Date: Sun, 25 Sep 2005 08:46:14 -0700 (PDT) From: Bradford Dean Bigelow Subject: Writer's Block 14 The following story is a work of fiction set in the format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature, and is not meant to accurately reflect persons in towns, cities, or governmental areas, in which the story is staged. If sexual scenes involving male to male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states and countries, you are not allowed to read this by law. This is fiction. Don't forget, in real life, to think about 'sexual safety matters'; got condom? "Writer's Block" 14 written By Bradford Dean Bigelow & "Coffee anyone?" "Ooooooh don't tell me." "Okay, I wouldn't tell you that it's Monday morning and you have to get up for work and get to the office, Brad!" "Rats!" "C'mon now. No hangovers allowed!" "Did you fix me a...." "Yeah, here you go. Hangover remedy first." "Did you fix it the way I like it Chase-baby?" "I fixed it perfectly for you, Bradford." "What a lucky man. Did you put everything in it?" "Yes, I didn't forget anything your mother used to use: apple juice, lemon juice, peeled apples, squashed up bananas, chopped gingerroot, um except, didn't have any camomile flowers, but stirred in the slippery elm bark. How's that?" "I'm such a lucky man! Uggggh! This tastes despicable!" "Is that what you used to tell your mother, Bradford?" "No." "Than don't give me that shit and drink it!" As I held my nose and sipped the concoction down, my Chase-baby fondled my balls, as added incentive. "Okay. I think I'm going to puke." "Go ahead. It's your bed, Brad." "I don't think I'm going to puke now." "Must be the slippery elm bark." "Chase-baby, thanks for taking care of me." "Me? It's Bobby and Frank you should be thanking, not me." "Bobby and Frank? Wait til I see those bastards. You know how hard they whipped me?" "Brad, what do you think would have happened if they didn't let Bobby and Frank whip you?" "What do you mean? Bobby put them up to it." "Where did you get that from?" "Before they took me, Bobby pointed me out to the leader." "Is that what you think?" "That's not how it went, Chase-baby?" "No. You were chosen because you showed up after the play had begun." "I did?" "Uh-huh." "But I thought Bobby had pointed me out on purpose... wanted me to be punished." "I don't know why you think Bobby is always out to get you, Brad." "I don't think that." "Yes you do. Why don't you try starting to put some trust in Bobby. You know he had to pull strings for him and Frank to whip you?" "You mean the other guys would have whipped me? I thought it was all a put on?" "Up to a certain point, yes." "I'm confused." "You walked into a scene, on your own free will, right?" "Right." "Bobby and Frank happened to be there, right?" "They were? I thought they started with the group.. initiated it." "They didn't run the group, blockhead. The gruffy guy did. They had been pawns, along with everybody else." "I'm still confused." "Let's just leave it at, if Bobby and Frank weren't there, the muscle guys would have been behind those whips and if your 'friends' hadn't been there for you, you might have wound up with fifty or more stripes on your back, Bradford Dean Bigelow!" "Really?" "That's right and if not for your good friends, Jordan and Kevin, it could have been worse." "Jordan and Kevin? What have they got to do with it?" "Like I said, you don't think that Bobby and Frank did this for you, as a casual favor?" "What do you mean, Chase-baby?" It began to get disturbing, so I sat up, gaining some composure. I'm not sure if it was actually feeling sorry for Bobby, and Frank, or the slippery elm bark. "To save your skin, they promised to bow down before the head honcho, suck him, lick his ass, but it's Jordan and Kevin who alerted Mike and got them out of it." "No kidding. Really? Bobby did that for me?" "And Frank." "You mean, those other guys played like, for real?" "That's right. In fact, some of the guys, the victims, wanted to thank you personally. You became like a hero, in your own right." "Me? A hero? What happened there?" "Well, apparently the three guys, whom had played together often, got off with you getting whipped, so had their fill and went about their business enjoying the party. I mean, they had two hot tops, Bobby and Frank, to use as their slaves, too remember." "Yikes! That's what they would have done? Oh man!" "That's right. Who knows? Maybe Bobby and Frank would have even had to submitted to some bondage, discipline or even sadism." "Oh man. What a blockhead I am!" "Well, I have a publisher's meeting this morning. You're on your own, Brad. Can you handle it?" "Yeah. I'm okay," I replied, my mind still wired on the facts surrounding Bobby and Frank. That revealing news about Bobby and Frank brought me into a sense of reality. I needed to get up and get ready for work. Proceeding to the jon, I looked at my body. 