The following is a work of fiction and is the property of the author.
If you are looking to get off quick, read something else. This story is presented in serial form and you'll read a lot of background, before you get any mind-blowing sex scenes. If you are bothered by same sex relationships, read no farther.
This is a story about the inter-relationships of males of differing ages.
It's a story with some sex, not sex with some story.
My thanks and esteem to Wayne for helping me over the rough places in writing this story.
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Chapter 1
The gym was originally one of those ancient sparring forums where young men came to work out with heavy bags and punching bags, working up a good sweat as they danced back and forth, pounding the leather with a rat-a-tat-tat-tat rhythm, or the heavy thuds of a striking force meeting a nearly immovable object. When we finished renovating the building into the new fitness centre, it became a favourite with the yuppie, business crowd. The downtown location made it ideal for stopping in on the way to work, during lunch time, or after the close of business. Dropping back for a workout in the evening was also convenient, after the rush hour traffic had let up. Business was good. Word spread quickly and membership was at capacity.
This of course all was important to me as the owner of the renovated facility. I'm David Merrill. I moved here four months ago and supervised the renovations after purchasing the old building. This is the third facility I have started in this way, the other two still doing exceptionally well under the guidance of the managers I have trained and installed to run them.
The renovations had been completed on schedule. One of the first tasks finished was the total modification of the third floor into an immense apartment area in which I could live. For this time I had opted to have the entire floor laid out as a single unit, but at sometime in the future, it could be sectioned off into three separate, two bedroom units. The third floor was accessed by the elevator in the fitness centre, so for the most part, I did not have to leave the building, unless there was a specific reason to do so. I could even order my groceries and have them delivered if I chose. At 35, I am an established entrepreneur who is fit, active and living a life to my own design and liking. I have a regular workout routine which keeps me trim and in good shape. My 6', large frame has solidly muscled shoulders and arms, a nicely defined chest and abdomen and a slim waist. My hair is light brown, my eyes are deep blue and I guess I am generally considered by most to be handsome enough to pick up any guy I fancy, though I have never been interested in `one night stands'.
The move to this city was in part motivated by the ending of my last relationship. It had given me the incentive to open another centre and a focus to get past James, my live-in. He was a local businessman, who decided he would be happier with his former brother-in-law, than he had been with me for the four months since his divorce became final. He had a craving for pain I did not share and he wanted someone to take my usual dominant approach to a much more physical level. I was not interested in pursuing his physically aggressive fantasy. It was likely for the best, as I was beginning to tire of his incessant complaining and knit picking. He wanted to come back a week after leaving me and I nearly gave in when I met with him and saw his bruises, but I knew he would not stay and would continue experimenting behind my back.
The move gave me a clean slate to start over once again and I had enjoyed the past six months on my own, getting in touch with my own thoughts and feelings once again. I usually enjoyed the company of a companion, but knew that any future long term liaison would have to be with someone very special. The right person had just not come along yet, but I was a long way from desperate to find him and could happily manage on my own if that is what my destiny held.
Building a business reputation and clientele consumed me totally for the first two months the club was open. I found advertising was quite unnecessary. Since the first curious applicant walked in off the street on his lunch hour while we were still putting the final touches on everything, our clientele had mostly developed from `word of mouth' referrals. Finding good staff was the hardest part of setting up these clubs and I spent a great deal of time interviewing and re-interviewing potential applicants.
I eventually hired three personal trainers, Theo, Peter and Dexter (Dex), to work as staff and contracted five more to work by assignment. I had found in the past that one permanent and two contract instructors would not last and the rest would become my permanent staff. I was very, very particular about staffing and made that clear to all candidates who were invited for a second interview. Already one of the men I hired was a potential manager in my mind and in time, if he worked out as I expected, I would eventually turn responsibility for the operation over to him.
Each club had a snack bar which served healthy dietary items for our customers. I'm not talking about seaweed floats and grass sandwiches. We had protein shakes, sugar free treats, bottled water, sandwiches made with whole grain breads and low fat fillings, even some ices and sherbets. The last employee to be hired was Brenda. She was the mother of one of the new members I had signed, who had noticed we were looking for a counter person to run our snack bar. I knew when she walked through the door she was the one. She was a trim and stylish middle aged woman and conducted herself with a self assurance which made it obvious she was in control.
