Accident or Attacked

A game of squash at my club ended in an accident

Accident or Attacked.

or was it just meant to look like an accident?

Playing squash in a Friday night league game I was inadvertently wacked by my opponent's racket which forced me to concede the game. Normally I would wait until home before showering on this occasion I decided to have a shower at the Club hoping an early shower would prevent any bruising from showing.

Towel on I headed from the locker room into the showers, being right handed instinctively turned right and selected a shower stall. I tried to hang my towel on the adjacent peg but the peg fell off, the Allander Leisure Centre was plagued with snagging problems since its rebuild.

Frustratingly I dumped my towel on the bench seat.

The shower was one of those water saving designs where you punch the button and you get about three minutes of water then you spar with it until you have showered. I hit the ball shaped button out came cold water stepped back out the cold spray waiting for it to run hot.

Something caught my eye, didn't know what, at the opposite end of the showers someone was on the floor not moving, caught unaware I paused as I took in what I was looking at.

It was then I noticed blood running from his head towards a drain on the floor. Reality kicked in I went to help, midway near the shower entrance I noted an emergency alarm, punched it, instantaneously it lit up but no sound.

I thought another bloody thing not working.

I saw movement and heard muttering, something that could have been 'don't hit me again' I kneeled down the left side and his face was covered in blood with blood streaming from his nose and mouth. He also had whelk marks on his body and legs.

He reached up put his arms around my neck hugging me as he tried to get up, I knew he should stay on the floor but wasn't going to be deterred from getting up, a sort of flight survival thing.

Anyway I wrapped my arms around him under his arms bear hugging style helping lift him on to the bench seat. I don't know what any onlooker would have thought, two naked guys hugging each other, I must have been hurting him I could feel him squirm and cry out in distress.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a paramedic with a large red first responder kit on his back 'what a relief.' I don't know what he must have though, two guys holding each other covered in blood. With an extra pair of hands we got him seated on the bench, I stood back as the paramedic started checking him over.

A second voice in my ear said.

"Ok we have him" firmly saying "go and wash that blood off under the shower; right now!"

As I walked away towards my towel and shower area I noticed three middle shower stalls taped off. First said 'maintenance' second 'Police do not cross' third 'maintenance.'

I went into my shower stall hit the button, cold then hot water cascaded over me, I looked down all I could see was blood washing off me and running down the drain. Not mine? I had to convince myself of that by patting my body, my turn to wince as I touched the top right hand side of my hip where I had been wacked by the squash racket.

Dried off donned my towel and walked towards the two paramedics who were still wiping blood and drying off the person who had fallen on the floor and applying suture plasters.

A body raced passed me in a staff track suit with seams pressed into its trousers and a clip board in hand saying to me.

"Wait outside!"

I sat at my locker wearing my towel recovering from shock, two paramedics with their red responder kits on their back came out of the shower area assisting the person whom I had found on the floor.

At least he was now recognisable with blood wiped off his face and body and sat him down alongside me. He said "thanks."

First Paramedic; "Kenneth get your friend to take you to A&E to be checked out as a precaution, you received quite a bang on your head when you fell."

Kenneth subdued, clearly in shock, replied "okay I will."

Second paramedic to me.

"Normally we would get an ambulance to take him to A&E, given it a Friday night and the shortage of ambulances could mean a wait of three or more hours; can you take him?"

What could I say, other than his name I didn't know him, "yes ok."

The pressed tracksuit with clip board and pen in hand asked me.

"Can you tell me who you are and what happened?"

I gave him name rank and phone number and what happened.

He started a new page and asked.

"Kenneth can you tell me your address, phone number and what happened?"

I couldn't hear his reply. Off went the pressed track suit clipboard in hand chasing after the Paramedics for their statements with a loud encore directed at me.

"Remember take your friend to A&E, head injuries can be quite serious."

What a twat.

We both sat there with only towels on, at least we now knew each others name. I dressed then helped Kenneth dress, we were both equally embarrassed doing that.

