Date: Mon, 14 Feb 2011 06:47:07 -0800 (PST) From: Chase McPhee Subject: CoMPany payLoaD 01 (*NEW* Authoritarian) The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. % Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection. % CoMPany payLoaD 01 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee % Standing there in the elevator, on his way to the top floor of the Schlesinger Building, a three-story building, Nolan Harrellsson kept his cool, his attache attached to his hand, close to his side as if glued to his sharp, dark gray, Armani suit. He wanted to smile, knowing he was being checked out by the kid running the elevator, several glances to a mirrored, prepositioned to reflect an image from the rear of the lift. If he could read minds, he would be right, Jake Golubovic, checking out the dirty blond businessman, from the tips of his trendy haircut, to... Breaking silence, "Employed here for the summer?" Nolan asks in a very macho voice. It messed with Jake's concentration, him stuttering, "What? Oh yeah. I graduated last week." Nervously, because he suspected he was caught checking the stranger out, "I hope to continue at Merrick-Schlesinger in the fall, pulling a business major," and because he hadn't seen this dude around before, though looked older than your normal college frat, "you?" Approaching the floor he was getting off, door opening, he replies, "You can just call me Nolan, okay?" he gave him a wink. `OMG!' was running through Jake's mind as the two doors closed, sealing him off from the adorable stranger. Then, out loud, as if talking to someone sealed in there with him, "Nolan? Oh fuck, not Nolan Harrellsson? I'm such a fuckin' jerk!" He then backed up against the wall, closed his eyes tightly and banging his head against the wall, tells himself, "I was checking out the Harrellsson's son?" Then, in slow motion, "I.. am.. such.. a.. fuckin'.. jerk!" News had traveled fast when it was discovered Harrellsson's son was coming to join the business. If he was anything like the stickler his old man was, they were in for it. Bad enough, the elder Harrellsson was close to dictator status, an offspring they thought would be worst than anyone's worst nightmare, having two to deal with? Nobody knew what Nolan looked like. If right now Nolan was pitted against his father in a police lineup, they would look like they were from two different families. Erik Harrellsson had began balding in his early forties, so thought it wise, rather look older, shave his head. Contrasting, Nolan had a full head of blond hair, but kept the sides trimmed, the rest long, which would give someone the impression he had a `mohawk', only it was quite gelled up with gook and pointy, more emo-styled. Both dressed dapper, Armani, much to his father's dismay, Nolan wearing a gay pride tie. "It's Gay Pride week," was Nolan's upbeat response. "Do you have to let everyone around here know you're a queer?" The older Harrellsson felt, if he kept his sexuality a secret, as a preference, why, his son should do the same. But no. Pouring a cup of coffee from the elder Harrellsson's office butler, Nolan rubs it in, "How many boys have you fucked when you couldn't get it from mom?" His anger rising, Erik replies with pointed finger, "You shut your fuckin' mouth, hear me young man! You mark my words." Setting his cup down on his father's desk, Nolan walks up to father, embracing him, "Why don't we kiss and make up?" Immediately temperaments softened, Erik's deep frown turning into a light smile says as a finger swipes across Nolan's soft cheek. Of course he was at odds, wanting to keep Nolan happy, when the divorce decree left Nolan with more stocks and shares than himself. Lying through his teeth he tells, "Why of course. Why should it change, the close knit relationship we had with your growing up?" Turning away, a bit of sentimentality choked from his throat, Nolan replies, "Yeah. I know." Of course, faked, he repairs his emotions quickly, "Where else would I have gotten so much practice fucking a guy before going to college?" Turning, giving a smile, he says before closing the door behind him, "See you at the board meeting!" Leaving, Erik's secretary walks in within five seconds, saying, "I need to have these papers signed before the board meeting, sir?" In reply, Erik says, "Lock the door. I need to have a quickie!" "What if I'm not in the mood?" "Get in the mood!" Harrellsson replies, his hands already busy unbuckling Yalin Tarazi's belt. "I can do it myself!" he repelled his boss. Fine with Erik, turning on himself to dismantle his wardrobe, but all the time watching Yalin unbuckle, drop his pants as he kicks off his loafers. He licks his lips in anticipation, eyes viewing the `illusion', a soft cock lining his white briefs, two big, beautiful balls in outline. Unfastening his tie, Yalin says, "I guess I could go for a quick one." "And tonight?" Erik says. "Can't," Yalin replies, unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his dark brown hairy chest, the thin slice of hair down the middle, heavily covered bellyhole. "Why not?" "I don't have to tell you everything I do!" And rubbing it in, because he knew Erik kept tight reins on Nolan, having to know everywhere he went, "I'm not your son, you know?" It earned him a punch in the stomach and as he doubled over, "Yeah? Well just remember who put you through college, young man!" Erik enforced the tone of voice as if he were reprimanding his own son. Catching up with his