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Slave to a Gladiator	By : BrittColumbia Category: +. to F > FAKE Views: 7719 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own FAKE, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Slave to a Gladiator

By Brit Columbia

Chapter Fourteen

Fandom: Fake

Pairing: Dee and Ryo

Rating: Not worksafe! Berkie is a bad boy. I
know you pervs want to find out what happens, but don't click at work! Wait
until you are safely at home with no grumpy bosses or nosy co-workers peering
over your shoulder. But watch out for curious children, if you have any. Wait
until they're safely in bed. Warning: Attempted non-con groping.

Spoilers: to Volume 7.

Disclaimer: Dee, Ryo, Drake, JJ, Commissioner Rose,
Diana and Ted all belong to Sanami Matoh, who created the popular manga, FAKE.
But James, Lily, Niko, his EMO
slaves, as well as Serena the cat-eared whip-mistress, Todd the bartender, and
Trevor and Cliff the palanquin bearers are mine. I was not paid in any way for
writing this story.

Summary: Whips, pounces,
jealousy etc. A gladiator and a slave get into trouble at the weirdest
Halloween party ever. Pure crack!

Author's notes: Please read
and review. Berkeley's cigar? It's a Gran Corona. Length: 235 mm. ( 9 1/4"
)His 'trouser' cigar is a little bigger than that!

Thank you to mtemplar, and
the_ladyfeather for beta-ing this.

Slave to a Gladiator

Chapter 14

A
loud crack almost directly in front of his face lopped almost four inches off
the Commissioner's questing cigar. He gasped in shock and almost dropped the
stump. Only long years of experience allowed him to keep his hold. Before he
had gone into public administration, he had been a beat cop and then a
detective lieutenant in his late twenties and early thirties. One of the most
important lessons he had learned during that time was that a cop never dropped
his gun in surprise if he suddenly found himself under fire. The cigar in his
hand was hardly a gun, but old habits died hard. A quick glance off to his left
showed him Laytner's glowering mug. He silently cursed the man for a fool. What
an idiotic and risky thing to do just to make a point!

Dee
immediately thrust the whip back into Niko's hands as heads started to turn in
their direction, including Ryo's. There was a shocked murmur running through
the crowd.

Ryo's
searching eyes went from the whip in Niko's hand to the way that Dee was
glaring at the Commissioner, his body tense, his fists clenched and one corner
of his mouth lifted in a snarl. Uh-oh, he thought, I've seen that look before. He felt a tightening of the muscles of his gut, as he
geared himself up to intervene if Dee flung himself on the Commissioner. But
when he glanced down at Rose and saw the man's red face, and the severed cigar
still gripped between white knuckled fingers, he realized that Rose had been up
to something he shouldn't have. Why else would Dee be looking so incensed and
Rose be looking so...guilty? Ryo's eyes dropped down to his own bare thighs,
and in that moment, he felt overwhelmed with embarrassment. He specifically had
not wanted Rose to see him like this! The man had probably been able to see
right up his 'skirt', too. In a matter of seconds, his face was even more
flushed than Dee's and the Commissioner's. He wasn't sure what had just
happened, but he knew he had to get back to his hiding place as soon as
possible.

"Did
I miss something?" It was Diana, flanked by Todd, who was as detached as
ever, and Boris, who had, for once, cracked a smile, although not a pleasant
one.

All
eyes veered in her direction and several mouths opened, but no one seemed to
want to be the one to speak first. Diana took in the whole scene in one
sweeping and acute glance: Ryo's distress and embarrassment, Dee's rage,
Berkie's hand-in-the-cookie-jar expression, the trepidation on the faces of
those witnesses who had seen the whole thing, and the confusion on the faces of
those who had only just awakened to the fact that something exciting had
occurred in their midst while their attention had been directed elsewhere. For
Diana, it all came down to one thing. Berkeley must not be embarrassed or
discomfited in any way. Because if he was, he would leave, and that was in no
way in accordance with her plans.

"Oh,
I see. God, you guys will bet on
anything, won't you?" She smiled knowingly at the group, hoping someone
would catch on.

Someone
did. "We sure will!" yelled Ted. "You name it, we'll bet on it!
Right, 27th?"

An
answering whoop came from the back of the room, as JJ approached the group. He
didn't know what was going on, but he knew enough to support his precinct.
"Yay, 27th!! Whoo-Hoooo!"

