His Boss and Master

His Boss and Master

Tyler was never what you'd call a confident person; in fact, he was pretty sure he just wasn't born with that skill. Dead-end jobs, a stocky body he couldn't find enough time to trim, and every relationship seemed to implode before liftoff. But he was hoping this job would be different.

Tyler walked into the entrance of Walker, Hinds, and Belmont for the interview that would turn his life upside down in the best way possible. He was shocked that not only would he be interviewing for the receptionist job, but he'd be interviewed by Mr. Belmont himself.

"H-hi, I'm here for an interview? 10:30 with Mr. Belmont?"

"Oh, a punctual applicant? Mr. Belmont loves an eager beaver," the front desk receptionist giggled as she typed away at her keyboard.

"Tyler Dobie?" she continued as she looked up.

"That's me. Should I show my ID? Sorry, this is all very formal. I'm kinda new to big offices," Tyler said, trying to laugh off his nervousness as he did any time he asked a question.

"I'm not a bouncer, hun. If you get hired and it turns out I let Luke Fields in or something, I'm sure they'll catch that when you give us your information," she said dryly.

"I'll turn on the elevator; it's Belmont's personal one, as he's the partner most usually here. Take that up, and he'll see you waiting on the camera to buzz you in. Good luck, cutie," she said a bit more animated this time.

Tyler turned quickly to hide his imminent blushing. He was always bad at taking compliments and would erupt in a full-body blush like some repressed cartoon character. His first girlfriend called him a babe on their first date, and he turned beet red; his first college boyfriend told him how much he loved his fat ass, and Tyler was a total mess the rest of the night. His last partner would compliment him excessively just because they knew how poorly he took it. So, needless to say, Tyler rushed to the elevator at an inhuman pace to distract from the inevitable nervousness that was undoubtedly about to surface if he stayed with the receptionist any longer.

The ding of the elevator as it closed filled Tyler with a moment's reprieve from his nerves, but he was then left starstruck as the elevator ended its ascent to the most gorgeous lobby he had ever seen. Lavish paintings adorned the walls, all surrounding and staring at an ornate, pristine, and empty desk. Behind it, as if the desk was its last line of defense, were two truly beautiful double doors. Would this be his desk if he got this job? Would his life be spent being stared at by these numerous paintings, many of which seemed to feature bigger-boned, Rubenesque gentlemen in various stages of undress, all aside from the painting in the middle of the sea of chubby cocks and scantily clad men? For the painting that seemed to be the focal point was an anthropomorphic squirrel in a suit of armor astride a horse of purple hue.

It was immediately Tyler's favorite for the whimsy alone. He was first tempted to sit down in the receptionist's seat but thought it was too presumptuous, so he sat in the chair directly facing it on the other side of the desk. It was a little less impressive, but it fit with the office aesthetic. As soon as Tyler's ass had begun to make an imprint in the less impressive chair, a voice echoed from a sound system.

"Oh, you must be my 10:30? Tyler?" the hearty, burly-sounding voice asked.

"The...the wizard?" Tyler replied without thinking. He had been on his face rewatch of Wicked, so to say the material was fresh would be an understatement.

"Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain," the voice replied with a hearty chuckle infecting every word.

"I'm almost finished here, and I'll beep you in, Dorothy," he said as a cool, seductive tone took hold of the pronunciation of 'Dorothy.' At that, Tyler again felt his infectious blushing surging throughout his body. Get it together, he thought to himself as the beep of a tone and the click of a door mechanism jolted him from his inner turmoil.

As he opened the door, he was greeted with one of the most beautiful offices he had ever seen. The ornate design of the waiting room spread through to here as well, with a grand desk. Sitting on the edge of the table was an even more beautiful sight: Mr. Belmont. A burly model of a man with the most well-fitted suit for his body type, a salt-and-pepper beard encircling beautiful pinkish-red lips, horn-rimmed glasses, no doubt for protection from the steely blue piercing eyes behind them. What little hair was on the top of his head had no doubt migrated into his arms; even through a full suit, the fur could be seen poking near the wrists. Perfectly fitted pants accentuated the thighs of a well-worked and active bear of a man. The pants bulged in all the right areas, as if he was poured into them daily. Tyler spent what felt like minutes--hours even--drinking in every inch of the man before he interjected with a chuckle, "Do I somehow have my face bud?

