian warrior. "So--where were you hiding yourself kid?" the Chief barked. "We had our best Trackers out looking for you and we didn't find a trace! That shouldn't be possible!"
"Officer Cody tells me I wandered into Pan's territory," Brad said, shakily. "I heard voices and laughter but I never saw anyone..."
"Connie said she lost your trail when you crossed the border," the Chief told him. "Smart people leave Pan and his flock alone! You're lucky the Fauns and Nymphs only led you a merry chase!"
"Yes Sir--I'm sorry for all the trouble..."
"Your Dad said you freaked out," the Chief said and Brad thought he saw the slightest of mellowing on his face. "What happened--couldn't stand to know your Dad was fucking a kid..."
"I was sexually abused when I was younger," Brad blurted. "When I saw my Dad and Kyle in the kitchen I just broke..." Silent tears began falling.
"Oh shit..." Now the Chief was definitely softening. "You were abused and your Dad was STILL fucking that hot-to-trot little shit Kingsbury? And BEFORE you were Adapted? I thought Robb had better sense!"
"He doesn't know..." The words were barely above a whisper. "I never told him. My abuser claimed he'd never believe me..."
"Jesus kid, I'm sorry!" Chief Mars looked shaken and unsure. "Look--you need to tell your Dad! Maybe that'll cool his jets for a few days!"
"Yes Sir..." Again the words were barely above a whisper and Brad tried to wipe the tears away with his still-wet sleeve.
Eric Mars tossed him a handkerchief. "Blow your nose boy and dry those tears!" he growled in a friendly-bear way. "It wasn't your fault! Tell yer Father and he'll understand..." Then: "CARPENTER! Bring young Mr. Fox a cup of coffee--heavy cream and sugar! I think he might be a bit shocky..."
Brad had himself under control by the time the called-for Officer entered; all he could think was what fresh Hell is this? as he recognized "Carpenter" as his high-school bully football hero Chase Carpenter. Chase was still blue-eyed and blond and even buffer then when he'd reveled in torturing Brad and everything looked spectacular in his tight khaki uniform. "Hey Foxy!" he said, a broad smile wreathing his tanned, model-handsome face as he pressed the promised coffee into Brad's hand. "Glad you're OK buddy!"
"What..." The smaller young man looked up into the smiling face of his tormentor. "Did you put laxative in this?"
"Fuck no dude!" Chase replied. "If I did some dumbass stunt like that Chief Mars would turn my body into a human pretzel then end it by stuffin' my head up my own ass! I put in a lot of sugar and creambut that's it! Swear to God!"
Brad saw the blood-red bracelet on Chase's wrist. "Oh, you're Pledged!" he said. "To Ares?"
Chase nodded. "My Dad moved up to take a job here right after we graduated," the young Cop said. "My Mom and Dad both `Pledged' fairly quickly: it took me a little while to decide I wanted to Pledge to Ares but it did me some real good!"
"I--didn't know..."
"It's not like we were friends or anything!" Chase said. "I've seen you a few times at UCLA but you always managed to disappear before I could go talk to you."
"Why would you want to talk to me?"
"I wanted to apologize!" The young man smiled. "So--since we're both living here now ya wanna grab some Pizza--maybe see a movie sometime?"
"Who are you and what have you done with Chase Carpenter?" Some of Brad's natural sass returned.
"I'm standing right in front of you doofus!" The beefy blond young Officer gave Brad a wink. "Look--I don't blame you for doubting me..." he said. "I treated you like shit through High School--and I'm sorry about that! I was so deep in the Closet I was damn near in Narnia! I thought if I tortured everybody's favorite target nobody would think about me!" Brad blushed. Chase had played a starring role in many of his teenage erotic fantasies. "Brad--please give me a chance! I promise--this time I won't treat you like a total douche!"
"And if he doesn't treat you right he'll have me to answer to!" Chief Mars added. "Is that clear Carpenter?"
"Yes my Lord Ares!" Chase bowed his head. "I'll treat Brad right--I swear!"
Before Brad could say anything there was a knock on the door. Officer Cody popped his head in. "Robert Fox is here for his Son, Sir."
"Send him in!" Chief Mars rose. "Come on Carpenter--lets give the Foxes the room. Bradley needs to speak with his family..." Both men left silently as Robb Fox, looking worried, came in.
"My God Brad!" he exclaimed, wrapping his son up in a hug. "We all were worried about you?"
"I doubt that..." The words came out more bitter than Brad wanted but it was how he felt: Kyle and Sheila Kingsbury would probably be sad to see him come home.
"We were worried SICK boyo!" Robb said. "I know things here are--different--but the last thing any of us wanted was for you to be upset!" Again, Brad rather doubted that but he let the comment stand.
"Do you want to tell me why you were so upset Brad?" his Father asked.
"I melted down because I was sexually abused when I was a kid!" Brad finally said. "Seeing you hammering away at Kyle with him being shaved smooth blew my mind!"
Robb looked shocked. "Abused?" he whispered. "I had no idea!" His Father took a deep breath. "Will you tell me who it was?"
"Chet Delavigne." Brad let the name drop like a stone in a still pond.
"Chet?" Robb repeated. "Our next-door neighbor? My BEST FRIEND?" Anger flashed across his face. "How long did this go on? And, for God's sake Brad, WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?"
The young man began to silently cry again. "It started when I was seven..." he gulped. "Mom was in the Hospital and the Delavignes took care of me a lot during that time! He'd been, I guess the word is grooming' me for a couple of years before that! When he finally touched me--I--I wanted to tell you..." The young man gulped again. "First he told me that if I tattled' the stress would kill Mom! Then when she died he told me that it was my fault and you wouldn't believe me anyway..."
"SON--I am so very, very sorry!" Robb exclaimed. "God--I--am--so--STUPID! I thought you had withdrawn because you were grieving your Mom's loss! Brad--I'm sorry Son! Sorry for everything I've done, everything I failed to do! I can't blame you if you hate me now..."
"I don't hate you Dad," he said. "I never did!"
"Son--we'll find a way to work through this!" Robb said. "I'll try and stay away from Kyle until you Adapt! I swear!"
"Don't!" Brad's single word was decisive. "Thanks to Dionysus's `Gift' to Kyle you can no more resist him than you can resist breathing for long! I understand that now..."
Robb didn't question how Brad had gotten that information but he nodded. "Thank you for understanding Son..." he finally said. "I didn't want that--truly I didn't!"
"I believe you Dad.
END CHAPTER TWO
AUTHOR'S NOTE 2
Thanks again to the awesome "Marko the Magnificent" who assisted with the edit and plenty of helpful criticism. Again, if you'd like more of Brad's adventures on Olympus Island please let me know. I had a blast writing this and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much.
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