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Can The Unforeseen Become An Unforeseen Opportunity.
Where the swirl of a kilt can close a deal.
I am in my final year as an apprentice engineer with a prestigious defence company working in their applied physics department and I am also in the last year of my college academic studies. For next year I am trying to win a scholarship from my company for a University degree in engineering physics of materials. I am a bit of a maths buff and love doing maths that surround the physics of molecular fission, that’s why I chose my subjects. It’s what I am good at and complements my questionable social skills as I am a bit geekish.
Without a scholarship I would find it difficult to fund my University studies. My parents are all for me going to University, like my older sister Shona who is currently studying Graphic Art at University. Although both my parents are working they struggle financially each month to make ends meet, my salary helps but would be lost if I went to University without a scholarship.
My name is Hamish, I have short red spikey type hair, like the fun loving cartoon character, and blue eyes, five foot eight, a bit over weight, I drink too much beer and eat too many burgers and pizzas. Not very outwardly going, always dreaming about what I would like to do and where I would like to go.
The project I am working on is a design concept proposal for a new generation Nuclear Steam Raising Plant, NSRP, for an impending submarine build program, for a foreign client. Although I am still a junior design engineer I have been given the job to do the initial mathematical design model surrounding the physics of molecular fission of the reactor. Normally they would give this job to a senior design architect but they are all tied up on a problem with a current reactor operation.
Although doing almost one hundred thousand interconnecting calculation, even on a computer is quite daunting, I really enjoyed doing it. Three weeks of work and it was completed, the estimators could now work out how much it would cost to make. The marketing and tender engineers could now also do their bit. The head design architect had checked and approved my design it in concept form. I was now back on more day to day projects and my college work at nights.
It was during this tendering project that I met Peter who was a retired naval nuclear attack submarine Captain, now retired and working for industry. Normally I would not interface directly with someone so senior but they were shorthanded. Peter by reputation was difficult and uncompromising to work with, as the Captain of a submarine costing over a 100 billion he was used to getting his own way always, his word was law and was always correct irrespective.
I was the total opposite unsure of myself, seeking confirmation that what I had done was correct, we got along remarkably well and he knew his nuclear physics and could challenge me and add too what I said or proposed constructively. I was assigned to his tender team full time until the tender was submitted, working out of their plush Marketing suit. During this time I was introduced to a number of company Directors, being noticed would help with my application for a University scholarship.
A month later I was back in my open plan office, which badly needed new furniture and a lick of paint, working on more mundane but still interesting jobs. During this time I was doing my cramming for my final college exams, Peter as a way of saying thanks for helping out with the now submitted tender. I could use his tender authors to prepare and professionally present my final exam dissertation, every mark counts when you are looking for a scholarship.
The week after my final exam’s I was back in the office, but with very little work to do, the company was a bit short of work, there was also talk of layoffs. When Peter came in and asked me could I look at some calculations unofficially and handed over three flash drives. All marked Secret. I said yes, the secret bit whetted my curiosity.
There was a problem with a reactor spiking on a submarine that was currently at sea on patrol. Others in the company design team were looking at it, but he also wanted me to look at the calculations from a forensic standpoint. This meant I had to do manual checking of over 10,000 calculation formula. To a geek this was mathematical heaven. I worked every night to about ten at night, including weekends, for almost ten days.
I found out what was wrong, nothing with the reactor but the computer calculation formula contained an embedded error, simply put the computer formula took a single trace element reading and squared the number instead of taking the square root of it before applying it to a subsequent calculation. Creating, from a super compounding error, an apparent spike in a single reactor trace element reading which could imply the reactivity was about to potentially fall out of balance. Not a good thing. To find this error I had to go through and recalculate the complete Lara Travesti reactor physics manually with a slide ruler, that’s what geeks do question Status Que.
I phoned Peter to tell him I may have an answer, five minutes later with my calculation log book’s I was in his office, door closed explaining what I found. He instantly understood what I said, apparently he had started out as a submarine reactor engineer.