breath, Yalin coughs, toning his voice to an apologetic manner as he says, "I'm sorry. Okay? I have an orgy going on downtown. Some of the guys from my old dorm." Same time, whenever it comes about, he expresses to himself the desire, the need to part ways with his present employer. However the dowry for his college expenses keeps the two in a binding relationship. "Excellent. Since I haven't got any plans for this evening, I would be happy to accept your invitation to go along with you. Now," he rubs his hands together, "let's get down to business?" Taking on the scene, one would guess Erik was in charge, but once he sank to his knees, his thumbs taking the band of Yalin's briefs with him, he totally surrendered his mouth to pleasuring the Syrian's soft, but straight and fat stalk. Years prior, Yalin loved it, because Erik was such a good cocksucker. Too, he had a tight ass and Yalin savored over every moment of ramming his fuck tool in, out and back in. In college there was much opportunity to share the same action and with new and fresh contestants, all looking for the same thing, Erik had been more an office proposition than anything outside his place of employment. He went through the motions because he had to, even acted out the part of a top thoroughly enjoying a hot blowjob. Really he couldn't wait till it was over done with, shooting his slimy creme down his boss' throat. "Mm-m-m! Nice," Erik said getting up and licking his lips. "Very tasty Yalin," and in one breath, "you can get dressed now." Erik went about his business like nothing happened. Yalin had no problem with it, except for it was over and done with, with no feeling or other emotion, other than the fake performance he put on. It wasn't like this in the beginning. When they first met it was like `love at first sigh'. Now he seemed like an old oil rag in a fixit man's shop. He couldn't quell the fact it did feel good having a blowjob, it was person giving it which gave it little meaning. Fitting most of his own clothes on, he turns to hear Erik say, "And what time did you say you were going to pick me up?" "Look," Yalin says with conviction, "I don't think you should go." "Oh really?" Erik replies, reminding him of something Yalin had hoped he had forgotten, "And how do you think the immigration authorities would react when I told them how you slipped into the country?" He shook his head. One mistake he made years ago, trusting Erik Harrellsson. Before closing the door he said, "I'll pick you up at Nine. The action is happening around then." Sitting back in his chair, hands behind his head, his shirt still open, Erik Harrellsson reveled in the thought of all those hot, young, twenty-something cocks needing service. He then noticed Yalin, still dressing. "Didn't I tell you to get the fuck out?" Maybe he didn't, but Yalin got the message, picking up his socks and dress shoes, the necktie he left lying over one of the padded easy chairs along with his suit jacket, an expensive one Erik had foot the bill for, and with his shirt still unbuttoned he made his way out. % "Whew it's hot in here!" Nolan exclaims, looking at the thermostat and tapping it with his finger. Turning around to face the board members, they were quite surprised to see Nolan loosening the knot of his tie and leaving it hang around the collar of his shirt. After unbuttoning the top button of his shirt, Nolan's father remarks, "Are you quite finished stripping for us?" He giggled, hoping others would catch on. In reality, if it were funny he would get some rowdy laughter. Other times, a sick joke would command faux laughter, somewhat resembling the real thing! "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Whatever comic rendering started up, stopped. The comment left mouths gawking, open. Nobody in their right mind would address Erik Harrellsson in such a manner. However there was always an exception to the rule and young Nolan was the exclusion. Erik let it go right over his head. Feeling a bit steamy around the collar he pulled at it with an index finger before he marched on, "At the top of our business this morning gentlemen, is the acquisition of Manning..." Before Erik could finish, Nolan was jumping in there with, "The idea sucks." Too, stealing the show away from his father, he goes on to tell why it would be, in his own words, "...stupid to acquire a company which makes hair products such as..." he stops, looks directly at his own father's head, then continues, "...toupees?" Giggling, Nolan continues, "Toupees were hot back in the late 1950's and early sixties, guys even buying wigs for their chests," he laughs, "but nowadays guys are even shaving their tufts of pec hair, right down to the..." keeping it clean, "bellyhole!" Smiling, he looked, unobtrusively, around the room for reaction. He received a round of laughter, wave after wave of it, geniune, not forced. It is probably part of the reason it got the old man riled up, "Well it seems you have done your homework young man?" Snapping his attache shut, Erik makes his way towards the door, "I see no reason why you need further assistance?" said in a snotty manner. Oh, but Nolan wasn't finished, replying, "No. Stay." His hand was on the knob, ready to turn, but something in the back of his mind kept him from following through with his impromtu plan. Before the time Nolan was ready to head off for college, before applying, it had come to him, his father's actions, becoming overly expressive of a father-and-son