PolygonCactus : A Highschooler's Summer Job (m/m)

[Soraka]

Note: I posted this story as an request, I unfortunately was only able to find part 1, 2 and 10. Feel free to add the missing chapters if you're able to find them!

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by PolygonCactus » Mon Jan 12, 2015 12:58 am

I write so many stories in my less appropriate Google Drive, but never finish them . I've posted the first part of this one, hopefully I can get a good story written. ... Ahh yes, this is based off "The 12 Trials of Harrison" [f/m] which I really liked (even though I'm not a plan of f) thus I'm writing my own ("similar but different") story here (no it won't be anywhere near a word by word repeat).

Almost everything, if you're one of those people who doesn't just skip past the character introductions and *insert in current crush*: for me, the main character in this story, Hamish, is modeled of Tatsumi from Night Raid. I like his fashion sense and he’s absolutely adorable . https://www.google.com/search?q=Tatsumi+Akame&tbm=isch

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“She even offered to pay you $10 a visit Hamish!”

“Mum it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“Embarassing!” I finished rubbing my temples, since the start of the term holidays, a week ago, Mum had been bugging me about looking after these kids.

“What’s so embarrassing about it! All Katherine asked is that you look in on her son while she’s away and make sure he’s ok, he’s your age! You can play video games!”

‘That’s why it’s embarrassing.” despite my complaining she didn’t seem to understand why it was embarrassing to be sent as a proxy-parent to a 15 year old’s house.

“Well, whatever it is, it’s final, you’re going to visit right now in fact. This argument has worn me out, so you’re on your own - take your bike.”

Recognising the finality of Mum’s tone I nodded and headed off to get dressed.

Unlike many guys (and girls) my age, I wasn’t too unhappy with my body. I was slim, with strong brown hair, which kept itself in an unruly but good looking shape, often coming down between my eyebrows. I wasn’t very muscly, but that was my fault, yet abs could still be lightly seen due to my lack of a belly. If there was anything to be annoyed at, I was short, reaching to a little under 160cm (~5”).

Knowing that I’d have to cycle, I pulled on a slim fitting pair of jeans and appropriate shoes. My favorite white T-Shirt had a few light orange stripes, and fit snugly on my chest, finally I put on a thin black hoody, leaving it unzipped.

The kid I was looking after was named Zac, like me he lived in a dense neighbourhood of detached houses. It wasn’t the American dream - large lawns, symmetrical houses and wide, black roads, but I liked living there. The cobble paths that wound through the neighbourhood were often to thin for cars, but great for bicycles, and even though the houses were a tad small, we could all walk to anywhere of note.

Finding the house, I walked through a little vegetable garden and knocked on the door.
“Who’re you?”

A blond had appeared at the door, taller with a larger frame than me.

“I’m Hamish, err, I was sent to check you’re ok.”

He didn’t look happy to see his “babysitter” either.

“Erm, well, you look ok, so I’ll go then?”

Suddenly his demeanor changed, “No, no. Come in Hamish, do you like coffee?” he swept open the door and vanished back into the house.

Following him I came to a kitchen, connected to the living room. Zac was already preparing a coffee at the table.

“Please. Sit.” Zac smiled, waving towards a couch facing the TV.

Perched on the couch, not really wanting to stay, I turned to face him. “So what you do around here, it seems a bit boring?”

“Not much really. I’ve got a part time job on the internet for money.”

“What, like one of those work for home ads?”

He laughed lightly, “Nah, I do graphic design.”

Nodding as if I understood what that entailed, I turned back to idly watch the TV.

A moment later he sat down beside me, setting down two coffees.

“Hey, did my mum happen to mention why you’re ‘checking up on me’?”

“No.” I grimaced, sipping at my coffee. Coffee wasn’t something I enjoyed.

“Ahh.”

“Now I need to know. Why am I looking after you?”

“Should I tell you?” He was grinning, enjoying this.

“Well you see, I was tying myself up.”

I spat out my coffee, laughing.

“You make up weird stories. Anyway, I should be going home.” I’d never been found of people who make things up, it’s just not fun to talk about something you know is false.

“Why don’t you believe my story?”

“No sane person would tell someone they’d just met that. Anyway even if it is true, I’d rather not walk in on it.”

“You won’t.”

“Don’t get so cocky, I might come at different times.”

“So you want to catch me like that then.”

I blushed. I’ve never blushed before. I do not blush. “No. Stop twisting my words. I’m leaving.”

