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Chapter 3: Jon's Second
Photo-shoot After the excitement of the weekend, Bryan’s life quickly settled back into the usual routine. Though there had been one or two notable exceptions to this. One of these had been the row he had had with his mother about the £100 he had earned from his first photo-shoot. She had insisted, quite vehemently, that everything that Bryan earned from modelling should be invested for his future. Bryan had taken the view that it was his money and that he should be able to do with it whatever he wanted. After considerable arguing, both of them gave a little ground, with his mother saying he could keep 10% of anything he earned and invest the rest, and Bryan holding out for 50%. After that, they both dug their heels in and it looked as though they were set for a serious fight. Eventually, Bryan’s father had come up with a compromise. He suggested that Bryan be allowed to keep all of this first £100, plus a quarter of everything else he earned, the remainder being invested for him, with the added condition that this arrangement could be changed if there came a time when Bryan started making big money. Anne Wallace had shot her husband a disgusted look, but had finally agreed, leaving Bryan feeling as though he had done quite well out of the deal. The only other problems had come from Robert, who continued to take every available opportunity to tease Bryan about his modelling.
Then, on Wednesday, Bryan arrived home from school to find a large, brown envelope on the table waiting for him.
“Damian called by earlier and dropped it off for you,” the boy’s mother said, glancing back over her shoulder as she prepared the evening meal. “He didn’t say what was in it, though he did ask about you going over to the studio on Saturday afternoon to sit in during Jon’s shoot. I told him that would be fine.”
“Yeah, no problem,” Bryan agreed, only half listening as he tore open the envelope. He pulled out a small pile of large photographs and a note. The note read “These are a selection of prints from the pictures we chose to include in your first set. Check out the website tonight to see the full selection. Hope to see you on Saturday. Damian.” The boy flicked through the pictures, hardly able to believe that he was the subject; these were really good.
“What you got there, Bryan?”
The thirteen-year-old glanced up to see that his dad had just arrived home from work. “Damian dropped off some prints from my first shoot,” said the boy.
“Oh? Let’s see.” The man put his case and jacket down on a chair and came to stand behind Bryan, reaching down over the boy’s shoulder to take some the pictures. “These are really great,” he said, looking through them. “Have you seen them, Anne?”
“Not yet,” the boy’s mother replied. “He’s only just opened them. I’ll look in a minute; I don’t want this to burn.” She returned to stirring the contents of a saucepan.
“Damian really has done a terrific job,” Bryan’s dad said. “We’re going to have to put some of these in frames.”
“Dad! I don’t want them displayed all over the place,” Bryan objected.
“Why not?” the man asked. “I want everyone to see my good-looking son.”
“Dad!” Bryan could feel colour rising to his face.
“And I wonder where he got his good looks from,” the boy’s mother said, over her shoulder.
“Well, partly from you, dear,” the man replied, moving up behind his wife. “But I would like to think that I played at least a small part in it.” He put his arms around the woman and kissed the back her neck and she squirmed and giggled girlishly.
Bryan pulled a disgusted face. “I’m going up my room,” he said. “Call me when dinner is ready.”
After they had eaten, Bryan’s dad turned on the family’s computer and logged into the Boys On View website. Bryan found it a little embarrassing, sitting next to his father while they cycled through the pictures, particularly the ones where he had his shirt open or completely off, and strangely, these were the ones the man would pause on for the longest.
“You really do look great in these, Bryan,” the man said.
“He looks like a dork,” said Robert, who had come quietly up behind them. “Though I expect he’ll have all the old pervs drooling over him and fantasising about getting their dirty little hands on him.” He pulled a face and wiggled his fingers suggestively.
Their father gave the older boy a cold look. “Why can’t you ever say anything nice?”
“Why should I get excited just because little Bryan’s had his picture taken with his shirt off?”
“I’m not suggesting you get excited,” the man replied. “But you could try giving him some encouragement instead of trying to put him down all the time.”
“You mean like the way you are with me?”
Their father gave a sigh. “I don’t try to put you down. I’d love to have a reason to be proud of you, but you seem to go out of your way to avoid giving me one.”