Brenda tended to interview me for the job. She had retired several years ago after waiting tables for 25 years. Her husband had died 15 years ago and both her sons were grown and out of the house. She made it clear to me right up front one of her sons was gay and if his joining the club would be a problem, she wasn't interested in working here. She was direct, vocal and assured. She was also perceptive, compassionate and I expected an excellent judge of character. There was no second interview, I hired her on the spot. She was to work 11:a.m. to 7:p.m., five days a week and have complete control in training and supervising the student workers we were going to hire for her relief. She decided to work Saturdays and half days Sundays and take another day and a half off during the week. I was to find out later she would show up for part or all of those days off anyway as she came to look at the members as her extended family. When they came to the club, they expected to see her and she was not going to disappoint anyone.
The "alley cat" came to my attention in October, about 2 months after we had opened the club. I heard from several members of the fitness centre he was a young man who hung around outside the club selling chocolate items to the members as they left between 8 o'clock and midnight. It seemed he was a resident of the streets who earned a sustenance by purchasing chocolate bars and candies from a wholesaler and then selling them at inflated prices. A number of our members seemed to be steady customers for him. It was a little redundant exercising an hour or two and then munching something chocolate on your way home, but he seemed to consider our location his prime sales locale and our snack bar wasn't open after 7 o'clock, so he wasn't competing with us.
A few of the members complained about his laying in wait for them and I had to suggest to them they learn to exercise a little basic will power and the words "No, Thank You". A few weeks after I first learned what was going on, I had occasion to see this `alley cat' first hand, when I went out one evening to attend a meeting. As I exited the club I was approached by a boy appearing about 16 or 17, 5'6" tall, with jet black hair and dark brown eyes. It was nearing November and a chilly wind was blowing through the streets, but this kid was wearing only a T-shirt and lightweight jeans with beat up runners on his feet.
"Hey, Mister." he pitched as I exited the club doors. "You want to buy some chocolate to take the edge off after all that exercising ?"
"No, Thank You." I replied, taking notice of the dark circles under his eyes and the hollowness and pale coloration of his cheeks. This young man was fairly obviously not in the best of health.
"Well, how `bout a little candy to take home to the wife ?" he suggested, his voice holding a positive attitude about his presentation. "Something to sweeten up the little lady before you hit the sheets tonight."
"No, Thank You." I repeated.
"Some of these make a handy gift to have on hand," he continued, "in case you need something quick to visit an aging Aunt when you're not expecting to."
"You have quite the pitch worked out." I said, turning to face him directly. His eyes locked onto mine with no avoidance.
"Yes, Sir. A guy has to sell enough to live." he smiled at me showing a row of slightly yellowed teeth. "Did it work ?"
"Yes." I answered, finding I really liked this young man's attitude and personality. "The gift one is a good line. What's your name ?"
"They call me the `alley cat'. he responded.
"I know what they call you." I informed him. "What's your name ?" He hesitated and looked a little defensive and uncertain, but continued to meet me eye to eye.
"Tom, Sir." he finally told me.
"Tom, the alley cat." I repeated. I paid him the $5 he wanted for a chocolate bar and saying `good night' I went on to my meeting.
Over the course of the next couple weeks I had two or three more encounters with `Tom, the Alley Cat'. Each time our dialogue ran about the same and it became something of a game for him to wear down my resistance. In the end, I always let him win his sale and I was always rewarded with a big smile and a "Thank you, Sir." Each time I saw him, he appeared more and more run down and tired.
Late one night I heard one of the members in the club locker room as I was straightening up mention he had bought a chocolate bar from the `alley cat' on the way in tonight to take home to his kids. He said the boy had not appeared to be very well and had not made his usual pitch to sell his wares. He had noticed Tom had not looked directly at him and he thought his face was bruised. His comments occurred to me again about twenty minutes later as I was turning out the lights and locking the doors. I stepped outside and looked around.
The street appeared empty. I walked along in front of the building and looked over into the parking lot at the side of the building. I spotted a huddled figure crouched in one of the old doorway frames along the side of the building. As I moved toward the figure I could see it was the boy and he still was wearing only the T-shirt and light jeans which he had been wearing before. It was a cold night with the promise of snow in the air and I wondered if he actually had anything else to wear.
