Date: Sun, 12 Nov 2006 09:15:38 EST
From: SANIBELBOYS@aol.com
Subject: a lesson in time part 4

This story is (C)Copyright 2006, by  TM. All World Wide Rights Reserved.
This story may not be sold or made part  of any collection without prior
written
permission.

A Lesson In Time,  Chapter  Four


We both just seemed to look at one another for a moment before dad began
speaking, once more. "Son, you don't understand. Nobody out there knows that you
 are my son. They expect to see nothing less, nothing more than a mere
simple,  well behaved slave boy. They want to see you and feel your penis. I just don
't  think that you, or any of us are ready to see something like that. It is
one  thing for family and such, but you've no idea what it will be like,
having to  stand there and allow them to inspect  you."

I  soaked in every syllable and word dad said. "Yes, I think I understand
where you  are coming from. However, being your intern, I'm here to learn and
also to help  the company prosper. If I can't do this one thing now, how can I
expect myself  to learn what I need to know to work here after my internship is
over?  Certainly, after what I've been through this morning, another few pairs
of eyes  staring at my penis can't be all that bad. Let's just go in there
and get this  over with."

Dad walked slowly over to the wall, pressed a button on the intercom and
required someone's attention. In less than a minute, a tall man, around 32 years
old, came into lunch room. He was dressed as if he was going to church or
some  nice function. "Yes Sir, How may I be of  assistance?"

Dad introduced me to him, a Mr. Willard Alderton, and he seemed rather nice.
Dad  quickly told him of our situation and in no uncertain terms was he to
reveal my  true identity. Seems, our Mr. Alderton, is or was a rather highly
respected  slave trainer for about eight years and had caught the eye of one of dad
's  employees; thus his expertise in slave handling and training would
certainly  become  invaluable.

"Kevin you do understand what this means don't you?" Mr. Alderton
questioned.  "You know that it will have to appear that you are a slave, or at least a
soon  to be slave in training and that I will have to appear as your  handler."

I  took a fast look towards my father and answered, "Yes. I'm pretty sure I
can  handle most of it."
That said, dad went back to the intercom, "Margaret, I'll need a free
passage  from the Executive lunch room down to the second floor presentation room,
please. I'll need about ten minutes before I'll need it, so that should give
you  plenty of time to alert building security and anybody else that needs to
assist."

"Ok  then it's all taken care of", dad said rather sullenly. "I'll go on
down and let  our guest know that you'll be down in a few minutes. An extra
glass of wine,  will keep them entertained until then." Dad turned and walked out
of the room,  destined to re-join his  guests.

"Right now, just follow me back over to my office and we'll get you squared
away  right quickly Kevin", Mr. Alderton said in a rather polite tone of
voice.

The  two of us went perhaps four offices down and entered his office. It was
rather  neat, with everything seemingly in its place. I'm guessing that
everybody here  has to keep a tidy office, if they expect to work here. It reminds
me a lot of  home, where everything has a place and a place for everything, mom
always used  to say to us  kids.

"Alright now Kevin, let's start by placing your hands behind your back." Mr.
 Alderton said with a  smile.

I  placed my hands, as he had requested; and then next thing I feel is the
cold  hardness of steel, as both of my hands are cuffed behind  me.

"You'll  have to excuse the way I do things. It's just out of habit I suppose
", he said,  still in a most dignified  way.

The  next thing I know, my shorts are being shoved down to my shoes. Mr.
Alderton  makes little work of removing my shoes, and shorts before he cuts the
tee shirt  off of my  chest.

"I  could have removed my shirt first. You didn't have to cut it off", I
said in a  most rather disappointing tone of  voice.

"Once  again Master Kevin, it's so hard to resist times like this. I'll get
you a fresh  one to wear when we're finished and I'll buy you one to replace
the one I  ruined."

"Okay thanks", I said in a half attempt to accept his  apology.

