chairman of the board

halelikehell  asked:

I loved your teacher!AU - pretty please maybe write headcanons about it? Like who is the teacher of what and so on. 😍

  • okay, so easy school has cycled through a hell of principals. first it was Mr. Sobel, who staff and students alike hated. eventually the staff went to the teacher’s union and got him fired. he was replaced by Mr. Meehan, who was transferred to another school after just a few weeks. so, in the chaos, Vice-principal Winters took over and he’s been running things ever since.
  • Nixon is the new VP. he’s constantly hungover; by the end of the day, he always smells a little like booze. this man should probably not be working in a school. his father is chairman of the school board, so that could explain how he’s still got a job. he’s also damn good at running things from behind the scenes. when they need to interrogate kids on a discipline matter, they send in Nixon.
  • Liebgott and Webster are both english teachers, as stated, and they’re at each other’s throats pretty much constantly, even after they start dating. literary insults abound. most of the school ships them. the students have started an instagram page just for them, where they post pictures of their boards everyday and snapshots of the two together. Vice Principal Nixon follows it.
  • Speirs and Lip are both history teachers. Speirs teaches ancient civilizations, and Lip focuses on current events (and psychology). it seems like they shouldn’t get along, but oddly enough they work of each other well. they go over their curriculum notes together, grade papers with each other, and sometimes even teach joint classes if their subjects parallel each other. no one else really gets how the nicest teacher in school is friends with the one who allegedly threw a kid out a window, but Speirs and Lip make it work.
  • Guarnere is the librarian, and Babe is the college student who volunteers to help out at his old high school for community service credits. babe has no clue what he’s doing. since Bill (who the kids have universally nicknamed “Gonorrhea”) runs his library like a CIA databank, he goes crazy finding books where they shouldn’t be and is always instructing Babe on how he’s doing things wrong. even so, he’s a good boss. the kids like Babe a little better than Bill, because he’s super friendly and willing to help them find whatever book they need.
  • one day, an entire bookshelf falls on top of Babe’s head. this is how school nurse Roe meets him, and comes to the immediate conclusion that this is the most helpless creature he’s ever seen and that he needs to protect him. so babe winds up helping in the nurse’s office whenever he’s not in the library. he’s not complaining, of course, because that means extra credits for him, and he gets to work alongside the cool and quiet Doc Roe.
  • Malarkey, Skip, and Penk totally run the cafeteria, and they’re universally adored. Malarkey helps kids pick out their food when they can’t decide what they want. Penk is always trying to get healthier choices on the menu, and encourages the kids to have fresh fruits. Skip is always giving kids free meals if they can’t afford them; more than once he’s even paid out of his own pocket.
  • Johnny Martin is the janitor. kids are terrified of him, but he does his job damn well. he’s constantly bitches about having to clean the cafeteria and bathrooms (because high school kids are so excellent at keeping everything clean). god help any kids that he catches purposefully making messes.
  • Perconte is the school dentist, because of course he is. (does every school have a dentist?? my elementary, middle, and high schools all did.)
  • Harry is the school guidance counselors, and his office is about the most cheerful place in the whole school. he has a bunch of stress toys for kids to play with and is such a listening ear that everybody loves him.
  • Buck is the math teacher who coaches football in his spare time. his room has trophies and sports memorabilia everywhere. he also has his own bookshelf, because he’s a prolific reader, and if he likes a kid he’ll let them borrow some of his books.
  • Joe Toye teaches chemistry, and somehow things are always catching on fire in his classroom. he really likes explosions – it’s not his fault. he’s strict, and has no patience for idiots, but he makes chemistry easy and fun for the kids who want to learn.
  • finally, Luz is right there as the school secretary. he answers phone calls, fields annoying parents, helps kids who are confused about their schedules, and has a witty comment for whoever he talks to. everybody loves him.

Hello, everyone. It’s been a while since I last posted anything. I’ve been working on the story for several weeks, but I wouldn’t finish it without my dear petal, @little-black-dress-24. It all happened thanks to your idea, your patience with me constantly tormenting you to read this stuff. So, huge thank you, E. And E, I’m really sorry for my dramatic, aesthetic, perfectionist ass. Luv yeh. xx

I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Feel free to comment, share or at least like, if you fancy my work. 

Harry is a lawyer and he is faced with the challenge of cooperating with his new boss. The boss turns out to be a beautiful woman. 
Word count: 9,500-ish

You were sitting in a comfortable armchair with a cappuccino in a white coffee cup, right in front of you on a coffee table. You took a deeper breath from time to time to relax your tense body. You weren’t scared but you were nervous, in a good way. Finally, you achieved one of your career goals. You applied for your dream job in one of the best prospering law companies in the UK. You were determined to achieve your goal and so it happened. You were the first and the youngest woman to become a CEO in the company.

It was your first day and you were waiting for one of the Board Members to officially introduce you to the team. Your head was full of ideas on how to expand and develop the company. You were very excited about the job to a point where you couldn’t sleep at night because you were so full of energy and excitement for the new things to come.

You looked at a golden chain watch on your wrist and realised you should have been called inside about 10 minutes ago. You were tapping your fingers on your knees in excitement when you heard a man shouting in the office you were about to enter in the next couple of minutes.

‘You promised me this job and you lied to me, John! You know very well that it’s me who should have been given this job, I worked my ass off and I deserve it!’ you heard.

Hearing this, you felt an uncomfortable cramp in your stomach and a wide smile disappeared from your face immediately. Is someone getting fired because you got this job? That certainly wasn’t a good start, you thought. Several seconds later, the door to the office opened with force and a man stormed out from the inside. He was tall, very lean, dressed in a tailor-made navy-blue suit, white shirt and a black tie. His face was furious; eyebrows frowned, lips pursed in anger. When he noticed you sitting next to the door, his eyes lingered on you for several seconds as he was walking by, like he was examining you, wondering who you might be. Then he laughed sarcastically, spitting a silent ‘Obviously…’ under his nose. He disappeared behind the door and you were called in by Mr. Stevens as it was your turn to meet in his office.

