OFFICE WHORE

I’d been an intern for about six months at one of the largest law firms in the country, and I was a damn hard worker. Graduated from Harvard, top of my class. Professional. Achieved every benchmark put in front of me. My future was bright and I was climbing the ladder exactly as I’d planned. That’s until Dominique Marcum found out I was gay.

Marcum is the head of the company, a powerful man who could destroy my life with a phone call. He hated anybody different from him, and even though he was a HUGE dickhead homophobe, he didn’t mind blackmailing me for the occasional blowjob. It’s not that I hated it. He was a handsome, powerful man in expensive suits. A little older than I normally go for, but very alpha male and incredibly sexy. Yeah, I may have been into him and enjoyed it, but being forced to choke his huge cock down because he had my future in the palm of his hands made it torture.

I started to think about my backup plan. Maybe look for positions at other firms, but it’s a small community and he’d have blackballed me before I could turn in my resignation. That’s when I ran into THE SHOP. It was almost as if it came out of nowhere, and I could’ve sworn I’d never seen it before, but there it was . . . an old, super creepy potions and spells shop. I thought it was a gag gift store until I walked in, the old woman behind the counter knowing everything about me before I could say a word. She handed me a small pouch of powder and told me to put in in his morning coffee and my life would change forever.

Long story short, the next morning Marcum was downing whatever was in that pouch and I was waiting to see what would happen. I know it’s crazy to believe in shit like that, but about an hour later, something remarkable happened. One minute I’m in the file room and the next I’m sitting in Marcum’s office . . . sitting at his desk.

His assistant, Kimberly, walked in and I stood, ready to come up with some kind of explanation.

“I know I shouldn’t be in here, but--”

“Don’t worry, your meeting got moved,” she said, placing a few folders on the desk in front of me. I didn’t know how to respond as she grabbed the cold coffee off the desk. “You need anything else, Mr. Marcum?”

I shook my head as she raised an eyebrow and turned, closing the door behind her.

“Mr. Marcum?” I said, suddenly noticing my voice was much different, yet familiar. I glanced down at my hands, noticed the expensive three-piece suit complete with expensive cufflinks and watch. I stepped over to the bar, the mirror on the wall revealing what I’d already figured out.

“Well, I'll be damned,” I said, Dominique Marcum staring back at me. Reaching up, I touched the stubble on his face . . . on my face. I ran his strong fingers over his lips, my hands over his receding hairline before I straightened my tie with a smirk. “I’m Dominque Marcum,” I repeated, the weight of what had happen settling in. The entire experience was surreal, and I felt my new cock getting hard. May as well take it out and give it a spin, right?

After all, I was the boss now, which meant he was in my old body and would learn, firsthand, what it felt like to crave cock twenty-four-seven.

It’s been two weeks now since we swapped bodies and things have changed quite a bit. I’m running the firm, and I’m damn good at it. I’m also straight, which took some getting used to, but I love my thick new cock and eating pussy is kind of, well, I’m really fucking good at it.

What happened to the real Marcum? Well, he’s been settling into his new life, but doesn’t have the willpower I used to have. He’s become quite the little cocksucker in the break room during lunch. Best blow jobs in town. I mean, I would know . . . after all, I am the boss.