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    Palantir
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Paul Pulls Through. - 2. Chapter 2

Paul has another modelling session, some time at the swimming pool, then suffers some shenanigans after his shower.

Paul Pulls Through.

Chapter Two.

***

"You're early."

"Um! ...Yes, I was hoping we could finish by a quarter past nine."

Not really. Paul just wanted to see their reaction.

"Well, okay, that's all right. You help us and we'll help you. We'll stop at ten past."

A can of Cola and a two litre bottle of orange juice was brought in, along with a packet of Tim-Tams. When Paul sat on the sofa to have his drink the van guy handed him a CD.

"A copy of last week's session. Most of the pics are there but they're not high-res."

Paul was quite surprised and wondered what he was going to do with it. He'd have to hide it till he could look at it on the flat computer.

"Ready for action, Gymboy?"

"Gymboy?"

"Yeah, those exercise shots worked so well we're going to make it a feature and call you Gymboy. We've got a few props and we'll spend some time on it each session. Get the lights going Johnno."

Paul stood up, nodded when two more of the big notes were slipped in his pocket, then walked over near the mat.

"Wear the blue tracksuit, without the top."

The cameras clicked and five minutes later Paul was in the light blue running shorts with white edgings. Again? They were the gear he'd been most uncomfortable about because of their thin loose material. His thoughts must have been obvious.

"They're effective. They show you off so well we've got a couple more pairs like them."

For a couple of minutes Paul did his normal exercises but then they brought out some light bar-bells and a low padded bench, and from then on almost everything he did was directed, with both cameras going non-stop.

"Just what we want. Now try these."

At first glance they were the same. The same brand, and even the same color, but when he put them on they were at least a size smaller.

"They're too small."

"That's the whole idea."

They were so short that every time he lifted one leg or the other, it felt like he was going to flop out and lots of their directions emphasised that. They took even more photos too, and Paul felt quite uneasy when lots of them were from a very low angle. The last thing he had to wear for the Gymboy shots was a light blue jock strap. At least he was able to go back to normal exercises.

"D'you like Tim-Tam's?"

"Um! ...Yes."

In fact Paul loved anything with chocolate in it.

"Help yourself then, while we get organised."

Paul sat on the sofa, relieved that the photos had stopped. He was used to wearing jock straps since it was part of his gym uniform and he also wore them for running, but standing in front of the cameras was different. What were they doing? They had an electric kettle and a big saucepan of water and the Johnno guy had a couple of plastic guns? ...Water pistols? ...He was going to get squirted?
Paul wanted to know where the toilet was and when he came back he was handed a pair of speedos. At least he was used to changing in front of them now. Bright red, so low at the front his pubes were showing, once again too small, and he could hardly fit himself into them. He tried stretching the material but it had hardly any give.

"Stand on the mat. Hands behind your neck. Now arch up and stretch every muscle in your body, then hold."

They took about ten shots each and then he could relax.

"Now, for this series we have two different effects in each position, so each time I give a nod you rearrange yourself."

Paul looked at him blankly.

"Your dick. Its swim-wear. Some guys wear it like you, and some arrange themselves to the side. You must have seen that. Go on, we're waiting for the shots."

Embarrassed, Paul did what he was asked, then repeated the muscle stretching thing while they took more shots. Another twenty minutes of changing from pose to pose passed quickly, each time involving the different effect, as they called it, and he was soon doing the rearranging with a quick flip of his pointer finger to the side, then a tuck with his whole hand to put himself back. There was another short break for a drink and the Tim-Tams and then the whole thing happened all over with a pair of light blue speedos. At least they weren't as tight.

"Okay you're going to get wet now but the water's warm."

The break had been longer this time while the extra memory cards were offloaded into the computer. Out of a plastic bag came a white pair of speedos. God, tight fitting ones again. They weren't quite as bad, because the material was soft and stretchy, but they were low again at the front like the red ones. The water didn't start for another five minutes and then they spread a large sheet of black plastic over the mat. Sometimes he was squirted with the water pistols, sometimes splashed or dribbled on with a small jug, and a couple of times Paul had to pour it himself. It wasn't unpleasant as it had all been warmed. The bathers were soaked and he still had to do the rearranging business every few moments.

