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Related article: Date: Thu, 17 Oct 2002 13:09:47 -0700 (PDT)From: Tim Mead Subject: Dr. Tim and the Boys 02Dr. Tim and the Boys The following story is fiction. It involves sexually-expliciterotic events between males. If you are offended by such material, aretoo young, or live in an area where it is not allowed, don't read it.In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms.In the real world, everyone should practice safe sex. The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links toother sites are allowed without the author's consent. I want to thank Evan, Patrick, Ash, and Tom W. for lots ofhelpful ideas and steadfast encouragement as I worked on this story.If it's any good, it's because of Nude Lolita Models their help. If not, it's my fault.-- Tim.timmead88Yahoo.com Chapter 2: House Call #1 Friday I was a nervous wreck.After my 11:00 class, Rebecca Stein came up to the desk and asked,"Are you OK, Dr. Mead? You seemed as if your mind was on autopilotthis morning." "I'm OK, thanks, Becky. But you're right. I HAVE hadsomething on my mind. Sorry if it interfered with what we were talkingabout." "Oh, most of the class probably didn't even notice. You'resure you're all right?" "Yes, thanks, I'm fine. Now, go enjoy your weekend!" "Ok, professor. You, too." 'Yeah, right!' I thought. 'Some weekend this is going to be.' It was a cool, damp afternoon. Spring in northern Ohio can befickle, sunny and mild one day, wintry the next. I decided to run fora while. Running always helps to clear my mind. At home I put on asweatshirt, some shorts, and my running shoes. I did about sevenmiles, not really pushing myself, just more or less coasting along. Idon't remember much about it because I was thinking about what was instore for me that evening. When I got back to the apartment, I showered and pulled on someclean sweats. Frankly, I don't know what I did for the rest of theafternoon. I didn't have anything to eat. Didn't feel like it. The address to which I had been summoned was about a ten-minutewalk from my apartment, so I left about 6:50. I was still wearing thesweat outfit and had put on some old sneakers. No need to dress up forthe confrontation that was coming. I was reasonably optimistic because I could explain that Ihadn't known about Cedric's sister and that he hadn't left me anyalternative to giving him the F at mid-term. He simply hadn't turned ina couple of required papers, and he hadn't come in despite my askinghim to talk with me about them. The address turned out to be a new and surprisingly upscaleapartment building. No money problems here, apparently. It wascertainly much nicer than my building. The number given me was for thethird floor. After being buzzed in, I took the elevator. When I knocked on the door, it was opened immediately by TreyWithers, the captain of the university tennis team, who was in the samelit class as Cedric. His eyes bore into mine, their expressionunreadable. "Do come in, Dr. Mead!" I recognized his voice immediatelynow. He had been the talker, the one who had sat on my lap, looked mein the eyes, and jacked me off. There had been something familiarabout him the evening before in my office, but I hadn't been able toplace him. I remembered once before class overhearing Trey refer to meas "the Iceman," which had led me to believe that my "adult act" mightbe better than I'd thought. Trey, as I noted before, is about 5' 10" tall, with dirty blondhair which he wears clipped short. His name is Henry Lee Withers III,though everyone on campus calls him Trey. He has no southern accent,but, with a name like Henry Lee, I'd guess he was from Virginia. In class, Trey had talked a lot at the beginning of the term.He seemed to like leading the class discussion, being in control ofthings. Lately, however, he had been quiet. He speaks articulatelywhen he has something to say, and he writes pretty well, too.Certainly, with grades in the B+ to A- range, he had no reason to bedisgruntled about how he was doing in my course. So it was possiblethat he could have been genuinely upset over Cedric's failing grade atmid-term rather than operating out of some grudge against me. "Since we now have that photo, Dr. Mead, there's no need for usto hide our identities. Let me introduce my friends. This is MarkMason, and this is Chaz Greeley." I recognized both of them, too. Mark, like Cedric, is on thebaseball team. He has dark, curly hair and blue eyes. He's aboutTrey's height but slightly more muscular. He actually smiled at me whenhe was introduced. He has nice dimples when he smiles. Well Nude Lolita Models broughtup, apparently, to smile under these circumstances. Or, was theresomething more sinister behind his smile? I knew nothing about Mark'sacademic abilities, his major, or his standing, except, of course,that, like all varsity athletes, he couldn't play his sport unless hekept at least a C average. Chaz Greeley, about 6' 5", plays basketball. He has mousybrown hair, which he wears buzzed, and very pale blue eyes. Chazdefinitely did not smile when he was introduced. I knew less about himthan about the others. He wasn't really a star of the team, but heplayed first string, and the team had, as usual, had a good season thisyear. I