It was my boss John. Lynn looked at me and smiled as she spoke. “Let me guess, it’s your boss John.” She said loudly above the music. “Who els...?” I answered somewhat nonchalantly. It was not unusual for John to call me at night. He is a workaholic who typically works 14 hours a day. The fact that it was after ten did not surprise me. I told Lynn I would be back in a bit. I had to leave the room since there was no way I could call him back and hear anything he had to say over the noise of the. . or maybe because of it. He wasn't sure of anything at thatmoment. With their words tormenting him, that phrase repeated over andover, his hand drifted toward his crotch. He voiced a final whimper ofhumiliation, took hold of his undersized penis, and began to stroke.The onlookers stopped chanting. They clapped. Madge wiggled her toesand he dipped his head down to capture those tender digits in hismouth. Hating himself for what he was doing but unable to stop, hesucked and stroked, sucked. More

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