Perhaps I should explain how Mitch came to be at my mercy. Well, my obsession…there I’ve said it, and I don’t feel any great sense of relief in my admission… was responsible for my worth to the firm plummeting. While Mitch was in ascendancy, I was very definitely in descendancy. I wasn’t bringing in enough business to justify my salary. I suspected that the meeting called for 11am Monday in the boardroom was to seal my dismissal.

I had, weeks earlier, in an attempt to ingratiate myself with upper management, suggested a weekend of company bonding at the Medieval Fair, a tacky theme park across the river in New Jersey, where families could dress in optional costume, play at imitation jousting, and indulge in other pursuits, such as wenching and wooing, eating copious amounts of baked and broiled meats in a draughty banquet hall and sleeping off the excesses of booze and bonhomie in bunkhouse accommodation. All included in the price of admission. The total came to considerably less than the cost of old man Cletus’s new Bentley.

Management had, of course, fled to the comfort of their own homes, family in tow, in the late afternoon of the first day. Once they disappeared, I could put my real plan into action. There was a possibility it would lead to my arrest and incarceration, but I was counting on the embarrassment factor working in my favor. Basically, I was past caring. With my dismissal imminent, I was unlikely to find another job in my area of expertise, so why not wreak revenge on my nemesis.

I had fabricated some small infraction of the theme park’s quaint rules, convened a court of Mitch’s equals, if there was such a thing, that I had stacked with people who disliked him or downright loathed his pretty tanned ass, thus ensuring he was sentenced to an hour in the stocks. They also decreed that he be stripped to his underwear for the duration. That decision met with enthusiastic applause from a few of his female colleagues who took the opportunity to grab a feel of his package, whistling in appreciation, after I locked him in. It was strictly against the rules of the theme park to lock anyone in the stocks but, hey, it was time to break a few rules, if not throw out the whole book.

As I walked away, leaving him at the mercy of the more brazen female staff members and the more vengeful male members, so to speak, I heard him cursing me and threatening dire retribution. When I returned two hours later, it was nearly dark, with most of the employees already at the banquet hall getting pissed. Mitch was screaming. “Let me out of here, you bastard! I’ll get you for this.”

Pulling my belt slowly through the loops of my trousers, I let Mitch see I was serious. When I’d finally extracted the length of leather, I doubled it over and smacked it against my open palm. The sound was worse than the sting.

Walking behind him, I caressed his firm, inviting cheeks before crashing the doubled belt down on his butt. He screamed, more in surprise than anything else. It left a vivid dark slash across his tanned skin. I raised the belt again and brought it down harder.