Date: Thu, 16 Nov 2006 15:56:34 EST From: SANIBELBOYS@aol.com Subject: a lesson in time part 5 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 Five I was pulling on my shorts, as Mr. Alderton went in search for another pullover shirt for me to wear. I `half' watched him as he began rummaging through several large oak closets. He unknowingly, I suppose, left each of the closet doors open as he seemed impatient to find me something to wear. I marveled, at the things I had recognized, and was even more intrigued by the things which I hadn't the foggiest idea what they were called and what they might be used for. After finding me a rather wrinkled up shirt, although it was clean, I started once again gazing into the open closets. Mr. Alderton had noticed my intense glare and he started to close all of the closet doors, explaining: "those are just some of the things I used to use in my former life. I'm sure that you will see items like those and probably more, as you work your way to various slave induction and training centers." "You're probably once again correct Mr. Alderton. We had pictures and things like that in our college books; but to see some of them for real gives a whole new meaning to the term, `training aids', and I'm sure, as you say that I' ll see them all in use before my summer internship is over." Seeing that I was still a bit miffed at the wide assortment of his former self, he simply kept speaking; "I know it may seem odd at first, I mean the first time you actually see a slave or trainee have to have `harsh instructions' but it is all for the good of our country and the slaves owner as well. Had I of known you were embarking down this road, to work with your father; I most likely would have suggested that you had spent some of your previous summers up here along side of me. I know you learned a lot down in shipping and receiving, but up here, on this floor; one gets to learn and see the `meat' of the operations. The `brains' of the company so to speak." I was just about to ask Mr. Alderton a question, when the door opened, and my dad came walking in. "Mr. Latimore, Sir, I was just explaining to young Mr. Latimore that I would have like to have had the opportunity to of had him work along with me these past three summers. Now, it seems as if the lad has grown into quite the young adult." Mr. Alderton said rather briskly, as if he was perhaps thinking that dad was upset with him or something. "Well thank you Eugene, for the nice compliment and I know that Kevin appreciates your kind words as well. I am in desperate need of speaking with my son, so I'll be taking him off your hands now. Perhaps you'll see him tomorrow as I do believe he has one final day here going through some fairly rigorous paperwork. Yes even paperwork has its place in society, Mr. Alderton; it's just another lesson in time, time we spend diligently." Dad beckoned me to follow him, as we returned to his office. There were scads of people going up and down the hallways, now that the `all clear' had been given. A large majority of them simply nodded, as we passed them; but several, more than several seemed to have cast their eyes downward as if wanting to get a glimpse of my covered manliness. No sooner had we entered the reception area, dad's secretary handed him a stack of folders, over flowing with paper and a miniscule amount of those pink little phone message papers. There were several people milling around in the reception room; apparently having made appointments to see my father. With people in the room, phones ringing and dad talking to his main secretary; my eyes went roaming. I probably would have been better off if I'd kept my eyes looking at the carpet instead. There were two men and one well dressed woman standing, facing away from us; apparently looking at the wall mounted screen, which I had assumed was playing the same thing I saw in the lunch room. Well, as `luck' would have it, I cocked my neck and took a half step to my right and got a full view of the screen. The screen was split-screened and on the left was the new machine in operation, with me as the subject and on the right half of the screen was ol Fido jacking me off. I even noticed that the two other secretaries were trying to shield their faces from us, as they each kept making those quick head jerks upward, catching a quick look at the screen too. I felt totally debased, and humiliated. I stepped behind dad and made a hasty retreat into his office; closing the door soundly. Moments later dad came in, tossing the stack of papers and notes on his desk and rushed to hug me. Dad couldn't apologize enough. I could tell that he was sincere in his words and emotions. Once he even began to choke up on his words. We both finally sat on one of the sofas and dad began to change his tone of voice back to the one I was so familiar with. He seemed elated that the day was so far a total success. Every once in awhile he made reference to the fact; that had it not been for my desire to prove myself worthy of employment that the final six contracts might not have been signed. He made me `almost' forget about the