The imposing shadow loomed over Benji blocking out the lights from the stage.



"I asked you a question," a deep voice said.



There were no other sounds in the club. The loud dance music had been turned off a while ago. There was only the clinking of dishes coming from the kitchen.



20 year old college student Benji knew someone was speaking to him, but the voice seemed a mile away and three stories above him. His head was swimming. His heart was beating so loud it seemed to block out everything else.



He raised his head and strained his eyes to see the man who standing over him. He could barely make out any discernible features. All Benji knew was the man was big and tall and black.



"Hey kid! Did you hear me?" the deep voice asked again.



The shadowy shaped snapped a finger in Benji's face and that woke him from his distracted state.



"I'm talking to you," the man said, stepping around the table.



Benji could see the big man's face now.



The man was tall and at that moment seemed ten feet tall and not his actual 6'5. He was bald but had a beard which was neatly trimmed. He was handsome. Not that him being handsome was something Benji noticed. The man's thick, muscular arms were folded across his broad chest. He wore a dress shirt which was tight against the man sculpted body. His slacks were tight and there was a considerable bulge between his thick, powerful legs. Again, not that he was incredibly hung was something Benji had noticed.



Again the man's voice seemed to fade. The voices in Benji's mind were drowning it out as he tried to piece together the fragments of the evening's events. It had all started so innocently.



Six guys from school had invited him out for an evening of fun at the local strip club. A guy's night out, they had said. Drinks, girls stripping and adventure was what they had promised. In a pathetic attempt to fit in, to be one of the guys, Benji had accepted their invitation excitedly.



He had no idea the evening would end like it had. He couldn't believe his friends could have done this to him. Actually calling the six guys he'd been partying with all night 'friends' was a stretch. A big stretch.



Benji knew all of them from a few classes at the local college they all attended. Mostly though he knew them because he was the assistant to the football team's manager and they were all players.



To them Benji had always been just the guy, the pathetic little loser, who recorded the team's stats and other menial jobs.



When Benji wasn't bookkeeping, he was in the locker room picking up after the players. He gathered their wet towels and sweaty jockstraps and did the laundry. When there were away games he booked hotel rooms and made restaurant reservations for them and the coaches.



He was the nerd who cleaned up after them. He was the sissy who stared at them in the locker room and did whatever they told him to do.



It was odd they'd asked him to join him but Benji wanted so badly to be one of them he didn't question their motives.



He had always been an easy target for bullies. At 5'5 and 126 pounds Benji wasn't exactly a man's man. The jocks always teased him and called him things like 'fag' and 'sissy.'



It didn't help that Benji's hair was long and almost came to his shoulders. He was also cute, maybe, some would say, too cute for a guy. His fair complexion, small build and longish hair made him an easy target. Especially for dumb jocks without too much imagination.



When he walked through the locker room, the players would throw their sweaty jockstraps at him and snap his butt with their wet towels. They'd call him 'Sweetie' and 'Sugar.' They were merciless.



They told him that if he really wanted to be a good assistant to the manager he would suck their cocks. Then they would grab their cocks and shake them at him. They were relentless in their teasing.



One time one of the players threw a pair of panties at Benji. The panties belonged to his girlfriend or sister. It didn't matter. They were pink and satiny and landed right on Benji's head.



Yet with all he'd been through, knowing who these jocks were, Benji still didn't think twice when they asked him to join them in an adventure at The Velvet Pussycat, a local gentleman's club.



The present came crashing back with another finger snap.



Benji swallowed hard and looked up at the large man now standing across from him.



He stammered his answer, "I did hear, you, Sir. I'm sorry."



Benji's voice cracked a little and his answer sounded more like a squeak.



"Damn right you're sorry. Sitting there looking at me like you forgot how to talk."



Benji's bottom lip trembled as he tried to speak.



"Well?" the 6'5 black man asked, "Do you have the money to cover this bill?"



Benji looked down at the bill lying on the table. It was the fourth time he'd stared at the numbers next to the word 'total.' His hands shook as he held the long receipt.



The numbers hadn't changed. They were still the same.



$3647.00



$3647.00?! How did this happen?



"Janelle said she presented you with the check and you just stared at her and mumbled something about no money."



Bits of the evening were starting to come back to Benji.



