Date: Fri, 31 Jul 2020 21:44:58 +0000
From: Jack Nifty <jacknifty@protonmail.com>
Subject: Finding His Boy: Chapter Two

I'm trying to get into writing so would really love to hear your thoughts
on the start to this story: both positive and negative. You can get in
touch with me at: jacknifty@protonmail.com or by going to my twitter which
is: https://twitter.com/JackNifty I'll be posting links to chapters and
other materials on there so go check it out.

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Disclaimer: This story contains sex between consent adult men, all 18+. Any
actors playing the roles of these fictional characters in your mind are
also over the age of 18. This story will contain rough sex and interactions
that explore dominance and submission as well as many fetishes and kinks.
If any of this offends you, or if you are not legally allowed to read this,
you should stop now. If you continue then any consequences are your own
fault. This is fictional, although aspects may be informed by the real-life
experiences of the author. Any similarities or resemblances are purely
coincidental.

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Then:

We met Tom, a twenty-five-year old, well-hung dom, in his penthouse suite
whilst he was balls-deep in some random slut he'd picked up during a quick
trip to a local bar. For the boy, it had been the fuck of his life but, for
Tom, it was just another Tuesday night and he unceremoniously kicked the
young lad out once he'd finished with him.

Now:

Finding His Boy: Chapter Two

The boy had found the hour after leaving Tom's suite quite embarrassing
indeed. He'd had to approach the doorman and ask him to book him a taxi,
fully aware that the older gentleman knew exactly why a skinny, little
twink was leaving a man's apartment at three in the morning. With his hole
still gaping quite significantly, he'd been unable to stop himself from
leaking Tom's cum on the seat of the taxi: something that driver definitely
noticed and he charged the young blond extra whilst telling him what a slut
he was. However, the worst was when he'd arrived back home only to come
across his father on the upstairs landing. His dad's eyes went straight to
the wet patch on his son's bum and then to the lines of white leaking down
out through the bottom of his shorts. To say that the twink wanted the
world to open and swallow him whole would be an understatement. Tom, on the
other hand, slept soundly in his bed: his urges sated and his mind at rest.

Thomas Peter Cook was an exceptionally fortunate young man. His father,
David, had been born to a single mother in a quite disadvantaged area. They
had been dirt-poor when David had been a child, often wondering whether
there was going to even be a next meal for his brothers and sisters. His
mother did her best, working two jobs just to make ends meet but it was her
determination and drive that had inspired the boy and, as soon as he was
old enough, he began finding ways to make money on his own. Initially, it
had been but a small thing: he'd use whatever money he could get to buy
sweets and drinks which he then sold at his secondary school during the
breaks. He was exceptionally shrewd and, other than investing in more
stock, he didn't touch that money for himself, although he would
occasionally use his growing savings to ease his mother's burdens. By the
time he left school, he had enough to invest in a small van and market
stall: he'd hunt out the best bargains on a wide range of items which he
then sold on with quite significant profit margins. Over the years, his
business grew from a stall, to a series of small shops and, eventually,
into the multi-million-pound organisation that he still heading up to this
day. Everything he had, he had earnt through his business acumen and the
sweat of his brow.

Given his own childhood, David was exceptionally keen to ensure that Tom,
his only child, did not grow up knowing the same trials and
troubles. Whilst his intentions had been good, that had ultimately meant
that Tom hadn't suffered at all. He'd grown up in a world where every
single one of his needs and wants were met almost instantly. When Tom had
been expelled from three secondary schools for fighting, his father had
paid a fourth to take him and keep him, regardless of his behaviour. When,
at seventeen, he'd demanded to learn how to drive in a brand-new Audi, his
father allowed him to have it custom-made. And when he'd finished his
education and had no possible prospects or any ambition to accomplish
anything in his life, David had brought Tom into the company and given him
a position overseeing one of the departments. Tom had been completely and
thoroughly spoilt and it showed in the person that he had become.

After a night of blissful sleep, Tom was driving into work at 11 in the
morning. He didn't always bother going into the office: he had people who
ran the department on a day-to-day basis. In truth, his father had placed
him in a position where any damage he could do would be mitigated by the
highly competent employees who really ran that part of the company. Of
course, that's not what Tom thought; he believed that he had earnt this
role and that he was, in fact, vital to the success operation of Human
Resources. Yes, that's right, the fuck 'em and leave 'em stud was in charge
of Human Resources. As you can imagine, he'd used his power to quash a
multitude of complaints made against him for inappropriate behaviour
although he believed that those had come from a series of sluts who were
pissed off at him for losing interest in them. The latest complaint had
come from his old personal assistant. The nineteen-year old had taken issue
with his firing and lodged an official grievance, which Tom had immediately
dismissed. But, hey, it wasn't Tom's fault that he'd become bored with
fucking the teen after the boy's boyfriend had found out about the affair
and dumped him: using the twink once he was single just hadn't felt the
same. That's actually why he was heading into the office - he needed to
interview for a new assistant from his hand-picked crop of applicants.

