The Telemachus Story Archive

First Day
Chapter 1
By Telemachus

Tom was looking forward to his first day at work. A big, blonde, amiable guy, fresh out of school, he needed a job and finding one hadn't been as easy as he had thought. At school he had never come top in any test or exam. Everyone liked him, but another Einstein he wasn't! Even at sport, he never made it past the second team, not at football, swimming, running, you name it. He looked like the perfect jock, but he couldn't find anything he could be number one at.

Still, he didn't worry about it. He was young, good-looking and full of life. Maybe the world of employment would give him his chance.

It took some time, but eventually he found himself accepted for a job that wasn't just a brain-dead, nine-to-five time-filler.

He was a security guard! He looked himself up and down in the mirror. His new uniform fitted perfectly. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs. He had just had his long blonde hair cut short and with the cap pulled firmly on his head, he had that really tough look that every security guard should have. He relaxed and gave himself a big toothy grin. A job! And loads of opportunity for advancement (the guy who interviewed him had said). Wow, no wonder he felt excited. He felt like pulling out his big thick dick and jerking off to his own reflection.

"Hell no. I don't want to be late for my first day". He grinned again, 'First Day', that sounded good. He repeated it again to himself as he went to get his bike, a present from his pa after he had graduated (just). "First day", he said again as he rode to the big factory on the eastside of town.

It was early evening when he got there. The last of the workers were leaving and the big car park was almost empty. He found his way to the security control room and went in.

"Hi, I'm Tom" he said cheerily to the two men inside, who looked casually up at him.

"I'm Rich, and that's Harry" Rich was somewhere in his late twenties, lean, good-looking, thick light brown hair, cut short. He was leaning back in his chair, feet up on the control desk, his security guard uniform looking pretty well-used, a copy of Playboy open on his lap. Harry was a broad-shouldered guy, older than Rich, mid thirties maybe, signs of grey coming through his short, dark hair. He just grunted and returned his attention to the soft porn magazine he was reading.

Rich showed Tom the routine. By the time they had locked down the factory and got back to the control room night was fast approaching. Rich opened his Playboy magazine and Tom set about making the coffee. At one end of the room was the control panel, a screen showed the outside of main door and a circular pool of light in front of it. At the other end of the room was a big black old fashioned safe. "Used to hold the payroll" said Harry "Before they computerized everything".

Everything progressed in a nice quiet way. That suited Rich and Harry, but Tom just felt bored. When midnight came and Rich announced it was time to do the rounds, Tom leapt at the chance to do something other that make even more coffee.

"I know what to do, I'll do it" He said eagerly.

"OK kid, off you go" As Tom happily bounced out of the room Harry turned to Rich "Y'know, at this rate he'll be doing all the work, all night long, and grateful for the opportunity" Rich guffawed his agreement and settled down to get some sleep.

Tom picked up a flashlight and went down the stairs. As he left the building he carefully closed the security door behind him, listening to it lock, then he waved cheerfully at the security camera trained on the door and strode off into the gloom.

He wandered along the route listening to the various small noises of the night. he could get to like this job. The pay wasn't too bad and Rich and Harry were OK, boring, but OK. Lost in his thoughts he failed to notice the slight noise behind him until it was too late.

Suddenly a damp cloth was slapped over his face, hands gripped his arms, a black, leather clad arm swung around his chest, pulling him backwards. He gasped and took in a lung full of sickly, sweet fumes. His head spinning, he tried to break free, but there was more than one guy holding him. He tried to hold his breath, but his air supply was running out. He was forced to take more of the drugged vapor into his lungs. He felt his legs buckle, his hands fell away from the imprisoning arm and what little light he could see faded away. He felt the hands lowering his limp form to the ground and he knew no more.

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