Hard at Work
Warren has been nervously squirming in his seat for nearly fifteen minutes when the lady at the reception called his name.
“I’m here!” He quickly made his way to the reception desk, trying not to cringe at how loud his voice had been.
The lady (Lydia, as her nameplate helpfully provided) thankfully feigned ignorance. “Sigh here and here,” she pushed a thin stack of papers in his direction. “IT, huh?” She seemed amused. “Another recruit for the boys’ club.”
That was just another colorful rumor he’d heard about the department when looking into it for his internship. “I guess so,” he mumbled before giving her the now-signed papers.
Lydia pointed to an elevator door while filing his documents. “You’re going up to the seventh floor. Here, you’ll need your worker ID to operate it. Oh, and don’t be shy about reporting the guys if they give you a hard time - HR warned them one too many times already.”
If there were any red flags that he should return, this was it. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” Warren said sheepishly, before walking to the elevator.
***
IT was a boys' club, alright.
Although everyone wore suits (which felt a bit old-fashioned for tech guys, but made Warren feel better about his own ensemble), there was a frat house air to the office: most guys were on their feet, joking around, playing mini basketball, or eating slices of pizza.
“New intern?” A short, scruffy guy in a rumpled shirt snapped fingers at it, making Warren realize he was spacing out again.
“That obvious?”
The guy smirked. “We’ve all been there. I’m Fitz. Let me show you the room you’ll be working in.”
He guided Warren to a door at the back of the office. “So, you know which position you’ll be working?”
“Yep,” Warren lied. His attempts to translate the corporate lingo on his application form were pathetic - his best guess was that he was gonna help out the other personnel. All he knew was that he was nearing six months without a job, and he needed this internship.
Fitz nodded. “That makes things easier. Here, take a seat. I’ll get your jacket.”
They seemed to be in some sort of break room. There was a kitchen counter, a fridge, two couches, a table with some chairs gathered around, and, weirdly, a pool table.
Warren gingerly gave his jacket to Fitz and cringed when the other man threw him haphazardly on the pool table. “Anything else I should do?” He sat on a chair that looked flimsy, but on a closer look, was bolted to the floor.
“You’re good to go. Just sit still while I tie you up.”
“Oh, sure, let me - WAIT, WHAT?”
I probably heard him wrong, Warren thought. He shouldn’t have overreacted right from the first day.
Fitz raised a brow, taking a coil of red hemp rope from a cupboard. “I’ll tie you up? I know not everyone likes it, but we had complaints about break room guys wandering off when they are needed, making too much noise, yadda yadda yadda. This makes things easier for everyone.” He paused. “Is everything alright? I can use cuffs if that’s what you prefer.”
Judging from his smile, Fitz didn’t think anything was amiss about the situation. “Ropes are great!” Warren forced himself to smile. “It’s just uh, my first time, so I’ll let you guide me through.” He wasn’t going to quit from the first day. He could endure this… right?
“Sure thing,” Fitz kneeled behind Warren, pulling the intern’s wrists behind his back and winding the rope around them until they were securely crossed and tied to a vertical bar at the back of the chair. “I’m sure your contract had all the details, but we like having a guy at the break room when the work gets too stressful.”
Warren hummed as if he knew what was going on. “Yeah, I can imagine. The uh, stress.”
“Exactly,” Fitz added more rope around Warren’s biceps, pressing his back flush against the chair. “Can I take off your pants?”
“MY PAN-” Warren bit his cheek. “I mean… yeah, just… be careful about my phone.” He closed his eyes and thought about how much of his student debt he could pay with his paycheck as Fitz undid his belt and pulled down his slacks.
“Wow, I realized you were buff, but you have some great tights.” Fitz squeezed Warren’s tights, drawing a yelp from him. “Do you work out?”
“Just played football back at the college.” Warren was grateful that he wore clean briefs. He was less grateful about just how tight they were and only got tighter by the minute. He tried his best not to focus on Fitz’s touch near his crotch or how close his face was to Warren’s bulge.
Or how he had sock garters on.
“You must have been one hell of a player,” Fitz tied Warren’s ankles to the front legs of the chair, giving him no room to chide his growing hard-on. “You know, you’re doing us a huge favor. You should be proud.”
“...should I?” Warren felt embarrassed and confused more than anything, but Fitz looked genuinely grateful.
