My new arrogant boss is someone I know - Chapter 1 (Patreon)

Author’s note: All my characters are consenting adults (18+). All sexual acts depicted are consensual between the adult characters.

Chapter 1

I was twenty years old, a nervous intern with glasses and a cheap dress shirt that already felt too tight under the arms. It was my first day at the firm, and I had spent the entire train ride trying to convince myself I wouldn’t throw up.

My best friend’s father worked here. I knew that. What I didn’t know was that he was going to be myboss.

When I walked into his office that morning, the recognition hit me immediately. Same cold gray eyes. Same sharp jaw. Same controlled way of sitting that made everyone else in the room feel smaller. Calum was forty, completely bald, with a short, neatly trimmed beard that made him look even more severe. 

His body was lean and hard from years of running — the kind of disciplined fitness that showed in his shoulders and the way his white shirt stretched across his chest. He looked up from his computer and held my gaze for a long second.

Then his expression went completely flat.

“You’re the new intern,” he said. Not a question.

“Yes, sir.”

He didn’t smile. He didn’t say my name. He didn’t acknowledge that he had seen me in his own living room a dozen times over the years. He just pointed to the chair across from his desk.

“Sit. Don’t speak unless I ask you something. And try not to embarrass yourself on your first day.”

That was how it started.

The rest of the morning was a slow, controlled kind of cruelty. Every time I made a small mistake — and I made several — Calum corrected me in front of whoever happened to be nearby. His voice never rose. He didn’t need it to. He would look at me over the top of a document, eyes cool and faintly disgusted, and say things like, “Do it again. Properly this time,” or “I expected better, even from an intern.”

At one point he handed me a stack of files and said, without looking at me, “Try not to drop these. I know coordination isn’t your strong suit.”

I felt my face burn.

The worst part was the confusion. At my friend’s house, Calum had always been polite. Distant, yes, but never unkind. He would nod at me in the kitchen, ask how school was going, sometimes even smirk at something my friend said. This version of him felt like a different man entirely — colder, sharper, and deliberately unkind.

By lunch I was already exhausted from the tension.

In the afternoon it got worse. He called me into his office three separate times for minor things. Each time he made me stand in front of his desk while he finished whatever he was doing on his computer, letting the silence stretch until my hands started to sweat. When he finally spoke, it was always short and dismissive.

“This formatting is sloppy.”

“Fix it.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Every time I left his office, I could feel his eyes on my back. I know I have a perfect round ass.

At 6:51 p.m., when most of the floor had already emptied, his voice cut through the quiet.

“David. My office.”

I walked in and closed the door behind me. He was standing by the desk, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the veins in his forearms standing out against his skin. He looked at me the same way he had all day — cold, evaluating, faintly contemptuous.

“You’ve been staring at me since this morning,” he said.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

He stepped closer. “Don’t insult me by pretending you don’t know who I am. You’re my son’s little friend. The quiet one. The one who always looked at me a little too long when you came over to the house. The gay one.”

My face went hot.

He reached past me and locked the door. The sound of the click was loud in the quiet office.

“Take your pants off.”

I froze.

He raised an eyebrow. “Was I unclear?”

My hands were shaking as I unbuttoned my pants and pushed them down along with my underwear. The air-conditioning felt cold against my skin. He looked down at my cock — already half-hard from pure nerves and something darker — and let out a short, humorless breath.

“Of course.” He knew how much he’s turning me on.

“You want this job, right?”

“Yes, sir…”

“Very well. Let’s see your skills you have to please your boss.”

He turned me around and shoved me face-down over his desk in one rough motion. Papers scattered. My glasses nearly slipped off. His hand came down hard between my shoulder blades, pinning me there while he opened a drawer. I heard the sound of a bottle, then the cold slick of lube being poured between my cheeks.

He didn’t prepare me carefully.

Two thick fingers pushed into me without warning, stretching me open in a way that burned. I bit down on my own forearm to keep from making noise. He worked them in and out with clinical efficiency, then pulled them out.

I heard his belt, the zipper, the soft sound of him stroking himself once.

Then the blunt, thick head of his cock pressed against me.

“Stay quiet,” he said. “If anyone hears you, this becomes a very different conversation.”

He pushed in.

It was slow only because he was big — long and thick enough that my body fought every inch. The stretch was sharp and overwhelming. I gasped against the desk as he kept going until his hips were flush against my ass and I could feel every pulse of him inside me.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Tighter than I expected.”

He didn’t give me time to adjust. He started fucking me in deep, controlled strokes, one hand still pressing me down against the wood while the other gripped my hip hard enough to leave marks. Every thrust forced a small, broken sound out of me that I tried to muffle against my arm.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he said, voice low and rough. “All those times you came to my house. Looking at me like that. Getting hard under the table.”

I confirmed it, I shook my head weakly, but he only fucked me harder.

“Of course… Gay boys love my cock. You’re leaking all over my desk.”

He was right. My cock was trapped between my stomach and the hard surface, smearing precum with every thrust. The humiliation of it made everything hotter and worse at the same time.

He leaned over me, chest against my back, and spoke right against my ear.

“You’re going to come in here whenever I tell you to. You’re going to take whatever I give you. And you’re going to keep your mouth shut about it. Especially to my son. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I choked out.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.”

He straightened up and started fucking me in earnest — long, powerful strokes that made the desk creak. One of his hands wrapped around the front of my throat, not tight enough to cut off air, but firm enough to remind me exactly who was in control. The other stayed on my hip, pulling me back onto his cock with every thrust.

I came first, suddenly and hard, spilling across the polished wood of his desk with a muffled cry. The way I clenched around him made him curse under his breath.

“Fuck, I’m gonna breed you.”

He followed a few seconds later, burying himself to the hilt and flooding me with thick, hot pulses while his fingers dug into my skin.

For a moment the only sound in the room was both of us breathing hard.

Then he pulled out.

I felt his cum start to leak down my thigh. He stepped back, already tucking himself away like nothing had happened.

“Go home, David.” he said coldly. “And be here at eight tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

I pushed myself up on shaky arms, pulling my pants back into place with trembling hands. My legs felt unsteady. When I turned to look at him, he was already sitting behind the desk again, scrolling through something on his computer, expression completely neutral.

Like he hadn’t just fucked his son’s best friend over his desk.

“Close the door on your way out,” he said without looking up.

I did.

And the entire walk to the elevator, I could still feel him inside me.

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