“Anyway, I wasn’t being so cocky, I plan to stop.”

“Regretting your lies now?”

“No, I’ve just found something better to do.”

“I honestly don’t care.” I said, getting up from the couch and heading back towards the front door. Zac climbed off the couch, as if to see me go.

“You really should.” Smartly, he stepped forward, leading his right foot in front of me, then with he reached out and shoved me. I fell forward into the rug.

I tried to push myself up with my arms, or even turn over, but then he was onto me. I collapsed back onto my chest, my hands trapped underneath me and unable to get up with Zac straddling me from behind.

“How about I tie you up, if you get out you can leave, if not then I must have experience, thus am not lying - and I win.”

“Gah -- get off me.” I tried to pull myself out from underneath him or at east free my arms.

“Nope.” he pushed his finger around my shoulders and under my neck, tracing it along the front of my chest.

“Fu- let me-” breaking down in hysterics I begged for him to stop.
“Tie up game?”

To this day I still don’t know what made me open my mouth and gasp “Ye- Yes!”

[Soraka]

by PolygonCactus » Sat Jan 17, 2015 12:53 am

Chapter 2

Zachary’s legs were clamped firmly around my back, he’d stopped tickling me and I’d stopped struggling but I’d spent the last ten minutes lying here quietly, stuck like this.

“Um Zac?”

“Mmmm… be quiet… I’m thinking.”

“About what?”

“Well what to do with you” he paused “that should work. Will you keep up your end of the bargain and wait here?”

“Bargain implies I get something in return, but alright.”

He got up off me, keeping a hand on the small of my back. “Wait here. Don’t move an inch.”

Complying I lied with my face down, hearing him walk around the room, his footsteps faded a bit, then the sound of a tap running, before he returned. A coldness appeared on the top of my back.

“It’s a cup of water, don’t move.” He padded off again.

Still lying with my face against the floor, I realized that with my hands trapped underneath me the way they were there would be now way to get the glass off me without knocking it over.

I lied very still, listening to Zach rummaging around in the neighbouring rooms.

My arms began to ache. Hurry up Zac. A slight tickling began in my left shoulder. I resisted the urge to itch it. Hurry up

My arm felt like it was going to cramp. I haven’t been lying here that long have I?

Ever so slightly I moved my arm. With a crash the glass cup fell off me, bouncing around, cold water spraying across my back and the top of my trousers.

Laughter filled the room as Zac took that exact moment to reappear.

“I’m impressed you lasted that long. Come on.” He walked over to me. “You might want to get that jacket off first, it could get cold.”

Now sitting on the floor I nodded and pulled it off, but the water had already spread to the shirt underneath.

“Here, let me help.” He kneeled down in front of me and grabbed the shirt pulling it off.

“Hey!” I tried to stop him, allowing the shirt to get tangled in my arms.

“Oi! Sit still.” Zac pushed his knees forward into my lap, stopping my attempt to stand backup.

Finally he ripped off the T-Shirt. “Alright, lets go.” He threw the shirts over a windsill and led me out of the room.

A blast of heat hit me as I entered the dim bedroom, presumably Zac’s.

Sensing my discomfort Zac began “Ahh, sorry, I forgot to open the window this morning and haven’t been back in.” as he opened the window a crack, still leaving the blinds closed.

“Lie down there” Zac indicated to the bed.

I did so, noticing that he’d tied ropes in various patterns across the bed. It was a double bed and I realized that he’d tied an X across it, except it had been cut across the horizontal middle so there was about a torso worth of space there, with a vertical rope running between the two halves - clearly meant for my back. This seems pretty clever, maybe he wasn’t lying? I considered it…

Zach meanwhile began to nudge me into position, before stretching my arms out along the top half of the X. Here he tied the wrists down.

Then he athletically leaped back onto my crotch and began to straddle my - now half naked - form again.

I closed my eyes to save myself the embarrassment as he continued working. A rope came from either side of my upper torso, they wrapped around each other once in the middle and then tied over my shoulders. Another went across my chest and two more on each of my arms.

He tugged at the ropes, and, satisfied that my upper body was secure, moved to my lower body.

“Hmmm, it appears you got your trousers wet as well.” He began to fumble with the zip.

Realizing what was about to happen my face turned red “Hey don’t!” I began to struggle, feeling the ropes as they bit into my skin from all sides.