'Whoooa, am I red!' I thought, peering at my skin. I hadn't thought that hung by my arms, during the whipping, lasted long enough to produce a light sunburn. However, being that I received only about twelve lashes... wait a minute. I did an about face, keeping my head stationery, now staring into the mirror, gazing at my back. 'Wow!' I said to myself, noticing that almost all of the damage done a little over tweny-four hours ago, had dissipated. All that remained was about seven scratchlike marks. Reaching over my shoulder, I ran my hand along a couple of them. 'Doesn't even hurt', I remarked to myself. My mind then played back the series of concurring events. That last shout of '50', my body dragged along the sand by two muscletops, being placed on a wooden slab, tied down, feet hoisted up, then my body being viciously attacked by twenty tongues! Fast forward, to the present, my mind then wandered back to the last five minutes, reminding myself of Chase's words. I had a lot to thankful for, having friends in the condo block I lived in. Jordan and Kevin, I could deal with, thanking them so much and all and I knew they would be modest in their acceptance. Frank, well he might want a nice blow job in return, most likely let me slide. But Bobby, well that would be a more difficult task, thanking him. After all, we are not only neighbors, dungeon playmates and working out to be cordial friends, within our little quad, plus tacking on future business partners. But a fellow employee and facing him this morning, not that would be the sticky part. For now I shelved everything else, as I reved up the hot and cold faucets, in the shower. 'Bobby', I thought. 'Bobby'. As I rubbed the soap up and down my body, one hand caught hold of my insatiable cock. Staring at the far wall of the shower, I began speaking, 'What do I do about Bobby?' "I'm out of here, Brad.... hey Bradford! You better get your ass in gear! Do you know what time it is?" "Oh! Okay! Sure, Chase-baby! Thanks!" After a wet kiss from between the glass shower doors, I quickly rinsed all the sudsy water off of me. The only detail left was my hard shaft. I started frantically stroke it. "You don't have time for that, Bradford!" "Huh?' Caught red-handed! "I thought you left, Chase-baby!" "Forgot to brush my teeth. You better save that for later and get moving, Bradford!" Somehow, Chase-baby 'had' taken the delight out of jerking myself off. "Here!" He said, after spitting out the toothpaste, handing me the towel, along with a peck on the lips. "Do you have to go?" I whined to him. "Yes and so do you and you better be nice to Bobby!" Came my Chase-baby's warning, as the towel slipped down my body. I had to laugh to myself, as the lux terry cloth slipped from my hands and got caught on my semi-hard 9c. Then my mind reverted back to Chase-baby's 'warning' to be nice to Bobby. All through shaving, applying my deoderant, slipping into a shirt - I don't wear a white undershirt anymore - briefs, socks, pants, choosing a tie and threading it through the shirt collar, then finally smoothing my hands down the front of my shirt, I thought about Bobby. 'What would satisfy Bobby?' Satisfaction to Bobby could mean a lot of things, but I was bent on picking out things that would please him. Pleasing went into the pleasurable aspect. 'What things pleased Bobby?' Right away, I thought of being held captive in his home dungeon and being mercilessly tortured. That gave way to my last experience, him on top of me, as I lay out on the bondage table, kissing me. 'Nah'. That was something initiated by Bobby. I needed to do something, from me, that would mean a lot to Bobby. One thought occurred to me. I didn't think Frank was game anymore, yet might work out. Bobby had put Darryl and Frank at my disposal, moving them into my division so that I could call on them at time of day, to pleasure me, should I become distressed. Wouldn't Bobby get a kick out of that happening, especially since he put the two up to it? Closing the car door and turning on the ignition, I thought. A second option, which entertained my warped sense of humor, would to put me in a position of being used by Bobby. Maybe even possibly doing some act of self-humiliation, in front of him. Something that wouldn't jeopardize my authority and position, but be seen by Bobby as humiliation. I couldn't think of any set plan, off hand, but would keep plan B in mind. Turning into the executive parking lot, I waved to the attendant boy. My third option lay more in the business itself. Bobby said he had forseen a takeover, which could weasel our way out of our very existence. 