sensed immediately a sort of intensity about Chaz. He lookedme straight in the eye, his face deadpan, as Trey introduced us. I hadthe impression that Chaz really didn't like me. All three were wearing t-shirts with the university logo, andbaggy shorts. Trey had on sandals. Mark was wearing sneakers. Chazhad bare feet - big bare feet -- so I assumed that he, at least, livedin the apartment. No one offered to shake hands. I nodded and said, "Gentlemen,"though I didn't think the term was appropriate. "We were all having a beer, professor. Let's get one for you,"Trey said. He was now smiling at me! "Forget the amenities, Trey. Let's cut to the chase. What doyou want?" "We can try to be civil, Dr. Mead. First, I want you to have abeer with us. You can at least accept our hospitality." "Trey, I'm here under duress. After what you three did to meyesterday, you expect me to drink with you? "Well, yes, Dr. Mead, we do," he said earnestly, "and, givenyour situation, you'd better go along with Nude Lolita Models us." "Okay," I said without much enthusiasm, "I'll have a beer." "That's better," Trey said. The others hadn't said a word.But Chaz left to go, I presume, to the kitchen. When Chaz got back with a Heineken's for me, Trey continued,"Dr. Mead, Mark here thinks we should Nude Lolita Models have let you explain more fullyyour side of what you did to Cedric. Would you like to do that?" I didn't like the phrase, what I "did to Cedric," but I thoughtit best not to say anything."You have to understand that I can't discuss one student's work withother students. But I can tell you that Cedric failed to turn in tworequired papers, that I asked him twice Nude Lolita Models to come in and talk with meabout getting the due dates extended, and that he just never showed up.Then he simply quit coming to class. What was I supposed to do?" Mark spoke for the first time. "Didn't you know that hissister had been in the hospital after her wreck?" "No, not until Trey mentioned it yesterday," I replied. "What about the memo from the Dean's Office," Chaz asked. "I didn't get a memo from the Dean." "That's funny," Trey commented, "the Dean's secretary says shesent you one the morning after the accident." "Well, Nude Lolita Models I never got it." "Interesting," Mark commented. The other two glanced at eachother. Chaz frowned. At this point, I noticed that it was warm in the apartment,especially in my sweat shirt. I gratefully drank some of the beer. Then they changed the subject. They asked about my running andabout the courses I taught. Mark asked if I followed the university'ssports teams. When I said Nude Lolita Models I did, we talked for some time about thevarious teams, especially the tennis, baseball, and basketball teams.Mark and Trey seemed surprised and maybe a little impressed that I wasup on what was happening in the sports world on campus. I wondered where all of this was going, but I was still in noposition to object. And, since it seemed that they were relaxed Nude Lolita Models ratherthan hostile (except maybe for Chaz, who remained inscrutable), I hadhopes of a successful conclusion to this encounter. "You know," I offered, "I could check with the Dean's OfficeMonday morning. If there was a memo I didn't get, that would changethings. Cedric's very intelligent. If he will come to see me aboutmaking up the work, he can probably be reinstated as soon as he gets itto me and I've read it." Now. That should take care of the problem. What could befairer than that? 'After all,' I thought, 'I am the professor and theyare the students. What are they going to do?' Nude Lolita Models An uncomfortable (forme, anyway) silence ensued. I nursed a second beer which had appearedwithout my being aware of it. The room was warm and the beer wasamazingly refreshing. This whole thing had been going on for, I wouldguess, about 45 minutes. I was sweating profusely and beginning tofeel lightheaded. I thought it must have been the heat in the apartment plus thebeers on an empty stomach. I was still nervous. I was about to testthe waters by saying I thought it was time for me to leave. But Icouldn't. I couldn't stand up. It was the most remarkable thing: Ihad at some point sprung a boner! "Dr. Mead, it looks as if you're too warm. Why don't you takeoff your shirt?" Trey asked. "Er, no, that's okay," I said. "I don't think you understand. Take off your shirt." "But, . . . " "Take off your shirt, Mead! We have that pic, don't forget,"Chaz said, menacingly. What could I do? I took off my shirt. "Now," Trey commanded, "Stand up." That was a problem. I had that boner, remember. "But I'm fine right here, Trey." "For the rest of the evening, you will do exactly what we tellyou to. Got it?" Reluctantly, slowly, I did what I was told. I recognizedTrey's change of attitude. Moreover, they did have the picture, Nude Lolita Models the oneof me with the big cum stain on the front of my pants and cum on myface, my glasses, my hair. The implied threat was that they'd use itif I didn't do what they said. Chaz cleared a couple of beer bottles off the very sturdylooking oak coffee table. "Now Dr. Mead, stand up on the table," he said. "Why?" "Don't ask questions Timmy boy," Trey said. "Just do what theman said." I was offended by his using my first name in such