“Yeah, sure. So I need to go pose for the pervs before you can be proud of me?”
“For goodness sake, stop it Robert. Just stop being nasty to everyone all the time and start acting like a decent human being; that’s all it would take.”
“Oh, forget it.” Robert stormed away.
Bryan had tried to ignore the exchange. Confrontations between his dad and his brother were fairly common and always ended with Robert storming out. This one had been fairly mild.
“Take no notice of him, Bryan,” the man said. “He’s seventeen and thinks he has the problems of whole world on his shoulders. I’ll bet anything that he’s secretly proud of you, even though he would never admit it; and I am definitely so proud of you.” He put his arm around the boy’s shoulders and, giving him a hug, he kissed him lightly on the cheek.
Bryan blushed and felt a warm glow of happiness. At thirteen, he felt he was getting a little old for hugs and kisses from his parents, but he was unable to deny that he still liked to receive them.
Bryan got his mother to drop him at the entrance to the office building. She’d suggested parking the car and accompanying him up to the Boys On View suite, but he insisted that he could manage on his own. She’d muttered something about him getting too independent for his own good, but had relented, telling him to give her a call on his mobile and let her know what time he wanted to be picked up.
As the boy stepped out of the lift and entered the agency’s front office, he reflected that it hardly seemed like a full week since he was last here.
Carol looked up at him from her usual position at the reception desk. “Hi Bryan,” the young woman greeted him, giving a warm smile. “How’s our new star today?”
It took Bryan a moment to work out what she was talking about, and then he gave a shy grin. “Oh, you mean the pictures on the website. You’ve seen them?”
“Yes, I’ve seen them,” she said. “And you look amazing. Come over here a minute. Before you go up to the studio, there’s something I want you to do for me.” She pulled a brown folder out of a drawer and opened it on the desk. As Bryan stepped closer he saw that the folder contained a large print of one of the pictures from his online photoset. It was a picture of him from the school uniform set and he was standing with his thumbs hooked into his belt, holding his shirt open, his loose tie hanging down over his bare chest. “I’d like you to sign this for me,” said Carol. “I try to get signed prints from all the boys, and after seeing your pictures I definitely want one of you. You are seriously cute.”
Bryan felt his face heating up. He lowered his head to try to hide the fact that he was blushing. “What do you want me to put?” he asked, accepting the pen that Carol held out towards him.
“Just ‘Love from Bryan’ will do nicely,” the woman smiled. “Put it down here in this bottom corner. You’re going to have to get used to signing these; I understand there have already been a lot of requests.”
Bryan wrote the brief message across the corner of the print, adding a couple of small crosses underneath.
“Thanks, Bryan, you’re a sweetheart.” Carol took the boy’s face between her hands and kissed him on the cheek.
The thirteen-year-old was in a daze as he made his way up the stairs and entered Damian’s studio. He closed the door behind him and just stood there, a wide grin on his face.
Damian, who had been working at his computer, looked up at the boy, a little puzzled, and then he too grinned. “Let me guess; Carol caught you on the way in?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s hopeless,” Damian laughed. “A flash of bare chest and she’s anybody’s.”
“She wanted me to sign a picture.”
“And what did she give you in return?” Damian gave the boy a knowing look.
“She gave me a kiss.”
“I bet she did.” The photographer gave a shake of his head. “Get yourself over here. You’ve got some more pictures to sign, and these will earn you a bit more than a kiss.”
Under Damian’s supervision, Bryan added his name onto the corner of each of a small pile of photographs. He noted that at least half of them were copies of the same print that he had signed for Carol, and most of the rest were various poses of him in the beach shorts. He had almost finished the task when Jon arrived.
The dark haired boy had a scowl on his face. He did manage a sort of smile for Damian and Bryan, but it was extremely forced and, after some prompting from Damian, he admitted that he’d had a big row with his sister, Rachel, in the car on the way over, though he refused to say what about.
“You’re not much good to me with that miserable expression on your face,” Damian pointed out. “I hope you’re going to cheer up a bit before we start.”