From all appearances it had been a great night. The guys picked Benji up from his small apartment he rented off campus. They had told him not to worry about anything. They'd told him the evening was 'on them' as a thank you for all his hard work for the team.



They had all gone to the club together in Demetrius' SUV. Benji sat in the back with Chad and Todd, wedged tightly between their muscular bodies, smelling their thick cologne and slight traces of alcohol. Mikey had offered him a hit or two off of a joint. He had taken it gladly and, having never smoked before, could feel the effects almost immediately.



Once at the club they had gotten a table right near the stage. The dancers paid special attention to them because they were football players. They seemed to be ignoring Benji on purpose. Dre and Demetrius had even gone to the Champagne Room for private dances.



The six of them had ordered drinks and appetizers and bought drinks for girls sitting at the bar.



Benji sat quietly and went along for the wild ride.



He was actually enjoying him. He felt like he'd turned a corner with the jocks who'd teased and tortured him for so long. It seemed like they were all actually bonding. He felt like one of them.



He wasn't though and would never be.



When the check was dropped onto the table at closing, all six of them had disappeared, sticking Benji with the enormous bill.



Was that their plan along? Was he the victim of some mean-spirited prank? It seemed to be so. And now the manager of the club was demanding payment.



Benji's mind raced but it was hard to think clearly. Mostly because of the few drinks that had been 'bought for him' by the guys. Partly because of the little bit of weed he'd smoked. He'd never know it, but there was also a tiny bit of GHB Chad had slipped into the strawberry daiquiri he'd ordered for Benji. The jerks all laughed as Benji sipped the sweet, drug-laden froufrou drink through a pink straw.



Aside from being a little drunk and high, Benji was also scared to death. The large black man standing over him was demanding almost $4000 from him and his patience seemed to be waning. His dark brow was furrowed and his intense hazel eyes seemed to be burning a hole through Benji.



Benji had $12 in crumbled bills in his pocket and his credit card was back at the dorm. Not that it would have done him any good. There was less than a hundred dollars on it.



"I don't have-"



The large black man interrupted him, "WHAT was that? Were you about to say you don't have the money to pay your bill? Because I don't think that's what you want to be telling me."



"There were seven of us," Benji stammered, "We'd all been drinking and-"



"I don't see six other guys. I just see YOU and a bill for almost $4000."



"I know. I know, Sir. I don't know where-I don't why they would," Benji said with his head lowered.



He knew exactly why they'd left. The whole evening had been a set up. They were assholes. They'd always been assholes. Why should this evening had been any different? Why would he have thought they'd changed and were actually accepting him into their world.



Benji thought about all the times they'd teased him and called him names.



He had just wanted to fit in and be one of the cool guys, even for just one night. He'd fooled himself in believing they'd changed and were welcoming the small, nerdy guy, the faggot, into their world.



And now Benji was on the hook for almost $4000 and the owner of the club had reached his boiling point.



"I guess I have to call the police," he said, his muscular arms folded across his broad chest.



"OH GOD! PLEASE! DON'T DO THAT!" Benji pleaded.



"Why? Why wouldn't I? You might as well be stealing from me."



"I'm not-"



"Do you have $3647?"



"No, sir. I have $12."



The man scoffed, "$12?? Well, I'd say you're a little short, aren't you? By about $3635."



"Yessir," Benji squeaked.



"Credit card?"



"No, Sir. I-"



"What's you name?"



"Benji."



"Well, Benji, what do you expect me to do here?" the man asked as he sat down across from Benji. Even sitting down he was taller than the petite college boy.



"You come in my establishment, drink my liquor, dance with my girls, ring up a huge big bill and now you just want to leave. Does that sound right to you?"



Benji shook his head.



"You think I should just let you leave?"



Again Benji just shook his head.



"I asked you a question."



"No?"



"No? Are you asking me?"



"No."



"Sir."



"No sir. I don't think you should just let me leave."



"Then tell me, Benji, what do you think I should do about this? With you? What would you do if you were in my shoes?"



Benji thought for a second.



"I could work it off."



"Work it off?," the large man scoffed, "You mean like wash dishes?"



"Sure, I could do that," Benji said with a smile thinking the suggestion hinted there might actually be a light at the end of the dark tunnel he currently found himself in.



"$4000 worth of dirty dishes?"