The following day I was sent down to explain what I found to the senior engineer for nuclear submarines, a Dr De’ath, apparently a French name but to me he was always Dr Death, he was also an incredibly subdued and likable person. My calculation log book’s were retained and I was reminded that I couldn’t tell anyone about my findings including my employer. They would be notified through official channels. Sort of James Bond stuff.
A few weeks passed the senior design architect’s became free and took an interest in my concept design calculations for the companies new generation of NSRP. Apart from a few questions I was kept on the fringe of developments, very frustrating but that’s an apprentices life.
Out of the blue I received a call from Peter’s secretary could I go to a sales meeting tomorrow as a technical assistant to Peter. Although I had been accepted by the University for my chosen course, an endorsement from the head of Nuclear Engineering for the Government seriously helped me. However, the decision on my company’s financial University sponsorship had not yet been made. Me going to University all hinged around that, I said I would go, I was told to report to the marketing suit in the morning and as I would be away for three or four days so pack a case.
I arrived at marketing with my borrowed suite case in hand the next day. Waiting for me was three large sealed blue plastic boxes full of tender documents and a driver to take me to an exclusive venue, the Eucalyptus Club & Spa, about an hour and a half away. But that wasn’t all, I was given a kilt to wear, a marketing thing, its pattern was designed uniquely for submariners, dark green representing the sea, navy blue, and yellow to represent the coveted golden dolphins badge worn by all qualified submariners. I looked good wearing it, I must admit I did get a bit of a kick out of wearing it, particularly getting in and out of the car.
When we arrived Peter was already their wearing his kilt with his naval uniform and Captains gold braid, he really looked the part, we set up the conference room ready for our foreign guests. My instructions from Peter were simple, I would fetch and carry documents over to the conference table, unless he invited me to explain something. At coffee breaks pointless chit chat was allowed and encouraged, I was to pour the coffee too. Ok I can do that.
It was my first time at a sales conference but I felt relaxed about what I had to do, only thing I was a bit concerned about was. The kilt I was wearing was of a lightweight type, nice to wear but if you turned too fast it would swing out and up. Gave you a bit of a kinky feeling, Peter had flippantly commented that I was taking the corners to fast, but we will keep that as an option if all else fails if they don’t accept his sales pitch. Interesting didn’t expect that.
Our three guests all arrived in their Naval Uniforms each senior person had their own personal assistant. The structure of the meeting was very higher article, I or one of the other assistants would fetch and carry as instructed or requested. I took all my corners at a discreet pace and should something fall on the floor pick it up carefully. Two out of the three assistants from time to time, each, dropped something on the floor having to put their heads under the conference table while retrieving it. Became a bit of a game retaining ones modesty by discreet body movements, it was a bit of below the table fun, enjoyed by all.
On the first day I verbally contributed to the proceedings for about fifteen minutes. At exactly five the meeting was suspended and the principles all retired for drinks. The assistants tided up and locked away all their principal’s confidential documents. Navy protocol said we weren’t allowed to partake of alcohol until we were invited to do so by our principals.
However while waiting for an invite they were intrigued by my kilt, including the accidental dropping of paper clips on the floor. But I wasn’t going to be drawn on it, became a bit of a game of innuendo and parrying off, of suggestive questions. However, my answer to what was kept in my purse, sporran, was possibly the start of a legend to be passed down from Ward Room to Ward Room. We were then all invited to join our principal’s for the formal evening meal.
The meal was excellent the naval banter too although most of it above my comprehension, I didn’t partake of alcohol other than a small glass of wine with the meal. As a college student I had had a number of alcohol induced embarrassing moments, during and waking up in the morning. Peter was in his element with Manavgat travesti his antidotes on Naval life, I think he must have had hollow legs given the amount of alcohol he consumed without noticeable affect.
