Date: Mon, 26 Nov 2007 20:12:46 +1100
From: Andy Hillier <iarwain@aanet.com.au>
Subject: Paul's Story Chapter 5.

Usual Disclaimer: If you are not 18 years old yet do not read.
If you are offended by male to male sexual content definitely do not read.
If the laws in your state or county forbid this type of material, do not read.
Otherwise enjoy the story and genuine comments will be appreciated.

The author retains copyright (2007) to this story.  Reproducing this story
for distribution without the author's permission is a violation of that
copyright.

This story is fiction.

Thank you Nifty for the opportunity to post this story.


Paul's Story.

Chapter Five.

 * * *

"No, I don't want to."

"No?  Well hang on a minute and we'll change your mind."

Paul had never liked this bloke and the smirk he'd just been given doubled
the feeling.  It was weird enough parading himself in underwear and he
certainly didn't want to do the Gymboy section wearing only his runners and
socks.  He had expected them to want this from comments they'd made at the
last session, and he had to let them know where to stop.  Paul had a bad
feeling from that smirk though, and wondered why the van guy sounded so
confident.

"Think about a couple of these envelopes turning up at Roklin or your
sister's flat, and see if that changes your mind."

Paul took the large envelope and started opening it.  His sis's place?  How
did they know about that?  Shock followed shock as first of all he looked
through a sheet showing an application to Gaycheck with his name and false
age, half a dozen large photos of him in underwear, some photos of his
favourite nude guys and a printed sheet of text headed up as `runnerboy'.
His heart started pounding and a pang of anxiety clutched at his stomach.
They couldn't possibly have this.  Gaycheck had a privacy thing about
personal information, he'd checked that when he logged in last time, but
they even had his nick.  His mind raced through the consequences of the
Roklin guys seeing this stuff.  He'd have to go somewhere else. What would
his sis think, and when would he see her if he had to move to some suburb
miles away?  He wouldn't be able to work at the gym either.  The Roklin
guys would soon make that hell for him.  He blanked for a moment then
started when a hand fumbled at his jeans pocket.  He watched a fifty dollar
bill slipping in with the two hundreds already there.

"What are you complaining for? You watch this stuff all the time. Here,
this'll make it a bit easier.  You're our best model and we're not losing
you."

Paul felt totally trapped.  He hesitated, then moved to the bench where he
always left his clothes.  He had to take off his runners first to get out
of his jeans and boxers, then he sat down before replacing the runners and
finally removing his T-shirt.  The bright lights flashed on and it was time
to move to the mat.  Reluctantly Paul stood up and went over.  Both the
guys were watching him and Paul put his hands in front.  It wasn't
embarrassment, they'd seen him change dozens of times and he was used to
that, he just didn't like giving in to them.  The session started with the
normal warmup exercises, stretching and bending this way and that, exactly
the same as he'd done in earlier sessions, then light routines, followed by
some of the more energetic ones.  When he finished he had to start all over
again, taking its slower, sometimes even freezing in a particular position
when they wanted extra shots.  The bar bells were produced and he worked
with them for ages, standing, lying on his back, kneeling on the small gym
bench, with every exercise he could think of appropriate to his position.
Twice as long as normal they spent on the exercises and Paul was actually
starting to feel his muscles tiring a little.  They stopped for a break and
Paul pulled his boxers and jeans on.  There were the usual drinks and
chocolate Tim Tams and he ate them without saying a word.  The next session
was all posing under their control, and much easier work since they'd take
ten or more shots from different angles before directing him to change.
 On and on it went till he was functioning almost automatically, the smile
they demanded, fake as it felt, plastered on his face.  A break?  What was
the time?  Surely it must be the finish?  It wasn't, and it was after 10:30
before he left.  This last part of the evening was like the others except
they'd focused on his dick a lot more and put him in positions which made
it stand out.  Often he had to rest his hand on it or move it this way or
that when he was on his back, and finally for the last quarter hour they
had the water pistols and warm water again.  The van guy said it had been a
terrific session and they'd see him again next week. Paul just nodded,
nodded again when he was given another CD and the big envelope, then set
off in a rush as soon as he was out the door.  10:30?  That was an hour
longer than usual.  Paul jogged to Roklin, his day pack bouncing awkwardly
the whole time.  He wished he could go to the park for a longer run but the
door would soon be locked.  After a shower he went through the envelope
again, leafing through the pictures slowly and reading the sheet of text.
The text was a private conversation he'd had in the Gaycheck chat room
about four weeks ago.  How did they get all this?  He was even more puzzled
about the six nude pictures.  All of them the guys he called his
favourites.  Codex?  It was superimposed at the bottom of each of his
underwear photos.  Damn the modeling!  He hated being trapped like this.
Every piece of paper from the envelope was ripped into tiny pieces and
placed in a plastic bag.  He'd throw that into a garbage bin on the way to
school tomorrow, well away from Roklin.  Sleep came slowly as he wondered
what to do.

