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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

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A Desk Job - Chapter 3, Part 4

Why was Mister Exham answering the company phone? How had he known it was Fenton? What the hell?!

Fenton could only gulp and mouth for air. He was petrified by that voice, the memory of what had occurred the day before, and what he was supposed to be saying.

Mom did not seem at all sympathetic and gave him that look that said ‘speak now or reap the consequences.’

“Um… uh. Mister … uh … Mister Exham…” He mumbled, secretly hoping the man would catch on to his disinterest and let him off the hook. Fenton felt like a tiny puppy, whimpering at its new owner.

But there was no response on the other end of the line. No pity response. Fenton could just imagine the man’s smirk, enjoying making the teen wallow and beg for this job that he didn’t want.

“About … uh. About the job? I was calling to see … if …”

Still no response. Fenton’s face was burning with embarrassment and frustration. He squeezed his free hand into a fist and forced himself to speak, no longer willing to give Exham the pleasure of hearing him squirm.

“Mister Exham. I was calling to accept the job you offered me yesterday.” The words came as a torrent with no pause or inflection. But he felt physically relieved at getting it out there. Mom seemed to lighten up as well.

“I knew you would. Come by the office tomorrow. We’ll discuss the particulars. Have you sign the paperwork. Get you started.”

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A Desk Job - Chapter 3, Part 3

Fingers sweaty and jittering, Fenton dialed in the number for Appearances by X. He could already feel the color in his face rising as his mother loomed over him.

All he could think was panic and fear. This wasn’t fair. If she knew what he was doing, what that weirdo wanted to do! But she was right, they needed the money. Maybe he could keep looking for work elsewhere. Land a job somewhere else in a few days.

This desperate thought gave him a little hope. But the youth still struggled to find his voice when the line was answered by a deep, familiar voice.

“Fenton? I’d hoped you’d call.” Mister Exham’s voice said lewdly, full of suggestion.

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The bulk of the man knelt down over his fallen form and untied the remaining ropes that held Fallon immobile. He only had a few moments to stretch his sore limbs before fiercely strong arms twisted him into another position and bound him...

The bulk of the man knelt down over his fallen form and untied the remaining ropes that held Fallon immobile. He only had a few moments to stretch his sore limbs before fiercely strong arms twisted him into another position and bound him anew.

Ensnaring a fistful of hair between gloved fingers, his captor jerked him up to a kneeling position. Fallon whimpered at the mistreatment, mewling for some kind of respite. His whole body was aglow with a hundred different aches.

Blearily, Fallon looked up at the dark clad man who seemed to tower ever-higher above him. Pointing outward between the zipper of his coveralls was his cock: erect and seeping precum. Fallon’s eyes flashed wide at the sight of it.

“Wha–” Further words were cut short and Fallon found his face pressed roughly against the crotch of his captor; sweat and musk filled his quivering nostrils.

“If I so much as feel teeth, boy, you’ll be regretting it for a long time.” Came the man’s sickly-sweet voice: firm and commanding but soft and almost friendly. He knew he had all the power in this situation - it was simply up to Fallon to comply.

Oh god, the teen thought in terror, sizing up the member that was rubbed against he side of his face. He’d never even had a blow job before. But now this guy expected him to dish one out? Fallon couldn’t deny that he’d always wanted to try it but this was not the setting he had intended.

Timidly Fallon opened his mouth and let his tongue touch the side of the cock, his eyes darting to the man for any sign he was doing something wrong. He felt his heart beat faster and a flush of blood to his own privates. Daring a bit more, Fallon took a little of the cock head into his mouth, totally uncertain as to what he was doing. He could taste the precum on his tongue and tried not to make a face at the sensation.

Then, gingerly, he began to bob his face back and forth across the sizable length of the man’s prick. Fallon could feel the flesh twitching beneath his lips and hear the man’s heavy grunts. He felt an odd twinge of pride - he must be doing reasonably well then.

That was not the case, however. Still holding Fallon by his blond locks, the man thrust his hips forward slightly, shoving more than a mouthful of sweat-smelling cock into the teen’s mouth. Fallon gagged loudly and struggled to pull away to gasp for air, tears immediately rushing to the corners of his eyes.

“Deeper, fagot. You want air you’d better take more fucking quick.”


***

Special thanks to Mark for his suggestions and input on this pic. Having evil brains to collaborate with makes drawing fun. <grins>

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A Desk Job - Chapter 3, Part 2

The owner of the coffee shop eventually surface and shooed the boys out in the earlier afternoon. Fenton made his excuses and departed for home.