Diana
folded her arms, satisfied. It was enough. Now for the FBI. She spotted Serena
Telkes, head of the FBI's New York Cyber Crime Division, a woman whose diplomacy
and common sense she respected. Serena had quite a colorful private life, as
she recalled.

"Fill
me in, Serena. Is this some kind of FBI versus NYPD competition?"

"Uh,
yes, something like that," Serena replied. "But we're sorry if things
got out of hand, Diana..."

"Are
you kidding? If this is a matter of the FBI defending its status against the
NYPD in a whipcracking contest, then I'm counting on you to restore our honor.
Look, the other team has even got the Commissioner pulling for them! Are we gonna
take that lying down?"

"Uh...No
way!" said Serena, catching the look in Diana's eye, and following her
lead. "FBI! FBI! FBI!" She clapped her hands and stamped one foot, as
she turned in a slow circle looking for support. It was forthcoming, as quite a
few of the invited guests were local FBI agents and support staff that Diana
worked with whenever she came to New York.

"FBI!
FBI!" they yelled back enthusiastically.

"NYPD!
NYPD!" Dee, Ted and JJ countered, and suddenly, it seemed like everyone
was laughing and cheering, and space was being cleared for a whip cracking
contest.

Berkely's
litter bearers drank their latest round of cocktails at Diana's urging, all of
them looking quite relieved that their poor showing in the burning hair
incident was about to be forgotten in the excitement of a new and unusual
competition.

"Are
you guys NYPD?" Diana asked Trevor.

"Nah,
we know Berkeley from the gym. We play a little racquetball sometimes," he
replied.

"Good,
then does that mean I can count on you guys to cheer for the FBI?"

"Well,
sure," he said with a smile. "Hell, I'll support a beautiful woman
who keeps bringing me drinks! Whaddaya say, Cliff?" He elbowed the quiet
one, the one who stuck too close to Berkeley for Diana's liking.

"Nope,"
Cliff replied quietly. "My heart is with the NYPD." He gave Berkeley
an ardent look, obviously hoping for a smile or some encouragement.

The
only response he got from the man he clearly adored was a regal nod of
acknowledgment, but it seemed to satisfy him. Diana knew that feeling well: the
feeling of being grateful for any small crumbs of affection from an essentially
unavailable loved one. She had passed through that painful phase with Berkeley
long ago, had come to terms with it, and now she was playing the game with more
realistic expectations. However, she wasn't about to pay attention to any
fleeting feelings of sympathy for a fellow casualty. She was a veteran
gladiator in the heart-shaped arena where she and so many others regularly did
battle for a piece of Berkeley's regard.

Nothing
of what she was thinking showed on her face as she smiled at Cliff in a playful
way and teased him about his choice. This one was going to be harder to
dislodge than the others. It was too bad Berk was onto her about the chocolate
martinis.

After
handing over his whip to the willowy lady with the cat ears, Ryo slipped back
to his little alcove, holding his now-beltless tunic firmly down over his
buttocks. He was sure no one would notice him go, since Niko was in the middle
of demonstrating something called the 'Cattleman Crack', and the audience was
oohing and aahhing.

Ryo
wasn't sorry to miss the show; in fact, he was determined not to appear in
public again until his jeans were back from Laundry. Todd had apparently handed
them over to the Concierge, who had no doubt promptly ordered an underling to
deliver them downstairs.

Ryo
sighed and wondered how long it would be before he saw his jeans again. He
wasn't sure they could be salvaged anyway. In addition to the pomegranate punch
stains, they had also taken some damage from the flames in poor Pamela's hair.
However, no matter what shape they came back in, he still needed them to wear
home. He shifted uncomfortably on the slightly shabby chaise lounge in the
safety of the alcove. Why on earth had he consented to wear this uncomfortable
thong? It was absolutely the worst type of underwear to be caught trouserless
in. It offered no coverage or protection whatsoever. Furthermore, the firm ribs
of the velveteen corduroy weave that the chaise lounge was upholstered in
seemed to press painfully against his bare and still-sensitive buttocks.

And
where was his partner, the man who was responsible for pretty well all his
misfortunes this evening? He was out there showing off with a whip, allegedly
defending the honor of the NYPD. He probably had money riding on the outcome,
which was typical of him. And why was he supposedly so good with a whip,
anyway? What the hell was that about? Ryo stared grumpily at one of the Monet
prints, trying not to feel so resentful.

