AJ Goes to Art School
Chapter 1
AJ Kingsley couldn't quite remember why he'd agreed to do this.
He meandered down an unfamiliar hallway in search of the office he knew he needed to reach, all the while trying to remember exactly why he needed to reach it. What he could remember is that he'd agreed to do something here... Yesterday, he thought. Or was it the day before that? It was all a bit foggy, more like a half-remembered dream than a proper memory.
Either way, he could at least remember the situation: he'd just finished up showering at the campus gym when a stranger had waltzed right up to him and struck up a conversation, standing directly in AJ's way so as to block any easy path back to his locker.
AJ recalled that the guy was well-dressed: suit jacket, tie, and a flamboyant floral pattern on his shirt that certainly made his outfit hard to forget. He could remember the guy was short and middle-aged and had well-coiffed silver hair.
Right away, the guy's look had given AJ the impression that he had to be either a fag or foreigner -- maybe both. But it also gave AJ a creeping feeling that this guy didn't quite belong here. Setting aside the strangeness of a silver-haired middle aged man in a gym normally frequented by no one over the age of 25, why was he walking towards the showers dressed like that? The guy didn't seem to have a bag with him -- no change of clothes in sight. Why had he even been in the locker room in the first place?
And his eyes, they had been... what colour? There had been something... distinct about them. But what? AJ remembered the man had definitely made eye contact for their whole conversation. There was something piercing about his gaze. But he couldn't quite remember what this man's eyes had actually looked like.
And something about his voice... It had been somehow calming and authoritative at the same time. It was smooth and... hypnotic? Yes, that was the word for it: his voice had been hypnotic.
AJ remembered talking to the older man for quite a while. Well, he remembered time flying by, but he knew it must have been for quite a while because, when he left, he found he was somehow over an hour late for his afternoon class.
He remembered feeling uncomfortable all the while during their conversation, given that he was only covered up with a very small towel (had he grabbed a face cloth by mistake?) while talking to an expertly dressed stranger. Sure, AJ knew he was fit (the amount of time he'd spent in the gym over the last couple years had certainly not been spent in vain), but he most certainly was not a guy who did the "naked" thing, always sporting baggy board shorts on the beach (if not a sleeveless top, too), carefully wrapping towels around his waist in the locker room, and wearing pyjama pants around the house even on the warmest of summer days.
He knew Jessica used to find it funny how insistent AJ had been about keeping covered. Even after they'd fuck, AJ would have to put his boxers on (more often, full pyjama pants and a t-shirt, too) before he could fall asleep.
Jessica, being rather free with her body, never quite understood AJ's extreme modesty, musing (as psychology majors are apt to do) that it must have stemmed from AJ being a late-bloomer. What she'd gleaned from what little he said about his adolescence told her that AJ had started high school as a short, skinny, and scrawny boy of 14 and very, very slowly had metamorphosed into the tall, powerful, mountain of a man he was today at 22.
So, it came as no surprise that AJ remembered feeling very uncomfortable standing with no more cover than a face cloth could provide while having what must have been a lengthy and involved conversation with this strange man. Yet, though AJ could remember the man and remember having a conversation, he could not quite remember exactly what their conversation had been about.
Only one detail stood out in his mind: he needed -- and this was an absolute imperative -- to be at the stranger's office for 5:00PM today. Hence, he found himself now wandering the tight, narrow, and byzantine corridors of the Visual Arts Building in a persistent search for room 127.
That was not something he had written down or programmed into his phone. Somehow, AJ had just woken up today knowing that he needed to be in exactly that room at exactly that time today. The precision of this recollection was out of character for AJ since, at least while he and Jessica had still been together, it seemed that the only way he could ever keep an appointment was if she reminded him. The fact that he had woken up with tonight's appointment in his mind -- finding that it did not leave his thoughts for one moment all day -- struck AJ as unusual, to say the least.