The evening festivities were finished and we were all retiring to our respective rooms, each were mini twin bedroomed luxury apartments in their own right which we would share. The wine I had must have been quite strong I could feel my kilt was starting to loosely swing as I went up the stairs. As we climbed the stairs to our floor Peter thanked me for what I had done today particularly at such short notice. When we got to the apartment Peter handed me a nightcap, a very cloudy pink gin from the apartment bar, first time I had tried pink gin, didn’t really like its taste but drank it out of courtesy.
The following morning I awoke disorientated and stark naked in my bed, no clothes in sight and when I went to sit up felt quite nauseous. Later when I tried to sit up in bed my muscles seemed to have seized up and developed a mind all of their own, after I finally stood up my butt ached like crazy as did other more forward facing parts of my anatomy. I must have fallen last night or something I had a habit of doing that when I drank too much, so this morning experience was not completely new to me. Peter was standing at the bedroom door with one of those complimentary fluffy hotel white dressing gowns on looking at my antics.
He asked me if I was ok, no ill effects from last night, I said no but I think I will have a shower to freshen up. He said try the whirlpool bath it seems to work for him. I couldn’t find any dressing gown or anything to put on so padded bare footed and naked into the large bath and walk in shower room. Each step I took my butt sharply reminded me it was there and with each step I was slowing down.
I had had these predicaments before at college student house parties, waking up naked, sometimes alone or sharing a bed with someone, or more than one some were complete strangers to me. The life and times of a student. I had learnt finding oneself in such a predicament best to just walk naked to the bathroom and get organised and that’s what I just had done. Onwards and upwards.
Peter was right the whirlpool bath looked inviting, filled it with hot water poured in one of the hotel’s bubble baths bottles. I couldn’t work out the controls in my disoriented state so climbed in, lowering myself into the water was a slow painful experience.
During this process I must have leaned on some of the controls as it suddenly jumped into life. The soap instantly turned into frothing foam, I must have sat or at least tried to sit down on one of the water jets, its water jet hit me right where I was hurting. Talk about instant relief, I paused and hovered above the water jet, Peter was certainly right about the restorative effects of the whirlpool bath. It did bring a soothing smile to my face.
As I sat there almost completely immersed in soap suds Peter came in, hung up his dressing gown and walked into the large shower with its steamed up glass screen. I could clearly see Peters outline showering, for someone in their sixties he was remarkably muscular and in good shape. I decided that I better do something about getting my body in better trim. Trim would do to start with.
While watching Peter I had one of those flashbacks you get when the effects of alcohol abates. We were in the apartment lounge area and Peter was helping me unbutton my shirt, I was watching him in a sort of blurred vision, I had a glass or something in my hand, no a plastic bottle. I must have had more to drink last night than I thought, one of my not so social habits.
As I lay back in the warm soothing water, closing my eyes I had other flashback’s with me standing there without my shirt on and Peter helping me unbuckling my kilt buckles which were very tight. Then helping me into bed, it was all very bitty and disoriented, I could also see his face looking at me as he lent over me. He didn’t have a shirt on either and I handed him the plastic bottle I was holding.
Peter spoke to me, bringing me out of my trance, as he stood alongside me drying himself, suggesting we meet up with our guests down at the pool, I would find company logoed swimwear in my case along with a matching tracksuit top. I said ok as I stood up covered in foam, with soap suds dripping off me I must have looked like one of those cartoon characters as I headed to the shower. We both headed down to the pool area with Peter outlining how he thought the day would go.
When we arrived at the pool Peter and his opposite number’s headed off into a corner to talk about something. I went with Carl and Steve the two junior assistants who kept looking under the table yesterday for paper clips. We all went to a small sauna cabin to get rid of any alcohol left in our systems from the previous night.
As we enjoyed watching the residual alcohol sweat out of us, Steve asked could he wear my kilt sometime, it was something Side travesti he always wanted to try. I said sure why not. He then asked how things went last night after we all separated. I explained, given my track record and although I was trying to avoid alcohol I must have had too much to drink, as when I woke up in the morning I couldn’t remember anything. I explained what happened including the flashbacks.
