Enraged I sidled up to Johns and hissed in his ear.
“That piece of shit .. he’ll not get away with that.”
Outwardly you’d never notice. But Johns was shaken. Johns was too disciplined to show it. Inwardly he trembled, though.
“We’ll not let him. Not in your world, not in mine.”
With every thought my anger against that RAT hardened. He was out of control. An animal. A wild animal.
“Get away with that? We’ll not let him.”
Guaranteed. I assured
my friend. Johns was still emotionally
in turmoil, I could see. Thrown by the
ferocity. I pitied him. Scared after that attack. Understandably.
“Just think of what THAT deserves …..”
It needed more than words to shake Johns out of his trauma. That brute would have throttled him! Terrifying. That brute was muscular, he was strong. Outweighed, out-muscled Johns .. by far. But the over-muscled punk did not out-witted him, no match for us, John’s and me .. the dream team when it came to keeping RATs and scum where they belonged.
“When you get your hands on the brute ….. What you are going to make him suffer ….”
More than words .. what Johns needed was hope. That over-muscled feral stud .. for all his posturing .. he’d met his beefy match in us.
Johns’ throat burned, with some sympathy I watched him touch the shameful handgrip there scorching to his pride. He’d escaped serious damage luckily. But he HAD been shown up. In public. The RAT Captain up in the air, off his feet, being strangled. Put to shame in front of the whole School. That feral RAT .. we wouldn’t let him get away with that.
“You see the way he was looking at you. That piece of RATSHIT! We’ll get him, you and me. Make the bastard suffer.”
Such fucking arrogance. So full of himself. That muscle head .. in his full naked glory .. jutting it out like some rutting beast .. as if that said anything about being a man .. except it was a wild animal that knew no control.
I felt for Johns, he had been out-manoeuvred at the very
moment that Johns had HIM humiliated, mortified. A public hard-on, pumped up with nerves and
Johns’ control even yanking the strings on his cock. Hard with fear at the forty strokes of the
strap he was going to get on his bare arse.
Then, with animal cunning .. ambushing Johns with feral brutish strength .. the wild beast had turned the tables .. overturned the apple-cart .. strangling his superior. No way could any RAT get away with that.
A treacherous animal like that certainly couldn’t be allowed
to get away with it.
“We’ll get the fucker. Promise you.”
I gripped Johns assuring about the shoulders. He was badly shaken. He needed that helping hand. Attacked just when Johns had him. Forty-odd lashes. Going to break him. Put that peacock muscle-head in his place ….. bottom of the shit-pile. Where he belonged. Show him up. Break down. Sob. Beg. For all his over-preening conceitedness in that ripped physique.
But the punk had ambushed Johns. A mad dog, he’d gone and attacked his superior. The wild beast had seized the upper hand. By brute strength. A type like that .. let him get away with something like that .. all discipline went out of the window. He had to get it. In the neck. In the gut. In the balls. Johns and me, we’d see him break.