"Oh, I'm s-sorry sir, no, no, I-I guess I should have looked you up before the interview. You don't look like I imagined," Tyler said, trying and failing to keep his composure.

"You imagined me? Oh, probably an interview prepper, huh? Well, bud, please sit down; I'll assume the position of formality for ya," he said, playing around with several of the words deviously.

Tyler sat down, faced Mr. Belmont, then immediately shot up, realizing he was offering his hand for a shake.

"It's very nice to meet you, sir. Thank you for the opportunity."

"Nice to meet ya and met, son."

"You have a beautiful office and a hell of a grip, top."

"Thank you, Tyler. Would ya mind if I had my hand back now though?" Belmont said with another chuckle. Tyler erupted in red, not realizing he hadn't broken the shake yet.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm just--I'm a hand thief, I guess," Tyler joked nervously.

"No worries, bud. I just have some things I want to do with that later, but you can definitely have it after," he said as he winked at Tyler and stared him up and down as he did so. "So tell me, Tyler, what's something you would bring to this position if I took you on?" he continued.

"Eagerness, sir. I'm ready to do whatever the job entails and show my worth to the company as well," Tyler said, noting a renewed focus in Mr. Belmont's stare. He noticed the hand he had just attempted to steal was now in his lap, probably scratching an itch or searching the desk drawer, as indicated by the slowed motion of his upper arm.

"Eagerness is a very important trait to have here; I hold it in the highest regard," he said, cooling but not breaking his focused stare at Tyler the entire time.

"I'm guilty of a few things when it comes to my receptionists, and one of those things is riding them a bit hard. There might be times you feel I'm on your ass, but that is just because I like to think I have good instincts for the people I employ and know what they can handle," he continued, sizing Tyler up with his stare, seeming to test his whole body for a reaction to his words.

"Can you handle me, Tyler?" he finished, oozing with a cool, sexy charisma.

Tyler was feeling hot in the face and all over, honestly, and he knew it showed. The words seemed utterly innocuous in context, but the stare he was getting made him feel like it was much more than it seemed. Searching for the right thing to say felt like digging through hot sand to find your favorite grain of it that you haven't met yet.

"Yes, Mr. Belmont, I can handle whatever you throw my way," Tyler said, powering through, finding the favored grain. At that, a slight jerk from Mr. Belmont's accounted-for hand knocked some papers off the side of his desk. Their glances met for Tyler to see an almost apprehension in Mr. Belmont regarding wanting to get up. Was this a test of some sort? Was he just really comfortable in that chair? The upper muscles of the hidden arm had started to take a more rapid use; after all, maybe he was still looking for something.

"Oh, I can get those, sir," said Tyler, and he left the chair and was on his hands and knees at the desk's side. Most of the papers looked blank and well-stacked, but Tyler still wanted them to be returned to a pristine stack again should it turn out this is an interview test of some kind. With great focus and determination, Tyler stacked each paper perfectly and evenly. As he craned his head upward, now noticing a shadow overhead, he was met with the perfectly tight pants of his interviewer directly in front of him. The bulge from earlier had definitely grown to an obscene size and was honestly in danger of destroying the pants entirely should they tighten any further.

"Sir, I- I'm- the papers are..." Tyler started but was lulled to silence as Mr. Belmont's formally missing hand caressed the bearded chin of Tyler's, his thumb tracing at his lips.

"Don't you worry about the papers, my eager boy; we're moving forward in this interview anyway," his thumb played with Tyler's lips gently but with a respecting force that Tyler couldn't break, even if he wanted to.

"What happens next then, Mr. Belmont?" Tyler said as some of his words forced him to taste Mr. Belmont's thumb. A notable musky flavor filled Tyler with a need for more.

"Only what you want to happen, my boy." At that, he took his massive hand and gently, but with purpose, moved Tyler's head to the desk.

"That button opens the door; no harm, no foul, but definitely no job. However, that button will lock the door, transfer all calls to automation, and the interview will continue without anyone to interrupt us," he said, turning Tyler's focus back to his bulging crotch. As if on its own, wanting this for every other part of Tyler's being, his hand darted to the button and rapidly pressed the lock button.

"Mmmm, there's that eager boy," Belmont said coolly as his thumb now rested in Tyler's willing mouth.

"Take off your clothes and fold them on that chair, and do it all very slowly; Master wants a show."