Even more unusual, AJ had even worked a buffer into his schedule. Being wholly unfamiliar with not only the Visual Arts Building, but the whole section of campus on which it sat, AJ gave himself an extra 15 minutes to find both the building and room 127 so as to still arrive at exactly 5:00.
Since he was a sports science major, AJ had never had any reason to explore the old -- or so-called "historic" -- part of campus. Although he definitely remembered seeing some signs of construction down in the old quarter last year, it seemed that the Department of Visual Arts had not benefitted from anything new.
Being there now, AJ did not find himself wondering why he had never been there before. Not only was the building itself a musty relic from another time, but AJ had always appreciated how the school quarantined its eggheads and its queers far from where he spent his time. Safely tucked away on another part of campus, the "historic" section appealed to those who sought it out, but certainly not to a meathead like AJ.
In light of this fact, AJ found himself wondering yet again what the stranger could possibly have said to persuade to come here. Still, his vain attempts at recalling the particulars of his conversation with the stranger in question came to a halt when he reached the office he knew he needed to be at. The plaque on the door read: Room 127 Sebastian Schwartz Chair - Department of Visual Arts
"Schwartz"... That sounded familiar... Yes, he was here to see Prof. Schwartz.
AJ rapped his knuckles against the door.
It swung open almost immediately, the man from the locker room (whom AJ now remembered had definitely introduced himself as "Prof. Schwartz") standing on the other side with a broad and welcoming smile on his face: "Well, hello, young man! You're right on time."
While Schwartz's pale blue shirt was far from the loud floral garment he'd had on last week, his blazer now made the flamboyant fashion statement instead -- a dark blue that was not, in itself, particularly striking save for the addition of another shade drawing a busy paisley pattern all over the jacket.
But, he was the chair of the Art Department, after all... Perhaps that was why AJ hadn't been more put off by their conversation last week?
Yes, that must have been it... Always having felt instinctively uneasy at the idea of other men checking him out, he couldn't think of any reason why he would have just stood there -- dripping wet with nothing more than tiny towel barely hiding his crotch from full view -- if he had thought he was on display for some faggot to be perving on him so freely. Yes, somehow he must have known that Prof. Schwartz's flamboyant appearance could be attributed to his simply being the "artistic type"... right?
Either way, regardless as to what the older man was wearing for their encounter today, AJ was relieved that he himself was fully dressed for this particular encounter -- albeit, certainly not as elegantly as Schwartz. AJ had just thrown on his usual "campus wear" before making his way over: a baggy grey hoodie bearing his school's name and an old pair of well-worn jeans. A chilly fall afternoon called for nothing more.
Schwartz turned to go back to his desk and AJ made his way into the professor's office, the door creaking shut behind him as he stepped in. With the blinds drawn and only a desk lamp for illumination, the room felt cave-like when the door closed. Dark wood composed the floor, the desk, and the bookshelves. All the furniture AJ could spot seemed only to be shades of grey. Now enclosed in a space both strange and lugubrious, a memory nagged at AJ's mind of being a terrified boy with a childish fear of the dark -- but he quickly pushed this from his consciousness and returned to the moment.
As the older man lowered himself into his desk chair, he beckoned AJ to sit on a small settee against the nearest wall. From his position behind the desk, Schwartz looked over at AJ once more (with AJ noticing the other man's expression had somehow changed from jolly warmth to a curious -- perhaps "hungry" even -- gaze instead). Now, with a smile that seemed more sly than welcoming, Schwartz spoke again: "I wasn't sure if you'd follow through today. I'm so very pleased you were so punctual. Tells me you're definitely eager to be here!"
AJ took his own seat. "Uhh... Sure. No problem, Prof. Schwartz." He shifted in his seat, both from a desire to get comfortable on the surprisingly rigid piece of furniture and from a creeping suspicion that there was something threatening about being here (yet which he could not quite put his finger on). "But, uh, can you remind me... What am I here for?"