***

"Where is this coming from Paul?  You haven't been selling things for Ray
again?"

"No sis.  I told you I wouldn't."

He'd just given her another special letter and was ready for the
questioning.

"I worked all day Saturday at Jarrod's place building a retaining wall and
his dad paid us."

"Jarrod? Who's that?"

"He's my new friend.  He's a nice guy and I stayed at his place on Friday
night."

She had to know everything about Jarrod then, since he was a new person in
Paul's life, and she smiled at the positive description.

"Am I ever going to meet him?"

Paul jumped on that.  He hadn't been anywhere with his sis for a while and
now she'd made the opening.

"What about the day after tomorrow?  We could all go to the city gardens
and have a hamburger from the kiosk."

"The gardens?  Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I know you'll like him."

The gardens were special to them both because it was their meeting spot
when Paul had been in a foster home and sis was still at a halfway house.

She did like Jarrod when they met on Friday afternoon.  They talked about
nothing special and Jarrod was putting on the charm.  Paul and his sis both
knew it, and when Jarrod went to collect drinks she wanted to know if he
was always like that.

"I think he wants to impress you sis."

"He can impress me any time.  Has he got a girlfriend?"

"Yeah, she's another Jenny but I haven't met her yet.  Will I tell him you
think he's good-looking?"

"It won't do me any good Paul."

Wow, she really was attracted to him. Well, so was he.  They had the
especially nice hamburgers from the kiosk, and sat near the small lake
watching the swans which gathered near their seat trying to scrounge food
scraps.  They parted, his sis for wherever, he and Jarrod to go and play
squash again.  It was great fun, though he didn't have a hope of winning
because Jarrod played regularly.  Jarrod said Paul could be an ace player
if he wanted to, and Paul knew that was probably right because he was a
natural at most sports he tried. It still felt good to hear it.  They
worked out a handicap system where Paul started on five points and only
needed four to win, and that actually gave him a chance, though he
suspected Jarrod didn't always try as hard as he could.  They played longer
than they'd planned and had to run like crazy to catch the connecting bus.
They hadn't even had time to change out of their sports gear so that was
dumped first thing when they reached Jarrod's place and then they headed
for the shower.  Feeling greatly refreshed they went to the kitchen for a
snack and to find out what was happening for tea.

"Hey, Yum. I hope you like chicken casserole?  We'll cook up some peas and
mashed potatoes to go with it."

Paul loved just about any food and if it was anything like the home-cooked
lasagna from last Friday he'd feel like a pig in heaven.  They were both
starving after all the exercise and Paul watched most impressed, as Jarrod
got the food going.

"Come on. I'll show you what we're doing tomorrow morning."

Tomorrow morning?  Neat.  That meant he must be staying again.  Paul
followed to the spare bedroom which was practically empty and found they
were going to be painting.

"Painting? I don't know anything about it."

"Neither do I.  Dad'll show us what to do."

They returned to the kitchen where Jarrod turned the heat for the boiling
spuds to a low simmer.  The next priority was to get some music on, and
with that done they sat on the bed to listen.  Well that was what Paul
thought, till Jarrod dived and started wrestling.  Paul laughed and let
himself be pinned down.

"You're crazy Jarrod."

"Why?  You like wrestling."

Paul did like wrestling but it wasn't something he was used to doing with
only a towel round his waist.

"Yeah, and I know you're trying to embarrass me again.

"Stop complaining and take your treatment, wuss."

"Wuss?  ...Right, that's it."

With a burst of effort Paul toppled Jarrod, squashed him and grabbed at the
hands that had immediately started tickling.  Well, he knew what to do
about that and started his own tickle attack.  Jarrod convulsed underneath
him.  This was great, and there went Jarrod's towel.  Would he stop?  Of
course not, and now his own towel was going.  Oh boy, he'd been beating off
every night at the thought of this threatened treatment.  He eased away, in
case Jarrod didn't really want to keep wrestling, but that gave Jarrod a
chance and with a quick flurry of movement he had Paul in headlock.  Paul
made some comments about Jarrod being crazy and got his nose pulled.  His
dick was on the rise now and after he escaped from the headlock he tried to
wrestle without it having any contact.  Jarrod stopped wrestling and
laughed while he watched its progress.