Keep reading


Mikill Pane, “Chairman of the Board”

callout post for Dr. Gerhard Cromme

- served as the Chairman of the Executive Board of ThyssenKrupp AG from March 1999 to September 2001

- joined the Saint-Gobain Group in Germany in 1971

- joined Krupp Group in 1986

- serves as the Chairman of Supervisory Board at Siemens Metering, Communications and Services

- serves as Chairman of the Supervisory Board at The Siemens Automation and Drives Group; Siemens Oil & Gas Consulting and Siemens Real Estate GmbH & Co. OHG. 

-has been the Chairman of the Supervisory Board at ThyssenKrupp Services AG since 2001. 

- serves as the Chairman of Supervisory Board at Siemens Aktiengesellschaft. 

- served as the Chairman of the Supervisory Board at ThyssenKrupp AG from October 1, 2001 to March 31, 2013. 

- served as the Chairman of Supervisory Board at Siemens Aktiengesellschaft (Siemens AG) of Siemens Healthcare from April 24, 2007 to June 2010. 

- serves as Deputy Chairman of the Board of Trustees of Alfried Krupp Von Bohlen Und Halbach Stiftung. 

- served as Vice Chairman of Supervisory Board at Allianz SE (formerly, Allianz Aktiengesellschaft) until August 14, 2012. 

- has been a Member of the Supervisory Board at Siemens Aktiengesellschaft (Siemens AG) since January 23, 2003. 

- has been a Member of Supervisory Board of ThyssenKrupp Services AG since 2001. 

- has been a Director of BNP Paribas Hungaria Bank Rt. since May 18, 2005.

 - served as a Member of the Supervisory Board of Axel Springer AG (formerly, Axel Springer Verlag AG) from April 14, 2004 to April 16, 2014. 

- served as an Independent Director at Compagnie de Saint-Gobain Ltd., since June 14, 2005 until June 2013. 

- served as a Member of the Supervisory Board of ThyssenKrupp AG. since 2001 until March 31, 2013. 

- served as a Member of International Advisory Board of Council on Foreign Relations Inc. 

- served as a Director of GDF SUEZ S.A. since June 14, 1995. He served as a Member of Supervisory Board of Hochtief AG and Fortum Espoo Oyj. 

- served as a Member of the Supervisory Board of E.ON Ruhrgas AG (formerly, Ruhrgas AG) until August 31, 2005, ABB AG, Allianz Versicherungs-AG (Germany) and a Director of Thales (France). 

- served as a Member of Economic Advisory Board of RWE AG, until August 31, 2006.

- served as a Director of BNP Paribas from March 21, 2003 to July 1, 2007.

- served as a Member of Supervisory Board of E.ON SE (also known as E.On AG) since 1993 and E.ON Energie AG until June 30, 2007. 

- served as a Member of Supervisory Board of Allianz SE from 2001 to August 14, 2012. 

- served as a Member of Supervisory Board of Volkswagen AG from June 19, 1997 to May 3, 2006 and Deutsche Lufthansa Aktiengesellschaft (Deutsche Lufthansa AG) until June 30, 2007. 

- serves as the Chairman of the German Corporate Governance Code Commission, Chairman of the European Round Table of Industrialists and the Chairman of the Supervisory Board of the European School of Management and Technology in Berlin. 

- was also appointed a member of the European Corporate Governance Forum by the European Commission on October 15, 2004

It was in the News

He parks his car in front of the factory gate and lifts his heavy body outside. Standing beside the open door he pulls the slightly slipped waistband over his wide butt again. As usual, he therefore hooks his thumbs in the waistband at the back and lets them slide forward without really expecting to pull it over his mighty, overhanging paunch.

“I really should lose weight,” he thinks.

He still feels the celebration of his fifty-ninth birthday in his bones. Nevertheless, he is more than punctual. He did not want to come too late on this date, to which the chairman of the board of directors had appointed him. He has no idea what exactly the occasion is. Just that it is about financial matters. But if a meeting is scheduled for a Saturday morning, it is certain that not everyone should know immediately what’s going on. As usual, he wears a suit and a tie, and quickly walks the few steps to the porter’s lodge. He bends forward until he is able to speak through the small window.

“Good Morning. My name is Krause. Otto Krause. I have a meeting with the board. ”

The doorkeeper puzzles in his book, then points on a spot with his finger.

“There you are. Otto Krause. One moment please.”

The doorkeeper closes the small window and comes out of his box.

“Well, would you please follow me, Mister Krause.”

The doorkeeper turns around and starts to walk so fast that the fat man has to strain himself to follow. Again and again he has to make one, two jump steps that let his belly bounce.

“Please slow down a little. No one is following us. ”

“I’m sorry, Sir, but I am not allowed to stay away from the gate too long.”

Breathing heavily, the fat man follows the doorkeeper across the factory until they finally enter an almost empty hall. The doorman walks on until he stands in front of one of the last heavy workbenches and turns around.

“Please wait here, I’ll be right back.”

While the doorkeeper leaves the hall, he sits with his hands on the workbench and breathes deeply through. As he breathes quietly again, he looks around. He has not been here since his apprenticeship. It’s been ages since then. After the apprenticeship he studied, then he became a department manager and now he is in the upper management. Since he carried out the restructuring, the company is doing well again; financially anyway. The fact that he had billed his expenses somewhat generously was actually his right. Only the board looked at this a little different.

“No tools, no machines. Almost empty. Maybe it’s about further use of this area. ”

He lifts his heavy onto the workbench.

“Wait and see what happens” he thinks.

A few minutes have passed when he hears footsteps and voices outside the hall. The gate opens and two people are coming towards him. He recognizes the doorman and the head of the personnel department. He immediately stands up and stands in front of the workbench. The two men quickly approach him.

“Good morning!” he calls out to them.

“Morning Mister Krause” the head of HR answers.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Not really. Why do we meet here? A strange place for a board meeting”

The head of HR becomes serious.