The older man shuffled through some papers on his desk. "Well, you're the model for my class today, of course," he replied matter-of-factly, not looking up from the pile he was sorting through.
AJ furrowed his brow and scratched his head, flashing the innocent smile he used whenever he knew he'd need to rely his above-average looks to make up for his occasionally below-average wits. "Uh... model?"
"Yes, of course." Schwartz glanced up from his papers and directly into AJ's eyes. "We talked all about this yesterday, don't you remember?"
Swartz held AJ's gaze for a minute or two -- AJ couldn't tell quite how long their eyes stayed locked like that -- and then, AJ thought he could remember... Yes, yes they had talked about this yesterday. Of course. How had he forgotten that?
The younger man ran his hand through his thick, raven hair and chuckled nervously, attempting to laugh it off. "Oh, yeah... Sorry, slipped my mind, I guess."
The warm smile from before quickly returned to Schwartz's face. "Not a problem, AJ. The important part is that you're here." He glanced down at his wristwatch. "Well, the class starts in just under an hour, so we should probably get ready now."
Having apparently located the form he had been searching for, Schwartz beckoned AJ over to his desk. "If you could just sign this waiver for me, AJ."
AJ rose and made his way over to Schwartz's desk. "Waiver, huh?" He flashed a compensatory smile again. "Is this, uh, something I should be concerned about?" AJ asked, picking up the form and reading the first few lines: "I, the undersigned, hereby relinquish..."
"AJ," said Schwartz he rose from his desk chair, prompting the younger man to tear his eyes away from the page and meet Schwartz's gaze one more. "You don't need to read that. Just sign it."
"Uh... yeah. Yeah. You're right. I, uh, don't need to read this. Just sign it."
AJ promptly grabbed the pen on Schwartz's desk and inked his John Hancock at the bottom of the page, somewhat confused as to why he hadn't bothered to read what appeared to be a serious legal contract. Had they discussed its contents yesterday? Yes, that must be it... Why else would he so readily sign something he knew so little about?
When he looked up from the form, he saw that that warm smile was back on Schwartz's face. "Perfect, AJ. Thanks so much." The art professor slid the signed document into a satchel sitting by the side of the desk, casually adding: "You can just leave your clothes here."
AJ's brow furrowed once more and he let out a nervous chuckle (too uneasy to fake a charming smile this time), assuming he simply did not understand the professor's joke. "My clothes? Heh... what, uh, what do you mean?"
A knot formed in AJ's stomach. Something was very wrong here.
"Well, yes. We can't exactly have our nude model wearing clothes, now can we?!" the older man replied with a jolly chuckle, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
A jock through-and-through, AJ was not especially familiar with how art classes worked. In fact, until this moment, he had not even been entirely sure if nude illustrations were really something that happened on college campuses or if they were just a comedy-of-errors scenario for sitcoms to use.
AJ ran his hand through his hair once more, much more nervously now, glancing at the door and wondering if he could justify just walking out right here and now. "Oh... uh, it's nude modelling?" AJ asked sheepishly, his mind racing, wondering how best to articulate his profound desire not to do this. "I, uh, I don't think I knew that... I don't think I'm comfortable doing this, Prof. Schwartz."
"Don't be ridiculous, AJ. You were so enthusiastic about it yesterday. Don't you remember?"
Again, the art professor looked AJ dead in the eye as he asked his question. And yet again, AJ did remember that. It was out of character for him... VERY out of character, in fact. But... but he must have been feeling extra bold that day because he definitely now remembered, with 100% certainly, that he had eagerly and enthusiastically agreed to pose completely nude for this class when Schwartz and he had spoken yesterday.
"Oh, right... I guess that slipped my mind too," he replied without conviction. The room was spinning around him now and everything had an unreal quality to it. This simply did not add up.
His nudity -- not even just of the public variety, but sometimes private, too -- was among his worst fears. Why on earth would he have agreed to something like that? It was the farthest from something he could ever possibly want.
