Writer's Notes:
'Real Love' is my personal tribute to JammyJimmy's (JJ) story, 'Threads: The Island'. I give JJ credit, because credit is due, for this story and for my own inspiration and entrance into writing. 'Real Love' is actually the first story I wrote, even before 'Tale of Two Teens', my first published story.
As I was writing this story way back when, I was hoping JJ would be the editor. Having been unable to make contact with him, I have been reluctant to release it. Some say JJ has passed away, but I don't know. JJ, if you read this and want this story removed, please contact me. Several readers have relayed to me, both publically and privately, that they would like it released.
Therefore, 'Real Love' is an unauthorized, reimagined rewrite and sequel to JJ's story, 'Threads: The Island'. The general storyline in JJ's story is embedded in this story. Several of the character names have been changed because this is my story. Anyone who has read JJ's story will identify the characters quickly, starting with my main character, Bradley Weber, formerly known as Kyle Watson in JJ's story.
This story is long, but tolerant and filled with several emotions. If you stick with it, you will experience euphoria, happiness, sadness, sorrow and it will make you horny. You'll be disgusted, pissed off, scared and you'll grieve, cry, frown, smile and sometimes, you'll laugh, I hope.
'Real Love' starts off slow, but gains speed with age. Feel free to leave comments about what you like and what you dislike about the story. Feedback is a good thing for those writers who want to know what reader's like and dislike about their stories.
Please don't be mean in the comments because those that put in many hours over a period of several months, and thought into designing and writing these stories don't appreciate it, nor do they deserve it.
I do hope you enjoy the 'Real Love' series. Just don't forget one important detail -- it's fiction. Please do give us 'not so professional' writers a little slack.
JJ, wherever you are, whatever you're doing, fair winds and following seas my friend.
Let the saga of Bradley Weber continue...
MDSW
* * * * *
With his lower lips pushed out, any punch lines he could've said are forgotten by the arrival of Margaret, an overweight, older woman, with her face constantly glued in a pissed off expression with an attitude.
"You would be Bradley," she says, looking him up and down like a piece of meat that has gone moldy. "Hmmm."
"You must be Margaret?" he guesses.
"Who else would I be?" she asks, looking at him as if he's dumb.
"Stand up."
Brad looks at Kelly who has a slightly amused look on her face, obviously having dealt with Margaret before. He stands and moves away from the chair.
"Arms up. Feet apart."
Brad does as she orders.
"Hmmm. You need to get him in shape, Kelly," Margaret states, scowling.
"We're seeing Julian next," Kelly replies.
"Can't happen soon enough," she mutters.
Margaret produces a measuring tape from her pocket and begins to poke and prod at Brad, occasionally taking measurements and sighing in exasperation when he doesn't lift his arms or turn around quick enough.
"Make sure Julian recommends injections, Kelly."
"Injections?" Brad asks. "What do I need injections for?"
Margaret looks him straight in the eye.
"Because you're in a pitiful condition and my work will be impossible unless every possible step is taken. Just do as you're told."
"Excuse me! Have you looked in the mirror lately?" Brad says, kind of pissed off. "And I don't like your tone, Margaret."
"I imagine there's lots of things in life you don't like," the old woman replies, ignoring her own condition. "Now, can you stop talking so I can finish up and do my job?"
"Jesus fucking Christ," Brad mutters.
"Margaret," Kelly says, standing at her shoulder now. "I think you're done. Brad has another appointment now."
"Two more measurements," she replies, ignoring Kelly's order. "I'll tell you when I'm done."
At that she drops to her knees and Brad feels a hand at his groin, probing and searching for his genitals. He jumps back quickly.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Margaret looks up at him.
"Have you never been fitted for trousers before, young man? I need to know what side you dress to and how much room I need to allow. Now stand still."
Brad looks at Kelly, who's trying not to laugh.
"This isn't funny," he mutters as he stands there, trying not to think about the annoying woman cupping his balls.
"Hmmm. You dress to the right then?"
"Yeah," Brad grunts.
"You should have just said so," Margaret replies, sighing as she measures his inside leg.
"You didn't give me much of a chance."
"Whatever," Margaret says, getting to her feet. "I'm done. I'll be back tomorrow for a fitting. I'll need forty minutes."
"I'll let you know," Kelly replies. "Margaret, can you select an outfit for Brad to wear when he meets his sisters please."
