Date: Tue, 29 Aug 2006 09:46:18 +0100 (BST)
From: WILL OBE <will.obe@btinternet.com>
Subject: OBEYING THE SENIORS Chapter 1

My name's Philip, Phil for short. I'm 22 years old, 5' 6", blue eyes,
natural platinum blond hair, slim, swimmer's body, and, according to some
of the girls at the college I attended, I have film star good looks! One
girl I didn't much care for described me as being 'too pretty for a
boy'. Of course she hadn't seen my 6" erect uncut prick which I'm modestly
proud of.

Can't pretend I was particularly successful at university and ended up with
a second class degree in English. Worse still, from most people's point of
view including my father, no sporting achievements. I'd avoided team sports
from childhood, but my main problem I think is my shyness. A quiet, good
looking young man with a ready smile I'm told, but stumped when it comes to
making relationships or even conversation. Soon after graduating my parents
decide to retire to their holiday home in Spain and I'm left looking after
a three bedroomed family home in Richmond on the edge of London.

After failing at the interview stage for several jobs I'd seen advertised I
decide to try an employment agency. The old guy, Mr Trent, who runs it, is
in his 40's. Tall and not bad looking and very friendly. I guess from his
chat and mannerisms he is gay and knows I am too. But we never talk about
it. And with my hesitancy about various jobs I suppose it's him rather than
me who decides I'd be right for a junior editorial job with a firm of
publishers.

I settle in quite well. Me sitting at my corner desk doing my work and
listening to my three male and two female workmates all a similar age to
myself chatting and joking. We take it in turns to make coffee.

"Your turn Phil", and I run off obeying their orders. Then I realise I'm
doing it more frequently than any of the others. They're taking advantage
of my willingness. I don't complain, but I blush deep red when one day
Bill, the office joker, says, "it's Phyllis's turn. From then on even the
girls refer me to as Phyllis. I simply smile and let them have their fun,
but I feel humiliated by my own willingness to obey their orders.

Late one afternoon when the office is about to close I'm in the staff
toilets standing at the urinal having a pee when my three male colleagues
come in. Bill pulls me away from the urinal.

"Let's have a look at your cock then Phyllis? See if you're a man."

While the other two, Nick and Alec, hold my arms Bill takes hold of my limp
cock. They laugh even more when I immediately sprout a stiff erection.

"Think he likes me handling his cock," said Bill.

Amidst more laughter, Bill undoes the belt of my trousers, lowers my zip
and pulls my pants and briefs down to my knees. While the other two hold
me, Bill pulls my trousers and underpants over my shoes and socks. Despite
my struggles, Alec unfastens my tie and shirtfront while Nick pulls my
jacket off. In seconds I'm standing there stark naked except for my socks
and shoes.

"Let's see if Phyllis has any spunk in him. You won't mind if I milk you,
will you Phyllis?"

I don't try to fight them, but submissively stand there naked with these
three guys in suits crowding me. Bill moves close behind me, puts his arm
around me and starts stroking my prick. I can feel his own stiff cock
pressing through the material of his pants. Alec and Nick stand watching
and giggling. It doesn't take long and panting with sexual excitement I
shoot my load over the toilet floor. They leave laughing, taking my clothes
with them. What am I to do? It sounds as if most of the staff have gone
home. The cleaner will arrive soon. A tap on the door. What to do? Another
tap. I open it a few inches to see one of the girls from my office. She
smiles, hands me a bundle of clothes and runs off. I can hear her laughing,
buy I'm so relieved to have clothes. Until I open the bundle and find a
woman's blouse, a short skirt, my wallet and keys. I'm shattered! But I've
no choice. I put the girl's clothes on. The blouse is tight and the mini
skirt short enough to reveal my thighs. I wait for half an hour until the
cleaner swings open the door. Blushing, I ease past her and walk towards
the exit. She mutters something about cheeky tarts using the 'gents'.

Walking quickly along the street I attract stares and some whistles. On the
packed tube I have to stand. Almost immediately I feel a hand moving under
my skirt and stroking my bare bottom. I'd been groped by gay guys on the
tube before, but this was quite different. I'm not sure which guy it is of
those pressed around me. He could be straight. A second hand slips under my
mini skirt at the front and begins stroking my inner thighs. When it makes
contact with my balls there is a slight hesitation, but when it grips my
hard prick it seems to gain courage and starts wanking me. Meanwhile the
fingers of the other hand excite me even more by probing my puckered
hole. Even if I want to do anything, my arms are both stretched upward
strap hanging. I begin to breath hard and a hunky 30 year old wearing dirty
plasterer's overalls grins close into my face.

"Nearly there girl?"

