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 Eleven
I don't know how long I sucked on `616s' dick. I really didn't care, just for the simple fact that by my sucking on his cock, I was also learning how to
perform oral sex better; and more importantly it took my mind away from the pain in my balls, dick and every other place now racked with discomfort.
The slave's scent was somewhat intoxicating, compared to the first night. His
naked flesh, free from pubic hair seemed to be another thing which I found exciting; as I finally got all of his cock deep within my mouth. He moved his hands between my ears and head; sometimes rubbing the small area right behind my ears, as if I was some kind of puppy.
By the time the slave erupted, seeding a rather large amount of sperm into my mouth and throat; my own cock pulsed, in pain, as I felt another small donation being sucked into the collection tube.
I saw the gentle and caring smile of my slave, as he withdrew his cock and once again activated the vacuum device, clearing the small tube and my dick of any and all remnants of semen.
"That one seemed to be a lot better than the last one Sir", he spoke with a hint of glee to his voice. "There is now just over 15 and a half cc's in the collection tube. We might just make it after all."
I looked in the mirror to notice `616' tapping the side of the collection tube, as if he was amazed at the sight of my milky white sperm. The next thing I felt were the slave's hands, hefting my balls up and gently lowering them. I couldn't believe that the bag of fluid had completely drained; leaving, as the technician said, bull balls. If I hadn't been told beforehand about the need to infibulate a slave's scrotum; I probably would have been scared to death at the sheer size in which mine had now transformed.
The machine seemed to slacken in intensity, which was a great relief; although the weight of the two sleeves, combined with the hours of constant stroking, had left my cock very sore. I could even begin to feel the beginnings of my cock starting to soften, which in itself was another blessing. I knew, however, that such a deliberate pause would only return with a vengeance; to which I had no choice but to tolerate.
The clock on the wall was indicating the hour to be just after eleven; which meant that I'd have at least another hour before the technician returned.
An uncanny feeling came over me all of a sudden, as I looked at my dangling ballsack. I could not even see the outline of my nuts, due to the amount of liquid which had filled and grossly stretched the scrotal sac. The discomfort had to have been coming from just the weight of the liquid, which was now ` floating' my balls inside. I had to admit, that in some ways it looked awesome.
I never in a million years would have believed it, if I hadn't now seen it and felt it. I giggled just thinking what it would be like if my balls were actually those big all the time. I even wondered why a slave would object to this process, as now that I'm experiencing it, it doesn't seem all that bad. But, perhaps it is just because I have a personal slave helping me through it, which makes it seem perfectly normal.
Staring back into the mirror, I could easily watch `616' massaging my balls, so I asked him why he was doing it and he simply replied that, one, he liked doing it for me, and two, it might help to stimulate me to another orgasm and a better production of seminal fluid. I went into a mode of questions which seemed appropriate for the time, as it would also allow me to gain a better understanding of a pleasure slave's thinking.
"So boy, tell me why it is that you like pleasuring men so much", I asked, in such a way that one wouldn't notice that I was the `boy' for now.
"Well Sir, ever since I can remember; that's all that I've been trained to do. They did try to teach me how to mount a female, but I couldn't seem to get the hang of it. Ever since then, I've been more or less assigned to males who come to conduct business with Mr. Trumbull."
"But `616', how long ago was it when they tried to teach you about females" , I asked in a real sincere voice.
"Sir, it was after my first milking, right in this very room. Mr. Wilton said I was a real `pumper' and he sent me to live in the female room for a whole month."
"So tell me `616', the best you can, what happened during that month that you stayed with the females", I asked of the boy, who now looked as if he was about to cry.
"Sir, I failed miserably there Sir. I tried to explain to Mr. Wilton and Mr. Trumbull that I didn't understand my tasks, but they punished me anyway."
"There's no way you can be punished for not understanding `616', you must have done something wrong. Tell Sir what it was that you did wrong."
"Well Sir, the females told Mr. Wilton that I was unable to perform satisfactorily with my mouth. Then they told him that my `slave rod' wasn't big enough to satisfy a normal female. But the worst of it all came when they told Mr. Wilton that I cried like a baby when the females all tried to push rubber dicks up my butt Sir."
Wanting and needing to sound sympathetic I asked, "tell me `616' more of this female training you had. How old were you when you were left with the females? How old were you when you began learning how to pleasure a man? And, tell me of the female who gave birth to you."
