Chris Walsh was used to getting what he wanted. And at this point in his life, he felt he should. He had gotten what he wanted since high school. After his acne had cleared up, his hormones had kicked in "big time," and "Wussy chrissy" became a STUD: by the time he graduated high school, he was nearly his full height of 6'1". He hadn't bulked up to the 195 he was now, 12 years after college, but he was a solid 180. Chestnut brown hair, killer blue eyes, a peach like complexion, and a smile: the killer smile. THAT's what normally got him what he wanted. It had worked with the former president of the company, Wendy Shaw. Her father had been the CEO, and he sold the company about six months ago to some "whiz kid" named Bill Winks. Since then, three of the promotion requests Chris had put in, had been denied. One of them had gone, unquestionably, to someone who was more qualified for the position, but the other two had not. Now, after waiting three weeks for an appointment, he sat outside the office of President Winks, waiting for his meeting. He had prepared: the word was that Winks was gay, and pretty much a "monk". Chris had tried the "gay thing," and he still used it when he needed it. After all, who wouldn't want a shot at this stud and his 8 inches of thick, cut meat? To emphasize his point, Chris had "dressed for success": a pale blue shirt that set off his eyes, tailored "just right," a pair of khakis that would be indecent if they were just a tad tighter, and a loosened, silk necktie. He sucked in his gut: the years of working out had done him good. He had a massive chest that had taken more than one tongue from more than one gay guy. In high school, "what he wanted" was fairly simple: he talked his parents into getting him his first car (used, but a car nonetheless), and on the cafeteria line, he could be counted on to smile at the service person and somehow get "just a spoon more" of his favorite foods. In classes, teachers gave him the benefit of the doubt more often than not, and in the gym, a smile and an "excuse me, would you mind if I worked through?" would always get him the piece of equipment he wanted. Everyone in high school had a crush on him, especially little Billy, the equipment manager on the football team. Dare we say that Chris was the quarterback? One day, when Billy was cleaning up after a practice, Chris couldn't help but notice that Billy was staring at his nakedness. His tongue all but hung out. Chris turned around and laughed silently: he had seen that look on Billy before. The guy clearly had a crush on him. Billy was the school nerd: bad skin, thick glasses, uneven teeth, but a whiz at science. When the physics teacher, Mr. Wheeler, was sick, the school would have Billy teach all levels (there were three). Chris had been in class with him: Chris wanted to be a computer engineer when he was in college, and so physics was important. He would wink at Billy, wait until the nerd was staring at him and then run his hand over his crotch, and just about make Billy miserable every way he could. Billy went from loving it when he student taught, to hating it. Hanging around the locker room was different though, and there were always more guys. Today, though, it was just Chris and Billy. And Chris was horny.
"Hey, willy billy," Chris called out, using the nickname everyone used on Billy. "Got a proposition for you." "yyyyyyy yes?" Billy asked, and Chris laughed (I forgot to mention Billy's stutter). "No one's around. How's about.... " He stood up, and held his cock out in the air. "Ever suck one of these?" "nnnnnn...nnnnno. I ... I...." Chris was smiling. "How about a deal, willy? You suck me, I suck you? You think you'd like that?" "Uh.... uh.... ok... who goes first." "You do Willly. You suck me, then I'll suck you." Billy smiled. "Ok. Let me get a towel to kneel on. I don't... I don't want to get my pants dirty." Chris sat on one of the benches. Billy put down the towel, and Chris directed him: it was the first time Billy had ever sucked cock and, as Chris remembered it, he wasn't very good. What was that line his dad had used once: "any port in a storm?" Chris didn't want to spoil another pair of briefs with cum: his mother was getting angry about it, and if he could deposit it in Billy's mouth, well... Chris closed his eyes. He thought back to the FINE blowjob Becky had given him on their last date. "DAMN. That bitch did my cock right" he smiled, and heard Billy choking. He laughed. "Gotta finish the job Willy. Treat it like a calculus problem." Willy did his best and, with a little help from Becky, soon he was trying to swallow Chris' big, thick load. For Chris, it was nothing special, but he was empty. "My turn," Billy said, using the towel to wipe off his lips, and getting up to move to the bench. Chris began to laugh. "In your dreams Willy. In your dreams." "HEY. HEY. YOU PROMISED. YOU PROMISED." Chris shrugged his shoulders. "Life's a bitch Willy and so are you." He turned to his locker to start dressing, as Billy began ranting. "YOU LIKED TO ME. YOU TOOK ADVANTAGE. YOU. YOU..." He heard the voice of Mal Philips behind him. "Anything wrong Chris? " Chris laughed. "Yeah, there is. Willy nilly over here just sucked me off and now he wants to know why he can't get reciprocation." Mal looked at Willy "You sucked off Chris?" "Yeah, I did . And he promised...." He didn't get to finish. "Well, you gotta treat the team equally nelly. I could use one too." "Yeah , me too," added Adrian Shell, their best linebacker. "Dont' forget me. " Sean Diamond came up. Willy was surrounded by the three guys, and Chris. There was no escaping. "I'd get to it if I were you Willy nilly. Maybe you'll do one of them better than you did me." Billy thought about trying to escape, but he knew it was hopeless. "Can I just take my glasses off?" Mal laughed. "Put em here. Right over my cock." He grabbed Billy's glasses and put them on the base of his hard penis. "GET TO WORK." It took nearly an hour, and while he was retching in the bathroom, the team got dressed and left. For the first time in his four years at school, Billy was out sick the next day.