humiliation and sexual depravities of the earlier sessison. Moments later dad reached behind him and ordered up a couple of mixed drinks for the two of us. I thought dad's gesture to be one of pure and simple sincerity. Another first, as I'd never sat and enjoyed a mix drink with my father. It was turning out to be a real bonding between the two of us. The young man that had brought me my lunch, served us our drinks and proceeded to stand against the wall, with his hands firmly placed behind his head. I smiled at him and he returned the smile; adding a slight wink. For the next hour or two dad and I went over some important things that he, personally, wanted me to look at while on the road for the next three months. He made sure that I understood his needs and wants, without me having to write them down. At first I didn't understand some of what he was asking; but after some serious back and forth questions and answers I finally had a good grasp on his requests. During this entire time the young man only moved when he noticed that our drink glasses needed refilling. And, every time he returned with filled glasses, he managed to go that little extra step by giving me, what I perceived to be code, the indication that he was gay and he knew I was gay. I think years back that my sister used to refer to it as `gaydar' or something similar. I never found out what happened to the three people waiting in the reception room, because dad and I filled the rest of the day in `conference' as he told his secretary over the phone. Not once did I pay attention to the many clocks in the office, but dad must have been. "Well, son it's time to go home. It has been a good day so far, and to tell you the truth; I'm rather excited to get home and see what your mother has decided to be fair and just punishment for Sarah. Like I always say... Guilty until proven innocent... and in your sister's case.. you can't dispute a video tape." As we stood up to depart, dad's secretary knock her little `secret' knock and opened the door. She approached dad, with an envelope and what appeared to me to be a long chain dog leash. Both of which perplexed me, until I easily discovered the purpose of both. Once the secretary had left, dad handed me the envelope saying, "I have taken the opportunity to have a check drawn up for all your help today. I hope that you will accept it in the token in which it is given." I cautiously opened the envelope, as anyone would do, and eased the check part way out. At first all I could see were the zeros; lots of them. A check made out to me for one hundred thousand dollars, dang! My mouth had dropped so far open that I could have swallowed a tennis ball, as dad spoke; "we can stop by the bank tomorrow at lunch so you can deposit it. I've taken the liberty of renting out a banquet room for lunch, as we'll be wanting to send you off in good fashion and high spirits." I couldn't get any words to come out right, as I stumbled my way through the normal thanks; but holding up his hand to slow and silence my meager attempt to thank him, dad spoke once more. "Now I'm not sure how you'll feel about my next `gift' for you. I know that today was stressful and rather dehumanizing; so I've decided that Shaun here shall retreat, with us, and he will be your own personal servant for the night. I hear he is quite good with body massages so I was thinking that you would enjoy having your daily tribulations rubbed out." "Dad, no I can't. I just can't expect someone to be my servant for the night. It's not right... is it?" "Now Kevin, stop behaving like a little boy. Have you forgotten your precious MoMo and all that he's done for you?" "Dad, of course not; but MoMo has known me since I was just a kid. It's not the same. The slave can stay here or go back to his kennels or wherever it is that he goes at night. Let's just go home, ok? "Kevin, you're being silly. I just don't understand why you are so reluctant to have a personal slave of your very own for just the night. I think you would find, and learn that some slaves are more in tune with their lives than most people. Besides, I've already had one of the girls call ahead, telling MoMo and JoJo to bring the old massage table up from the basement. There has been so little that I've done for you in the past few years; won't you at least allow you father to do this one small thing." "I can see that I'm not going to win this one, so if you really insist, we can bring the slave home, but he'd better not do or try anything stupid or I' ll just have to knock the crap out of him." We both stood and approached the slave, with dad handing me the leash. I thought, as most `normal' slaves would have had a collar around their neck. Shaun did not, which was perplexing. Dad saw the strange look on my face and then said to me, "Slaves who work in the building do not wear collars, as it distracts from the image which I've set forth. Here, let me show you where to attach the leash." I watched as dad unzipped the shorts on the slave, and then pointing to the zipper he said, "You clip the leash to the slave's balls. Just reach in and grab yourself a