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(c)2002 copyright by SJTJ (aka Naive)
Copyright information: This story is the sole property of SJTJ (aka Naive). No 
one has the right to alter distribute or sell this story with out my written 
permission. I do hear by give the right to copy, give, or display this story to 
anyone who wants it. Changes and follow-up stories should have my permission. 
Any grammatical or spelling changes are permissible as long as it does not 
change the ideas or concept.
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This story is intended for mature audiences. You must be 18 or older to read 
this story. This story may contain violence, sex, and ball busting. If this 
subject matter offends please DO NOT read. Thank you.
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A touch of Art (Chapter 1)
By Naive, shattered_mind@hotmail.com

	It had been a rough semester for Roger and was going to be his next to 
last, but after failing the final in Ms. Timms class their was no way he was 
even going to graduate. The summer was almost over and it was time to decide 
what he was going to do about school. Neglecting to tell his parents about his 
predicament left him in a total panic. Sara was Rogers best friend they had 
known each other since the first grade and she only lived down the block. Sara 
was also a computer major but she was interested in graphic design, Roger was 
more into the programming aspects. When Sara came over Roger spilt the beans to 
her, luckily for him she thought she could help. Ms. Timms was also an art 
teacher, and Sara and her were good friends. In fact, they had a class together 
this very semester. A few days later Sara came back with his schedule in hand.

	"How the heck did you get my schedule?" Staring over the piece of paper in 
hand. It had less classes then he expect, and was disappointed to not see the 
class he had failed on the schedule. "Couldn't get me in the class, hum?" His 
tone filled with disappointment.

	"Actually, I got you as good as I can get. She promised she would let you 
in next semester."

	"Really!" Jumping to his feet he grabbed Sara and swung her around. 
"That's great! I know I can explain another semester to my parents no problem, 
but how? Last time I saw her she called me a slacker and said I would have to 
have a 3.8 GPA before she'd let me take it again." He remembered the 
conversation well. He had spent most of the semester working on what he thought 
of as more important projects, and more important classes. Supposedly, it had 
gotten back to her, so she made his life rough. It became a tug of war to keep 
up with all his other classes and Ms. Timms class. The end result - failure. All 
the other classes came out good, but hers dropped his GPA to a 3.4 it would have 
taken forever to get it back up. She told him she didn't like slackers and had 
the right not to take him back into the class; she read it strait from the 
handbook. She was going to ruin his life over one stupid comment. The biggest 
problem was that she was the only one teaching the class, and she was his 
advisor; Their was no way around her.

	"Well, I did have to make a deal with her."

	"Deal?" His face became a cloak of caution. "What kind of deal?" Sara 
liked to make deals, most of them got him into to trouble. They were friends, 
but she had caused many bumps in their relationship with deals.

	"You see . she needed a model for the art class this semester since no one 
volunteered. So, to make up for what you said, I told her you would do it; 
that's how I got your schedule. Ms. Timms made your schedule how she needed it." 
Sara could see Roger freaking. His eyes were starting to roam and he started 
pulling at his hair.

	"I can't do that!" Roger exploded. "I get stage fright walking up to a 
McDonald's checkout counter - you know that!" Roger's heart started beating hard 
in his chest and his breathing became ragged. He hatted being in front of people 
it terrified him.

	"Come on Roger, calm down." Pushing him so he was sitting down, she put 
her arm around his shoulder. "Don't worry I'll be right there with you. At least 
for one of the classes. I'll help you through it."

	"I can't even ask a girl on a date, and you expect me to stand in front of 
all those people - staring at me." Tears started to form in the corners of his 
eyes. It was hopeless he was going to fail in life, just like he had with all 
the girls. Sara caressed his cheek. After awhile, she finally calmed him down, 
and made him see this was his only choice. 

	The weeks went by and school was starting again. It was Roger's first day 
as a model. He was to show up early so Ms. Timms could place him where she 
wanted him for the class. He was there prompt, but utterly terrified. Nervously 
he chewed at his finger nails as he sat there waiting for Ms. Timms.

	"Roger, there you are." Roger leapt to his feet from his seat. "I'm sorry 
I didn't mean to scare you." Ms. Timms smiled at him. But, the smile was odd - 
almost predatory.

	"Ms. Timms, I'm not sure I can do this." Twisting his hand over his 
knuckles, he tried to calm himself as he spoke. "I'm not good in front of 
people. I just can't go out there."

	"Well, it's your choice Roger, but a deal was made. You shouldn't worry so 
much: the classes are small; I know, I hand picked them myself." Her eyes held a 
gleam that made him uncomfortable. "You have some time to decide, but if I were 
you I'd stick with the deal." Following Ms. Timms into the classroom he looked 
around. About fifteen easels were set up around the room and a small dais rested 
on the far wall. The harsh smell of paint wafted around the room. "Come help me 
with the windows Roger." Ms. Timms pointed to a set of windows and asked Roger 
to open them for her. All of them were shut tightly, but with some strain he 
forced them open. When he turned Ms. Timms was watching him. A blush ran over 
his whole body - he felt her eyes on him, sizing him up. "I can see that your a 
little shy. We'll have to get you over that. Come on, sit here on the stool." 
Patting the little stool on the dais. He sat down and looked out at all the 
chairs. He had to hold onto the base of the seat to keep from bolting. She 
walked behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. She could feel the 
tense muscles underneath his thin pullover. "I have a plan if you'll listen to 
it. It just might save us both some trouble."