My car was a low slung sports car and painful for Kenneth to get into, getting him out at A&E was more challenging.

Hospital A&E was quiet the Friday night mayhem hadn't yet developed into frenzy. We were there for an hour and a half, matching track suites categorised us as accidental casualties.

Prognosis was Kenneth had lost a lot of blood and may have a mild concussion as such someone had to stay with him overnight. He had already confided in me he had Patron, I didn't know what that actually meant but he was overseas on business.

The senior nurse who was clearly a veteran of weekend triage wouldn't let him fob her off with an unconvincing "yes ok". She was a formidable force looked at me and told me in no uncertain words as you are good friends I would have to stay overnight with him.

It was now clear to me that Kenneth was gay with a sugar daddy, the iron willed Triage Nurse Practitioner somehow knew this and I was conscripted-in to be his night nurse. The penalty clause in her argument, otherwise Kenneth would have to stay overnight in an emergency ward with all the Friday night junkies and drunks.

Not really a negotiable point what could I say but "okay I will stay with him" she went on to explain what that meant. I would have to check on him every half hour. With an iron stare said even if that means you have to sit on his bed. She thought I was gay too.

Kenneth's place was one of those high-end one bedroom apartments's you associate with discreet girlfriends, or boyfriends I suppose.

I could see he was still doped up with the medication and pain killers they gave him.

He headed for bed I had to undress him, not as embarrassing for either of us this time. I also undressed went into the living room and lay on a couch with a blanket over me.

My watch dinged every thirty minutes to go and check on him, one time he was wandering about the living room looking at me with only underwear on.

He sat on down on the couch opposite me, still shaking, told me who his Patron nicknamed JoJo was, and their history together; I was surprised but impressed.

He seemed reluctant to leave me in shock I presumed. Then said "can you come to bed with me I don't want to be alone, in case they come back." I didn't know what to say but "yes ok."

We both lay naked in his bed apart from our underwear, it was a big fun sized bed, with Kenneth spooning me and arm round my waist for security. The half hour checking regime had taken its toll we both woke up early, I had to help him out of bed.

We sat at his breakfast bar chatting having coffee, cereal and toast with only our underwear on. Doorbell rang nervously frightened Kenneth asked me to answer it, still unsettled from last night. I retrieved my track suit bottoms from the bedroom chair pulled them on and went to answer the door.

Standing their were two serious looking individuals with identification cards in their hands, a tall, slim, attractive DI Carol McLagan and a six foot plus bear size DS Tom Moor.

Carol introduced themselves as a specialist team of investigators dealing with potential homophobic violence and asked 'could they come in.'

I stepped back, more in surprise of who they were, and invited them in just as Kenneth returned from his bedroom struggling to pull-on his track suit bottoms in full view of everyone.

I introduced Carol and Tom to him and invited them to sit down Kenneth was very nervous and sat close alongside me on one of the two couches.

We were both only wearing matching tracksuit bottoms, no shirt, trainers or anything else.

Kenneth seemed reluctant to say anything.

Carol kicked things off with a soft but caring voice as her sergeant switched on the voice recorder in his phone.

"Last night's incident at the Allander Leisure Centre has been brought to our attention by the Centre and the Hospital you attended, particularly because of the extent of injuries you suffered Kenneth.

There have been a number of similar incidents happen over the past few months and we want to see if they are connected?"

Like you see on the Police interrogation program's Tom turned and looked at me with a penetrating stare in a slow deep gruff voice asked.

"Shane tell us what happened, in your own words?"

I reiterated what happened and why I went for a shower following the squash racket accident as opposed to my normal showering at home and hospital insisting I stay the night with Kenneth.

Carol looked at Tom then me and turned to Kenneth.

"We know you are gay you don't rent this apartment your Patron allows you to live here with an allowance, in consideration for shall we say sexual favors.

Did you know the previous person who lived here, under similar arrangements, ended up in hospital after he was videoed in a compromising act with a well-known businessman of questionable pedigree?"