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx At the end of the year, Chris had good grades, but not great ones. His guidance counselor, Ms. Fleming, knew that if she could arrange in person meetings, Chris' charm would get him into one of the better schools. It did, and he went to the state technical school to study computer engineering. What combination of academics and extracurriculars got him his A- GPA, we will never know; but after college, he was recruited to a major security firm. The firm did everything related to security: they had architects who designed prisons, they had code developers, and encryption people, everything. Chris went into the programming division. Again, some combination of brains and extracurriculars moved him up to a middle level position fairly easily. And at night, Chris alternated: he dated women, he screwed around with men. He had no problem either way. There was always a woman ready to spread her legs, and always a man ready to get down on his knees.
Billy's grades were superlative. Ms. Fleming knew that, in contrast to Chris, Billy would have no problem in getting into some of the best schools. The only thing was: how to train him NOT to talk himself out of an offer. She focused him on schools that looked more at numbers than anything else. It was the right call and Billy got offers from Cal Tech, and MIT. No one at that high school had ever gotten offers from both. Both schools offered him a free ride. For Billy, who hated flying, the choice was clear: he could get to MIT by train and off to MIT he went. He excelled there. He finished in 3 years instead of four, and then went into their doctoral program in artificial intelligence. With no social life to speak of, he buried himself in the lab, and was a star in a school filled with stars. What set Billy apart though, was an appreciation he developed, of commercial applications. His project, in one of his lab seminars, led to a system that could control a house completely: check for oven gas leaks for example, and turn them off. Turn on an air conditioner two hours before the home owner came home. Automatically dispense food to pets. It was an incredibly complex system which Billy managed to pack into one small control device. It was expensive: the company he formed while he worked toward his doctorate just couldn't keep up. The money rolled in and, before he knew it, Billy was more than a millionaire. He was one of the new "tech giants." He was smart enough to hire people who understood money better than he did, and one day, his advisor, Larissa Conlin, sat him down. "Billy, I'll lay it on the line. If you don't expand, you're going to fail. People are getting more than a little upset about the delay in their orders." Billy understood. "Well, yeah, I get it. But how do we do that?" Larissa had a suggestion. "You know Wendell Shaw, the security guy?" "SURE! I looked at some of his stuff in my classes. He's..." she cut him off. "The only thing about him relevant to you, Billy, is that he's exhausted and he wants out of the game. He'd sell his company if the right offer were proffered." Larissa looked over her glasses. "And you have the means to make the right offer." A frantic three months followed, and Shaw Systems became Winks Solutions. "By the way, Billy: you're a CEO and company president now: your name is William or Will . Will Winks sounds a lot more savvy than Billy Winks."
And Chris was sitting outside of Dr. Winks' office that afternoon. Will's secretary, Sharon Mason, came out to greet Chris. Yes, she remembered him: great lay, but only one. "Chris? " she smiled. "Dr Winks will see you now." Chris gave her his smile. "Thanks Sharon. Your number is still.... isn't it?" Sharon smiled "Why yes, it is. Gimme a call sometime. " "Will do babe. Will do." Chris went into the office.
He didn't recognize Billy, for good reason. Larissa knew the kind of environment her friend was getting into, and she had worked on him getting cataract surgery so he didn't need the "bottle bottom" glasses. Then, because she knew about Billy's phobia about gyms, she got him to take private swimming lessons. He had enough money to be at the natatorium by himself with his instructor. Again, because Larissa knew Billy so well, she had women teach him. She thought, correctly, that a young CEO needed to at least have a toned body. It took work: Billy was notorious for his bad eating habits, but it got done. Billy was never going to be an Adonis, but with a professional haircut, capped teeth, the eye surgery and the toned body - plus the wardrobe that her lover Connie had picked for "Will," Larissa was proud to be the CFO at the company.