As I nod my spunk shoots out inside the skirt. The hand withdraws. I can
feel the sticky cum against my softening prick. The guy reaches up and
still grinning wipes his hand on my blouse. Two fingers are still fucking
my arse as I pull away and stumble out of the train. Looking back on the
platform I see a young guy in a dark business suit waving two fingers at
me. I rush for a taxi and once home swallow a large gin and tonic.

Early next morning, before my colleagues arrive, I inform the manager I
wish to leave. He expresses regret, but agrees to my request to go
immediately. He obviously knows something has happened. Perhaps the 'lads'
shared the joke with him? I wonder!

It takes me a couple of days to summon up courage to go back and see Mr
Trent. He's as friendly as ever and doesn't seem surprised to see me. He
explains the manager had phoned him to say I had resigned and also to say
he was prepared to offer references. Apparently he thought I was very well
behaved, a hard worker who completed my tasks ahead of my colleagues and
he'd been particularly struck by my eagerness to always obey orders even
from my co-workers.

Mr Trent informs me not to worry about being eager to do as I'm told. In
some circumstances it's an asset he says. And he has an employer who
welcomes such an attitude.

"They definitely look for young men like yourself willing to obey
orders. Does that sound acceptable to you Philip?" asks Mr Trent.

"Well, at my age you have to obey orders, don't you?"

"Of course you do. Now this company is rather special and I have a distinct
feeling your submissive attitude and other aptitudes will be most
welcome. It's a similar job in publishing as a junior assistant. Will you
be happy with that?"

"Sounds good," I respond eagerly.

"Why not go and see their Human Resources Manager immediately? I'll ring
him, OK? He'll explain the way they work and other details. If it doesn't
sound like the place for you, come back and see me. But I'm sure you're
going to enjoy it and fit in."

After thanking Mr Trent profusely I rush off to the address he gives me. In
fact it's only a short walk. An imposing post-modern block of offices. I
give the young smiling male receptionist my name.

"Take the lift to the fifth floor. Room 510. Mr Anders is expecting you."

The fifth floor seems very quiet, deserted. I knock timidly on the door of
510.

"Come in please".

I enter a small office with a desk at one side and an inner door opposite
with a few chairs on either side of it. Behind a desk working on a computer
is a good looking guy in his 40's with dark hair, wearing a dark suit and a
pale blue tie. He comes around the desk arm outstretched with a most
friendly smile on has face.

"Mr Anders?" I ask.

"No, my name's Gerry. You must be Philip Dudley."

"That's me sir," I said as we shake hands.

"I'm a junior here. We only address seniors as 'Sir' Philip. Take a seat,
I'll let Mr Anders know you are here."

"Philip Dudley is here Sir," says Gerry as he presses an intercom button.

"Bring him in Gerry."

Gerry opens the inner door and ushers me into a very large well-furnished
office. A smiling Mr Anders, probably in his early forties, wearing a dark
suit with a bright red tie, comes forward to greet me and shake my hand
firmly.

"Come and take a seat Phil, Mr Trent has told me all about you. That's all
for now Gerry.

As Gerry leaves I take the indicated chair in front of a huge desk.

"I know the publishing house you were working for Phil and I've received
glowing reports of your work and especially your agreeable
willingness. Both will suit you to this company which publishes a range of
rather exclusive books. First I must explain our set-up. We employ only
male staff. Some, whatever their age or level of work might be, are
referred to as juniors and can be distinguished by their pale blue
ties. The rest are seniors like myself who wear red ties. You understand?"

"Yes Sir."

"Everyone is paid very well. Your salary for instance will be double what
you were receiving at your last job. All we expect in return is that
juniors obey orders. Will that be a problem for you?"

"No Sir."

"Excellent. I should also explain that new junior staff work their first
two weeks as probationers so that we can gauge their obedience."

"I understand Sir."

"Good. So go and stand in that corner with your hands on your head." Mr
Anders indicates the corner with a pointed finger.

He must be joking! Feeling a fool I do as I'm told. It's like being back at
school. Mr Anders speaks to several people on the phone before Gerry comes
in.

"Take Phil down to the medical centre, Doctor O'Brien's expecting him."

I feel a gentle tug on my jacket sleeve and Gerry takes me out of the
office and down the corridor to the lift.

"You can take your hands off your head now Phil."

Gerry grins as I blush and remove my hands.

"Don't worry Phil, we juniors all get cornertime occasionally. You'll see."

Down to the second floor and the medical centre. I stand in front of Dr
O'Brien's desk with a young male nurse in a white uniform standing to one
side and Gerry to the other.

Dr O'Brien, handsome and in his 30's, wears a suit, white coat and red
tie. He looks up and simply says, "strip naked young man."

I'm astounded and hesitate.

