He pulled over and stopped, he took a deep breath and walked back towards the cop car. The policeman got out, ticket book in hand. Chris brushed his chlorine-bleached blond hair out of his eyes and gave the guy his best sheepish grin. The cop did not grin back. Uh-oh, he thought: this guy's gonna give me a hard time for sure!
If there was one thing that burned Cpl. John Flagg up, it was the way some of the kids drove around campus, as if they owned it. He particularly had it in for the little rich fucks who tooled around in the Jeeps and sports cars their daddys bought them. Flagg had finished two hitches in the Army, just to pay for his own schooling, and still had to work part-time, scrimping and saving. He had made it his personal crusade to instill a little discipline and respect in some of these punks, and he took it seriously.
He recognized the boy in the red Jeep: he had seen him tooling around campus as if he owned the road. Once, he had spun his unit around to clock the little brat, but the kid had slowed down, grinning. Well, he had him, now. He watched Chris saunter back to the unit, with the same smart-ass grin. The boy was good-looking, Flagg thought, the kind he liked to pick up at the leather bar he frequently visited, just off campus. He was slender and well muscled, with longish hair. He was wearing red spandex shorts, obviously to show off his stuff, and a Nike t-shirt. Good. A smart-ass jock! Perfect!
You can read another of my favorite stories at:
http://www.malespank.net/viewStory.php?id=1070
If there was one thing that burned Cpl. John Flagg up, it was the way some of the kids drove around campus, as if they owned it. He particularly had it in for the little rich fucks who tooled around in the Jeeps and sports cars their daddys bought them. Flagg had finished two hitches in the Army, just to pay for his own schooling, and still had to work part-time, scrimping and saving. He had made it his personal crusade to instill a little discipline and respect in some of these punks, and he took it seriously.
He recognized the boy in the red Jeep: he had seen him tooling around campus as if he owned the road. Once, he had spun his unit around to clock the little brat, but the kid had slowed down, grinning. Well, he had him, now. He watched Chris saunter back to the unit, with the same smart-ass grin. The boy was good-looking, Flagg thought, the kind he liked to pick up at the leather bar he frequently visited, just off campus. He was slender and well muscled, with longish hair. He was wearing red spandex shorts, obviously to show off his stuff, and a Nike t-shirt. Good. A smart-ass jock! Perfect!
You can read another of my favorite stories at:
http://www.malespank.net/viewStory.php?id=1070
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