The Friends Of Timmy!

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The Friends Of Timmy!
The Friends Of Timmy!
$3.99
Year: 2019
17,301
A small-dick college nerd is asked to be a nude model for an art class by his long time crush and it changes his life forever.
9780463900369
Max Swan
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Timmy first met Jill in high school.  She was the all-American cheerleader type, popular, and attractive.  She bloomed early, a curvaceous blonde-haired woman with large breasts even in high school.  Timmy, on the other hand, was the school nerd.  He was a weedy boy, short for his age, skinny, and glasses.  They knew each other because they’d grown up in neighboring houses and played together as small children.  Unlike some teen girls, the moment Jill became one of the most popular students in school.  She didn’t disavow her previous connection to Timmy.  Jill remained friends with him, even if they weren’t as close as they once had been.  Besides, Jill liked to study with Timmy, who’s super intelligent and graduated Valedictorian of their year.  Even in college, they always kept in touch.

Timmy’s now studying computer science in a prestigious college, while Jill is majoring in arts at a city art school.  She’s quite an accomplished artist, painting and drawing especially.  Timmy even keeps a painting she did in his dorm room.  Even though they still don’t socialize because their campuses are in different parts of the city, he’d sometimes run into her back at home.  One night during spring break of their first year at college, Timmy runs into Jill outside her parent’s house.

“Hi, Jilly, surprised to see you here on spring break,” Tim said with a smile.

He takes in her scent, her beauty only seems to have grown, and it makes his dick tingle.

“Oh, hey, Timmy, I promised the local art group I’d run some life drawing classes,” she said lightly.  “But, yeah, I’d rather be having fun in Florida with my friends.  How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“How’s your course going?”

“Busy, I’m home cos I’m broke, and dad lined me up some computer repair jobs.”

Jill smiled.  “Yeah, I know how that feels.  Hey, why don’t you model for my group,” she said with raised eyebrows.  “They’ll pay you two hundred dollars for a two-hour session.  The classes are running over the next two weeks, so if you do a few sessions, you could make some nice coin.”

Timmy chortles.  “That’s a lot of money just to stand there to be drawn.”

“Well, there is a catch,” she said with a sly smile.

Timmy rolls his eyes.  “There always is with so-called easy money, what is it?”

“You have to be naked.”

“Phfffft…You have to be kidding,” Timmy said, then grimaced.

“No, I’m not.  It’s nice and casual to do,” Jill said.  “It’s just a group of about ten to fifteen artists.  They like different models as it gives them a range of body types to draw.”

“Where do you find the models?”

“All over the place, really,” Jill explains. “They advertise in the local paper and on art forums. Some even get their friends to come along.  Considering that it pays well for a two-hour session, there’s usually someone happy to do it.”

Timmy feels his body shiver.  “So why are you asking me?”

However, given his current financial position, this does sound appealing if he could bring himself to strip bare in front of strangers.  Timmy has always been self-conscious about his body.

Jill shrugs.  “Cos, we’re short of models this time, and you’re a friend, so I knew you’d be cool about it.  What do you think?  You’d be helping me out of a jam.”

Noooooo, I don’t think so,” he said, shaking his head.  “As much as I need the money, the nude part kinda scares the shit outta me.”

“Hear me out,” Jill said, putting her hand on his arm and moving closer.  “It’s a straightforward job.  You pretty much just strike a few poses and let people draw you.  Two hundred dollars for a couple of hours posing is easy money, Tim.  It’s all very tasteful and discrete too.”

Timmy’s suddenly aware his pulse is faster, and his mouth goes dry as fleeting images of standing naked in a room full of faceless strangers race through his head.  He shuffles on his feet and clears his throat, trying to mask a strange feeling of excitement under his fear.  Jill seems to take Timmy’s silence as her cue to continue.

“The next session is supposed to be tomorrow night, and we still haven’t got a model confirmed,” Jill said.  “I think you should consider it.  You’d be doing the group and me a massive favor.  Rita, who runs the classes, I’m sure, would increase the fee to three hundred dollars for the short notice.”

His eyes widen slightly at the mention of the additional payment.  He hoped Jill might not notice, but she grins back at Timmy, like a shark zeroing in on its prey.

“Think about it,” Jill said, her eyes fixed on his.  “We’ve got until tomorrow afternoon to find a model.  Otherwise, we’ll have to call off the class, and then I won’t get paid either.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Timmy said with a sad smile.

“If we can’t find anyone to do it, I’ll let you know.”

