Date: Tue, 7 Apr 2015 18:35:32 +0100
From: J. Forrester <niftyencomiums@gmail.com>
Subject: The Symposium - Chapter Two

The Symposium
Chapter 02: Callum's Consultation

This story is a work of fiction. Resemblances to real persons, places or
events would be extremely surprising.


Callum had needed time to think after getting his letter. The broad brown
envelope had been exciting at first, his first post-grad interview and for
a job that would give him plenty of scope to develop what he'd
learned. Having worked his arse off, Callum was proud of his dual degree in
Physiotherapy and Physiology and Sport Science. Not to Accreditation of
Prior Learning (APL) to allow him to apply for employment in personal
training.

The letter, when he opened it was an invitation to interview for a position
at a well-to-do gym on the other side of the city. He knew it was
predominantly used by gay men and had never been shy about his sexuality
but felt the need to consider the prudence of working in an establishment
where his own sexuality could be a selling point. Or going for an interview
where he might be positively discriminated over another applicant who was
not gay.

He had applied for physio post in the NHS too, but the private sector, he
knew from the million applications he'd sent and companies he'd read about
paid better and he felt he would have more opportunities to develop his
knowledge and skills if he avoided the beurocracy of the National Health
Service. Besides, none of them had invited him for an interview and the
Symposium Athletics Club had.

Callum had heard Iain running out the door almost an hour ago, he'd be back
soon so Callum took his letter to his room where Iain would not see it. He
then tidied up a bit and stacked Iain's mail neatly on the breakfast
table. Iain had a mysterious letter too this morning and hoped his cousin
was having better luck than him at getting a job. That wasn't quite true
though, with a pang of guilt Callum hoped he's get a job first. Iain was
smart and had worked hard at his studies but Callum... Callum wanted to do
better than Iain.

Callum brushed his hubris aside and went upstairs to change – he'd go
for a cycle while he thought about his impending interview. The invitation
had been odd: shorts, so underwear, physical exam... he had the feeling he
was going to be embarrassed by the end of the day. But that would be ok, he
decided – he looked in the mirror and liked what he saw. Callum was not
arrogant or preening but he knew he was a perfect then – the kind of man
most men were jealous of but didn't dislike. He'd met the other sort, dated
a couple even – good looking Adonis's: preening, vain, painted smiles,
fake tan, false men who looked good but whose ugliness inside was like
smoke that curled around them and curdled the enviable fascia.

Iain was like himself, Callum thought. He was a lot of his cousin in
himself – the smooth, pale skin and the dense muscles of a well trained
body. The six pack, the brown nipples, the tuft of chest hair, the fair
haired arms and legs, the short blonde-ish hair. Callum was getting hard
just looking into the mirror, or was it the thought of Iain?

Callum undressed with the blinds closed, the bright sun still shone through
but he light was muted and no-one would see him naked. He decided not to
wank, the latter instructed him not to (weird!) and he wanted to get out
the house for a bit. He pulled on a vest and cycling shorts and thought
about benign things (rainbows, Scottish terriers, coke life WTF) until his
cock went down.

He was back downstairs just after Iain arrived home. He asked Iain about
his mail and hoped he wouldn't have to lie about his own.

But his cousin did ask so Callum figured a lie of omission was barely a lie
at all. "Same as you." He said. "Bank statement, in the black if you were
wondering. And that MP chap of ours is talking about getting a filter for
the traffic light at meadow road."

"Great," Iain said dryly, then quipped, "Only took a fatality to swing that
one, eh."

"Wheesht." Callum replied but smiled despite the black comedy. Iain's sense
of humour tended towards sarcasm and only just the right side of
appropriate.

"I was thinking I'd go out for a cycle along the canal, since you're just
back and the sun's out, I'm guessing you plan to strip off and sun
yourself?" Callum asked but Iain wasn't really paying attention. "I'm gonna
roast a chicken if you're gonna be here for dinner. Or do you have a better
offer?" Callum asked but Iain still wasn't paying attention.

Callum looked expectantly at Iain, who finally realised he hadn't been
paying attention. His far-away expression changed as he snapped
back. "Sorry, what?" Iain asked.

"Earth to Iain," Callum teased. "You back on planet Earth? Will you be in
for dinner? Or have you got other plans?" Callum gently mocked Iain, but
not cruelly, with a patient tone of voice.

 "Yea," Iain replied. "And also yea." Iain joked and then smiled
cordially. "You know my `other plans' evaporated when Natasha moved to
Manchester with her suspiciously intimate `friend'."