“Sorry,” Jon apologised. “I’ll be alright in a minute. I saw you on the website, Bryan. You look good.”
“Thanks,” said Bryan. “The pictures turned out far better than I thought they would.”
“You mean you expected them to be bad?” asked Damian. “I’m insulted.”
“That’s not what I meant,” said Bryan, quickly.
“I know, I was teasing,” said Damian. “Oh, before I forget, are you both available tomorrow afternoon?”
Bryan nodded. “I think so.”
“Yeah,” Jon agreed. “We never do anything on Sundays. Dad usually falls asleep in front of the TV after he’s had his lunch.”
“Great, because the weather forecast is good, so I thought we’d do an outdoor shoot with the two of you together. Nothing fancy; just generally playing around, climbing trees, with maybe a bit of wrestling on the grass. The punters love that sort of thing. I’ll pick you up sometime after two o’clock.”
“Wrestling?” Jon looked dubious.
“Yes, don’t look so worried. I’m not intending to stick the pair of you in a ring and have you go ten rounds; I want you to have fun. If you’re having a good time, it will come through in the pictures.”
“I suppose,” Jon agreed, still not looking convinced.
“Trust me,” said Damian, smiling broadly. He went over and pulled the polythene dust-sheeting from Jon’s rail and began thoughtfully flicking through the hangers. “We’d better sort out what we’re going to do today,” he said. “I think we’ll go for three sets; a smart casual one, a novelty one, and finish off with the Lycra shorts.”
Bryan gave a start as he heard this last part. He remembered the sets he had seen on the website with boys in skin tight shorts that showed every detail and contour. He was still adamant that there was no way he would allow himself to be photographed in anything that revealing. He glanced at Jon, but the slim, dark-haired boy did not appear at all phased and stood waiting as Damian took clothes from the rail.
“These will do the job,” said the photographer. He handed Jon a textured, cream-coloured shirt and grey trousers. Get changed into those, while I sort the camera out. Bryan, you can be the official clothes folder; it’s your job to keep the clothes straight as Jon takes them off.” He gave the boy a grin.
“Thanks,” said Bryan, sarcastically. “I knew there had to be a reason you wanted me here today.”
“Of course,” Damian responded. “You don’t think I got you to come in just because you’re cute and I like to look at you, do you?”
Bryan stuck out his tongue at the man, giggled, and went over to Jon who had already started getting undressed.
Jon stripped all the way down to his underwear, a pair of fairly brief, black shorts. He gave Bryan a shy smile as he handed over his trousers and reached for the shirt he was to put on. Bryan noted that the Jon’s body was leaner than his own and his skin was pale as if it had not been exposed to the sun. Jon was also a couple of inches taller, which probably contributed to his slimmer appearance.
As Bryan turned his attention to Jon’s trousers, folding them carefully, the studio door suddenly crashed open and a rather chubby, middle-aged man stormed in.
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” the man shouted, glaring at Damian and completely ignoring the two boys.
Damian looked at the man, obviously surprised at this intrusion. “Is there a problem, Eric?” he asked, calmly.
“Don’t play the fucking innocent with me,” the man snarled. “You know damn well that there’s a problem.”
“Eric, I’m doing a shoot at the moment, and I’d prefer that you moderated both your tone and your language in front of these boys. I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. I suggest you go away, calm down, and maybe sober up a bit as well, and if you still think there’s a problem then we can discuss it when I’m done here.”
“Don’t you start giving me your fucking orders,” the man roared. “You’re a nobody; you’ve only been here five minutes. You might be Sean’s little golden boy, but that doesn’t impress me. And don’t try and act all innocent; I’m talking about Danny Barlow.”
“Danny?” Damian looked genuinely confused. “I spoke to him briefly this morning, but we only talked about Bryan’s sets on the website.”
“You mean you talked to him about transferring over to you. He’s already been in to see Sean about it.”
Damian blinked with surprise and then his expression hardened. “I have never spoken to Danny or to any other boy about anything like that. You know as well as I do that Sean won’t transfer a boy without a very good reason. What did Sean say to Danny?”
