Warehouse Slut Boy

“Stop whining, you little cunt,” Greg held the boy steady and plugged back deep into his smooth rounded butt bent double over the shipping table in front of him. “Boy sluts like you can never get enough of these fat wood chucks stuffed up your soggy little butt chutes, can you?”

As I mentioned before, this is Greg Sullivan back there in the back growling like a beast in heat with his fly undone against the protesting yelps of the hardworking slut boy slowly easing his rugged barks into moans of sheer gratitude. Greg likes to be rough with the boy. Show his dominance like all the other sexually frustrated men working at the warehouse since it comes off his nagging wife Marge is a real ballbuster at home. I would chirp up and say something. Tell Greg to ease up on the poor boy, reminding him that a nut is still a nut no matter how much energy is put into achieving it. But every time I felt the son of a bitch had gone a little too far, stretching the boy out to ruin for the rest of us, Smythy let out this incredible wild shriek that makes every man working the floor sport an inspiring hard-on waiting his turn.

When the idea was originally presented to have a boy for the men to use like that, I said no fucking way! As the foreman, I saw it as too much of a distraction for my team. We had too much work to catch up on being so far behind with production. But after the initial novelty of having an in-house slut boy on the property wore off, we created an efficient system so that of the sixty or so men on staff, every man got their guaranteed crack at him during the week production couldn’t have been better!

It all began a few years ago, long before the latest warehouse slut stepped on the scene, when the economy tanked and brass decided to ream us a new one. The fucking bean-counters wanted a return on their investment after sending their children to these hoity-toity universities just for them to come back home and couch surf their lives away. So, they got rid of the last of the new hires we broke in and replaced them with their well-read brats on staff. Not theirs, ours. They came through the door with no respect dictating their learned notions of cost-effectiveness that automatically delayed us two months.

“Try something new,” they said. “There’s always a better way.”

When that “better way” didn’t work they wanted to jump down my throat because it eventually came down to the realization that their precious brats learned diddlysquat while they were in school. Just spitting stuff their professors might’ve said while fucking their parents out of their dough. And I couldn’t freely fire the snot-nosed bastards. Brass wasn’t having it.  And I loved my job at the warehouse too damn much to give it up that damn easy. It had been my dream job since I was a tyke, being surrounded by machinery and forklifts, men grunting and spitting and scratching balls at every turn. I was never going to be a rich son of a bitch doing what I did, but I made an honest living while still being good in life.

I’d nearly come to the end of my rope when a buddy of mine told me about some of the hazing practices that go on at these colleges. I had my wife and daughter pull up some of the shit they did and chose some of the best stuff that had some of those rotten bastards running for the hills! Shit they could never tell their parents without the fear of being disowned. The worst being, if we really didn’t like the guy, we’d lure the unsuspecting bastard to bob for rotten apples in a barrel of sour piss collected by the men in the department.

Once we finished cleaning house, it sort of became warehouse tradition to break in the rookie. Particularly those that were young and didn’t have any real ties to the warehouse like a friend or relative that might spare them our gore.

I thought I was having it pretty good again when my daughter came to me one day asking me for a favor. Her friend Matt needed a job and fast! I knew Matthieu. He was too good a kid to be studying about working manual labor. Unfortunately, I understood his predicament. He was one of those that had a dad in prison and a tramp of a mother nowhere to be found. Even knowing the circumstances, I wasn’t exactly thrilled about putting him up for a job in my department. It wasn’t so much I was worried about the kid seeing as I was worried about him reporting everything back to my daughter. I am everything to my little girl. The thought of her getting wind of some of the depraved shit I sometimes did at work was already ripping my heart apart. Of course, I gave Matt a good talking to about some of the shit he might see on the job and not speak of it outside of the warehouse. I also made sure that my staff knew Mat got a passed being with me for some of the shit they already had planned up their sleeve. Save it for the next guy, I warned.

I thought everything was smooth sailing in my world. I didn’t make a mistake hiring the kid. Mat was showing up on time doing his job. Hell, he had such a good work ethic I saw it rubbing off on some of the men working around him. It was like they were mad men getting the job done knowing that some kind of bonus was underway. Then one morning, I showed up early to have a meeting with brass to know what had gotten into my men when I heard one of the guys bark behind the metal racks:

“It’s just good razzing. Old Stuy doesn’t have to know.”

“He hadn’t caught on in about a month.” Another guy chuckled.

I’m Old Stuy. I wanted to know what was going on.