handful of slave dick and balls and pull them out. There's a nice ring in there for his leash." After a good solid minute or two, I reached into the slave's zipper and touched his cock. I had been so long since I'd felt another man's cock, that my own, began to tent my flimsy shorts. Fumbling around, looking like an idiot; I pulled the slave's equipment out. Totally hairless, gleaming in the light, soft smooth and rather sizeable for the slave; as I tried to forget about the few times in my life that I'd been so intimate with a man's dick. I didn't dare look at the slave as dad and I exited his office, through the reception area and into the hallway. Holding the leash, attached to a slave was not something that I liked doing. It just felt as if someone else should be holding it. Every time we passed someone in the hallway, the slave made sure that he moved over against the wall, but managed to keep up the pace. Downstairs, right out front of the building; the limo was waiting for us. After dad and I were properly seated in back, the driver had the slave sit up front with him. The leash was then attached to a big eyebolt in the floor, directly between the slave's legs. I could tell, I think, that the driver must have been checking the slave out, because today, I didn't observe him driving with both hands on the steering wheel. Dad had me open my folder, and we both, once again began the arduous task of going over each and every paper. The more the two of us discussed everything, the more I began to feel more comfortable about my summer internship. There were so many things that were not on any of the papers that I had to make myself countless notes. Most of what I wrote down, where things which seemed important to my dad, compared to the items which all of the others had brought to my attention. Dad even said, "I know I've given you a tremendous amount more work to do, but I know you of all people can handle it. I have always done well under pressure and I think you will agree that this summer will be stressful and demanding of your time. Just think about it as a "Lesson in Time". If you can accomplish not only the basic studies, but my requirements as well, I'll see to it that yet another fine `bonus' will be made available to you upon your return." I didn't make any comment on what dad had just said; but instead, I buried my thoughts to the travel arrangements and such. It seems as if they had every conceivable situation under control. Things like, bad weather and planes weren't flying, to car rentals, hotels and motels, to even a list of restaurants where the food was known to be good. I even had a company gas card and a company charge card. It was, however, spelled out quite clearly as to what I could use the charge card for, including how much I could spend on meals, entertainment and tips. Before I realized it, the limo was pulling into the driveway. MoMo came bounding down the stairs, smiling his ever present charm. He even reached into the passenger side up front and pulled the slave out, handing me the leash. I could see that even MoMo was captivated by the slave's exposed sexual apparatus. I had to be told, what to tell the slave; as I'd never before actually had complete control over one. It felt odd, perhaps even a little weird, having to tell another person what to do. But, nonetheless, I was able to get the slave situated in the kitchen; standing with his back against the wall so that he could see JoJo preparing dinner. Mom greeted me with a big hug and a few words of consolation for the events of the day. She informed me that I had time to shower before dinner, as she had been busy with my sister for some time and didn't inform JoJo of what she' d wanted prepared for supper. I tried to get mom to tell me more about my sister's afternoon, but mom just kept saying, "Wait until after you've showered and come back down." It was, at least for now, pleasantly quiet around the house. No nasty, vulgar rap music blaring from her room and no yelling and screaming over the phone like she has a tendency to do as well. I was just about to climb the stairs, when I heard; "Master Kevin, aren't you forgetting something?" I turned around to see MoMo pointing towards the kitchen. Sure enough, I'd forgotten all about my slave for the night. MoMo followed me into the kitchen and very politely told me, " Master Kevin, Sir, if I might beg your pardon Sir, but this slave is accustomed to being naked when he is not at your father's office. It is not for me to say, Sir, but perhaps Master Kevin would like to make the slave a bit more comfortable." Well, MoMo did have a point, and a big smile on his face. I took hold of the leash and brought the slave with me upstairs not to forget that MoMo was following close behind also. I'm not sure why the slave seemed so awe struck as soon as we got to my bedroom. Maybe he'd come from some lower class of family and had never seem such a room. MoMo was quick to start telling the slave about my bathing habits and clothes for dinner and even what I didn't wear while I slept. The slave seemed very cognizant of his duties for the remainder