The Second Time My Boss Handcuffed Me in His Office

After what had happened at Ricardo’s house, I was the one who couldn’t look Carmen in the eye. I felt I had betrayed her, even though our relationship had always been open and liberal. But what we did was agreed upon, discussed, done together. And I had let my direct boss in the security service fuck my ass without telling her. It was true that the first time had been almost by force, almost blackmail, but I couldn’t lie to myself: I had enjoyed it like a bitch in heat.

I was tempted to tell her. In the end, I decided to keep quiet. The days passed and Ricardo, foolishly thinking so, seemed to have forgotten about it. I thought his lust had been satisfied. I didn’t know that it hadn’t even come close, and that the man had no limits.

One afternoon, while I was finishing lunch, my phone rang. Two messages from Ricardo, one after the other.

—Come to work clean this afternoon.

—And I don’t mean from the shower, ha, ha, ha.

Just reading it made the hair all over my body stand on end. The possibility of feeling again what I had felt the previous time got my cock hard in a second. I was alone at home: Carmen had gone to Zaragoza with our daughter for a minor procedure. I could do it, yes. But I had nothing to give myself the internal rinse he was asking for, and I wasn’t sure I knew how to do it myself, either. The first time, he had done it for me, with equal parts patience and sadism.

And on top of that, at work? During working hours? I couldn’t be that stupid. Or could I?

***

The building where I work is well situated, right in the center of Valencia, with two entrances: one to the parking area reserved for the bosses and another from the street, for the staff. There are eight of us permanent guards, plus three floaters the company sends around so it won’t have to pay overtime. We work twelve-hour shifts, two a day. I usually come in at seven or leave at seven, depending on the schedule. The director’s office, Don Ramón’s, is on the second floor, and Ricardo’s is right next to it.

When I got to the locker room to take over the shift, it was already half past six. Alfonso, the outgoing colleague, was waiting for me fully dressed.

—Emilio, Ricardo wants you to go up to his office.

—Fuck, is he still around?

—He said something about you having something for him.

—Yeah, something about a bottle for a birthday —I lied on the spot—. An acquaintance of ours sells drinks and gets good prices.

—Well, he’s waiting for you. He told me to let you know as soon as you arrived.

I finished buttoning my regulation uniform more slowly than necessary. As I climbed the stairs to the second floor, a thousand thoughts spun through my head. What was I turning into? The little slut of a horny fifty-year-old? And what the fuck was I going to do with Carmen if this continued? I could report him, smash his face in, tell the company he was harassing me. But Ricardo had powerful connections in the party and the union. He could really screw me, and not in the way I was beginning to enjoy.

And on top of everything, the absolute truth: the first time, he had opened me up with such mastery that he had made me come without touching my cock. The best orgasm I could remember in my thirty-eight years.

—Good afternoon.

I jumped. I was so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t seen Ricardo waiting for me in an armchair in the second-floor reception area.

—Good afternoon, Ricardo.

—Come with me.

He opened Don Ramón’s office door and walked in as calmly as could be. I stayed in the doorway.

—Come on, get in. Don’t just stand there. Come in and slide the bolt.

—What if the director shows up?

—The boss is in Menorca with his wife. All week.

The office was enormous, one of the biggest I had ever seen in my life. On the left, it connected to the secretary’s office; on the right, there was a sliding door leading to a meeting room with a solid-wood oval table. And at the back, a complete bathroom with a shower, which looked more like one in a five-star hotel than one in a public office. The large windows looked out onto the rooftop, and the orange evening light streamed in.

—Come on, you queer, get in.

—I already told you I’m not…

—I knooow, I know. Get in and slide the bolt.

He had sat down in the director’s armchair, his hands clasped behind his neck, looking at me with a mocking smile. I gave in. I slid the bolt. I knew perfectly well that he was going to do whatever he wanted with me.

—I’ve thought about you a lot these past few days, sweetheart.

—Ricardo, look, I…

—Shhh. Be quiet.

He stood up, came over to me, and grabbed me by the lapel of my uniform shirt. He forced me to bend down a little, since I’m half a head taller than him, and planted his lips on mine. Softly at first. Then he bit my lower lip and thrust his tongue all the way in. He smelled of clean sweat and expensive cologne. My cock hardened against my zipper before I realized it.

—Take your clothes off.

—Ricardo, what if someone comes?

—Who’s going to come? The IT people are about to leave, the cleaners have already done this floor, and your colleague won’t move his ass away from the cameras unless you call him. We’re alone, handsome.

The bastard had planned everything.

He unbuttoned my shirt one button at a time and pulled it from my shoulders. He tossed it aside.

—Fuck, I love these tits.

He grabbed my pecs with his big hands, squeezed them, sucked my nipples, and bit them. Pain and pleasure mixed together. My legs went weak. He kissed my mouth again while he fondled my chest as if they were a woman’s tits. He loved making me feel like a woman, and despite myself, I was beginning to like it.

He lowered his hands to my belt. He unfastened it, then the button and the zipper, and my trousers slid down to my ankles. The regulation handcuffs clattered when they hit the floor. Ricardo crouched down and looked at them with a new smile.

