George Smith sat uncomfortably in his manager's office waiting for him. Although the room was air-conditioned, he was sweating.
His manager, James, had called him in just as he was about to leave for the day. George had told him that he had to go home to his wife Barbara, but James said that this was 'something quite worrying' and 'something serious', and that it 'would be in his best interests to stay'. George acted puzzled, but he knew exactly what was going on.
It had all started about 6 months ago... George had had a little 'fling' with another woman, nothing much, just a couple of one-night stands. Maybe if Barbara had shown him some affection during the past twenty six years of marriage that would have helped. Anyway, Barbara had found out and had vowed to leave... except George had begged her to stay. Luckily for George, she didn't leave him, which was good as he didn't fancy losing half the house and probably most of his wages paying the old cow. Of course, this meant he was stuck back in a boring life, separate bedrooms, and no sex.
Barbara had then decided that due to George's indiscretion, she would have control of the bank account and the credit cards, which was fine, but all the lazy bitch did was shop, eat and drink... and the spending was getting worse. By now she was a full blown drunk spendaholic and wouldn't let George anywhere near her. Not that he cared now, he felt like strangling the fat old bitch but knew he wouldn't get away with it.
Unfortunately, this meant that George had run up some big bills paying for all the shit Barbara was buying. So, to try and keep things stable, he had done some 'creative accounting' at work. Nothing major, just setting up a little account to siphon off some of the monies that were coming in every day. He thought he had done quite well in keeping it a secret, and he no longer was getting final demands through the postbox every other day.
And then James had called him into his office.
James had just turned 40, athletically built, good at his job. George on the other hand... well, he was 59, greying (well, the little bit of hair he had left anyway), overweight (he probably outweighed James by 65 pounds),... and had been found out.
So here he sat, sweating in his suit and tie, waiting for James to return.
James opened the door and entered the room, closing it behind him. George gulped.
"So, I've been doing some investigations, and... " James started.
"Look, I'm sorry," George interrupted. "I needed the money, please, don't call the police."
"I'm not going to call the police George," replied James. "Well, maybe not..."
"I'll pay the money back, James, I promise."
"Don't worry, I can make it disappear, so you'll never have to worry about it being discovered again." James smiled at George. "You just have to do something for me first."
"Anything, James, what do you want?"
James smiled again, and George couldn't swear but he thought the way he was looking at him was... strange. "How's your wife, Barbara?" he asked.
"Ummm, she's OK I suppose." George replied. He wondered where this was going.
"Give her a call, tell her you will be working late with me."
"But..."
"Just do it George." James replied, sharply. "If she gives you any shit, pass it to me."
So George pulled his mobile out of his jacket that he had placed onto the back of the chair he was sat on, and called his wife. And yes, she gave him some shit, so George handed the phone to James, who then told her that George would be needing to work late tonight and would be back quite late indeed. James switched the phone off handed the phone back to George, who was now embarrassed.
"Good." said James. "Now, she doesn't... how can I put this... do you have a fulfilling relationship?"
"Ummm..." George began, wondering if he should tell James that it was none of his business.
"Come on, George, you can tell me. Do you have sex with your wife... anymore?"
"Uhh... no. Not for a while. Personal things, you know." he blushed.
"Poor old George." James was smiling again. "What if I told you that you would have some sex tonight? A good hard fuck, no questions?"
George blushed and crossed his legs. Although he hadn't used it in 6 months, his cock was getting hard at the thought of some no-strings sex. He wondered who it would be with. Perhaps James knew some fancy ladies... though he didn't recall if James had a girlfriend or not...
"Sounds OK, I think..."
"That's my Boy. Stand up." James said, his tone of voice changing slightly.
"What?" George replied.
"Stand up, let me see you properly." James repeated.
"I don't understand, James..." George said.
"Listen, you decided you were going to steal from the bank, and I am offering you a way out. You just have to do whatever the hell I say, not matter what. So stand up so I can check you out."
"Check me out?" said George, slowly getting to his feet.
"Sir..."
"I beg your pardon?" George said, unsure of what was about to happen.
"You will address me as Sir from now on, at the end of every sentence you speak. If you don't... you will be punished." James had now got to his feet and was moving towards the older man.
"What's going on... uh Sir?" George uttered.
"You, Boy, are going to be my fat piggy bitch for the evening. I told you that you would have some sex tonight, and you will. At the end of my cock."
George nearly fell backwards onto the chair. "I'm sorry, but I'm not that way-"
"Shut the fuck up, Pig. The alternative is I call the police and you get arrested and charged with fraud and theft, which is a good prison sentence. I imagine you would end up being some fucker's bitch in prison, maybe more than one, so I suggest you take up my offer."
George stood in silence as James smiled again.
"Besides, you might like it."
"I... I..."
I like your big fat belly, George, and your bushy moustache, gets me nice and turned on. Do you have a hairy chest?"