"How we going for time Johnno?"

"A quarter to nine."

"Hmm! Not quite half an hour. We better get on with the see-through."

Paul was towelling himself down at one side, watching the cleanup. See-through? That didn't sound good, and when he opened a plastic bag it was worse.

"Is this swimwear?"

"Yeah, a thong."

Did he really have to wear this thing? It didn't look like there was enough material to cover him, and where was the back? It only had a thin strap. Very quickly, because both the guys were watching, he peeled off the white speedos and pulled on the thong. It felt wrong, almost like the jockstrap. The strap at the back kind of disappeared and the front was the wrong shape.

"Not like that. It's designed to hold you upwards. Look at the picture on the package."

Oh no. So that was why the front came halfway up to his belly button. The two guys went over to the computer so Paul moved to the mat and experimented with arranging himself while they weren't there. Pushing himself down just didn't work. It lasted only till he moved and then the design somehow worked his dick upwards. The see-through business wasn't quite as bad as it sounded because though the light blue material was very thin, you couldn't really see through it.

"Let's see some exercises first."

That went for five minutes. There was five minutes of the directed posing and then the water pistol went into play. Not all over this time, just at the thong till it was soaked and then Paul discovered what they meant by see-through. The material moulded and changed its characteristics so there was nothing left to the imagination. The cameras clicked furiously as they changed him from pose to pose, front, back, and side, stretching and bending, in endless variations till they had to stop.

"We've run out of time. We'll continue this set next week."

Again Paul was hustled off with directions to turn up at 7:30 the next Tuesday. On the way home he thought it all over. Three more sessions would mean just about enough to pay off all his purchases. It was easy money. The costumes were getting ruder, but he was coping with that and they couldn't get any worse than the thong.
Tony was in the TV room when he got to Roklin and followed Paul into the kitchen when he went for a snack. What did he want? He was full on putting on the charm. In the end Paul went out with him to a nearby park. He didn't really want to, but it would keep them on good terms.

"I've got something to try. It's really good stuff."

"What sort of stuff?"

Tony pulled out a little packet which Paul instantly recognised as marijuana.

"No thanks, Tony. I'm not into that."

"Why not?"

"I'm just not. ...Is it bush or hydro?"

"What?"

"Is it bush-grown or hydroponic?"

"What's the difference?"

Typical. He didn't know anything about it.

"Hydro's a lot stronger."

"Hydro I'd say."

Paul didn't want anything to do with this, but stayed with Tony who kept trying to persuade him to take just one puff.

"Tony, I'm trying to keep fit. Putting smoke in my lungs won't help. You know that."

Paul wasn't sure if that was right for marijuana, but it sounded good and Tony nodded knowingly. They sat talking and laughing in the cool of the night, then had to rush to get in before the doors were locked.
In his room Paul stripped to his boxers and stretched on the bed, thinking. After a while he pulled the $200 out of his jeans and held it in one hand looking at it. Two weeks work at the gym and this had only taken two hours. Easy too, if you didn't let yourself get embarrassed. They wanted him three more times, three hundred for him and three hundred for sis. That would be another $600 altogether.
Was he really good enough to be a model? What sort of story would he use for sis? She'd kill him if he said he'd sold more radios.
He jumped up and looked at himself in the mirror on the inside door of his cupboard. He was fit. Alan and Mick liked it that way as it gave a good impression at the gym. They encouraged him to use the equipment and had even worked out a routine for him. He flexed a few muscles then laughed at himself for being a poser. There were enough posers at the gym without him joining in. Gosh! What did he look like in the modelling poses? He'd have to wait till Thursday afternoon at sis's flat before he could check the CD.

***

"Hey, Paul, what are you doing when we finish classes?"

"Nothing special. I might stop in the city for a look around."

"Let's go swimming."

"Swimming?"

