My Boss - Chapter 1 (Patreon)

My Boss

The Debt - Chapter 1

I was outside my boss’s room, forehead pressed against the cool mahogany door, heart hammering against my ribs. From inside, I could hear his deep voice cutting through the speakerphone — cold, sharp, and completely in control.

“Get it done by Friday, Mark. No excuses.”

A click. Then silence.

I knocked twice.

“What.”

It wasn’t a question. I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

His office smelled like leather, expensive cologne, and old books. He sat behind his massive desk like he owned everything in it — which, technically, he did. My boss was forty-eight, but he carried his age like armor. Broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal thick, veined forearms covered in dark hair. His tie hung loose around his neck, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, exposing the strong column of his throat and the beginning of a solid, hairy chest. His jaw was sharp and shadowed with dark stubble, and his hair — once jet black — now had streaks of silver at the temples, making him look even more severe and commanding.

When he finally turned his head to look at me, those cold gray eyes pinned me in place.

“Spit it out,” he said, voice low and rough. “I don’t have all night.”

I swallowed. “It’s about the car. I… I hit a pole earlier. The fender’s dented.”

He leaned back slowly in his leather chair, eyes dragging over me with clear irritation. “A little dented,” he repeated. “The company car. The one I let you use. And you treat it like a fucking toy.” He shook his head. “You’re twenty years old and still acting like a spoiled little brat.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I’ll pay for the repairs—”

He cut me off with a short, humorless laugh. “With what? Your little entry-level salary?” He pushed his chair back and spread his legs. “Come here.”

My stomach dropped, but I walked around the desk anyway. Up close, I could smell the rich scent of his cologne mixed with the faint, masculine smell of his skin after a long day. He looked up at me, eyes dark and unreadable.

“You want to make this right?” my boss asked.

I nodded.

His large hand reached out and rested heavily on my hip, fingers digging in.

“Then get on your knees.”

The words hit hard. I froze.

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.

“Now.”

My knees hit the carpet before I could think twice. He watched me for a second, then reached down and unbuckled his belt. The metallic sound seemed loud in the quiet room. He popped the button on his trousers and pulled his cock out — already half-hard, thick, and heavy.

He gave it a slow stroke while looking down at me.

“You dented my car,” he said. “Now you’re going to pay for it with that mouth. Open up.”

I hesitated.

His hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking me forward. “I said open.”

My lips parted on instinct. He pushed the thick head of his cock between them without waiting, forcing it deep into my mouth in one rough thrust. The taste of him — clean skin and that faint, masculine musk — flooded my tongue as he pushed deeper.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “That’s it. Take it.”

He didn’t ease me into it. He used my mouth like he owned it, one hand gripping my hair tightly while he started rocking his hips. Every time he pushed too deep, I gagged, and every time I gagged, his grip tightened.

“Relax your throat,” he ordered. “You’re not getting up until I’m finished.”

Tears stung my eyes as he started fucking my mouth in steady, punishing strokes. Spit ran down my chin and dripped onto the carpet. His cock was thick and heavy on my tongue, stretching my jaw wide as he used me without mercy.

“Look at you,” he growled. “On your knees under your boss’s desk like a desperate little whore. Is this what happens when you fuck up? You pay with your throat?”

I tried to shake my head, but he held me still and thrust deeper.

“No? Then why the fuck are you hard right now?”

Humiliation burned through me. I hadn’t even realized how turned on I was until he said it. My face flushed hot as he laughed, low and cruel.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

He started moving faster, fucking my throat with rough, deliberate thrusts. The wet, filthy sounds of him using my mouth filled the office. His hand in my hair became almost painful as he held me in place.

“Take it,” he grunted. “This is what you get for being a useless little employee. You pay with this tight throat.”

His movements grew rougher. I could feel him swelling against my tongue. He was getting close.

“Swallow every drop,” he ordered, voice tight. “If you waste any, we’re starting over.”

With a low, guttural groan, he came hard, flooding my mouth with thick, hot pulses. I swallowed as fast as I could, choking around him, but some still leaked out the corners of my lips.

He kept me there until he was finished, then finally let go of my hair.

I pulled back, coughing, my lips swollen and wet. My face was a mess. He looked down at me like I was something he’d just used.

“Clean yourself up,” he said, already tucking his cock back into his pants. “And take the car to Giovanni’s on Tuesday. Tell him to put it on my account.”

He turned back to his computer like I wasn’t even there anymore.

“Now get the fuck out of my office,” my boss said without looking at me. “And close the door behind you.”

I stood up on shaky legs and walked out, the taste of my boss’s cum still thick in my mouth and the shame sitting heavy in my chest.

But the worst part?

I was still hard.

All characters are consenting adults (18+). All acts depicted are consensual between the characters.