By Slavebladeboi
The gates closed behind me as I drove onto the road. What the fuck had I just done? The obvious answer was spinning round inside my head, I’d just about broken every protocol of my job. I’d ignored the rules about admissions, invoices, data, official forms, getting personal with clients and especially getting personal with subjects. But who couldn’t get personal with this subject? I looked into the rear view mirror and saw those two luscious brown eyes looking back at me. Yeah, I know. I’m a sucker for eyes, delicious young boy eyes with long dark lashes that I just want to put my tongue round and kiss.
Of course, what I should have done is arrange for the official van to collect him like any other admission. Then two thugs would arrive in their solid, heavy, high black leather boots, full leather gear and MX style biker crash helmets with dark goggles and face protectors, night sticks in their belts and obvious muscles under it all. They would pull out the stretcher, it was really a simple steel grid the size and shape of a stretcher only more convenient for fixing someone to and more hygienic.
