Late at the office

Josef pushed his cleaning cart through the large open plan office. It was close to eight in the evening, he expected the place to be deserted. Josef did not like his job. It was boring and he felt exploited by the international accounting conglomerate. They made millions in profit each year, but he was on less than minimum wage, with no benefits. He couldn’t afford to get sick.

He paused emptying waste bins. Something was different that night. There was a light at the far end of the office, inside the glass cubicle where the section boss had his desk. Someone had forgotten to turn of the light, he supposed. Nobody was ever in the office this late.

Then he saw two figures. An older man who Josef assumed was the boss and a boy. Well, at Josef’s age, the thought of him as a “boy,” but he was in his late teens. Early twenties maybe.

The boss seemed to be angry. He was waving his hands about and gesticulating wildly. The boy must be one of the workers here, Josef thought. He was neatly dressed in a dark suit – gray or black, Josef couldn’t be sure from a distance. Welcome of the distraction, the old man paused from his work and sneaked a little nearer. He couldn’t get too close; he didn’t want to be discovered. In this firm, he might lose his job.

He couldn’t hear what the boss was saying, but by the look of the kid he was ripping him apart. The boss was a tall guy and maybe fifty years old. He was showing signs of age; balding and thickening round the waist. The boy was a little shorter than the old man and unlike so many youngsters Josef saw in the streets and on the subway, he was trim. He looked pretty fit from where Josef stood.

The boss said something that startled the boy. The kid was blushing bright red. Even from a distance, Josef could see that pretty clearly. The boy said something in return. Josef couldn’t be sure, but it looked like he might be pleading.

“Please, no.” Josef did not have perfect English, but even he could lip read what the kid was saying. “Please no, not that.” The boy seemed to shrink inside himself. “No, not that.”

The boss was stern. He said something back and Josef could see he meant it as the final word on the matter.

“Do it. Now!” The boss pointed to a low chair. The kid was blushing even harder now. He picked up the chair and took it into the centre of the room.

“Please, no.” He was begging his boss.

The boss turned his back on the boy and Josef couldn’t see his face, but he was sure he was still talking to the boy, because the boy very reluctantly started to unbutton his jacket and when he had done that he slipped it off his shoulders and laid it on the boss’s desk.

While he did this the boss was leaning over his desk and opening a drawer. Josef was as startled as the kid when he saw the boss holding what looked like a block of wood. It was like the chopping block that Josef’s wife had in her kitchen. But this one had holes drilled in it. The boss held it by a handle and waved it about in front of the kid’s face.

He said some more words and once again the boy seemed to be pleading.

Then something extraordinary happened. Josef had never seen anything like it before. His new country sure was a strange place.

The kid unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants and let them fall to his feet. Then he hitched his fingers inside the waist of his shorts and sent them south as well. Then, he lent across the back of the low chair and gripped the sponge seat cushion as if his life depended on it.

Josef was no stranger to spanking. Back in the home country it was quite common for loving fathers to punish their sons that way. Even if they were in their twenties. When they deserved it a heavy thick leather strap would be applied across their bare backsides. Good and hard. But, Josef thought in his new country such things were illegal. Schools didn’t beat the kids and parents had long since stopped spanking. That’s why, he supposed, there was so much disrespect and crime about. People were not taught how to behave.

He watched intrigued as the boss took up a position to the left of the kid and then he rubbed his big wooden paddle across his bare butt. Then he lifted it off, swung it back and landed it across both cheeks. Even at a distance Josef heard the resounding crack of wood against bare flesh. The glass wall was no barrier. He also heard the “Yowllll!” cry the kid made. He jumped up from the chair and rubbed himself furiously.

“Back down,” the boss waved his paddle at the chair. If looks could kill, the boss would be dead on the floor. The kid flashed him a look of total hatred. It made Josef smile. And, he had thought he and his people were the only ones exploited at the company.

Reluctantly, the boy resumed his position. His legs were parted by a couple of feet and his back was arched over the back of the chair. His dark untidy hair flopped over his eyes when he stared down at the seat cushion.

The second swat struck with terrific force. The kid tossed his head up and down and stamped his legs. It was a killer blow, but this time he managed to stay down. He huffed and he puffed, but he controlled the yell he really wanted to make.

The kid’s butt was bright red. Even from a distance, Josef could see the boy was getting his ass blistered. He wouldn’t be sitting comfortably for some considerable time.

The boss paused, put his paddle on the desk and delved into his pants pocket. He pulled out a handkerchief and used it to rub at his neck. He was perspiring freely. The boy raised his head a little to see what was going on, but jerked it back into position when the boss barked at him.

The boss picked up the paddle and without warning smashed two stinging swats into the boy’s bare butt. Bang. Bang. That produced a full-throated scream. Every nerve in the boy’s rear end burned. His face was now as crimson as his buttocks. He gripped the chair tightly and swayed his body left and right. Left and right.

It took supreme concentration for him to steady himself. Ready, submissive, for the next hammer blow. Josef moved a little closer. What had the kid done to deserve this? He could see tears flowing down the boy’s face. He was choking on his sobs. Josef began searching in his own jacket pocket.

Bang. Bang. Six swats in rapid succession, like machinegun fire, rained into the boy’s meaty butt. A banshee could not have screamed louder. His feet marched up and down his body shook violently, like a dog does when it comes out of a river. He coughed his guts up. Any second, a stream of vomit might fly across the office.

The boss looked to be in some distress himself. The armpits of his shirt were soaked in sweat. His own breathing was laboured. His face was almost as red as the boy’s. He croaked something. The boy stood up. He tuned and bent down to pick up his pants. Josef had a perfect view. The butt was scarlet, all over, except for the parts in the very centre of each cheek that had already turned purple. The image of the paddle was clearly visible around the edges of the buttocks.

The boy buttoned himself up. He was regaining some control now. He didn’t face his boss. He was too humiliated, Josef supposed.

It was time for the cleaner to make himself scarce. He switched off the video on his phone and pocketed it.

He had no idea what he had just witnessed, but there was one thing Josef did know. His video would be worth a goldmine.

 

Other stories you might like

The boys in the mailroom

Over the boss’s knee

Six of the best caning stories 5. The performance review

 

More stories from Charles Hamilton II are on the MMSA website

 

Charles Hamilton the Second

charleshamiltonthesecond@gmail.com