“Fine,” he said with a shrug thinking he’d still say no.

Jill squeezes his arm, says goodnight, and goes into her parent’s home.  Timmy watches her leave, his legs and hands trembling slightly, worried the excitement he feels wasn’t evident to his sexy friend.

There’s no way I can get naked in front of people.  They’ll just laugh at me,’ he thought as he strolled to the front door of his parent’s house.

Timmy had barely set foot through the front door when he felt his cell phone buzz in his pocket. The message is from Jill. ‘I’ve just spoken to Rita about the class.  She’s calling it off anyway since they haven’t found a model,’ it read.  He feels a strange mix of relief and disappointment at the message. It’s short-lived, though.  A second message from Jill lands. ‘I’m going to message Rita now and tell her that you’ll do it.’

There’s a sudden lightness in his chest, and his mouth goes dry.  In all the time he’s known Jill, she’s never been so presumptuous or forceful.  Timmy cannot believe she’s just volunteered his body for an art class.  The message wasn’t asking for permission, Jill was telling him what would happen, and she wanted him to acknowledge it.  Timmy still cannot believe she just volunteered his naked body to a group of locals without caring what he feels about it.

With trembling fingers, Timmy types his two-letter reply, ‘OK.’

*****

The next night, Timmy arrives at the local community center holding the art class.  He’s shaking with nerves and appears at least three shades paler than usual.  Jill, on the other hand, is the picture of calm.  She greets him in the classroom, where twenty easels with a stool behind each are staggered around a small podium about three feet off the floor.  Thick drapes cover the windows so no one can see in from outside.  Jill gives Timmy a warm smile and kiss on the cheek.

“Oh, you’re a rock star for doing this,” Jill chirps.  “The class starts at seven, and people will be arriving soon.”  Seeing how nervous Timmy is and perhaps fearing he’ll back out at the last minute, she said, “I put some beers in your change room to help with the nerves.  You’ll be great, and don’t worry about the nudity we’ve all seen it before, so no one is gonna care about your junk.”

Timmy isn’t nervous about the modeling or being in a room full of locals for the most part.  What has Timmy shaking is the idea of being naked in front of Jill.  Now, as they stand there minutes away from starting, it gives Timmy a huge adrenaline rush when he tries to imagine her reaction to his nudity.  There’s a kind of taboo feeling to this. Even though Jill is not related to him in any way, she still feels like his sister.  So having her gaze at his junk seems naughtier than it is.

Jill turns as someone enters the classroom.  “Oh, hey, Rita, you remember Tim.

Rita is an older woman in her mid-forties with graying long dark hair. She stands taller than Timmy does with large, pendulous breasts and a full figure.  Timmy remembers her as his former high school’s art teacher.

“Oh, Tim,” Rita said, shaking his hand limply.  “So nice to see you.  How’s college treating you?”

“Good thanks, Mrs. Young,” he said, blushing slightly, resorting to his former high school persona.

“Oh, call me Rita,” she said with a smile.  “I’m not your teacher anymore.”

You never were my teacher, really,’ Timmy thought.  “I didn’t realize that you were running this class.”

“I’ve been doing for about five years now,” Rita said, puffing her chest some.  “There’s quite a lot of budding artists in the town.  They’ll be very grateful you’ve stepped up to help out.  We’re all looking forward to having Jill show us some things she’s learned in her degree so far.”

Jill giggles nervously.  “Oh, I’m sure I haven’t learned anything you don’t already know, Rita,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Some others enter carrying bags and those large square art portfolios that have previous drawings in them.

Rita grabbed Timmy’s arm and said, “Why don’t I show you to the changing room.”

“OK,” he said flatly.

Jill said as they left, “Don’t worry, you’ll be great.”

He gives a nervous smile to Jill, who returns it with a wide grin.  Rita leads him through the door to a small room and closes it behind them.  The room has no windows; it seems to be a storage area.  There are some lockers against one wall, a chair, and a table with a white terry-toweling robe lying over it.

“That robe is for you, Tim,” Rita said, pointing to it.  “Just leave all of your clothes, phone, and wallet in one of the lockers.  I’ll lock this room when you come out, so your stuff will be safe.”

Timmy’s stomach is now roiling as the reality of his situation hits home.  “Thanks, Rita,” he said softly, almost breathlessly.

He spots the six-pack of beer and smiles.  Rita notices it too.

“If you’re gonna have some beer, I suggest you pee before you come out,” she said.  “The toilet is a bit further down the hall.”