Callum caught the edge in Iain's tone but let it go. Historically that girl
was an off topic and besides, Iain would find someone else – that was
inevitable. Callum had no such confidence about his own love life. So
Callum replied neutrally, "I know. Just checking you weren't meeting up
with some of the boys."

"Like Craig?" Iain said. His response was quick fired. His fast wit
occasionally caught Callum off guard.

"Shut it!" he replied; having learned not to be defensive he avoided an
hour of persistent ridicule.

With the conversation over, Callum raced out for a bike ride. No particular
distance or destination, he just enjoyed the nice weather. By early
afternoon he'd joined Iain in the garden. No work today and Callum hoped
his part-time hours (and the rest) would be a thing of the past once he got
on the career ladder.

By late afternoon the boys were drinking, by evening they were pleasantly
relaxed. Inside, Callum's stomach occasionally churned. He was excited,
nervous, excited. His dreaming was filled with sweaty men and soft-porn
nudity – but that wasn't necessarily his apprehension about the gym
interview. Maybe the dream was just good luck.

The next couple of days passed uneventfully. On Thursday morning he heard
Iain up early but himself slept in. Then raced around the garden to get his
heart rate going a little faster, but not much. After a while he decided to
go for a walk, with his head swimming with interview answers and
question. As he walked, he listened to the kids down the street shouting
and laughing and a mum telling someone to pack it in. The sounds of summer
made him smile and gentle odours led his steps astray.  When he got back
home, Iain was still out and Callum wasn't hungry. He was actually glad he
didn't have to talk to anyone and he was afraid Iain might sense his
apprehension.

His interview was set for the afternoon, 90 minutes before time he pulled
on a short sleeve t-shirt and running shorts. Without underwear on they
felt divine – mid-thigh length with slits a little farther up he was a
little worried something would pop out. They looked no different to when
he's wear brief underneath – but he knew there was nothing there and
that made all the difference. Callum knew he could wear something else,
jogging shorts like Iain favoured but he like the feel of the short shorts
and wanted to look good. He looked great.

He's already prepared his leather satchel. His professional development
portfolio was inside, including his dissertation. He's persuaded one of the
course professors to give him a (glowing) reference. Earlier he's put a
change of clothes in the car. 30 minutes early, Callum set off and 20
minutes early he walked into the vast foyer of the Symposium Athletics
Club. His eyes followed a good looking man's arse as it entered the locker
room passed out of view. The locker room entrance was at least three times
wider than an average door. To the right he could hear the hubbub of a
coffee bar that looked onto the pool and to the left the glass lift was at
ground level. A polo-necked boy came out of a door next to the lift and
Callum was too busy checking him out to hear the question posed.

His attention snapped back when asked again: "Can I help you, sir?" The man
behind the desk was trim and had a chest of solid muscle – he looked
more like an enforcer or bounty hunter.

"I'm here for an interview." Callum said. "Three pm, Callum Carter?" he
waited while the man (whose name tag read: Raymond West) checked a list in
front of him.

Raymond smiled. "Yes of course," he said. "Please take a seat."

Callum's leg bounced nervously while he waited. His legs were crossed at
the knee and, closing the shorts from accidental spillage of their
contents. His long, beautiful legs descended into sockless trainers. Callum
tried not to think about how exhibited he felt. He tried to think like Iain
– sex sells. Iain had said that before. If you've got it, flaunt
it. Iain had said that too. Callum had it, he knew.

"Mr Carter?" a tall bald man asked. "I'm Mr Douglas."

Callum uncrossed his legs and stood as Mr Douglas extended his hand. "A
pleasure to meet you."

"Can I call you Callum?" he asked. The man was striking: probably the north
end of forty, probably more. His head was shaved, with only the faintest
hint of blonde remaining so that Callum guessed a receding hairline or
unsightly bald spot. But it suited the man. He was fit too; slim and
athletic.

Callum was about to reply "You can call me anything you like." But thought
it sounded flirtatious so instead said, "Yes. Callum would be fine, Mr
Douglas."

"Let's go to one of the training rooms, shall we?" Mr Douglas said.

Mr Douglas led Callum to the door next to the lift and held it open for
him. The corridor beyond was long with doors on both sides. Callum was led
to the first on the left, which made it behind the glass lift. The only
glass in this room however was the window facing the outside world and the
wall facing the corridor – both sets were closed, but the sun outside
made the room bright without the need for lights in the room.

The room was big enough for 1:1 training sessions. Just now there were
three men in addition to Callum and Mr Douglas.

"Callum, this is Doctor Ledger, physiotherapist Simon Wright and personal
trainer Findlay McKellan." Mr Douglas introduced him to the other
men. "Gentlemen, this is Callum."