a familiarand disparaging way, but, remembering the picture, I stood up on thetable. "Look, guys," Chaz said, smiling for the first time, "thelittle prof's got a stiffie!" Even with the jock strap, my sweat pants were indeed tented outnoticeably. I should have been mortified, but for some reason, it wasall beginning to strike me as absurdly funny. I think I was standingthere on the table with a smirk on my face. I couldn't have told youwhy. I was feeling giddy, faint, with an urge to giggle. I noticed that Mark had produced a camera from somewhere,leaving me in no doubt as to Nude Lolita Models what was going to happen. Chaz said, "OK, PROFESSOR, turn your back to Mark." I knew that I had no choice but to do what these guys wanted.I also realized that I had been developing a what-the-fuck attitude,wherever that was coming from. Anyway, I did as they commanded. I turned my back to Mark. "Now," Chaz said, "with your right hand, pull your pants downover your right cheek." "Come on, Chaz," I said in one last feeble attempt to Nude Lolita Models resistbefore losing control completely. "Just DO it!" I did it. "Look guys, he's wearing a jock strap. As if he needed to." "Pull your jock down over your ass cheek, too," Chaz continued. I did that. "Now, turn your head over your right shoulder, put your leftindex finger in your mouth, and look at Markie. No! Get that smileoff your face! Give Mark a sultry look." Why was I smiling, anyway? How does one look "sultry"? Igave it my best shot. Laughter. Click! Yes, Mark was photographing all of this. "Cute, Tim," Trey said. "Now, pull your pants below both sidesof your butt, and then put your finger back in your mouth and look atMark. Getting my pants below my woodie provided a temporary glitch,but I did that, to more laughter. "What a scrawny ass!" Chaz commented. Click! "But doesn't he look cute?" Trey asked. More laughter. "Now," said Chaz, who seemed to have scripted all of this,"bend over and pull your cheeks apart." "Aw, come on guys, enough's enough," I complained. "May as well do what he says," Trey said, softly. So I did it. "Nice balls, Timmy. Not much cock, but man-sized balls," Chazcommented. "And no more hair on his ass than a kid!" "Timmy," Trey Nude Lolita Models said tauntingly, "I see your rosebud! You canexpect some traffic there, l'il prof." Traffic? I was too befuddled to have any idea of what hemeant. Click! "OK. Now lick your finger and stick it up your ass." 'Can it get any worse? Oh, well, what the hell!' Click! By this time, I knew I was totally blitzed. I heard myselflaughing, saying Nude Lolita Models to these guys, "whatever you fuckin' want!" I have to admdit, I don't actually remember anything afterthat. Oh, I can reconstruct what MUST have happened. I just don'thave any recollection of the events of the rest of the evening.* * * I woke up the next morning, Saturday, with a terrible headache.I was naked, in my own bed. 'How did I get here?' I wondered. I had no idea how I hadgotten home. The trio of jocks must have brought me here, used my keyto get in, stripped me, and put me to bed. It also seemed clear that they had put something like Viagra inmy beer, probably along with roofies Nude Lolita Models or one of the other "date rapedrugs" readily available on any campus. All of that on an empty stomachwas pretty potent. As I got my eyes open and sat up, once the fireworks in my headsubsided, I saw a note pinned to my pillow. It read, "Good morning, slave. Look at your email and be backhere at 7:00 this evening. Wear shorts, a t-shirt and sneakers.Nothing else." It was signed "Your masters." 'Woah! What did go on last night?' After a necessary trip to the john, my head still pounding, Ilogged on and checked my email. There was a message with picturesattached. Several of them. There were all of the ones I've told youabout: me with one cheek showing, me with my pants just below my ass(sucking a finger in each and looking absolutely ridiculous!), me bentover and holding my ass cheeks apart, and me, bent over, with a fingerup my hole (that was not an altogether new experience). But there were more, every one showing Junior erect in all hismodest glory. There was a series of three, in all of which I had a hugecarrot up my ass, with the green, leafy top still attached. In one I'mon all fours. In one I'm on my back, knees drawn up to my chest. Andin the third I'm standing, the carrot still sticking out of my ass,pumping my cock. My head is thrown back, eyes shut, mouth open,spraying cum. I was totally fucked. My "masters" yet! What could I do? Itlooked as if I had no choice but to do what they wanted, and Ishuddered to think what that might be. One thing was clear, for sure:I had to show up at their place again that evening. I usually call Amy on Saturday evenings. She always expectsthat. I look forward to our long talks on weekends when we can't betogether, though I sometimes wonder whether she just wants to know thatI'm not out with someone else. Anyway, I thought about calling her in the afternoon and makingsome excuse or other about why we couldn't have our usual Saturdaynight talk. I sure as hell couldn't tell her the real reason. Maybethis time I'd just send her an email.(to be continued)
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