"Obey or my assistants will do it for you."

Slowly I remove my jacket, tie and shirt. Stooping down I take off my shoes
and socks. I undo my belt and zip and let my trousers fall to the floor and
then my briefs. The male nurse scoops up my clothes and deposits them in a
plastic bag. Dr O'Brien performs the usual sort of medical
examination. Looks down my throat, into my eyes and into my ears. He pushes
my head down and the nurse pulls my arse cheeks apart. Some sort of lube is
applied and the doctor inserts a finger. I whimper and my prick is hard
instantly. God! This is embarrassing.  The finger probes further and then
rotates and pushes in and out. I breathe hard and I have to admit secretly
enjoying every second. The finger is withdrawn. The nurse cleans me up with
several wet wipes while taking the opportunity to push his finger up my
hole.

"Take him next door and rig him out Gerry." Dr O'Brien gives my arse a hard
slap as Gerry escorts me out of the room.

I'm still stark naked! In a long room with racks of clothes down either
side. A portly middle aged man wearing a red tie takes hold of my erect
prick and pulls me to the centre of the room.

"I'm Mr Kent. You're rather petite, but very cute. Small sizes I think."

He takes a navy blue suit from the rack and gives me the trousers to put
on. No underpants! They fit tightly especially around my bottom. White
shirt and pale blue tie. Navy socks and black shoes. The jacket is short
enough to show off my tight pants. Mr Kent looks me over.

"Very satisfactory junior outfit. Now strip again and give your clothes to
Gerry."

Well why not, they've seen me naked anyhow? I strip off. Mr Kent hands me a
pale blue tee shirt. I put it on and in a nearby long mirror can see it
reveals the bottom half of my ass and the tip of my prick. I look at Mr
Kent questioningly.

"Your probationer's uniform and if I may say so you look quite
beautiful. They're going to love you on the top floor. Take him up there
Gerry."

Exiting the lift on the top floor we enter a large lobby, Gerry immediately
takes off his trousers.

"No junior is allowed to wear trousers up here Phil. Follow me."

I notice Gerry's shirt is not long enough to cover his bum and he has a
long cock hanging well below his shirt. He's still carrying my junior
outfit on a hanger.

"This is the Senior Manager's suite. The four of them run the
company. You'll see their names on these doors. The probationers use this
room here."

Gerry opens the door of a small office and hangs my outfit on a wall hook
with the number 3 above it. Hooks number one and two have outfits like mine
hanging on them. Otherwise, except for three black leather armchairs the
room is empty. I then notice a shower cubicle in one corner.

"See the call sign above the door Phil. When a number lights up it means a
probationer is required and you go immediately to that room. Remember to
knock. Okay? I'll be seeing you."

Gerry departs and I sit down in an armchair feeling the leather cold
against my bare bottom. What have I let myself in for this time? Or, more
correctly, what has the nice Mr Trent let me in for? Except whatever it is,
I'm sure I'm keen to be involved. I'm jolted out of my daydreaming when a
bell suddenly rings. I look up. Room 2. I hasten to room 2 and knock.

"Enter."

I find myself in a palatially furnished office with floor to ceiling
windows on two sides and a huge desk behind which sits a smiling, good
looking, dark haired guy, late 30's in his shirt sleeves wearing a red tie.

"You must be the new one. Phil is it?"

"Yes Sir."

"And what is my name Phil?"

The blank look on my face gives the answer.

"Always read the name on the door Phil. I'm Mr Cleaver. You'll have to be
punished for that later. I have something else you need to attend to
first. Come over here."

Mr Cleaver points to a spot next to him. I run around the desk. His
trousers and underpants are around his ankles and his beautiful
purple-headed great rampant cock is sticking up into the air.

"Suck it. Get it ready."

I drop to my knees and take the head of his engorged penis into my mouth
and suck. His hand on the back of my head pushes me down. I gag; he eases
and pushes again. I find a rhythm and work this man's weapon with the
little skill I have acquired over the years.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, suck it you bitchboy. Suck it. Now stop and stand up."

Obeying, he pulls me backward onto his lap.

"Sit on it boy." I feel him directing his fucking tool into me. A little at
a time, he's being gentle. I feel his pubic hairs against my arse. With his
hands on my waist helping, I bounce up and down. Mr Trent had said I would
enjoy the job and I certainly am. A couple of groans from Mr Cleaver and he
unloads his sperm into me. My own prick is leaking pre-cum.

"Okay Phil, up you get and suck it clean."

I'm down on my knees instantly. Licking his spunk and my arse juices off
his softening cock. He pushes me off, zips up and stands.

"Stand up Phil and bend over the desk."

