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A reminder of who's the boss

"I learn to treat my boss with respect and keep my job."

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I was married in September 1996 and these true events took place in March of the same year. I’ve had to change some names for obvious reasons.

I was working for a family run engineering distributor that had four branches in the south of England. All the branches were managed by a member of the same Richmond family. The branch I worked at, in Maidenhead, was run by the youngest son, Michael.

I was 26 years old at the time and Michael would have only been in his thirties. His father had an office at our branch, and any family board meetings would always take place here. Whereas the rest of the Richmond family seemed very formal and stuffy, I always found Michael to be down to earth and good fun. He had a shock of blonde hair, and although he was very well spoken, you could enjoy a laugh with him. My own over familiarity with Michael did sometimes make me forget he was the boss, and he did occasionally have to tell me to speak to him with a bit more respect, particularly in front of others. I enjoyed working for Michael, and although he had a reputation for being difficult and moody, it was not something I had experienced.

During the weeks leading up to this particular event, the branch had entertained the family more frequently than usual and there seemed to be an air of bad news around the place. Everyone within the company knew we weren’t doing very well and the rumour mill had begun to speculate on which branch might be closed down. I was getting married in less than six month’s time, so I was particularly concerned.

Unfortunately, it soon transpired that the rumours were mostly true. It was announced that there was to be a series of redundancies and although it would affect all branches, our branch employed an old guy called Patrick, who had decided to take voluntary redundancy. This seemed to keep the wolves away for the time being. I had been with Richmond’s for nearly ten years and knew the business inside out. I was therefore flattered, but not surprised, when Michael asked me if I would accompany him to the branch in Essex, to train up some of the staff in stock control. Without boring you with the details, our branch had the lowest stock value and highest stock rotation, so I was seen as the Champion for the company in this area.

My wife to be wasn’t overly happy with me being away from home once a week for the next month, but we were both so relieved that I had kept my job, we weren’t going to kick up a fuss.

Michael and I stayed in a Bed & Breakfast, not far from the Essex branch and although it wasn’t at all grand, it had a small bar area downstairs and we spent the evening drinking and putting the world to rights. Michael was very honest about his own capabilities, and as we both got slowly drunk he opened up about feeling like he was a disappointment to his Father. The company had been in the family for three generations and this was the first time in over fifty years, the business had been in financial difficulty.

“I think you’re a good boss, Michael,” I told him reassuringly.

“Because I’m soft with you, you mean?” Michael asked.

“I don’t mean that at all. I think we make a good team,” I replied.

“You wouldn’t have said that if I’d have made you redundant!” Michael said.

“But the business wouldn’t survive without me,” I joked.

“My Father thought it would,” Michael replied, in a serious tone.

Michael went on to tell me how his Father thought I was a joker, a bad influence on the business and on Michael. If Patrick hadn’t had put himself forward for voluntary redundancy, I was the one who would have been chosen. I was completely dumbstruck. I hardly slept that night, and it quickly dawned on me that if the business didn’t improve and more redundancies were needed, my head would clearly be on the chopping block.

I decided on a plan of action that included me working harder, and also adopting a more serious and business like attitude at work. I also needed to remain close to Michael, who wouldn’t necessarily defy his Father’s orders, but did seem to stick up for me.

The following week, we sat there again, in the same bar.

“You alright Leighton?” Michael asked. “You haven’t seemed yourself this week,”

“I’m fine. After what you said last week about your Father’s opinion of me, I thought I had best get my head down and be less of a clown,” I replied.

Michael put his hand on my leg.

“You’re not a clown, you don’t need to change at all,” Michael replied.

We shared a look, that at the time, I thought was true friendship. With Michael opening up about his family to me and the time we were spending together, I remember feeling incredibly lucky to have a boss who saw something in me that I often didn’t see in myself.

I relaxed more after this second evening and although I was still trying to impress Mr Richmond, Senior, I began to look forward more and more to my Wednesday evenings with Michael. This third evening was more like old times, and both me and Michael took the piss out of each other and rather than a boss and his subordinate, it was just two mates getting drunk.

I was a little disappointed when my fourth and final evening away with Michael arrived. The redundancies had all been made by then and although the general mood of the company hadn’t improved, my own outlook was feeling far more positive. However, as Michael drove us into Essex on this particular morning, he seemed more stressed than I had ever seen him.

“You alright Mike?” I asked.