"Hey
there, handsome!" It was Diana, a cheerful smile on her face. "Aw
come on, don't be so down in the dumps.
Look, I brought you a drink. That bastard Ted drank your last cocktail,
so I made you this one myself."

"Thanks
Diana. What about you? Are you going to stay for a few minutes?"

"Sorry,
no can do! Gotta dash out and smooth things over with the front desk. They're a
little worried about all the whip cracking that's going on up here, not to
mention the candles and the burning hair. I need my phone, too." She dug
about in the little pink make-up bag on the counter and triumphantly produced a
small silver mobile phone. "Enjoy your drink! I'll be back as soon as I
can." She slipped back out through the curtain and was gone, leaving Ryo
alone once more.

He
lay back on the chaise lounge, sipping his drink and hoping it would enable him
to relax. He found himself feeling quite forsaken, all by himself in this
pretty, but empty little room. He wished Dee would come and visit him. But Dee
was busy amusing the masses, as usual. It was just the kind of person he was,
Ryo thought. Dee was always at the center of a group, telling stories or jokes,
or doing something outrageous. There was no point in getting mad at him about
it. One might as well get mad at a playful otter or monkey for doing what
otters and monkeys do, or scold the wind for blowing or the sun for rising. Dee
was Dee, and deep down, Ryo didn't really want him to be any different.

He
found himself starting to feel very relaxed indeed. He wasn't used to drinking
cocktails, and this one had seemed rather stronger than usual. Maybe it
wouldn't be a bad idea to have a little nap, just until his jeans were ready
and he was therefore able to go home. Ryo set his empty glass on the floor and
dozed off right in the middle of making a mental note to himself to stick to
wine in the future.

On
her way downstairs to the lobby, Diana spotted Todd coming back from delivering
Ryo's jeans to the concierge. She had been keeping an eye out for him because
she had another couple of things for him to do. She felt a little guilty
because she had kept him hopping busy from the moment that he had started work
tonight, but she knew she could count on his efficiency and discretion. Not to
mention his loyalty. Todd was definitely one of her favorites.

"They
need several cans of soda for targets," she told him, stopping in the
middle of the staircase. "It's gonna end up all over the floor, so make it
club soda if you can. Cleanup will be easier that way."

"Hm.
I'll get a mop, too," said Todd.

"One
more thing," Diana said, dropping her voice a little. "I need you to
find out someone's last name for me... and anything you can about his
occupation."

Todd
listened without comment as she elaborated, and then he nodded. "Will do."

&.&.&.&.&.&.&.&

The
Commissioner forced himself to watch with an expression of interest as Laytner
performed a whip crack called the slow figure eight. He raised his hands
afterward, and applauded along with the other supporters of the NYPD. That
black-haired bastard had even had the nerve to dedicate another crack called
the 'snake-killer' to him! The Commissioner watched the show with a lazy smile
on his lips, but those who knew him well would have noticed the smoldering
anger in his eyes. How he wished he could have Laytner in his power (with no
witnesses of course) just for an hour or two. He would cure the man of his
little insubordination problem forever, so much so that his friends and
co-workers would be truly amazed. Laytner would be a better man for it, too.

He
shifted restlessly on his palanquin, and his mind moved in other, more pleasant
directions. Perhaps while Detective Laytner and everyone else were so busy with
their little contest, it might be a thought to go and see how Ryo was doing. He
had an idea where to find him, too.

&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&

Drake
turned sideways and checked himself out in one of the men's room mirrors. Yep,
that was just his normal bulge. No one could accuse him of having a hard-on. He
looked searchingly at his face. He couldn't quite believe that he was about to
go out there and turn down a chance to go home with a beautiful and exciting
woman in favor of a night of sexual activity with another male, and one that he
worked with, moreover. What was that JJ had called him, 'bi-curious'? His
partner was right about that. He wouldn't call himself gay, but he WAS curious,
and he hadn't had much experience with men. Apart from an incident he only
vaguely remembered from high school, in which he had awoken from a drunken stupor
to find the elder brother of one of his hockey teammates performing an act of
fellatio on him, JJ had been the only man he had had sex with. It had happened
several months ago on a cabin cruiser, during their trip to Canada. Neither
incident had gone anywhere or been repeated.