	"What's that, Ms. Timms?" He stammered as he looked back at her.

	"Call me Ronda. I think that a blindfold might help." If she didn't have 
her hands on his shoulders, she new he would have bolted right then. He did try 
to get up, but Ronda put just enough pressure to keep him still. "Don't be so 
hasty to discount it. Let's try it first and see how it feels." Looking around 
he saw Ronda walking over to a large chest, by her desk, and pulled out a 
leather blindfold. If he was going to leave it was now or never. But, he was 
transfixed by Ronda's sensuous movements and the blindfold in her hand. Walking 
behind him she placed it on his face. Everything was black, cool leather against 
his skin. "Now isn't that better." It was kind of calming. No eyes on him, no 
pressure. "Just sit there and get use to it." Roger felt a little silly just 
sitting there, but it wasn't so bad. He started to think of all the sculptures 
in the museums and paintings he had seen. He would be immortalized forever.

	"I don't think ." Pulling the blindfold off, his words died in his throat. 
Nausea washed over him as sixteen sets of eyes stared at him.

	"Class this is Roger, he's going to be our model this semester. Learn his 
features well." Ronda watched Roger, she could see he was trapped there by his 
own fear; this semester was going to be fun she thought. Walking to the dais she 
stood behind him and pulled the blindfold back over his eyes. "Just sit there 
and you'll do fine. And, unless you wish to fail another class with me - I 
suggest you stay." She whispered in his ear. Confusion ran across his face as he 
turned slightly towards her. "Oh, didn't I mention - this is an independent 
study for you. If you leave, you fail." He could hear her little laughter as she 
walked off. He was trapped. His mind kept seeing all those eyes on him. Hours of 
sitting went by in darkness. When he finally got a break he ran to the restroom 
and lost his breakfast. A female voice startled him as he wiped his face clean.

	"Are you all right?" Sara said behind him. Roger turned and sat on the 
hard tile floor and looked up at her. His eyes had a desperate look to them.

	"I can't go back in there. I just might as well fail and get it over 
with."

	"Roger, you did fine." She patted his shoulder. Knocking his head softly 
on the metal partition between stalls, he tried hard to keep it together. "Come 
on you did it. It wasn't that hard: you can do it again. I'm right there with 
you. Just think of me out there for support." Helping him up from the floor they 
returned to finish out class. The first week passed, and he survived. But, he 
wasn't prepared for what was next.

	Monday morning came and he got up early, quite tense. He felt this burning 
sickness deep inside that he couldn't explain. The model thing was giving him 
nightmares; making it hard to sleep. He almost called Ms. Timms to tell her he 
was sick, but he knew she would never believe him. He was sure that she knew 
before hand that he was terrified of being in front of people: this was her 
little punishment for his statements last semester. Maybe if he apologized she 
would let him out of it.The blindfold at least made the day go by a little 
faster. Ms. Timms said that she told her classes that it was a little experiment 
Roger was doing for a psychology class, so they wouldn't know his little secret. 
Though, some of the girls from the class he had seen, smiled at him, and said 
hey here and there. It was a little bonus, because none of the girls ever seemed 
to notice him before. But, he was still utterly terrified to be up there. Roger 
showed up early as usual, but this time Ronda was there first. She had a set of 
clothes laid out on her desk and smiled at Roger as he walked in. She noticed 
his eyes looked a little haggard, and he didn't have the same youthful jump to 
his step. This would make it much easier for her to get what she wanted from 
him, if she played her cards right; being tired made him easier to manipulate. 
Today was going to be a good day. Sara of course had been right - he was shy, 
and had a terrible phobia of being in front of people. But, she was also right 
when she said that he could be manipulated with little effort: Sara had done it 
their whole lives.

	"How are you this morning Roger?" Standing up from her desk she guided him 
to the chair in front.

	"Just a little tired. I've had a mild case of insomnia." Roger rubbed at 
his eyes, still trying to get his focus this morning.

	"I'm sure you'll be fine. I'll call your other teachers and tell them that 
you'll miss their class today."

	"Your going to let me go home." Roger said as a wave of relief swept over 
him.

	"No, of course not. You can rest just as good here as at home. We'll just 
let you stay in the chair and rest while we all work." Ronda watched as the 
smile collapse from his face. "I had the janitors bring in a chair from my 
house, so you won't have to perch on that horrible stool all day." Well, at 
least their was that. "Here." Handing him the clothes from off her desk. "Try 
these on."

	"Where can I change at?" Roger asked as he looked for a place to change.

	"Right here." Sitting down on the desk, she smiled at him. His face 
flushed red and his mouth instantly dried up. He didn't wear underwear: he 
couldn't change in front of her! "Oh, come on Roger it's not like I haven't seen 
a man in his underwear before."