"Good morning Tom," he was greeted by Maria, a woman in her early forties
and the second in the department, "You have three interviews lined up for
this morning; the first young man arrived on time for his ten o'clock
appointment and is waiting outside your office. The second has just been
seated in the break room a few minutes ago."  "Great: I'll start up then,"
Tom replied, knowing full well that he had whittled down the applicants
carefully and based upon very specific criteria.  "The panel is ready
whenever you need them."  "Oh, that's fine. I'll be doing these myself."
Maria paused for a moment, deciding whether it would be worth challenging
her department head, but ultimately thought better of it: "Ok - give Anna a
buzz when you want the second candidate."  As Tom walked away and towards
his office, she rolled her eyes and sighed, wondering how many complaints
she was going to have to make go away once the company president's son got
through with each of his hand-selected young men.

Nervous but trying to not let it show, Jordan sat outside of the office of
the man he'd come to interview with. At eighteen, he was fresh from a local
sixth form college and eager to get started in the 'real world'. Whilst
he'd worked before, of course, it was only in voluntary or part-time
positions. He'd been the secretary of his college's LGBTQ+ society for the
last year and was hoping that that would give him something to talk about
in the interview. The young man had felt quite calm when he'd first arrived
but had spent the last hour berating himself for getting the time wrong and
arriving too early; he hoped it wouldn't be taking as a lack of attention
to detail and counted against him.

Approaching his office, Tom gave the waiting boy a once over and smiled. He
was exactly how he'd appeared on his social media profiles: a beautiful,
baby-faced ginger with white alabaster skin. The boy was dressed well too
with a fitted suit, although one of cheap quality. Not that it mattered:
Tom intended to have the suit discarded across the floor within a few
minutes. "Good morning," the older man said, flashing a pearly-white smile,
"Thank you for coming in." Tom extended his hand as boy rose from his seat.

Jordan could feel himself shaking as he reached out to take the offered
hand and desperately hoped that his palms weren't sweaty. Tom control the
shake and then held Jordan's hand for a few seconds more than one normal
would, even after the young man tried to take it back. Locking eyes with
him, he introduced himself: "Mr Cook - I'm the head of the department and
the one looking for the personal assistant."  "J... Jordan," the boy
replied but the man just looked at him, "Oh, sorry, Jordan Adams."
"Pleasure to meet you," Tom was making sure to maintain eye contact with
the boy as much as possible. Between his piecing blues, his sexy smile and
his charm, he'd have the boy ready to melt in no time at all.  "I'm really
sorry for coming so early - I got the time wrong," Jordan blurted out in
one quick sentence although that hadn't been his intention.  Tom stepped
forward to open the door to the office, turning away from Jordan for a
brief moment: "You didn't. You were ten o'clock."

It took Jordan a moment to process but as soon as he realised that he
hadn't made a mistake, it was like a switch clicked. He'd been left there
for over an hour deliberately and the man before him hadn't even
apologised. The nervousness vanished to be replaced with a seed of
frustration inside of the young redhead. Still, he wasn't going to say
anything: this job was a great opportunity and he wasn't going to blow
it. Moving towards the door, he made the decision to hold his tongue - a
rarity for the boy.

Tom was holding the door open, though there was plenty of space for Jordan
to pass through given how short and skinny the young man was but he didn't
want that to happen. As the little cutie came through, Tom pushed himself
forward so that his hips, and thus his cock, grazed against the boy. Jordan
didn't say anything but he couldn't have failed to notice what was being
pressed into his back once he'd got into the room. "Sit there," the older
man said, indicating to the small stool in the middle of the room. His
voice was firm and slightly deeper than it had been before. Of course,
being the interviewee, Jordan complied and soon found himself being
questions by Tom, who had taken the elaborate, black seat behind the
desk. "Tell me about yourself, Jordan."

