THE SPOILS OF WAR by Pete Brown. petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories in groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
Part 29
Those days on the oil tanker were the happiest I'd ever spent. Ali and I knew that we and our men had to be fit - "fighting fit" - when we got to his country and started our battle to free the slaves, and so we worked out almost constantly during the day - running circuits of the decks (we could do almost a mile around), lifting weights with weights made from plastic containers filled with water, and in tough workout sessions where we did trunk curls, jumping jacks , press-ups and all the other stuff I'd learned in the marines to keep your body in good shape. It was hot and we mostly did it just in shorts, and the men now all openly smiled and teased me about my tattoo, something they'd never dared do before in the coffle where the guards didn't like to see any of us having any kind of enjoyment. And that I guess was the real change - before, we'd worked hard, fucking hard, to the limits of our abilities, but that was because there was always a guard standing there with a cane, a tawse, or even the threat of a prod. Now, proud, and free of the coffle chains, we worked hard because we wanted to, because we knew it was what we needed to do to get other slaves as free as we were. I found out that there's a difference between being totally exhausted because you've been flogged into the ground, and that blissful state of almost euphoria when you're so tired that you can hardly move another inch, because you've wanted to exercise your body until it drops.
If the days were good, the nights were absolutely fantastic. We'd always all had sex together as I've told you, but now, free of the coffle chains, it was a wholly different experience. You didn't have to be concerned about choking another guy as you moved into position for a good fuck; you could reach any of the guys without a lot of clanking and shuffling of the chain, and almost best of all, there was this fantastic new mobility as your neck wasn't weighed down by the heavy iron slave collar and attaching chains - if you wanted to reach over and suck a dick dangling there as its owner did something to another guy, you could! We'd all thought we knew each other totally after three years of being coffled together, and that there wasn't anything that we hadn't done before with each other - how wrong we were! Faisel in particular was always pushing and pulling us into odd configurations where we "spit roasted" a guy, or "daisy chained" all together until we collapsed in almost helpless laughter at the effort required to synchronise our fucking. But however long we spent at sex, when we finally settled down to sleep it was always Ali in my arms, and me in his.
My only real concern was relations between Ali and his father - his father was in the owner's cabin high up near the bridge, and I kept urging Ali to go and spend time with him. "No, Steve", he told me. "We don't agree. He's only letting you and the other guys go free because I fought him. He's one of the ruling class. He's doing well out of the oil deal with the South, and he wants to keep the status quo. I won't speak to him."
"Ali, he's your dad! In families, at least where I come from, fathers and sons can disagree about ideology but can still speak to each other about other stuff. So, OK, your differences are more extreme, but you could still love him as a father. And he presumably wants to be with you - why else is he on this tanker with us? He must be rich enough to be one of the few people who can still afford the air fares for transatlantic service...."
It didn't make any difference, though - all my arguments failed. Ali could be a real bonehead when he dug his heels in sometimes, and there seemed to be nothing for it but to go and see his father again myself. I ducked out of our exercises early one afternoon, showered, and pulled on a clean pair of shorts and made my way up the ladders and companion ways towards the bridge. As I got to the last flight, there was a burly crew member standing there - he had that typical redneck look of a thug that you see doing jobs like bouncers at night clubs. I went to brush past him, and he grabbed my arm.
"Not so fast! Where do you think you're going, slave?"
"To see the owner."
"We don't allow slaves in this part of the ship. This is for respectable folk, real men, not dirty slaves.... Particularly not stinking Arabs... It's bad enough having to crew on a ship where the owner's an Arab, but having a whole lot of others crawling all over the place isn't on. Now, get back down there, where you belong, boy."
He was really surprised when I answered him in English. "I'm not a fucking slave, man! And even if I was, and even if I was an Arab, I'd go up to see the owner if I wanted to. Now take your hand off my arm before I take it off for you, and get out of my way, if you don't want to get hurt...."
"You're one of those Northern slaves, aren't you? Consorting with the Arabs now, and fucking around with them. Now get back down there...."
Well, I had warned him, hadn't I? And although he was big and tough looking, as so many of those bouncers are, he didn't have the honed fitness I had, and he certainly hadn't been trained in hand to hand combat as I'd been, both in the marines and in the arena. I don't think I did him really serious damage, not to his internal organs or anything. But his already squat stupid face would be even worse now that his nose was broken, and I could see from the way that his arm was dangling loosely that it would take quite a long time for the fractures to heal.