His
teammate's brother acted like nothing had happened the next day, and as for JJ,
he had gone right back to his worship of the elusive 'Dee-sempai' upon their
return to the city. Sometimes it seemed to Drake like he was not destined to
have any kind of lasting connection with anybody, since every woman he had ever
gone out with always broke things off with him sooner or later. Although that
wasn't strictly true with JJ. Nothing had changed between them last time, and
although Drake had been a little insulted that JJ had not seemed interested in
pursuing the matter, he had to admit that he had been relieved that they still
had a normal friendship and working relationship afterward. No matter what
happened tonight, they would still be friends tomorrow, as his partner had
said.

Now,
all he had to do was to find the guts to go out there and tell Serena that he
wouldn't be going home with her after all. The thought filled him with dread.
He hoped she wouldn't yell at him. Or cry. Crying would definitely be worse.
There had been lots of yelling and crying forthcoming from the women he had
dated in the past, often for reasons that he was still in the dark about.

He
left the restroom area and walked back towards the party room. At the doorway,
a small fast-moving form clad in an outfit that seemed to consist mostly of
leather straps held together with a few silver chains here and there barreled
into him and they both went down in a jumbled heap.

"Oh!
Oh! Oh!" gasped the person - Drake was genuinely unsure whether it was a
boy or a girl - "Let me go, quick!
It's an emergency!" Frantic struggling ensued.

"Sure,
just a moment." Drake realized that the creature was wearing a collar with
a leash attached to it, and that the leash had somehow become twisted around
his bat-cape when they had fallen. He used his one free hand to unfasten the
buckle on the back of the collar, and suddenly the little slave was twisting
away from him, dashing off in the direction of the restrooms.

A
few seconds later, Ted appeared, craning his neck this way and that. His
eyebrows shot up at the sight of Drake sitting on the floor with a leash
wrapped around him and collar in his hand. "Hey man, what happened to
you?"

"A
minor collision with a... a... well, I'm not sure what the costume was. Either
a dog or a slave. Yeah, a slave, I think."

"Boy
or girl?"

"Damned
if I know. Here help me with this leash-thing, wouldya?"

Ted
knelt and helped him unwind it. "Mens' room or ladies' room?"

"I
didn't happen to see. Why the hell do you care?"

Ted
shrugged. "I don't, not really. I'm just curious, that's all."

"Well,
you can wait here and find out, if you want. I have to go and talk to
Serena."

"Serena?
You know Serena? Man, what a hottie! Didya see the hooters on her?"

"Yeah,
I saw them," said Drake with a little grimace. "See, she's supposed
to take me home to her place later. I gotta go talk to her." He headed
into the ballroom, leaving Ted standing open-mouthed behind him.

"She's
supposed to - to take... you?"
All thoughts of staking out the bathrooms forgotten, he hurried after Drake,
saying "Wait a sec! She didn't say anything about that! Are you serious,
bud?"

They
walked past the palanquin where Todd the bartender guy was sitting talking
earnestly to one of the bearers. Serena was performing a complicated volley
routine with a whip in each hand, snapping out what sounded like a rock and
roll beat while her rapt audience clapped along.

Dee
grabbed Ted's arm and pointed excitedly. "Hey dude, good thing you didn't
miss that! Awesome, huh? Do you have any idea how difficult it is to do that
with two different-sized whips?"

"Yeah,
she's pretty awesome," agreed Ted glumly, shooting a sideways look at
Drake. Why didn't Batman look happier? He had secured the prime chick in the
room, but he was looking kind of nervous and down for some strange reason.

Serena
reached her finale and then tossed both whips high in the air. Catching each by
its handle as it descended, she performed a sweeping bow, which taxed the
ability of her latex bustier to keep her abundant breasts in check. Ted could
have sworn he saw a hint of rosy nipple-top when she stood upright again. The
audience erupted into noisy applause, and Niko, who had appointed himself as a
sort of master of ceremonies, stepped forward to explain what Serena had done
and to announce the next trick that he would be performing.

"Serena,
I -" Drake began.

"Drake!
Where were you for so long?" she was smiling, flushed with the excitement
and effort of carrying out her whip routine. "Well, never mind. Did you
find your friend?" She took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

Drake
was aware of the proximity of JJ. He couldn't see him, but he KNEW his partner
was somewhere nearby, probably scowling. He could just feel it.