"Tom" I said when I was about 5 feet from the opening. He didn't move, or respond. He was sitting with his legs drawn up tight to him and his forehead resting against his knees. "Tom." I spoke again, this time more forcefully, but he still didn't move. Crouching beside him I reached over and shook his shoulder. I could feel the cold of his body through his T-shirt and when I touched his arm it was ice cold. There was still no response from him and I was becoming more concerned.
I made an on the spot decision and scooped him with his bag of salables up in my arms. There was nothing to him. He felt like he could not have weighed more than 80 lbs. I carried him into the club and laid him on one of the tables in the change room. His breathing was rather shallow and I expected he either had a bad cold or a dose of pneumonia. As I rubbed his arms and called his name he eventually showed a response. When I moved his head I could see clearly that his left cheek and eye were badly bruised and swollen.
"Where am I ?" he wanted to know in a raspy voice.
"You're in the health club." I replied. "I brought you in to get you warmed up."
"I'm not allowed in here." he moaned. "I have to go." He made an effort to move, but just couldn't seem to find any strength, or coordination. The only result of his effort was a groan from the pain his body reported.
"You're going to do as I tell you." I said. "Do you understand ?" He stared into my eyes and slowly nodded his head. "I'm going to get you warmed up first and then you're going to bed."
As I spoke I undressed him carefully, slipping his T-shirt up over his head and arms, removing his runners and unfastening the safety pin which held the top of his jeans together. I undid the zipper and then slid his jeans off him. He wore no underwear. I looked at his body as I slipped off my own T-shirt, slacks and deck shoes. The boy was exceedingly thin and a mass of big black and blue markings. There were also purple and yellow bruises on his arms and legs which were older than the other markings. In some ways he resembled the pictures of children you see from war torn countries, with their ribs plainly showing and dark circles under the eyes of gaunt faces, resultant from starvation and lack of vitamins and protein. This boy was thin, to the point of being sickly.
I picked him up from the table and carried him into the shower room where I turned the shower to a warm setting and stood under it holding Tom's cold, bruised body in my arms with his head resting against my shoulder. After we stood there for several minutes I increased the heat of the shower a little. On the third such increase, he started to awaken more. After 10 minutes in the shower, having gradually increasing its warmth, we moved to one of the hot tub pools. I sat on the seat in the tub and supported Tom's upper body while he leaned against me which submerged as much of his body as possible. Within a few minutes he was fully awake and alert as most of the chill had been driven from him. His breathing continued to be raspy and I was certain he had some form of respiratory infection.
"Are you feeling better ?" I asked as I finally released him and allowed him to sit on the ledge in the hot tub next to me, continuing to support him with my arm.
"Yes, thank you, Sir." he responded. "What happened to me ? I remember being very, very tired and I sat down and huddled up to keep warm."
"I went outside to check around and found you passed out and in hypothermia." I told him. "That means you were very, very cold. It's taken you awhile to warm up slowly. You stay here for a few more minutes and I'll go and get towels and a robe for you." I climbed out of the tub and went to a cupboard in a nearby storage room..
I was back in two minutes only to find the hot tub empty. Moving quickly to the changing area I found Tom on the floor exhausted from the effort of trying to put his clothes back on. I picked him up and laying him on the table wrapped him in the terry cloth robe I had brought.
"Why didn't you wait for me ?" I asked. "Where were you going ?" Tears were streaming from his eyes and he was so upset, he was finding it harder to breath.
"I'm sorry, Sir." he sobbed. "I didn't want to run out on you. I have to get back to George. I don't think I can live through another beating. Please let me go."
"Tom." I said forcefully, for I recognized this behaviour as desperation. He stopped his crying and stared at me. "You can forget about George. You answer to me now and you will follow my instructions only. Do you understand ?" He was staring intensely at me and I saw the shadow of fear come into his eyes. "You have nothing to fear, Tom, but you will follow my instructions."
"Yes, Sir." he replied. "I will follow your instructions. I will do as you say." The fear left his eyes and he lay still, waiting for me to act. I picked up his and my clothing and piled it in his lap, then picking him up again, I carried him to the elevator. My key was already in the 3rd floor slot, so I turned it and we were quickly delivered to my upstairs apartment. I thought hard during the short ride. This cheerful, self assured youngster was being beaten by some viscous, abusive bastard. The marks and bruising were from regular beatings the boy received. It was obvious he had just recently received a severe beating. He was extremely malnourished as well.