Paul was surprised by that. Arthur was fun and friendly, but he wasn't interested in sport stuff at all.

"Yeah, I know a pool where we could hang out for a few hours."

"I haven't got any bathers."

"Neither have I. We can just use our shorts. They'll dry out quick enough."

Paul liked swimming though he didn't do much of it, and agreed straight off. It would be better than hanging round the city. He could do that tomorrow. They grabbed some food at the school canteen because it was only half the price as ordinary shops, then caught a train and a bus. Wow, the pool looked beautiful with its sparkling clear water, sprawling lawns and a few shady trees.

"Come on, I know a good possie. You can see everything."

See? What did that mean? It only cost a couple of dollars on their student concessions to get through the entrance, and Arthur lead the way to a spot near the deep end.

"See? Is there something happening?"

"Sure is! Look at that!"

For the next hour and a half Paul pretended he was getting turned on by the girls getting in and out of the pool. He and Arthur went in the water a few times, and wandered round the pool. Arthur agreed happily when Paul told him he was a perve and pointed out his selection of the best ones. He was really hot for a beautiful black haired girl with dark skin, and each time she climbed out of the pool he'd carry on about her.

"Go and speak to her."

"No way. You're not allowed to. I tried it once and she got into trouble."

That was a load of bull. Paul knew Arthur wouldn't have been game. It took twenty minutes in the sun to dry out after their last swim, and after the return bus trip, they parted ways at the railway station. What a wanker! He went to the pool every fortnight to perv at that Girls School swimming classes, mostly because of that black headed one. It was funny listening to him though.

***

At the end of his three hours gym work, Paul didn't bother with his normal shower as he decided to go to the park after tea for an hour's running. That meant not eating too much, watching telly for a while, then heading out in his running gear, his faithful pair of runners, the Nike shorts he'd got from an Op shop and a light blue T-shirt from the same place.
The park was in a great location, bordering the edge of the Yarra River. It went for kilometre after kilometre with a combined bike and walking track meandering through the large grassy areas, small clumps of trees and bush, with here and there a shelter or picnic area. It was really a whole series of parks maintained by different suburbs. Earlier in the year he used to run along the track in the dusk. Now he headed for the community oval. It wasn't as interesting, doing lap after lap, but public lighting at each end meant you could see where you were going, plus the advantage of being able to calculate the distance easily.
Yes, he was feeling good tonight. How many laps? Thirty. That was a good work out and he'd up the speed for the last four. Wow, that wrecked him and felt great at the same time.
After catching his breath from his last burst of effort, Paul set off walking back to Roklin. His muscles told him to sit down but according to Alan, a relaxed walk was much better and the half kilometre distance was ideal.
Mark was being a pain and hogging the bathroom so Paul went to the little laundry and gave his sweaty running gear a quick hand wash in a bucket of hot water then put it through the spin dryer. It only took a moment with his shorts, jockstrap, socks and shirt and when he draped them over his chair overnight they'd be practically dry by the morning. The others called him a washer-woman, but blowed if he was going to waste money at the laundromat when he could do his cleaning here for free.
Mark was still in the bathroom, having a shave now, but he let Paul in anyway. The shower was wonderful. He always felt great after a shower, and he had this theory that a hot shower was good for muscles when they'd been working hard at a run.
God damn! That idiot Mark.
Well, he'd never fall for that trick again. From now on he wasn't sharing the bathroom with any of them. No towel, no tracksuit or boxers. Nothing. Not even anyone else's towel left to use as cover. It meant he'd have to make a dash for his room, past the doorway to the TV room where they'd all be waiting. The dash went well, and he was past in a flash. He caught a glimpse of Mark looking and thought he'd got through but then the problems started. Oh No! His door was locked. He'd left it that way of course, but the keys were in his tracksuit. What would they have done with his clothes? Mark appeared in the hallway, followed by both Tony and Ray, all of them smirking.

"That's a bit rude, streaking round the place."

"Where are they?"

"Where's what?"

"My clothes. ...Or my keys."

