Date: Sun, 02 Jul 2006 11:28:57 +0100
From: Nigel Dean <takemypantsoff@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Marcus Gains promotion

MARCUS GAINS PROMOTION
By Pants  takemypantsoff@hotmail.co.uk

Hi guys:  I hope you enjoy my little story.  Please feel free to drop me a
line or add me to your MSN and I'll let you know about some of the other
stories I have written.
Pants

Anger and a dozen supporting emotions burst through me.  I had been bitterly
let down, let down by someone I considered special.

"Get him a taxi and get him out of here !"  I ordered with a note of venom
in my voice before going into my own office and slamming the door shut with
such force that everything within a range of forty feet rattled.

My anger was so clear for all to see that nobody said anything and nobody
dared to venture after me.  "Sod you Marcus !"

Before the death of my uncle I had been following a successful career as a
school teacher, a career I was moderately content with and one where I had
gained early promotion to become a housemaster in a large comprehensive
school.   Today the politically correct would say it was a challenging
school, back then we would say it was bloody tough !

On my appointment as head of house a colleague offered me some advice:
"Discipline is like the choke on an old fashioned car, not enough and the
engine won't start -- too much and it stalls."

Marcus had been one of he boys in my house, a likeable youth of sixteen with
fair to good examination prospects and absolutely no idea what he wanted to
do with his life.  That had been five years, almost six, ago and now he
worked for me in my business.

My uncle had built up a highly successful car sales company.  He wasn't the
usual car salesman who talked more bullshit than could be found on the
cattle trail of the Wild West, he sold only second hand prestige vehicles
and classic cars from decades gone by.  If you wanted an Aston Martin DB5 or
a Ferrari Testarossa then his was the place to go.  When he died for some
reason I never understood he left it all to me.

I expanded the business importing old Ford Thunderbirds and Chevrolet
Impala's from America then in return exporting to them such classics as the
Morris Traveller and MG sports cars.  The company achieved a world-wide
reputation and banked to my personal account ten times that I earned each
month as a humble school teacher.

I took Marcus on as a salesman and he had undoubtedly contributed
significantly to my business success.  His youthful, pretty boy looks were
popular with clients both male and female.  The ladies fell in love with him
and it was as if male customers felt they could emulate Marcus's charm and
good looks by buying a car from him.  You may think that we did not get that
many lady clients but there was never a shortage of the rich and famous
looking for something special as a gift for the husband or boyfriend.  It
was indeed to a lady buyer that Marcus had recently sold no fewer than ten
vehicles to be used in a movie classic set in the 1970's.  I had used Marcus
in my advertising campaign, his face appearing in glossy magazines and trade
press.  Now I was going to have to let Marcus go, to sack him, to fire him.
I had no choice, there was no alternative.

"Sod you Marcus !"

I didn't emerge from my office for the rest of the day and when all of the
staff left at six I locked up and stayed inside.  Tomorrow when Marcus came
in I would fire him.  If he didn't dare show his face I would call him and
do it over the phone.  I was determined and nothing would change my mind !

So angry was I that I wasn't in any hurry to go home and would probably
remain in the office fuming with anger all night.  Then the telephone rang.
It was my private direct line.  Picking up the phone I listened to Marcus's
voice.

"You're working late, I thought you would be.  I know you're going to sack
me so can I come in now and get it over with ?"

"Yes !" I snapped and slammed down the receiver.

Marcus must have been calling from the public phone box just down the road
for in moments he used his key to let himself into the showroom.  I'd have
that key back before he left.

Marcus smiled a little nervously but his eyes twinkled as they met mine.  I
refused to soften and drew breath in order to launch forth but Marcus held
up his hands in an act of submission.  I hesitated.  I shouldn't have done
that for with it I lost the initiative.  He had changed from the way he had
been just a few hours previously, now sober he was back to his every inch a
pretty boy.  He wasn't dressed in his usual salesman attire but casually in
jeans, trainers and open neck shirt.

"What would you have done if a boy at school had returned drunk after lunch
?"  Marcus asked.

"We're not at school now !" I replied curtly but before I could continue
Marcus again held up his hands.

"I'll tell you what you would have done," he continued.  "You'd have
slippered him.  No questions asked and no excuses accepted.  I have no
excuse, no excuse at all, for coming into work drunk this afternoon."

He paused as he kicked off his right trainer, picked it up and held it out
across the desk to me.  Instinctively I took it from him.