—Well, well. What do we have here? Do you have the keys?

—On the belt key ring.

He moved behind me, the handcuffs in his hand.

—Put your hands behind your back.

—Ricardo, don’t…

—Do as I say. We’re going to have some fun, you’ll see.

He closed the cuffs around my wrists, tightening them until the second click. He finished pulling down my trousers, underwear, and socks, leaving me completely naked, my hands behind my back, in Don Ramón’s office. My cock stood out hard and stiff, pointing toward the ceiling.

—Look how your cock gets when you see me —he laughed—. Did you clean yourself like I told you?

I nodded. I didn’t dare look at him.

—Are you sure?

—Yes, Ricardo.

—We’re going to check.

He pulled the regulation baton from its belt holster. Twenty inches of hard rubber, an inch and a half in diameter. My blood ran cold. He grabbed my cock and led me that way, pulling it as though it were a leash, into the adjoining meeting room. He moved two chairs aside and positioned me right in front of the solid table.

—Lean over, sweetheart. Let’s see if you’re really clean.

He pushed me until my chest was pressed against the cold wood. My legs were slightly bent, my ass raised, my hands cuffed behind my back. I had to turn my head and rest my cheek on the surface. I was at his mercy.

—Smack.

A sharp slap on my right buttock.

—Ah.

—Smack, smack, smack.

—Oh, fuck.

—What an ass you’ve got, queer.

He bit one cheek hard, then spread my buttocks with both hands. I felt the cold air on my asshole. Then the coldness of the lubricant dripping over me. He inserted one finger. Two. He twisted them inside. I moaned against the table.

—Sweaty but clean, my boy. A real little eater, too. A very hungry one.

Then I felt something turning at the entrance to my ass. It wasn’t his fingers. It wasn’t his cock. It was the fucking baton.

—No, Ricardo, not that.

—Shhh, be quiet, little slut.

He pushed patiently. I tried to tighten my sphincter, but he kept insisting. I realized that if I resisted, he would make me bleed. I relaxed. The rubber tip entered and split me open.

—Owww!

—Don’t scream. It’s barely in.

—Ugh, ugh, ugh.

He worked it in little by little. It wasn’t very thick, and the lubricant helped. He pulled it out and pushed it back in, each time a little deeper. When his fist hit my ass, I realized that half the baton was inside me. The wet sound of the rubber going in and out was obscene, and every thrust tore a moan from me that I could no longer control.

—Mmmh, ohhh, yes, ah.

—Do you like it, queer?

—Yes, oh, yes.

Suddenly, a tug. He pulled it out hard. It made an obscene pop, and my guts almost came out after it.

—Liar.

He tossed the baton onto the table, in front of my face. There was a little shit on the tip.

—Dirty, lying, and disobedient. You’ve earned a punishment. Don’t you think?

He began unfastening his belt. I swallowed.

—Ricardo, wait, uncuff me and we can talk…

—Smack!

The first lash caught me by surprise. Right where my thighs met my buttocks. It burned as if someone had pressed a hot iron against me.

—Aaahhh!

—You can scream. I don’t care. But the cleaners might hear you. And I don’t think you want your colleague to come up and see what’s happening.

—Please, please…

—Whack!

The second one crossed my entire ass. A streak of fire.

—Ughhh!

—Smack!

—Nnnng!

Tears sprang to my eyes. I bit my lips to keep from howling. My ass was burning like a red-hot griddle. When the fifth belt stroke landed, I thought I was going to pass out. And yet my cock was still hard as a rock, dripping pre-cum against the table leg. I was coming inside from humiliation and pleasure at the same time.

—Come on, my boy. It was only a little punishment. You mustn’t disobey me.

—Son of a bitch —I whispered, my voice broken.

—Don’t hold a grudge. It was for your own good. Now go clean yourself up in the bathroom. And wash your asshole properly; you still have some left in there.

He took off the handcuffs. I staggered into the director’s bathroom. I looked at my ass in the mirror: it looked like a traffic light. Pure red, with the belt marks clearly visible. I sat on the bidet, and the cold water soothed me. I cried a little, silently. I cried because he had turned me on. Because I had almost come while he was whipping me. Because I was realizing that I wanted more.

—Emilio, are you coming? —I heard from the office.

—I’m coming, Ricardo.

I dried myself and went out. He wasn’t in the meeting room. He was sitting on the director’s leather sofa, naked, with that solid, hairy body, the belly of a fifty-year-old man, and thick legs. He was stroking his cock, which was beginning to rise again.

—Come here, my boy. I’m sorry if I was rough. It was necessary. Sit down.

I sat beside him carefully, because my ass burned like hell. He put his hand on my face and kissed me. Softly. Very softly. He ran the tip of his tongue over my lips, bit the lower one as he liked to do, and thrust it all the way in again. With his free hand, he rubbed one of my tits, squeezing my nipple between two fingers. And there I was, making out with a man I hated and desired in equal measure.