relationship, times of coercion, taking him to bed when their mother was out, out of town, state or country, all would add up to some lawsuit, if word got out. Even more though, Nolan had gotten the upper hand, when in a surprise move, Nolan's mother had found out. Instead of bringing the law into this, she saw fit to punish her husband by stripping him of almost all assets they held together in their marriage. Of course, Nolan benefitted greatly from this, gaining access to the mansion, which his mother hardly frequented. When he found out, he was wowwed, "OMG! I get to use the lodge on Lake Flathead?" There were many other amenities too, Nolan just as ecstatic, being master of all contained within the boundaries of the mansion: the house manager, who graphed out like a family tree, door man, butler, servants, chef and kitchen staff, limo service, garden manager, landscaping crew and something which made him smile, the `pool boy'! For a fact, Nolan well knew his father was getting it on with Joseph. His father had hired the eighteen year old when he was seventeen, about to embark on his next birthday. Nolan stills smiles, remembering the birthday party his father threw for Joseph, inviting a small band of friends over for a pool party. What else could Joseph expect, when his friends were gone and because he was of legal age, had downed quite a few bottles of beer. Nolan was out with his own band of friends, but when he returned home, finding the eighteen year old in bed with his father, cuddled up in a lover's knot and sleeping... it made for fine pictures, added to the private chapter of the family photo album! What else could Erik Harrellsson do? Partially he had brought it on himself, leaving himself open for criticism. He opened the door to the board room and then closed it, without making his exit. If Nolan wanted to, he could have picked up on the infraction, taken it for it was worth, making his father open the door and close it quietly, but just knowing he was ticking his father off was enough punishment. Wiser for the better, Nolan made another move. He sat at one head of the table, his father at the other. When his father went to sit down, Nolan casually orders, as his father goes to park his butt, "No," pointing his finger down the line of men on the table, "since you are not interested, why don't we have..." he stops at a man in his late twenties, sitting tall. He was tall, at six foot-one inch, dark brown hair, close-cropped beard surrounding his chops. "David," he selects, "why don't you take up the position at the other end of the table?" Dead silence filled the room. Nolan's father was as silent as the rest, his mind racing. Of course his son must have figured out his most closely guarded secret, David Schlesinger, the third, not only one of the top officers of the board and a `higher-up' in the roles of the company staffing, but his current bed mate. Too, David made a quick glance to Erik, the two locking eyes for a short duration of seconds. After sinking into the leather chair, Erik picked his butt up. It was a `dig' and Harrellsson knew it, but rather than make a scene, making himself look worse off, as well as possibly David, he adhered to his son's wishes, and moved. Passing by David, who had done the same, he shrugged, gestured on his face, `I don't know," so only Erik could see and proceed to follow orders. Normally, the length of the meeting thus far, without getting down to real business would constitute much wasted time, time those involved would otherwise turn into things more productive, like morning coffee or fratting with other employees, the cafeteria likewise buzzing with business. It surely sent a message to Erik and David, the two self-conscious now, especially concerned with the fact David has risen in ranks, from mailroom to right-hand-man. "Oh! One more thing, gentlemen, before we get under way." Picking up his own cell, even though he was dialing inside the company building, Nolan presses a button and in seconds connects, "Yalin, would you be so kind as to..." They waited and whereas there might be huffs and puffs of dissatisfactions, board members disgruntled with the delays, smiles accumulated on their faces, Nolan rattling off morning pleasures gained, ordering delights from some high end bakery in town, Tucker's, complete with coffee, from the elitist of beverage shops, Sahin's, where they made the best coffee around. Personally, speaking with Yalin, he mentions, "Make sure you only order through Geoff Sahin." As he goes to replace the phone back in his pocket and sit down, all the while Nolan is smiling, thinking of his basketball buddy from high school, Geoff Sahin, the two of them at Geoff's house, it all to themselves after school, after basketball practice or after a game. Showing him `what to do' for his later teen life, Nolan was more the educator for Geoff, passing along what his father had mentored to him. Now, both at twenty-four years old, it's not only the fact Nolan had helped put Geoff through college, but he had an undefined crush on his peer. Right now all he could think about is, `the only man he would break the rules for, sucking his tall stalk, licking him all over, tongue ass, all those things a strict top would never bend for', but now it was time to get down to business, throw off the desires and allow the stirring in his loins to die down! Copyright 2011 T. Chase McPhee `CoMPany payLoaD' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.