“It’s not a meeting.”

Krause looks questioning.

“You may know that some inconsistencies have occurred in your expense statements during the last revision.”

“Yes. But the restructuring was a success. You’ll probably be allowed to celebrate it.”

“Celebrate, yes. But not with money that does not belong to you.”

“Oh, come on. A few hundred Euro. I finally saved millions. ”

“It’s not about the amount, it’s about your behaviour. The chairman will dismiss you without notice for fraud and embezzlement. ”

Krause beckons.

“Slow down. We can talk about everything. ”

“The CEO may report you to the police. I checked the relevant laws. Fraud, embezzlement of company funds and the total amount; the courts are not squeamish in these cases. Three years imprisonment is the normal sentence. Then you are sixty-two and convicted. You will not get a job any more. And retirement? You will definitely not get any payments from the company. And you may also pay damages. ”

The fat man looks down on the ground.

“Is it true that you first denied everything?”


The head of HR shakes his head.

“Mister Krause, I’m sorry to say so, but you’re an idiot.”

“Yes, yes, I know. That is why I am obviously here today. We could balance the sum with my salary. In that case I would work for almost nothing for a month. That should repair the damage.”

“If you are allowed to work here at all, then certainly not to your current references.”

Krause looks down on the floor and breathes a few times. Then he looks up again.

“Where should I work next?”

“That depends on how you behave today.”

Krause’s round face looks questioning.

“I told the chairman that he should think about the case again. After all, you’ve been working here for over 40 years, without any complaints. That’s why I’m authorized to make you an offer. ”


“He renounces the termination of your contract and the report to the ploice if you agree to a physical punishment.”

Krause did obviously not understand.

“Okay. You keep your job and do not have to go to jail if you … ”

“If I what.”

“If you accept a corporal punishment.”

“Corporal punishment?”

“With a cane. You accept a couple of strokes with a cane. This is quite common in other countries as you probably know.”

The fat man gulps and looks at his opponent with a slightly open mouth.

“Come on. A few hits have never harmed anybody and are quickly done. We do not want to hang you at once.”

“Hang me?”

The fat man presses the lips together and twists his head slightly, as if he already feels the noose around his neck. Then he glances at the head of HR.

“No. Never. It’s out of the question.”

“So you’d rather go to prison?”

Krause turns around and starts to walk up and down, calculating the opportunities silently.

“You will not get a single room in prison. I could imagine that thieves, murderers and rapists would love to take care about a huge manager like you.”

The fat man comes back and stands in front of the head of HR.

“How many?”

“I do not know. The CEO just said that you should get yourself hooked up on the workbench and wait for what happens. He would think about time and quantity. Maybe nothing happens, and he just wants to show you that he got you at the balls.”

Krause goes back and forth, shakes his head and chews on the fingernails.

“Think about it. For the first time in prison at your age. They will break you in there. ”

Krause turns around abruptly.

“All right, I agree.”

The head of HR smiles at him.

“Very good.”

Then he steps aside and the porter comes up with a piece of paper, which he places on the workbench.

“Mister Krause, please sign.”

Krause takes the pen in his chubby hand and puts his name on it. The doorkeeper flies over it briefly and faces the fat man.

“Please stand in attention.”

The fat man gazes back and forth between the two men.

“Mister Krause, please,” says the head of HR,

“Remember your army time: heels together, head up, chest out.”

“All right. If that pleases you. ”

He takes a small step away from the workbench. Then he lets his hands sink down at the side of his trousers, straightens himself and stands firm in front of the doorman and the head of HR. The doorman is right in front of him.

“Mister Krause, you have agreed to be physically punished to avoid a denunciation. Please undress now for the execution.”

Krause does not react at first.

“Undress!” The doorman repeats a little more definite.


“You have to undress, Mister Krause,” the doorman says quietly but very clearly.

The fat man looks a bit questioning to the head of HR.

“Please do what you are told to do. Or did you think you will be beaten, dressed in your suit?”

The fat man curses a few times quietly. The corners of his mouth tremble with rage, as he first strips off his shoes and takes off the jacket. His huge round paunch stretches the shirt and hangs over the belt. He looks around briefly. The doorman pushes an old chair toward him and the fat man puts the jacket over the backrest. Furiously, he opens his tie and the top buttons of the shirt. Then he opens the cuffs of his shirt and pulls it without opening it completely and together with the tie over his head. He puts his shirt over the back of the chair and pulls the waistband over his wide butt again. His white undershirt stretched tightly over the belly and his breasts. He looks at the porter, then the head of HR, but none of them shows any reaction.

“Assholes,” he mutters angrily.

He bends his massive upper body backwards and pulls in the belly vigorously to reach the belt, which he then opens with the right hand. He resolutely opens his waistband and fly, drops his trousers and steps out. He does not realize, that the two men look at the garters that prevent the black socks from slipping down the thick lower legs. Like his undershirt, his short, white briefs fit tightly around the massive body, so that his genitals are clearly visible on the front. He has drawn the briefs over his broad butt, but his paunch laps over it. The undershirt has slipped out at the front, so that naked belly fat appears between the shirt and the waistband of the underpants. When he starts to lift his undershirt, the porter stops him.

“That’s enough,” he says, signing the fat man to step closer to him.

“Hands forward.”

Krause reaches out his hands and holds them crosswise. The porter gets them at the wrist and turns them so that the underarms of the fat man are almost in parallel. Well skilled, the porter ties the forearms together with a rope slightly above the wrists.


Krause pulls his hands back, but can not take them down and has to rest his hands on the belly.

“Please sit down on the bench.”

Hesitantly the fat man approaches the workbench and lifts his body on it. It is not easy with his hands tied together and his feet loosing contact to the floor. So he has to move on his wide but from side to side until he sits on the bench, feeling the cold wood through the briefs. He slowly bends backwards until he can not hold himself anymore and tilts on his back. At the same time he angles his legs and stretches his tied hands forward as if he is looking for a stop. Then he begins to jerk his fat body on the bench back and forth, until he is finally outstretched on the bench.