For the two minutes or so, Jordan went through a bit of a sales pitch for
himself: he discussed his education, explained what his ambitions were and
was about to start discussing his relevant experience when Tom interrupted
him. "Oh yes, tell me about the gay thing."  Jordan hesitated: "The... gay
thing, Mr Cook."  "Yes," Tom said, shifting in his chair, "your society."
"Oh!" Jordan smiled, "I was the secretary of the society for the last year,
although a member for two years. I've been responsible for organising..."
Tom laughed: "Yes, yes but what I want to know is how much fucking did you
lot do?"  "Wh... what?" Jordan was certain that he had misheard.  "Fucking,
boy. I assume you get your little arse slammed at every meeting, didn't
you?" Tom's voice was thick with the hunger he was experiencing as he
looked at the pale boy begin to blush. Jordan couldn't speak: his mouth was
moving but no words were coming out. "There's no need to be shy here,
Jordan. I bet you just loved getting your twinky, little arse filled with
as much cock as you could find. Probably a complete cum-junkie." At that,
Tom stood up from behind the desk, revealing his open trousers and the fact
that all nine inches of his cock was jutting out from his body, the head
flared with an angry red. Unbeknownst to Jordan, the older man had opened
his zipper as soon as he'd sat down and had spent the entire interview
working his meat whilst looking at the ruby-red lips of the delicious boy
in front of him. He knew exactly what he was going to do to this one and
he'd grown tired of waiting.

Jordan's mouth dropped open. Despite the suggestions in Mr Cook's
questions, the boy was actually a virgin and had never seen a cock like
Tom's in his life, let alone had one walking its way towards him. For a few
moments, he was frozen to the spot with this monstrous cock getting closer
and closer but, as it neared, he snapped out of it.  "What the fuck!" he
heard himself exclaim as he rose from the stool and moved backwards towards
the door. He tore his eyes away to look Tom directly in his own: "What the
hell are you doing? Don't you dare come near me."  Tom paused - this wasn't
the response he had been expecting.  "I mean... what on Earth is going on?"
Jordan had certainly found his voice now and he could feel that little seed
growing quickly into a mighty oak, "First, you keep me waiting for over an
hour and then don't even have the decency to apologise when you get
there. Then, you start on with those stupid questions about sex and, what,
now you're trying to... I don't know even know what you're trying to do..."
He walked quickly over the door and took hold of the handle.

It was Tom's turn to be stunned. You see, this didn't happen to him. If he
wanted a boy, he got that boy. At least, every time that the boy he wanted
was gay or bi. He'd even had his share of 'straight' men on the end of his
cock. And he'd gone through all of the applicants and reviewed their social
media, deliberately picking three twinks that he knew would let him do
whatever the hell he wanted to them. Sure, there'd be complaints later but
that was only because all of the little sluts would be craving more of his
cock and he would have already moved on. In his entire life, he'd never
experienced someone reacting like this to him. As the handle to the door
rattled, he found his voice: "Go on then, get the fuck out and you can
forget about a job here, you fucking tease."  Jordan had pulled open the
door at this point and had already begun to stop out but he stopped, turned
around and looked Tom dead in the eye. "Fuck... you..." he said, slowly and
purposefully. As the door slammed behind the boy, Tom sank down onto the
stool where his peachy, little arse had been sat only moments before. For a
second, he looked almost thoughtful but then reached over and hit the
buzzer.  "Anna, send the next one in."

It took no time at all for the next young candidate to be stepping over the
threshold of Tom's corner office. Of course, he hadn't been expecting to
see a complete stud waiting for him with the biggest cock he'd ever seen
pointing right at him. "Hi, I'm Curtis..." he stopped mid-sentence and his
jaw dropped to the floor. Tom wasn't messing around now: he was horny as
fuck and wasn't interested in playing any stupid games. He looked right at
the twink and simply asked one question: "How badly do you want the job?"

Literally seconds later, Curtis had his lips wrapped around the huge
mushroom head of Tom's cock. Even that had been a stretch for the
nineteen-year old but, fuck, he wanted that cock. Any thoughts of the job
or the company were already out of his head: his focus was entirely on the
task at hand and he began sucking for all he was worth.

"Mmm... that's a good slut," Tom groaned out as he felt the twink's tongue
swirl around the head of his meaty uncut cock, "but don't you fucking tease
me. I know you can take it deeper." He took hold of the boy's head and
pushed it down, feeling the first couple of inches of his shaft slide over
Curtis' tongue and hit the back of his throat. Curtis gagged as the
engorged head tried to push its way through. "No, no," Tom said, firm, "You
can take this: I've seen your onlyfans, you filthy little whore." With
that, he forced the boy down, despite Curtis' hands pushing against the
stronger man's thick and powerful thighs. Nothing was going to stop him
getting balls deep in this boy's throat and, regardless of how much the
twink gagged and choked, he didn't stop. He felt himself pop through the
throat's defences and into the boy's neck.