"Well Sir, the female who bore me was named `389' and she was a nice female too. I stayed with her and two other females who had just birthed new slave babies. Mr. Trumbull said that I should have stayed with her longer and that' s why I did so badly in the female compound. I was one of the first slaves born here and everybody was trying to see just how well I was going to do with both the males and females. That's why the females told Mr. Wilton that I wasn 't any good for them. Now the new slave babies stay with their birth female until they have learned much more than I did. They even get to suckle tits for more years than I got to. They told me that two years of suckling wasn't enough time for a slave baby to feel the need to please a female. Now the babies suckle females until they are around five or six years old, and by then Mr. Wilton decides if they are good enough to train as a slave for a female. If Mr. Wilton decides that the slave isn't going to perform well with a female, he punishes the slave and sends him right over to the male compound for training. Mr. Trumbull gets upset when a slave is taken into the male compound. He says that there is more profitability when a new slave is trained for a female, Sir."
"But `616' there's something missing here. You're telling me that you were first trained with males, then you went to train with females and then they sent you back to the males?" I asked in earnest.
"Yes Sir, after I left my birthing female, I was sent right into the male compound and that's where I learned a lot of nice things and the males treated me pretty good to. But when Mr. Trumbull had a call for a slave boy to go to a
new female owner, the only one he had around was me, so that's why he sent me to live with the females."
I just had to ask, "But why 616' did you have a hard time with the rubber dick'?"
"Well Sir, the males were never allowed to play with my pucker hole until I had my first milking but they took me right from here over to the female compound. The females weren't very nice to me from the beginning. They started poking them things up my butt the minute the door was locked. I was being mounted like that, at the same time the females pushed themselves onto my mouth and it was hard for me to learn to do two things at the same time. My dick, according to the females wasn't proper size to allow them to feel comfortable'. Everything there was all bad for the whole month Sir. They tried to teach me how to drink their pee, but it was a lot harder than doing it will all the nice male slaves, so that got them all mad at me. The madder they got, the worse it was for me. They told Mr. Wilton that the only thing I was good for was as a bath slave'.
"So ever since then, you've not been to the female compound? You've not once thought about asking to go back and try again? You are happy doing what you are doing here? Don't you ever think about being taken off the compound to another place and living a life with just you and a master?"
"Sir, no Sir", `616' replied. "Not once have I been back Sir. Sometimes the
females come to my bed and tease me with their nakedness, but I don't have a
desire within me to comply with their wishes. And, yes Sir, I'm very happy here, doing what I do. I'm especially happy now, that Sir is here as I can finally prove to Mr. Wilton and Mr. Trumbull that I've learned everything that they've taught me Sir. They said if I displeased you in any way, during your stay that I'd have to be sent off to some strange place Sir. I don't want to go away Sir, so please tell me if I'm not pleasing you. I'll try harder Sir, honest I will. If I had to be sent away, I'd like to be sent to someone like Sir, or even to Sir, if Sir would have a retch like me, Sir".
"Come here boy and get down here and face me so that I can see your face when you are speaking to me." I moved my eyes so that I could see the slaves body as he left my scrotum and came to the front, allowing me to see his angelic face. My neck was really starting to bother me as I'd been trying my best to keep my head elevated instead of facing down towards the floor; but I could see so much more this way, that it was worth the strain on my neck muscles.
"Is this better Sir?" the slave asked.
"Closer boy, get closer. I want you so close to my face that I can feel the air leaving your body", I said in a rather quiet tone.
The slave moved even closer, as I'd commanded him too. There was just enough slack left in my neck that I could, and did, put my lips to his. His lips were like satin and his response to my kiss was like nothing I'd ever experienced before.
His hands held my head as he slowly presented his tongue to me; which I had no problem accepting. I, we, seemed to be in a whole other place, a different world; until the door to the milking parlor opened up.
No comments were made to `616' or I, as the technician, the doctor, and Mr. Wilton came into the room.
"Let's see how well the two lads have done", Mr. Wilton said with a jovial tone to his voice. As the doctor knelt by my side, evidently removing the collection tube he replied, "Doesn't look like Master Kevin has done all that well, which is rather surprising considering his youthfulness."
"We still have another eleven hours or so before we have to stop the ` treatment', so perhaps after a short rest, the two can find other ways to excite Master Kevin's body to produce more sperm cells", added Mr. Wilton.