So, I peeked around the corner to find my men getting a special bonus. Matt sitting on his haunches on the discolored cement floor with three of my men standing around him with their dicks hanging out. Matt had his lips sealed around a fat juicy one with one shooting a huge white geyser on the side of his face with another working its way there.

I wasn’t greatly surprised. I didn’t worry about Matt and my daughter because I always suspected the boy to be a little queer. I thought he had enough restraint to do a guy or two behind my back, not three right there on the floor. I couldn’t ignore that one of the spectators said I hadn’t caught on in a month’s time. Ever since I hired him? And with so many sexually frustrated men on my staff, I knew a few of them had to be familiar with the kid, if not all of them, already, due to our hazing of some of the softer ones this way. I could go for a sweet blowjob. Why not thank me personally, Matt? The kind generous bastard that got you this sweet job.

I waited for all three men to lose their load when I came stomping out of the shadows making a scene.

“What the fuck is going on here?” I screamed.

The three men calmly peeled away stuffing their drained cocks in their pants leaving the poor sap to look like he was covered in hair conditioner with no way to rinse off.

“I can explain, sir, Mr. Stuyvesant.” Matt scurried up to his feet to wipe the caked evidence off his face.

“My office. Now!” I screeched. “And don’t you fucking dare think to clean yourself up. Cumslut!”

I stormed off in front of him with Matt trailing behind me in front of snickering workers looking on at him.

“How long have you been sucking off my staff?” I slammed the door after he took his seat.”

“First time, I swear.”

Lying cocksucker! “Don’t you fucking do that to me, son. You’re a born cocksucker to do three men right there on my floor and you work with nothing but men down there, so don’t tell me this is your first day on that job.”

“A few,” he confessed.

“How many is a few?”

“Several.”

“How many is that?”

“Ten or so…over the past month since I got here,” he downplayed his numbers. “I was cornered by a couple of the older guys to do it to fit in. Then the numbers started booming after that, making me suck them off out of view of everybody, like behind the warehouse with lookout or in the privacy of the bathroom stall with a Nosey Nancy looking in.”

“So, you’re telling me you’ve sucked off one-sixth of my department?”

“Yes, sir, probably,” the slut-shame now washing over him. “After it got past five I didn’t see the need to count anymore. They become blurs of cock after that.”

Slut. “How many cocks been stuffed up your butt? Same number?”

“No sir. None sir.” He stammered.

“Don’t lie to be, son. I hate lying cocksuckers.”

“I’ve only gobbed knobs, sir. I swear! Honest. I’ve never been fucked! They wanted to, they really wanted to, but the way big cocks pour out of their pants for me to suck, I don’t think I could take one going up the other end.”

I smirked with the word virgin flashing through my mind. “All cocksuckers eventually do have to learn how to take it up the rear, Matt.” I mumbled. I knew what I said didn’t escape his ear. “You want to keep your job, son?”

Matt nervously nodded.

“You’ll do anything to keep it, won’t you?” I asked.

He nodded again more nervous than before.

“Stand up and put your palms on the desk.” Matt did as he was told.

I came behind him inspecting every inch, pulling his shirt off and forcing him to pop his butt out next to my desk.

“If you feel things have gotten way out of hand, I understand. If you don’t want to keep your job anymore, you’re free to leave. No hard feelings. I’ll even help you find a new position somewhere that doesn’t require sucking cock as a skill set. If you choose to stay here, though, it is going to cost you something very dear and have you walking around like a fucking wishbone for the next couple of days or more. Got it?”

Matt stayed still, looking back at me as I grabbed a bottle of lube from my drawer.

I sat it right next to his hand along with my trusty cumrag. Cleanup for some personal Afternoon Delight.

I came behind him to pull down his pants. His beautiful pale rump. I squatted, parting his fleshly cheeks and found his puckered hole to spit heavily upon. The boy wasn’t lying. He was a virgin. His hole was so tight it barely welcomed any of my meaty fingertips. Matt started whimpering instantly, telling me to stop while encouraging me to keep on going.

“Oh god! This feeling!” Matt panted.

“Tell Daddy what it feels like, boy?” I teased, adding and taking away lubed digits.

“It hurts…and then it feels good. Oh man!” Matt reacted to my fingers twisting his insides.

I retorted. “Wait until I really get started, boy.”

Matt lifted his leg over my desk when I started tonguing his sweet virginal hole, trying to both run away and stay still.

“You think you can handle what I want to do to you next?” I asked, coming up behind him, slamming the top of the long end of my uncut cock against the full length of his crack before it popped over the small of his curved back in a dissolvent pearl of pre-cum

“I want it…inside of me…please, Mr. Stuy.” Matt gasped.