Tyler buzzed with ecstasy as Mr. Belmont gave him his instructions and was harder than he'd ever been, hearing him call himself Master.

Tyler stood up and slowly worked each button off his shirt, leaving his tank top half untucked as he folded the shirt and placed it on the chair. As if he were an NPC with a set path designed by programmers, Tyler took the exact path from the chair to the side of the desk in a fluid motion and then began to take his tank top off. The pale, stocky, lightly-haired chest of his was now on full display. Mr. Belmont seemed to drink in every inch of his body as he stood there, slowly unzipping his pants. The jiggle of his upper chest, in particular, seemed to really capture Belmont's full attention. As his pants dropped, Tyler only then realized he probably should have taken off his shoes and socks first. A wobbly balancing act then occurred in which Tyler almost lost his balance trying to get the shoes off while the pants were at his feet. A hearty chuckle escaped Mr. Belmont at this display.

"My, my, what a silly piggy you are, boy. Careful of those ruby slippers, Dorothy."

With a bit of effort and fueled by another pet name, Tyler freed his bare feet and placed everything on the chair, returning once more to his spot in his tighty whities.

His evident bulge left nothing more to the imagination, but still, Tyler slowly pulled the underwear off, revealing his swollen manhood. He was a respectable 6 inches with a favorable girth, though he always thought he'd like it thicker, his bulbous cock head poking out slightly from his foreskin.

"Uncut, eh? We have that in common then, and such a fat ass too? My piggie is a blessed lad," Mr. Belmont said, growling lightly with pleasure at Tyler's vulnerable nakedness. "On your knees, your face here now," he said, with the air of demanding, his hand indicating the 'here' was his crotch. With no hesitation to be found within him, Tyler began to crawl towards his commanded destination. He bent his knees upward enough for his head to meet Belmont's groin; a slight burning on his knees was felt in this position, but the pain melted away with the first huff of his boss's commanding musk.

"That's my good boy, that's my eager little slut. Breathe daddy in, you're gonna smell like me wherever you go when I'm done with you," At that, Tyler couldn't help but let out the meekest yet most pleasure-filled whimper. The bulge his face rested on began to pulse wildly at the whimpers. Master Belmont took grip of the top of Tyler's head and forced his face in deeper, rubbing his best toy all over his new favorite one.

"You want it bad, huh piggy? I really like the seductive aspect of things myself, but I can't lie," he said, trailing off and pulling Tyler's head back so he looked up at him to finish, "I can't wait till my fat dick makes you my whimpering cock slut," growling more with an even more focused look in his eye as he stared unblinkingly at his new property.

"But I'm the kind of boss who wants to know what his employees are thinking, so tell your master what you want," he finished, placing Tyler's face close to, but not directly back in, his engorged, trapped manhood.

"I think I really need this job, sir, and yet I want this more," Tyler said, nuzzling the massive bulge like a comfortable pillow after a long day's work. Tyler was completely and utterly lost in the intoxicating musk of the man before him. The musk filled him with a renewed confidence he hadn't felt ever. As if he would wage a thousand wars all at his Master's command just to receive his favor, and would do it proudly.

"Now, now baby, don't you worry, Master won't make you choose. You can be my assistant and worship this cock. In fact, I pretty much insist on it," Belmont said with sex appeal and an underlying tenderness peppering his every syllable.

"Stand up, piggy, you need to undress me; you need to breathe in every bit of my body before you're all mine."

Tyler stood with such speed and gusto that he felt a bit lightheaded as he rose, accompanied by a slight jiggle of his body as he did so. He was about to feel embarrassed by his appearance before catching a look of approval from Master Belmont as he drank in every inch of Tyler's body in his big hairy hands, playing with Tyler's chest where most of his body hair resided, tracing down and giving a little jiggle to Tyler's pudge and resting both hands at his sides.

"You know why these are called love handles, sweet piggy? So I have something soft to grip when I fuck you," he asked and answered playfully.

