Monday, 11 September 2017
The Sting of the City (Part 2)
Continuing the Sting of the Jungle Series
It was early Friday evening and most of the staff at the brokerage firm where Boy now worked had left for the weekend. Usually Boy would have been one of the first out the door, keen to spend his wages, rent money, and undisclosed additional income in the clubs and bars of the Upper West Side, enjoying the company of the scantily clad girls and women who always crowed around him due to his good looks and lavish spending habits.
However, this Friday Boy had stayed late in the office, he had received a mysterious memo instructing him to attend a special out of hours meeting on the executive floor. Boy was curious to know what the meeting was about, and why he had been invited. Arrogantly, and with a startling lack of self awareness, he wondered if he was in line for a promotion or bonus. Although, in truth, his standard of work could hardly warrant a reward of any sort.
Had he been so tardy and careless with his chores back in the jungle, Tarzan would certainly have toasted his little bottom, however, nothing like that was going to happen in the city, or so Boy thought.
Just before six thirty boy took the elevator to the 18th floor, the executive floor, where the meeting was due to take place, he glanced at himself in the mirror, and was pleased he looked so hot and handsome in his new, black, designer suit.
When he was in the jungle, Boy had no interest in his appearance, but since he had been in the city, and discovered how women responded to his handsome looks, he had added personal vanity to his long list of character flaws.
He smiled to himself, confident that his appearance would impress the bosses he was about to meet with.
What Boy did not know, was that all the company executives were attending a weekend team building seminar in Colorado, and the executive floor was, therefore, unoccupied that evening.
When the elevator arrived on the 18th Floor, Boy made his way to the office where he had been told the meeting was to be held. Expecting the room to be full of company bosses, he knocked on the door rather than walking straight in.
“Come in” said a strangely familiar voice.
Boy entered the room and to his surprise, instead of seeing a room full of a room full of company executives and bosses, as he had been expecting, the only people there were, as he would put it, “that weedy Marc Temple guy from the office and the Polish faggot from IT”.
Boy was angry, he had stayed late in the office on a Friday hoping for a reward or promotion, not to have a meeting with two insignificant jerks. “What do you morons want?” he sneered.
“Ah Guy!” smiled Marc “Thanks for accepting our invitation, we have something we would like to show you.”
“Can't it wait until Monday? I have plans!”
“I think you will want to see this now” replied Kam, pointing at a computer screen.
Making no effort to hide his irritation Boy stomped across the room, and looked at the monitor Kam was indicating. At first the jumble of data made no sense, but then as what he was looking at began to become clear an icy chill ran down the handsome blonde lad's spine.
The data Kam was showing him detailed each time Boy had secretly syphoned funds from the company account and paid them into his own bank account. He had thought he had been so clever, by only diverting small amounts each time, but Kam's report had highlighted every time he had done it.
“That's quite an amount you have been stealing from the company Guy” grinned Kam, “Just under $30,000 in two months, …. you being so greedy made it easier to spot”
“I would guess that would be worth about five years in prison!” said Marc, unable to hide the glee in his voice “Probably more given your betrayal of trust!”
“Prison won't be fun!” murmured Kam “What with you being such a pretty boy and all!” he laughed “Your little butt will get screwed by every con in the joint!”
Boy was stunned, he couldn't believe that his genius plan had been so easily detected. His initial reaction was that this was some sort of shake down, and he began calculation how much of his ill gotten gains he could offer these grinning fags to keep them quiet. The evidence was to clear to deny, so he had to make a deal.
“Okay, okay Guys!” he snapped, furious at being caught out, whilst trying and failing to sound reasonable “how much do you want?”
“We don't want your money Guy” replied Marc “We want your butt!”
“Fuck off!” Boy almost snarled “I'm not like that!”
“We don't want to fuck you fella'! … well, maybe another time” laughed Kam “Right now we are going to spank you!”
Boy stepped backward, as if struck, those were words he had hoped never to hear again. “No chance you ….. you … fuck!!” he stammered “That's not happening!”
“Either we spank you, or you are going to jail Guy!” sneered Marc
“Where all the cons will be after you as their bitch!” added Kam
“Guys … guys … lets be reasonable about this!” said a now very nervous boy.
“Drop your pants!” relied Marc picking up a wooden ruler from the desk, and sitting down on a conveniently paced chair next to a desk overlooking Central Park “and then get over my knee!”
