Nils strutted into the open-plan office like he owned the place, which he technically did as the 22-year-old prodigy boss. At barely five-foot-five with delicate features and a mop of blond curls, he looked more like a mischievous elf than a tyrant. Yet every morning he found new ways to demean Max, his 25-year-old subordinate. Max towered over him at six-foot-three, all broad shoulders and rippling muscle from years at the gym, but he had endured the daily humiliations with stony silence.
Today Nils leaned over Max’s desk, smirking. “Still can’t get the reports right, big guy? Maybe if your brain matched those biceps you wouldn’t be such a disappointment.” The jab drew chuckles from nearby colleagues. Max’s jaw tightened, but he simply nodded. Inside, however, something finally snapped. He had taken enough.
That evening, after everyone left, Max locked the door and cornered Nils in the executive lounge. “You’ve had your fun, boss. My turn.” Nils laughed, a sharp, mocking sound. “You? Touch me? Don’t make me laugh, muscle-head.” Max stepped closer, voice low and steady. “You think height and a title make you untouchable? Let’s see how untouchable you feel when I bend you over that couch.”
Nils’s eyes flashed with surprise, then challenge. “Try it and I’ll have you fired before you zip up.” Max grinned, grabbing Nils’s wrist. “Photos say otherwise.” He yanked the smaller man forward, spinning him and delivering a firm slap across Nils’s ass. The sound cracked through the room. Nils gasped, cheeks flushing. “You bastard—do that again and—” Another slap landed, harder. “You’re sweating already,” Max taunted. “Horny little tyrant.”
Nils twisted, trying to shove back, but Max pinned him easily. Their bodies pressed close; Max’s cock was already hard against Nils’s ass. “Feel that? Been waiting months to shut you up.” Nils spat a witty retort. “Big talk from a subordinate who can’t even file expenses. Bet that cock is as average as your work ethic.” Max laughed, yanking Nils’s trousers down. “Let’s test that theory.” He slapped Nils’s ass again, watching the pale skin redden.
Nils panted, struggling with genuine strength, but Max’s grip held. “You’re dripping already, boss. Your tight little pussy is betraying you.” He slid fingers between Nils’s cheeks, finding him wet with reluctant arousal. Nils hissed, “Call it that again and I’ll—” Max pushed two fingers inside, curling them. Nils moaned despite himself. “Fuck you,” he growled, voice husky. Max pumped slowly, building heat. “Not yet. First you’re going to suck my cock like the mouthy brat you are.”
He freed his thick shaft. Nils glared up but dropped to his knees, defiant. “This proves nothing.” Yet he took Max’s cock into his mouth, tongue working with surprising skill. Max groaned, threading fingers through blond curls. “That’s it—blowjob royalty on his knees.” Nils sucked harder, eyes watering, but pulled back to retort, “Your cum better taste better than your excuses.” Max hauled him up, bending him over the arm of the couch.
He drove in with one thrust, burying his cock deep in Nils’s ass. Nils cried out, half pain, half pleasure. Max set a punishing rhythm, slapping Nils’s ass with each thrust. “Take it, you arrogant fuck.” Nils pushed back, strong thighs flexing. “Harder, coward—show me what you’ve got.” Sweat slicked their skin. Max reached around, stroking Nils’s cock. “Panting like a bitch in heat.” Nils came first, cum spilling over Max’s fist with a sharp shout. Max followed, flooding Nils’s ass, then snapped photos with his phone—Nils flushed, dripping, ass red from spanks.
Max pulled out, leaving Nils panting and spent. “These stay between us… for now.” Nils straightened, voice still sharp despite the tremble. “You think this ends it? Game on, Max.” Max smirked, tucking himself away. “Looking forward to round two, boss.”
The photos burned in Max’s pocket like a promise of darker games ahead.
Want to know how it ends?
This is just the opening chapter. Continue the saga - or write a steamy tale starring you.