That just got more smirks, and then they started giving suggestions, of which under the street light on the other side of the road was the worst. He wouldn't put it past them though.

"They're here in the TV room."

The other two looked at Tony as if to say he'd let them down but Paul sensed it was all a put on. How was he going to get round this? No way was he going in there naked.
Yes. He had a good idea and darted into the laundry where he remembered seeing someone's towel. Well, it was a good idea till he was in the middle of the TV room and three pairs of hands all snatched at once. Gone was the towel, not a piece of his clothing was in sight and he was trapped between the three of them. Where was Brian?
There was no time to worry because a pair of arms wrapped round and trapped his arms. Paul struggled, but to no avail. He reckoned he could have managed any two of them, but three was too many and they quickly had him helpless on his back on the carpet. If he hadn't been naked it would have just felt like mucking round, but being naked was the big feature, both for them in their way and for Paul in his.
Where the hell was Brian? He was meant to be here at this time of night.

"Grab him Mark!"

"Piss off Tony. What do you think I am? Grab him yourself."

They were all looking at Paul's dick and there was a short impasse. Paul struggled again, it might keep them distracted from any thing more drastic, but it didn't work because they had him held so securely. When he stopped struggling again, his dick became the talking point.

"What d'you reckon Ray? Has he been using it?"

"Yeah, only in his room though. That's why he keeps the door locked."

They thought that was particularly funny and Paul didn't bother pointing out that they all kept locked doors.

"What's he done to his balls? Why hasn't he got any hair on them?"

Now it was his balls being examined.

"Just because you've got hairy balls doesn't mean everyone else has."

Tony, who was holding Paul's legs, reached for an empty Coke bottle, poked it against Paul's balls and made him jerk away. That happened a few more times because they liked the reaction.

"What'll we do? Brian'll be back in a few minutes."

They nearly let him go but Tony had some sort of idea.

"Hold him and I'll be back in a sec."

Paul made a try, and nearly succeeded in escaping, but then Tony was back and he was flattened again.

"What is it?"

"You watch. This'll make him jump. You ready Paul?"

"You wait, Tony. I'll get you for this."

That didn't worry them in the least and Paul watched as the lid was screwed from a small plastic bottle. He couldn't see the labelling under Tony's fingers but he found out straight away from Mark and Ray's demands.

"Aftershave!"

Oh God no. Paul tried another struggle but had to watch as the bottle was up-ended and a stream of drops splashed against his balls. Another squeeze and the cold liquid splashed on his dick. Another squeeze, and another, and his whole groin was damp and cold from what must have been almost half the bottle. The cold only lasted a few seconds and then the chemicals started working.

"Oh hell Tony! Let me go. Quick! It's hurting!"

They did let go. There was a tone in his voice that told them they had to, then they watched as Paul grabbed at his balls and started rubbing. The rubbing didn't help. It made things worse and at the same time made him rub more. He was on his feet in a flash and racing for the bathroom and the shower. When he turned the taps off a few minutes later all his gear had mysteriously turned up in a pile just inside the door. Well, at least he didn't have to go out naked again and beg for it. He dressed in his tracksuit and T-shirt, walked towards his room and stopped in the TV room doorway.

"You three are a pack of wankers."

He gave enough of a grin to tell them they hadn't got under his skin too much. You had to be tough enough to take what you got at this place or life would be harder. Except Mark would have lost his temper, and Tony would have got everyone back somehow if it had been him. In his room, Paul had a close look. He still felt heat from the aftershave and his skin was red as.
What brand was that stuff? Fancy putting it on your face. It must only need a couple of drops. His fingers tested the red skin carefully, resting lightly on the affected parts to see if they were actually as hot as they looked. His balls were relaxed and all dangly after the exercise and two showers and he played with them gently. They really were fairly smooth. Mark was right about that. Well, he was only just seventeen. That would probably change in a few more years, though at the gym he did notice a few older guys who were still much the same.

The end of Chapter Two.

Paul has another modelling session, some time at the swimming pool, then suffers some shenanigans after his shower.
Copyright © 2014 Palantir; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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