Victor had texted me to show up at 9AM the following day, even though all of my paperwork and emails said work hours began at 10. But I showed up nonetheless, ready for my first full day. The morning lot attendant was a different man, but he let me up, and I took a deep breath as the elevator climbed.
As if he were waiting for me, Victor greeted me as soon as the doors opened.
“Good morning, Garrett,” he smiled. I scanned the room and saw that hardly anyone else was there yet.
“Uh, morning, Mr. Tanner. Am I early?”
“No, no,” he said, ushering me to my desk to set my things down. “I just figured you might want some time to orient yourself to the space, et cetera.”
“Hm,” I nodded. That seemed kind enough.
“And I was really hoping you could do a coffee run a bit early today. I’ve got a few long meetings, and I’ll need the caffeine.” The nonchalance of his demands was borderline rude.
Couldn’t you go get your own coffee? I wanted to ask. Instead of making me come an hour early?
But for $35 an hour, I could go get some coffee. Victor gave me specific instructions on exactly how hot each of his three double-americanos should be at the coffee shop down the street, and so I made my way on foot.
Brewbie’s was a newer shop that had popped up post-boom. I had been in there once or twice, but this day I was focused. I gave the short-haired barista my order, and she made a face.
“Tanner has a new slave, huh?” She asked as she started up the espresso machine.
I cringed at her choice of words, but I played along.
“Yeah, it’s my first day,” I chuckled.
“That poor Lisa,” she muttered.
I began to worry this was all a big mistake. Was I being used? For $35 an hour, did it matter, though?
She handed me a drink carrier—four drinks.
“What’s the extra for?” I asked.
“Partly in case one spills on your way back. Vic Tanner won’t accept any less than three. And that way if all four make it, you’ve got one for yourself. On the house,” she said with a wink.
“Well, thank you,” I smiled.
“Take care!” She called as I left.
I managed to successfully complete the journey back to the office and up the elevator. Victor wasn’t waiting to greet me this time, so I set one of the coffees on my desk and walked to his office door. I knocked three times, and he answered.
“Ah, yes,” he said, taking the drink carrier from my hands. I stood there for a moment as he sauntered back to his desk. He looked over to me and said, “that’s all.”
So I went back to my desk and waited for the day to begin. Paulette showed up soon after, and she gave me a soft smile. Her blonde hair was cut in a way that may appear like a traditional ‘Karen,’ but I learned quickly she was kind and helpful, if a little shy.
My first few phone calls were awkward, and I accidentally patched one call through to the COO, Victor’s uncle, Dalton. But other than that, I found my groove. I hadn’t packed a lunch, but I was too anxious to eat anything, so for my 30-minute lunch, I just walked around the business district.
After my lunch, I had four more hours to go. Midway through the second half of my shift, I realized I needed to use the restroom, so Paulette covered the phones while I was gone. I walked to the bathroom and pushed the door in. It seemed empty, and I walked over to the farthest of the four urinals—without dividers between them—and pulled out my dick, sighing as my bladder emptied.
But then the door opened, and someone walked right up next to me. My eyes remained forward, but in my periphery, I could see this guy undoing his belt, and I could even almost see the shape of his dick. That’s when he spoke, and I recognized the voice as Victor’s.
“Good first day?” He asked. I tried my best to keep my eyes forward, but I could tell his head was turned.
“Yeah, everything’s good so far,” I replied. I finally allowed my eyes to cheat over, and Victor was definitely looking at me. But he wasn’t looking at my face. So I got brave and peeked down, too.
Victor seemed to be cut like me, about the same length soft as me. His pubes were lighter colored than the hair on his head and trimmed pretty short. Then I zipped my eyes forward again before he noticed.
“Glad to hear, Garrett.”
I shook off, flushed, and zipped up, and I walked to the sinks to wash my hands. Victor was quick to follow, and as we washed our hands , he continued to talk to me, looking at me through the mirror.
“I think you’ll quite like it here,” Victor said, a smirk seemingly tattooed on his face.