Handing the vial of my semen to the technician for processing and freezing, the doctor spoke once more saying, "Let me first check his scrotal elongation first and then I need to remove the extraction cylinder from his penis and check it also... we wouldn't want him to have a sore dick, now would we?" The three men broke out into uncontrollable laughter; as `616' remained kneeling in front of me, his hands now behind his head in the proper position.
The doctor was none to gentle with my nutsack as he hefted it, measured it and felt for the location of my two orbs, which were floating around in there somewhere. "I suppose I could either add another half bag of saline to Master Kevin's scrotum or I could inject them with our enhancer medication. I could also do both for his consideration; and let's not forget that I can add another bag of IV solution for his hydration and add the medicine which we sometimes use on the females. Which ever we decide, I'm sure that Master Kevin will make the proper mental adjustments. After all, I'm sure that he doesn't want to kneel like this all day long, like a common slave."
The next thing I know, and feel, as I winced is the heavy cylindrical object being removed from my cock. It was a breath of fresh air to my system as my dick fell towards the floor, finally free.
There were a few mumbles from the doctor as he inspected my cock, lifting it, twisting it and spreading the opening of it. "Seems to be fine, from a medical stand point. Nothing more that some minor bruising, which probably was caused by non-sufficient lubrication before being encased. I'd have to say he' s capable, penis wise, to go another ten hours; but I'm not sure if he can produce the amount of sperm you require of him."
"TEN HOURS!" I blurted out. "No man can go ten hours more in this contraption. That's insane. Let's just consider what I've donated already as being sufficient, OKAY?"
"Master Kevin, there's no need to speak that way. We're only doing what is best for you, your father, his company and one of our guest. What say, we give you a break, for... say... an hour. Let you rest up and then we'll try again and if by supper time, you've not manufactured the sixty cc's.... then we'll take a more in-depth look at the situation", Mr. Wilton said, almost as if he was taking to one of his employees or even a slave.
"Quite a good suggestion, indeed", commented the doctor, as the technician returned with a new collection vial. "Perhaps if we induce him, we might even be able to make the `treatment' conclude in ... say... three hours. Then young Master Kevin can have the rest of today and all of tomorrow to rest up and allow his body to absorb the saline solution which now fills his scrotum. If it were me, I'd probably opt for the quicker of the options."
Before I had time to think or to answer the doctor, Mr. Wilton had 616' up and running for a urine bucket; which 616' quickly brought back and carefully place beneath me, lifting my cock up and then lowering it back down, into the bucket. I hadn't thought about pissing until then, but I still was very hesitant to do it, with three other men standing around.
"Well, perhaps we should let `616' have his lunch and then we'll get things
started again", the technician chimed in with his two cents worth.
"Mr. Wilton", I began; "I don't think I can handle another five, six or even ten hours kneeling like this, thinking that my body will produce the amount of sperm which is requested. I've decided to let the doctor do what he feels is in my best interest to promote a faster production of my semen and that way we can all just get this over with."
"A wise choice Master Kevin, a wise choice indeed", replied Mr. Wilton. "I can see much of your father in your decision. Is it not him who believes in time utilized to the fullest? Isn't he the one who is always saying something like; "Let this be another Lesson In Time?"
"Run along `616' and have your lunch, but don't lag. Master Kevin will most assuredly need your companionship by the time you've finished eating", said the technician.
It didn't take the doctor or the technician long, before they began fixing me up for the afternoon. I received another bag of glop for my meal, another bag of something was hung for my IV solution and the doctor fixed me up with another bag of saline for my nuts.
"Now you'll probably feel some tingly' sensation in your scrotum Master Kevin. That would be the enhancement solution which I've added to the mix. And once I inject another medication into your IV, you'll begin to feel rather silly' and start to have some rather weird thoughts and ideas running through your head. After which, you'll fall into a nice comfortable sleep while we continue to extract fluid from you", so said the doctor.
"Yeah, and I'd like to be in Master Kevin's brain while those thoughts and ideas are occurring", piped in the technician; only to get a rather cursed comment in return from Mr. Wilton.
The tingling in my balls wasn't long in coming, at it actually felt kind of nice at first. After a few minutes, it began to feel as it my nuts were being taken over by a massive amount of ants; as they seemed to be moving with wild abandon.
Whatever chemical they had injected into my IV, seemed to burn as it began flowing through my body. It almost felt like my stomach was going to `hurl', but it didn't.