“It’s Michael, not Mike,” He snapped. “I’m not bad, I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” he replied.

I didn’t pursue the conversation at this point, mainly because I didn’t want to. I began to wonder whether I’d been used to train up the staff, before the company got rid of me. The final day in Essex was less becoming less enjoyable than I had hoped.

When we arrived at the Bed and Breakfast in the evening, we headed to the bar. We usually had one drink in the bar, before going back to our rooms to get changed. With the mood being what it was and neither of us feeling particularly talkative, we sat there and consumed more than a few before it was even 7 o’clock.

“I’m going to go back and get showered and changed,” I finally said.

“I’m probably not going to join you this evening,” Michael replied. “I’ve got quite a lot of work to do,”

“Whatever!” I snapped. Walking back to my room.

As I lay on my bed, I was now positive I was going to be made redundant. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had been used for my knowledge, until Michael could get rid of me. The thoughts spinning around my head were making me more and more pissed off. I decided that I needed to vent my feelings and get clarification on what was going to happen to me. I left my room and walked down the short corridor to Michael’s room.

I knocked on the door but got no answer. Knocking again, I still got no answer. This made me even more annoyed, and I went back downstairs to the bar to see if he was still there. He wasn’t! I went back upstairs, now more frustrated than ever and thumped hard on his door.

Finally, Michael answered, standing there in a white robe.

“What’s going on?” he asked in drunken confusion.

Without thinking clearly, I barged past him and began ranting.

“Slow down,” Michael said. “I don’t understand a word you’re saying!”

“You’re going to get rid of me aren’t you?” I replied. “You’re going to sack me?”

Michael looked at me and then looked down at the floor.

“I may need to make someone else redundant at Maidenhead. That’s true,” he answered.

“And your Dad wants it to be me! Just stand up to him!” I shouted.

“It’s my decision!” Michael shouted back.

“You want to get rid of me?” I replied, confused.

Michael walked towards me and put his hand on my shoulder.

“I don’t want to. I just think it would be easier,” he replied.

“Easier? For who?” I asked.

I had bought my own hand up to remove Michael’s arm from my shoulder, but as I looked at him, he looked so sad. I found my own hand resting on his arm, almost comforting him.

“I think we’re too close, and I don’t find it easy to manage you,” Michael replied.

“I don’t understand,” I said.

I looked at Michael. Our arms were still resting on each other. I looked down at Michael in his robe. In his panic to answer the banging on the door, he had clearly thrown the robe on. For the first time since entering his room, I saw that his robe didn’t quite meet and as I looked down, I could see his thigh and the outline of his cock against the thin material. As I looked at it, his cock twitched. I looked back up at Michael, who could see me staring.

Our eyes met, and without needing to say anything else, I finally understood what he was talking about. I’ve thought about this particular moment a lot. I’ve often wondered whether it was self-preservation and whether I was thinking of a way to keep my job or whether I was just lost in the moment. I looked back down at the floor and brought my other hand up between Michael’s legs, and through the thin toweling material of his robe, I began to stroke his cock.

Michael’s cock immediately hardened in my hand, and with neither of us saying anything, I continued to stroke him. We were both looking down at my hand working on his manhood. I bought my other hand down from Michael’s arm and began undoing the strap on his robe. As it fell open, I saw Michael’s cock for the first time. He had very light blonde pubic hair, which was barely noticeable against his skin. I pulled back his foreskin fully over the head of his cock and Michael groaned loudly. I continued to stroke his cock, slowly but firmly, and became fully aware of my own erection forming in my trousers.

Michael rubbed the mound in my trousers, as we both continued to look down. He undid my flies, releasing my cock, and we began to masturbate each other. It would be reasonable to say that my mood was calmer by this time, and I knew, regardless of what the future held for me, I was going to enjoy this moment as much as I could. It felt as though we stood there for hours masturbating each other’s cocks, but in reality it was probably no more than ten minutes. Up until then, I would have described these events as incredibly sensual and almost romantic. What I was soon to realize and would realize many times after this evening, was that Michael had other ideas.

“You’re making me so fucking hard,” Michael exclaimed.

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Neither of us had spoken in this short time, so his words took me by surprise. It also occurred to me that I had never heard Michael swear. His family were very well spoken and I don’t think I had ever heard any of the Richmond family utter anything that might be considered vulgar.

“It looks beautiful,” I stammered, embarrassingly.

“What does?” Michael asked.