'Hmm', I thought, 'it would certainly mean a great deal to Bobby, if I relied on his confidence and took him up on his offer to form our own company.' Of course, I would have to give up my title as CEO of a major corporation, but then again I thought about sharing an office with Bobby, of us working side by side. Maybe more! Our relationship outside of work had become an increasingly tough situation for me to deal with, being over Bobby and not an equal. Maybe this would be a Godsend, a partnership. At the same time, I could more than boost Bobby's ego, pay him back for what he did for me. 'Hell!' I said out loud, I've already talked it out with Chase-baby and he's said it's a good opportunity. I'm gonna do it! "Good morning, Mr. Bigelow!" "Yes, it is George," I replied to the doorman, "and a very good one at that!" I wonder why he looked at me so strangely? The elevator boy wasn't much different, in watching me the whole time I talked his ear off, catching a flight to the fifth floor. "Have a good day, Juan." "Thanks, Mr. Bigelow. You too!" 'Whew! What a hot tamale!' I said to myself, leaving the nineteen year old behind those closing doors. "Good morning, Mr. Bigelow," Chaz Little greeted me. At the condo block, I could be Brad to Chaz, but at work, everything reset to the professionalism that prevailed. "I have some contracts for you to sign, you have a meeting at eleven and..." "I'll take the contracts, Chaz. I want on my desk, in an hour, the salary base of all union employees..." "Yes, Mr. Bigelow." "Cancel the board meeting at eleven." "Cancel, Mr. Bigelow?" "Yes. Set it for Friday, anytime you want." "Friday? Isn't that highly unusual, Mr. Bigelow?" "Yeah, but what the hell!" I gave Chaz, as an excuse, off the top of my head. "At nine thirty, send Darryl Jennings out for coffee and donuts... um.. ahem! How are you and Darryl making out, by the way?" "He's got problems, but we're dealing with them." "Oh." "Why? Were you thinking of holding him to Bobby's promise?" Chaz let on. "Oh, so I guess Darryl told you about how he and Frank had been tranferred..." "To our office," Chaz Little picked up on, "for the purpose of being on alert, in case you should need some midday sexual stimulation?" "Yeah, well forget the coffee and donuts, then." "No, by all means, Brad... I mean Mr. Bigelow, I think Darryl needs that interaction." "You do, Chaz? But I thought you two had something going?" "We do. But hey, let's face it. We're not exactly lover material. Sure, we live together, but we're not evolving into a relationship like we both thought might eventually come to be. Yet, we have an understanding about things. Plus, he's very handy with a vacuum and dish cloth!" "Sorry to hear that, Chaz." "Don't be. Darryl's also got a nice tight ass, but my sights are set on a much more mature man." "Anybody I know?" We both laughed, then Chaz informed me that the donuts and coffee would arrive on time, promptly accompanied by Darryl. I strolled into my office. Like Bobby had seen the writing on the wall, I looked over my office that I've occupied for five years, as a temple. The frames on the walls, which I touched, as if they had an electric significance. A copy of my diploma, stating my qualifications to be deemed a graduate, my master's degree, a golden plague, stating how terrific a motivator I am, a few frames that stated the company's monetary endowments and then I flopped down in my swivel chair. Going through my desk draws, produced nothing out of the ordinary. That is, until I reached under the 'to do' book, which I hardly ever used, relying on my computer. 'Hmmm... forgot I had you there!' I said to myself, picking up the chain, with the moderately stimulating clips attached to it. "Am I disturbing you, sir?" 'Why can't people learn to knock before entering?' I said to myself, quickly letting the chain, the two little alligators attached, drop into the draw. "No, not at all, Chaz," I said, slamming the side draw shut. "I sent Darryl out for the donuts. He's real excited that you asked for him." "And you, Chaz?" "Brad... I mean Mr. Bigelow, like I said, there's no emotional attachment between us." "None, Chaz?" "I'm more like a mentor to him. Look, when we first met, Darryl had a lot of baggage to unload. Sure, we lay in bed while he told me his life story. He had an abusive life. A dad who hit the bottle, beat him regularly, poor grades in school, bullied. The kid lived through a regular hell." "I... I'm sorry. I didn't know that." "Doesn't matter Brad," Chaz didn't apologize, nor change back to the formal greeting, but continued, "what matters is you." "Me? What's makes me so special to Darryl?" "You were nice to him." "Nice?" "Yes. The day he and Frank came in here, you accepted him on his terms. Do you know what that meant to Darryl?" "I figured it meant that I was using him. Wasn't it Bobby