"Serena,
I...I have to talk to you," Drake said quickly, but words failed him, and
he just stood there, blushing and feeling uncomfortable.

She
let go of his hand and looked at him closely for a long moment. Her smile
didn't disappear, it just...got different, in a way he couldn't have explained, even if he had wanted to.

"I
take it there's been a change in plans?"

"Uh,
yeah. I'm really sorry," Drake muttered, looking abashed.

"May
I ask why?"

He
hesitated, wondering if he should give her some ego-salvaging story about a
sick grandmother or something, but in the end, he found himself unable to lie
to her face to face.

"Serena,
it's not you. You're the most gorgeous woman in the room. You've got everything
going for you, and I can't believe that you even wanted to talk to me, let
alone go to bed with me."

"But?"
she prompted, rotating one hand impatiently.

"Um,
it's been, um, brought to my attention that I'm, ah, 'bi-curious'," he
said, blushing furiously.

To
his surprise, she threw back her head and laughed. "Drake, I could have told you that!" she said.

"Me
too," interjected Ted, who had been, unbeknownst to Drake, shamelessly
eavesdropping.

"Screw
you, Ted!"

"Man,
I hope not," muttered Ted.

"Don't
worry, Ted. You're not in ANY danger, whatsoever," sniped JJ, who had also
been shamelessly eavesdropping from a position more or less directly behind
Drake.

"I
wish I could believe you," said Ted glumly.

"What
on earth are you talking about?" asked Serena.

"The
curse of our precinct," Ted informed her. "Guys come in straight, and
naturally think they're gonna stay that way, despite the fact that the 27th is
a teeming hotbed of gay intrigue. But next thing they know, they're being
seduced in broom closets and having strange new feelings of gayness." He
shook his head and gave her a mock-confused look. "But not me," he
added. "Not yet, anyhow. They'll probably get me eventually, though."

"Ted,
do you mind?" demanded Drake peevishly. "Serena and I were
talking."

"No
Drake," she broke in. "I believe we're finished talking. You and JJ
are talking now. And I'm having a conversation with Ted." She held out her
arm to Ted, who took it delightedly and led her away.

"Careful
tonight, man," he couldn't resist calling over his shoulder to Drake, half
snickering. "Remember, curiosity killed the bat."

Drake
gave him a double middle finger salute and let them go.

&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&

The
Commissioner surreptitiously slipped around the side of the heavy velvet
curtain he had witnessed Ryo emerge from earlier when he had rushed to save
Pamela.

Ah,
there he was, fast asleep in a tumble of shapely limbs on a chaise lounge in
the corner. He lay on his side, his light brown hair softly falling back from
his face. Ryo had a youthful face under normal circumstances, but with his
features softened by sleep, he looked even younger and more innocent than
usual.

The
Commissioner's observant eyes swept over the room. Was that... lotion on the
counter? And a box of tissues? Lord, if this wasn't the setting for a fantasy!
It was too bad that sweet Ryo wouldn't see it the same way if he were to awaken
precipitously. Rose hoped that the younger man was a deep sleeper, because his
desire to see what kind of underwear, if any, that Ryo was wearing had done
nothing but grow since the all too brief moment that he had seen Ryo running to
Pamela's aid.

On
silent feet, he moved toward the chaise lounge.

&.&.&.&.&.&.&

Dee
scanned the room for the third time, hoping to catch sight of Ryo. He would be
performing in a minute, and the showoff inside him wanted Ryo to watch him
carve up cans of club soda with his whip. Where had his partner gotten to? He
spotted Diana plying the Commissioner's now quite tipsy bearers with yet
another jug of drinks. She would know where Ryo was. Hadn't she said something
about a room near the coat check? He would ask her as soon as she headed over
this way.

"Hey
Dee!" It was Ted. "You gotta help me out, man."

"What's
up?"

"Your
friend Serena. She's thinking about maybe taking me home tonight, but she's
worried that I'm too innocent for her! Shit, can you believe it? Me, innocent?
Just 'cause I didn't know what a tawse was."

"If
you're going home with Serena, trust me, you don't want to know what a tawse
is."