The old woman sniffs, then casts her eyes up and down Brad again.
"Very well."
As soon as she left, Brad goes to the balcony and lights a cigarette.
"I see why her reputation precedes her."
Kelly chuckles.
"Wait until you see the suit she'll put together for you though."
Brad put on the mock sad face.
"Still, I feel violated."
"You'll get over it," Kelly says. "Come with me please. We need to go see Julian now."
Julian turns out to be much nicer than Margaret. Inanely cheerful and almost overdosing on enthusiasm, he bounces around, full of energy, and Brad finds it uplifting talking with him. He's been working on the Island for three years now, having had a chunk shot out his buttock during military service in Afghanistan. While the Army has patched him up, he was left with a decidedly odd-looking ass, so when he was raising money for surgery to fix it, he came to the attention of Danny Packard.
"Mr Packard paid for the surgery, then for my qualifications as a trainer, and then he hired me to work here with the staff. I've been here for nearly three years now. Man, it's an awesome place to be."
"It seems so," Brad agrees.
After Julian has a look at him, he pulls together a rapid tone-up plan that would require Brad to have three workouts per day, a special diet and he finally finds out about the injections.
The first is a booster to his metabolism, enabling a rapid burn-off of his body fat. The second is a little more unusual. One of the pharmaceutical research companies owned by Danny Packard has come up with a muscle-repair serum that enables torn or injured muscles to repair themselves at a rapidly accelerated rate. It was designed with injured troops in mind, allowing those with minor injuries to return to the front line much quicker and those with major injuries to repair and heal faster too.
Part of it's design also assists the extraction of protein from his diet, which helps to build more muscle. It's classified and not publicly available, being restricted to the military for the time being, but it has also being tested on a number of body builders and the results are phenomenal. Brad is concerned that it's some form of anabolic steroid, but he's assured by Julian that it's 'all cool'.
Then they're off to meet the Island's resident physician. The doctor is in her mid thirties, with short and tidy red hair, but her cheeks are flushed, as if she's having trouble with the heat.
Kelly introduces them.
"Mr Bradley Weber, Doctor Terry Kerr."
While she gives Brad a physical examination, he asks her about the injections that Julian has recommended. To his surprise she seems perfectly fine with it, as long as he agrees that they last no more than two weeks. She also informs him that he needs a tetanus booster and he should probably have a contraceptive injection.
"A what?" Brad asks.
"It's a hormonal contraceptive injection for men," she says and shrugs. "Short term, only lasts for a month or so and then things are back to normal a few weeks later, but it stops the production of sperm. Given the injections you're already getting, the enhanced endorphins from the exercise and a sudden boost in confidence that you're likely to receive, it's almost certain that your libido will sky-rocket."
"My libido?" Brad says. "Right now it's at absolute zero."
"Oh well. That'll change."
"You seem really sure of that, Doc," Brad points out.
"Mr Weber, I'm very good at my job. Everyone here on the Island is," she explains. "I'm recommending you have this injection because it's the smart thing to do and it certainly won't do any harm. Now, are you planning on making any babies in the next eight weeks?"
"What? No... And call me Brad please."
"Okay. Call me Terry," she replies. "Then what's the big deal? Take the injection."
She shrugs and disappears into a side room.
"Fucking hell," Brad mutters, realizing that no matter what has happened in the last thirty-six hours, things just keep getting crazier.
"Kelly!" he shouts.
The door opens. "Yeah?"
"The Doc's saying I should have a contraceptive injection."
"Go for it," Kelly says, shrugging as if it's a no-brainer. "What's the problem?"
"I'm..."
"Brad, women have been taking the pill for years. I recommend you get the injections, or these new implant things too. If you ask me, it's about time men take their turn."
At that she grins and closes the door.
Doctor Kerr re-appears, a small tray with four needles on it.
"Yes or no, Brad?"
He closes his eyes, sighs and reminds himself it's only temporary.
"Okay."
"Turn around and drop your shorts," the doctor tells him, taking a seat on a chair beside him.
With a slight flush, Brad does as requested and feels her rubbing at his buttock with an antiseptic wipe.
"You should feel a small prick," Doctor Kerr warns him. "Probably not something a lot of guys want to hear when it comes to something going in their ass, is it?"
Brad chuckles, then flinches as she chose that moment to stick the needle in him.
"Sneaky, Terry. And no I'm not a prick, yet."
"Funny, but only for the first one."