of the day, as MoMo unfastened the leash from the poor slave's balls. After getting a rather whimsical look from MoMo, I told the slave that he could remove his clothing. The two of us watched with great anticipation as the slave's clothing came off, folded and placed neatly onto a small bench by the door. He looked like a smaller me, except that he was without any hair except a head of stubble and grossly trimmed eyebrows. The apparatus that was wrapped around his cock and balls, actually kept his balls in their own separate compartments. Our visual inspection of the slave ceased, as MoMo took him into my bathroom and showed him where everything was located and helped him to adjust the spray of water to just the right temperature. When they both came out, I hadn't even begun to undress; as I'd kept watching the two of them, especially the slave, as his beautiful rounded butt captured many visions in my head. "I'll leave you Master Kevin so you may get cleaned up from a day of work Sir. Sir knows how to reach me if Sir needs me to come right away", MoMo said rather sadly before he left me all alone with a strange man in my own bedroom. I started to pull off the shabby shirt, which Mr. Alderton had given me, and all of a sudden the slave speaks up. "Oh Sir, this slave is exceptionally sorry Sir; let me help." Before I could react, or even speak; the slave had my shirt coming off; laying it over one of his bare shoulders as he dropped to his knees. After removing my footwear, the slave shamelessly, and without regard, began to slide my shorts down. There wasn't much I could do at this point, except lift each of my feet so he could remove them completely. I had a flash back to the time when the one slave swallowed my piss, bringing back the fondness and the feeling of being so close to another man. Being the first time that a man had washed my body, proved to be a totally grandiose experience, as I managed (unwillingly) to maintain a perfectly good erection throughout the entire time. Just the way that the slave dried me off, was sensual enough and he still managed to keep my attention focused on his own rather handsome body. I knew before the night was over, that I'd have a talk with him about his life before and after his enslavement. In the dinning room, all was ready; by the time I got there. I had the slave assume a position appropriate for such a time. No matter what position he was in, my hidden desire to reach out and touch him was still raging within. "Where is my wonderful sister?", I asked of mom. "Your sister will not be joining us this evening, as she has been instructed otherwise". I let it go, for now, knowing just from the look on mom's face that she was in one of her `domineering' moods. And, when she gets like that, best to just stay away or change the subject, `quickly'. Dad picked up where mom left off and talked about how good his day was and the potential to make additional profits from selling more machines overseas. Always business for my dad, nothing but business. Not much time for family unless the family was in the business. I was really surprised that neither of my parents made any sort of remark about the naked slave standing behind me, with his hands behind his neck. I guess when you get older like my folks, and have dealt hand in hand with slaves, that seeing one more naked slave doesn't really seem to matter one way or the other. After dinner, and a nice brandy; dad suggested to mom that they both go check up on my sister. My curiosity was peaking by now and I asked if I could join them; seeing as how it was my testicles she was abusing earlier in the day. I followed mom and dad into the family room; and my slave was two steps behind me, followed by MoMo and JoJo. Standing in the far corner was my sister. She was completely naked and had her hands on top of her head. Now, I'm no expert on women, but she looked `hot '. Her boobs were as plump as a summer watermelon and her girly area was completely bare. I never knew, but should have guessed that she shaved all her hair off; just by hearing some of her remarks she made while talking on the phone. Mom grabbed hold of her and turned her around so that dad could get a good view of the red marks on her butt. It looked like, just by a quick count; that mom had smacked her ten time with either a belt or something similar. Dad seemed content and gratified that mom had finally put my sister down a peg or two. Dad and mom sat on the sofa, turning on one of the cable news channels as MoMo came up to me, saying; "Does Master Kevin wish he massage now?" I looked at him, as he pointed to a large area behind the sofa; where he and JoJo had set up and cleaned the massage table. Shaun had already taken up a position on the other side of the table, as if expecting to complete his task. I had several more whispered moments with MoMo, telling him that I felt embarrassed to get a massage; especially in the same room as my parents are sitting in. "KEVIN!" mom shouted, turning her attention towards me. "Just get over there and get a massage. It's not like a big deal and your incessant whispering to MoMo