"Come
on, Dee, you gotta talk to her for me. I must be giving off a vanilla vibe
here. Can you convince her I'm a sex-beast?"

"What
the hell do you expect me to say? That I slept with you and your screams of
passion nearly got me evicted?"

"Be
serious, would you, dude? Just tell her I've got a rep with the girls in the
typing pool or something."

Dee
sighed exaggeratedly and rolled his eyes. "All right then. But you owe me
one, got it? As in beer. And I want food, too."

"Dude,
if you can talk her into going to bed with me, you can watch the Seahawks fuck
the Raiders at my place next Monday, beer and burgers provided by yours
truly."

"Okay,
I'll be right back." Dee strode over to Serena.

&.&.&.&.&.&.&.&.&.

Ryo
awoke to the delicious twin sensations of Dee's hand caressing his thigh, and
his lover's lips nibbling softly on the side of his neck. "Dee," he
breathed, stretching languorously, and abandoning himself to the sexy little
chills that the other man's touch was causing to run all over his skin. So Dee
hadn't forgotten about him, after all.

"Sexy,"
Dee's voice came out as a muffled groan against the back of his neck. Ryo could
feel his partner's body stretched out behind him on the chaise lounge, and he
lay there in a sleep-fuddled but semi-aroused state, enjoying the sensations.
He would have to stop Dee in a minute of course; after all this was hardly the
time or place for them to be getting up to anything. There wasn't even a proper
door on this room, only a curtain.

What
Ryo found most sensual of all was that while Dee's left hand was sliding up
under his tunic to stroke his bare hip, the other hand was over his eyes. He
felt as though he were wearing a blindfold. Oddly enough, it created a strange
illusion of privacy, which seemed almost to shut out the world beyond the
curtain. He started to shift on the chaise lounge, trying to roll onto his
back. Dee's hand moved with him, staying over his eyes.

"Dee,
kiss me," Ryo whispered.

The
second Dee's lips descended onto his, he knew that something was wrong. There
was no sweetness, only conquest. The mouth felt wrong, the taste was not Dee's!

Ryo
jerked his head back, wrenching at the hand that covered his eyes.
"You!" he hissed.

&.&.&.&.&.&.&.&.&.&

"Hey,"
Dee said to Serena. "I see you're getting all cozy with my buddy
Ted."

"Well,
Ted's a real sweetheart," she replied, looking a little doubtfully at him.
"But you know me, Dee. My tastes are somewhat ... how shall I put it ...
out of the ordinary? I don't want to traumatize the poor boy."

Dee
grinned at her. "Believe me, it would do Ted good to be traumatized.
Besides, he's not as vanilla as you think."

"He's
not?"

"Nah.
He's got all kinds of perverted desires, but he doesn't know how to find a
woman who's willing to do him the way he wants to be done."

"Oh,
and how is that?"

"Well,"
said Dee dropping his voice conspiratorially, "he's got this huge pegging
fantasy. He told me about it because I'm bi and I've kinda got a rep for all
the shit I got up to in my younger years. I guess he figured I might
understand."

"He
wants to be pegged?" Serena looked surprised. "I wouldn't have
'pegged' him for a bend-over-boyfriend type."

"Well,
me neither, but he told me he rented that movie seven times!" Somehow, Dee
managed to keep a totally straight face as these words left his lips. Ted was
gonna kill him, not having ever said any such thing. But if his co-worker ended
up actually letting Serena peg him, there was a chance he'd never mention it.

"Which
movie? Bend Over Boyfriend?"

"Yeah.
Either that one or Strap On Chicks.
I forget which."

"Hmm."
Serena looked over at Ted, who was standing next to Rowan and Jordan. He waved
at her, and she blew him a kiss.

"So
I think that although he probably wouldn't go for anything heavier than a
little mild flogging, he'd jump at the chance to give you his
butt-cherry," Dee whispered evilly, hoping that God didn't have him under
surveillance right at that particular moment. "Don't tell him I told you,
though."

Serena
smiled, and made that little lip-zipping motion she had made earlier. "I
won't, Dee. Hey, any chance I can be introduced to your boyfriend before we
leave here tonight?"

"Yeah,
sure. I'll get Diana to reveal his secret location for us right after I do my
bit for the NYPD with this here whip. Stick around for a little while, okay?
Ted's butt has waited all these years; it can wait another ten minutes."