"I think what ever else you decide," Marcus continued, "that you sold
slipper me now."

Initially the idea was preposterous but it did have some possibilities.  As
his suggestion played about in my brain I felt my dick start to harden.  In
my previous teaching career I had spanked the backsides of many a naughty
boy using a tennis shoe known as "The Slipper".  The duty went with the job
and I thought nothing of it, it gave me neither pleasure nor displeasure and
certainly there was never the remotest thought of anything sexual about it.
But looking then at Marcus and considering his proposal I felt different.

"You never slippered me at school did you ?"  Marcus said removing the other
shoe.

"No," I replied quietly.  My mouth was dry and the words croaked out.

"I think six of the best are called for,"  Marcus smiled, "and on a bare
arse."

He began to unbutton his shirt exposing a perfectly formed chest with toned
muscles in faultless place and proportion.  His fingers then attended to the
belt on his jeans which fell to the floor.  As he stepped out of them I
noticed how he had not been wearing any socks.  My mind pondered this
inconsequential yet strange fact at the same time thinking what a beautiful
young man he was.  It would be a shame to bruise that beauty by slippering
him but I would do it.  Yes I would do it.  Marcus deserved it and for the
first time ever I was going to enjoy giving out punishment.

The rumbling in my underpants had turned to a full explosion.  I stood
carefully behind the desk trying to hide the predicament.  Marcus was
smiling but I hoped he had not registered my thoughts or observed my
dilemma.  Time for me then moved into slow motion while for Marcus it
proceeded at its normal pace of sixty seconds to the minute.  I was hence
able to extend the period and look fully at my young colleague.  God he was
beautiful, an artist's Adonis turned into flesh.  I rolled my eyes over
every inch of that exposed flesh and speculated at that still concealed
behind a pair of incredibly tight white briefs.  My eyes focused on those
briefs regarding a thick line of manhood stretching the tight material.

"Ready ?" Marcus said before hooking his fingers into the waistband of the
briefs and hauling them down to hang at his knees.

My heart increased its already frantic drumbeat as it saw two low-hanging
balls below a thick uncut cock.  Marcus gave me time to take in the view
then leaned forward and braced himself over the edge of my desk.  I took up
the trainer and weighed it in my right hand before crossing to stand behind
him.  At the sight of his two peach-like bums cheeks I had to strain in
order to prevent my cock from exploding.  I wanted to reach out and stroke
such delicious beauty but summonsed every fibre of resistance to stand firm.
  There was a job to be done and I must not shirk my duty.

I never kept a count of the naughty adolescent behinds I had addressed with
my slipper at school.  They were of no consequence and long since forgotten,
a job to be done and got rid of as quickly as possible.  But this was a
slippering I would take my time over and it would be one I would enjoy not
only in that moment but also within the archive of my memory for a long
while to come.

Being right handed there is a natural tendency to bring the slipper down on
the right cheek where a maximum impact and resulting pain can be achieved.
If ever I had cause to give a lad a single whack this was the manner in
which it would be applied.  Usually a boy's crime would merit two whacks and
for the second, by pushing the wrist hard back just before the moment of
impact, the slipper would fall on the left buttock.  Two whacks would hence
be given, one on each cheek.  It is possible, providing the slipper being
used is large enough in proportion o the backside of its application, to lay
a stroke simultaneously across both cheeks. To do this initial aim is made
for the right cheek but as the slipper is brought down with force both rapid
and hard it is moved with a lesser momentum from right to left. If the
timing is correct the impact will slide across the behind and impact a
stinging contact with both buttocks.

I rested the trainer on Marcus's rear end as I considered my options and
planned the combination of stroked I would apply.  Marcus tensed his naked
body to take his punishment.  His buttocks instinctively pinched together
leaving a dimple on each side.

Slowly I raised my arm high above and behind my head, I leaned back slightly
then pushed my body forward to add momentum as the slipper sped through the
air.  It landed square on its target of Marcus's right buttock sending an
almighty crack echoing about the office. Never before had I used such force
and Marcus was taking it bare arse, god it must have hurt him.  He tensed
and gasped audibly for air but did not cry out.

Part of the art of slippering is to get the strokes in as quickly as
possible so the pain level can be increased with each whack and not allowing
the victim to experience any fall off from one before the next hits him.  My
arm immediately raised back and my body taking up the needed stance number
two began its descent towards that beautiful pretty boy behind.  This time I
twisted my wrist and applied the stroke to the left buttock.  I looked to
see any sign of bruising or reddening of the flesh but the two strokes had
been delivered in just a few seconds without time yet for the body to react
to its attack.

