“Executive Retreat, Part 2: Dickie-boy On the Job” – by Steve McHalperin

Chapter 2 (Updated)

Update with Gary

Gary answered on the first ring.  “Hey, Dick, how are you doing, man?” he said cheerfully.

“I’m fuckin’ miserable,” I snorted.  “Everything hurts, including my ass.  And I’m scared shitless of this thing on my chest.  What’s up with you?”

“Yeah,” he laughed.  “I agree.  Everything hurts!  Did you get zapped yet?”

“Yes, first thing when I got to my apartment.  Dropped me to the floor, it did.  I was so depressed I got wasted and slept for a day,” I replied.  “Guess you got zapped, right?”

“Oh yes,” he said.  “My little remote torture thingy doesn’t shock me.  It crushes my balls until I’m on the floor screaming and crying at the same time.  Feels like my manhood is being squeezed out.”

“Ouch!,” I said.  “I remember you got fitted out with that cylinder thing on those big nuts of yours.”

“And then they ache for hours after they turn it off,” he added.  “I mean, it can drive you crazy, just waiting, not knowing.  Hey, how are you handling the morning hardon with that cage on your dick?”

“Not very well, I’m afraid,” I replied.  “Woke up screaming this morning from the pain.  What can I do about it?” I asked.

“Well, I had the same problem, but then I remembered:  take a quick cold shower.  That’ll short circuit the sex cycle and you dick’ll shrivel up again.”

“Interesting,” I replied.  “I’ll try it tomorrow.  Yeah, I guess it’s all part of their training program,” I said. 

“Training?  What do you mean training?” he asked.  “Training for what?”

“Mr. DieQual said something to me before I left.  He said there would be follow up to the weekend, I mean more than the remote devices.  I hate to put this so bluntly, man, but he said they want to make slaves out of us.”

“Slaves?!  Fuckin’ slaves?!” Gary exploded.

“Well, that’s the word he used,” I replied.  “Each of us will get some kind of special treatment from one of the execs.  I mean, like, for me, I’m under his personal direction.  I mean he’s my boss anyway.  He didn’t go into any specifics, but he did say each of us would get special treatment.  I have no idea what that means, trust me,” I added. 

“Well, mate, you can certainly guess!” he said loudly.  “More going naked, more pain, more abuse, more of everything they did to us already!  And I’ll probably get this ‘special treatment’ you called it, from my boss in the mailroom, Mr. Denning.  He’s the one who locked the ball crusher on me.  I was wondering why he looked so happy when he pressed his remote and showed me what the god damned thing could do to my nuts.”

“What about Ray, the other guy you work with?  Have you talked with him yet?” I asked.

“No, I haven’t,” Gary replied.  “You know, that would be a good idea.  See how he’s doing.”

“Even better, why don’t we go out for some drinks,” I offered.  “Drown our sorrows in some good whiskey and see what the fuck we can do about all this.”

“You’re on,” Gary said.  “I’ll call him and set it up.  Tonight OK by you?”

“Yup,” I said, eager to see my two compatriots in pain.  “Let’s go to The Rustler over in Baytown.”

“Got it,” he said.  “Seven tonight!  Unless my balls get crushed again.  Ha!” he replied.

I was a bit relieved to hear some humor from him, even though it was dark humor.  How in the hell are we going to stay sane if the three of us are going to be trained to be friggin’ slaves???



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