Schwartz flashed a tight smile. "Don't worry about it, AJ. You seemed a bit distracted that day, anyhow. You must have had a lot on your mind."
The knots tightened in AJ's stomach as he racked his brain for either an explanation or a plausible excuse to leave. He considered again just dashing out the door without giving it any qualification, ready to give Schwartz a quick "goodbye, no thank you, and fuck off" and forget the whole thing.
But when he turned back to meet Schwartz's gaze, he found that thought drifting from his head and another taking centre stage.
"Now, as I was saying," Schwartz began, this time reiterating his statement as a command: "Just leave your clothes here."
AJ swallowed hard and glanced around at Schwartz's minimalistically-decorated office, hardly convinced that this was really about to happen, yet knowing with complete certainty that he absolutely must -- without no exception -- leave his clothes here. "Ah, okay, sure. I think I passed the men's room down the hall, so I guess I'll go there to change into a robe?"
Schwartz chuckled heartily at this, although the quizzical look AJ shot back suggested the younger man had apparently missed his own joke. "AJ, my boy, don't be silly!" Schwartz said, putting his hand on AJ's shoulder in what he must have meant to be a reassuring paternal gesture.
"The whole class will be seeing every last inch of your body in a few minutes. Getting naked in front of little old me shouldn't be much by comparison!" Schwartz added with a dismissive wave.
AJ chuckled nervously, finding that -- contrary to how Schwartz had seemed to intend it -- the prospect of being naked in front of a whole class of strangers shortly did not make the idea of stripping in front of Schwartz now seem any more appealing. AJ once again scanned the room, vainly searching for something like a privacy screen he had previously missed.
"Now, AJ." Schwartz stated authoritatively, AJ's turning to meet his piercing gaze once more. "Take. Off. Your. Clothes."
The fact was crystal clear again in his mind: this was something he had to do. AJ realized then how much he had been stalling. Had he not agreed to this? He didn't want to do it now, that was for sure... But he had agreed to it yesterday -- he remember that with crystal clarity. And he signed Schwartz's form. This... this had to happen.
Reluctantly, the college gym-rat pulled his hoodie off, revealing a black tank that showed off the bulging biceps and plump pectorals. The bulky garment had hidden the shape beneath, AJ's broad shoulders and broad chest narrowing in a V to his mid-section.
Without even realizing it, AJ found himself pulling his tank off and releasing a surprisingly thick forest of chest hair from under it. Tossing his hoodie and tank next to the desk, a sobering thought occurred to AJ, scanning the room and inquiring aloud: "Uh, where's the robe, though?"
When he looked back to Schwartz, it seemed for a moment like the art professor had been in a trance, a full beat passing before he tore his eyes away from AJ's recently revealed flesh.
"Sorry. What was that?" he asked, apparently trying to focus his attention.
AJ wondered if his first instinct had been right all along: judging by the way Schwartz seemed to be hungrily sizing him up, the guy had to be a total fruitcake. Although it was possible this was just a moment of aesthetic assessment -- the man was an art professor, after all -- AJ's skin still crawled at the feeling of having another man's predatory gaze fall upon it.
"The robe," AJ bellowed, feeling more emboldened.
Another beat, a confused look forming on Schwartz's face.
"For me to wear," AJ grumbled, wondering why he was even putting up with this.
Why he had been so compliant up until this point? Schwartz may have been an older man with professional clout, but AJ towered over this limp-wristed homo. Didn't that count for something? Why was Schwartz not intimidated, even now that AJ adopted an authoritative tone?
Something about his shirtlessness made AJ feel like he was waking up from a dream -- the cold air on his bare flesh acting like the cold water you might splash on your face to ward off sleep. This was not normal, this was not something he wanted. In fact, it was the opposite of those things.
AJ was not someone who took commands and he was certainly not someone who stripped.
