close fitting jeans. His
smooth, bare arms hanging loosely by his side.

"Mr Redbotham, this is Adam", said Chris with a wink.

I took them through to the living room. "What's this all about?" I asked Chris.
"He's a stroppy little bugger, always cheeking the older drivers, doesn't like
it when he's told to do jobs other than driving, often late and, as we have to
get out on time, things get rushed and when we rush mistakes are made. He even turned up with a hangover and still over the legal limit this morning. That was when he got his final warning."

"Is that right?" I asked Adam.

"Yeah, whatever…"

"Do you know why you're here?"

"Whatever…" Obviously it was his favourite word.

Adam was shorter than Chris and not so well built. He had curly, black hair,
startling blue eyes framed by long curly dark lashes. With full Cupid's bow lips
and a smooth olive complexion, he would be beautiful if he smiled. Not that I
was about to make him smile.

"Well, young man, you are about to learn some respect for your elders and
betters."

"Whatever…" he said with a shrug.

I desperately wanted to slap him across the face when that word came out again
but his punishment had to be cool and dispassionate.

"What, exactly, is your problem?" I asked him.

"I like driving but the other stuff's crap."

At least he could string more than two words together. "That's the case with any
job" I lectured him, "There are bits we like and bits we don't. We have to pay
for the best bits with the crap bits and if you don't do your share someone else
has to. You've also got to respect the older guys, they can teach you a lot -
not only about the job but about life as well. Yes?"

"'Spose so."

"Do you play any sports?"

He brightened up a bit. "Yeah, soccer on Saturdays. Not that anybody's bothered
about what I do. No-one ever comes to watch me."

"And I suppose you only enjoy playing and hate all the training?"

"Nah, training's OK. Bit of fun."

" Well a job's just like that. How old are you?"

"Nineteen… and a half," he added as an afterthought.

"Well, it seems words don't get through to you so other measures have to be
taken. You, young man, are going to have the spanking of your life and we'll see
how cocky you are after that. Take off your trainers."

"Whatever…"

He bent over to remove his footwear, presenting a beefy, jean-clad butt. I
couldn't resist and gave him a hard whack. He staggered forward but quickly
regained his balance and gave me a filthy look. I caught Chris smirking.

"Now the jeans!"

"What! No way?" At least there was no "..ever" this time!

"You will do as you're told if you want to keep your job. You know what you
agreed," interceded Chris.

A little less bravado now, as Adam fumbled with the zip and eased the jeans over
his generous rump and let them fall to his ankles. He was obviously a footballer