“Do you always wear garters, Mister Krause?”

Krause blushes. Just recently, he had bought a pair but only worn them when the press or television was around. Naked legs were supposed to be not telegenic. He doesn’t know why he put them on this morning. But how should he imagine that he had to expose himself in underwear, socks and garters.

“Also at the weekend?”

Krause lifts his head a little.

“Anything against it?” he barks at the head of HR who lifts his hands excusing.

“No, no. It was just a question. Would you please turn around lie on your belly?”

Cumbersome the fat man turns himself around, groaning quietly. He studs on his elbows and looks at his tormentors. The doorman steps behind him, ties his legs at the ankles and stretches them backwards. Then he walks around and stands in front of his victim.

“Your hands, please.”

The fat man stretches his arms, slipping with his elbows over the plate until he is only lying on his paunch. The doorman pulls his hands to the front, ties them to a rope, so that the fat body lies stretched on the bench. Krause is softly groaning while the porter has once again checks the shackles. He turns to the head of HR.

“I have to go back to the gate. And you?”

“Me too. We are finished here. ”

Krause turns its head.

“And what about me?”

“You have to wait here, Mister Krause.”

He gives the fat man another slap on the back, turns around and follows the porter. Alone in the hall, clothed only in underwear and socks, the fat man rapidly begins to freeze. Cold sweat forms on his fat body, he begins to tremble. Toughly the minutes pass, in which he can do nothing but wait and freeze with fear and cold. With every minute he realizes how his fat body squeezes the air out of him, he begins to groan and gasp for air. Finally, he hears footsteps behind him, coming through the hall toward him and stopping close to him. He tries to turn around, bends the fat body on the workbench to see who is behind him. But he immediately realizes that he will not succeed and so he stretches straight out again.

“There he is, my fat friend. How long is he lying here?”

He recognizes the voice of the chairman.

“Since half past ten, as you requested,”

The second voice is that of the doorman, who stands beside the CEO.

The chairman puts a hand on Krause’s butt, and then slowly walks along, carrying his hand across the back of the fat man. Finally he stands at the front of the bench. Krause tries to lift his head, but can not see the face of his boss. When he wants to let his head sink down again, he feels a hand under his chin. The chairman bends back the head of the fat man until he can look at it.

“And you obviously show remorse when you present yourself that way.”

“Yes,” Krause groans, “I regret all I have done. Really!”

“Oh that’s nice. But you know, fraud is the one thing; but this stubbornness, this criminal energy, right? ”

“Yes” the fat man groans.

“I’m sure you understand if I leave you here to think about your behaviour.”

“Yes, I understand,” he squeezes out hoarsely.

“And let the punishment be done a little later?”

Krause nods frantically, blasting the air. The chairman turns to the porter.

“Let him lie here for one more hour, and then he gets three times five strokes. I think that will be enough. ”

The chairman takes his hand away, and the fat man lets his head sink into his arms. Tears come into his eyes and he hears the two of them leave the hall.

The fat man remains alone in the hall tied on the workbench. Time stretches endlessly as he fights constantly against the increasing shortage of breath and convulsions.

suddenly he again hears someone entering the hall. He finally recognizes a big, powerful man in a gray tunic.

“Hannes? Is that you?”

“Yes, Otto, it is me.”

“Please untie me. Please, please,” the fat man stammers.

The man goes down to his knees and looks directly into Krause’s face.

“Do you remember how we started here?”

“Of course I know that,” the fat man replies angrily.

“I was the last production manager and you were a board member. Then you reorganized the company and now you’re still in the board and I’m a caretaker.”

“I got you a new job.”

“I’m grateful for that.”

“Then please untie me.”

“No way, Otto. We are not that far yet. First I have to give you the strokes that the boss has requested.”

The fat man lifts his head.

“Do you really want to hit me?”

“I have to. The boss ordered that you get three times five strokes before you are allowed get up. ”

“But you can not do that. Please. I will not betray you either. ”

“Oh no. I’m glad I got this job and I do not want to lose it. I only do what I am told. I have nothing against you personally. Really. But job is job, I’m sorry. ”

He walks around the workbench, hooks a pulley into the rope at the ankles, and starts quietly to tension him. The fat man hears the squeaking of the reels.

“What are you doing?” Krause asks in horror.

“I’m really sorry for you, but I have to stretch you before I start. So that you don’t move and stay firmly in that position,” says the caretaker, while slowly stretching the pulley block.

“You got fat within the last years, Otto. Surely 120kg, right?”

Krause does not answer. He groans only softly as the cords continue to tighten. The caretaker stops briefly with his work.

“Come on. How much do you put on the scales. ”

Krause remains silent, only breathes audible.

“I may have a look on your last health check. But this takes of course some time and you will have to lie here. So what is your weight now? 120? 130? ”

“125” squeezes the fat man.

The caretaker turns back to the pulley and stretches his victim. Krause notes how the shackles begin to dig into his ankles. Then he slips a few inches with the belly over the bench and his handcuffs begin to cut into the wrists. The fat  man throws his head back and blows the air out of thick cheeks.

“Please stop! I admit everything! ” he cries with fear in his voice.

“You do not have to admit anything,” he hears the caretaker from behind, “but you should relax. Then stretching is not too painful. ”

Krause breathes a few times frantically, then lets the head sink forward, exhaling deeply. The caretaker pulls the pulley evenly tighter and tighter. The cords are carving into the wrists and ankles of the fat man and stretch his body, until he can’t move any more. A deep moaning comes out of his wide opened mouth before his head sinks down to the workbench and he breathes frantically. The caretaker once again checks the pulley, walks around the workbench, takes an old blackboard from the background and places it in front. From the back of the board he takes out a long cane, which he places lengthwise between his victims arms, so that he has to look at it. He opens his smock and places it at the blackboard. He takes the cane into his right hand and strikes it through the air a few times, creating a whistling sound. Then he turns to the fat man, who is facing him with a painful look.