Slippering at school was always delivered to a trousered behind and it never
crossed my mind what the lad's cheeks would look like when my skilful work
was concluded. When I had been a boy at school myself there was one
particularly vicious PE teacher who would order a boy to drop his shorts
before receiving a whacking.  He was universally hated and no member of his
class would have thought to do anything other than radiate sympathy towards
his sorry victim and never stare to see what mark the slipper may make.  But
standing over Marcus I willed the results of the two strokes I had applied
to show themselves.

Numbers three and four I had decided to apply to the right cheek and to lay
them directly on top of where number one had hit.  As the second stroke had
struck pain to the left buttock that surging through the right would soon
start to fade ever so slightly.  By applying two more to the exact spot it
would flare up like embers attacked with hot air from bellows.

When the third stroke cracked down on Marcus faint beads of sweat began to
form on his back and his breathing became rapid and loud yet still he did
not cry out.  I have known sixteen year olds cry out as the pain surged
trough them and even the toughest would have been shedding tears had they
received the punishment I was now giving to Marcus.

After the fourth I wondered if I should stop but no I would continue to the
end.

Marcus's whole body would have been racked with pain so the method used for
the final two strokes would have done little to change the acceleration of
hurt they could inflict.  I had decided to see if I had lost any of my skill
and to see if I could still apply the most difficult stroke by laying the
slipper on both cheeks at the same time.  I had not lost the skill and
allowed the slipper to remain in place for a moment after its fifth shot in
order to appreciate just how accurate my aim had been.

I felt a sense of disappointment that the next stroke I would apply would be
the last, number six of six of the best. I would have liked to continue but
any such thoughts were out of the question, few could have taken the degree
of punishment Marcus had and his crime probably did not merit even this
level.  I considered also what would happen after the final stroke.  At
school the slippered boy would leave without too much ado and everyone get
on with their daily tasks, the punishment soon forgotten in my mind and for
the boy probably also forgotten as soon as his behind stopped stinging.  But
here I would be left with a beautiful, naked Marcus -- my friend and
employee.  Of one thing I was certain, he would remain my employee -- I had
no intention now of sacking him, and I hoped he would also remain my friend.

The punishment finished with an expertly placed sixth whack landing exactly
across the two buttocks where number five had struck.  My heart pounded
inside my chest and I realised it wasn't only the sound of Marcus's
breathing I could hear but also that of my own.  Marcus did not move for a
moment, just a few seconds but they felt like hours.  I wanted to speak but
did not know what to say.  I waited for a reaction from Marcus but nothing
came.  I don't know why but I flung the slipper across the room, it struck
the water cooler and fell to the floor. Come on Marcus say something.

Slowly, ever so slowly Marcus pushed himself up from the desk and visibly
winced in pain as the contour of his backside changed.  He turned and I
looked into his face using a sixth sense to transmit to him the inner
emotions I was feeling.  That face was white and showed pain yet smiled and
then his eyes twinkled their usual sparkle and I knew all was well.  He
reached his arms about me and embraced his former school teacher.  I had
only looked at his face, I had not regarded the rest of his body but now I
felt his rock hard cock press against me.  Even though my clothing Marcus
would have been able to feel my own which had remained erect and throbbing
throughout the entire slippering.

Marcus whispered into my ear. "Thanks" he said.

He released his hold on me but as his arms unfolded themselves he took my
right hand and placed it on top of his hot, erect cock.  My head fell back
and I gasped with delight.  As I enjoyed the truly magnificent feeling
Marcus took the tie from about my neck and unbuttoned my shirt.  His hands
moved to drop my trousers.  What was happening ?  What ever it was it was
wonderful.

"Are you still planning to sack me ?"

"No,"  I stammered.  "No way."

Marcus was on his knees kneeling in front of me  my trousers and briefs were
gone and my cock quivering towards him.

"Thank you," he smiled. "Can I see if I can persuade you to give me a
promotion ?"

"Of course."

Marcus was given his promotion, it was well and truly deserved, but that's
another story.  Perhaps one day I'll tell it to you.

Copyright Pants 2006 -- takemypantsoff@hotmail.co.uk


Well there you go I hope you enjoyed my story, please feel free to contact
me.  Drop me an e-mail or add me to your MSN and I'll tell you about some of
the other stories I have written.  I hope I can look forward to hearing from
you.
Pants