Wesley Bracken
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Halloween Shorts #5 - Just a Job
🕑 Added 2023-10-20 20:32:58 +0000 UTCJake had needed a job, but he certainly didn’t have much interest in doing much work. Jake was an artist at heart, but art didn’t really pay the bills, and so he bounced from job to job, stealing as much time as he could to work on his stuff as he could, until the boss caught on and fired him. It didn’t bother Jake though, he could care less about these corporate monstrosities in all honesty. This job though, as soon as he’d started, he could sense that something was a bit off about the place and the people who worked there. He didn’t quite know how to describe it, beyond a sense that everyone doing the shittiest jobs at the company somehow seemed to really enjoy the work they were doing. It was boring-ass data entry, but the guys around him, these rotund, suit wearing office drones—all kept talking about how important their work was, that they kept the company going and how proud that made them all. It was idiotic—but Jake found it easy enough to sneak his digital tablet in, get the bare minimum amount of work done, and spend the rest of the day dicking around with his drawings.
The boss eventually cottoned onto his lower productivity, as they always did. Ken, his supervisor, called him into his office one morning, and Jake figured that the jig was up. He’d probably get terminated, which would give him some time on unemployment, and some actual time to work on his art at least. He walked into Ken’s office and sat down across from him at the desk. Ken was probably a little younger than he was, a carbon copy corporate rat with his slim body, slicked back hair and that smirk all these sorts of guys seemed to have permanently on their faces. Sure enough, Ken told him that he wasn’t being as productive as the company would like, that he was goofing off on company time, but when Jake figured the hammer would fall and he’d be getting a pink slip, instead Ken told him that he’d be going through a specialized training course, to help him better understand the company values. All he’d have to do is watch some videos each day at work, and show some improvement.
Jake almost laughed as he left Ken’s office. What an idiot, watch a few videos and keep collecting a paycheck? How dumb could these corporate fucks be, really? He went back to his workstation, and saw that a new screen had popped up—his first training video apparently. He sat down and watched it, and saw the fucking thing was an hour long. Still, it’s not like he was working, so he sat there while the screen droned on about the corporations values and expectations, and soon enough he had zoned out entirely. The video ended, and Jake spent the rest of the day doing his data entry diligently. He might as well keep his nose down for the moment, and keep this gravy train running a bit longer than he’d expected.
Each day, there would be another video waiting for him when he got to work, all of them at least an hour long. That seemed like more of a drain on productivity than anything else, but after the first week, Jake found himself putting in more effort. He’d reach his quota, where he’d usually stop and start dicking around, and just do a few more tasks instead. It felt…good, didn’t it, doing a good job? Supporting the company? As the days went by, he spent less and less time drawing, even when he was at home in his apartment. It just didn’t seem to hold his interest anymore. Instead, he found himself putting in more and more hours at work. At first, he’d stay a little late, just to finish up a few things. Then, he started coming in early, just to get a jump start on his work—and maybe to watch an extra training video or two, while he was at it.
He didn’t really notice the changes that were starting to show on his body, either. Jake had been a rather hip looking man in his mid thirties, lean, tattoos, with a shaggy haircut and scruffy face. Slowly though, he was beginning to gain weight. All of the time he was spending in his cubicle, the snacks he’d keep eating so he wouldn’t have to break away for much, they were rapidly adding to an expanding waistline. He outgrew his clothes, and instead of buying the usual thrift store punk stuff he had worn before, he found himself gravitating towards the suit racks. He just felt so much more professional in a tight button up shirt, slacks and a jacket, after all. Looking professional was an important company value after all. Then, there were changes that were more difficult to explain, like how his tattoos started fading one day, and a week later, had disappeared entirely. Or how he started losing his body hair, then the hair on his head, until he was forced to go to a barber and get a rather ugly looking comb over that made him look ten years older—not that the gray that had begun to appear helped either. He also didn’t have to shave anymore—it was like the hair on his face stopped growing entirely, leaving him no way to disguise the second, and third chin appearing around his fattening face. Then, there was the fact that he was certain his balls and cock were shrinking—not that he really needed them, he supposed. In all honesty, sex had started seeming a little…disgusting to him. A waste of time. Most things were a waste of time, actually. He junked all of his drawing equipment one day, and felt so much better. It was important to put childish things behind him now that he had a career at a company he cared so deeply about. He couldn’t afford any distractions.
Six months into his new training, Jake fit in perfectly with his other coworkers—just another chubby, suited, dumpy office drone, eager to talk about how much he loved working for this company that had given him so much. His work output was impressive—so impressive, that Jake was called into Ken’s office, and told that he was going to be given a special assignment, given how eagerly he’d taken to his training.
“You see Jake, the company has noticed morale slipping among the executives in the company, and I thought that you might be the perfect fellow to help us all out,” Ken said. “You’d do anything for the company, wouldn’t you Jake?”
“Well of course, Sir!” he said, “The company is everything to me.”
“And so you’d do anything for the executives, right? After all, the company can’t keep going if they aren’t totally satisfied.”
“That’s right! That’s why they pay you the big bucks, Sir.”
“Well you know what would make me happy, Jake? More than anything? What would send my productivity sky high? Is if you bent over my desk there, dropped your pants, and let me fuck that fat, office drone ass of yours.”
It didn’t really make that much sense to Jake, but what did he know? He was just a stupid office drone, just a dumb data entry grunt on the ground floor. He dropped his suitpants, bent over, and let Ken fuck his hole. Jake didn’t feel much—in fact, he found himself thinking he could probably do this and data entry at the same time. Once Ken had finished in his ass, and Jake had pulled his pants back up, he told Ken as much.
“That’s an ok idea, I suppose, but how about this?” Ken said, “I’ll have your cubicle equipped with a fuck bench starting tomorrow. That way, you can spend all day helping out executive morale, and getting your work done, at the same time.”
“That’s a great idea, Boss! Way better than mine,” Jake said.
“And don’t think you’re getting a raise—you’ll be doing this for the company’s sake, right?”
“Of course, Sir. Money doesn’t matter to me. I’m here to serve the company, nothing more.”
“You’re a good employee, Jake. Keep it up, and there might be a promotion in your future,” Ken said, that same smirk on his face.
“Oh no,” Jake said, “I don’t know about that. I’m perfectly happy, right where I am, doing the important work of an office grunt,” Jake said, and headed back to his office, his boss’s cum leaking out into his underwear, pleased to know he was doing such a good job, for such a great company.