“Fifteen strikes for a deceiver are actually very little. So let’s start, I want to be ready by noon.”

The caretaker walks slowly to the legs of the fat man who groans on the workbench. He already noticed the garters at the very beginning, but now he can not stand any more. He pushes his index finger under the rubber band and lifts it a few inches.

“How long have you been wearing garters, Otto?”

Krause tries to ignore his tormentor and looks sniffing straight.

“Wasn’t it incredibly embarrassing when you had to drop your pants and stand there in garters?”

“Yes,” Krause grunts.

“That’s good to know. So I leave everything as it is, although I should actually push your socks down. It is already enough naked skin to see for a couple of hits.”

So the caretaker lets the rubber snap and steps back slightly. He places the stick on the naked part between the socks and the rubber band of the garters, and stops when the tip of the cane just reaches out over the tightly lying calves. Slowly he lifts the stick over his head, hesitates a second, and then slams hard. The fat man twitches and holds his breath. The caretaker walks slowly to the blackboard, notes the strike and goes back to the end of the workbench. The fat man tries to look over his shoulder. He sees the caretaker stand beside him and lift his hand with his cane over his head. He hesitates again, giving the next blow to the thighs of the fat man, who groans and throws his head back. Again, the caretaker goes forward and notes the blow, then slowly returns, raises the cane, hesitates and then again hits hard and precisely on the calves of the fat man, who throws his head to the neck and squeezes his mouth not to scream. Slowly, the caretaker goes to the blackboard, notes the blow, and goes back to his last position. He raises the cane, hesitates briefly and then hits the thighs of the fat victim again, who groans briefly and tightens his fat body. While he is still struggling for air, the caretaker goes back to the blackboard to make a note. When he returns he speaks to the fat man.

“I will give you the fifth blow on the calves again; agreed?”

“Please …” Krause groans.

“Fine, your calves are thick enough for three strikes,” the caretaker laughes.

Then he raises his cane again, hesitates and hits hard for the third time on the fat calves, which makes Krause cramp in pain. When the caretaker returned from the blackboard, the fat man still struggles for air. He pets him on the back.

“You have to relax. Everything is easier to bear then. Believe me. I’m not doing this for the first time. ”

Krause breathes deeply in and out, dropping the head to the forward stretched arms. In doing so, he notes how the caretaker grasps his undershirt and rips it with a hard tug. Krause feels the cold air on his wet, sweaty back.

“Well, let’s go on.”

Again, the caretaker takes his cane, stands beside his fat victim, and looks at Krause huge belly swelling out on both sides.

“You became that fat on my expences, you pig,” he thinks.

He raises the cane over his head, hesitates and then hits hard on the wide back lying in front of him. Krause groans and bends his fat body.

“Five strokes on such a broad hump. That is ridiculous.”,

the caretaker mutters to himself, as he goes to the blackboard to record the blow. When he is standing next to the fat man again, he speaks to him.

“Can you tell me how I should smash your back with just five blows?”

Krause does not answer, groans only softly. Then he hears the whistle of the cane again, and feels the piercing pain as the stick hits his back in the middle. His fat body cramps and he hears a deep scream coming out of his mouth. When he recovers his breath, the caretaker is already standing next to him, pushing his pants back slightly, so that the hips are no longer covered. The fat man is waiting for the next blow. His lips tremble, tears rise into his eyes. The caretaker reaches out and strikes the cane with all his power across Krause’s fat hips. Krause throws his head back, opens his mouth, but only a hoarse rattle comes out of his throat, then his head sags forward. After the caretaker has recorded the blow, he pets the fat man on the tied hands.

“Now it’s time for lunch.”

He puts the cane away, loosens the pulley block, unpacks thermos, bread and newspaper, and sits down next to the fat man, whimpering on the workbench.

After his break, the caretaker stows away his stuff.

“Well, let’s start again.”

He goes back and starts to tension the pulley again. Krause wakes up. He recognizes that he is stretched again, stretched hard at arms and legs until he can’t move anymore.

"Your weight is 125 kilos?”

The fat nods.

“Or perhaps 140?”

He stretches the thickness even more.

“130” Krause groans.


The porter stretches the fat man. The cords creak and dig into the thick arms and leg.

“134!” he presses out.

The doorkeeper fixes the rope and stands next to his victim.

“You were lying, Otto. I have to report this. You know the company standards. But for now I will only finish the actual punishment. So please stay calm. We’ll be ready soon. ”

He fetches his cane, then stands next to his victim and strikes hard on his hump. The fat man groans only briefly without lifting the head. The caretaker notes the blow on the blackboard. When he comes back he speaks to the fat man.

“The last one was a little weak. But I’ll do it now. ”

He stands beside his victim and puts the cane on the fat hips. The fear of the next blow lets Krause tremble uncontrolled and suddenly he senses a warmth between his thighs. He can‘t prevent his bladder from failing and his warm urine to spread beneath him. He feels the wetness between the thighs as it spreads under his belly and let howl with shame. The caretaker looks grinning, as a puddle forms under his victim, which quickly seeps through the wood of the bench and drips to the ground.

“Fear?” He asks, and the fat man nods.

“You have every reason for that.”

Then he reaches out and strikes his cane once more across the fat hips. The fat man cramps and cries out loud. After the caretaker has recorded the blow, he slowly passes his victim until he stands beside his butt. As the caretaker pulls the waist of his underpants, he throws his head.

“No! Please, no,” he calls desperately.

But the caretaker rips the fabric with a hard jerk, so the whole ass is lying naked in front of him.

“It’s only five on the bare ass. You will stand that with such a gorgeous butt. And besides, your briefs are completely wet because you’ve pissed yourself, Otto. ”

The caretaker gently caresses the bulging butt in front of him. Then he lifts the cane over his head, hesitates and hits with all his power. A red line immediately forms on the white skin. The fat cramps together, screaming loudly before his head falls on the arms. Tears run down his cheeks.