The doctor supervised the technician, as he applied a generous amount of lubrication to my cock; before fitting me again with the lexan cylinder. I heard, rather fuzzy, the sound of the machine starting up; as the three men stood there and began talking. I couldn't even understand what they were saying; and they were less than five feet away from me. A pat on my head and the three men left me alone, to ponder my afternoon.
I wasn't sure of anything, as the fog of uncertainty began to lift from within my head. At first all I knew was that I was laying flat on my back. I could feel cool air float over my entire body, thusly indicating that wherever I was; I was still totally naked. There wasn't much light in the room either, even as the cloudiness in my brain began to clear; the room still appeared dimly lit.
Yes, I was back in my cottage. My legs appeared to be in some kind of harness, keeping them spread out wide and about a foot off of the bed. My cock and balls ached, as if someone had kicked them squarely. My mouth was parched and I had a mild headache. All of the bags and tubes were gone, except the IV needle in the back of my wrist.
The smell of something delicious filled the air, which I could only assume it
was from `616' cooking.
"It's great to see Sir is awake", came a joyous exclamation from `616'. "I' m happy that Sir didn't sleep the night away, just yet anyway."
I turned my head to focus on his voice and as my eyes continued to adjust to the lighting, I could see the slave's all to familiar smile.
"Sir hasn't slept all that much today, but most of it was from the medicine the doctor gave you in the `milking parlor'. I've seen him use it before but only on slaves."
All I could think about was to start asking the questions which seemed important to me at this very moment. "How long have we been back here at the cottage? What time is it? Did I satisfy their needs? Why are my legs open like this?"
"Sir we've only been back for about two hours. It is close to seven o' clock. Sir was able to produce a little more than the required amount of free man' s sperm. And Sir's legs are open like that so that he won't bang into his scrotum, for awhile; or at least until the testicles have started to reduce in
size Sir", came the snappy and concise answers from the slave.
`616' continued his diatribe of one way conversation by adding, "They had four slaves bring you down on an old military stretcher. It wasn't that difficult for them as they've been kept in training for almost a year and they look like some kind of Greek Gods. I'll never look like them, even if I worked hard for ten years, but then again they weren't born into slavery. They all came from being bad and some judge sent them here. After Sir has something good to eat, the slave will wash Sir again and allow Sir ample time to sleep and by sun up, Sir will feel a lot better. I've seen it enough times to know such things Sir."
The slave slid a chair next to the bed before bringing over a tray of food; which he let rest on his lap while he `spoon fed' me my evening meal. I could have fed myself, but there just seemed some desire on the slave's part to want to impress me; and he was doing a good job of it.
Dinner was delicious and I soon became tired; allowing myself to fall asleep, believing that I'd feel better in the morning, where I could evaluate the situation in a much better mental state.
`616' had been correct, as usual. My scrotum had nearly shrunk in half from the previous night; although it was still enlarged. The slave gingerly removed my aching legs from those god awful leather stirrup things and placed them
carefully, feet down, on the bed.
"If Sir would care to fill his urinal pot, the slave will massage the pains away from Sir's legs", the slave boy calmly said, as if it were just another routine which he'd performed over and over again.
I could feel the molded plastic of the piss pot being slide over my cock; while it rested on my balls. There was no doubt that I needed to piss and I didn 't need any coaxing to get the flow started. It almost felt erotic, pissing in front of a slave while he went about rubbing some scented oils on both my legs.
I needed a great deal of help getting to the shower; where I found it best just to kneel there while `616' valiantly and carefully washed away all of yesterday's reminders. I was even more thankful that the slave hadn't suggested an enema. I don't think I could have withstood any discomfort until at least another day had passed.
I was resting in the recliner, while `616' went about making breakfast. My nuts were resting on a cushion of air confined in a small plastic like pillow, while I kept my legs spread wide.
There was a short, almost dainty like knock on the door as `616' ran to open it. Mr. Wilton and the doctor had come down to see how I was progressing from the day before.
The doctor seemed pleased with the amount of fluid which my body had absorbed and noted that the small bruising on my cock would disappear with two or three days.
I shouldn't have been, but I was, shocked when 616' offered the two men a nice fresh cup of coffee; and even more surprised when they accepted. They sat on the furniture in the small living space; both now facing me, able to see my exposed cock, balls and ass, without having to move a muscle. I was momentarily distracted when 616' brought a tray over and gently placed it over my lower abdomen. It had coffee, a bowl of freshly sliced fruit and a most wonderful warm bagel; all waiting for my consumption.