I'd wanted to go and talk to Ali's father calmly, but when I burst into the owner's stateroom I was still breathing hard from the fight, and my torso and my shorts were streaked with the guy's blood. Ali's father had been speaking on the satellite phone, and at once put it down, looking really alarmed. "Steve ,what's happened.... Is Ali all right?" he shouted out, getting to his feet in concern.
"Oh sure! This is just from that goon you employ to stop people getting into the crew's quarters... He told me slaves weren't allowed up here, and I had to teach him a lesson..."
"Well, technically, he's right - this is a ship from my country sailing from the USA, and in both places slavery is legal. And you are a slave, even though you've had your collar cut off."
"But we're free...."
"Technically, no. Once you're a slave, you're a slave for ever. There's no mechanism for freeing slaves. But we'll let that pass, at least for the time being : I may have to use this on Ali, to protect him, in future..."
"That's what I want to talk to you about.... What's going to happen when we arrive? Ali wants to start fighting the occupying forces immediately... Will you be supplying money, guns, stuff like that?"
"No! You must remember that I am a member of the Ruling Council. We have decided to co-operate with the South, even though they have invaded us. We do not like all our young fighting men having been taken off as slaves, but with over twenty thousand occupying troops in our country, we are worried about the consequences for our people if we do something to upset the South. So we are like the Vichy French in WW II, co-operating with the Germans..."
"But look what happened to them, eventually..."
"I know, Steve. And that's why we're not provoking the Southern occupiers. I cannot support Ali... He will have to live a normal life as my son, run our businesses, have sons from his wives..."
"Look, that isn't going to happen. He's determined to fight the South and to get your men who were taken as slaves repatriated. If you don't help him, you'll lose him."
"But I cannot. I have a greater duty to all our people." The man looked so sad, and I could see that he was wrestling with his conscience. He looked hard at me, and after a time said "No, Steve, things must be as things must be. Ali must do what he believes to be right, and I must do what I believe to be right. That is the way that men behave, even if it means losing the love of a son for his father, or of a father for his son. But I will never cease to love Ali, whatever he does, and whatever he thinks of me. He is my only son, and a man needs to see his genes going on through the generations."
I thought he was going to break out and cry, as he lowered his voice and continued "So will you help me, Steve?"
"No! Ali's my friend, well, more than that, much more..."
"Yes, I understand. You are loyal and strong, and Ali will need you. No, I want you to help me by taking care of him, as I will soon no longer be able to protect him. I lost him once when he fought the Southerners and was captured and enslaved. I thought I had regained him when I eventually traced him and bought your coffle, but now I see that I must lose him again. But you will be with him, Steve. You will always be at his side. Take care of him for me, as I can no longer do so. No man can make his way entirely alone in the world - without his father to help him he will need a totally loyal friend, lieutenant.... lover. Will you promise to look after him as if he was your brother, a brother who you love totally and completely?"
"I don't need to say it, do I? You know that I will."
He came over and embraced me, the blood form my torso staining his immaculate white robe, and he was unconcerned. He handed me a piece of paper then, and said "Take this. On it is a number that you must remember - it is my global phone number, and if I am not there, there is always someone who can contact me.
Just tell them that Steve needs to speak to me, and they will find me.... It is the best that I can do. One day, who knows, you may be able to use this to help Ali, or yourself. Even if Ali is killed, you, Steve, deserve my help - you are a loyal and good servant to him, and to me."
Well, I didn't exactly like that - I mean, I wasn't anyone's servant! I was going to be a free man again, irrespective of what he said about there being no way of freeing slaves. But he embraced me again, and there seemed to be nothing more to be said, so I went back to the guys who were still exercising.
That night Ali rounded on me and seemed angry. "You went to see my father! Are you betraying me?"
"Don't be so fucking stupid! I went to try to make him see sense, see that he needs to help you! I hate to see a father and son quarrelling: remember that I don't have the luxury of telling my father anything, as he was killed as a consequence of the Civil War. You and your father are like two big moose or elk, horns locked together, fighting over who's biggest and best! But I've tried explaining that to you, and to him, and it's not working. But don't blame me for trying, OK?"
"So he's going to stop me from fulfilling my destiny, to free the slaves...?"
"No he isn't. But he's not going to help you either. But at least that's some progress. Now go up there and shake his hand, or embrace him or something, whatever you Arabs do! You might never see each other again, Ali - you could be killed, or he could be taken by the Southerners for failing to do their bidding.... You are father and son: you may not agree, but you should not leave this ship as enemies!"