At that, Tyler reached for his Master's suit jacket, helping it fall to the ground. His arms seemed to stutter a bit as he wasn't sure, in his nervousness, whether he should start with the bottom buttons or the top. Settling on the top, as that's where the lush forest of hair resided, he quickly got to the first button, then the next, and the next. Finally, as every button lay defeated and as the shirt lay open, Tyler's prize was the most glorious sight he had ever laid his eyes on. The lush bit of hair poking out of the shirt didn't do him justice as Tyler ran his hands over the hairy chest, belly, and sides of his bear-blessed employer and master. Similar to his beard, his chest had a salt-and-pepper pattern to it, engulfing the whole body and retreating to his back too. Focal points in the forest of fur were two pink, protruding nipples, each adorned with a piercing. Tyler was absolutely lost exploring the beautiful body before him; he only jolted awake feeling an immense and pleasurable grip on his rock-hard cock. Master Belmont had gripped it tightly, squeezing up to the hood to wring out a nearly ridiculous amount of pre-cum.

"I was actually worried for a second you came, but God damn Piggy, do you always pre like this? Because I'm pretty sure I can lube your pussy up with your pre-cum alone," he said, playing with his prize before coating his pointer finger in it and presenting it to Tyler.

"Kneel and suck, Piggy."

As if those were his trigger phrases, Tyler flopped to his knees and took Master's pre-cum-drenched finger into his willing mouth. He had, of course, tried his cum in the past, as many do, but it had never tasted nearly as sweet as it did now, and the added salt of Belmont's finger made it an orgasmic experience if there ever was one. With the side quest over and done, Master Belmont removed his finger and, slowly, without breaking eye contact, dried the finger on his crotch. This was as loud of a command that didn't require a single utterance, and Tyler knew he was being told to renew his focus on the task at hand. Trembling slightly with anticipation, Tyler fumbled a bit at the trouser buttons but found his resolve and popped it free. Slowly, he unzipped his Master's pants and was hit with another concentrated wave of that intoxicating, demanding musk. Anything; Tyler would do anything for this man, his man. As the pants dropped, Tyler met face to face with a rainbow-pouched jock strap, barely containing the monster within, with little sticky wet patches present throughout.

"What can I say? I love colorful things and I'm known to pre a bit too," he said, playfully moving his tree trunk legs to make his pack jiggle more.

"It's time, my boy; free that cock and treat him right."

At that command, Tyler, overcome with excitement, gripped the sides of the jock and was fully smacked in the face with the fattest, longest cock he had ever laid eyes on--9, maybe 10 inches--a gloriously pre-cum drenched hood, protruding and prominent veins. He could already imagine teasing and tracing it with his tongue, and it all, in its splendor, cold cocked him on the side of the face. At this display, Belmont again let out a little chuckle, and Tyler couldn't help but join in.

"I mean, I wanna smack your face with it, but not when you aren't expecting it," he laughed more. The massive cock too seemed to join in on the laughter as it gyrated and twitched with its owner's laughter.

"Suck my cock, piggy; it's been waiting for you, clearly," Mr. Belmont continued as he rediscovered his desire to take Tyler as his own. At that, Tyler's lips slowly welcomed as much of the monster in as he could. As he sucked and moved his lips back down, a gush of pre-cum remained in his mouth--a first of undoubtedly many treats. There was a similar sweetness, but also flavored with the essence of Master's musky cock. The flavor could only be described as: right. It simply just tasted right. With more and more confidence filling him as the pre-cum and cock invaded more and more of Tyler's body, he found himself taking Master in deeper and deeper. As he gagged to get the full length in his throat before removing it to catch his breath, he was sure the hefty prick was somehow getting harder and harder. It was obvious Master was enjoying every bit of this display, and in particular the gagging.

"That's my boy, that's my piggy, fucking gag on Master's fat dick; feel it changing you. Every second, you become more and more of my willing cock slut," he monologued in a tone that only egged on Tyler's hunger.

"We'll have to get up pretty early most days, and you'll have to stay over 'cause I have a very specific wake-up routine in mind for you." He chuckled deviously as he pushed his cock down Tyler's willing throat, keeping his head still as he continued, "I'm not much for an alarm clock; an alarm cocksucker though," he said, pulling Tyler off his slick hog.

"Does my little piggy want that? I need my piggy; tell me what you want!"

"I-I-I want, no, need this cock, Master, as much as I can get it."

This was clearly the right answer, as Belmont rewarded Tyler with another invasion of his throat.

"That's what you'll get then, piggy. Now get this cock nice and slick 'cause I'm ready to cum, and there's only one place I do that on the first session. Do you know where that is, boy?" he growled, pulling Tyler off once more.