When we reached the apartment I dumped the clothing and Tom's bag of salables on a lounge and carried him to the kitchen, sitting him on a chair. I poured an unrefrigerated protein shake in a glass and helped him drink it slowly. I had no idea what he was use to eating and hesitated giving him too much in case his system couldn't handle it. I knew the shake would be totally digestible. He picked up a bit once the fluid was in him.
"I need some questions answered, Tom." I told him, "then you're going to bed for a long sleep." He nodded his head in understanding. "Who is George and what hold does he have over you ?"
"George is my Guardian." he stated. "He has my little brother, Timmy, with him."
CHAPTER 2
What a day this has been. I've been on the go about 36 hours without too many breaks, but so much adrenaline has been pumping throughout my body I haven't felt the least bit tired. I know though, when I finally crash it's going to be for a good, long sleep.
I had to put the proof to a belief I have always held. I've always thought it pays to be good to others and surround yourself with people you trust. I needed help last night and when I asked for it, it was there, immediately. After Tom told me his 10 year old brother, Timmy, was still in the hands of George, his abusive Guardian, I had to sit down and think out what to do. I called Dex and Brenda on a conference line and explained to them what had happened and what the problem was. I also made it clear to them this was personal and it had no bearing on their positions with the club. Dex said he would be on his way to my apartment as soon as he hung up the phone. Brenda said she had a couple friends she needed to contact and then she would be coming over as well.
Fifteen minutes later I heard the elevator startup and Dex appeared when the doors opened. Five minutes after that, the buzzer rang and Dex went down to admit Brenda. When the elevator returned, Dex and Brenda stepped off it, followed by two, immense, uniformed, State Troopers. I'm sure my mouth dropped open when I saw them and I wondered if my esteem of Brenda's good sense had been an over estimate.
"It's okay, David." Brenda assured me, as if reading my mind. "I know you haven't met my baby, John and his partner, Cliff." She pointed at each of the officers as she spoke. "I use the word `partner' in every sense of the word, if you know what I mean." She clarified to me quietly, glancing to see that Dex was not listening. "I've explained to them what you told me and they are here to help."
We all shook hands and I introduced Tom to all of them, though his abilities to intake much information seemed greatly impaired. Brenda went over to him and in her motherly way gave him a hug and held his head. She asked where my aspirin and medicines were and I pointed her to my bathroom. She then took over Tom's care. While she was in the bathroom, I showed the men Tom's upper body and assured them the rest of him was similarly marked.
"Tom, will you charge George with assault ?" John asked. Tom looked over to me and I nodded my head. Tom nodded his head as well.
"Will we be able to make it stick ?" I questioned. "George is sure to claim some lie about an accident or some such crap."
"It doesn't matter, David." John said. "The charge gives us cause to enter the premises and remove the boy. Then custody can be sorted out by the courts. What do you want done about Tom ?"
"Nothing." I replied. "He's going to stay here and heal. He has accepted my care and protection for now and will do as I request." John looked hard into my eyes and I thought he was going to challenge me, but he instead changed his gaze down to the floor.
"Yes, Sir." he stated. "That will be fine, Sir." I looked over at his partner, Cliff and found he would not even meet my gaze. The thought shot through my mind that a dominant Daddy role was something these two young men were very amenable to. I glanced over at Dex and his eyes were almost aglow with what he had seen. I couldn't help but smile and I know he caught my amusement. I think he actually blushed.
Brenda sailed back into the room and pumped some pills into Tom. She then asked to have him put to bed. Dex helped me take him into the bedroom I had designated for him.
"Put him in some pajamas, please." she called as we entered the bedroom. "If you have any." she added with a cackle.
When we returned to the living area, John, Cliff and Brenda had arranged that Brenda would remain in the apartment, while Dex and I went with the young Troopers. Dex had called a Doctor who was a club member and he was going to come by. Brenda said she would tend to him and then read and nap on the couch until we returned. When we reached the main floor of the health club, Cliff called in and arranged for a warrant to be issued and for another team of officers to meet us at the address which Tom had provided.