I comply. He lifts my tee shirt up to expose my bare bottom and starts
spanking me. Gently at first and slowly. Speeding up he is soon slamming
each of my cheeks in turn. I'm yelling and wriggling, but his free hand
firmly on my back prevents me escaping. I can't help it, I begin to
blub. Tears roll down my face. I'm weeping and realise it's also a sort of
enjoyment. At last he stops.

"Go and stand in the corner and hold your shirt up."

Straightening up I see Mr Cleaver grinning at me before I turn, walk to a
corner of the office and stand with my face to the wall holding up my shirt
and feeling the fiery glow of my bottom. A knock on the door and someone
enters. Whoever they are, they can see me standing holding up my shirt and
showing my spanked butt. I cringe slightly.

"Is there something you want me to do Sir?"

"Yes Hugh. Take this boy and show him where he can have lunch."

A hand grips my arm and I'm led out of the office. Only then can I turn to
see who Hugh is. He's a tall, well-built guy with a smiling, handsome face,
dark hair and in his 30's. He is wearing a probationer's shirt and I can
see the end of his cock.

"Did he fuck you?"

"Well, I sat on his cock really. He did fuck me."

"Mr Cleaver always likes to be first with the new boys. The other three may
be older, but in my opinion they're better. You'll see."

"Have they all fucked you Hugh?"

"Heaps of times. I've been a probationer for a month."

"They told me it was only for two weeks."

"Depends on vacancies downstairs."

Hugh runs his hands up inside my shirt and around to feel my bottom and
grope my prick.

"A little beauty like you they may keep much longer. Come on, let's eat."

We go down in the lift to the next floor and walk out into a pleasant
cafeteria. There are signs indicating 'Seniors' to one side and 'Juniors'
to the other. I'm surprised when we join the queue at the 'Seniors' counter
and I'm strongly aware we are surrounded by guys in suits with red ties and
the two of us are half-naked.

"How come we get served at this counter?" I ask Hugh.

"In here we're what they call a senior's perk. Meaning any senior can do
what he likes with us. You'll see."

The catering guys behind the counter wearing white shirts with pale blue
ties, greet us warmly and pile our trays with very English food. We move
into the seating area where Hugh tells me to sit at an empty table while he
goes to sit at another. Almost immediately two guys in suits and red ties,
carrying their trays, move from other tables and sit on either side of me.

"I'm Archie," says one. "You're new." His hand is already lifting my shirt
and squeezing my nipple.

"Yes, I started today. My name's Phil."

"Well, hello Phil, my name's Carl. You're very cute." This is the guy on my
other side who has his hand between my legs, groping my hard prick.

"Suppose Cleaver has already fucked you," says Archie.

"Well er..."

"No need to be shy Phil. Did you enjoy it is the important thing?", Carl
asks.

"We're making him blush Carl. Let's wait until we've eaten then we'll beat
an answer out of him."

Both guys who are only about my own age are groping me and threatening to
beat me. I concentrate on eating in spite of their hands on my naked
body. As soon as I put down my knife and fork, they stop eating and turn on
me.

"Stand up and bend over the table Phil," Archie orders.

Doing as I'm told I catch a glimpse of Hugh being arse and mouth fucked by
two much older red ties two tables away. By the eager way he is blowing the
guy off I can only assume he's enjoying it all. Expecting the same myself,
I'm surprised when Archie and Carl start spanking me, each adopting one
cheek of my bottom. My shirt is pushed up to my shoulders and two other red
ties are wanking themselves over my back. Another slowly approaches me with
his rock hard cock sticking out of his trousers. Without being ordered I
start to lick the precum off his rather attractive cockhead.

"Did you enjoy Cleaver fucking you Phil? Come on, tell everyone," asks
Archie.

"Yes Sir, Yes I did." I pause from licking precum and realise there's a
crowd of red ties around the table witnessing my degradation.

"Did you suck his cock clean afterwards?" This is Carl as he slams a hard
one against my left cheek.

"Yes Sir, I did. Please stop spanking me Sir or I'm going to cry."

"That's when we stop Phil. Suck on that cock, it helps."

And it does. I suck and suck. The pain is there, but less so. Until their
hand strikes become very hard. Then I am weeping and the guy fucking my
mouth seems increasingly excited by my tears. He jerks his big cock several
times and I feel a flood of his semen shooting into my mouth. He pulls away
and another cock enters my mouth. It's Archie and he's shouting.

"Fuck him Carl. Give him what the bitch needs."

The spanking has stopped, but I'm now being fucked front and rear by these
two young red ties in front of an applauding crowd. They unload at almost
the same time and I swallow one load as I feel the other spurting up my
arse.


Please let me know what you think of this fantasy.
will.obe@btinternet.com