“So far, so good,” I smiled. I was feeling almost uncomfortable with the amount of attention, especially in the bathroom. But there was part of me that enjoyed it. Even if this man was straight and secretly married—ignoring the fact that he was my boss—he was looking at me. Talking to me.
We dried our hands simultaneously, and he nodded at me to exit first, and we went our separate ways.
The rest of my shift went smoothly, and afterward I headed home. The next day, I repeated the same—minus the awkward bathroom encounter. And by the end of my first two weeks, I had everything down. The girl at Brewbie’s was named Ashli (yes, spelled like that), and she was very nice. We developed a good rapport, and I only let her give me free coffee once or twice a week.
My first paycheck hit my bank account that Friday, and it was glorious. Sure, taxes and insurance took a good chunk, but I was still taking home considerably more than I had at the docks and delivering combined. I called my mom on my way home from work that Friday and filled her in, and she was very proud of me.
But the thing was, I hadn’t done anything to earn this position. For some reason, Victor had fired Lisa and sought me out to replace her. I didn’t know why, or how he found me, or why he couldn’t just hire someone else.
On Saturday, my day off, I went shopping for more work outfits, as I was running out of collared shirts and slacks. I figured I could use some new suit jackets and blazers as well, and I finally had some extra money to afford it. As I was in a changing room trying on a pair of pants, I heard my phone buzz from the bench next to me. It was a text from Victor.
Enjoy your day off. —V2
I read his text with the pants around my knees—I’d stopped everything just to read it. I didn’t usually make it a habit to have a texting relationship with my boss, but he had initiated all contact up to that point, so I decided to go with it.
I am! Just out buying some new work clothes so I don’t wear the same ones over and over. I tried to be casual and friendly enough.
That pair fit just fine, and so I tried khaki pair next that was rather snug on my ass. My phone buzzed again.
Finding anything good? Are you at DeWaan’s?
I laughed. I was most certainly not at the most upscale men’s clothing store in the city.
I’m currently in the Macy’s fitting room, actually. It’s been hit or miss but I’ve found some decent items.
And immediately he replied.
Show me.
My jaw dropped. What did he mean? A picture of the clothes? A picture of me?
But he asked. And I couldn’t say no to my boss, could I? So I snapped a picture of myself in the mirror in the too-tight pants and a similarly-colored blazer, and I sent it to him with the message, I hope this is what you meant… otherwise this will be very awkward.
And again, he replied immediately, I’d like to give you a little bonus so you can go to DeWaan’s.
My face got really got again. This was crazy. Why is he being so nice to me?
I couldn’t accept that. But thank you so much. You’ve been incredibly kind.
I insist. Then immediately after that, I can take you shopping if that would be helpful. We’ll put it on my card & I can help you shop.
Does he think I need help picking out clothes? Maybe I do… I pondered. Fashion had never been my strong suit, and I typically wore whatever I thought looked nice. But maybe Macy’s wasn’t high-end enough for a juggernaut like TannerCorp.
That would be nice! I replied out of courtesy. I hoped he’d maybe forget. But that wasn’t the case.
Meet me at DeWaan’s in 20. I’ll send a car to Macy’s to drive you. It seems to be raining.
Yet again, Victor was leaving me frazzled and reeling. I quickly gathered up all the new clothes and put my street clothes back on—just jeans and a jumper. I rushed to the counter and paid, and then I waited by the doors for a car. Eventually, a black car rolled up, and I knew it was for me.
I walked up to it, and the driver got out to open the rear door for me.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Middleditch,” he said.
“Oh, thank you,” I replied as I ducked into the car.
It was a quick jaunt to DeWaan’s. The store was much smaller than a Macy’s, and everything inside was at least triple the price. At first, I felt out of place. There were leather hand bands, satchels, shoes, and even jackets. There was an array of neckties and bow ties more varied than I could imagine, and I even noticed a sign that said, ‘100% Himalayan Silk!’