We argued on for what seemed like a long time, and then, finally, I almost pushed him out of the door and told him to go and see his father. I never found out what they said, except that it can't have been much as it was a very short meeting, but Ali seemed to be a little happier when he came back. I looked at him, and he sort of shrugged, and muttered "I suppose you were right, Steve."
"So you've made it up?"
"No. I think he's wrong, and he thinks I'm wrong. We are not friends, but we are no longer enemies."
"One day, if you both survive, you'll be glad, Ali. A man needs his father, however old he is... You will find, I'm sure, that at some point in the future you will understand each other again."
He shrugged again, and looked doubtful, but there was nothing more I could say or do.
When we docked eventually there was some help from Ali's father, as he gave Ali the use of a small house the family owned in one of the poorer suburbs of the capital. I say "small" - Ali called it that, as he was used to his father's palace, but all eight of us fitted in perfectly easily. Ali muttered about not being allowed to live in the palace, but I pointed out that his father had really helped us by making us more inconspicuous.
After we'd settled in (helped by a generous amount of cash from Ali's father!), Faisel came and asked Ali if he and the other guys could take a few days off, as they wanted to return to their homes and see their families.
At first, Ali said no, as they were his fighters and he needed to start the battle, but I worked on him and pointed out that unlike him and me, the others all had families who they hadn't seen for years. It as only right for them to go now, for what might be the last time - if we were to be serious guerilla fighters, there was a high probability that they might be killed.
"No, Steve", he said at one point. "If I let them go, they will not come back..."
"You're wrong, Ali. They revere you as their leader. By letting them go and spend this time with their families you will reinforce your strength as a leader.
They will all return, I am sure of it. If you do not let them go, they will probably leave anyway - the need to see their sons and wives is almost overwhelming - and then they will not return. Trust me on this... "
He was very reluctant, but the six guys left, and as we lay together than night, and after we'd enjoyed really great sex (although it was a bit odd, there just being the two of us), Ali did as he usually did and drifted into sleep. I prodded my elbow sharply into his ribs to get his attention, and said "We have ten days before the men return."
"Yes, Steve. So there's no need to keep me awake now - plenty of time for fucking...."
"No, there's something else you must do. You must fulfil your promise to your father."
"What promise?"
"You agreed to cover your wives, and get them pregnant, so he could have grandchildren, if he let us all escape with you."
"No way. That was something I just said in the heat of the moment. I've got you, Steve, I don't need wives."
"Ali, you promised. And you want to be a great leader - well, leaders always do as they say. And you have me, OK, but your father does not have you and cannot have you until this war thing is over, one way or the other. So he needs grandchildren instead. So you must do it. It's no big deal... And you have four wives.... A lot of guys would think that sounds like fun."
"No, Steve. I will not. I cannot!"
H was almost trembling, and it was not with rage, but something else. I held him close, and tried to find out the root cause of his concern. We went all through it - yes, he had promised. Yes, he accepted that leaders only became "great" if they kept their promises. Yes, he thought his father would look after his grandchildren well. Yes, he had four wives. But no, he would not go and fuck them! I was totally exasperated, and demanded to be told why he was just failing at the last hurdle of this course, but he went into one of his sullenly silent moods, and just lay there.
I kept on turning things over in my mind, and tried to understand his reluctance to do this simple thing. Finally, I prodded him again, and when he turned to look at me, a very sad look in his eyes, I said "It's not me, is it Ali? You're not worried that I'll be pissed off if you go and fuck your wives? Because it's no problem for me - I want you to do the right thing, and the right thing is to get them pregnant now, so we can move on! It's only just fucking them -
what we've got is something else, proper man to man love."
He hugged me, but still seemed unhappy. "Oh for Christ sake, Ali, all you need to do is five or ten minutes fucking - you do that all the time wit the other guys in our coffle. What's the problem?"
Finally, in a tiny voice, as if he was ashamed, he whispered to me "But I don't know how, Steve... I've never been with a woman."
"But they are your wives..."
"Yes, but I was betrothed as a child. I hardly know them. And I don't fuck women. I never have. I don't know what to do."
He was surprised when I burst out laughing! "Is that all? Oh, you dumb fuck, why didn't you say so? You can tell me things like that - we're buddies, no we're lovers, right? And that's what lovers do - tell each other their greatest fears!"
