Chapter 1

 

I am not a bad guy. Not a really bad guy, anyway. At least I wasn't until the power infected me...

At the time of writing, I'm twenty-five years old but when it all began, I was only twenty-two. Just a kid, really. I lived then-as I do now-on the Gold Coast of Queensland where I moved as soon as I left school down in Victoria. Neither my parents nor the rest of the small town I came from approved of gays and so as soon as I could, I left. I suppose I'm not all that bad-looking and I didn't have too much trouble landing a job. Not much of one-I was a check-out clerk in a supermarket. But it was a job and it let me rent a small flat and run a tiny car.

It also let me spend my weekends on the beach.

I love the beach. And the beaches on the Gold Coast are second to none in the world. Fine sand; miles long and so deep there is plenty of room for everyone. The surf isn't all that bad either most of the time.

But much as I love the sun and the surf, it's really the boys I go to see. There are hundreds of them: young, muscular, tanned-and wearing little but the so brief, ultra-thin nylon togs which hide so little. I like boys who are lean and smooth with nicely defined muscles. I don't like the huge, body-builder types so much although I did once go and see one of those exhibitions... I wasn't impressed or in the slightest bit turned on by them-or their huge muscles. Downright ugly, I thought.

I was then too shy to make my number with any of the boys on the beach of course-I just perved on their beautiful bodies and imagined... Oh how I imagined!

In my mind's eye, I had them naked and posing for me as I sat in a chair watching them perform-for me and me alone-on a small stage. They never smiled. It was part of my fantasy that they were reluctant performers, you see... But I dreamed I had some power over them and they had to do it until I released them.

I dreamed they were in my bed and I fondled them. Their smooth sleek flesh felt cool and wondrous under my questing fingers; their cocks were always huge, of course as were their balls.

I imagined us making love although here I was in some trouble. I was a virgin, you see. I knew I was gay of course and I had told my parents so (it was their reaction to my news which caused me to leave town) but I had been too shy to seek out other boys and too scared of AIDS to really want to. Nevertheless I dreamed of what I thought it would be like.

I tried to imagine the other boys' cocks up my ass or in my mouth and what my own would feel like in similar circumstances. And my imaginings were very pleasurable. Nothing like the real thing, I was to discover, but pleasurable nonetheless.

My name is Grant. Grant Scott. Not that it will mean much to you but I suppose it is easier if you have a handle to lock onto... As I said, I'm not all that bad-looking. (I know it sounds immodest to say so but there isn't much point in lying, is there). I have blue eyes and blond curly hair. My skin is olive and smooth and clear (I was fortunate never to have suffered from pimples).

Physically, my body is in pretty good shape, too. I used to love both gym and swimming at school and these sports were the two things I kept up when I moved up to Queensland. The combination of gymnastics and swimming honed my body into the ideal I looked for in others. I'm five feet eleven tall and I weigh a hundred and sixty-five pounds so I'm fairly lean although my muscles are clean-cut and quite well enough developed.

I had a few friends at work and a few more at the gym (which also had a swimming pool). But I was too shy to approach any of them sexually-I certainly didn't want another rebuff like I had had back home. I had come up to the Coast thinking I would have no trouble finding my feet up here but once here, I found it hard to know where and how to start. I wasn't a drinker and never went to the bars. I didn't even know there were bars devoted to gays or at least which catered to them...

So as you can see, I lived mostly in my dreams of what might be. Those dreams were wonderful. I went down to the beach early in the morning and waited for the first surfers to arrive. Early was when the really keen guys came down. Often by themselves or in pairs. And because the beach was almost deserted, they stripped out of their wet-suits right there... Yes, right there in front of me. Of course I only caught a glimpse of their goodies but I locked that glimpse firmly in my mind for later on. The smooth white buttocks which jutted so boyishly... Perhaps just a peep at the dangling cock and balls with the small tuft of pubic hair above them.

After the beach, I went home and dressed for work but after work I was back down there to perve on all the older boys from school. I never harboured desires for young boys. I suppose I knew it was wrong anyway, but it wasn't that. I preferred the clean-cut lines of the older adolescents and young men. I certainly didn't like the more mature man. I loathe and detest hair on the male form-actually I go to a clinic (a very private clinic) where they depilate me completely. I don't have to go very often these days. The system they use gradually kills off the hairs altogether and in a few more months I won't have to go back at all...

So it is the older boys and younger men I look to... And there are plenty of them to choose from.