"I...yes, uh yes Sir." George replied, in disbelief at what he just said. Was he really agreeing to have sex with this man?
James moved round to behind George.
"Nice arse, nice and plump..."
George felt James's hand on his backside, squeezing, groping, fondling.
"Ever been spanked, Boy?"
George blushed again.
SLAP!
James slapped George hard on his backside.
"I asked you a question, Boy."
"Not sure, Sir..." George wanted to push James away, but he didn't dare.
"I think you need some training Boy, so it's a good thing your fat old wife doesn't see you naked anymore, cos I am going to make your ass nice and red tonight."
"Please...please...Sir" George started, then he stopped as he realised that his cock was getting stiff.
"I see you like the thought of that, Boy" James said as he reached forward and grabbed at George's cock through the material of his trousers. "Maybe if you're good I'll let you wank yourself off."
"Sir, I..."
"You can thank me later Boy, now put your arms behind your back." James ordered, and slapped George on his ass again.
George swallowed hard and did as he was told, unsure of what was going to happen.
Click-click-click.
He felt something cold and hard lock around one wrist, and then the other. James had handcuffed him !
James moved to the chair behind where George was standing and picked up George's jacket, which he placed over the older man's wrists. It now appeared that George was holding his jacker behind him.
"That's better, you need to get used to being restrained. Pity I can't do anything to disguise your erection. Oh well, never mind. Let's get you back to my place so you can show me how sorry you are for stealing that money."
"But Sir, what about security?" George asked, knowing that the bank's CCTV and security guards would be watching them leave.
"We're going in my car, which is not covered by the CCTV. Just relax, you're with me and we're going out. If you mention what's going on, I'll call the police... or maybe I'll make you suck off the security team, I've heard they all took turns with Chantelle at the Xmas party so they'll fuck anything with a pulse.."
George recoiled at the thought of the security guards with their dicks out, as he knelt there sucking them... yuk !
James and George had left the building and got into James' Porsche Cayenne 4x4, George still handcuffed. James had strapped the seatbelt around George's hefty frame and then took out his hankerchief, which he stuffed fully into the older man's mouth. And so, James drove George back to his home, gagged and restrained, his legs spread wide as he had been ordered, James' left hand clamped onto George's swollen crotch, squeezing and squeezing. George could feel the material of his underwear getting damp...
James manoeuvred George out of the Porsche and into his house, which was set in very private secluded grounds. After unlocking the front door and unsetting the alarm, James led George in, using his necktie as a leash. He made him spit out the spit-soaked handkerchief into the kitchen sink, and then led him upstairs to one of the bedrooms.
"I think you need a spanking now." said James, grinning.
"Yes... um... yes Sir." humbly replied George. He wondered if he said no, what would happen. He wished he could get his hands free.
James stopped and moved a footstool from the wall to about a foot from the end of the bed.
"Bend over that, Boy, and spread 'em." He ordered.
George knelt down on one knee, cautious of not being able to protect himself if he fell, then shuffled to the footstool and bent over it, spreading his legs as he had been told. He wondered if he just took the spanking, then maybe James would let him off the rest. He hoped.
James walked to a cupboard and removed something made out of leather and shaped like a cricket bat. He then sat down on the edge of the bed, so that he was now perpendicular to the helpless older man.
"Now, you can cry out as much as you like, nobody will hear you."
"Please, Sir... I..."
"Count the strokes, Boy, and thank me for giving them to you, otherwise I'll start from the beginning. How does twelve sound?"
Twelve ! Thought George, wondering if he could stand that many.
"I think that's too many Sir." replied George sincerely.
"Well, you are now getting eighteen for being a wimp. You are getting these fully clothed, so be thankful I don't strip you naked. Then it will really sting !"
"But Sir !" George began.
"Don't make me increase it any more, Pig." said James firmly. George kept his mouth shut.
WHACK !
George gritted his teeth as the leather made contact with his ass. He remembered what he needed to do.
"One Sir. Thank you, Sir."
WHACK !
"Two Sir, Thank you, Sir."
WHACK !
Three Sir, Thank you Sir."
WHACK !
On and on it went, George blushing at having to thank James for spanking his fat ass, the pain getting greater and greater...
WHACK !
WHACK !
WHACK !
Finally, after what seemed like ages, he reached 18 strokes.
"Eighteen Sir, Thank you, Sir..."
"I think you should thank me properly Pig." James said. George didn't like being called a pig.
"Sir...?"
"Get over here and suck my cock, Pig. Otherwise you'll get another eighteen."
"Yes Sir..." said George as he lifted himself off the footstool and waddled towards his manager, who had unzipped his flies and removed his cock. It glistened in the light as it stood there, oozing pre-cum out of the piss-slit. George's own cock twitched at the sight, still hard and trapped in his own underwear. He stopped and stared at it, shuddering at the thought of taking another man's penis in his mouth.
"It won't suck itself Boy."
George closed his eyes and opened wide, then leaned forward.
TO BE CONTINUED.