The two men made small talk, as I ate my meal, and the real conversation began the moment that `616' removed the tray; leaving me to hold my coffee.
"Master Kevin, perhaps now would be as good a time as any to explain what prompted yesterday's `treatment'. I feel as if we, and your father, owe you a more in-depth explanation", Mr. Wilton politely said, as he glanced from me to
the doctor."
I wasn't really interested, at first, at the whole scenario; that is until Mr. Wilton explained the huge amount of money that Mr. Trumbull had deposited into my personal bank account. From that point on, I listened with both ears keen to hear everything else he had to say. I was, at first, upset with my dad, for not coming right out and asking if I'd submit to such a day; but my ill feelings soon faded.
The doctor took over center stage' by commenting that they had opted to leave the needle in my wrist, in the hopes that I'd consider another treatment' , which, in any event, would net my personal account twice the amount as the first one. It was so tempting, but I knew that there had to be a catch; and there was.
If I accepted the offer, then the guidelines set forth by my dad would not apply. I would be subjected to Mr. Trumbull's rules and guidelines. It would mean that my entire body would temporarily belong to him and his staff. There would be little, which would be `off limits'.
Mr. Wilton made it a point to mention that I still had three scheduled days at Windy Hills and that I would definitely be able to complete any of my intern assignments which were outlined in my rather regimented schedule; should I
accept their gracious offer.
"I'll say this Master Kevin; we'll let you ponder your decision for a couple of hours while you continue to rest. You might even consider speaking with your mother or father about this. It is after all a big decision for you to be making and having your sperm extracted and used to impregnate female slaves is something which shouldn't be taken too lightly. Think about it, consider the benefits to yourself and to the slave industry and let us know what it is that you decide. Oh... and one last thing that I perhaps should mention; is that your `treatment' will last a full twenty-four hours."
With saying not another word, the two gentlemen rose up and quietly left the
cottage.
`616' kept himself busy straightening up the bed, and fussing around in the kitchen area and doing general cleaning; while I considered all of my options. Nobody, not a single soul back at the company's head offices had ever, EVER, mentioned that something like this might, may or could happen.
After another cup of coffee and a brief piss, I decided to call my dad.
"Well Kevin, how are you? Gosh it's good to hear your voice. Are you calling from your cottage? To what do I owe the pleasure so early in the morning?", dad asked with genuine parental caring.
I explain yesterday, the best I could; telling dad what happened, how long I was in the milking parlor' and some of the other things which I felt were important at the time. I also, quite directly, told him that I'd wished he would have just come out and told me himself about the treatment' and perhaps I wouldn't have harbored the initial feelings of distain towards him.
Dad listened, for once, without interrupting me. He waited until I had voiced my concerns, vented my displeasure over his rather round about way of getting me to volunteer' to be milked'.
"Kevin I must say that you appear to have grown up more than I'd given you ample credit for. I'm proud of you son, very proud. I stayed up and watched the video download that Mr. Trumbull sent me last night and I must say that you handled yourself in a very professional. In addition, I want to commend you on holding true to the Latimore name. That means a lot to your mother and I."
I had all but forgotten about the video, and sure enough dad let the questions fly. "Kevin, I watched with some disbelief that you kissed that slave boy, although I'll admit he is most attractive. I was mortified when I saw you sucking that same slave's cock. Is there something you're not telling me son. I know that having sex with a slave, male or female, is not looked upon as a defining way to show one's sexual orientation, but Kevin, I must say that you appeared to be genuinely `into' that particular slave."
I realized that dad had just presented me with the best opportunity to `come out of the closet'; but I refrained from doing so.
Instead, I presented him with what Mr. Trumbull had offered me this morning and made it quite clear to my dad that I was totally unclear as to what decision I should come to and how to arrive at it.
I got the immediate feeling in my gut, that dad had turned off his parental instincts and gone into `business mode'; as he explained how my decision would impact my financial stability, not to mention the betterment of the company 's name. He alluded to the fact that the rest of the summer may, or may not, find myself in some similar situations. It was the one decision that he wasn' t going to try and sway my thinking one way or the other. In conclusion, the phone call wasn't exactly what I'd hoped it would have been; but when I look back on it now, I can see where dad was coming from; with his well chosen words.
I pondered the situation for a short time, thereafter; until such time as I sent `616' up to get Mr. Wilton, so I could properly inform him of my decision.
To Be Continued..
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