I tried to kick my legs, but he was already pulling the trousers down, resulting in my legs becoming tangled. “Gah”

“Not so fast” Zac teased, he sat down on one leg and disentangled the other, from where he was sitting he could easily tie the other into it’s position. Then he forced the other away and tied it to, completing the X position.

Zac towered over me as I continued to squirm in my bonds, wearing nothing more than a pair of socks and boxers. Slowly he reached his hand towards my sock, gently rubbing the underside of my foot.

Every rope grabbed me as I tried to kick out, bursting into a fit of badly suppressed giggles.

As I recovered, he softly climbed onto the bed, kneeling over me. With his knees straddling my sides he placed his hands beside my head and leaned down to bring his face to mine.

“You’ve got 30 minutes to get out. You’re not going to make any fuss are you?” he whispered.

Acutely aware of his hot breath hitting my face, I shook my head “N-no.”

Zac vanished from the room without a sound. I collapsed back into my bonds, suddenly exhausted. I didn’t even try to struggle, I knew I wasn’t getting out. I was completely at Zachary’s mercy.

[Soraka]

by PolygonCactus » Tue Oct 11, 2016 1:14 am

Chapter 10

“Can I get some proper clothes on now?” I began to step gingerly out of the tub, not wanting to slip again.

A warm hand appeared on my chest, pushing me back.

“I like it the way it is.” quipped Zach, shit eating grin back on his face, “you need to shower and clean off all the loose hai - ahh shit, I forgot.”

Zach grabbed my arm and undid the strap that was still fastened around my wrist.

“Oh it looks really weird.” I ran my eyes along the wrist he was holding, there was a stripe of hair underneath the strap that neither of us had shaved.

In the end Zach finished up the extra shaving, then he turned on the detachable shower head and paused to let it run warm.

“I can do it.” I tried to grab at the showerhead.

He pushed me again, this time with more force and down on my shoulders, driving me back into the bath tub.

“Yeah I’m sure you can, but I will.”

Zac used the showerhead to rinse off my skin, rubbing it with his hands to dislodge the occasional hair. It wasn’t as embarrassing as when he’d applied the shaving cream but it was a close second.

He insisted on drying me as well, which was again completely un-necessary. In fact, once I was dry, I was almost expecting him to pick me up and carry me, instead of beckoning for me to climb out of the tub and follow him.

As I did so I couldn’t help brush my skin, it was still rough with stubble but also unrecognisably bare and, to the eye, very smooth. I caught a glance of myself in the mirror as well, I was still wearing the ankle and wrist restraints, D-rings dangling loose. I wondered if mum would notice my bare arms and legs.

I ended up back in Zac’s room, watching as he rummaged through his hangers.

“We’re going out to do some shopping,” he announced.

“Not in this I’m not!”

“Yeah, the weather’s turned as well. I’m picking out appropriate clothes for you.”

“Appropriate clothes” turned out to be a familiar piece of Zach’s closet, the wetsuit he’d made me cycle home in once.

“No”

“You can wear your clothes over it of course.”

I stared at him, weighing up the option.

“Come on, no one will know and it’s cold out.”

“..”

“I’ll buy you lunch.”

Eventually, Zac talked me into pulling on the wetsuit (he turned away while I slipped off the speedo), after which he reappeared with some wetsuit boots as well.

Over that I pulled on a borrowed pair of his jeans (I’d came in shorts), my trainers, a T-Shirt (luckily I hadn’t worn a V-Neck) and a borrowed jacket to hide the long arms of the wetsuit.

In all fairness, if I’d really remembered the last time Zac had put me in a wetsuit I probably wouldn't have came. I realized this once we set off, in the brisk air. First the wetsuit was pretty tight, and not really meant for a lot of movement when dry- I could feel it constantly grind and pull as it stretched, and second, despite it being cold, I quickly began to warm up and sweat under the wetsuit.

What’s more it felt completely different without my body hair. My skin was naturally much more sensitive, and I could constantly feel the wetsuit as it ran over my skin in different directions.

Zach set a furious pace (probably only to annoy me) and by the time we arrived at the local tram station I was beginning to get red faced. The pulling and pinching of the wetsuit had subsided, to be replaced by the awareness of slippery sweat forming rivers down my back, sides, legs, and into the wetsuit boots.

The ride towards the downtown shopping precinct took a good 15 minutes, during which I cooled down quite a bit. This turned out to make the whole experience even more unpleasant, as I could feel cold sweat sandwiched between me and the wetsuit. I also began to worry about the smell, luckily it was off peak and the carriage was quiet and well ventilated.