“You don’t know what you want, boy.”

“Yes, I do...I do. I do…I want it!”

“No, you don’t. You never had this.”

“I know. That’s why I want it so badly, Mr. Stuyvesant.”

Matt was begging for it like the slut he was born to be by then and seemed a little miffed when I took some of the lube and spread it all over my huge cock and his small, wrinkled man chute. “Say goodbye to your sweet virginity, son,” I growled lining up my shot inside of him.

His previous arrogance balked at the tip of my dick knocking against his backdoor.

I laughed.

I pushed in. He pushed me back out. I pushed the head in again. His hole pushed me back out. I plunged even further fighting the resistance of his ring, but once I thought I had made some headway passed the barrier he pushed me back even further.

“Push out, cunt.” I advised him, not wanting to hurt him.

Matt pushed out, letting me in a little further when the tightness of his center pushed back again. But I finally felt I got him open enough to let me in. I warned, “Here it comes, son.”

Matt screamed audibly after I got it all in. “Holy Shit! Mother of Fuck!”

“That’s called a virgin boy finally getting it in the ass!” I taunted.

I started fucking him slowly. In and out I went, letting him get used to the slick invader making mincemeat out of his sweet, freshly popped cherry. Once I started reaching up on the boy toying with his nipples, it was like I found the valve switch to open his butthole because it went from being airtight to me stretching him out completely to his stretched-out hole hungrily slurping my cock for all the ball juice it was worth.

“Calm down, son,” I said gripping his sweating midsection doggy-style. “A real man can’t come quickly like a boy jacking off alone in his bedroom. He’s gotta make sure you know who owns his hole.”

Matt could’ve been mistaken for a pro the way his hole took it all in, including my nutsack drenched in lube, if it wasn’t for him carrying on like a little girl being pestered by a bug. I had to put a stop to that by reaching over and stuffing his sweet mouth with my old cumrag.

“Gotta keep you quiet, son. I know you want to be fucked. But carrying on like that you’ll call out every dick in the place, and you’d never know what a recuperated asshole would feel like ever again!”

I fucked him for a long time after that. My office became sweltering with our heat before I flipped him onto his back on the desk. Before when I looked into his eyes, he was Matt the Filthy Cum-Collecting Cocksucker. Now he was Matt the Slut, open for any hard cock that came his way. With his legs draped over my strapping arms and his hands cupped around my neck clenching for dear life, even I was amazed at how many times I could pull right out of him and sink my dick right back in his guts. He looked so handsome with the rag still in his cum-soaked mouth and sprays of cum shooting out of his unmolested cock.

“Unngh! Unngh! Unngh!” Matt screamed louder into the cumrag. Then he let out this insurmountable amount of cum drain from his cock and his body went flat.

I kept on fucking him, yanking the rag from his mouth. His cherry was good and gone. Matt became a renewed blubbering mess of begs and groans before I rammed my dick deep inside of him. I watched him helplessly cum all over himself again, and the twisting tightness of his hole help me spray my hot load deep into his bottomless pit.

“Shit!”

I was sitting at my desk wiping my dick clean of virgin butt juice when his raised legs found the strength to fall over the desk forcing him to stand. “Turn around. Spread your legs and touch your toes.” I spoke. It took all the strength he had left in his body, but he did everything that was asked. “Spread your cheeks.” Matt obliged, instantly farting out a boatload of sticky white runoff dripping down his skinny thighs. “Good boy!” I laughed.

After the initial sleepiness that comes with a pair of drained balls, I felt more productive the rest of the day. Like a load had been lifted off me. I was beginning to see the effects Matt had on some of the guys out on the floor. I couldn’t fuck him all day every day. I had a lot of work to do in between time. But knowing I would get back to him soon made sure I didn’t have any unnecessary backup in my work schedule to get in my way to get me into hot water, or worst, fired.

I had Matt’s ass for a couple of weeks to myself before I traded in his slushy buttslot for a decent blowjob. He was totally hot in the ass by then, and in need of daily deposits. When word got out that his ass was open to the floor, endless lines of men grew out of both his holes waiting their turns.

After staggering the men, to give each their turn, production went into overdrive. Sixty knowing for sure that at least twice a week they were going to bust a nut, even if they weren’t afforded the luxury to do so at home or during their downtime was the incentive they needed. So much so that the job Matt was hired to do was picked up by all the men on staff in exchanged that he stayed in the back for twelve hours straight to help any man with any pent-up problem he might have. Each taking their sweet precious turn, of course.