“Yeah, I’m not kidding. After our algorithm found out that this was the most efficient way to relieve stress, we took turns being the break room guy, but it makes it hard to get anything done, you know. Sometimes everyone gets *too* productive and forgets our guy tied up here overnight.” Fitz made a face. “Worst Monday of my life.”
While he chatted, his hands expertly added more knots to tie Warren more tightly to the chair, paying special attention to his tights while binding them to the seat of the chair.
This actually… wasn’t so bad. Warren tested the bonds holding him. The position he was forced to wasn’t loose, but it felt snug in an oddly comforting way, and none of the knots cut off his circulation. If it wasn’t for the raging erection in his briefs, he could fall asleep like this.
“How do you feel? Can you get loose?”
Warren struggled to get up or pull one of his limbs through the red rope prison, but everything held tight. “I don’t think so. You’re good at this,” he added with respect.
The compliment made Fitz brighten up. “Can you tell? I’m not the biggest guy in the department - the opposite, actually - so I need to make sure others stay tied up and not try to switch places with me.” He pulled a leather blindfold out from… somewhere. “Let me put this on. I promise, it makes things more interesting - or easier to tune out when you’re bored.”
The blindfold was buckled behind his head, and like the ropes, felt well-used to touch. Hopefully well-cleaned, too. It did a great job at blocking off the light - the thumping inside Warren’s chest got heavier. The first day of the internship was the worst time to learn more about his kinks.
“So, you guys uh,” Warren had to ask. “Have sex with the break guy or…?” It was easier to blurt out questions while he was unable to see Fitz’s face.
A pause. Too long a pause, actually. “Occasionally,” Fitz finally said.
“Not as often as you might think. Not everyone is into it, and the logistics would be hard to navigate if everyone tried to bone the same guy during the lunch break.”
“We just find it fun to mess around with one of the guys while he can’t do anything to stop it. Well, in theory, that is.”
Warren felt a small remote being pushed inside his left fist. “Hold this. You can always press the button if you want a break - trust me, HR takes this seriously.”
“Th-thanks. You were saying something about - messing around?”
“Yup,” there was a hint of a smirk in Fitz’s voice. “Some guys like to spank other dudes. Or tickle them. Gus, the guy who sits across from me, is into making the break room guy sniff his shoes. You’ll know when he gets here.”
“...and you?” Warren felt breathless. “What do *you* like?”
Warren heard Fitz swearing softly. “Me? Seeing big guys like you tied up is usually enough for me.” A firm grasp pulled Warren forward by his necktie, making him feel Fitz’s next words on his face. “Edging them until the end of the shift and then milking them once they are begging me for release.”
Warren gulped. “That sounds nice to me- ugggnnn!” He bucked against the ropes holding him when a warm hand suddenly squeezed his erection.
“Yeah, I can tell.” Fitz's laugh was warm and devious at the same time. “Why don’t we shut you up? Otherwise, your cute moans are gonna draw in all the guys here, and I’d prefer to show you the ropes alone.”
Warren contemplated this for a second, then wordlessly opened his mouth, earning him a pat on the head and a soft wad of fabric stuffed between his lips. “Don’t worry, that jockstrap is clean.”
A strip of tape was pressed firmly over his mouth, followed by at least five others and more rounds than he can count around his head. “I’m hoping you’ll wear it tomorrow to work.”
A needy whine escaped Warren’s gagged mouth when Fitz opened a button on his dress shirt and tugged on a hard nipple. “No undershirt, too? Nice! It’d be a shame to hide these pecs.”
As his pecs were kneaded and stroked roughly, Warren writhed and panted in the chair he was bound to, to the point he was barely able to register Fitz’s question. “Hey, you *are* coming back tomorrow, right?”
“Mmmmnnn-hmmmmm!” Warren never thought he could nod so fast in his life.
“Neat!”
Then, his dick was freed from the confines of his briefs, and Fitz’s mouth enveloped it instead, and yeah. He was gonna need a better gag.
► Show Spoiler
“How was your first day?”
It took Warren a minute to realize he was being addressed by - right, Lydia. She looked at her watch and at the intern again. “They’ve put you to work right from the first day?”
“Well…” Warren quickly checked himself by the mirrored door near the reception. His hair was a mess, he had hickeys all around his neck, his shirt was missing a couple of buttons, and there were marks on his face and arms from being tied for hours.
“It’s hard work,” he beamed at the receptionist, feeling the weight of Fitz’s number in his pocket. “But someone has to do it.”
THE END