	"I don't wear underwear." He managed to choke out, as he stared at the 
floor in total embarrassment.

	"Oh, I'm sorry." A wicked little smile crossed her face. "Would you like 
me to turn around?" Roger nodded. As Ronda turned she pressed the little red 
button on the control she held tight in her hand. Sara's information was 
completely accurate - everything was going as planned. Roger quickly striped out 
of his clothes and almost jumped into the pants before Ronda could turn, but she 
never did. Roger felt much better as he slipped on the rest of the clothes.

	"I'm done." Roger said. Ronda turned and looked at the young man before 
her. He was very good looking and had a nice well defined body. The black pants 
and thin black shirt made him look stunning. She peered at his feet, even they 
were tan and well shaped; this young man had no reason to be scared to stand in 
public, he was magnificent. Flowing blue eyes and short black hair, she was just 
wet thinking about taking him. But, the best part was that she was in control; 
just staring at him made him fidget and shift under her gaze. He would be a 
precious addition to her collection. Too bad it would only be a short stay, 
because after he was trained he would be sent over to Sara - he would be her toy 
from then on. She almost regretted the deal she had made, but she got three 
young women for this one young man. A fair trade.

	"Good, you'll be wearing that in class today."

	"Really?" Roger shifted in the tight clothes. He couldn't get comfortable 
in the tight pants. It felt like they were crushing his nuts into his leg and he 
couldn't shift his dick into the right place to make the pants feel ok, that's 
why he always wore loose clothes. Trying to get comfortable he started to get a 
hard on, even worse in tight pants. He noticed Ronda watching. With a quick 
flush to his color, he sat down to put his shoes and socks on.

	"You don't need those." Grabbing his arm she pulled him up. She was quite 
strong and Roger couldn't help but stager into her as she stood him up. Ronda 
loved the way he couldn't hold her eyes and his color keep turning, his normally 
tan skin, to a cherry red. Putting the blind fold on him, she led him to the 
chair on the dais and pushed him into it. Roger fell back into the leather 
chair, it felt like one of the old barber chairs he saw in the shops. Roger put 
his arms on the rest as Ronda placed his feet onto some cold metal foot plate, 
each one had it's own. "Hold still a second." She said beside him, he felt 
something tighten over his wrist. Trying to reach up to lift the blindfold, so 
he could see, he couldn't move it; it was strapped down. Right as he was about 
to pull the other away, he felt another tight squeeze on that wrist. He was now 
trapped.

	"Um . Ms. Timms, what's going on?" Roger felt something clamp down on his 
ankles, and could hear the sound of Velcro.

	"I'm just getting you ready for class." She smiled to herself. "The straps 
aren't too tight are they?"

	"No. But, why do you need to strap me down? I'll sit here."

	"Well you might change your mind soon."

	"Why's that?" Roger felt terror rise to his throat. He knew it wasn't 
going to be good.

	"Today we do the nudes for the class." Rubbing his cheek, she let her 
finger rest on his quivering lips. "Not scared are you?"

	"I never signed on to do nudes." Roger couldn't believe this, at least he 
had clothes on. "I won't do it."

	"Roger, my dear. You don't have a choice." With a quick yank she pulled 
the shirt from him. "I just love prop clothes. These were made for a friend of 
mine about your size; he's a quick change artist." Roger started to yank at the 
bonds but he was held tight. Ronda placed her index finger in his pants and let 
it play over his glans. Roger about choked: how could she do this to him?

	"Please Ms. Timms, I'm sorry - I never meant to say those things about 
your class. Please let me go." He was almost in tears, as his voice shook with 
terror.

	"Oh, Roger. I was never mad about that. I failed you to get you here." She 
couldn't help but laugh at his confused look. "I guess I should tell you that 
your, oh so sweet, Sara had this plan quite awhile back. Your just falling into 
place now."

	"Your lying! She would never do this to me!" Rage boiled in him, she had 
to be lying, but what if she wasn't? Why would Sara do this to him?

	"I'm sorry but I don't have time to argue - the class will be here soon." 
Yanking on the pants, they tore loose and Roger was left naked. "We'll talk 
after class."

	"Please, please let me go. I can't do this! I'll do whatever you want. 
Ple." Roger's begging got him nothing but a ball gag in his mouth. All he could 
do was mumble after that.

	"You see Roger," Pulling a strap around his thigh - spreading his legs 
apart. "I want my class to be more hands on." Strapping his other leg in, she 
watched as his struggling was reduced to intricate wiggling; though, it did make 
his penis wave hypnotically around. Grabbing a hold of his cock made him freeze 
as her grip tightened. "I like my class silent. If you move to much or make any 
more noise, well let's just say their might be repercussions." With that she 
took hold of his testicles and gave them a good squeeze. Roger's teeth ground 
together as the sick feeling from before became a burning white pain in his gut. 
"Enjoy class!" Ronda bopped off to her office to get ready for the day. While 
Roger sat there and waited for the inevitable. A few tears escaped as he tried 
to hold back his fear.

(c)2002 copyright by SJTJ (aka Naive)
Naive


  
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