Date: Sat, 18 Mar 2006 15:17:56 +0000 From: Nake Body Subject: Sperm Farm Chapter 6 Comments about this story are welcomed by the author, who will endeavour to reply to all emails on the subject. Sperm Farm Chapter 6: The Difficult Day By the time Daniel returned to his room after resting and having breakfast, a package had been deposited on his dressing table. He anxiously opened it. It contained a plastic bag containing a number of garments, and a letter headed `Punishment Detail'. Daniel started to read it. `Your name has been put forward for a Punishment Session by Ejaculation Officer Derek. `You will attend at the Punishment Centre at 11.30 pm on Wednesday next. `On arrival at the Centre, you will report to your Punishment Manager. `The Manager allocated to administer your punishment is Melanie Sykes. `You must shower before leaving your room, and wear only the enclosed punishment kit. `Any ejaculation made during your punishment session will not count towards your overall contract target for bonus calculations. `Any ejaculation made during your punishment session will not entitle you to a change in your agreed programme of donations. You will be required to attend the 7am Thursday session in Ejaculation Room 1 as normal.' "Hell!" thought Daniel. "What was it Melanie said about getting me back?" He wondered what happened during Punishment Sessions, and determined to ask Gerry tomorrow. Friday and Saturday came and went, and Daniel struck up quite a good relationship with Derek and Eric. He got used to Eric's hands running over his genitals to get him hard, followed by the attention of all four hands forcing him to cum. "You know, you've got a lovely touch," he complimented them. "I enjoy letting my hands wander over you," responded Derek "Sorry I had to book you the other day." "Hmm! Can't you cancel the punishment duty?" asked Daniel. "No, sorry. Once booked, it's obligatory, even if it's proved you were unfairly reported. Arrangements are made and resources committed, you see. You obviously haven't read it up in your manual, yet!" Daniel took the opportunity to ask Gerry about Punishment Sessions. "Don't know a lot," muttered Gerry. "Never been on one!" "There! And I thought with your big mouth you would be bound to have upset some jumped up manager and get booked before now! But doesn't word get out?" "All I k now from my contacts is that there are a whole range of different punishments. It depends on which you have been selected for." "Like what different sorts?" pressed Daniel. "Apparently some punishments are carried out in front of a paying audience of outsiders. Typical of this lot to turn everything into a money-making opportunity. But I don't know what these `performances' consist of. Everyone I've met who's been in one clams up. I seem to remember the contract calls for absolute secrecy about the sessions." That was all Daniel could elicit - and it didn't help relieve his anxiety as Wednesday approached. Time passed quite quickly for him. He developed a routine of taking a swim after his post-ejaculation rest. It was a fair sized indoor pool with a diving board. No trunks was the rule for Residents, but staff were also allowed to use the pool and swimwear for them was obligatory. From the staff, the pool mainly attracted females, who were largely attracted by a large sign near the deep end proclaiming: `Residents are strictly forbidden to touch staff or other residents in or out of the pool.' By implication, therefore, staff were permitted to touch residents. Few visits passed without Daniel feeling a hand or two groping him underwater, and not only females, either. After his swim, he would go back to his room, change into his prescribed day wear - skimpy shorts and tight T-shirt, and saunter down to the restaurant for a cooked breakfast at about nine thirty. The rest of the day he would spend walking around the extensive grounds, and reading. Evenings would be spent in the lounge watching TV in the company of other residents. It was Sunday that everything seemed to happen. He was walking down the corridor to the restaurant when he passed a couple of staffers coming out, a man and a girl in their thirties. The girl, whose ID badge proclaimed her to be a `manager' held up her hand as Daniel approached. "Strip!" she ordered. "What?" gasped Daniel, taken by surprise. "Don't question my authority," she shouted at him. "If you don't strip immediately I'll put you on punishment duty," she threatened. Daniel hurriedly stepped out of his disposable flip-flops, and stripped off his T-shirt and socks, throwing them to the ground. "Put your hands on your head, and part your legs," barked the martinet manager. When Daniel had taken up the position ordered, she inspected him thoroughly, sniffing his armpits, and prodding his stomach. She took hold of his penis and twisted it every way, examining it from all angles. "Now bend over!" she ordered. When he was bent double, she pulled his arse cheeks apart and had a good look between them. "OK! You're clean!" she agreed. "I'll give you a grade 1." She looked at the ID badge hanging from his neck. "Daniel Brown," she said, and her colleague entered it on his hand held. She flipped the badge over, and compared the photo on the reverse with his penis. "Positive ID," she said. Her colleague pressed Enter, and they continued on their way. Daniel now had to scoop up his clothes, dump them in the bin down the corridor, walk naked to his room and take a shower, then dress again before getting in to breakfast. By the time he'd done that it was nearly ten thirty. "Bacon, egg, sausage," he ordered at the serving counter. "Sorry, cooked breakfast's over!" came the response. "Should have got here sooner!" "I would have been if it hadn't been for that fucking jumped up manager cow who strip checked me," he complained. Daniel said this in such a loud voice, everyone in the restaurant turned their heads. A female diner immediately jumped up and walked over to Daniel. His heart sank as he noticed from her badge that she, Hilda, was also manager. Shit, this place must be teeming with the bastards, he thought. "I resent that insult to one of my colleagues," she screamed at him. "Go on, then. Put me on Punishment Donation." "No! I'm going to punish and humiliate you here and now! Gather round, everyone!" Some thirty diners picked up their meals and moved to tables closer to the action. Hilda cleared one table completely. "Take your shorts off!" she ordered. Daniel removed his shorts, and Hilda snatched them from him. She stared at his genitals. "What a nasty little prick," she said contemptuously. Bring me a bucket of iced water, someone," she ordered. Daniel stood naked from the waist down in front of the onlookers. The bucket was produced, and Hilda immersed the shorts in it, making sure they stayed fully submerged. "Now bend over that table – lay your chest on it with your arms outstretched," she ordered Daniel. Daniel spreadeagled himself across the table. Hilda pulled him away from it a bit, so that he was only supported from the waist up. "Spread your legs!" she barked. Miserably, Daniel moved his feet apart. Not satisfied with his efforts, Hilda took each foot and pulled it even further away from the other one, until he was absolutely stretched. "Now watch everybody. This is what happens to donors who insult me or my colleagues," she said. Slipping her left hand under Daniel's waist, she cupped his testicles and held them firmly. Then with her right hand she gave Daniel six sharp slaps to each buttock, pausing between each one to keep him guessing where and when the next would land, keeping her grip on his balls the whole time. When she had finished she instructed him to get up, and walk around the tables so everyone could get a good view of his red backside. Then she pulled his shorts out of the bucket, and handed them to Daniel, icy cold and soaking wet. "Now put these on and get out of here," she shouted. Daniel pulled on the icy dripping shorts, and made his way back to his room once again. It was just not his day. By now it was nearly eleven thirty, and he abandoned an idea of having a breakfast. He just couldn't face going back into the restaurant following his humiliating experience in there. He was just drying off his cold wet bottom, when the tannoy in the corridor crackled. "The residents from the following rooms are required to make their way to the Client Donor Suite in their Line-Up Kit: Room Numbers 14, 37, 59, 81, and 83. Thank you!" "Ouch! That's me!" thought Daniel. He hadn't even read the manual on what the line-up kit consisted of. Still, he wouldn't need to take a shower - he'd already had four today - so he had a few minutes to look up the information. To be continued ... Next: The Client Donation