By Joshua Ryan
Chapter 21: Spare the Rod and Spoil the Slappie
Then came the day when I returned to the housekeeping room on the fifth floor, and my hand couldn’t find the stash I’d hidden behind the wallboard. I knew I was in bad trouble. I was scared to even look at my other hiding places. At the end of my shift, I found Boss Derek waiting for me at his desk. Seated behind that old dinged-up piece of discarded furniture, wearing his brown slappie suit with his hotel tag dangling from his collar, he looked like a total putz, despite the distinguished haircut. But he also had total power.
“Found this,” he said, opening a drawer, pulling out a wad of cash and laying it on the desk.
“What’s that?” I said. It was just a formality. I knew I was caught.
“Don’t waste my time,” he said, putting the wad back in his drawer. I could imagine what was going to happen to that. That and all the other stuff he’d found, exactly where he knew it was. His snitches would have seen to that. It would be pointless to bring up all the bills I’d passed up the chain to him. He wouldn’t bother to deny it. It was clear that somewhere I’d crossed a line. No matter how much he’d made from me, I’d gotten too big. I’d have to be made small. And being a sadist is entertaining in itself. “Hit the Frame,” he said.
Lance is in bed, naked. The bed covers lay across the lower part of Lance’s body, leaving his chest exposed, as he listens to the rain falling on the roof. His uncovered arm moves from his side, sliding over the edge of the bed. On the floor is Sean, laying on his side facing away from the bed. The boy wears a thick two-inch leather collar, a pair of Lance’s lace-up Wesco Jobmaster boots, spiked leather codpiece and leather chest harness. His ankles are bound in leather restraints that are locked together. Leather restraints on Sean’s wrists keep his arms together before him.