In the summer months, they get about in those skimpy, so thin nylon togs but even in the winter they come to the beach, admittedly now in the wet-suits but even those make their bodies look great and accentuate their 'V' shape and their lean flat bellies. Did I say I really get off on flat stomachs and rippled abdominal muscles? I think sharply defined abs are the greatest and I've worked my own into a nicely scalloped array.

Alright, yes, I do... I do stand in front of my bathroom mirror and pose naked... But you want to know about the power?

Yes, well I am getting to it...

It came quite suddenly actually. There was no working up to it slowly although my own appreciation of what I could do with it only developed gradually.

I was lying on the beach early one Saturday morning. I had Saturdays off of course-we only work a five day week here-and I was planning to spend the whole morning on the beach as usual. I was watching a boy who was making his way past me down towards the water.

He was blond like me but a shade taller. His hair was fine and silvery and flopped all over the place as he walked. He could not have been over nineteen but his body was truly perfect. Beautifully muscled but not too much so. Each muscle was sharply defined and rippled alluringly as he moved. His skin was just perfect too. Not a hair on it and so smooth-like polished alabaster but with a wonderful tan as well.

Of course I fantasised about him as he walked down towards me on his way to the water.

I imagined him standing before me and posing those splendid muscles. I pretended to order him to approach me and to pose for my pleasure...

The thing was-he did.

Yes, he really did.

"You wish me to pose for you, Master?" he said softly, his voice low and beautifully modulated.

I blushed. I stared up at him in awe-and confusion. "I, er..."

There were only a couple of others on the beach and they were too far away to see us properly. He suddenly began to pose, assuming one position after another and flexing his muscles beautifully. My cock began to react and I pulled my towel over my middle to hide myself from him. He just smiled down at me-and continued posing. I suppose the display went on for some ten minutes, or perhaps not quite that long while I lay and stared up at him in absolute awe.

He was beautiful. There was no doubt about it at all. He was so handsome and his smile was like the sun itself. He didn't seem to mind at all what he was doing but although I was really turned on by it, I was also highly embarrassed. What if someone came along? I mean it was all so very definitely sexual...

He paused eventually and asked if I had enjoyed his body. Yes, just like that.

I found my voice at last-and I also found some courage. "I think you have the most beautiful body I have ever seen," I said honestly. It was too. Oh I had seen some pretty good physiques on the beach over the years but not posing for me like this boy had.

He smiled at my words and smoothed his own hands over his muscles while I gaped anew at this auto-eroticism...

What's your name?" I asked at last.

"Jamie," he said. "Jamie Kincaid..."

"Tell me Jamie... Why did you just pose for me like that?"

Why, because you asked me too," he said, his voice sounding surprised and his expression likewise.

"I ... asked ... you ... to?" I said wonderingly. "But I didn't say anything..."

"You didn't? But you must have... I clearly heard you order me to come over here and stand before you then pose my body for you..."

"Um," I said intelligently, getting to my feet to stand in front of him. Well, just suppose I did, why did you do it? I mean, suppose I asked you to take down your togs, would you?"

"Of course," he said-and did it!

He really did. He pulled the draw-string loose, put his hands in the waist band and pushed them right down to his ankles then stood up naked before me.

I gazed at him in wonder for a few seconds. Oh how I wanted to reach out and touch him. To stroke that beautiful flesh and perhaps to grasp at the splendid, uncircumcised cock he sported between his powerful thighs. But I had control of myself-just. "Pull them up again, quick!" I said hurriedly, hoping nobody had glasses on us from one of the high-rise building behind us.

He smiled at me but he pulled them back up again. Then just stood there looking at me. "Um," I said intelligently again. "Er, d'you like me, Jamie?" I asked, hoping desperately for the right answer. I didn't get it.

"I don't know you."

"Oh... Er, would you do this again for me sometime?"

"Do what?"

"Pose for me?" Now I was even more confused. He didn't seem to remember what he had done for me only minutes earlier.

"Pose for you?" He laughed. "Don't be daft, man..." And then he turned and ran down the beach and into the water.

I stood there in total confusion. Had I dreamed it all? Surely not?

I strolled down to the water's edge and stood looking out at him body-surfing in on the quite respectable waves. I suddenly wished he was doing it naked. It was just an idle thought... Like many I'm sure you've had over the years. But just as suddenly he was beside me on the beach, handing me his togs. "Would you look after these, please, Grant," he said, eyeing me quite innocently, then he turned and ran back into the waves, now stark naked.