The caretaker performs the rest of the sentence without a word. Krause obviously surrenders, and only mutes his massive body when a blow hits him. After every hit, the caretaker goes to the blackboard, notes it, and returns to his whimpering victim. For the last time, he stands beside him, lifts the cane over his head and then pulls him hard over the naked, wide butt. The fat man only twitches briefly, as if he had grown accustomed to the burning pain. The caretaker lets his eyes spread over the fat body and nods contentedly. Fifteen dark red lines stand out on the white skin, distributed between the shoulders and the feet. He goes to the board, notes the blow, and turns to his victim.

“Well, that’s it.”

Krause breathes heavily, struggles for air, while his tormentor walks along him, touching the strokes easily with his hand.

“Please. I can’t stand this any longer,” Krause groans.

“Well, you’ll have to wait a little longer, dear.”

The caretaker slowly goes to the pulley block. As he loosens it, the fat man blows out the air audibly, and his still tied legs. The fat man expects his bonds to be taken off. But the caretaker bends over him, picks up a tensioning chain from the other side of the workbench and places it over his back. Krause notes the cold steel on the skin and tries to turn the head.

“What are you doing there?”

He asks anxiously, noting the chain is tightened over his back, digging itself in his back and pressing his body on the bench. The caretaker removes the rope from the fat man’s wrists, and immediately Krause tries to reach the chain over his back.

“Stop doing that. You can’t do anything.”

The caretaker looks calmly as the fat man in front of him desperately tries to reach the lock of the chain. After only one or two attempts, the Krause surrenders and lets the head sink to the bench.

“Well, then,” says the caretaker.

“Now take your hands on your back.”

“What for?”

The caretaker grasps the cane.

“Just do it.”

The fat man slowly pushes his hands back and tries to cross them on his back. But because of his massive body he can only lay his hands on his hips. He notes how the caretaker pulls a cord under his arms and pushes it up to the elbows. Then the caretaker pulls the rope with all his power. Krause’s upper arms are thrown on the back of the fat man, he groans loudly, distorts his face, bends the upper body backwards. The caretaker knots rope quickly at the elbows, so that the upper body is always slightly bent back even when the fat victim relaxes. In the meantime, the caretaker removes the bonding at Krause’s ankles. As he begins to pull the right foot to the side and ties it to the bench, the fat man begins to stomp and twist his fat body. He knows what is ahead of him and starts to roar.

“No!! Don’t do that! NO!! NO!!”

But the caretaker catches his free leg, with which he kicks in the air and tiesit to the other side of the bank. With his legs slightly apart, the caretaker is now standing next to his victim, and he can see the large, hairy testicles hanging low between the thighs. He reaches into a bucket of grease, which stands under the bench and rubs his hands in a position next to Krause’s face, so that he must see it.

“Your first time, Otto?”

Krause stares at the greasy hands and gulps.

“Then you should relax. Actually, I wanted to fuck you. But I don’t want to make myself unnecessarily dirty. ”

The caretaker walks quietly past his victim until he stands beside his butt. He puts the greasy hand on the cheeks and pushes them slowly into the rear sight, until he can feel the anus of his victim with his finger. Slowly he orbits the sphincter, and strengthens slightly the pressure on the anus of the fat man, who strains, groans and tries to press his anus. The caretaker enjoys, as his victim winds, knowing that there is no chance for him. He turns around a little and puts his forearm between the fat thighs, without reducing the pressure on the sphincter. His finger now points straight at the anus, and with a twisting motion he finally lets it slide inside until his knuckles reach the sphincter. Krause breathes loudly and groaning as he notices how something penetrates his anus and is slowly moved in it. He can’t stop his bent legs from twitching involuntarily as he feels the hand of the housekeeper at his glans.

“Is a small cock required to become a board member?”

Krause does not answer but moans softly. He had never had this feeling of fear and excitement that begins to spread in his guts. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply and evenly. He is confused because he is no longer resisting, but enjoys the pleasant feeling that flows through him when his tormentor’s finger presses against his prostate.

A mixture of shame and pride fills him up when he realizes how his penis becomes hard in the hand of the caretaker. Nevertheless, he is relieved when he feels the grip on his glans vanishes and the finger is pulled out of his anus. He breathes deeply, hoping that this has been the end of his humiliation. The caretaker slowly walks along his fat victim until he stands in front of the blackboard, wiping his hands with a rag.

“You’re already dripping, like a young bride.”

The fat man tries to see what the caretaker does. There is horror in his face as he turns around and slowly greases a wooden pole with a knob on one end.

“No,” he whispers in fear of what is ahead of him.

He senses the fear in the stomach and his cock, which pushes hard against his body.

“Please no”

The caretaker slowly returns. As he pushes his buttocks wide with one hand, Krause begins to groan. The caretaker leads the cane between the butt buttocks, touches the anus of the fat man, who compresses the buttocks again and rears the upper body

“Please, please no,” howls the fat man.

He feels the fear in the stomach down to the testicles.

“You should not fight back, Otto, or it will hurt,” says the caretaker,

Strengthens easily the pressure on the anus of the fat man

“I can not do that,” Krause whispers,

bending the upper body and compressing the buttocks. The caretaker simply waits, holding the stick with light pressure on the anus. Finally, the fat man surrenders powerless. He sinks down slowly, breathing deeply, and relaxing his buttocks.

“Well, that’s how it goes”

“Oh God, oh God” Krause groans as he feels the cane beginning to spread the sphincter and slowly penetrates into it. The caretaker observes how the sphincter slowly widens. How often had he visualized this picture in the last few years and often enough he was masturbating at night. He enjoys the way the fat man winds in front of him and winches again and again. From time to time he reduces the pressure and allows the fat man to push the stick out again. He pauses for a moment and then increases the pressure again. Slowly the caretaker leads the pole deeper and deeper into the anus of the fat man groaning on the workbench. Krause feels his anus being stretched further and further, has the feeling as if it would be torn appart. He always tries to beg for mercy, but he only produces gurgling and moaning sounds. He twists his eyes, but no scream leaves his mouth, opened wide in pain and fear. Little by little his anus expands when his tormentor increases the pressure. Then suddenly he realizes how his sphincter relaxes and he breathes more easily. The thickest part of the pole has passed his anus and now slides deeper into it, slowly and without any pressure. Krause one feels the pole in his cock, feels as it pushes against his gut and slides along it. Deeper and deeper, the caretaker pushes the cane. When the fat man feels that the cane comes out of his belly button, he rears the upper body and pokes out a short scream. The caretaker stops briefly, then begins to slowly move the stick back and forth, up and down, watching the reactions of the fat man. His free hand slips into his pocket and starts to masturbate his own cock.