Sharon brought Chris into Will's office. He stood up and shook Chris' hand. "What can I do for you , Chris?" "Well, Will, if I can call you that" "I'd rather you didn't. I prefer. Dr. Winks" (more coaching from Larissa). Chris took a deep breath. This was going to be harder than he thought. "Ok, Dr. Winks. I apologize. I asked to see you because, well... I feel that the company is not doing right by me." "Do you?" Will asked. "And how is that the case? Explain it to me." "Well.... Dr Winks. It seems that I get rejected for every promotion I apply for." "Are you not happy with your job, Chris?" "Well, no, it's not that Sir, it's just that..." Will smiled. "It was all easy before I took over and now... it's just harder than you thought it would be." Chris blushed. "That's a way to put it Dr. Winks." "hmmmm. " Will had opened a folder on his computer. "I have your records here, Chris. Seems you climbed up the old ladder a lot faster than usual. How'd that happen?" He turned to Chris with an icy stare. "Uh. I think... I think it's my people skills Sir." He saw Will smile when he said Sir. "To use your phrase, that's a way to put it, Chris. Now let me see: well, yes, now I remember. Chris, with all due respect, you were completely unqualified for two of those positions." "I get that Sir. But the third one. " Will was silent for a minute, as he formulated his words. "I agree with you, you were qualified for that position, and under normal circumstances, you'd have at least gotten a second interview, but..." "Under normal circumstances? Dr. Winks, I'm sorry, I don't understand."
Will laughed. "You will. Let me pull something out to show you." Will reached into his desk and pulled out a flat blue volume. Chris recognized it as his high school year book. He had one somewhere, but he hadn't looked at it in years. "I remember the blue and white Sir. How'd you get a copy?" "Turn to page 76." Chris did. It was a photo of the members of the Physics club. He saw Billy Winks in his ill fitting short sleeve shirt, his thick glasses, his uneven smile, at the center of the photo. He read the names: "B Winks." It took a minute and then, Chris' analytical mind kicked in. "OH. OH . You're Billy Winks, Sir." "Nope. No more. Now I'm Dr. Will Winks. The boy who's mouth you fucked all those years ago." Chris loosened his tie and began to sweat. "Sir, I mean Dr. Winks..." "Sir will do Chris." "We were.. we were all kids then. We all change." "Not all of us Chris." Will smiled. "I spoke to some of the people whom you've met in your climb to the middle." "Climb to the middle" stung Chris. "Are you saying, Sir, that as long as I stay here, I'm not going to advance?" "Hmmmm. Not exactly Chris. I'd say.... Let me choose my words correctly. I'd say that there are some outstanding student debts that require payment before we can clear your account, and then consider advancement." "Sir, does that mean...." "It means 9pm my house tonight. Bring a change of clothes. " When Chris' mouth dropped, Will smiles. "It's interest. It accumulates." He got out of his seat. "Is there anything else Chris?" "No Sir. I think you've been very clear." "GOOD. I'll expect you tonight." As Chris left, he buzzed to Sharon. "Sharon, Chris is supposed to be bringing me his notes of a project he's working on tonight. Please make sure he has my address." "Yes Will. I'll email him right now." She laughed as she thought about that. "notes of a project he's working on." Will needed to either get a better line, or realize he could trust her. She'd speak to Larissa. Larissa had the best link to him.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx "I'm fucked. I'm truly fucked" Chris thought as he drove to Will's home. "Or I'm GONNA get fucked." He knew the first one was accurate, but what about the second? Billy - oops, he had to start thinking in terms of SIR and Dr. Winks - had told him to bring a change of clothes. He had a business casual outfit in a suit bag - a white shirt, navy pants, dark socks, loafers - which he assumed meant he was spending the night. He had dressed in a tight fitting white t shirt and jeans. One woman had called it his "male escort uniform," and he figured it would help him with what was about to happen. Will's home was gated. There was an attendant who stopped him "Good evening I'm Chris Walsh" The uniform looked at a list. "Please proceed. Dr Winks is expecting you. The house is straight ahead. " Chris drove about another 1/4 mile before he saw the MANSION where his boss lived. He found a space in an empty area called "guest parking," took his gear out of the car, and shaking a little, went to the door . A housekeeper let him in. "Mr Walsh? Good evening. I'm Sarah. Please come in." He saw Sarah