Date: Mon, 28 Dec 2015 21:21:36 +1030
From: Amanda Stern <astern50@gmail.com>
Subject: My New Career (Part 1) - TG

I hope you enjoy this kinky tale of a career choice gone wrong, my first on
this wonderful site. It starts a little slowly, but there's plenty of
action to come in later chapters. Please email me with any comments.

===================

MY NEW CAREER - PART 1

Nervously, I checked my watch, for what seemed the fiftieth time since
arriving. And for the fiftieth straight time, it was still too early to go
in. In fact I could swear the hands hadn't moved. Resisting the urge to
shake the offending timepiece, I stared up again at the gleaming office
tower I was waiting to enter. It seemed rather too expensive a location for
a training college, but I had rechecked the address several times.

Pulling the letter from my inside jacket pocket, I scanned it again. I was
invited to an interview to join the Ceder College, described as
"Australia's premier retraining institution". Their website had certainly
looked very professional, with testimonials from a number of young, good
looking and clearly very satisfied graduates. The job advertisement that
had first caught my eye promised that after an initial induction period,
successful applicants would be able to command a salary that would outstrip
anything that a new teacher - or even an established one - could expect to
get working in a regular school.

As I tucked the letter away again, I caught sight of my reflection in the
glass of the automatic doors I was waiting to go through. Unfortunately, I
looked as nervous as I felt - hardly surprising, given that this was my
first real shot at a job since finishing an education diploma ten months
ago. The job market for social studies teachers had been a lot tighter than
I'd imagined, and I had been on the verge of thinking about a different
career choice when I saw the ad for this position.

Tucking my shoulder-length hair behind my ears, I wondered again if I
shouldn't have cut it. But I liked it that way. Besides, it helped distract
from what I couldn't help thinking was a rather lean and drawn face, in
which my large blue eyes - always my most striking feature - stood out even
more than normal. The strict diet which months of unemployment had forced
on me had certainly shed a lot of the fat I had put on at university, but
had also left me looking less than healthy.

Glancing again at my watch, I saw that there were still five minutes to go.
Ah well, it wouldn't hurt to be a little early. Striding into the
well-appointed lobby I located the lift that would take me to the 17th
floor. As I'd been instructed, I used the keypad on the wall of the lift to
enter a special access code, before pressing the button 17. To my surprise,
the lift started moving downwards. After a short ride it came to rest and
the doors slid open. I was on the verge of pressing the 17 button again
when I saw a sign on the corridor wall outside, with the name Ceder College
and an arrow pointing off to the right.

Shaking my head in consternation I walked out of the lift and followed the
arrow to what was clearly a reception desk. As I approached it, I reflected
that the unexpected location was not the first odd feature of Ceder's
business I'd encountered. Their online application form had been unusually
detailed, with queries about personal habits, likes and dislikes that I
assumed represented some kind of psychometric test. I'd very nearly baulked
at answering some of the questions, but in the end desperation for a job
had won out.

As I approached the desk the attractive young receptionist smiled at me
and asked my name. When I gave it she gave a nod of recognition, stood up
and beckoned me to follow her. As she ushered me through a doorway behind
and to the left of the desk, she looked back and smiled.

"This way Mr Riley. I'm afraid the principals will be a little late, but
they've asked me to give you some refreshments while you wait."

Her voice was low and breathy, and she had a power blue scarf tied around
her neck, making me wonder whether she had a cold. She looked me up and
down and then smiled again. "If you don't mind me saying so, you look like
you could do with a bit of a feed!"

As she moved ahead of me again and opened another door to admit me to a
large, comfortably furnished office, I reflected that I rather did mind,
but felt that it would be churlish to say so. Besides, my attention had
been caught by something far more interesting - her long and shapely legs,
encased in shimmering black nylon and with calves attractively sculpted by
the high heels she wore.

As my eyes traveled up I caught a glimpse of what looked for all the world
like stocking tops just beneath the hem of her short, black skirt. She
looked as if she had come straight out of one of the porn sites I had
fallen into the habit of browsing - the kind dedicated to girls in uniform.