Curtis was completely helpless as his head was pulled back and forth along
this huge cock. In truth, he didn't mind being face-fucked but wasn't at
all used to guys just going straight into it like Tom was doing. His gag
reflex was in full force and he could feel his neck bulging as his throat
was violated. The meat was removed from his throat and Curtis felt the
slime from his throat following it up and out of his mouth. It coated the
shaft of Tom's dick and splattered back against the young twink's face.

"Dirty slut," Tom remarked as he forced his cock back into the boy. With a
hand on either side of the twink's head, he dragged him up and down his
cock, never going all the way in but not removing it either. "Fucking take
it!" he screamed out as he pulled the boy's head tightly towards him, his
balls hitting against Curtis' chin. Tom didn't give a shit whether the
other employees in the office heard him or not - it wouldn't be the first
time nor did he intend for it to be the last. Besides, the splutters of
Curtis' choking and gagged were definitely going to be audible in the
corridor. He held him there, the monster cock bulging out the twink's
throat and preventing him from breathing. Curtis' neck and cheeks began to
turn a deep red, the veins in his forehead standing out more prominently as
Tom looked down at him. The filthy boy was looking so sexy with his face
coated in throat-slime and his eyes red and streaming. Tom felt his cock
twitch inside of the slut's throat at the sight.

After what seemed like eternity to Curtis, he pulled back and, giving the
boy literally seconds to cough and gag before shoving his thick cock into
him again. This time, he slapped the twink before taking hold of his head
and keeping it in place as he began to move his hips. Tom knew that he
could thrust much faster than he could move the boy's head and his cock was
hungry for a real throat-fuck.

Curtis' eyes rolled back in his head as the dick was, once again, fucked in
and out of the depths of his throat. He'd never taken cock quite like this
before: even on his onlyfans account, he'd never been used quite this
harshly and, to be honest, he wished that he was being filmed right now as
he had his throat abused by a real dom. He felt Tom's rough hands on his
cheeks and the man's thumbs being forced past the boy's lips and inside of
his mouth. Tom used this hold to stretch open the twink's mouth wide,
focused only on the fuck of Curtis' throat and enjoying the sensation of
the boy's throat slime spurting out from around his cock every single time
the boy gagged.

"Fucking gag, you little nasty whore!" Tom was getting louder and louder,
"You fucking love this, you worthless slut!" He pulled his cock all the way
out of the boy's mouth; it was slick and shiny with the saliva and slime of
the boy. Curtis looked up at the man, the disappointment at finding himself
without the dick inside him was evident in his eyes. Taking hold of the
base, Tom brought his heavy tool down on the twink's pretty face, sending a
slapping noise around the office and, likely, down the corridor. He did it
again and again, covering the cute slut with slime until he couldn't even
open his eyes.

Tom looked down at the mess he had created across Curtis' face and, in
truth, was proud of his handiwork. He grabbed hold of the boy's neck,
wrapping his hands around it with one at each side and, again, powered his
cock into the willing slut. This time, as he forced it deep inside, he
could feel his thick meat bulging through the boy's neck. He squeezed,
tightening Curtis' throat even further again it: a hot, wet vice-like
embrace. Holding for just a moment, he felt his cock pulse and cried out:
"Fuck... yes! I'm going to fucking cum!"

Pulling back, he ordered Curtis to stick out his tongue, which the boy did
immediately. With the slime coating his cock acting as lube, he ran his
hand over it only a couple of times before he started shooting rope after
rope of thick, white spunk all over the waiting twink's face. "Take it,
Jordan. Take my fucking load you little ginger slut!" It splashed down
across his skin, mixing in with the saliva and slime, but also landed in
his hair; the white globs of cum standing out against the boy's raven
locks.

Tom grunted and groaned for what seemed like a full minute: spunk had
covered the boy in front of him and the last few droplets were oozing out
of the head of his cock and onto Curtis' tongue. Grabbing his phone from
his desk, he took a quick picture of his victim, his cock resting on the
twink's outstretched tongue. Only then did he push the boy away from him.

Curtis regained control of his breathing and wiped the cum and slime from
his eyes. Looking over at Tom, he spoke: "Who the fuck is Jordan?"

Tom didn't answer. He only had one thing to say to the boy whose throat
he'd just used: "Get out."

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Thanks so much for reading this. If you think that this story is worth
continuing, if you have any thoughts or if you just fancy a chat about it,
please let me know. You can get in touch with me at:
jacknifty@protonmail.com or by going to my twitter which is:
https://twitter.com/JackNifty