Schwartz's hearty chuckle only made AJ more uneasy. "Oh, AJ, my boy! There's no need for modesty now! Why ever would you need a robe? The room is just a few short steps away from here and we are a little short on time," Schwartz said, glancing down at his watch. "Class is in half an hour. No sense in you putting one on and then taking it off again when the whole point is for all of us get a good look at your bare body and not at some threadbare peignoir."
AJ felt his cheeks burning, blushing profusely at the thought of the situation he would find himself in shortly. "Uh, I don't really feel comfortable walking through the halls, you know, uh, naked like that..." he said as he reached for his discarded clothes and started to shuffle towards the door.
"Oh... are you sure, AJ? I didn't get a robe for you because I'm certain you told me yesterday that not having one wouldn't be a big issue," the older man said, locking eyes with AJ in the moment he glanced up.
Had AJ really said that? It sounded absolutely nothing like him.
But... then again, he did remember saying it. He remembered -- yet barely believed -- that he had in fact told this man that he would have no problem walking around the halls of the Visual Art Building completely in the buff.
Despite the burning cheeks, the cold sweat trickling down his back, and the queasy feeling in stomach, AJ's mouth formed the words: "I, uh, I guess you're right, Prof. Schwartz. I guess, uh, I'll... I'll be fine without the robe."
"Excellent!" Schwartz exclaimed, the widest smile yet taking over his face as he made his way around the desk and came up to AJ's side. "Now, like I said, we really do need to be heading over to the room soon. And time is a-tickin'!" The older man laughed good-naturedly. "So, let's get you naked."
At that, Schwartz reached for the younger man's belt buckle and eagerly began to undo it -- a move that quickly caused AJ to swat his hands away and recoil.
"Woah! Hands off!"
Schwartz frowned angrily at this, suggesting a more capricious temperament than AJ had first picked up on. However, the art professor quickly saved face, forcing a smile and adding: "Sorry, my boy. We're just in a rush is all. Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
In a rush? Where had the time gone to? AJ was starting to feel yet again that something was very, very wrong here. He shook his head, trying to focus on what exactly was out of sorts. His memories, his behaviour, the situation... Something... Something was definitely --
"My, my," Schwartz said, bringing his hand to his chin in a contemplative gesture. "I don't know that I've ever seen this kind of resistance..." he added, trailing off while he looked AJ up and down. "But, really, AJ. I must insist: YOU. NEED. TO. BE. NAKED. NOW."
AJ knew the tone Schwartz was taking with him was hugely inappropriate. It resonated like a parent speaking to a petulant child or an owner speaking to a disobedient mutt.
But... something in it, something about it prevented his initial urge from rising up all the way. Speaking to him like this, anyone else would have received a prompt knuckle sandwich. But that desire sank as quickly as it arose, and instead a stronger-than-ever desire to make Schwartz's command happen struck him.
AJ immediately kicked off his shoes and proceeded to yank off his socks, carelessly throwing them away from him.
For all his protestations, the move from being merely bare-chested to being totally bare-ass was shockingly swift. As soon as the second sock left his hand, AJ's hands wildly fumbled with his belt buckle, reminding him of very different times when passion instead of compulsion had him performing the same actions with the women he'd be bedding.
The second his belt buckle came loose, his other hand flew to his fly and unzipped. The speed with which he pulled down the waistband was then so great that AJ himself was unsure which hand had started it.
Helpless to slow the process now, AJ did not simply pull down his jeans, but also his boxer shorts in one fell swoop. He flopped into a sitting position on the settee now behind him as he shook off his pant legs, eagerly throwing his last thread of clothing to the side as he stood once more.
In the instant he had completed his task, his boxers leaving his hand as he returned to a fully upright position, profound embarrassment struck AJ, now being completely naked in front of a stranger who -- AJ realized upon looking at the older man -- was once again sizing him up with what was definitely more than an "artistic appreciation" for the male form displayed in front of him.
