Date: Sun, 25 Sep 2005 08:46:14 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bradford Dean Bigelow <blockhead_54321@yahoo.com>
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.

       Permission is NOT granted to publish
       this story  to any PAY site, nor any
       site other than www.nifty.org, without
        the  author's prior consent.