that put the two up to it?" I didn't want to implicate Bobby, but I thought that's how it was. "Maybe Bobby did a little encouragement, but did you know that it was Darryl who came up with the idea?" "Darryl? You mean the idea of being on hand, in case I needed to be sexually serviced?" "Just for the record, Bradford, Bobby was against the idea, but Darryl pleaded with him." "But what about Frank?" "Frank was watching out for number one. Himself." "Hmm... didn't seem like it to me." "Of course. That's because Frank has changed and you have Bobby to thank for that." "Bobby?" "Sure. Bobby is remolding Frank into a man of value. He sees promise in Frank's future. Especially with this takeover on the verge of becoming reality." "So, you know about that, huh Chaz?" "It's tough not to know about your affairs, Brad. After all, I handle all of your business. I don't intend to read things, but I have to open all of your mail and..." "I know Chaz. There's no need for an apology. So, where do you see yourself in all of this takeover business?" "If you go, Brad, I go. It's as simple as that." "So, do you have any prospects for future employment?" "Yes. Bobby." I laughed, then acknowledged that Chaz would be a good asset to our business. "Bobby figured I would make a good senior secretary." "Nice of him to ask me!" I said sarcastically. "Oh, well if you don't agree, Brad, I'll decline the offer." "Not on your life, Chaz. I can't think of anyone more qualified for that position." A lull occurred, whereas Chaz began to excuse himself out of my office and back to some engaging activity. "Oh, Chaz?" "Yes, Mr. Bigelow?" He smiled at me. "When Darryl returns, have the elevator boy come in with him." "Juan?" "Yes. Um, put somebody else on elevator duty, will you?" "Will do, Mr. Bigelow." Bobby wasn't the only one that had a sixth sense about people. Juan's constant 'checking me out', in the elevator mirror drew me to some conclusions of my own. However, before some office 'play', I had to get some paperwork out of the way. Sitting down, I signed the contracts, not really bothering to analyse the cost of the projects. Nine out of ten times, I would get out my calculator and have the need to resubmit the bids, as being way over budget. However, with Bobby's predictions still fresh in my mind, I signed the lot of three or four hundred contracts faster than the Declaration of Independence. Next, on my agenda, I pulled on the green sheets Chaz had printed up on every union, hourly employee. "Chaz?" I called on my phone. After receiving confirmation of him listening, I requested, "I'd like you to send each of the male employees to my office, from the green sheets you presented to me, one at a time, beginning at one this afternoon." That's what I liked about Chaz. He didn't question me. Went right ahead with what I said. He also informed me that in five minutes Darryl would be in with the donuts. He said that Juan would be relieved of his elevator duties and that Bobby had suggested a replacement for him. I had questioned the replacement, being only temporary, but Bobby had more referred to it as Juan being transferred to our area, permanently. It caused me to wonder what Bobby saw in the nineteen year old elevator boy. "Come in Darryl." "I got some real fresh danish for you, Mr. Bigelow." Right after the 26yo set the bag out on my desk, the coffee staining the bag, he removed his sport's jacket. By the time I had emptied the danish and coffee out of the bag, Darryl had stripped down to his briefs and socks. "Hold it, Darryl." "Huh?" "Um, why don't you put your clothes back on?" "I thought I was supposed to come service you. Remember?" "I remember Darryl." "Like Bobby said. Remember?" "I remember, Darryl." "I don't want Bobby getting mad at me, so I think I better..." Darryl had his thumbs in the elastic of his lowrise briefs. "I know what Bobby said and he's not going to get mad at you, Darryl." "Have you thought something different? About putting that paper in my file, Mr. Bigelow?" "No, Darryl. Now, if you'll..." I was interrupted by my phone ringing. "Yes? Oh, Chaz.... yeah, well I'm not ready for Juan yet....Darryl? Give us a few, Chaz." After I hung up, Darryl confides in me, "Chaz is really a sweet man, isn't he?" "Yes, but Darryl, I want you to get dressed. I have somebody for you to meet." "Me? Who?" "Juan Delgado." "The guy in the elevator?" "You know him?" "Not really. I noticed him checking me out a coupla times." Darryl had reassembled himself. I got on the phone asked for Chaz to send Juan in. "I'm here, Mr. Bigelow," Juan said, nervously. "Good to see you," was all I could figure on saying, at first. "Um, Juan, this is Darryl Jennings." I was amazed at how polite the 19yo said to Darryl, "I'm very pleased to meet you Darryl," extending