Blushing profusely and wondering why his nakedness didn't strike him until just that moment, AJ sent his hands directly to his crotch to give him some sense of dignity (knowing, somehow, that he absolutely had to be naked now -- that retrieving his clothing was not and could not be an option).
Schwartz's apparent focus on "aesthetically assessing" AJ was interrupted the second the younger man's hand blocked his crotch from view. The art professor shook his head slightly, as if just then remembering AJ was a person with whom he had to interact instead of just a statue he could passively enjoy looking at.
His eyes having definitely been locked on AJ's groin the moment prior, Schwartz met gazes with him and let the slyest smile yet form on his face. "There, now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
Picking up on the coolness of the drafty old office everywhere on his exposed skin, AJ felt like a trap had been spun -- and he had been caught. It was too late. There was no escaping now.
"I, uh..." AJ searched his mind for some way to respond -- some way to make sense of or gain control of the situation. "I... I don't usually..."
The room seeming to spin around him, AJ hardly noticed that Schwartz had moved until the art professor stood less than a foot in front of him. Where before Schwartz had kept a polite distance from AJ, making him uncomfortable with his looks and nothing more, only now that AJ was on total display did the older man choose to invade his personal space.
Confusion and embarrassment momentarily took a back seat as anger swelled up in AJ's mind. Another man this close, what else but aggression could it possibly mean? AJ was no boy -- strong and virile in body, he could fight off this--
"AJ." Schwartz's tone was the opposite of the commanding voice he had used moments before, instead now taking on a fatherly, comforting valence.
Conflicting feelings still swarmed in AJ's mind. Equally strong desires competed, AJ's embarrassment and discomfort with his nudity only marginally outweighing his desire to pull his hands from his crotch and use them to push this freak the fuck away from him.
Continuing in his paternal tone, Schwartz touched AJ's hands and applied pressure gently, adding: "Put these at your side."
A third desire now competed with AJ's other two: a desire to let his hands hang loosely, neither covering him nor thrusting away this obvious threat. Confusion once again joined the mix as that desire overwhelmed the others and rose to the top.
AJ's hands then gave way to Schwartz's gentle push and fell to his side, leaving him now totally exposed. His cheeks burned hotter than ever as Schwartz's eyes slowly made their way back down.
"Hmm," Schwartz vocalized, his lips pursing as though he were judging a piece of merchandise. To AJ's surprise, he then squatted down to inspect his now-visible package. At that, the desire to cover himself immediately swelled up again, but sank back down again almost as quickly when his arms failed to respond. Still, deeply uncomfortable with the situation, AJ's whole body instinctively recoiled, backing away from Schwartz's crouching form.
"I... I don't want you looking at me," AJ choked out as he backed up against the wall, trying to get as much distance between himself and the strange man who had trapped him here. "Down there."
Schwartz chuckled as he pulled himself back up, "My boy, why ever would you agree to be a nude model if you can't take one little old man having a look at you?"
AJ searched his mind for an answer, coming up blank. The confusion, Schwartz's mocking tone, the older man's invasion of his personal space... his private space -- anger was welling up in him again. "I... I don't fucking know!" his hands shot up as he yelled out in exasperation.
Schwartz took a couple steps back, putting the desk between him and AJ, all the while a stone-cold expression covering his face.
"I don't fucking know what I'm doing here, okay?! I don't know why I agreed to be a fucking model for some fucking faggot art teacher --" he slammed his hands on the desk in a display of force to show Schwartz he meant business "-- but I know I'm getting the fuck out of here!"
Emboldened by his outburst, AJ's posture had changed completely, going from a shy, humiliated hunch to a broad-chested battle stance.
A moment passed, Schwartz's expression not changing. AJ felt the cool office air brush against his naked body, starting to undermine his confidence as embarrassment crept back in again.