—Come here, little slut. Suck my cock.

He moved to the edge of the sofa and spread his legs. I dropped to the floor, kneeling between them. I grabbed his balls, big and hairy, and squeezed them. I gave both of them a long lick and put them in my mouth one by one, sucking them like candies.

—Mmmh.

I gripped his cock with my hand. It was thick, with a slight upward curve. I ran my tongue from his balls to his frenulum, coating it with saliva. I played with the frenulum and lowered myself again, sliding the foreskin up and down to leave the head glistening. I loved the wet sound his cock made when I jerked it with my spit.

—Uuh, Emilio.

I went back up to the tip and swallowed it. All of it. My lips touched his pubic hair. I held it there for a few seconds, until my gag reflex was about to kick in, then pulled it out slowly. I began sucking him properly, bobbing my head up and down, pressing it against my palate with my tongue, faster and faster.

—Oh, yes, fuck, ugh, ugh.

—Slurp, slurp, slurp.

—Emilio, I’m coming, sweetheart, I’m coooming…

When he came, I pulled his cock out, leaving only the head in my mouth. He shot three thick spurts, one after another. I swallowed the first directly. I let the others escape from the corners of my mouth over his cock, and jerked it to spread his milk all over the shaft. I liked the taste: salty, a little sour, thick.

I sat up to kiss him. He dodged me.

—Get away. You swallowed my milk.

—Does your own milk disgust you?

—I’m a real man. I don’t suck cocks or let myself get fucked.

—Then you’re no more of a man than you are a queer. Neither one suits you.

He laughed heartily. He looked me up and down.

—Come here. Get on your knees on the sofa. Let’s see how that little ass is doing.

I climbed onto the sofa as he asked, kneeling with my face and arms resting on the back, my ass held high. Ricardo came closer, spread my buttocks, and blew on the belt marks. Then he stuck out his tongue and licked each one, very slowly, very gently.

—My poor little slut. That’s what you get for disobeying.

—Mmmm.

His cool saliva eased the burning. It relaxed me. And at the same time, it got me hard again. He gave me one long lick from my balls to my sphincter, where he stopped. He began eating my asshole with his tongue. Pushing it inside. Playing with it. Sucking.

—Ah, fuck, Ricardo, put your cock in me already. I can’t take it.

—Shhh. Impatient.

He took out the lubricant and smeared it over my asshole. He inserted one finger. Two. He spread them like scissors and twisted them, drawing moans from me. I looked back. He was putting on a condom. He stood between my legs, pressed the tip against my anus, and grabbed my hips with those big hands of his.

—Hold on, my boy.

He pushed. I already knew the mechanics and relaxed my sphincter. His cock overcame the resistance and entered me suddenly, halfway in.

—Ooohhh, fuck, Emilio.

—Yes, Ricardo, hold on a second.

It barely hurt. A sharp flare at first, then a burning that faded as I opened up inside for him. He pushed once more and buried his cock to the balls. He pressed his hairy body against my back and bit my neck.

—I’ve got you now, queer.

—Yes, all yours.

He moved his hands around to the front and grabbed my pecs, rubbing them and pinching my nipples as he began to move. Very slowly at first. Pulling his cock almost all the way out and pushing it back in millimeter by millimeter. I felt every inch of his shaft scraping my prostate. A savage, animal pleasure that rose up my back and made the hair on my neck stand on end.

—Oh, yes, Ricardo. That feels so good. Fuck me.

—Slap, slap, slap.

He increased the pace. My hot buttocks slapped against his hips with a wet splashing sound. Sweat ran down his chest and fell onto my back. He slapped my ass every three or four thrusts, right over the belt marks. I howled and begged him for more.

—Slap, slap, slap.

—Mmmh, Emilio, I’m coming, I’m coming…

He dug his fingers into my hips, and his thrusts became slower, deeper. On the last one, he drove his cock so deep that I felt his balls crushed against me. I tightened my sphincter as much as I could and felt his cock contract inside me, releasing his semen into the condom.

—Uughh.

—Yes, give it all to me.

He pressed his sweaty chest against my back without pulling out and bit my ear. I turned my face so our tongues could meet again. One hand moved to my chest and the other to my cock, which was bursting, dripping pre-cum. He grabbed it and began stroking it rhythmically, squeezing my foreskin. With his mouth pressed to my ear, he whispered filthy things.

—Come for me, queer. Come for your boss.

It took only four or five strokes. The orgasm rose from my balls like a lash. I screamed against the back of the sofa and released one long, thick jet, followed by two shorter ones, all of them landing on the director’s leather sofa. My legs trembled. My vision blurred. Ricardo held me against his chest until I stopped shaking.

***

—You’ve made a real mess, queer.

We were showering together in Don Ramón’s bathroom. Ricardo was soaping my back and slipping a soapy finger between my buttocks every now and then.

—Me?

—You stained the director’s sofa. With your milk.

—It was your idea to come here. Now deal with it.

He laughed. And as the hot water poured down my still-burning back, it occurred to me that the next time he called me to his office, I was going to run upstairs.