“You do,” I answered.

“You mean my cock, don’t you?” He replied, smiling.

I nodded.

“Tell me that then,” he demanded, firmly.

“Your cock looks amazing,” I told him.

“Have you ever done this before?” Michael asked.

I nodded again.

“How many times?” he asked.

I explained how I first sucked a cock when I was younger. I didn’t go into too much detail about this first experience, but I told Michael luridly about an old friend who I had sucked and masturbated many times. Michael loved me telling him about my past and his cock was getting even harder, pre-cum beginning to coat his engorged head.

His own grip on my cock became very tight and his strokes became short and sharp, almost causing me a degree of discomfort. I attempted to take his hand.

“Slow down,” I said.

“Why?” Michael replied.

“Just hurts a bit, that’s all,” I replied.

“I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here!” Michael replied.

I looked directly at Michael to gauge his tone. It wasn’t a Michael I had previously seen. He was certainly drunk, we both were, but he seemed to have an anger in him and I wondered whether I was the one who had been manipulated. I was certainly sure, at this moment, that I had lost control of the situation.

“Do you remember who the boss is?” He asked.

“Yes, of course,” I replied.

“I’m your fucking boss and you’re going to remember that,” Michael demanded.

“I will,” I told him.

“Sit on that chair,” Michael told me.

In the corner of the room was a burgundy tub chair, I walked towards it and sat down.

“Take your clothes off first,” Michael told me.

I stood up and began to undress. Michael fell back onto the bed, and as I undressed, he sat on the corner of the bed and slowly masturbated. I stood there, approximately two metres in front of him, embarrassed.

“Now sit down,” Michael told me.

Michael stood up from the bed and allowed his robe to fall from him. He walked towards me, his proud erection leading the way. He stopped, his cock no more than a couple of inches from my face. Michael gently stroked the side of my face and ran his hands through my hair. As he did so, he slowly gyrated his hips, so his cock circled closer in front of me.

“Open your mouth,” Michael asked.

I did as requested.

Michael’s strokes through my hair became firmer, and without warning, he grabbed a handful of my hair and brought my head down on his cock. I immediately gagged and tried to pull myself back, but with Michael stood above me, his strength was too much, I struggled as best I could, to relax and control my breathing.

Michael fucked my mouth roughly and without any consideration for me. He pushed the full length of his cock into my mouth until his pubic hair brushed my nose. Holding my head in place, he finally released his grip and I fell back in the chair, catching my breath. My saliva dripped from Michael’s cock and he walked backwards and once again sat on the bed.

I looked at him, half expecting an apology. It wasn’t offered.

“Crawl over here,” Michael told me.

I got up and walked towards him.

“I said crawl!” Michael shouted.

I got on my hands and knees and crawled the short distance to the bed. I looked down and could see my erection had not been affected by Michael’s change in tone.

Michael fell back on the bed, his feet still on the floor.

“Carry on,” he told me.

I knelt up in between Michael’s legs and took his cock once again in my hand. Michael closed his eyes as I began stroking him. I was very happy to be in a position where I could satisfy him more. Although I would learn over the next few months that Michael occasionally preferred to me rough with me, I was far more comfortable when I could impress him with my cock sucking capabilities. Although this situation is not ‘usual’, particularly when I was soon to be married, I had long since accepted my bisexual side, and knew that I would enjoy sucking cock for the rest of my life.

I stroked Michael’s cock and licked his exposed helmet, my tongue running over his wet slit. I alternated masturbating him fast into my mouth, with a slower pace when I would take all his length down my throat.

Michael’s sleepy groans assured me I was doing the right thing.

I moved my mouth down his shaft, flicking his frenulum with tongue, making his cock pulsate in my hand. I gently spread his legs, so I could suck on his testicles. With my head resting against his leg, I gripped Michael’s cock firmly and purposely masturbated him as I sucked on his balls, allowing my tongue to run down towards his arsehole.

Michael moved his hips from the bed, allowing me better access to his anus. I circled my tongue over his hole, moving it back and forth up to his testicles once more. All the while, wanking his hard cock.

Michael brought one leg up from the bed, and I pushed it further to one side, bringing my hard up to his arse. His wet hole offered little resistance as I pushed a finger inside him. Michael was bucking, his back arched, on the bed as I fucked him with my finger, licking and sucking his balls, masturbating his cock hard and fast.