In town Zach walked me to the first clothes store and we started browsing. Well rather, he browsed, and I tried not to feel to conspicuous with a steamer wetsuit under my clothes.

Then I turned around and he was gone. I panicked for a moment. Had Zachary ditched me in town? Stuck in a cold and clammy wetsuit?

“Hey Hamish!”

I spun around and saw him, emerging from the changing rooms. He had his shirt and jacket in one hand, instead he was wearing a low hanging singlet, leaving his armpits and sides exposed.

“What do you think?” he did a little spin.

That more or less set the pace of the day, periods of me anxious adjusting my clothes, worried the wetsuit was showing. Frequent swings between either being far too hot, or feeling clammy sweat all over my body. All interrupted by Zach’s fashion choices.

The only particularly memorable one was when we visited a sports store. Zach appeared wearing his shoes sockless and nothing else but a tight, one-piece triathlon lycra suit. I didn’t stare.

Eventually we sat down to lunch, a cheap little sandwich joint jammed in between two clothing stores. Zach had thought ahead and bought a water bottle for me, which was lucky as I lapped down liquid to replace all the sweat I was losing in the hot wetsuit. The downside of this was that by the time we got to the cafe I really needed to relieve myself.

After excusing myself from the table I headed to the rear of the cafe, where a little bathroom was stationed. Much to my relief it didn’t have partitions, but proper walls separating the space. I secluded myself in a bathroom and began to undress. Going for a piss was much more difficult in the wetsuit, in addition to lowering the borrowed pair of jeans I had to take off the jacket and shirt, hang them on the hook, then unzip the wetsuit from behind.

As I peeled the sweaty neoprene down from my body I was assaulted by a wave of odour from all the sweat. Wanting to recontain it in the wetsuit ASAP I began to rush the task of pushing down the wetsuit and urinating into the toilet.

My skin was cold and clammy, covered in sweat, but as I began to piss I made a fatal mistake. A stream of piss hit the front inside of the wetsuit, dangling from around my legs.

By the time I corrected the mistake I could already see a substantial dark spot in the wetsuit (well, darker than the wetsuit already was from my sweat).

“Fuck”

After finishing I assessed the situation. I tried wiping the suit dry with a paper towel, but it had absorbed quickly into the material. I could take it off, but then I’d have to carry it back with me and I wasn’t at all prepared for the weather without it. Not to mention it would stink if I Iet air circulate through.

Eventually I accepted my fate and began to pull the wetsuit up again. It had gone cold since I’d taken it half off, with the exception of the patch of warm urine now pressing against my chest. I tried not to think about it and continued to pull up on the zip.

After that it was just a matter of trying not to think about the incident as I ate lunch opposite Zac, who seemed completely oblivious to my problems.

Once I was done he led us out of the store and back through the streets, much to my relief he appeared to be heading back to the local station. After a day trying to keep cool in a full body wetsuit, I was too exhausted to stress about other people on the tram.

I was a little surprised when Zach bid me farewell at our station, but I suppose I couldn’t have stayed forever.

“You can keep the wetsuit.”

“Really? I can give it back.”

“Nah, it looks great on you.” he gave me a slap on the behind and began to walk off, leaving me desperately checking for gaps that could be showing the wetsuit.

Without my partner in crime, walking home in the wetsuit left me feeling rather exposed. As if I was no longer under a dare or something from him, but doing it of my own weird compulsion. Strangely though this had me excited, in fact I almost found myself wanting to step behind a tree and take off some clothes. I wondered if I could jog past someone without the jacket, surely they’d assume I’m just wearing a black undershirt?

Thankfully I didn’t live out any of those bizarre fantasies, and better yet I got home to find an empty house.

In my room I did strip down to the wetsuit, before collapsing down into my soft bed. I couldn’t believe it had barely been 24 hours since I left, it felt like a lot had happened.

I rubber the wetsuit absent mindedly, feeling the texture and friction. It was actually surprisingly nice of Zach to let me have it; I hoped mum wouldn’t comment on the new addition to my wardrobe!

-

Well, all that exhausting walking (trust me, wetsuits become saunas real quick when you're stuck in them) and Hamish has forgotten about what's in the wetsuit, he's in for a surprise!

Probably approaching the end on this story, although I have an idea to write some one/two-shots which will definitely need to find a place in the intimate or PG-17 sections .