“We’re busy ... come back tomorrow.”Mr. Ott picked up the phone ... still at the point of a gun and dialed.“Hello, you old goat fucker,”“O... course it’s Bob ... who else knows?”“Good to hear your voice, too, Clarence.”“Clarence, we have a problem,”“There’s a youngster waving a gun in my face and he’s wearing a vest that claims he works for you.”“Certainly,” Robert said. “Your boss wants to speak to you.”He handed the phone to the gun toter.He wasn’t polite, “Bullshit!” He turned red in the face. ARE... GOING.... to BEAT.... THE.... BRAT.... OUT.... of you!!..."I then stopped talking to just spank his buns and the backs of his legs remorselessly all over again and again and again.I did not forget his inner thighs either where he is always so tender and really pound him so that when I am at last done with this stage of his chastisement the round firm little teenage buns and the backs of his legs were throbbing an angry shade of crimson and purple from his waist to just above his kneesHe. More

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