Boy could see from Marc's expression that he was deadly serious, that ruler looked as if it had the potential to inflict a lot of pain, but there didn't seem any way of avoiding being spanked with it. To his horror he saw that Kam was holding a rubber soled carpet slipper, which he had clearly brought with him for the purpose of spanking Boy's butt. Tarzan had once spanked him with an old slipper, and he knew how much they could sting.
Reluctantly Boy unbuttoned his suit pants and let them slip down to his knees.
“And your underpants!” ordered Marc “drop them now”
Marc and Kam looked on in barely concealed delight, as the now very miserable Boy pushed his thumbs into the waistband of his white cotton underpants and slowly lowered them, exposing his cock and balls as he did so.
Marc's sadistic instincts were conflicted, whilst being impressed by the size of Boys equipment, he had secretly hoped this blond hunk would have a small cock which would add to the humiliation of its exposure, yet, at the same time he relished the prospect of belittling and punishing such a perfect, and well proportioned, specimen as the beautiful young man, now standing before him with his underpants around his knees.
“Now get over my knee!” he snapped
“You can go over mine next!” laughed Kam, smacking the slipper against the palm of his hand.
“You bastards will pay for this!” snarled Boy as, knowing he had no other option but to obey, he shuffled angrily towards the sneering Marc, and laying face down across his knee.
The two men then took it in turn to spank Boy's bare and, as ever, very tender, bottom.
First Marc gave him twenty four swinging swat with his wooden ruler, as Boy struggled and kicked over his lad, and Kam stood watching.
Kam then took Marc's place and began whacking Boy with the rubber soled slipper, as Marc watched, laughing and calling out encouragement as he did so.
Boy was seething with anger, he had left the jungle to escape from Tarzan and the thousand different creatures which kept hurting his bare bottom, and now here he was on the 18th floor of a New York skyscraper, 4,000 miles from the jungle, getting his bare butt spanked by two sniggering gay boys!!
After he had finished spanking Boy with the Slipper, Kam followed by Marc gave Boy a firm hand spanking, which, in both cases, culminated in a rapid fire series of fast hard slaps to reinforce the message.
Throughout the ordeal Boy was ordered to remove various items of clothing, until at the end he stood totally naked before them clutching his sore and well spanked bottom.
He had hoped that, by escaping to the city he would never have a sore bottom again, how wrong could he be?!!
“Have you done?” he mumbled knowing, despite the growing fury in side him that he now had no chance of regaining any dignity in front of these two.
“Done?” echoed Kam “Have we done?” the note of mockery in his voice so obvious that Boy's initial, and barely controlled impulse was to knock his teeth down his throat.
“No Guy” smiled Marc, “We haven't 'done' … not close!”
“W...what …. but you just spanked my ass!”
“One little spanking, won't cover what you've done!” he paused to enjoy the pleasure of watching the horror spread across Boy's handsome face “We plan to spank you whenever, we feel like it, wherever we decide to, and with whatever we chose!”
“And” added Kam “I think we are going to feel like it quite often!”
“No! You can't do that …..!!” spluttered Boy
“Your choice fella'” Replied Kam with a shrug “Either you take the spankings, or you are going to prison!”
Of course, Boy had no option gut to submit to the couple's demands, and over the next week he would receive at least on text or e-mail from Marc or Kam instructing him to either stay late after work or meet them in some unoccupied room within the office, such as one of the the basement stock rooms, where he would receive yet another stinging spanking.
Within days boy's behind was so well spanked and sore that the sting never faded, and he literally could not sit down without discomfort.
By the following Friday evening, as Boy lay face down on his bed trying to cool down his burning bottom with fans and ice cubes he knew he was going to have to take drastic action to bring this situation to an end.
Boy's bad luck had followed him across the ocean, he was being blackmailed by two men with genuinely sadistic instincts, and limited compassion. The guys were clearly enjoying their sadistic pleasures and also having such extensive power over him. He knew they would not stop and that if he didn't obey their orders they would make good their threat, and enjoy doing it.
His only option was to stop them, permanently.
Despite the gun laws in New York, it had proved very easy for Boy to obtain a gun. Even though he had only been in the country for a short time, he had made some very shady acquaintances, including people happy to supply him with a weapon and not ask any questions.
Therefore, early the following Sunday morning, when he guessed that Marc and Kam would still be in bed, he made his way to their down town apartment, with a gun in his hand and murder on his mind.
TO BE CONTINUED .......