Kenneth stuttered. "No I only moved in three weeks ago."

"Did you see what happened to Shane?"

"Yes; but he was deliberately hit by his opponent's squash racket, I was up in the gallery watching them play."

"What makes you say deliberately hit?"

"Shane didn't step in front of him as he claimed but being left handed, like me, stepped behind Shane and hit him in the back with his racket. By chance managed to also hit the ball and returned it after it hit the wall it fell almost straight down, game over.

He blamed Shane for deliberately blocking his return, Shane had to concede the game due to his injury anyway. It was then he saw me looking down at him; gave me a scary smile and walked away.

I went to the showers enroute I saw him leaving the changing room, I was angry at what he had done and said 'I saw you deliberately hit your opponent, you should be disqualified from the Friday league.'

Gave me a sniggering smile walked past bumping me as he left.

I got undressed and went into the shower being left handed I went to a shower stall on the left no other reason the water had just started to run hot, I felt more than heard someone behind me. I got hit over the head with something hard and started to stagger then I fell, they kept hitting and kicking me, I must have passed out or something."

Carol interrupted; "you said they not him, was their more than one person attacking you."

"Yes I think so I was being hit on both sides of my body at the same time.

Next thing I remember I was trying to get up as Shane turned up and helped me, bits before and in-between are a blurred, then the Paramedics arrived.

Is what happened to us connected?"

Carol came back with "too soon to say we are still investigating" continued.

"The taped off shower stalls were the site of another incident where a person was much more seriously injured. The adjacent stalls had slogans painted on them their panels were removed for forensic examination, hence the maintenance tapes.

Two other as yet unconnected incidents are;

A politician and a government official were filmed in an apartment in what can be best described as a willing gang bang with two girls. Girls have since mysteriously disappeared.

In another apartment, two guys of prominent notoriety were having BDSM fun together, were tied up by others whipped and beaten with a cane, they were filmed too. Again slogans painted on their walls.

Both films were put up for auction on the darkweb, someone bought them and put them on the internet for all to see, it had a devastating impact on their public credibility.

On the surfaces they all seem linked but we can't prove it, at the moment."

Tom with his gruff voice kicked in.

"Shane on the surface you seem to be the odd one out, you are a Banker dealing with offshore accounts, a tax efficiency advisor as your profession like it to be known and have been in Cape Town for almost four years now. With regular trips back here, to attend business events and visit family.

Can you shine any light as to any reasons you could have been targeted under the guise of an accident?"

"My work in offshore banking and finance is made somewhat contentious by government, for public consumption, however, they are primarily users of our services by monetary value one of our main customer streams.

They make laws that allow us to optimise our services, which was some of the reasons Brexit happened to facilitate discreet Government financing and offshore banking of surpluses."

Tom came back without any challenge asking.

"Have you heard of the Pink Pound, Pink Euro or Pink Dollar?"

"Yes they are one of the main sources of individualist investments.

Gay fraternity globally is one of the greatest sources of spending and surplus income savers looking to discreetly reinvest their money. That is one of the many sources of investment finance into the Consortium I work for.

Private and Corporate Offshore banking by definition is secretive and secure, not being underwritten by Government's who are one of our biggest borrower and investor in the International Offshore market.

Remember Iceland during the banking crisis.

This is the reason Government's allow us to trade with lesser public reporting constraints than domestic finance markets."

Carol said "thankyou that's all we will let you know the outcome of our investigations."

As Kenneth and I stood up, as a courtesy on them leaving, not having any shirts on the extent of both our bruising became apparent, although by comparison Kenneth torso looked like the tattoo man.

Tom asked "before we leave can we photograph your injuries?"

Both of us said "sure."

Strangely Kenneth seemed embarrassed at removing his track suit bottoms and standing their in his underwear in front of Carol. They clicked away with their phone cameras for a few minutes.