“OK, good idea,” Timmy said.

Rita nods.  “Yes, we always encourage it with our models anyway.  I’ll let you know when we’re ready for you.”

Without another word, she turns and leaves the room.

*****

The first thing Timmy does is crack a beer and scull it down within a few minutes, and then he opens another and scans the change room.  The room is dingy, the floor is tiled and dirty, and a bare fluorescent tube that occasionally flickers lights it.  On one side of the room is a grimy full-length mirror, the other the lockers, and behind the small table is a pile of cardboard boxes.  Tim takes another swig of beer and starts to undress, his fingers shaking and fumbling over zippers and buttons.

One by one, he dumps his clothes into a locker until he’s left standing in only his tighty-whitey underpants.  Turning to face the grimy mirror, he takes a moment to let the image sink in. There he stands, pale, skinny to the point of bones sticking out, and smooth all over.  He’s nearly naked in a filthy room.  His cheeks are red from the beer and the adrenaline, and his body trembles.  He quickly pulls down his underwear and steps out of them with shaking hands.  Timmy’s heart is racing as he takes in his reflection now.

The teen’s dick is limp, turtle-like, atop smooth shaved balls.  Timmy’s pale skin illuminates the still boyish appearance of his nakedness.  He’s startled back to reality by a sharp knock on the door, and Timmy dives toward the robe wrapping it around his body loosely only a second before Rita swings it open.

“Are you ready?” she pleasantly asks as Timmy turns to put the robe on so she cannot see his genitals.

“I err, just need to pee,” he said, feeling his cheeks burn.

“OK, follow me.”

*****

The classroom that had been empty not long ago is now hosting seventeen artists.  Timmy doesn’t know what he’d been expecting, but as he scans the room, he sees a mixture of men and women, primarily females.  They’re staring at the short teen man with appraising eyes, casting glances up and down his body from face to bare feet.  Timmy locks eyes with Jill, who’s sitting closest to the podium, grinning from ear to ear as she watches the neighbor boy she’s known fifteen years move across the room.

The soft thudding of his bare feet rings in his ears as he crosses the room and the loose tie on the bathrobe threatens to slip at any second.  Rita places a firm hand on his back as she guides him to the far end.  Once they reach the podium, she turns to address the room.

“Hi, everyone, and welcome to the annual life drawing classes here in Newtown,” Rita said warmly and smiling.  “For the next week, we have someone you all know here to teach us.”

There’s some warm applause as they all acknowledge Jill.

“So, I’ll just turn it over to Jill and take my place alongside you,” Rita then turned to the blonde-haired teen and said, “Jill, we’re all yours.”

Jill stands as Rita disappears behind an easel.

“Most of you know the drill,” Jill said nervously. “But we have a couple of newcomers tonight, so welcome.  We’re gonna start with some simple poses and then move to something a little more advanced.  Each pose will last twenty minutes, and we’ll have a short break halfway through.”  Jill turns to address Timmy.  “This is Tim.  He’s our model for the night.”  There’s some applause from the artists.  “Tim, for the first pose, I’d like you sitting on the podium, feet on the floor with your hands resting on your knees.”

Timmy’s heart is now racing so fast a lump has formed in his throat, and he cannot reply.  Instead, he just meekly nods and takes a step toward the podium.  Before he even has a chance to decide what to do with the robe, he feels Jill’s hand on the back of his neck, grabbing it, and the robe slides down to the hemline.  In one smooth motion, Jill grabs the robe again and pulls. The loose tie on the waist offers no resistance as the robe’s swiftly removed from his body.  Timmy almost trips, and as he regains his balance, the shock of what happened suddenly hits him.

He’s now standing naked in a room full of people who have mostly known him all his life.  The teen stands stunned for a moment, his arms dangling limply by his side.  Jill’s now staring intently at him, wide-eyed and mouth open.  Timmy watches as her eyes trace their way over his weedy thin body, stopping to stare directly at his tiny dick and balls.  Then she gazes at his face, and her stupefied expression immediately changes to a smirk.  There’s utter silence in the room as all the artists take in the new model’s body.  No one laughs or jeers, but Timmy feels as if all the eyes in the room are on his tiny dick.  His face burns hotter than it ever has before.

Easing down slowly on trembling legs, Timmy assumes the position that Jill had given him. It’s then he thought he hears a couple of stifled sniggers when he flinches slightly as his butt cheeks meet the cold floor of the podium.  Sitting up straight, he opens his legs and rests his hands on top of his raised knees as instructed.