"Now Kevin, when we get near the room where your dad and the others are
awaiting  your appearance, I'll be taking hold of your ear and leading you into the
room,  just as if you were a boy who was going to be enslaved later in the
day. Just  always remember to keep your eyes facing the floor and never speak a
single word  or utter a solitary sound. I'm positive that no harm will come to
you, but you  know how important this day is for the company, not to mention
your  father."

"That's easy enough, thanks", I replied  jovially.

"Once in the room, I shall being leading you to a small raised platform, from
 which all in attendance can see you. Even those way in the back of the room.
 You'll step onto the platform and while keeping your head bowed, you will
immediately spread your legs until your two feet are on the two marks which are
 clearly displayed. Then you must put your hands behind your head and stay
perfectly still, no matter  what."

"I  can handle all of that. I'd rather be looking down than to be looking at
the  people in the room anyway. So far so good, so why not let's get going. I
 wouldn't want these people to think something is wrong."

Mr.  Alderton walked towards the door in silence, and before reaching for the
door  handle he slowly turned towards me and said. "Kevin, we have a company
policy  here that states a slave, a naked male, like you are now; can not be
allowed to  walk freely. I'm sorry but since you are without a slave collar, I'
ll have to  maintain a grip on your penis as we make our way down there; just
in case, the  slightest of cases that someone may accidentally see the two of
 us."

I  looked at him with an open mouth, for but a moment, and then said, "All
right  all ready, let's just get this over with so I can at least get my shorts
on.  And, Mr. Alderton Sir, just remember that I'm not a slave, but an
employee of  this  company."

"Yes Sir, sorry Sir for my  insolence."

Mr. Alderton slowly reached for my dick as he opened the door and we both
proceeded to walk down the empty corridor towards the elevator. Not a soul was
in sight, all the doors had been closed, and I at least felt some small level
of  comfort in  that.

In the  elevator, Mr. Alderton, let loose of my dick; which was a relief for
the both of  us, although I knew, deep down, that this man probably enjoyed
another man's  dick, not to mention another man's  body.

Down  in the sub-basement, a place in which I'd never before seen, it all
started to  set in that I was going to be on display, attempting to act as if I
had just  been enslaved this  morning.

Once again, as Mr. Alderton released his hold on my cock, his free hand
grabbed  my left ear and he began squeezing it rather abusively. It was the first
time  that I can remember every feeling pain, outside of this mornings little
tryst by  my sister.

He knocked three times on the door, before opening it. I remembered
everything  that he'd said to me; and I wasn't about to raise my eyes upon those in
the  room. It was bad enough feeling embarrassed like this, but it was all for a
good  reason.

Mr.  Alderton was soon pulling my ear upwards, as my two feet came to a stop
next to  the small platform he'd  mentioned.

I  stepped onto the platform and immediately saw the two pink feet which had
been  painted on the wooden pedestal. By the time my feet were in place, I
actually  felt as if I was squatting. I could see my cock and balls dangle with
abandon  and I knew that there just had to be many pairs of eyes on them as
well.

I  quickly placed my hands behind my head, now totally exposed to the world.
I  could feel the faint cool air, as hit menacingly raced over the hairs in my
 armpits. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that there was a certain amount of
perspiration beginning to  surface.

Mr.  Alderton, kept to my right side the entire time and I could see the
overhead  light, reflecting in the shine of his shoes. My father came up, not
greeting me  as his son and began to address the gathered  people.

"For  those of you who desired to see the `boy' that was featured in this
mornings  demonstration, I present him to you for your inspection. If any of you
have a  question please feel free to speak right  up."

I  watched, in dismay, as dad let his right hand slide down the side of my
chest,  hip and thigh before stepping  aside.

Slowly, at first, some of the men came up just to look to see if my dick had
suffered any ill effects from the machine. One man actually lifted it all the
 way up so that he could see the underside. "A might red, I'd say, but no
broken  skin at least. This `boys' blood vessels are still engorged with blood,
yet he  is not  erect."