Benji's heart sank.



"That's a lot of dishes. But," the man paused as a thought came to him.



He looked at the trembling college boy sitting across from him. He wasn't like many of his patrons. He was small, petite almost. He had a fair complexion and one might say delicate features. He had big blue eyes and soft lips and his mousey brown hair nearly touched his shoulders.



"Maybe...just maybe," Darryl Powers thought to himself.



"Anything!" Benji said excitedly.



"Maybe we can work something out."



"Anything! I'll do anything," Benji said.



"Be careful what you wish for Benji," the man said as he stood, once again blocking the work lights from the stage.



Benji's mind raced. Anything was better than jail and possible expulsion and the shame he would bring to his family.



"Anything huh?' the man said as he walked around the table, landing behind Benji's chair.



He felt the man grab the back of the chair and then start to pull it backwards.



"Stand up and come with me," he said in that deep voice.



Benji stood and found himself directly in front of the man.



Darryl Powers was an ex-football player himself. He still worked out and his body reflected the hours he spent in the gym. He had thick arms and a broad chest. He had thick thighs and his tights pants revealed a muscular ass and a large cock which seemed to be straining against the material of his slacks. He was bald but had a neatly trimmed beard.



Benji looked like a child next to him. He'd always been small and no matter the amount of time he spent at the gym, he just couldn't seem to pack on any real muscle. He had looked like he was 15 since he was 15. Standing in front of a muscular man who stood 6'5 didn't change that fact.



"I'm Darryl Powers. This is my club. You will call me Mr. Powers or 'Sir.' Understand?"



"Yes, Mr. Powers, Sir," Benji said nervously.



Mr. Powers put a finger under Benji's chin and lifted his head until their eyes met.



"Anything, huh?"



Nervously Benji answered, "Yes, Sir."



Mr. Powers looked down at the small college student standing in front of him.



"Damn. You sure you're old enough to be in here?"



"Yessir," Benji said, "I'm 20."



"Small for your age, huh?"



Benji nodded.



Then the man said something strange.



"Small but cute."



Gulp.



Mr. Powers continued his inspection of the college boy presently shaking in his shoes in front of him. Then he did something weird. He put his hands on Benji's shoulders and turned him around slowly, checking out his entire body.



"Yes. Very cute indeed."



Benji didn't know how to respond so he just thanked the man.



"I think I have a solution to our current situation...your little problem. Come with me."



He extended his hand. Benji stared at it for a second and then he slipped his hand into it. Mr. Powers closed his hand over it and began to lead Benji towards the left side of the stage. Benji followed along like an obedient child not knowing what was about to happen.



The two of them came to a door. Overhead was a sign that read PRIVATE. Mr. Powers opened the door and took a step forward. When Benji hesitated, Mr. Powers barked at him.



"NOW! One foot in front of the other! C'mon!"



He pulled Benji into the office.



Benji almost tripped into Mr. Powers who was holding the door open for him. Benji tried to slide past him in the doorway but it was a tight squeeze and his body ended up pressed against the large black man's. He felt how solid and powerful Mr. Powers was and suddenly felt very small.



Mr. Powers gave Benji's bottom a swat to hurry him along.



Benji now found himself in Mr. Powers' private office. It smelled of cigar, cologne and something else.



He watched as the powerful man sat himself behind his large desk. When Benji went to sit down in the chair across from him, Mr. Powers stopped him.



"No. You stay standing. I want to look at you."



"Look at me?" Benji asked his whole body trembling.



"Shhhhh," Mr. Powers said, "I want you to stand there and not say a word. Can you do that?"



Benji nodded.



"Put your hair behind your ears."



"My hair?"



"Yes, brush your hair back behind your ears. Now."



Benji brushed his hair away from his face and pushed it behind his ears.



Mr. Powers smiled. He apparently approved.



"Yes, indeed. Very nice. Very doable," he said as one hand slid down to the front of his slacks.



"Doable?" Benji asked.



"Did I say you could speak?" Mr. Powers snapped.



Benji shook his head.



Mr. Powers pushed his chair away from his desk and walked over to a leather couch against the far wall. He sat down onto it. His eyes never left Benji.



"Turn and look at me," he said as he poured himself a scotch from a bottle which was on the table next to the couch. He took a swig and then another. His eyes never left Benji. He looked at him long and hard. Well, semi-hard that is.