It utterly exposes his shaved dick and balls to the group in front of him.  Timmy can only imagine how badly he’s blushing as his face feels very hot.  As he scans the room, the teen’s met with numerous smirking faces as the artists stare at his tiny limp dick between his open legs.  His dick is uncut and appears like a small acorn on some small balls.  It doesn’t even really hang; it just sits on top, all wrinkly and gross.  Jill instructs the class to pick up their charcoal and begin.

The next twenty minutes quickly pass as Timmy goes into a trance, the soft scribbling of charcoal broken by whispers and instructions from Jill to the artists.  Jill eventually calls for everyone to stop as it’s time for a new pose.

“Good work, everyone. I like what I see so far,” Jill tells the artists.  “This is a terrific opportunity we have here tonight, thanks to Timmy.  We can draw a naked child’s body here without having a real boy model for us.  Timmy’s body, by proportion, is similar to a nine-year-old boy, so I hope you all show him some true gratitude for being so brave to model for us.”

There’s applause again and nodding.

Timmy is rapidly blinking as he takes in what Jill just said.  First, she’s stopped calling him the adult version of his name ‘Tim,’ and second, Jill just likened his body to a nine-year-old boy.  He wraps his arms around himself, wishing he could just run from the classroom, screaming.

Jill asks, “Would you mind standing for a moment, Timmy?”

He gets to his feet; Jill carries over a pile of pillows and sets them up in the middle of the podium.

“OK, Timmy, now I want you to sit on the pillows, legs parted, and then lay back onto your elbows behind to support your weight.  Can you manage that?”

Timmy nods and gets into the pose, and immediately feels exposed and defenseless.  With his arms behind him and his feet on the floor, Timmy’s tiny dick is thrust pathetically into the air.  He finds it hard to get into a comfortable position, and every little movement causes his small dick to wiggle noticeably.

The only benefit of being in this position is it’s almost impossible to keep his head up, so Timmy can no longer see the sneering faces of the group encircling him.  The next twenty minutes pass slower as he feels the discomfort of the position settle.  Each time he shifts slightly, Timmy can feel his dick give a little wiggle with an accompanying snicker from at least one member of the group.

Despite the mounting pain, Timmy relaxes slightly, no longer feeling embarrassed and starting to tremble with excitement.  Bent over backward, he’s thrusting his tiny dick straight in the direction of Jill, who’s talking to an artist and giving the old woman advice.  Whenever she glances at Timmy, it’s not at his face; it’s always at his tiny dick.

Just when Timmy thought his arms were about to buckle under the pain, Jill suddenly says, “OK, time, everyone.  Great work too.  I think we’ll take a break now, so get some tea or coffee.  There are even some home-baked cookies there, courtesy of Rita.  We went overtime on that pose, so I’m sure our model needs a rest.”

That news elicits a murmuring of delight from the group already familiar with Rita’s excellent baking skills.  Rita comes over and helps Timmy from the podium.  The rest of the room begins standing and making their way to the tea and coffee set up in the back corner of the classroom.

“This is a good chance to go to the toilet, Timmy, and maybe have some more beer if you need it,” Rita said, handing him the robe.

“Can I look at the drawings,” he asks.

“Not now, maybe at the end of the night.  Now get along, Kiddo.”

Before Timmy can make a quick dash to the changing room, Jill cuts him off.  She’s grinning at him, clearly enjoying the revelation of her neighbors ‘little’ secret.  Timmy had a crush on the beautiful young woman for so long now, but now he stands before her, trembling and naked while she leers at his groin.  He feels the sudden urge to cover himself with his hands but resists.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she asks with a smirk.

“Easy for you to say,” Timmy said, bowing his head.

“Well, I hope you didn’t struggle too much with that last pose.  The next round tends to be a little more involved.”

Before he can ask Jill what she means, the blonde-haired woman turns and goes over to the artists sipping their beverages and eating cookies.  Timmy puts on his robe and goes back to the change room.  No one acknowledges him as he passes by, and eventually, the teen skulls another can of beer to calm his nerves.  Sitting in the dirty room, he feels sick.

I know they’re all judging me,’ he thought bitterly.  ‘Jilly thinks I have the body of a nine-year-old, and by that, she means my dickWhy did I ever agree to this?  Oh, I didn’t.  Jilly bullied me into doing it just as per usual.  All my life, she’s been forcing me to do whatever she wants.  Why am I a sucker for it.’

