“Work Related Stress” by Nemo

 
Donald Carter's driver was amazed, when while driving though one of the rougher parts of the city, his boss suddenly yelled "Stop! Pull over!" His driver, knowing better to ask why, simply pulled the town car in to the kerb and drew up alongside a phone booth. He was inwardly surprised again, when Mr Carter opened the window of his car and leant over to address the half-naked man standing in the booth.

"Campbell? What on earth are you doing. You're a disgrace!" The man that Donald Carter had addressed as Campbell, leant forward unsteadily, clinging onto the phone with one hand for balance. He pushed back the shades he was wearing onto the top of his head and then took a long drag of his cigarette, before taking it out of his mouth. He looked at Donald Carter and then opened his mouth "You'rrre not what I or..ordered" he slurred. Before Donald Carter could react to this strange announcement, Campbell had dragged the phone back round to his mouth. "I ordered... hot horny... college jock." he managed, after a few stops and starts "and you send me.. fucking old and wrinkly. I'm not fuckkkingg... that. I want the horney jock here... now!" he finished in a sudden rush. At the same time he shoved his free hand inside his briefs and started pumping away at his cock.

Donald Carter, who'd been silenced by the sight of his VP for marketing having a public melt-down was revolted by the sight of this further display and tried again to intervene. "Campbell!" he barked, in the tone his subordinates had learned to dread "Pull yourself together." This time Campbell seemed to recognise something in his bosses voice as he took the time to try to hang up the phone. He gave it two or three futile events, missing his target each time, before he gave up and let it fall. He shuffled forward, his pants still around his ankles and tried to crouch in front of the car window before he dropped to his knees. As he hit the ground with a thud, he groped for the whiskey bottle on the ground, and when he found it he held it up to his hands hopefully and then sadly discarding it when he realised it was empty. His attempt at a drink a failure, he turned his attention back to his boss.

"Mister Carter!" he said with the happy tones of the staggeringly drunk "What are you doing here? Are you after a hot...." he belched and continued "college jock as well?" he finished blinking, owlishly.

Donald Carter who'd involuntarily leant back, as his VP belched, leant forward again with grim determination. "Campbell, you're not the first man I've seen brought to ruin by drink and you won't be the last." His tone softened, ever so slightly. "But I'm not going to throw you away after all the work you've done. You're going to take some time off work and spend it in a facility I know of. In six months you'll be a new man." he finished.

A look of vague horror crossed Campbell's face "But, but.. who'll do my work" he managed to slur.

"That's not your problem Campbell, but I'm sure your assistant can handle everything until your return. Now go home and I'll have a private ambulance pick you up in the morning." Campbell stared at Donald Carter for a moment, before bursting into sobs of what sounded like relief, as far as his boss could make out from the few words that made sense. He raised the window of the car and motioned to his driver to move off, while he picked up the car phone and rang the number of a old psychiatrist friend of his who specialised in the burn outs his office produced every so often. As the car pulled away, the last sight the driver had in his rear view mirror was of Campbell, still slumped sobbing on the sidewalk, before the care turned a corner and he was lost to sight.

About thirty seconds after the car was gone, the sobbing figure suddenly stopped crying. He pushed himself up off the sidewalk and with no obvious difficulty, pulled his pants back up, tucked his shirt in neatly and then fastened his belt. His cigarettes were discarded and his shades tucked inside his jacket, carefully folded. He reached behind the phone booth and drew out an expensive looking briefcase. He put it down on the shelf below the phone and popped it open. He paused then to check no-one was around and then looking at his reflection in the mirror on the inside of the briefcase lid, he reached up to his neck and probed delicately with his fingers. After a few seconds he found the edge he was looking for and slipped his fingers underneath it before pulling sharply upwards with both hands. His face crumpled as he ripped it up and off, revealing a very different face underneath. The mask was dropped into the briefcase and the guy pulled out a neck-tie and tied it around his neck. He adjusted his hair in the mirror and then with one final check of his newly smart appearance, closed the briefcase and walked swiftly away from the phone booth. The entire process had taken less than two minutes, leaving no trace of either Campbell or the man who'd be impersonating him.

Later that same day, the same guy let himself into an apartment, briefcase still in hand. As he closed the door behind him he heard a voice call out "Hey baby, I'm in the kitchen. Come and join me." The guy smiled and walked down the hall and into the kitchen area. As he entered the room a cute looking built guy in his late twenties, came over and kissed him full on the lips. The two men stood locked together in a passionate embrace for a few moments before the guy, gently prised his lover off him, one hand still holding his briefcase. "Well I missed you too Scott." he said, with an air of mischief, "but what have I done to deserve that as soon as I walk in."

"Oh, you've done nothing." replied Scott "but I've had some incredible news and I'm just so excited about it."

"Well go on, spill the beans." replied the first guy.

"My boss Greg Campbell has had a complete nervous breakdown and the CEOs had him packed off to some nut house for six months. And guess who's going to step in to take his place.?"

"Is it that girl Janine who works with you?" asked the first guy, playfully.

"No, you bastard." said Scott in mock anger, thumping the first guy in the top of the arm "It's me, of course. You know Ryan, a better boyfriend wouldn't have had to be prompted."

"Well then I'm sorry for being a bad boyfriend." He stepped in closer to Scott and kissed him on the mouth again. "How can I ever make it up to you?"

"I did think you could take me out to dinner to celebrate." said Scott.

"Of course baby. But let me get out of my suit first."

"Sure thing. Oh I forgot you said you had an important meeting today. How did it go?" asked Scott

"Oh it went just fine." replied Ryan "But tonight's about you. Now why don't you make me one of your amazing Martinis, while I get changed." and he gave a peck on the cheek to Scott and headed back down the hall to the bedroom. Once inside he pushed the door to with a quiet 'click'. He knew he'd only have a few minutes grace while Scott made his drink. He stepped up to his closet and opened the door. He stepped inside and reached to the back where he triggered the secret catch. The rear wall of the closet swung back, revealing a small space about 2 feet deep. Ryan reached up and pushed aside a few hangers, trying to muffle the scrape they made as he moved them. From each hanger dangled a full length anatomically correct male body-suit, each different. One was black, one looked Hispanic, two were smooth and another two were covered in thick body hair. One was covered in tattoos and one had only a pair of Greek letters tattooed on the shoulder. He ignored all of them and instead, opened his briefcase and lifted out the mask of Greg Campbell he'd worn earlier. On back wall of the recess were some shelves and they were covered with wig stands, each supporting a different face mask that matched the body-suits. Again they varied as much as as the suits, some clean shaven, one with goatee and one with a long scar down one cheek. Next to each mask was a small box with wallet, ID and cell phone. Again he ignored all of these and dumped the mask of Greg on an empty shelf, not even bothering to store it on an empty stand. If all went well he'd have no further need of it, but he'd hang on to it just in case.

Aware that Scott would be along with his drink any minute, he started backing out the hidden storage space. As always he wondered how Scott would react if he knew about Ryan's secret lives, but as discretion won out over curiosity. His employers tolerated a certain leeway in the personal use of suits, but their existence had to remain a secret. His fingers lingered on the Hispanic skin. Maybe it was time for a visit from the pool boy, Juan. Scott was always so horny after Juan's visit to the apartment complex. Their poolside bedroom gave Scott an ample view of Juan's firm young body and Ryan used every trick he knew to get Scott hard, knowing he'd reap the benefits later. He'd thing about it later, but for now he had a celebration to get ready for, and if Scott never knew how much he owed to Ryan, well that was fine with Ryan. He closed the closet door and began to get changed.