Benji noticed the poster on the wall above the couch. At first he thought the model in the poster was one of the girls who danced at the club. He studied the photo as Mr. Powers studied him.



The model had long legs and a slender body. She was kinda flat-chested and her tight pink shirt showed her large areola and erect nipples. She had short hair and wet, shiny pink lips which were pursed in a sexy kiss. She seemed to be looking right at Benji.



When Benji first looked at the poster he had to do a double take because he thought it was a photo of a pretty boy in pink short shorts. It couldn't have been because the model was way too pretty to be a boy. And then there were those pretty eyes, those pink lips, those long legs...there...was just no way. Was there?



Then Mr. Powers spoke and Benji once again made eye contact with the large, black man sitting across the room. The two stared at each other.



"I've been trying to come up with some solution for your situation, Benji. I think I have one."



He took a sip of bourbon.



"Oh thank God," Benji thought to himself.



"First though, I need to teach you a lesson."



"A lesson?"



"Yes," Mr. Powers said as he sat up on the edge of the couch. He patted his right leg.



Benji knew what Mr. Powers wanted but he played dumb anyway. Stupid move really.



"I don't know-"



"Come over here. I need to teach you a lesson. I want you to come over here and lay yourself across my lap. I'm going to give you what all bad boys deserve."



"A lesson? Your lap?" Benji stammered.



Did Mr. Powers really expect him to walk over to him, drape himself across his lap and allow himself to be...spanked? Like a naughty little boy?



"Yes. A lesson. One you won't forget," he said with a stern look on his face.



Benji hesitated.



"Don't make me come over there and get you," Mr. Powers said, the muscles in his muscular arms tensing.



Benji walked closer to the man on the couch and when he was close enough, Mr. Powers grabbed his thin wrist and pulled him down and across his lap.



Benji lay there across those muscular thighs, his bottom raised slightly, shaking.



"But you can't" was all he managed to get out before Mr. Powers delivered a harsh blow to his butt.



It stung and Benji yelped aloud.



"No, this won't do at all," Mr. Powers said.



Benji thought for a second Mr. Powers had changed his mind and was going to let him get up.



"I can't spank you through those pants. Take them off."



"Off?"



"YES! OFF!" Mr. Powers said delivering another hard spank to Benji's bottom.



Benji slid himself off of Mr. Powers' lap.



He undid his belt and then his trembling fingers unzipped his jeans and he began to slide them down his legs. He was going too slowly though and Mr. Powers grabbed the jeans and yanked them down. They bunched around Benji's feet he and he kicked off his shoes. Then he stepped out of his jeans and slid them aside.



Now he was standing between Mr. Powers muscular legs in just his polo shirt and his white cotton underpants.



Mr. Powers grabbed his hand again and pulled Benji down and across his lap. He looked down at the quivering college boy's ass covered in a pair of thin cotton underpants. He rubbed his hand sideways across Benji's pale white cheeks, feeling the cotton and the trembling skin underneath.



Then he grabbed the material and yanked it up between Benji's cheeks which were now a bright pink from the first couple of spanks.



"NO! PLEASE! NOT THAT!"



"ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TELLING ME WHAT TO DO?!"



Mr. Powers held the underwear up into Benji's crack and smiled as he saw the boy's pale cheeks trembling. Then he began to rain down a series of swats which soon had Benji crying and squirming on his lap. He held him tight though until he was finished and the sobbing boy's cheeks were red.



When he was done Mr. Powers helped Benji stand. The well-spanked boy's legs were shaking and his bottom lip was quivering like a 5 year old's.



He put his hands on those slender hips and held Benji still.



Benji's bottom hurt so bad. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been spanked.



The cool air in the office was sharp contrast to the hear coming from his red cheeks.



He reached behind and pulled his underpants from his crack. Tears rolled down his cheeks. His face was as red as his bottom.



He wished the spanking he'd just received would be the end of his ordeal. He was humiliated and hurt. If he could walk, which he doubted because of the pain, he just wanted to leave.



Benji's humiliation was just starting however.



"Well, I was gonna say I hope you learned your lesson, but I don't think that spanking had the affect on you I wanted it to," Mr. Powers said with a smirk.