Finally, though, the door opened behind me, and in walked Victor. He looked extra sharp, wearing a black suit and a jade green tie that matched his eyes. He smiled at me and adjusted his cuff links.
“Afternoon, Garrett.”
“Hi, Mr. Tanner,” I said softly.
“Please, call me Victor. At least outside of work.”
I wondered what he liked to be called in bed… And then I shirked away that thought, embarrassed to be lusting after my boss so randomly and frequently.
“Thanks for the car, Victor,” I said. And only then did I remember I had my own car that was now abandoned at Macy’s. He must have noticed in my eyes I was worried about something.
“I’ll give you a ride back to yours. I just wanted to make sure you would come.” He smirked and stepped toward me, and we began shopping.
He heavily encouraged me to buy whatever I wanted, but I didn’t know where to begin or what was too much. But he insisted we start with some Italian leather shoes, the likes of which had never been anywhere near my feet.
But they fit like a dream and wore like a cloud, and Victor grabbed the box and placed it on the counter, and we continued. By the end of it, I had a silk blazer, two new full suits—a navy and a black—including pocket squares, and about ten new ties.
I was nauseous at the total, but Victor turned to me and asked, “Are you sure this will be enough? I want you to get what you want.”
“Victor, this is more than enough, and frankly, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank you.” I felt guilty, really. As though I was taking advantage of this rich guy. But he was offering, insistently. And I’d turned down plenty of handouts in my life before, and it got me nowhere. So for once, I didn’t mind a handout, the courtesy of a near-stranger
We left DeWaan’s, and Victor was kind enough to help me hang up the (new, leather) garment bags in the back of his suburban. And then I hopped in the passenger seat, and he drove me to my car.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said as I emptied his backseat.
“Thanks for everything. Truly.”
“I take care of my people,” he crooned. I almost got goosebumps.
What is coming over me? It was like he was buying my affection, but without me knowing. Was I really that easy to please?
As I drove home, I couldn’t help but think about him. He was so brash, so slyly cutting, but at the same time he was incredibly generous and subtle. I wondered if it would be appropriate to text him again.
It seemed inappropriate, sure, but I was the subordinate, and I was confident he wasn’t going to tattle on me. But nepotism worked in mysterious ways, and I knew that very well. And yet, when I got home, I hung up my new clothes and sat down on my reclining chair, and I pulled out my phone to type up a message.
But, to my surprise, he had already messaged me.
I may need your assistance in my office tomorrow morning. Please arrive @ 9 again. —V2
There were plenty of things I’d like to assist him with, but I had to keep it professional in my reply.
Of course. And thank you again for your generosity. You’ve afforded me kindness that many others have not.
I left it at that, and I put a kettle of water on the stove for tea. My apartment was small, but it was cozy. Once the water was ready, I made myself a cup of chai with a splash of milk. I didn’t fret that it was cheap grocery store tea, and I just enjoyed it.
Maybe Victor will buy me some fancy tea, I mused, giggling to myself.
I turned my attention to my 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle I’d been working on for a few weeks. Since starting the new job, I hadn’t made much progress, so I decided to make a night of it. The end result was a large picture of a cat wearing a clown nose and wig. It was a gift from my mother three years prior, and she had bugged me about doing it, so I finally did.
I got into bed with a book. It was just some cheap horror novel from the airport that I’d started a million times, but I finally committed. It wasn’t great, but some parts were well-written enough to keep me engaged. I turned off my light and rolled over to sleep.
But before I did, I rubbed one out once more, imagining what would have happened if Victor had snuck into the fitting room with me…
——
The elevator doors opened, and I walked through the empty office toward Victor’s door. I knocked, and I heard him tell me to come in. I opened the door and quickly shut it behind me, and then I turned to face Victor. He was seated in his chair, behind his desk, reclining with his foot up.
“Good morning, Mr. Tanner,” I said, trying to mask my nerves. I still didn’t know what he wanted help with.
“Please. Victor,” he replied.