Timmy skulls another can of beer, feeling the dizzy buzz of the alcohol and heads to the toilet to pee again.  As he leaves the bathroom, Rita takes him back to the classroom.

“Time for your next session, Timmy,” she said with a smile.

“How am I going?” he asks with a slight slur to his words.

“You’re doing fine, young man.  Everyone’s enjoying drawing your interesting body.”

“By interesting, you mean child-like?” Timmy asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, don’t sweat it, kiddo.  People come in all shapes and sizes.  Some are big, and some are ‘small,’ like you.”

The sarcasm in her voice was subtle, but Timmy caught it.  He slightly sways as Rita leads him back to the podium.  While before she led him with a hand on his back, she now firmly grips his ass as they move across the room.  The pillows are still in the center, and Rita guides Timmy, so again, he’s leaning back on the heap.  As Timmy sits, he notices there’s now a small mirror propped in front of the podium so he can see his reflection.  Then Jill stands in front of the group, and the room goes quiet.

“OK, let’s keep going, shall we.  Now, we run overtime on the last pose, so we’ve only got time for one more tonight,” Jill said, addressing the group.  Turning to Timmy, she said, “This one is a little more difficult, so I’m going to help you.  Lie back and lift your legs.”

Jill moves around behind Timmy and sits cross-legged. As he leans back, his head comes to rest in her lap; his neck pushes forward, so he’s still facing the group.  Unsure of where Jill is going with this, Timmy lifts his legs with knees pressed together and brings them to his chest.  Jill slides a hand under each of his thighs and pulls them apart.  Timmy lets out a gasp as his knees pull apart, thrusting his crotch toward the group.  He can barely move an inch under Jill’s vice-like grip as she contorts his body into an almost pretzel-like shape.

She leans forward and whispers into Timmy’s ear so only he can hear, “It’s time we give these people a good show.  Why don’t you reach down and spread those cheeks of yours?”

Although it isn’t a question, Timmy feels strangely compelled to comply.  His mind feels foggy and drunk, and a fresh wave of arousal courses through his body.  Sliding his hands to either side of his ass cheeks, he gently grips each one and pulls back. Timmy watches in the mirror as his cheeks part offering the slightest glimpse of his puckered asshole.

“You can do better than that,” Jill said, slightly louder this time, “open yourself up.”

Timmy’s heart is racing as he adjusts his grip.  Holding tighter as Jill lets him slide a little down the pile of cushions, he pulls back as far as I can.  The view in the mirror in front of Timmy is obscene.  With his heavy eyelids and blushing face, he’s spread utterly open for the whole room.  Timmy’s tight little asshole is so spread it’s in danger of opening as he desperately tries to clench it against the pull of his hands.  Now he has the position.  Jill slides out from beneath Timmy and shoves pillows under his neck to keep his head up.

He then sees Rita staring at him wide-eyed.  Coming to her senses, Rita picks up a pencil and starts to sketch, but she’s barely glancing at the canvas as she internalizes the image of Timmy naked.  Against all Timmy’s willpower, he feels his tiny dick starting to get hard.  His little dick twitches as it slowly stiffens and points toward his face.  An intense wave of humiliation washes over him as his dickie reaches its total hardness of three inches and stands straight out like a little arrow pointing to his chest.  Rita’s biting her bottom lip as her hand moves blindly across the paper in front, never breaking eye contact with his body.

Jill glances over and sees the tiny boner and smiles.  “Wow, this a real treat tonight,” she said to the artists, all busily drawing away.  “The trick here is to make sure you capture the erection in such a way that the observer will know it’s erect.  With a penis this small, this can be a challenge.”

Timmy relaxes and slides back a little more, though never loosening his grip.  The alcohol did its job in making him fully compliant.  He feels in a haze as he lies there entirely on show, wondering what’ll happen next.  The teen doesn’t recall how much time passed when Rita came over and told him to relax now.  As the older woman pulls Timmy to his feet, he wobbles on shaky legs, his tiny dick still hard as steel.  Rita pats him on the back and thanks him for his participation, but Timmy’s still too dazed to reply.  He feels a strange regret that the night seems to be over.

As the art class begins packing and pulling on jackets to leave, Timmy stands by the podium.  One-by-one they come up and thank him before turning to leave.  By the time Jill arrives, his tiny dick has wilted back to its normal state, and the haze around his head begins to clear.

“You did great,” she said with a grin.  “Go, get dressed, and I’ll take you home.”

 

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