his hand most courteously. Darryl slowly stuck his hand out, taking Juan's and shaking it. "Um, well, I have to be out of the office for awhile. I should be back in a couple of hours," I informed them, getting up from my chair and grabbing my jacket. "Pardon me, Mr. Bigelow, but why did you want to see me?" Juan asked. "To meet Darryl," I simple said. Then, before quickly ducking out, I left them with, "See you in couple of hours. Behave yourselves, you hear?" With a wide grin, I left. "He fall for it?" "What on earth are you talking about Chaz?" I said to his insinuation. "Hmm... playing matchmaker, Brad?" "Chaz, are you busy this morning?" "Not after cancelling the board meeting til Friday. Frees 'us' up til around one. Why? Have something in mind?" "I thought maybe you and I could talk over the perspectives of your new job." "I could go for that." "By the way, have you seen Bobby this morning?" "He's downtown at motor vehicles." "Oh? Problem develop?" "Nothing that Bobby can't handle." "Got somebody that can sit here and waste a few hours answering the phone?" "I can drum up somebody." "Get on it then, Chaz. Time's awasting." I hung around while Chaz found a temp. The phone conversation was mighty interesting. "Hey, babe. Got a favor to ask of you.... what? Of course there's an extra bonus in it for you... okay babe. Come right up....no, not 'that' kind of up, but hey ya never know!" I quickly replied, after Chaz hung up, "Maybe I should've left you to your privacy?" "Nah." "I dunno, Chaz. I'm not certain, but detect something intimate between you and the guy on the other end?" "Josh? And me?" "C'mon now. Confess." "Okay. I met Josh when I had to go check out a snag in the mail room." "Yeah, and?" I pried. "So, I kind of liked the way he looked." "And?" "He's cute!" Talking about cute, I thought it cute the way Chaz handled our conversation, all smiles, as if he had an infatuation over Josh or something. A knock came at the door of the outer office. "Come in, Josh. This is Mr. Bigelow." "Wow! It's quite an honor to meet you, sir." "Nice to meet you, Josh." Not quite the picture I had of a match for Chaz, but he did have handsome features. I hadn't thought that Chaz, the 38yo standing at six feet tall and weighing around 190, would have an interest in a rounded, stocky guy. Thought, their ages didn't seem to vary much. "Mr. Bigelow and I are headed off to a business meeting, Josh. Think you can hold down the fort?" "Sure. No problem. Hey, is somebody in your office, Mr. Bigelow?" We all could hear some kind of noise, like that of somebody moving around. Chaz simply informed Josh, "Don't ask and don't tell and above all, Josh, don't go in there!" "Oh, I get it. Yeah. Okay. No problem," Josh replied, grinning. "We should be back by one," Chaz further dictated to Josh. "Strictly business, huh?" He made me blush, even though Chaz was able to keep his cool demeanor. "You're too nosy, Josh," He replied, now causing Josh to turn a red hue. "Later babe," he further replied, closing the door behind us. "My car, Brad?" "Sure, Chaz." We walked through the parking lot. It wouldn't be the first time I had extracurricular activities outside of work. I kind of got the same impression about Chaz, as he seemed to know where to drive. "The Summit okay, Brad?" "Sure," I replied, with the sense of guilt starting to come over me. "Chase okay with this?" "Um, I don't know." Chaz slammed on the brakes. "What do you mean you don't know, Bradford? Didn't you check with him?" "Um, no," I replied, sounding like a kid with his parent trying to get the truth out of him. "How come?" "How come what?" "Do you mean to tell me that you didn't clear this with Chase this morning?" "Um. No." "What kind of a fuckin' asshole are you, Bradford? Forget it. Man, you got me really ticked off!" "You, Chaz? What difference should it make to you?" "You know you're right, Brad?" I didn't understand it. First Chaz was ticked off and now he accepted what I did. First he was readying to make a u-turn, via the cloverleaf, but now continued on, towards the Summit Hotel. Arriving, we exited the car, as the valet tore away in it. "The bastard!" Chaz called the dust that stirred and the smell of the rubber tires burning. "He'll pay for that!" Chaz could sound like a nasty buzzard sometimes. I almost felt sorry for the young valet. Entering the hotel, Chaz secured us a room. He didn't say much as we ascended in the automated elevator, other than ridicule me about the insignificance of not informing Chase-baby about our little office 'interlude'. "I can't believe that you could be so crude, Bradford." "Well, it's okay. I'll tell Chase and he'll understand." "That's not the point, Bradford. No, not the point at all. In fact," he turned the key in the door and admitted us into the