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THE SLOW DESTRUCTION OF JONATHAN - Part 15
They were each working in their cubicle when Jonathan looked up and there stood Ms. Harrison and once again she was not happy. It seems as though Mr. Miller had been reviewing sales records and noticed Jonathan's plummeting sales. He had also received three customer complaints about Jonathan and his unanswered emails and un-returned phone calls. In front of the other salesmen, which was extremely unprofessional, but she was too mad to think about it, she told him that he was done. She demanded his key card to the building and corporate gym, as well as his parking permit. He would receive his final paycheck and COBRA Insurance information in the mail. His email account and computer access would be shut down immediately. The stark reality hit Jonathan like a ton of bricks. He begged, he pleaded, but most of all he cried, like a grown man should never cry. Here was this beautiful young man, college athlete, and formerly one of the best-looking studs in town, reduced to a wailing little infant. He asked her to give him one more chance. He looked pitiful, and believe it or not, Ms. Harrison had a soft spot. Finally, she agreed to give him an hourly job on the loading dock, $10 dollars and hour, 30 hours a week. Jonathan did the math. $300/week. $15,600/year. A month ago, he was making $150,000 a year plus bonuses, and now he has hit rock bottom. How was he supposed to live on this? Plus, since it was less than 40 hours per week there were no benefits. No health insurance, no life insurance, no 401K, no profit sharing, nothing. Not even a parking space. Most of the guys on the loading dock didn't have cars. It was a sad day as Jonathan got up from his desk, and walked down the hallway towards the loading dock. He felt as if all eyes in the building were on him.
As instructed, he reported to Manuel, the supervisor. There were all macho male Latinos who worked for Manuel. They worked hard and took a lot of pride in their jobs. They were not happy to hear that this lazy gringo would be working with them. They took one look at him and laughed. He sported a buzzed haircut, earring, cheap suit and tie, wrinkled shirt and wearing jail house issued socks and sandals.
Manuel told him to hang his jacket and tie on the wall, he wouldn't be needing them. They would soon disappear. A large trailer had arrived and there were 3 men unloading it. Jonathan was told to go help them. They laughed at him, and talked about him in Spanish at every opportunity. They called him faggot, pussy boy, or whore, "Hey, maricon, move that box". Jonathan had never physically worked this hard in his life, and was working up a sweat. His baggy dress shirt got caught on one of the aluminum supports of the trailer and ripped up the side. The men laughed at him. His back pocket got caught on a hand truck and ripped it down the back. The men laughed some more. His rubber sandal got caught in a pallet and was pulled off his foot. He got down on his hands and knees looking for it, but it was nowhere to be found. They laughed louder. The men worked one side of the trailer all the way to the front, and started at the front to work their way back down the other side. One of the men instructed Jonathan to go up front in the clearing and start working those boxes. Jonathan eagerly complied. The way Jonathan was standing, he was hidden by the remaining boxes, and could not be seen from the dock. Two of the men walked up behind Jonathan, the third one kept a lookout. Jonathan was forced up against the boxes. A rag was shoved in his mouth before he could yell out. It was held in place by a bandana. A dark ski cap was pulled down over his eyes. His hands were tied together, pulled over his head and secured to the side of the trailer. He heard the unmistakable sound of a blade open and soon it was up against his ass, ripping the seat of his pants. He felt two hands reach in and tear the hole wide open. There was no underwear, so his ass was totally exposed. Each of them took their turn fucking him. He was spanked and beaten routinely, and then fucked again. The Latinos were having a ball. One of them got excited and ripped his shirt up the back and then shot his sperm all over Jonathan's head and back. The three men were thinking - maybe it wouldn't be so bad having a Gringo on the loading dock after all.
Jonathan crawled out of the trailer and onto the dock. He was one hot sloppy mess. He was sweating profusely, his ass was on fire, his knees were weak, and he had a bloody nose and sprained arm from the physical abuse. His clothes were shredded and torn. Manuel took one look at him and said, "Hey amigo, take it easy and pace yourself. You are working too hard". Manuel had no idea of the abuse that Jonathan has just endured. Jonathan sat down on the concrete floor and tried to catch his breath. He looked down at the floor and started sobbing. Why was he being treated like a man whore. He was not a faggot. He always liked girls. He had been a faithful husband and devoted son-in-law and didn't deserve this kind of treatment.
Manuel turned to Jonathan and said, "Have you heard the news, Mr. Jonathan"? Jonathan looked at Manuel quizzically and Manuel continued, "Senior Miller announced the new hefe' for the Sales Department this afternoon. You know him. He is the one that you hired". Jonathan wondered who that could be? Manuel continued, Mr. Alex, the new one. He could not believe the news. His head was spinning. How could this have happened? Last month Jonathan was a Vice-President of the company, and Alex was working in the back office. Now the roles were reversed, Alex was in HIS office and, Jonathan was working on the loading dock. This was too much to comprehend. He was feeling faint and weak. His world was crashing down around him.
Up front the champagne was flowing and there was a lot of back slapping when Mr. Miller made the announcement. After looking near and far, the best man was actually in house. Alex had quickly risen to the top as the company's number one salesman, and had outpaced everyone else consistently every month. Unfortunately, he had no idea what he was doing. He had to figure a way to get Jonathan back up front to do his work for him.