is very distracting." I had hoped to be able to forgo the massage, as anymore `gay' feelings might just tip my secret to everyone. I stepped over to the leather table and the slave helped to remove all of my clothing except for my bikini briefs. I never gave it a thought, but now, now, I was standing there in my finest silk, pink undies. The slave had already helped me put them on, but now MoMo and JoJo were staring at them and started to smile. I quickly got up onto the table and laid on my stomach, the cold leather felt so good against my warm body. I knew, from looking in a mirror, the kind of `view' I was giving our two house slaves. I'm sure that JoJo would have liked to have seen more but I was certain that what she was looking at would have to suffice. The slave started right in by using some nice warm, scented oil on my shoulders and neck. All I could do, was to close my eyes and feel the softness of the boys hands glide across my taught muscles. I even tried to listen to the news, to avoid getting those secret feelings of mine; but as luck would have it, MoMo came over and whispered, "Enjoy it Master Kevin, I know this is what you've been wanting for a long, long time." I turned my head, only to see MoMo leaving the room, followed by JoJo. The slave was in no apparent hurry to complete his task, or was it just because it was something that he really did enjoy doing. The sound from the television faded into the farthest part of my mind, as the slave began working the tension from my back. I could actually feel my muscles starting to relax which only intensified the sensations I was getting from the slave's hands. By the time he was working my lower back, I was nearly asleep. Every once in awhile I could feel his fingers working under the band on my undies. I don't know why or how it all happened, but the one time I reacted to his fingers beneath my undies; I raised my hips, and in that fraction of a second the slave had slid my undies down and off. The continuous massaging combined with the friction, or lack of, the oil felt marvelous. I didn't even mind when his fingers made their way in between my two cheeks. When his fingers circled my `rosebud' there was absolutely nothing left for me to do but to enjoy the moment. I didn't want that feeling to ever go away, and for the longest time... it didn't. "If Sir would like to turn over now, so this slave may continue...", were the only words I heard. I hadn't even realized that he had already massaged my legs and feet. My brain was so transfixed on the anal port of the massage. Turning over was the easy part, trying to will my cock to deflate was the hard part. Thank goodness I was not looking in the direction of my parents. The slave simply smiled and continued his task. With anticipation, I pondered what my reaction was going to be when and if he started to rub oil onto my sore dick and hairy nads. There must be some rule, written or otherwise; but the slave refrained from touching my private parts until the last thing. I even spread my legs out as far wide as the table would permit; thus granting the slave full access to my balls and cock. The oil felt so good on my shaft as he softly stroked back and forth and around and around. The slave has a good sense of knowing when to stop, so as to cease the flow of semen. Over and over he manipulated my cock, all the while my eyes were closed and envisioning something or someone else holding on to my cock. If I, for even one second thought of this handsome, hairless slave my sperm would boil out without even having a hand touching my dick. Even with closed eyes, I could feel and sense a sudden change in the slaves demeanor. "Enjoying having your own personal boy for the night son?" came the thunderous voice of my father. I quickly pushed myself up onto my elbows and blinked away all of my sexual emotions, all except the rather obvious one. "Geez dad you startled me." I said in a stupid attempt to start the `blame game'. The slave had stepped aside, allowing my father to stand directly next to me. I turned my head in both directions, thinking that I'd see my mother. "No need to worry about your mother son, she's seen plenty of masturbations taking place during her lifetime", dad said rather reassuringly. "Your mother has taken your sister to her bedroom for the night. It seems as if your mother has taken her `mean pills' tonight, so just be thankful she is taking it all out on your sister. I'd suggest that you take your slave to your room as well, that is if you intend on finishing what he's already started." It all had happened so fast the any shame or embarrassment I should have had, was simply not present. My god, how could I have allowed myself to compromise myself in such a manner in front of my parents; not to mention my sister seeing me as she, too, left the room. My eye must have told exactly how I was feeling at that very moment because even the slave stood totally expressionless. I had no idea where this night was going, but I was sure to find out; as I climbed the stairs two at a time with the slave boy right behind me. Comments to Sanibelboys@aol.com