Callum was asked to sit opposite a slim table facing the rear wall, the
four men sat on the other side. Behind him now there was still enough space
to swing a cat, instead two exercise bikes were stationed.

"Well now. Shall we begin?" Mr Douglas asked.

For nearly half an hour Callum answered questions and discussed practice,
Simon had been called away but the interview continued without him.

"You understand that the original vacancy was for a personal trainer. With
your additional qualification, you might be over qualified. Why should we
consider you?" Mr Douglas asked his final question.

"I think there is a difference between being over qualified and having
additional knowledge and skill that would enhance one's ability to
perform." Callum answered without hesitation. "I know I would be a valuable
member of your team if you give me the chance. If there's anything I can't
do, I'll learn and I'm a fast study."

Callum had relaxed, both feet now flat on the floor, legs slightly
spread. He became aware of his posture and did not correct it. Open body
language and sex. He realised how much he wanted this job, he liked the
people he'd met, even Mr Douglas who at first seemed impenetrable and
severe. Mr Douglas was not that, Callum wasn't sure who he was. At any
rate, he knew better than to abuse the clique but he'd do anything.

Mr Douglas gave the doctor a nod.

"Would you stand up and take off your shirt and shoes please?" Doctor
Ledger said.

Callum was nearly caught off guard. Surprised by how quickly he could be
stripped of his dignity. He stood and toed off the trainers then lifted his
shirt to expose his flat stomach and underwear model abs. The doctor took
some measurements and felt his muscles, examined a mole on his back and he
checked Callum's balance. The doctor stood close while he checked Callum's
pupil responses, holding the torch in his right hand the doctor's left hand
dangled at his side. It swung forward to brush Callum's thigh. He gasped
but realised this was something he had been waiting for? Well, perhaps not
waiting for but half-expected it.

Callum's cock responded quite favourably to the faint touch. In his tiny
shorts, Callum's penis grew. The head of his cock brushed the soft inside
of the material. The doctor's touch grazed his scrotum. Callum's cock
thickened and continued to lengthen until it crept out the bottom of the
shorts.

This was when the doctor's fingers first touched Callum's penis.

Callum suppressed a moan. The doctor finished his exam however and stepped
away, leaving the whole room looking at his penis poking out of the shorts.

Finn smiled and moved forward. "We'd like to try a time trial, if that's
alright. It'll be up to you to motivate me to complete 5 miles in fifteen
minutes."

Callum smiled back but was reticent, his professional brain switching
on. "That's ambitious unless you're a seriously serious cyclist." He said
diplomatically.

"I'm not a beginner." Finn said. "Motivate me Callum. Motivate me." He
pointed to the two cycling machines at the back of the room.

Callum followed Finn to the back of the after slipping on his trainers. The
man had dark good looks and dressed in a navy polo neck t-shirt and navy
shorts (not quite as short as Callum's) he was rather dishy.

Callum's penis had retracted slightly. He climbed onto the bike to Finn's
right. They both faced Mr Douglas and doctor Ledger who were whispering to
one another. They set a five mile target and began. Over the following
minutes, Callum encouraged Finn to increase his speed to 20 mph and
maintain it.  He challenged Finn to beat his speed and then to overtake his
distance. They were very close, with Finn a little ahead on distance when
he started slowing. They were close, but not close enough to stop just yet.

"Keep going." Callum told him. "You set a target, you make that target!"

"I want to make you a wager." He replied. They were both breathless and
sweaty.

Callum's sweat on his brow and his chest and his back descended to his
treasure trail and then his navel. It had wet the top of his shorts,
turning them wet and shiny and his pubes showed though. Finn too was
sweating but his navy clothes simply darkened a little – nothing showed
through.

"Go on then." Callum prompted.

"Target is 5 miles and we only have a few minutes left. Loser gives the
winner a reward." He said mischeviously. "How about a tongue bath?"

"What?" Callum said. "Here? I mean... in front of..." he nodded to the two
content men watching them.

"Here and now – in front of them, champ." Finn said. "You wanna be in
our club? Prove it."

Callum thought for a second, took mental bravery pills then replied,
"Deal."

He must've been out of his mind! Finn immediately accelerated and won by
half a minute. Callum finished though. And in less than 15 minutes – he
made this point to Finn.

"Yea, you were a real motivating force." Finn said. "You've got a silver
tongue." There was a fraction of a second pause before he said the last
word.

Callum's cock stirred again. He stepped towards Finn who had moved to perch
his bum on the desk. Mr Douglass and the doctor did not seem to mind, their
eyes were still predominantly on Callum. Callum unbuttoned Finn's polo
shirt – of the three, only the lower two were fastened anyway. His hands
gripped the hem of the top and lifted.