As I sat down on the comfortable couch to which the receptionist had shown
me, I couldn't help sneaking another look at her beautiful legs. The amused
look she gave me as I looked up and caught her eye seemed to suggest she
knew exactly where my gaze had been. But if so, she made no comment, simply
pouring me a coffee and encouraging me to sample the plate of delicious
looking pastries that had been left on a nearby coffee table. They tasted
as good as they looked, with a spicy, cinnamon tang that quickly had me
returning for more.

As I waited in the office, munching away and idly admiring the paintings
that decorated the windowless walls, I reflected that, odd basement
location or not, this was a working environment I could certainly handle.

My reverie was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. As I rose to
greet the two people who walked in, I felt oddly light-headed. Blinking
uncertainly, I took the proffered hand of a tall, well built man,
wearing what looked like an expensive suit. He could have been anywhere
from his early forties to late fifties. His face creased as he
smiled, released his firm grasp and gestured to the woman beside him.

"Hello Mr Riley", he said in a pleasant, well modulated voice, "it's a
pleasure to meet you. I'm Gordon Everett, and this is Kristen, my sister
and co-principal of Ceder College."

"Uh, thank you ... and please call me Martin", I managed to get out as I
shook Kristen's hand.  Clad in a smart jacket and pants, and every bit as
tall as her brother, she cut a figure of crisp, elegant efficiency, her
handsome face accentuated by the bold shade of red on her lips. Again, I
found it hard to place her age. Something about her cool gaze sent a flush
of heat to my face and neck. Her smile widened as a little as she gestured
for me to resume my seat.

Settling back down, I felt ofddly disconnected as I watched my hosts settle
into a couch opposite me. The next few minutes passed in a kind of blur as
we chatted inconsequentially, until something that Mr Everett said seemed
to pierce the fog surrounding me. Shaking my head to try and clear it, I
asked him to repeat his last remark.

"I said, you seem like an ideal candidate", he repeated, leaning forward.
"Your profile and test results are exactly what we're looking for. And
we're sure we can set you on a new direction - one that will bring you the
kind of earnings and lifestyle that most teaching graduates can only dream
of."

As I smiled uncertainly, he went on. "There's just one key test we need you
to pass. You see, Ceder College has a very strict code of discipline, and
some slightly ... ah, old-fashioned ways of meting out punishment. It's
important to us that all our employees be comfortable with this."

He rose, went to a desk and tapped a button. "Grace, could you please send
Jason in?" Smiling at his sister, he resumed his seat.

A few seconds later the door opened to admit a young man with an unruly mop
of straw-coloured hair, a wiry frame and a deep, bronze tan. He would have
looked every bit the surfer if he had not been wearing what looked like a
private school uniform - a smart, blue blazer over a white shirt and blue
tie with diagonal stripes, together with grey shorts, long grey socks and
black shoes. His finely cut features made him look quite young, although
the College's website had made it clear that only adults could enrol.

With an air of resignation that suggested he knew what was about to happen,
he stood in the centre of the office with his hands by his side. Looking
down at the principals, he said quietly "Sir, ma'am?"

It was Kristen who answered. "Ah, Jason, I'm sure you know why you're here.
We simply can't tolerate the kind of attitude you've been displaying in
your lessons. Unless you want to be expelled, with all the,
ah, consequences that implies, I'm afraid it will be the usual penalty."
Like her brother, her voice had an easy air of command. She jerked her head
towards the desk. "You know what to do."

The student opened his mouth as if about to say something, thought better
of it and crossed the room. Turning his back he undid his shorts, tugged
both them and the white underpants beneath them down around his ankles and
leant forward until his forearms rested on the desk, legs straight and
slightly splayed. His pale, white buttocks gleamed in the artificial glare
of the light globes recessed into the ceiling of the office.

"Good boy", murmured Kristen approvingly. "You'll be pleased to hear that
you will not have to put up with Mr Everett's heavy hand today. Mr Riley
here is on probation and he's going to administer, oh, shall we say, just
ten strokes?" As she said this, she picked up a wooden ruler and held it
out to me.