“That’s right, fatso. Fight and struggle,” he thinks.

The fat man in front of him winds, groaning loudly as the cane drifts deep into his bowel. He watches thick drops of sweat appear on the broad back, and in thin streaks run down the bulging belly, on which he rolls back and forwards in pain. Actually, the caretaker wanted to intrude the pole into the fat man in its entire length. Deeper and deeper. Until it gets out of the mouth of this fat asshole. He wanted to impale him. Slowly, very slowly. He should know what happens to him. But he notices that at a certain position of the stick his fat victim groans deeply and moves the wide butt in circles. Without knowing it, he presses the tip of the stick against the prostate of the fat man and forces him to uncontrolled movements.

“That’s even better,” he thinks, as he reaches this point again.

The fat man shrugs his legs and pelvis, grunts deeply and persistently. Then he realizes how the caretaker grasps between his legs and holds his testicles firmly.

“You pig, you miserable pig.”

Krause groans, as the caretaker pulls his testicles back. For a long time the caretaker had imagined this moment. He quickly puts a thin wire loop around the ball sac and tightens it. Actually, he wanted to castrate the fat man during the impalement, like a piglet. Now he pulls the testicles backwards, until the skin of the sack lies tightly around them and fixes them with the wire to the stick. Krause suffers of a piercing pain. He bends his upper body back and screams. The caretaker releases the stick and watches it slowly sliding back into the gut by the contraction of the ball sac of his fat victim. When the end of the cane touches the prostate of the fat man again, he trembles with excitement. The caretaker looks at the shaking fat of his victim, and the long thread of secretion, which hangs down from the uncovered, dark red tip of the now highly sensitive penis. As he slowly pulls out the stick again and he rubs his own hard cock with his other hand. Further and further he stretches the testicles of the fat man, until the piercing pain makes him squeek.

“Another short jerk, and your eggs would be gone, fatso,” he thinks.

He had imagined this moment so often. Only a short jerk and a small turn and the balls would fall down and lie between the legs of this fat pig. But instead, he releases the stick again. Krause feels the stick slide slowly back into his bowel, finally touching his prostate gently and creating this strange feeling of excitement and nervousness that lets his hard penis bounce.

The caretaker opens his pants, pulls out his big, hard cock, and slowly lets his hand slide over its entire length. He pulls the pole back and pulls the ball sac of his victim longer and longer.

“Did you ever imagine to be castrated, Otto?”

The fat man only groans, squeezes the air with a dark red head, grips in the air with hands helplessly. The piercing pain hits him in the belly again. He rears up and shouts with a tilting voice. The caretaker enjoys the sight of the fat man. Sweating and whimpering in fear. He easily touches the now deep red, dripping glans.

“But I do not want to be that cruel. I’ll let you have one shot before your balls fall down.”

He again increases the stress to the testicle.

“And the sooner you come, the sooner you balls are off,” he says just before he releases the pole, which immediately slides back into the gut of the fat man. Krause presses and blows the air with thick cheeks. He gasps for air, sweat runs down his face. When his prostate is touched again, he has to bend his legs as if compelled, and rebounds the upper body. Krause gasps for air, is close to ejaculate. He moans loudly, throws his head back and his hands move helplessly in the air. At the same time, he winds the upper body and struggles with his fixed legs, wiggling back and forth on his belly. His testicles ache, he shrugs, moans and snaps, rolls back and forth on his paunch. Then he tightens the upper body, his whole fat body begins to tremble as he realizes he can’t hold back any longer.

“It’s coming,” he moans softly.

He twists his eyes, saliva runs out of his mouth. He blows, feels how the sperm oozes out, without having an orgasm. Then his head falls forward and he exhausted struggles for air. The caretaker looks closely at how the sperm drips from the bouncing cock of the fat man, gets the still erected penis of the fat man and slowly starts stroking the dark red, moisty glans while he masturbates at the same time. Immediately Krause begins to frantically rumble and prick. He lifts his head, stretches the body once again. He turns his eyes up, groans deeply from the torn mouth. His testicles ache, his hands grip helplessly in the air, his whole body trembles and makes his fat wobble. Suddenly his body tenses. He groans loudly in this forced orgasm, feels how once again sperm is driven out of his penis and at the same time feels something warm on his butt. He can’t see that the caretaker has shot a huge amount of sperm on his butt, which is now slowly running down. His head sinks exhausted, he groans contentedly and pulls the air deep into his massive body.

The caretaker releases his penis and wipes his hands on the thighs of his victim. He closes his pants and after a minute or two he takes the pole again and pulls it back slowly, stretching once again the balls until the fat man’s face twitches with pain.

“Well, Otto. Say "goodbye” to your balls.“

The fat man wants to beg for mercy, but the pain which rushes through his body makes him faint.

The caretaker loosens the wire, the bonding at the elbows and the feet of the fat man, who’s arms and legs drop powerless. He gives him a few minutes before he wakes him up with a few pats on the cheeks. The fat man groans softly in pain and is unable to move. Now the caretaker starts to remove the pole from the anus of his victim and enjoys once again his grunting. Finally, he loosens the chain above the upper body, grabs him by the shoulders and straightens him until he sits on the bench, moaning broadly and painfully. The caretaker pushes a rag on his stomach.

"Clean up that mess, fatso.”