"God you're fast Paul.  It has to be less than two minutes since we lost
the towels."

Paul didn't answer.  His erection at the moment was a real roarer and his
plan to put on a who cares attitude was wiped out by his blush.

"Well I don't know how to stop it, and it wouldn't be so embarrassing if
you were first for once."

"Don't worry, you'll be used to it after a few more of my shock tactics,
and anyhow I've already started.  They're like smiles aren't they?"

"Smiles?"

"You know.  When someone smiles at you, you can't help smiling as well."

That idea made Paul laugh and of course Jarrod laughed back.

"See, that proves it.  Your laugh made me laugh, and your boner started
mine."

Finished it, would be a more accurate statement, and Paul stared.

"It's big."

"Not much bigger than yours."

"It looks a lot bigger."

"Other guy's dicks nearly always look bigger than your own.  Didn't you
know that?"

"Really?  Are you sure?"

"Paul, you really haven't talked about this stuff much have you?"

That wasn't quite right, there'd been lots of conversations on Gaycheck,
but you couldn't believe what people said there.

"Um.  ...Not really."

"Come on, stand up and prove it."

Paul stood up, not quite sure what they were going to prove.  Jarrod went
to his study desk and came back with a ruler.  God, he was going to measure
their dicks?

"So?  How much bigger d'you reckon I am?"

"Um....  A centimetre?...  Two centimetres?"

"Two cm? Holy cow.  I'd look like a horse."

Paul jumped backwards.

"Hold still, while I measure."

Somehow Paul held still while his dick was handled and the measurement
taken, well mostly still, he couldn't help twitching when Jarrod squeezed
him.

"What are you doing?"

"I can't believe how hard you get.  Here, your turn."

He handed the ruler over and Paul just looked at it uncertainly.  Jarrod
waited.  Tentatively Paul put the ruler in place and took a quick
measurement.

"That's not right.  Do it again carefully."

It did come out slightly different and that meant he had to do it a third
time to check which result was the right one.

"Yikes!  I forgot the potatoes."

He rushed off leaving Paul with the ruler and proof of only half a
centimetre difference.  He was quite surprised.  He sat on the edge of the
bed not sure whether he wanted his boner to go down or not.  He didn't
really, but it would be less nerve wracking if it did, and the opposing
thoughts were fighting each other.  Jarrod was back almost as soon as he
left and straight off grabbed Paul into another headlock.  Paul struggled
and tipped them both on the bed.

"What are you doing now?"

"Wrestling, I haven't beaten you yet."

"Beat me?  You haven't got a hope.  I'm stronger."

"I know, but if you start winning I'll bend it."

It took a whole two seconds for Paul to understand what he meant.  He
didn't reply because Jarrod started wrestling.  For a few minutes Paul held
back his strength and even let himself be pinned down, but then it was time
to test the threat.  Fairly easily he turned the tables, manoeuvred Jarrod
onto his back then grabbed both his wrists and held them against the bed.
They were both laughing, their chests pressed together and Paul's body to
one side.

"See, I said you didn't have a hope.  Do you give in?"

"Yes, I give in.  I give in."

That was easy, way too easy, but Paul released him anyway and started to
sit up.  Quick as a flash Jarrod grabbed his dick.  Oh God.  Paul
automatically tried to jerk himself away and just as automatically stopped
when the grip tightened.  He tried pushing Jarrod's hands, but stopped that
too when there was even more pressure.  What to do?  He looked at Jarrod
disbelievingly.

"You're mad."

Jarrod just nodded his head and twisted his hand.  Paul moved his body to
ease the resultant pressure.  Jarrod twisted the other way and Paul
hurriedly moved again.  A couple more of the same moves set Paul laughing.
He'd never felt so ridiculous.

"When are you going to let go?"

"I'm not. You have to give in, like I did."

"All right.  I give in."

"No you don't.  You're fibbing, just like I was.  Put your hands behind
your head."

"...What for?"

"To prove you give in."

"All right.  ...Now what?"

"Kiss my butt."

Paul gawked.

"No way."

"All right.  Say mighty Jarrod is the winner."

"Mighty Jarrod is the winner .....You didn't let go?  "

"I tricked you ....Kiss my butt."

Acting stubborn, Paul shook his head and waited to see what would happen.
Jarrod started the bending thing again, making Paul move this way and
that. This continued for almost a minute but then Paul's dick decided it
liked this too much.

"All right.  All right."