"Well..." Schwartz smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. "I can see you're getting cold--" he glanced momentarily at AJ's crotch once more "-- cold, uh, feet... as the saying the goes."
AJ felt himself blushing, but he did not back down. He felt himself winning this battle -- freeing himself from this pervert's sick scheme.
Schwartz casually sat down at his desk and began rifling through some papers. "I suppose I'll just cancel tonight's class, seeing as we won't have a model..." he began, pulling over another stack of documents. "I believe your pants are by the bookshelf in the corner," he added, gesturing in the general direction, but not bothering to look up.
AJ felt triumphant. Whatever was happening here -- whatever this freak had tried to pull him into -- he had gained control of the situation. He was going to make it out.
He turned to the bookshelf that Schwartz had indicated, momentarily ashamed when he realized he had pulled off both his jeans and boxer shorts with such gusto only a few minutes prior that he had not even realized where he had tossed them to afterwards.
AJ took a couple steps toward the pile of clothes... and just stood there. Shame and confusion trickled back into his mind like the cold sweat that had been trickling down his back. His anger and the confidence it brought started to fade away and he wished once more that he could cover his himself up -- but could not override the much stronger desire to leave himself exposed.
"Something wrong?" Schwartz asked in a disinterested tone, the sound of pages flipping still continuing.
AJ thought he caught a note of playfulness in Schwartz's words. His heart sunk as he realized the older man had never really backed down, had always known he was winning.
"I..." AJ turned back to Schwartz, his brow furrowed. What was he supposed to say? That every time he tries to think about picking his underwear up, his mind is simply filled with Schwartz's instruction to be naked now.
He searched for words that didn't sound completely stupid: "I'm not going to put my clothes on."
The words did not quite avoid sounding foolish, but they captured AJ's thoughts.
Schwartz just then looked up from his pile of papers with a smirk. "You must really enjoy being naked then, huh? Well, I figured you must be quite the exhibitionist to agree to something like this, anyway..."
"No..." AJ began. "No, I just, I decided I should follow through with this because, uh... I signed the contract and all."
The smirk remained on Schwartz's face, the playful note returning to his voice. "Oh, right. The `contract.' Of course."
The art professor rose from his seat. "Although, it's just a waiver for things that might happen after we start, you know?" he began, moving from his chair to the window a few steps behind it. "It doesn't say you have to do it."
AJ knew now that the bastard was toying with him. He could have just accepted AJ's "contract" excuse and gotten exactly what he wanted. Why wouldn't he give him at least that shred of dignity?
"Fuck, man," AJ sighed. "All right. I can't put my clothes on, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Schwartz arched his eyebrows and frowned. "Can't put your clothes on? Hmm... well, you may not be the sharpest young man I've ever met, but I can't imagine someone else dresses you every morning..." A small smirk returned to Schwartz's face.
Before AJ could reply, his mind was turned to other things as the older man grabbed a cord and swiftly pulled up the blind that had obscured a large window along the office's back wall.
Once again, AJ's body attempted a stunted movement before resorting to another: a twitch in his upper arms was the closest he came to realizing his initial impulse of covering himself, his legs moving him back as a fallback plan.
Of course, this accomplished next to nothing. AJ would still be in full view of anyone looking in window, a couple steps' distance hardly making a difference.
Mercifully, the window looked out only on a small patch of trees. AJ still felt exposed -- felt like anyone's prying eyes could be hidden in that copse, and this was all the more concerning because he would have no idea who or how many people were there -- but at least he was not on full display.
Glancing out the window, Schwartz commented: "Hmm... seems like we're losing the natural light."
He turned back to the younger man. "AJ, flick on the lights," and, meeting his gaze, added, "Now."
As the fluorescents came to bright and brilliant life, AJ wondered how he even gotten over to the light switch, finding again that the time he spent around Schwartz never quite added up to a full sequence of events and that his thoughts never quite formed a full picture.
Turning away from the light switch, AJ realized another thing had happened in the lost time: Schwartz had sauntered right up behind him.