Finn had a hairy chest, the kind that even blokes who don't like hairy
chest enjoy – it was masculine and damp with sweat and matched the beard
that covered his lantern jaw and came back into view as the shirt came off
over his head.

Finn pulled himself upright so he was pressed close to Callum, whose cock
was returning to full arousal. Finn touched through the shorts and then
leaned in to kiss Callum's lips. Callum couldn't help closing his eyes as
their tongues danced. Parting, Finn moved his hands to Callum's hips and
pushed the shorts down.

Callum felt the shorts around his ankles.

"Step out of them then." Finn instructed.

Callum did and Finn kicked them across the room. Callum felt vulnerable in
just his trainers but achingly aroused also.

"A profile picture if you don't mind." Said the doctor, handing a camera to
Finn.

It wasn't really a question and Callum was now too dazed to argue. More
pictures than was necessary were taken and Callum felt faintly embarrassed
that his `profile picture' was being taken while he was stark bullock
naked. He didn't argue though.

Returning the camera to the other side of the desk, Finn stepped around
Callum and moved a few feet from the desk then turned in profile to it. He
kicked off his shoes and dropped his shorts. The thatch of dark hair on his
lower legs continued up his thighs and into a pair of bulging navy briefs.

"Bath time?" he said or asked, either way Callum was ready.

Callum's tongue explored Finn's arms and collar bone, paying particular
attention to Finn's neck when the man made a low moan – an erogenous
zone Callum would remember for another time he hoped. Callum was very aware
of his hard cock sticking straight out and occasionally poking Finn's
brief-clad organ.

The man lifted his arm to reveal his arm pit, but made no especial
declaration concerning attention to be made though. Smelly pit attention
was a little weird, Callum thought and hoped Finn was making tacit
agreement when he dropped his arms.

Callum licked the man's chest and sucked his nipples. These too elicited
signs of pleasure that Callum was happy to prolong.

"Oh fuck!" Finn said.

Part of the tease of course involved stopping, so Callum did –
withdrawing his attention and instead gliding his tongue down from between
Finn's clavicles to the centre of his chest, past the xiphosternum and
though the thatch of Finn's happy trail. Indeed, Finn seemed
delighted. Callum moved around Finn and repeated the process in reverse,
licking up Finn's spine then back down again.

Callum's tongue did not get the chance to tire or dry out, there was
copious sweat that tasted simultaneously salty and sweet. Callum liked the
back of Finn's calves then returned to the front. He kissed the top of
Finn's feet then ran his tongue up each let to the knee. He was getting
close to what he wanted most. He didn't v remember there were other people
in the room now. He didn't care he was being watched. He wanted Finn's cock
in his mouth. He wanted to bury his face in the man's crotch. He wanted...

The door opened. "I think you'll find there's no such thing as a room out
of bounds to me." Said the incomer.

Callum was naked and on his knees, arse towards the door – arse toward
the client who had just entered and the white adorned towel boy
(technically the club called them athletic assistants) trying to appease
him. Callum's tongue was freshly off Finn's slick thigh and his cock was
hard, though by grace that would not be seen from the doorway.

"Ah, Mr Mendel," Mr Douglas called out. "I'm afraid this is an interview
room today and you are going to be late for the classes I scheduled for
you. I know you were keen to trying out the sauna room." Mr Douglas had
crossed the room and all but pushed the man out.

Mr Mendel looked ready to protest – he was perhaps keen to watch what
was going on. The boy behind him was, the boy behind Mr Mendel was an
adorable sandy haired boy. "I..." Mr Mendel began.

"I really must insist." Mr Douglas said, smiling but unequivocal.

Mr Mendel stepped out and Mr Douglas closed the door.

"Continue." Mr Douglas said.

Callum turned back to Finn's bulge and buried his nose into the groin, his
tongue tasted the edge of Finn's scrotum which was exposed by the gap in
his briefs as his cock pushed the legs and waist open. Callum heard a soft
sliding noise but had other things on his mind. He registered Mr Douglas
coming to sit on the desk to watch more closely.

Callum's hands gripped the briefs and pulled them down. His hands lingered
on the bare buttocks before pulling the briefs all the way to the
floor. Callum's tongue licked Finn's balls: underneath and around the side,
sliding into the crotch and back underneath. His tongue liked the long
under shaft of Finn's uncut cock.

"Do it." Whispered Finn.

Callum slid his lips over the head of Cambell's cock. His mouth was well
lubricated and in impaling his face on Finn's penis, made the whole organ
slimy and sleek. Finn put his hands on Callum's head but did not push.

