Summer Intern Chapter 5

Author: lithium500mg
Title: Summar Intern Chapter 5
Date: 11 March 2015

Summer Intern Chapter 5

My last notes ended when we six interns were freshly dressed in chain harnesses and genital armor. Our hands were uncuffed, and we were still in a line restrained by the pipe threaded through the back of our harnesses. But our hands were now free to examine the steel cock-and-ball traps and the three-tiered chain harness to which the trap was attached. I saw my compadres start to stimulate their own nipples (some I think bashfully), and I did the same. The nipples felt good sticking out of the harness so prominently, and both the steel surrounding them and the day’s events magnified their sensitivity.

Welder pulled out the pipe that joined the six, and Supervisor led us back to the dining area where we were offered water, some delicious nuts, and fresh fruit. Walking the several steps from the barn gave us our first experience moving with all that hardware between our legs. My junk was pretty much out of order. Once the metal cock sheath warmed up, my dick was pretty much dead, that is, had very little feeling. The cock ring however, kept continuous pressure on the balls, and the frequent re-erections added more pressure. As a result, dick and balls were never far from my mind.

I remember sitting down at the table and noting that my “intergluteal cleft” opened up a little while the chain tightened, causing me to clench around the chain. It was a little more comfortable standing. We six were allowed to talk to each other for the first time since “capture.” We couldn’t talk about our situation, of course, but we had a chance to get to know each other.

I’ve described previously Number 2 (the weeper) and Number 4 (the Swede). Number 5 is a beach volleyball player from Pepperdine University, a Christian-oriented school leaning heavily to the conservative and evangelical. It lies in the hills just above Malibu. Number 5 was very tan with sun-bleached head and body hair. The deep tan on his white skin intensified the tan line from his board shorts, making him look more like a Spartan surfer than a Spartan fighter. When his darker pubic hair was being shaved, Number 5 (the surfer) almost shot, but quick action on his newly-shaved balls by Welder fixed that.

Number 1 is a baseball player from Pomona College, east of Los Angeles. His weight was the most evenly spread around his body of the six of us. Even though he was left-handed, he seemed the calmest of the six of us (I was taught that lefties were screwy). His dick seemed always to be about ready to burst, but he kept everything inside, as we all had to do until Wednesday. Number One (“lefty”) looked the most like a Spartan warrior. He kept shifting his shoulders and chest to shake and settle the harness the way he liked it. I got as hard as I could get just watching him.

We had about 30 minutes at the snack table before we were directed to the building housing the showers and wash room. The showers were just shower heads on outside of the building where anyone walking by could observe us. It was a little of a shock to see just a single valve under the shower heads, meaning there was no hot water. Supervisor encouraged us to empty our bladders while showering, which I did, and I think the others did. The six of us got cleaned up good. We even helped each other wash our backs. There was good shampoo and good soap and good towels. In spite of the cool water (it wasn’t really cold) we got clean, dried off, and went to brush our teeth.

We found the supplied toothbrushes and floss, and used them. Number One and Number Five had not used floss before, so I showed them what to do. This gave me an opportunity to check out their harnesses. Number Five seemed to enjoy when I playfully lifted the front waist chain which pulled his iron-covered package a little higher and tightened his butt-crack chain. I banged the handle of my toothbrush on Number Two’s iron jock which made him smile. Someone gave me a chain wedgie.

When we were done, I expected to be led to my own room and bed, or at least my own bed. Instead, we were led to a single room with a lone bed meant for the six of us. We were to sleep in a common bed, but the bed was plenty wide. This arrangement seemed a little unsettling to me, but we were all tired and not ready to fight or complain. The bedding looked extremely comfortable (it was), and clean (it was), and plentiful (several extra comforters). The six of us got into the bed, took a little time to get used to the concept, and, one-by-one, crashed. The next thing I knew it was morning.

When I woke up, a warm hand was fingering my nipples, and my arm was hanging over Number Two on the other side of me. I gave the favor to Number Two, and he seemed to enjoy it. Even when everyone was awake, no one seemed anxious to get out of bed, but pretty soon the monopoly was broken. Some of us just wanted to stand up, we all had morning wood (really just more groin pressure) and we were hungry.

Supervisor came by at 8:00am precisely and led us to breakfast. While the sleeping room was warm, partly due to body heat, it was cool outside in the morning, and we walked briskly barefoot and stark naked except for our metalwork. I was amazed by the daylight shining on the metal jocks and chains, and chests and butts and nipples. It was like a dream, and the pressure built in my ball-and-dick trap. I could imagine cocks swelling under their iron jocks like mine was.

Cook prepared the custom breakfasts as promised. Cereal, eggs, toast, juice, coffee, but preserved meats were not served as Control claims they are unhealthy. Last night the talk among us was mostly banter. At breakfast, we wondered aloud what the day would bring and what kind of activities were scheduled. We knew better than to address Cook or the others in the study team. After an unrushed meal, Supervisor unlocked the groin connection of our butt chains and marched us to the opposite side of the building from the showers.

The toilets were lined up in a row, but, thankfully for me, there were separators to hide each crapper from the view of the others. I got cold on the crapper, and colder when we immediately went to the showers. I got into the spirit of full faggotry and participated in washing as many backs and chests and legs as I could. We kept it short as everyone wanted to get dry and warm as soon as possible.

When all were done, Supervisor relocked the butt-crack chains, and we reassembled in the Office. There was no need to get dressed as we were just about as dressed as we were going to be for 60 more days. Control began to describe our activities for the next few hours.

We were going to the lake. Well, we were going to the headwaters of the lake. Well, we were going to a canyon in the Panamints to pan for gold. There is no water in the lake, and there is no water in the “headwaters.” Control said that we would keep the gold we panned. We would be at the site for five hours, and then return to the camp complex. The exact location of the gold-panning site is still a secret among the study team and the six interns. Number One and I have been back since.

Supervisor issued us leather sandals that fastened with straps up the calves. Once I saw them on Number One where he looked like he was ready to attack the Persians, I wanted mine as did the other four. We were all getting into this Spartan warrior gig as well as the faggot gig, and I think we all forgot last night’s strange events and discipline, or at least put it in the backs of our minds. Steel and leather on packed flesh helped this forgetfulness along.

The bus picked us up and off we went for a 30 minute ride, mostly on salt and dirt roads pointing towards the barren mountains. Welder did the majority of the talking during the trip, mostly describing how to look for good gold panning sites. We would be “dry-panning,” which means panning in the classical sense but without water.

When we got to the camp site at the mouth of the canyon, Welder issued the panning equipment and instructed us on how to use the pan to separate the gold from the sand. This activity would take up a lot of our time over the next 60 days. It was a competition. The intern who panned the most gold for the day would be the first to have his semen released.

Cook and Supervisor went about to set up a sun shelter and tables for the eating area. After Welder’s lessons, we were encouraged to apply sunscreen on our entire bodies including the top of our heads. We enthusiastically smeared the slippery substance all over each other’s bodies with lots of attention paid to the pecs and the butts. I wanted, and got, a first-hand feel of Number One’s nipples as well as Number Four and Number Five. I couldn’t help thinking about licking Number Six’s butt, but I quickly buried the thought as only true and committed faggots would do something like that. I still dream of his tight white buns squeezing his cleft. For my part, I got a complete coating of my entire butt cleft and everything else. All this contact by muscular Spartan Greek gods magnified my desperation to cum.