“Oh, I thought you said just outside of work.”
“Well, we’re not working, are we?” He dropped his foot and leaned forward.
“I guess not.” I swallowed, feeling hot. “What, exactly, did you need help with?”
Victor stood up. “Come here, please.”
As though I was hypnotized by him, my feet moved on their own, and I was soon standing next to him. He took a step toward me, and now we were face to face. He was about three miles inches shorter than I was, but he carried himself like he was much taller.
And then, his hand slid around my waist and pulled me into him so our faces were about an inch apart. I froze completely, and his other hand slid up my chest, up my neck, and grabbed me softly by the back of my head. He pulled my lips to his, and instantly his tongue was exploring my mouth.
I liked it. A lot. But I was panicking. This was my new boss. My incredibly wealthy and powerful new boss, and he called me into his office before work to make out? This didn’t seem right. But I felt his bulge press against mine, and any apprehensions floated away like dandelion seeds.
His breath was hot, and he drifted down to kiss my neck, sucking on it.
Is he trying to give me a hickey? I worried. So I pulled away, and we locked eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step back. “I think I misjudged the situation. Not to worry. I have my personal lawyer ready to set up a good severance package and an NDA. I apologize—this is very inappropriate.” He was rambling.
“Wait.” I out my hand up. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Well?” He raised an eyebrow. “What do you have to say?”
“Why do I need a severance package? Are you firing me?” I was panicking in a different way.
“Only if you believe I crossed a line. I was under the impression that… well, never mind.” He pursed his lips and tugged at his shirt collar.
I thought for a moment. He definitely had crossed a line. But hadn’t I? I leaned into the kiss. I welcomed it. Hell, I’d jerked off to the guy at least three times.
“I don’t think you crossed any lines I didn’t want you to cross…” I muttered, suddenly afraid to look at him.
“Hm,” I heard him say. He leaned back on the desk behind him. “So, you don’t mind if I kiss you again?”
“No,” I admitted, finally looking up at him. My erection hadn’t gone away, and judging by the visible bulge in his pants, neither had his. “But the NDA and severance… Do you do this a lot?”
He thought for a moment. “No,” he said. “That’s not to say I don’t know how to get what I want. But it’s usually not like this. This is… different. You’re different.”
I could feel myself blushing. He was very flattering when he wanted to be, and not in the way one might expect from someone of his caliber. Subtle and sly, he knew just what to say to keep everyone on his hook.
He stood up, and before I knew it, his mouth was on mine again, and this time, I met his tongue with mine. He was a good kisser, intentional and never sloppy. At least, not yet. His hand slid from my waist to the front, and I felt his fingertips slide under the top of my pants. My belt was probably too tight, because his other hand left my face and he worked to undo my belt, button, and zipper.
Still locked at the lips with him, I undid his pants, and we both slid into one another’s briefs. His cock was hot, and it felt longer than mine. I noticed he had small let hands, though, as he grabbed my shaft and tugged at it. His free hand slid back up to my face, and we kept kissing and playing with each other for a few minutes.
Suddenly his phone rang on his desk, and he pulled away.
“Shit,” he hissed. “It’s probably my dad. Hold on.”
I watched him walk around his desk to his phone, his belt undone and undershirt untucked.
“Vic, Jr.,” he said as he picked up the receiver. I couldn’t hear the other person, but I listened to his responses anyway. “Yeah, I had some work to get done on the Sanford account. Mhm, yeah. Okay. Yeah, sure, Dad. Uh-huh. Okay, see you then. Yep, bye.”
He rolled his eyes and said, “I’m sorry. My dad needs me in his office shortly. Would you mind running and grabbing us coffee? Get yourself something, too. Put it on our account.”
And, like that, we both zipped up, and he ushered me to the door.
“Thanks for coming in early. Come see me on your lunch, okay?” He placed a hand on my ass and gave it a squeeze. Luckily the office was still empty as I walked, with my boner tucked in my waistband, to the elevator.