Krause wants to push his right hand under his stomach and between his legs. He has infernal pain. But the caretaker slaps him.

“Hands off.”

Tears stream into Krause’s eyes.

“You really castrated me?”

The caretaker grins at him, whereupon the fat begins to cry unrestrainedly.

“It would have been easy. But I have not done it. ”

The fat man lolls himself from the bench, and naked as he is begins to wipe his sperm and urine, with the caretaker facing and watching him. Finally, he throws Krause’s clothes on the bench.

“Get dressed.”

Slowly the fat man puts his clothes on, and he groans again and again when he touches his wounds or his maltreated testicles. Finally, he buttons the jacket in front of his belly and stands with trembling corners of his mouth in front of the caretaker.

“Come along.”

The fat man follows the caretaker waddling through the plant until they are standing in front of the office of the chairman. The caretaker knocks, opens the door, and knows the thickness to enter. The chairman sits behind his desk and looks up briefly.

“Mister Krause, as you requested, Sir,” says the caretaker

The chairman reaches for a thin booklet, which is lying on his desk, gets up, and stretches out his hand. Krause hesitates.

“Mister Krause, every thing okay? I hope you do not need a doctor now. ”

Krause shakes his head silently.

“Very good. As you accepted, that I had to punish you anyway, that was the better solution, wasn’t it?”

The fat man nods silently.

“And after you’ve supported your punishment so well, I will let the whole matter rest.”

“Thank you,” Krause says voicelessly.

The director offers the file and the fat man takes it slowly.

“This is your new contract. You will be the head of our local office in Tehran. But I want to advise you to follow the local laws. Penalties are publicly executed there. Do you understand me?”

Krause nods.

“All right, then we’ll meet on Monday.”

Krause turns around and leaves the factory slowly, with shuffling steps. His testicles bounce loose in his pants and without underwear he feels strangely naked.

When he falls into the seat of his car, he moans. Trembling he opens the fly and lets his hand hesitantly slip inside. He lets his hand run down his naked belly and finally touches his aching testicles with his fingertips and smiles weakly, tears in his eyes. He had never thought about the pleasure to touch his own balls and find them at the place, where they used to be.

He starts the car.

The music from the radio becomes quieter and the anchorman starts.

“You’ve heard it in the news, but we have to come back to this topic again. Despite of international protests, the regime in Tehran has executed the castration of two men in public. The 49 and 56-year-old managers of an international company had previously been convicted by a jury of embezzlement and bribery … ”


Airport bars, thinks Roy, must be among the most depressing and soulless places on earth. The only reason he’s sitting in this one sipping on a ridiculously over-priced beer is that his brother Douglas is running late to pick him up, so he thought that while he was waiting he may as well do some work on his laptop. Bunty could not have picked a worse time to have her health crisis; Roy signed three highly sought-after young talents last week, including hot new 6′ 8″ basketballer Otieno Henare, and he should be spending his week brokering multi-million dollar sponsorship deals with high-powered execs instead of being stuck out here in the middle of nowhere surrounded by dribbling glassy-eyed yokels. But when he opens his laptop the first thing that greets him in his newsfeed is a smirking picture of Alex Deadshit Dunlop, with his greasy helmet of dyed-black hair and sallow skin, under a headline proclaiming him to be the new chairman of some wanky arts board which apparently is some big fucking deal because he’s responsible for a budget of over §500 million, §20 million of which he wants to immediately flush down the toilet under the guise of ‘fostering the talents of exciting new artists.’ 

Roy: Motherfucker. Fuckwitted, queef-eating cockhead-

Cowboy: The fuck did you just say?

Roy: Calm your tits, John Wayne. I wasn’t talking to you. 

Cowboy: You better watch your language, son.

Douglas: Roy? What the hell?
Esther Afua Ocloo’s 98th Birthday
Esther Afua Ocloo’s 98th birthday! #GoogleDoodle

Today’s Google Doodle honors Ghana’s Esther Afua Ocloo

“As both an entrepreneur and an advocate for microlending, “Auntie Ocloo” worked tirelessly to help others like her succeed. Esther Afua Ocloo had only six shillings to her name — less than a dollar — when she made and then sold her first jar of marmalade as a teenager in the 1930s.

Esther was determined to expand her livelihood of making marmalade and orange juice, but she needed a loan to increase production, and credit was hard to come by for women with little economic resources. It took persistence and a supply contract to secure the money to start her company, Nkulenu Industries.

After traveling to England to learn the latest techniques in food processing, Esther returned home and shared those skills with other Ghanaian women. Perhaps more importantly, she taught them everything she knew about starting and running a business, which put more money in their pockets. She made such an impact that in 1975 she was invited to the first U.N. World Conference on Women.

Esther and other advisors knew that lending money to women could have a ripple effect, improving the prosperity and health of the women as well as their communities. But because they lacked collateral, low-income women were often ignored by banks. So in 1979, Esther helped found and became Chairman of the Board of Directors of Women’s World Banking, which provides millions of low-income women with the small loans needed to reach their financial goals.

On what would have been her 98th birthday, today’s Doodle shows Esther empowering the women of Ghana with the tools to improve their lives and communities.”


Revenge in a Small Town.

(warning: long story)

This occurred about 10 years ago, but still is my favorite revenge.

My first job out of college was for a local government agency in the small town where I grew up. I had moved back to my hometown after college because of family considerations (my grandmother was sick) and because I didn’t want to take a job in a cubicle. As it turned out, this job involved a cubicle, but there was also field work involved, which was what I had been wanting.

Right off, my boss was a little off putting. He butchered the English language in some ways, but was quick to correct someone who might use an incorrect word or phrase. If someone in the community had an issue with our work (the agency involved in the calculation of local taxes) he would first look up their account to determine if they were “worth the time” to talk to personally, or if they should be delegated. Anyone who was “worth the time” got to visit with him personally, and would invariably get additional considerations. Anyone that he delegated had to be denied in almost all requests for relief, even if the request was identical to the issue that had been presented by those deemed to be “worth the time.”

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