My head was still resting on his leg and as Michael’s body went into a spasm, he let out a sharp groan.

“Oh fuck!” he shouted.

I felt the first jet of hot cum hit my cheek, and as I continued to masturbate him, I brought my head back up to his cock and caught a second load on my mouth. Instinctively, I opened my mouth and took Michael’s erupting cock back into my mouth, swallowing what he had left for me. I made sure I milked every last drop of cum from Michael, and as he looked down at me, he ran his fingers over my cheek and pushed them into my mouth, to clean the last remnants from my face.

I lay on the bed next to him and began to stroke my own cock, desperately needing the release.

Michael looked at me, his breathing still short, his cheeks still flush as he recovered from his orgasm. He hadn’t forgotten who was in charge.

He then made me do something I’ve never done since with anyone else.

Michael sat further up the bed and leant back against the head board. He lifted his knees up and allowed his legs to fall to either side.

“Kneel between me,” he told me.

I moved around the end of the bed and knelt between his legs, facing him.

“Masturbate for me,” he demanded.

It wasn’t the most comfortable position for me, but I knelt between his legs on the bed and masturbated my cock, while he watched.

“Tell me how many cock’s you’ve sucked?” he asked.

“You’re only the third,” I told him.

I continued to stroke my cock.

Michael looked disappointed with my answer.

“How many times then?” he asked.

“Oh, loads of times,” I answered.

Michael preferred this answer and I soon realized he liked me talking dirty to him.

“Carry on wanking and give me details,” he told me.

“I’ve sucked cock loads of times, and I’ve given hand jobs even more times than that. I love sucking cock and I love the taste of cum. I love being a cheap cock sucker,” I told him.

“You ever been fucked,” he asked.

I hadn’t and I didn’t want to lie to him.

“No. But I’ve used toys on myself and I’ve pushed my fingers into my tight arsehole,” I told him.

I was so desperate to cum, and as I looked down on Michael, I knew I wouldn’t last much longer.

“Do you eat your own cum?” Michael asked.

“I have done,” I told him honestly.

“I want you to cum over my cock,” Michael told me.

“OK,” I answered, eagerly.

“Do it now!” Michael told me.

I didn’t need telling twice, I masturbated furiously. Within seconds, I could feel the orgasm building in my feet, moving up my legs, before it was too much. My first shot of cum landed on Michael’s stomach and he repositioned himself, so the vast majority of my load landed over his softening cock and balls. Michael took what had landed on his stomach and rubbed it over the head of his penis.

My orgasm was so intense, I rested against Michael’s legs, before attempting to get up from the bed for more comfort.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Michael asked.

“What do you mean?” I asked, stupidly.

“You’re not finished yet,” Michael said.

I didn’t know what to say, so said nothing.

“You need to lick my cock clean!” He demanded.

I looked down at his cock, which glistened with my juices.

I pushed my legs back down on the bed, so I was now laying on my stomach. Resting on my elbows, I began to kiss Michael’s cock. I licked the shaft, tasting my own warm salty fluids. Again, Michael took charge of me. Grabbing the back of head, he directed me over his cock, over his balls and over his arsehole, as my cum dripped from him.

I didn’t go back to my room on this final night in Essex, and slept next to Michael in his bed. I awoke at the touch of Michael pulling me around onto my back. I stupidly wondered whether he was finally going to return some oral pleasure. Michael was far more interested in bringing his leg up over my chest and sitting across me so I couldn’t move.

I offered very little resistance as he pinned my hands down above me on the bed and forced his cock into my mouth. As my head fell between two pillows, I had no room to move, and Michael wasted no time at all in fucking my mouth and shooting his cum straight down my throat. Without saying a word he got off me and headed to the bathroom for a shower. I was left to pleasure myself, with the taste of Michael still in my mouth.

In the months that followed, I regularly sucked Michael whenever he demanded. After this time in Essex, I would typically be on knees in his office or the occasional time in his car.

He never wanted me to do any more to him than I’ve already described, and not once did he offer me the same pleasure. Sometimes he wanted to watch me masturbate and he liked to watch me pleasure myself with a vibrator, but even on these occasions he would always fuck my mouth when he was ready to orgasm, and not once did he offer, or seem to want, to taste me.

I never did lose my job through redundancy though, and I certainly never did forget that Michael was the boss ever again.

It was with regret that we didn’t keep in touch when the whole company finally closed in 1998.

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Written by Leighton
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