walk off and he heard her announce his name in another room. He heard Will's voice. "Thank you Sarah. Thank you for staying. Please feel free to go home whenever you like." Sarah came out and smiled at Chris. "Through that door Mr. Walsh. Let me take this for you." She took the suit bag. "I'll hang it for you. It will be ready when you are finished. Have a good night Sir." Trembling, Chris went in through the door. He saw Will, looking over a shelf of leather lined books. His hands were in his pockets, and he turned around. "You didn't chicken out Chris. You surprise me." "Well...." "Let's not waste time Chris. We'll have time to talk. For now, it's time to start paying the debt. " Will led him over to a small area where there was a large chair, and a small footstool. Chris looked at it. Was it lined with... "Yes, Chris. It's the towel you had me kneel on. Turnabout is fair play. " Will unzipped his pants. "Kneel. Get your mouth on my cock. And ... put your hands behind your back so I don't have to cuff them." Chris looked up and he saw that there WAS a pair of handcuffs on the table next to Will. "One second. You're new to this, and stubborn. I no longer am. " Will picked up what Chris saw was a leather collar. "Put it on and give the end to me." "Hey, wait a minute Sir. I mean." "I SAID PUT THE COLLAR ON AND GIVE THE LEASH END TO ME. WHAT WAS HARD TO UNDERSTAND ABOUT THAT?" "nothing Sir" Chris whispered. He did what he was told. "Now if you pull back, or you're not swallowing enough, I'll pull it forward. If you began to gag at an appropriate time, I'll release the pressure. Now... get to work." Chris tried to remember all the blow jobs he had gotten from women, men... this was the first one he had ever given. He tried with the best technique he had. He didn't feel Will getting harder. Instead, his neck got pulled forward. "PITIFUL. I HOPE TO SHIT YOU'RE A BETTER GODDAMN CODER THAN A COCKSUCKER. IF YOU CAN'T DO ANY BETTER, WE'LL MOVE TO SOMETHING ELSE." "Sir, this is new to me, and I'm.. I'm scared. I'm.." ' "WE'LL MOVE TO SOMETHING ELSE. GET UP BITCH" Will got up, zipped his pants and pulled the leash. Chris couldn't get up. He had to put down his hands and walk like a dog, as Will pulled him. When they got close to one of the walls in the room, Chris saw that there were restraints built into it. Will pulled until Chris stood up. "Now... GET YOUR WRISTS LEVEL WITH THOSE CUFFS." " yes sir," Chris whispered. He hadn't planned on this. Will locked the cuffs. Then he pulled a small scissor out of his pocket and cut two holes in Chris' t shirt, one over each nipple. "Something from the office. Almost useless as we go to paperless, but a marvelous way to establish control." Chris saw that Will had two of the clips they used to hold paper together. He put one and then the other on Chris' nipples. Chris howled, and he saw Will laugh. "Sound proof walls, Christopher. No one can hear you suffer. Unlike the gym so long ago." Will began to flick the clips up and down . Soon, Chris had gone from yelling, to whimpering. "Please sir, it's. it's..." "It's what chris? It hurts." "yes sir." "AWWWWWW. Poor baby." Will pulled both of them off, and the blood rushing back made them hurt more. Will unhooked Chris' jeans, and as they slid down, Chris' hard on poked out. "Well, well. It looks like someone is "stimulated." Chris had been so nervous he didn't realize that he was getting hard. Now, he was no longer "getting " hard. He WAS hard. "I bet... I bet that if we had a contest as to who shot further, I would win Chris." "You probably would Sir." "So let's do this. We'll both shoot. Whoever shoots further, fucks the other one." Chris felt his hard on dropping. "I.. I don't think I can Sir." "Then I guess I win by default" Will laughed, and Chris squirmed in the ropes. "Please Sir. Please. I've never been butt fucked before." Will smiled. "You won't be my first cherry Chris. Don't worry. I'm gentle." Then he sneered. "Actually , I'm not. We can get you a standing desk for the office though. Until I decide to make you my fucking house boy." "NO SIR. PLEASE. PLEASE. NOT THAT.. PLEASE." Will undid the restraints and pointed toward the bedroom. "Your clothes are in there. So is the bed. Get undressed. I need to clean up this room a bit, and when I come into the bedroom I expect to find you buck naked and face down on the bed." Defeated, chris found the bedroom. He saw his clothes taken out of the bag and hung neatly, his shoes polished and left by the side. He took off his spoiled t shirt, and his jeans. He peeled off his jock. Then his dress socks. He heard Will walking toward the bedroom, and resigned himself to what was going to happen. He lay face down on the bed.
TO BE CONTINUED.