Jonathan was still sitting on the concrete floor when word arrived that he needed to get a mop, mop bucket, rubber gloves and cleaning supplies and scrub the executive washrooms. Jonathan did as he was told, and and in this disgraced state he slowly pushed the mop bucket down the hall, towards the bathrooms. His muscles were still strained from the beatings, his ass hole had been stretched, and his clothes were in shambles. Manuel found an old pair of tennis shoes next to the trash can and gave them to Jonathan to wear. His former co-worker's jaws dropped when they saw him walking down the hall. The formerly handsome young man that was Executive Vice President and member of the Board of Directors was now a janitor, pushing a mop bucket. Jonathan entered the mens room that he used to use as an executive and was now cleaning the toilets with a scrub brush and Ajax. After he scrubbed all the toilets and urinals he mopped the floor. He had never paid attention to the fine marble before. He cleaned the granite counter tops and polished the mirrors. He had to look away when he cleaned the mirrors, he could not stand to see himself like this. This job took an emotional toll on Jonathan. He still couldn't believe that he had to clean the bathrooms just to survive. All that expensive education gone to waste. Manuel came in and told him to take the cleaning supplies to the new Sales Manager's office and help get the office ready for the new manager. Jonathan knocked on the door of his old office and was told to enter and close the door behind. There was Alex standing in the middle of the room with a big smile on his face. The office was a mess. The furniture was askew, file drawers empty and left open and there was only a desk, chair and metal filing cabinet remaining in the room. The rest of the fine furnishings had been stripped from the office and moved to other parts of the building. It made Jonathan feel very sad to see his old office in this condition. Alex looked at Jonathan and said, "Boy you've had a rough day. You look like shit. What the hell happened"? Jonathan just shrugged it off and started preparing the mop and bucket for use. Alex screamed at him, "Bitch, have you forgotten something"? Jonathan thought for a minute and then it hit him. He slowly and methodically removed his tattered shirt, followed by the pants and then the socks and tennis shoes. He was completely naked. He got to work mopping the floor. He was on his hand and knees cleaning the base boards and trim. He moved the furniture back into its place. Alex just stood there and watched his every movement. Jonathan's hard work and dedication to this menial cleaning job was turning Alex on. His cock was starting to grow, and he was getting horny as hell. Alex who by now, was sitting in the chair said, "Get over here," in an almost loving way. He pulled Jonathan down and shoved his head in his lap. Jonathan eagerly went to work, kissing, worshipping and sucking Alex's throbbing cock. Alex put his head back and was loving life. He didn't even have to hold Jonathan's head when he shot his load down his throat. He took it all without losing a drop. Alex exhaled a big sigh of relief. He was completely satisfied. He had had a great day and was feeling on the top of the world.
Jonathan also felt good. He was in a comfortable place, a place that he was used to by now; and the place where he belonged. He was sitting on the floor at Alex's feet, he was bruised and battered. He had a split lip, and his ass had been stretched to new limits by the guys on the loading dock, and he sat quiet and in a daze. Alex almost seem concerned, "Bitch, what's wrong"? That was all it took. Jonathan opened up with all his heart. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of being used by other people. I am an educated executive who has won top awards. Why do people keep picking on me? I am not a fag, yet people keep insisting that I am. I do not deserve this. Jonathan was dangerously close to a state of depression. Alex pulled him close and lovingly stroked his head. "I know that you are not a fag. I don't know what's wrong with other people", he said. "But don't worry. That's why I am here. We are best friends now. I will protect you. No one will hurt you while I am around. That's why you need a strong Master like me, to help and guide you through life. You need me to satisfy your ex-wife and keep her happy, so she won't hurt you. You need me to protect you from others on the street who could hurt you. You just never knew it before." Even Alex couldn't believe the load of crap that was coming out of his mouth. He didn't give a shit about Jonathan, he was just using him for his personal needs. He only cared about himself. Jonathan thanked him profusely and felt a sudden sigh of relief. Alex had him right where he wanted him.
Alex told Jonathan that he would continue to train him to be "the best friend possible". He reminded him of the pictures that Julie had, and threatened to send to his friends and family. He would protect Jonathan from the people on the outside that tried to harm him, but there would have to be a few changes. Alex asked Jonathan if he was ready to start his new life? The once proud and masculine Jonathan was a shell of his former self. He agreed to everything with no complaints.
Alex had Jonathan quickly get dressed in what was left of his ragged and torn suit. Alex was tired of buying Jonathan shoes and told him from now on, he would not be wearing any shoes except at work. Otherwise he would be walking around barefooted. Jonathan knew not to ask any questions. Before he realized, they were back at the tattoo parlor. Once again, he signed the release without asking any questions. He did not know what work was going to be done. He was told to go into the back room and strip.
The artist came in and went to work. He inked "Property of Alex" on his left ass check and "Slave" on his other shoulder. When Jonathan squirmed, the artist slapped him hard across the face and told him to sit still. He treated Jonathan roughly and with no respect. He gave Jonathan a couple more piercings - in his other nipple, his lip and his right eyebrow. When the artist was finished he forced Jonathan to suck his dick. Jonathan, now an experienced cock sucker, was able to get the artist off and swallow the load in record time. Alex was watching and was pleased. Jonathan gingerly put his clothes on. He was not wearing shoes anymore. Alex reached in his pocket and pulled out custom engraved dog tags that read "owned property of Master Alex". He put them around Jonathan's neck. He produced a piece of chain link and padlock and put it around Jonathan's neck. He would wear these 24/7 and there would be no doubt to anyone, that Jonathan was an owned man. Alex had been trying to crush Jonathan's good looks and he was finally happy with his work. Now, Jonathan looked like a laborer from the loading dock or a punk on the street. He hadn't been eating regularly and was starting to look gaunt. There was no way that anyone could ever think of him as a successful sales executive. He looked like a man of the street.