By Felon
So the two of us were stretched out on tables with lit taper candles inserted in our assholes. There was activity at the other end of the room, probably eating, drinking and card playing. I assumed the candle wax would eventually burn low, but I had to lay very still on the table. Looking down I noticed some new equipment laying on the floor, chains, which looked to be former truck snow chains, clamps of various sizes, oxygen tanks similar to the tanks firefighters wore while putting out fires. Electric drills (hmmmm).
The room was a rather large room with wood floors and some tiled floors like one would see in an old supermarket. The neighborhood seemed to be on the downside, and either the place was soundproofed, or there was little or no commercial traffic in the area. I had lost total track of their time, and these men all worked different shifts — coming and going etc. I was exhausted, and Probie One looked like he was as well. The cracking of the fire dept radio was ever present. Without warning, I could hear chairs moving and footsteps.
Continue reading The Firemans Union – Part 08 →