Tom asked us to stand together comparing our bruising and took a handful of photographs as Carol held a 'L' shaped ruler at the bruise on my back from the squash racket and several loud bruises on Kenneth's back, legs and torso.

Tom showed us the photographs pointing out their similarity which was unusual for an accident more from assault, but he would let forensics have a look at them and see what they say.

After they left I asked Kenneth if he was embarrassed standing in front of Carol and Tom in his underwear.

"That was the first time I had been photographed by a girl after stripping off."

I reassured him he didn't need to worry as they were both gay and had partners.

"How do you know that?"

"Remember the homophobic attack a year or so back on Stefan De Vries in Central Station, they were the investigating officers."

Kenneth was still shaken and the pain killers were wearing off, asked me to stay until his friend turned up. I also got the impression that he was 'hitting on me' with questions he asked about my lifestyle in Cape Town, which I fobbed off with generalisations.

To pass the time we sat on his balcony in the sun watching a rugby match in the adjacent playing fields, he seemed to enjoy the all male scrums, when we were interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

Kenneth was still a bit tender so I went to open the door and curious to see who his friend was. I was surprised to see Karl standing their Dickie's, Sir Richard Hardcastle's private assistant.

He was not surprised to see me we had met several times over the past four years, as we both worked for the Consortium run by Dickie, its CEO.

Kenneth, although he seemed to know Karl was surprised to see him and asked.

"Where's JoJo?"

Karl replied;

"He's not coming, you seem to have attracted too much of the wrong type of attention and his financial backers have withdrawn from financing his new 'gay' night club venture. When they found out he was gay and had set you up here, they got cold feet in case their backers thought they were gay too.

But you can stay on in the apartment until you make other arrangements."

Kenneth said in a soft voice.

"That's ok, I suppose I sort of expected that."

Karl turned to me and said.

"Dickie asked can you look after Kenneth for a few days at your apartment until we make arrangements."

What could I say but, 'Ok' after all he was our boss and the Consortium owned the apartment I was technically house sitting in for Stacy and Angela who were having an unplanned hiking holiday in India.

I had a promise of a fantastic posting with unlimited earnings in Guernsey for the Consortium what could I say?

Kenneth moved in with me that night the apartment had two bedrooms and what can be best described as a play room which Kenneth and I were mesmerised with. All we had in common was a Police investigation, bruises, Karl and playing squash.

The few days became a few weeks we got on very well with each other, particularly after the third night when Kenneth climbed into my bed, he was high on his painkillers. I was feeling a bit deprived if you catch my drift.

We never said a word to each other I was on my back when he climbed over me, he must have come in oiled up, sat on my dick cowboy style and started to bring me slowly to the boil. I willingly let him it was one of those slow comfortable screws until I had to let go; messy but nice.

He was playing the submissive part, I was to be his Dom. I could see why JoJo, who I had never met, liked him so much later that night we stirred and had another gentle get to know each other experience.

We woke early that morning, after satisfying our morning lust's, I lay with Kenneth's head resting on my chest when I asked him how did he managed to get involved in all of this.

"It all started when my family realised I was gay although I was very secretive about it.

I was in my 2^nd year at the Glasgow Ballet Conservatoire when I got involved, in the biblical sense, with another student who was gay. We went to parties together one night after a fund raising show one of our parties got raided by the Police, after a tip off, the newspapers had a field day.

I was photographed dancing naked with a prominent MSP Minister which the newspapers got hold off. The story they printed along with my photograph proclaimed me as his gay lover and him my Sugar Daddy. I had never met him until that night.

Two days later like magic the whole thing was dropped it wasn't in the public interest. I was forced to leave my family home with nothing other than what I was wearing, my parents were staunch Church Elders.

My dancing friend put me up in his bedsit for a few weeks bit crammed but ok until our course finished. He managed to get a contract on a cruise ship for the season I was literally left out in the cold.

One of my dance instructors who was sympathetic to our plight told me he had a friend who was looking for exotic dancers for a night club in Manchester.