They looked at each other knowingly about something that I should know about, they were only a couple of years older than me and were on the same youthful wavelength. I looked at them and said. Ok What?
Carl answered, you drank very little last night, but, I think the pink gin Peter gave you may have been laced with ketamine or rohypnol or something similar. I was totally lost and asked what on earth is that? Steve answered date enhancement drugs now that I had heard off and then added Peter has a bit of a reputation. Instantly all the flashbacks and other things started to add up.
Steve and Carl apologised for dropping this on me and added it’s the price you have to pay if you want to get ahead quickly, then added as we were both gay anyway it wasn’t a big deal for them. Carl said we will leave you to think about what you want to do but remember like you we don’t have the contacts to leap ahead of the herd.
Mathematics trains you how to analysis things comprehensively and quickly and it was something that I was very good at. If I said anything back at the company they would close ranks on me, Peter was very well connected socially as well as professionally and was a very senior Naval Captain with an impeccable record. I was a final year apprentice with a questionable pass regarding alcohol, looking for a university sponsorship and expendable. Also if we didn’t win this order quite a few other people would be let go, as any political scandal could cause this requirement to be dropped.
I was drawn out of my train of thought when Peter knocked the cabin window, they were finished talking and we were going up stairs to get ready for round two of the meeting. On the way up I could detect that Peter was very upbeat about how discussions were going. It was then that I knew what to do and how.
We were both in the shower area starting to get undressed, I slipped off my swim shorts. One good thing about being a twenty year old you can most times summons an erection on command, that’s what I did, turned and faced Peter invitingly as he pulled down his swim shorts, then walked into the shower. I placed my hands on the wall with my back to him invitingly, with the warm water running erotically down my back. Peter came up behind me, placed his hands firmly on my hips, I could feel him start to stroke me between my buttocks with his erection as his choice of foreplay.
This was my first time knowingly and actively participating in what was happening. What’s more I was actually enjoying the thrill of it. It was then that Peter started to take the dominant lead but I was also in control. Not just a convenient passive recipient. Although I may not have knowingly taken part before, I like so many others had learned by watching what to do on the internet. I may have been inexperienced but I was now actively participating and learning.
We continued as Peter became more engrossed as the thrill of the chase was reaching a climax, I could feel it in his motions which I was replicating as I reached a euphoric excitement too. Something that was completely new to me in this way. Then it happened, as we stood there together both frozen at the moment of climax. Peter then started to rub my side in appreciation with his hands down onto my hips and round to my buttocks then extending his fingers inwards. We slowly parted and I turn to face him, I could see a smile of satisfaction on his face, I had met his expectations. I relaxed as the water washed away any traces of what had just happened between us.
When I was getting dressed in my kilt and new white uniform shirt complete with navy blue shoulder flashes I slackened the kilt straps this time, so that it hung more loosely on me and swung more freely as I moved. This kilt did not have a kilt pin to hold it in place, Peter’s had a golden dolphin pin, I was not a qualified submariner so my kilt had a hidden stud that would stop the kilt’s front skirt from swinging more freely open. I left this unfastened.
When I went out from my bedroom to join Peter before going downstairs together, I allowed the slow movement of my kilt to be quite invitingly seductive and noticeable. How did I know how to do this, my sister Shona showed me the first time I wore a kilt to the Scouts. That time I was terrified I would flash inappropriately, this time I knew what I wanted to do and why. When we went downstairs to reconvene the meeting Peter had an extra spring in his step as I did.
We joined the meeting, Carl and Steve looked at me inquisitively, I smiled in return, they visibly relaxed and sat down. This time I was to take the lead explaining the mathematics of this new generation reactor. With my kilt jinglingly on me as I moved about, seductively enhancing my confidence, I answered their questions confidently and without hesitation. It was my field and knew it intimately what and how it all came together as an NSRP.
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