These arrangements were going to take about 15 minutes, so we stood and talked. Dex mentioned to Cliff, he thought he recognized him and then found they had attended the same grade school when they were younger, though Dex was a few years his senior. I talked with John and he mentioned his Mother had been after him to join the club. I told him we had full membership right now, but if he and Cliff wanted in, we could always find some space for family. I also mentioned they could expect an employee discount on their memberships as well. He asked about having some of the other State Troopers join and I said we could arrange as people dropped out to let him know so his associates could apply as openings were available.
When word came the papers were prepared, we all climbed into the patrol cruiser and went to the address which Tom had indicated. Dex and I stayed in the car while the officers served their warrant. We saw them remove a large man from the house. He struggled with them and they put him down in the dirt and cuffed him, then placed him not too gently in the back of the other cruiser. John came out of the house carrying a blanket wrapped bundle and brought it over to the car. Cliff opened the door and John set the bundle on my lap. Inside was a young boy, trembling and quietly sobbing.
"Timmy." I said and the boy looked at me. "I'm David and Tom asked us to come and get you."
"You know where Tom is ?" the boy asked hesitantly between sobs.
"Yes," I assured him. "he's safe in my apartment. We'll take you to him."
"After he's checked out at the hospital." Cliff spoke up as he climbed into the car. We were all off to the hospital.
We had been sitting in the waiting room of the hospital for about two hours when a Doctor came looking for us to report Timmy could go home in a short while. Dex and I were pleased to hear there was no serious injury to the boy. Timmy was extremely undernourished as I had suspected with Tom. His growth was normal and he seemed of normal if not exceptional intelligence. His wrists and ankles were currently rubbed raw from straps which had been restraining him when the Troopers had arrived. We learned at that point the police had enough charges against George to put him away for long enough that the boys would never be bothered by him again..
As the Doctor was leaving, a pretty, young lady came over and introduced herself as Betty Grolier, an agent of Children's Services.
"I'll need to get some basic information from you Dr. Merrill, before you take Timmy home." she said. "We can interview you in your home later this afternoon about your formal application to foster the boys." I noted she had addressed me as Doctor, but let it pass, hoping it had been a verbal error on her part.
"Foster what boys ?" I asked. She looked at me apparently as confused as I was.
"The State Troopers over there," she indicated John and Cliff by pointing and they waved at us and smiled, "said you have Thomas, age 14 in your custody and were willing to take Timmy, age 10 as well. This would be a Fostering placement and the State would be supervising their care."
"I found Tom outside my business almost frozen to death and brought him in to warm him up." I told her. "Because of that I found out about Timmy and initiated a rescue. I don't mind looking after Tom, or even Timmy while they are recovering and healing, but I'm not the Father type. I'm a single male who lives in an apartment over my business."
"Dr. Merrill," she replied, "you are a warm, generous and considerate man, eminently qualified to deal with these children, who cared enough about these boys to see they were saved from a horrendous situation. I am faced with either placing them with you on the recommendation of two of our fine State Troopers and my own knowledge of your previous work, or placing them in an overworked, overextended system where at the very least they will be separated from each other and at the most could possibly be placed into facilities where they will be lost. My choice obviously is to send them home with you. What is your choice going to be ?"
"Take them, Boss." Dex counseled. "I'll help you. We all will. Honest."
"We will too." a voice to the left of us echoed and I looked to see John and Cliff had walked over while we were talking. "I've seen where kids like this end up. Take them home for now, Sir. We'll all work things out." I thought about it for a few minutes.
I was nearing the end of developing this location. I could move on and start another one, or I could stay awhile and try to help these boys. If ever any two boys needed help, it was these two. I had people ready to voice their help without even being asked. I knew I missed the part of my former life which brought me close to young people, but could I risk another loss. Maybe being a Father instead of a therapist was a challenge I could try.
"Can I back out of this if I try for a period and it isn't working ?" I asked.
"All placements are temporary for the first six months." Betty assured me.
"You are aware I am gay ?" I queried.
"I'm not concerned about your lifestyle," she replied, "your character is what is most essential. From the information I have you represent a stable, male figure who can guide them where their needs may lay. These boys are going to need special care for which an average home, even if it were available, may not be adequate, but your special knowledge and skills may just give them a chance to pull through."