"Oh,
I wouldn't want to miss your performance," she said. "You haven't
lost your accuracy, judging by the way you shortened the Commissioner's cigar
earlier."

"Bastard."
Dee's eyes narrowed, and he looked around. "Where the hell is he,
anyway?"

"Dee!"
called Niko, obviously having left behind the cold formality of 'Detective
Laytner', now that they were whip-wielding teammates. "Everyone's waiting
for you. Are you ready?"

"You
kiddin'? I exist in a state of readiness." The Commissioner temporarily
forgotten, Dee strode forward to take his place in the center of the circle of
spectators.

Squeals
went up at the sight of him, a tall, well-built man in a gladiator costume,
with a whip in his hand, no less. Cell phone cameras flashed as photos were
taken, and he struck a series of grinning poses for his admirers, completely
unhindered by any hint of modesty.

"Jordan
would like to assist you with this trick, Dee," said Niko in a loud voice.
He stood with a hand on the shoulder of one of his slaves, the one that was NOT
running to the toilet every five minutes.

"Oh?"
said Dee, looking doubtfully at the shyly smiling slave.

"Show
him what you can do, my sweet," Niko said encouragingly, and Jordan
promptly began juggling six cans of club soda.

Dee
held both whips in either hand, Niko's six-foot bullwhip in his left hand and
the four-foot signal whip that had been a part of Ryo's costume in the other.

"As
Jordan tosses each can in the air, I'm gonna spank it with the small whip and
slice it in half with the bigger one," he announced. "Remember, stay
back out of harm's way. If Jordan tosses a can toward you, run like hell!"

The
crowd laughed at his joke, but he and Jordan both knew that he wouldn't be
cracking either whip close to the spectators.

"Ready?"
Dee caught Jordan's eye. "Throw!"

A
can of club soda went sailing through the air. True to his word, Dee snapped
the small whip at it, puncturing but not cutting it right through, and a second
later, the second whip sliced the spraying, spinning can in half, a mere
eighteen inches before it hit the ground.

The
crowd howled and clapped, even the non-NYPD members.

"Little
higher next time, okay?" Dee said out of the side of his mouth toward
Jordan, who nodded earnestly and tossed the second can up as high as possible.

&.&.&.&.&.&.&.&.&.&.

"You!"
repeated Ryo with horror.

"Yes,
I'm afraid so." The Commissioner's voice was a little unsteady, but still
smooth and urbane. He immediately released Ryo and rolled off the chaise lounge
and into a standing position. If the young detective was going to throw a punch
at him, as he appeared to be contemplating doing, Rose preferred to be on his
feet.

"How
dare you?" Ryo's eyes
flashed. "I thought you had at least some integrity."

"Please
consider my behavior just now to be something in the nature of a practical
joke. And don't expect any apologies. I'm afraid I can't bring myself to regret
one second of that... delicious, responsive squirming."

"Get
out of here this instant! Get OUT before I knock you into the middle of next
week!"

Without
taking his eyes from his opponent, and trembling with unexpressed rage, Ryo
rose to his feet with his fists clenched, ready to carry out his threat if the
leering Commissioner did not leave immediately. Unfortunately, he promptly
stumbled over a cushion that had fallen onto the floor. He staggered forward
and Rose caught him, seizing the opportunity to pull him close once more. For a
breathless moment Ryo found himself held tightly against the Commissioner's
broad chest where he could feel the man's heart pounding against his own. But
suddenly, one of the Commissioner's hands sneaked down to his thigh and slid up
under his tunic to his thong-covered ass.

"Sir!"
he protested, struggling madly to get his balance back.

"Ah,
just as I thought," murmured the Commissioner smoothly. "Welts. I
think perhaps you were a disobedient slave earlier. Did he fuck you
after?"

He
had no sooner gotten those words out than there was a thudding explosion of
sparks on one side of his face as Ryo's fist connected with his jaw and sent
him spinning back out of the alcove.

&.&.&.&.&.&.&.&.&

~end of Chapter 14~

Author's notes:
Did you laugh? I hope so. Thanks for reading. The next post will be in
either one week or two, depending on whether I can get chapter 16 finished this
weekend or not. If you want to read chapter 15, go and look on my LJ. It's there now. http://brit-columbia.livejournal.com/
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- 15
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Slave to a Gladiator