lavious suite, "I think you need to learn a lesson from this, Bradford." "Lesson?" I said turning, as he clicked the door closed. Turning, Chaz reached down. I didn't have any clue to why he bent over, but soon learned, as his fist made contact with my groin. "Uggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oooooh fuck!" I groaned, falling to my knees, both hands going to my bashed in balls. My hands pulled away from my crotch, as I felt my suit jacket being pulled back and down, locking me, as if in bondage. Next, two hands grabbed at the front of my shirt, heaving me upwards, by my muscled, 38yo secretary. "Yeah, gonna teach you a lesson boy... " "Chaz, c'mon... I...." "You think it's alright to abuse your relationship, well I think you really need to find out what it's like to be abused!" "No, Chaz... listen... ughhhhh!" His fist connected with my stomach, tucking it in tight, causing my body to heave over. His tightly clenched fist remained planted there, as if holding me up by the ab section. I groaned in pain. "I thought so!" Chaz made a discovery. Pushing my weakened body over on the bed, I lay out flat, except for my erection, which stood up straight, contrary to my reclining nature, my crotch bulging. "Let's see what we've got here, shall we?" "No, Chaz... C'mon now..." I couldn't move, my suit jacket still acting as a restraint. My knees conformed to the bottom curve of the bed, as he reached over and unbuckled my belt, followed by unbuttoning and then lowering the metal zipper. "Oh yeah... yeah... hot!" My opened zipper afforded my briefs some more expansion. In the long run, Chaz's efforts to release my pent up 9c, came about after he anchored my 2xist's under my balls. "First things first," Chaz said, pulling out his cellphone. I protested to no end, as he dialed. Then, I heard him say into the phone, "Hello, Bobby? Yeah, Chaz..." I couldn't hear anything further, as he stepped away, into the jon, I think. I couldn't imagine why he would be calling Bobby, but I could think of the result, especially after he explained to him about me not telling Chase-baby about our rendezvous this morning. Coming back into the main room, I heard him say, "Okay, Bobby. See you in a few." Then he clicked the cellphone in half and stashed it back into his jacket pocket, removing the jacket. "What did you tell Bobby?" "The truth of course and like me, he's steamed over what you did. But don't worry he says you'll pay for it after he gets here." "Bobby's coming here?" "In a half hour or so. But don't worry. He told me to have some fun with you until he gets here." One thing occurred to me, which I'm surprised I didn't think of before this. I could have wiggled out of my jacket and escaped whatever Chaz had in store for me. I think my cock was acting against me on that issue. I had come here, with all intentions of having some lite sex with Chaz, but now that the events have changed things, I felt more hornier than minutes ago, after we stepped into the room. I still could have escaped my bondage and done battle with Chaz, but instead, I remained in my suit jacket restraint and resolved to lying there, watching Chaz slowly strip down. I stayed rock hard, looking at the well developed pecs and abs, the light grazing of light brown hair across his chest and the very thin, defined trail separating his abs. His navel indentation rose about two inches above the elastic waistline. That is until he lowered his briefs, letting his hard shaft escape. His endowment didn't stop there. "Hmm.. I wonder if..." Going back to his suit jacket, he retrieved a little black book and his cellphone. Wallking away again, he proceeded to the jon for his call. I looked down. My cock still stood at attention. I wanted to rub it so bad. So, I did now, decided to wiggle out of my jacket. I did so, one handedly. My left hand shot to my cock. I stroked it up and down, slowly, throwing my head back. "Akkkkkkkkkkkkkk! Oooooh shit!" I screamed. Now holding my cock with both hands, my head pressed into the bed and squinting my eyes shut from the burst of pain. "Oh fuck I don't believe you did that, Chaz!" I told him, after he had swatted my cock with his black book. "Get your fuckin' hands away from your cock. Bobby and I own that now and you're not to touch it!" "Bobby? You? I think..." "What you think Bradford, is entirely besides the point!" I believed him. I mean, I could've at least made the effort to jump up from the bed and square off his jaw. But no, I listened to him dictate his authority over him. In reality I wanted Bobby to come crashing in that door, heaping mad at me and give me what's coming to me. I deserved it, knowing what I did to my Chase-baby. How could I have stooped to such lowness as to think about having sex with another man? "Where is he? Where is that son-of-a-bitch?" 