I stared at her blankly, looked over again at the youth bent over the desk,
then turned my uncomprehending gaze on Gordon Everett. He smiled gently and
nodded towards the unfortunate Jason. "On you go, ten strokes with the
ruler. And do it properly. You do want this job, don't you?"

For some reason, it didn't occur to me to refuse. It seemed entirely right
that I do what I was told. Still in a daze, I stood up, took the instrument
of punishment and shuffled over to stand beside Jason. For a moment I just
looked down at his raised rump. His submissive position seemed almost ...
inviting. For no reason I could possibly explain, I felt my cock stir in my
pants. In confusion, I brought the ruler down and slapped it on his bottom.
He started but made no sound.

"Come on Mr Riley, that was just a love tap - you can do better than that!"
Kirsten's tone was teasing, but with an undertone that suggested that
disobedience was not an option. This time I put much more force into the
smack and was rewarded - if that was really the right term - with a gasp of
pain from Jason and a red imprint on his backside.

Eight more swift strikes and the punishment was done. Jason's gasps had
turned to whimpers and his buttocks bore a criss-cross pattern of welts.
And with each blow my cock had inexplicably hardened a little more.
Blinking, I looked over at the two principals. Gordon, his satisfied smile
as wide as that of his sister, nodded at my efforts and gestured towards a
low chest of drawers next to the desk.

"If you open the top drawer, you'll find some ointment you can apply to
relieve some of Jason's discomfort. He may have been very naughty, but we
don't want to leave any nasty marks, do we?"

Again, I had no thought other than to obey. Pulling out a bottle of aloe
vera moisturising cream, I squirted some on my hands and began gently
applying it to Jason's reddened buttocks. He flinched, then I felt him
relax as the cool cream began to do its work. But the action of gently
massaging his taut butt-cheeks had the very opposite effect on me. My
erection grew with each sensual stroke and it was all I could do to resist
the urge to spread the cream further down onto his thighs and between his
legs.

As I rubbed in the last of the lotion and almost regretfully returned the
lbottle to the drawer, I dimly wondered what on earth I found so exciting
about Jason and his body. It was not as if I had ever felt any interest in
my own sex before. Yet the throbbing hard-on that strained against my pants
seemed to tell a very different story.

A glance at the principals made it clear that they too were fully aware of
my arousal. Yet the warm smile Kristen gave me as her gaze went down to my
crotch and then back up to my face seemed if anything to heighten my
ardour. "Jason", she called softly, "you can pull your pants up now. And
then I think it's time for you to give Mr Riley a bit of relief too, don't
you think? Seems only fair after that lovely massage he gave you."

As the young man straightened up and gingerly pulled up his shorts, the air
in the room seemed to become warmer and heavier. I broke our in a sweat,
but stood motionless as the young man I had just spanked and then caressed
- there was no other word for it - knelt down in front of me.

Transfixed by a lust that seemed at once both artificial and thrillingly
real, I did not resist as he undid my zip and reached inside to pull out my
swollen member. Freeing its modest five inches with what seemed like
practised ease, Jason ran his tongue down both sides of the shaft and then
opened his mouth wide to engulf me.

The sensation as his wam, wet mouth trapped my throbbing cock sent electric
shivers coursing through my body. As he began to bob his head back and
forth, my hands came up involuntarily to grasp his head and I began to
thrust forward to match his rhythm.

As if from a far distance I heard Kristen calling out encouragement to us
both, though the words seemed to get lost in the fog that still enveloped
me - until one phrase pierced it. "That's right, fuck his pretty face, you
know you want to!"

As I opened my eyes properly for the first time since Jason had begun
sucking my cock, I looked down to see him tilt his head back slightly and
meet my gaze. Something about his cherubic features drove me over the edge
and I began to surge harder and faster into his wet, willing orifice. It
was the work of a few seconds to rise to a threshold, then as the climax
hit I shot jets of cream into his mouth. Swallowing convulsively as he took
my load, he continued to milk me as my thrusts slowed and my hands fell to
my side.