"But I can't go in there and not know what to do!"
"Well you won't have to!"
"What?"
"Look, Ali, before I discovered proper sex, I used to be known as quite a stud. I've probably fucked more women than you've had dicks up your ass! I know what to do, and I'll show you. We're buddies, right? So we'll do it together - you'll be OK, as I'll guide you, show you the ropes, give you little tips as you go along."
He looked doubtful, so I went on "And it will be fun for me, too - I like to watch that butt of yours when you're fucking one of the other guys... It's not so different, you know, and after I've watched you thrusting away, I'll be so fucking horny that when we get back here you'll think your ass has caught fire!"
It turned out that none of these wives was a virgin or anything, well, not as far as I could tell. I imagined they'd been amusing themselves with a lot of lovers, as they seemed to be quite excited at the idea of Ali and me together! You always think of Arab women as being shy and retiring, don't you? Well, these weren't: they threw themselves around, moaned and screamed as we fucked them, and if I hadn't now been totally turned off women, it might have been a really great time. The first one was the worst - Ali didn't even want to look at her naked body. So to try and encourage him I fucked her, and as I was doing it, called to him to come and stand behind me and hold his body close to mine so that his dick was pressed into my ass crack.
After I'd cum in her, I pulled out, looked at Ali, and said "OK, your turn now! You've seen how I do it, just do the same." Poor guy, he couldn't even make himself have an erection, and I had to kneel down, stick my finger up his ass, and tickle his prostate to get him erect. Then, before he could lose the plot, I stood right behind him, put one arm around his chest and used the other to guide his dick into her! I then almost had to make him fuck by pushing into him and pulling him out - it would have been really funny to see it, I suppose, but he got the message after a time and did shoot his load as well.
We sent her away then, and both sat on the side of the bed. I put my arm round his shoulders and pulled him close. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
"It was awful, Steve. Give me a proper guy to fuck any day..."
"Oh come on! You don't fuck all that often - it's usually me that's fucking you..."
"Yes, but it's vile: all those breasts, and so fat... Not lean and hard, like you, Steve..."
"Well there's no helping that - that's the way women are. So one down, three to go.... Still, you know what to do now, so you can just do it when they think it's the best day for conception."
"No, Steve - you've got to help me. And I want you to fuck them all, too."
"But then we'd never know whose kid it was.... yours or mine? Well, not unless we tested the DNA..."
"That's right, Steve. I want them to be our sons, both our sons. So I don't want to know whose sperm it actually was that did the deed. You'll fuck one of the others first followed by me, and then I'll do two first followed by you. So we've both got even chances of siring the son."
"You seem very sure it's going to be sons, buddy."
"Oh it will be - and that's the hard part - I may have to keep coming back to them, over and over, until there's a son on the way: as early as they can they'll test them, and if they're bearing daughters, they'll simply be aborted. I only promised my father sons, Steve, not a whole lot of daughters to mess up the succession, and all that sort of stuff."
"But it might be that it was a son of mine who's the eldest.... That would mess up the succession!"
"Only if anyone ever found out. I've told you, Steve,
I love you. And as far as I'm concerned, a son of yours is as good as it gets."
It all sounded so bizarre, but, on the other hand, I was kind of thrilled - I mean, a man wants to carry on his line, doesn't he? That's what millions of years of evolution has fitted men for - to impregnate as many women as possible, so that his genes spread through the gene pool. The only thing that had slightly saddened me when I'd discovered proper sex and had stopped fucking women was that I thought I'd never have kids - and now, it seemed, I was going to have sons! Or, at least, I had a fifty-fifty chance of having them!
I turned and kissed Ali deeply. I looked into his eyes, and muttered "Look, I know what we're about to do is extremely dangerous, very risky... We'll probably both be killed. But I'll fight alongside you, you know that.... But what about these sons.. Won't your father have to know?"
"No, Steve. This is our secret. They're our sons, not mine, not yours: ours. And if we're both killed, they'll never be able to do a DNA test. And if only one of us survives, we can refuse it."
I kissed him again, and it was one of those pivotal moments in our relationship. Sharing the women and having sons was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I felt such strong emotions for Ali, stronger than I'd ever felt before, and I wanted to push him down onto the bed and fuck him there and then. But I could smell that smell of woman on my dick, and it wasn't right to push it up Ali there and then: still, we did have a most amazingly enjoyable bath together when we explored every part of our bodies with our soapy hands. And then I fucked him.
End Of Part 29