`Yes  quite true", dad responded. "The machine is designed in such a way to
keep a  maximum amount of blood flow through a slave's penis. However, this `
boy' has  been milked three times in less than two hours and I'm quite sure
that his penis  needs a rest before it can erect again. As you witnessed and
saw on the reports,  this `boys' sperm was all alive and that the amount of
seminal fluid which was  extracted from his testicles was ample in quantity. A
machine such as ours, can  extract semen on average of eight times a day from
one slave, without lose to  the sperm count or the quantity. But then too, I
might add, that most slaves who  are kept on the slave chow which we produce also
have had more than just eight  ejaculations in any single twenty four hour
period. Good exercise, food and the  proper equipment can assure a slave
inseminator, of the highest return for his  or her  investment.

The next pair of hands to touch my cock belonged to a female. She even lifted
up  my balls as she held my cock in her other hand. "Seems the `boy' has
already  begun to make a good supply of semen", she said rather brashly.  "
Perhaps  we should see if the `boy' can produce yet another discharge of slave
seed."

"Well, I'd like to think he could too, but it's been less than the required
two  hours between and the manufacture of the machine blatantly recommends
against  it." Dad said in his authoritive voice. "All good things happen for a
reason.  It's, how should I say, "A lesson in time", which we are all governed
by  unfortunately."

The lady took an even firmer grip on my family jewels as she quickly and
abruptly answered dad. "Well I don't have the time to waste, waiting for any  `
time limits' imposed by the machinery. FIDO COME !! " she yelled  out.

In less  time than it took my heart to beat ten times, I saw a man's hand
coming towards  my cock. Or was it a man's hand? It looked human, large as a man'
s but the more  I looked at it, it became clear that the hand had be inked to
look like a dog's  paw; and his fingernails had been honed to look like those
belonging to the  canine species.

The  man/animal took a hold of my cock, allowing the lady to step back; and
he  instantly began to massage the tender flesh. I winced once or twice but I
was  acutely aware that any movement, on my part; just might squirrel the whole
deal  and many deals after  that.

I even  amazed myself, as my cock became rigid in record time. The man's
other hand  found its way to my butt and one or two of his fingers slid in between
my cheeks  to locate my butthole. The sharpness of his nails, scraping over
the tender  pucker hole was more than I could  tolerate.

I  could feel and sense that my body was once again preparing to offer my
seed to  all the eyes who were  watching.

The man's hand left my butt, as he cupped it beneath the head of my dick; as
I  restrained any movement, sending wave after wave of sperm into his  hand.

I  guess you could say that the normal mental reactions came into play
instantly.  Thank goodness that I didn't have to see the expressions on everyone's
face as  my cock spewed tablespoons of cum into the man's  hand.

Then,  shockingly enough, came a big round of applause, not for me, I wouldn'
t think,  but for the sheer perverted delight everyone was  feeling.

As  if I was to know what was to come next? The people began a rolling chant
of  `eat, eat, eat it'.

The man  moved his hand, laden with my sperm up to my mouth. Now, I'm just
like any other  guy. Sure, when I was younger I smelled my own cum and the same
odor filling my  nostrils today as it had some nine years ago.  I even knew
some of my  friends even tasted it once or twice, just like when I was a little
boy; I  tasted the last few drops of my own piss. But to taste the milky
substance was  one thing I let  pass.

It  wasn't long before I felt a hand on the back of my head, pushing me
forward. My  lips touched the cum as more pressure was applied. Between the fear
and disgust,  I could tell that the room had fallen deathly  silent.

With  no other obvious option I stuck my tongue out and had my first taste of
sperm. I  opened my mouth, allowing my tongue to extrude even further and
quickly lapped  it all off of the man's hand; as the room erupted into applause
and vulgar  adjectives which I won't  repeat.

The  one thing that ran through my mind, like a locomotive was that nothing
like  this, nothing anywhere near this; had ever been openly discussed in any
of my  college classes. For a brief moment, I found that I was challenging
myself, as  if I'd made the proper career  decision.

