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[downlowjoe]

A tale from my old LTA profile 

LATE NIGHT AT THE OFFICE

I know I can get any girl at the office... especially the married ones. Ever since I started last week they've been swooning over me in one way or another, either gossiping or directly flirting, and I've rolled with it. My boss doesn't seem to like me much, or does a little too much, but the other guys are pretty chill and have similar interests so picking up a conversation comes generally easy. All things considered, this new job was turning out to be my best one yet. And I never would have had this opportunity had I decided to stick it out in my hometown for another who knows how many years. I was out here on my own dollar, but that was fine. I was my own man.

At least, I used to think that. Things have changed considerably since the last time I've been to the office; I'm yet to return. The official story is that I'm taking care of a conference overseas for Mr. Sykes, and am expected back some time next month. Something tells me that bridge'll collapse before it comes time to cross it, but I'm getting off track.

Sheila Flannery is the owner of the company, and while she's been said to stop in every now and again to check on her main office here in Gronsville, she's usually out of state co-designing or promoting the next article of clothing from her fashion line. So far out of my realm I'd be bored to tears listening to the intricacies, but as long as my boss's boss wasn't breathing down my neck all the damn time, she could be selling pet rocks for all I cared.

Mr. Sykes is the one who hired me and the one I report to. My official job description is 'personal assistant'. Sometimes I work the phones with the others, sometimes I work the desk when Amy habitually calls out sick, but most of the time I'm going back and forth, fetching Sykes this, doing that for him, usually the dirty work he doesn't feel like doing. I was working the floor the day it happened, cranking those calls out till late at night. Was so focused on making that caller's commission that I hadn't noticed everyone was gone until Johnny tapped my shoulder to give me a fist bump on his way out.

I checked the clock as he strolled down the hall and disappeared into one of the elevators. 12:54. How?? I peeked over the tops of the cubicles and saw that I was indeed the last one left. Well, all except for Mr. Sykes. That's when I decided I ought to take off too. I'd had a pretty weird encounter with Sykes in the men's bathroom earlier that day and didn't need to make those types of experiences a habit. However, I wasn't exactly in the healthiest of mind states when I left Oakwood to come to the big city, what with everyone I knew making me feel like a freak for having dreams and aspirations outside of living the clearly unhappy life my parents led. I had no one, and was still regaining my confidence, and so really knew no one either. I was on my own out here, and if I lost that job, I didn't know what would happen.

There was no escape for me though. Sykes must've knew his little promise of bonus commission would give me more than enough incentive to work until way late. He had me right where he wanted me. And I was too foolish, or spineless, to simply walk away from that job and leave my fate to chance. He called me into his office and I followed his orders. In retrospect, that dynamic seemed to have existed between us since my first day there. Sykes knew what he was doing the day he hired me.

There was a leather couch in his office that he was known to sleep on when he was too tired to drive home. He'd leave the office early in the morning, then return freshly showered and ready to go. I'd probably do the same thing if I was the manager. For whatever reason, the couch was pushed up against the wall so that the back was facing his desk on the other side of the room. Maybe it was so he didn't fall off during one of his power naps. Who knows? All I do know is that he said something about having dropped his company ring and seeing it roll under the couch, and if I could try to reach it.

I thought about moving the couch to check, but decided against it. Last thing I needed was some outburst about scuffing up the hardwood or some other BS. I got down on my hands and knees and angled my head for a peek. Nothing. Well, it was kinda dark wasn't it? Maybe I should try my phone. Sykes got up from his desk as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell and hit the button for the light. There was a click of him locking the door, but I didn't think much of it. Was so focused on angling the light underneath the couch that I hadn't noticed him draw the blinds closed either. Then the light bounced off something shiny.

"Hey, I found your ri-"

Sykes was suddenly on top of me. I struggled to get out of his grasp, but he was a lot stronger than he looked. There was no way I could get leverage with his knees on the back of mine and his hand pinning my head against the floor. I tried to scream, but he stuffed his sweaty socks in my mouth and everything came out muffled. He worked like an expert in removing his own tie and using it to bind my hands behind my back. As if to make matters worse, there was a mirror on his wall. I watched in detached disbelief as his reflection unzipped its pants and pulled out a fully erect, throbbing white cock.

He already had my pants and boxers pulled down to my ankles. No one was coming to save me, I realized. This is really happening. No one cares what happens to me. With these thoughts came less and less of an urge to fight, and by the time he was about to enter me, I was just sitting there like an obedient personal assistant. I guess this is what I was hired for. He wasted no time with a condom, seeing as how he basically owned me now. Sykes penetrated me slowly. First the head, then back out. Then back in, halfway down the shaft, and out again. The third time he went balls deep and stayed there.

I was ready to leave at 12:55. By 1:05, I was getting slammed by my boss in the back office. I thought it would never end. He never pulled out, just kept thrusting into me over and over again, like a jackhammer. Then, after his pace had sped for a few beats, he froze. He came... and I could feel everything. His hard, pulsating cock inside my asshole, pumping me full of hot seed. He leaned in close.

"You're coming back to my house. Unless you want everyone hear to know how much of a gay little slut you are, that is. Now get up, pull your pants up, and get in the car. We're not done yet. Not by a long shot."

With that, he pulled out of me and left me there leaking.

"Don't make me tell you twice," he warned.

"Yes sir," I tried to say through the socks still in my mouth.

This was gonna be a long month.

TO BE CONTINUED.... 

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