With his cheeky grin working full time, Jarrod allowed Paul to position
himself, somewhat awkwardly since he was still being held, and administer
the required kiss.  Jarrod yelled and with a suitably shocked reaction
leapt away.  Somehow the kiss turned out to be a sharp pinch.  He rubbed
his butt ruefully, then grinned.

"That's a funny way to kiss."

"That's a funny way to wrestle."

Jarrod made another grab but Paul was expecting it and in a couple of
seconds had him helpless on his stomach with one armed twisted up behind
his back.

"Now who's the winner?"

"The spuds!  The spuds!  Quick.  We'd better check."

It was the right excuse at the right time so Paul let him up, then followed
to the kitchen when Jarrod told him to.

"Hey, the potatoes aren't even on the stove."

"I know.  I took them off before.  They just need a quick heat."

"Are we ever going to put any clothes on?"

"Okay.  The casserole could do with another five minute anyway."

This time Paul was given some red jocks and had to put up with Jarrod's
jokes about not fitting into them properly.  The chicken turned out as
delicious as it smelled and the potatoes weren't too bad either.  They
talked a lot, hacked round listening to Jarrod's CDs, wrestled and watched
an action DVD.  When Jarrod's folks arrived home they carted in the tins of
paint and covered everything in the spare bedroom with plastic drop sheets,
had some supper and were in bed by eleven o'clock.

"Do you reckon I'll get through Life Maths Paul?"

"For sure.  You went well in the mastery bit yesterday."

"I know. We surprised everyone didn't we?  Mum thought I was kidding.  It
takes up a lot of your time though."

"No it doesn't.  I'd only be hacking round if we weren't doing it, and it's
kind of fun anyway."

"Fun?  Putting up with me taking ages?  I can't figure you out sometimes.
You're so patient."

Paul gave him a dig in the ribs.

"No I'm not.  Anyhow, you're patient with me at squash."

"That's different, and I still can't figure you out."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you're clever as anything and I'm pretty useless.  You could pick
anyone for a friend."

"That's crazy Jarrod.  You're not useless."

"Paul, I'm not good at anything."

"Yes you are.  You're the best person I've ever known at being a friend,
and you turn everything into fun.  I don't understand how you do it."

"I don't.  It's you."

"No it's not.  Remember how you said you're impulsive?  I think it's
something to do with that."

"That's not important like being clever."

"It is to me.  You're the first proper friend I've ever had."

"Really?  ...Me too."

"I don't believe that Jarrod.  What about all those girlfriends you told me
about?"

"They weren't proper friends.  They just want to get me naked."

"Ha!  That's not hard to do.  And who says you're not clever?  You've
tricked me enough times."

"Am I really your first friend?  I don't understand that.  You could make
friends with anyone."

"I haven't really wanted to before."

"You haven't even had a girlfriend have you?"

Paul hated this question and fell back on his standard answer.

"No, I've been keeping to myself for the last few years."

"Well, you're pretty horny.  You must wank a lot."

"Horny?  You think I'm horny?"

"The way you get boners?  You must be."

"You must be too then."

"That's for sure."

"What time do we start painting tomorrow?"

"Eight o'clock.  I like it when you stay here."

"So do I.  It's my best night of the week."

Jarrod poked him in the side.

"Help, what was that for?"

"Making me feel good."

Paul poked him back and for a couple of minutes there was a friendly poking
war.

"Hey?  Do you really think I'm weird because I like being naked?"

"Not really, it's just weird to me because I'm not used to it. I'm naked in
my room sometimes at Roklin, but having someone else there at the same time
is different for me.  I think it suits your character."

"My character?  How?  "

"The way you throw everything off is impulsive."

"Are you teasing?"

"A bit, but I mean it too."

"When am I coming over to Roklin House?"

"It's nothing much."

"That doesn't matter."

"Monday's best.  Unless we wait till next Thursday.  I've got gym but you
can come in with me.  They won't mind."

"Me in a gym?  Yikes, with all those muscley guys?"

"Half of them are weak as piss.  They just look muscley."

"Guess what Paul?  We're going to the movies tomorrow afternoon."

"Aren't we playing squash?"

"We'll do both if we finish early enough.  Dad's shouting us for doing the
painting and you're the guest, so you get to choose."

The End of Chapter Five.

Author's Note.

Any comments and feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Please note my main email address - iarwain@aanet.com.au I also have a
backup address iarwain7@ains.net.au

Should you be interested, my other stories can be found by looking under
'Iarwain' in the authors section on Nifty.

Contact me if you'd like to read the stories in their original Word format.

Iarwain.