Mr. Alderton pulled me away from the man's hand by my hair; whispering into
my  ear "You have to lick your lips now Sir, as there still remains some on
your  face."

Embarrassed and humiliated beyond comprehension, I did as Mr. Alderton said.
Out  of the blue, the man held two of his fingers in front of my face as if
offering  them to me.
"Sir, you  have to clean his fingers now. It's best if you only suck one at
a time and use  your tongue to lick between them all", Mr. Alderton said in
his hushed voice  into my ear.

I almost puked, thinking that I'd actually volunteered for this assignment. I'
m  pretty sure that ol Fido was enjoying himself as his finger kept poking,
prodding and twisting inside my mouth as I gagged trying to get the fingers
cleaned.

It  all seemed so different than the few times that I'd had `sex' with some
of my  friends. I mean, sure we sucked each others cocks, but never dumped a
load of  cum into our mouths. We knew better with all of the rampant diseases
going  around that we had to be careful. And when it came time to mess around
with  another guys butt, the most any of us did was to insert a finger and fool
around  that way. Gay, yes, experienced in the ways of gay sex,  no.

I heard  lots of comments aimed at me, but directed to dad as I finished my
duties.

It  sounded as if dad was coming to my defense the best he could, as was Mr.
Alderton.

Those few people, who wanted to inspect my dick, seemed pleased with their
findings and soon I could hear them all talking to dad and others. It sure
sounded like more than just the five or six in the room, and one ladies voice
even sounded vaguely  familiar.

Dad had a very successful day. He had managed to sell each of the slave
training  centers one of his machines. That's fourteen machines, at 2.1 million
dollars a  machine; with a profit margin of 37.5 percent. So, I suppose the
torture I was  put through was well worth it for the company and dad too. Now all I
wanted to  do was jump off the platform and get the heck out of there, but
without Mr.  Alderton's say so, I had to remain fixed in  position.

Time passed slowly, as the final bits and pieces of paperwork were completed
and  the proper sales agreements signed. Several men came up to Mr. Alderton
and  asked permission to inspect me. With some reservations, Mr. Alderton
permitted  them to inspect me.

Their talk  was of wanting me to be in their `stable' or their personal
service. Much talk  about how they'd like to witness my initial induction into
slavery but  thankfully Mr. Alderton said that my `induction' was going to be
strictly  private. Whew... was I happy to hear that. I couldn't begin to tell you
how I'd  have felt if I had to go through something like that. It wasn't a
pleasant  experience that much I did learn in  school.

With  the majority of the guests now exiting the room and the building, I
felt much  more at ease; and thankfully Mr. Alderton helped me off of the
platform.

Once I was able to cast my vision around the room, I was surprised at how
many  people, employees were still there. Two of dad's secretaries were in
attendance,  hands full with folders and the like and two nice looking young men
wearing some  kind of uniform, were tending to the large table in the back of the
room that  held the remains of snack foods and drinks. One of them even
managed to look in  my direction, giving me a smile which sort of told me that he
might be gay as  well.

And of  all people in the room... were my mom and dumb sister. I must have
instantly  turned ten shades of red, the moment my eyes made contact with  them.

Dad  finished up giving out instructions to his two secretaries and then he
came over  to me. He said how awful he felt about me having to be masturbated
in front of  strangers including mom and my sister. Trying to soften my
humiliation, he said  that he'd put a `little something extra" in my bank account
for being so  gracious with my time and  body.

I  looked around and then asked Mr. Alderton the whereabouts of my shorts and
 shirt. I was politely told that we had to return to his office, wear my
clothes  had been  left.

I  prodded him into taking me back upstairs, and my father agreed that I'd
had  enough excitement for one day.

Mr. Alderton  looked into the hallway, making sure that everyone had gone and
then proceeded  to take me back upstairs. He seemed rather comfortable with
holding my dick  again, as we rode the elevator up. I hoped that in time, in a
different  situation that perhaps I could expose myself to him in such a way
that the two  of us could become `friends'.

To Be Continued...

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