He started at the surprise of seeing Schwartz there, putting his hands up in a defensive position.
Schwartz gave a good-natured chuckle, but did not give AJ any more space. "Sorry about that, didn't mean to startle you. I thought you heard me come up behind you."
AJ noticed then that he had quite literally backed himself into a corner, the movement of the two men (AJ, jumping slightly back and Schwartz moving ever more forward) meaning that Schwartz would block any path he might take.
Trapped, AJ could hear his heart throbbing in his ears. This was not the kind of fear one feels for a rival you could beat in a brawl, but fear of the dark -- fear of something completely unknown. This was a game of cat and mouse, and AJ worried what would happen now if that cat decided he was done having his fun.
"Now, let's get a look at you with proper lighting," Schwartz said cheerfully, squatting down once more.
This time, neither impulse found an expression: AJ's biceps twitched impotently as the rest of his arms failed to move to cover him, and his legs found no where to go with a wall on either side behind him.
Reaching crotch-level, Schwartz managed to catch AJ off-guard again by doing more than just looking. He reached out and grasped his flaccid member.
"Woah!" AJ exclaimed, smacking Schwartz's touch away. "Keep your hands the fuck off of me!"
The naked man was surprised when Schwartz actually withdrew his hand and gestured apologetically, "Sorry, sorry..." as he tilted his head and continued to inspect AJ's genitalia.
Although Schwartz's mumbled apology seemed minor in comparison to AJ's outburst at being touched, the younger man took what he could get, pleased that, at least for the moment, the strange man looked only with his eyes.
"Hmm, you know, young man," Schwartz began as he pulled himself back to a standing position. "Your foreskin retracts when get angry," he concluded matter-of-factly.
"My... what did you just say?" AJ asked, both confused and embarrassed at hearing a stranger's assessment of such a private function -- one so private even he questioned if it was true.
"When you yelled out there, your glans came right out of hiding," Schwartz said, gesturing to AJ's crotch as though he were explaining how some device worked instead of describing the intimate functions of a part of him. "It's impossible to miss. The shade of fuschia is really quite striking."
AJ's eyes bulged, incredulous at both the claim Schwartz made and the fact that the man would make such an inappropriate comment at all. He looked down at his package before catching himself, not wanting to give in to the stupid curiosity Schwartz had planted in his mind.
This kind of commentary was alien to AJ, never having heard anything like this from his intimate partners.
One night stands and casual fucks rarely said more about his private parts than "Nice cock" or commented on its length or thickness in some vague way. Even Jessica, who knew his body more than anyone else had, had never said anything about how his dick reacts to his emotions.
Her commentary had been sexual and personal: "Your balls get so tight right before you cum" or "I know you like it because I feel you throbbing inside me" and the like.
This was not even like the kind of things doctors had told him.
Being told there's "no swelling in the mons pubis" is nothing like being told "your dick shows off your feelings" with its "striking shade of fuschia."
Schwartz's comments on his cock were not about something sexual -- they did not have the safety and security of the whole sex act to go with them. They were about something deeply private and personal.
AJ felt more naked and more vulnerable than he ever thought he could, with Schwartz taking him into a world where others would know more about his body and know more from his own body than even he did, driven not by a hook-up's lust or a girlfriend's love or a doctor's medical compassion, but pure curiosity about how he works.
These realizations and many others all dawned on AJ in an instant, his anxiety about his situation growing more by the second. This feeling was not helped by the thing that then took his attention: a knock at the door.
Schwartz looked over his shoulder toward the door and then stepped to side to let AJ through. He turned back to the young man, meeting his gaze with his piercing eyes once more and adding: "AJ, go answer the door."
And the next thing he knew, there he was, naked as the day he was born in an open door way, there for the hungry gazes of whoever might be standing on the other side.
Search tags: CMNM, exhibitionism, mind control, hypnosis