'Uh-oh'! I said to myself, as I heard that familiar voice outside the suite. "We're in here, Bobby!" "You fuckin' bastard!" I thought to myself, 'why should Bobby be so angry at me?' It did seem like a valid question, so I asked it, "Why is this so important to you, Bobby?" "Why?" He almost seemed to growl, leaning on the bed, his knee squashing my balls. "Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkooooooooohhh!" This was beyond a friendly bdsm session. Bobby really hurt my balls! "You fuck, Brad! You want to fuck up your life, fine, but you're not going to fuck up Chase's too!" Chaz informs Bobby, "Gary and Greg are on their way, Bobby." "Good. Maybe they can straighten out this bastard!" "Who....who's Gary.... and Greg?" I could barely get out. "Bradford, I'm tired of putting up with your crap. You've got a damn good man and you're screwing him. I thought you would make a good business partner, but I see you're screwing with that. I'm giving you one more chance. After today, you better get your act together and focus, or you can take a hike and deal with the takeover." "What do you mean, Bobby?" Chaz says, "Just what it sounds like, Bradford." Bobby says to Chaz, "Your job's done, Chaz. C'mon let's get outta here before the boys arrive." "Job done?" I inquired of the two. Bobby hung around outside the bedroom, as Chaz went on to explain the setup. Soon, two other voices could be heard. Chaz slowly pulled himself together, putting his clothes back on, finessing his tie. "Too bad you decided to take it this far, Bradford, but you'll learn your lesson." "What do you mean Chaz? C'mon. Level with me!" At this moment I was scared shit. Especially after other voices could be heard, that of two men. The icing on the cake came, when I heard Bobby say, "Don't hurt him too bad. I want his balls still in good working order!" I pleaded once more with Chaz. Soon he left the room. I never saw Bobby again. Then it hit me, as two burly men walked in, one with a duffle bag over his shoulder. I didn't see this any longer as a get together of office mates, for sex, nor the humor in Bobby, nor Chaz's get even tactics. I got up from the bed, confronting the two. "Now, I'm going to walk through that door and neither of you are going to stop me. Got that right, gentlemen?" I spoke in my high exec lingo. "Not according to the money Bobby just paid us!" The older one, maybe in his mid forties, dictated to me. "Take him, Greg." The one, called Greg, rushed me. I wasn't without some type of boyhood fighting techniques. I swung at him, but he ducked. His fist came right up and into my stomach, as his other hand grabbed at my wrist. In no time he swung me around, wove his arms in between my arms and my torso, then lifted up. He held me in a full nelson, my abs now totally vulnerable and at the other guy's mercy. "Nice. Let's see what we got to work with here," the other guy said, dropping the rope he took out of the duffle bag. I looked down at the fortysomething year old thug, as he unraveled my tie and tossed it on the chair. Nicely, he undid the first two buttons of my dress shirt, but then took hold of it and ripped it down the front. Button's popped off and scattered all over the place. "Oh yeah... yeah... hot body... yeah, we're gonna have some fun with this, Greg. Yeah, nice hard abs to turn into mush!" Before I could hit them with another line of protests, the goon's fists busily worked over my abs. I don't know how many, maybe four punches and the one restraining me, Greg, turned me out, onto the bed, faced down. Both of my arms slid under me, going to my wasted stomach. Oh man did it ache! My hands didn't retain their freedom to waunder my hairy stomach for very long, as each pulled behind me, as they removed my shirt. Barebacked, they each grabbed hold of a wrist and attached a leather cuff. Then, like precision work, hauled my body up towards the top of the bed, an arm stretched out to each corner. Their hands made light work of fastening each leather cuff to a corner of the headboard. My aching, winded gut detracted from the thought of how they fastened the cuffs to the metal frame. Then, the sharp cutting of the leather into my wrists, as my captors pulled at my dress pants, removing them from my body, over my barefeet, then also doing the same with my briefs. Directly following, I felt leather cuffs being attached to my ankles, then my legs stretched far apart. Unlike my arms, they attached each cuff to a long pole. One that expanded twice as wide as the length of the foot of the bed. I thought I was going to break in half and it didn't exactly tickle. Then there was silence. % Continued..... Copyright 2005 Bradford D. Bigelow All Rights Reserved. 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