Panting and groaning with a mix of exertion and the lingering effects of
the shattering orgasm, I sank to my knees beside Jason. With a hint of a
smile he leant in and whispered in my ear. "I may not like getting spanked,
but that's something I've really learned to enjoy here."

Unexpectedly, he reached up to stroke my cheek, then brought his lips to
mine. As my mouth opened, seemingly of its own volition, our tongues made
contact and we shared a brief, wet kiss. It left a salty, unfamiliar taste
that I realised must be the residue of my own seed.

"Thank you Mr Riley", he said in a louder, more formal tone and without
another word stood up and left the room. Still stunned by what had
happened, I turned to the principals.

"Well now, that was very instructive, don't you think?" said Gordon. "Even
if we did give you a little, ah, chemical assistance, it seemed pretty
clear you were a willing participant."

Rising, he walked over to the desk, dug out a sheaf of papers and smoothed
them out. Picking up a pen, he motioned to me to join him. "Here's your
training contract, just sign in the three places indicated, please.
Although you might, ah, want to tidy up first?"

Following his amused gaze, I looked down at the apidly shrinking member,
still hanging from the front of my pants. Embarrassed, but still feeling
oddly docile, I quickly tucked my cock away, zipped up and stood, my legs
still weak and trembling. It was the work of a minute to sign the document.
I made no effort to read it, assuming the terms of employment would be
fairly standard and match the salary I'd been promised.

"Excellent", said Gordon, "so good to have you on board. I'm sure you won't
mind staying for a brief induction, then we'll have you back tomorrow for
your first lessons."

Still shaking, and baffled by the turn my "interview" had taken, my head
was starting to clear. But it still took me a minute to sort through the
questions I wanted to ask. "Uh, lessons, right ... But, er, what subject
will I be teaching?"

"Teaching?" exclaimed Kristen, her tone one of amusement. "Who said
anything about you teaching?"

I stared at her stupidly, then managed to find a slightly stronger voice.
"But I mean the ad, the employment contract I just signed, the salary ..."

She cut off my expostulations. "Oh, we were looking for teaching graduates
alright, but there was nothing said about the job involving you giving
lessons. In fact, you'll be receiving lessons. You do have a lot to learn,
as you'll quickly realise. As for the salary ... well, if you work out
you'll certainly be making that kind of money, or more."

I shook my head, still not understanding. "But why would I agree to take
lessons here?" I asked, throwing my hands in the air.

"Well for one thing, it's in the contract you've just signed", answered
Gordon. "And for another, I'm sure you wouldn't want the Teachers
Registration Board seeing these photos. Or the police for that matter ..."

As he said this he turned a screen on the desk so I could see it.
Horrified, I watched as it displayed a series of pictures, evidently taken
from some kind of hidden camera, that showed Jason giving me the blowjob
that I had so recently and very visibly enjoyed. In the shots, Jason looked
even younger than he had in real life - and the uniform gave every
impression of an age that was far below the legal limit.

A yawning pit opened in my stomach as I stammered "B-but, you m-made me
..." I tailed off as the image on the screen changed to one of me sharing
what looked for all the world a passionate kiss with Jason.

"We did not", said Kristen flatly. "Encouraged you, yes. Enticed you - most
definitely. But it was your own choice to take advantage of that delicious
young man. And it will be your own choice now if you choose to breach the
contract you've just signed. Though there will, I'm sure you now fully
understand, be penalties ..."

The words "But you can't -" sprang to my lips ... and died there, as I
realised that they could, and quite possibly would. Bowing my head in
defeat, I muttered "All right, it seems you have me over the proverbial
barrel. I suppose I'm going to have to wear one of those ridiculous
uniforms, right?"

Kirsten arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "You mean, the one dear Jason
was wearing? Oh no, nothing like that." She rose, crossed the office and
picked up a bag, from which she pulled a pair of high-heeled shoes and two
wispy  black stockings. She showed them to me, dropped them back in the bag
and then threw it to me.

As I relflexively caught the bag she laughed at the expression on my face.
"Your uniform is going to be much more exciting, as you can see. You'll be
amazed how good you're going to look in it ... Katie."

[To be continued ...]