Callum sucked and licked and swirled his tongue around Finn's big thick
dick.

"I'm gonna cum." He gasped. A polite warning for the deluge that soon
followed.

Callum did well to not make a mess of the floor, but at least it was not
carpet and so would be easy to mop up stray drops of cum.

"Best tongue bath ever." Finn said as he bent down to pull the briefs back
up over his penis.

Not yet soft, his cock filled the briefs nicely.

"Stand up, Callum." Mr Douglas said.

Finn pulled on his t-shirt and shorts and faced Callum again.

"I'm going to tell you something." Mr Douglas said. He pointed up, "We've
been recording this interview." Callum noticed the thing that was not a
smoke detector – well, it might be that too but it was defiantly a
camera. "I want you to start wanking. And I do not want you to cum today."

A choice then, Callum realised. Was he committed to this club, to its
people and its purpose and its practice? Callum stroked his cock which
hadn't been soft since his briefs had been removed. His cock ached for
release, bit that was perhaps the point – compliance and self-control,
pleasure without release. He edged for five minutes before stopping his
aching hand and resting his aching cock.

Mr Douglas, the doctor and Finn were rather pleased. Finn's finger pointed
so Callum's eye's were drawn to the wall, the long glass wall that's blinds
had been opened. Several men and boys, both patrons and employees were also
pleased. They moved on as Finn handed Callum his shorts to put back on.

"I would like you to come back tomorrow for a follow-up interview. Hush
hush about us until then of course." Mr Douglas said.

"I... I don't have the job?" Callum asked, sure he'd have sucked Finn off
anyway but having sold his sex he'd hoped he'd got a job out of it.

"You have." Mr Douglas said. "But let's say you haven't until you pass the
final test tomorrow?"

"Ok." Callum said.

"It's a warm day. No need for that t-shirt going back out, yes?" Mr Douglas
promoted.

Callum looked down at himself. The sweat streaked torso and the sweat
soaked shorts. The tiny shorts reeling the top of his pubes and barely
containing a cock that hadn't quite gone down.

"No need." Callum agreed. The correct answer!

"Please don't masturbate tonight." Doctor Ledger said. "We need a sample
and I think we're out of time." He smiled gently.

"No problem." Callum said. Again, the right answer.

Mr Douglas opened the door for him and instructed the pretty sandy haired
towel boy to show him out. Callum passed down the corridor behind the boy,
eighteen Callum hoped, and back into the main foyer. Exiting the corridor
he glanced left. He could see the locker room and noticed its design flaw
even more from here. Standing at the row of benches or lockers nearest the
entrance posed a great risk of exposure to the entire foyer. He could see
men being very cautious about standing there, most moved several meters
into the locker room to avoid the anti-blindspot.

Callum crossed the vast foyer, attracting much attention in his tiny shorts
but enjoying it. He was starting to enjoy it. Career - great, getting paid
to work with hot men – fantastic, the admiration and attention of said
men – priceless.

Callum crossed the car park and tossed his bag into the back seat. He
didn't put on a t-shirt, he drove home feeling the wind rush in the window
and the air conditioning blow-drying his balls through the shorts.

"I want those boys." Mr Douglas told doctor Ledger and Finn as he watched
Callum's car pull out of the care park.

"I want them too." Finn agreed.

The doctor added his ascent, though he knew his time with them was all but
over.

"I want them together tomorrow afternoon." Mr Douglas told Finn. "Call them
- 2pm tomorrow." He seemed to be thinking. "Let's see how far they'll
go. Let's tell them..." he laughed softly to himself before turning to face
Finn. "Tell them something, anything."

"I'll make something up." Finn said confidently and nonchalantly.

"I'd like to see how identical they are. Let's give them both jobs but make
them earn it." Mr Douglas said, his own cock was hardening inside his suit
trousers.

Finn notice and brushed his hand across the front of Mr Douglas's trousers,
though the Doctor didn't notice. The older man appreciated Finn's insight –
Finn knew Mr Douglas could get obsessive. Indeed, he had been obsessive
about Findlay once; that relationship had evolved now.

And now, he felt an obsession grow for the Carter boys. Mr Douglas fired
out his mental wish list in short sentences: "I want one of them on his
knees in front of his mirror image. I want to film them. I want to watch
them cum on each other. One day I want to watch them fuck. I want those
pretty boys, gentlemen!"

Finn waited for a beat to undercut the moment, "I want a sandwich."



If you would like to write to me, messages are appreciated:
niftyencomiums@gmail.com

Also, Nifty is free at the point of access but needs your donations to keep
us entertained.

Why not donate at - http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html