Mom was waiting for him when he arrived and the expression on her face said it all. She was not pleased. "You said they were looking for a girl.“

Fenton tried to play it off casually. "Who was?”

“You know damn well. The interview yesterday.”

“They were!”

“Then why did I just get off the phone with a very nice man from Appearances by X. He said he was very disappointed that you turned down his job offer. That kind of money is nothing to snub, Fenton!”

The youth could old gape wide mouthed. He called home? He spoke to Fenton’s mother? What the hell was going on? This was insane. Should he tell her what was really going on? The real reason he’d turned down the job?

“The job …” Fenton started, trying to phrase it with the least amount of blushing possible. “Was not going to be a good fit for me.”

“You can’t be picky at this point, Fenton. You need a job! We need a job! Mister Exham explained that there must have been some kind of misunderstanding but his offer was still open.”

“I’ll find something else, Mom…”

“Another job that pays eighty-thousand dollars? With your experience? That’s more than your father was making!”

Fenton stared at his shoes, his shoulders rounding with frustration and defeat. He knew where this was going. The youth gritted his teeth and waited for it.

“I want you to call him back right now. Accept the job.” She held out her hand and the phone in it. The look in her eyes said there was not going to be any discussion on the matter.

Fenton had to fight to hold back tears. Not fair.

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A Desk Job - Chapter 3, Part 1

Fenton spent the day much like every other day that he didn’t have a job interview: in the coffee shop. He didn’t drink coffee, because he couldn’t afford to. But this is where his friends gathered.

They weren’t old enough for bars (which they couldn’t afford to visit anyway) and the penalties for street loitering were even more expensive. All of them were out of work.

Fenton secretly pictured them as the ABC Club in Les Miserable. Gathering together to talk about political woes, the imbalance of money in society, or social rights campaigns.

Reality was not as glamorous.

Conner and Kagan were sharing a lone cup of coffee. Kasib stared out the narrow glass windows at a police car slowly patrolling up the road.

“Michelle Garret or Britney Sylvester.” Connor asked, while he waited on Kagan.

Girls. Not just girls, actresses. Unreachable, shallow, and unimportant.

Fenton tried to hide his disinterest by looking ‘intently’ at the squad car.

Silence.

“Where were you yesterday, Fen? Figured you got nicked or something by the cops.”

“You know me. I’m always out there trying to stick it to the Man.”

It wasn’t uncommon for someone to suddenly disappear. 'Civil disobedience’ had a very loose interpretation these days. With so many out of work and tempers running hot, keeping the herd thinned seemed to be the priority of those in power.

“It don’t take much!” Kagan offered. “That nice guy next door to us got nabbed the other day. Lost his job. He’s standing in the street outside the building and just loses it. Yelling and shaking his fist. Didn’t come home that night.”

Silence again. There was no one else in the shop but them. The barista was leaning against the back wall, eyes glazed as she twitched through the video feed on her eye piece.

When the empty air got to be too much, Fenton pipped up. “I had a job interview.”

The guys all perked up at this. “Sweet! Something good? You’ve got the brains for it.”

“For a librarian.”

“Dude, fuck off.”

Fenton paused again and wished he hadn’t mentioned it. There was no graceful answer.

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A Desk Job - Chapter 2, Part 5

Of course, Mom wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. Fenton wasn’t sure why he’d imagined she would today - that had not been the case in the months before. 'Helicopter parents’ didn’t begin to describe the adult supervision he was constantly under.

Somehow that surreal interview was his excuse. Didn’t that give him at least a day’s respite? Granted, Mom didn’t know about that. Nor would she! Good god - if she had any idea what happened the previous day there would be lawsuits and then everyone would get to hear the story of how Fenton interviewed to be the office whore.

He wiped the drool from his face and set his glasses back on his face. They immediately lilted to one side. He’d needed new ones for a long time. But Dad had also been out of work for a long time. His own job hunting was not going any better.

The youth’s eyes rested on his laptop - the screen startled to life by his mucking about in the bed. One of the strange image he’d perused the night before remained on the monitor: a boy bound with his knees to his chest, a bouquet of lilies protruding from his butt.

Fenton blushed, squirmed and huffed before he finally shut the laptop and fell awkwardly out of bed, a pile of blankets, clothes and other loose objects marring his way.

It already felt like today was going to be a bad day…

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