“Sean told him he couldn’t transfer.”
“Well there you go then.”
“That’s not the point. Where did Danny get the idea to go to Sean if not from you?”
“Maybe you’d be better asking yourself that question,” said Damian, coldly. “If you started taking better care of your boys instead spending most of your time drunk, then maybe they wouldn’t want to leave you.”
“I do alright by my boys,” Eric blustered. “Danny’s been the top earner for the past six months running.”
“There’s more to this business than money, Eric. You’re pushing Danny and the others in order to feed your habit. Take a long hard look at yourself. You’re heading for the gutter. Don’t take those boys with you; they deserve better.”
“I was in this business while you were in still in short trousers,” Eric sneered. “Don’t try to tell me how to do my job.”
“I was still in short trousers when I started in the business myself,” said Damian, with a tight smile. “And I’ve seen men like you come and go. Maybe it’s time I did go and speak to Sean about you, before someone ends up getting badly hurt.”
“You go ahead,” Eric sneered. “See how far you get. I bring more money into this company than all the rest of you put together. You think Sean’s going to get rid of me, however much he might think about you? You might have kept him warm in bed, pretty-boy, but it’s me who fills his bank account.”
“I think you’d better get out.” Damian’s lips were pressed together in a tight, angry line.
“I’m going,” said Eric, with a short laugh. “I’ll leave you to play at being a photographer. Keep practising and maybe one day you’ll be ready to work with the professionals.” He turned and walked out of the door, moving a little unsteadily.
Damian stood motionless for a moment, his face a blank mask, and then he crossed to the door and closed it. When he turned back to face the two frightened boys he was his usual calm, confident self. “Don’t worry about that, guys,” he said, smiling as though nothing had happened. “Eric is one the more colourful characters around here. He gets a bit over excited sometimes.”
Bryan swallowed hard. He hadn’t understood much about what had been said, but two things stuck out in his mind. One was the memory of his brief conversation with Danny in the showers the previous week, and the second was Eric’s comment about Damian keeping Sean warm in bed. After a moment’s thought, he dismissed the comment about Damian and Sean; the guys at school often accused each other of doing gay stuff, especially when they were mad with each other, like Eric had been with Damian. The other thing, though, couldn’t be so easily dismissed. “Damian, there’s something I need to tell you,” he said, nervously. He quickly told the man what Danny had said to him about him being lucky that Damian was his mentor, and that Danny was going to go see Sean about getting himself transferred. The boy finished with an apology that he hadn’t told Damian about it earlier.
Damian listened and then gave a smile and a shrug. “Don’t worry about it, Bryan. It wouldn’t have made any difference if you had told me. There’s not a lot I could have done about it. Anyway, time’s getting on. Let’s forget about that little scene and concentrate on what we need to do.”
It didn’t take long for Jon to finish dressing, but it took much longer for Damian to finish tidying the boy up. The photographer spent ages making sure Jon’s clothes looked just right, arranging his hair and, finally, adding a light dusting of powder to his face. Jon endured the attention with seemingly endless patience, but by the time they were ready for the pictures, Bryan was starting to get bored.
“I hope you’re paying attention,” Damian said to Bryan. “Because eventually I’d like the two of you to be able to help each other with some of this preparation. That would save us a lot of time.”
“Well, I was sort of watching,” Bryan replied, guiltily, even though in truth he had been wandering down the clothes rail looking at the different outfits.
Damian gave a laugh. “I know it’s boring, but you’ll have to get used to it. Ninety percent of photographic modelling is standing around waiting. That’s one of the reasons I’d like to get you more involved with the preparation; it’s something to keep you interested. I think we’re about ready now to get some pictures.”
After all the preparation, the actual photography seemed to take no time at all, though there was a slight delay at one point when Jon got a fit of the giggles and accused Bryan of making him laugh. Damian took it all in his stride, and even ended up laughing along with the two boys.
There were no shirtless shots in the first set; Damian explained that there would be plenty of these in the other two sets. As soon as they were done, the photographer took Jon back over to the rail to select his next outfit.
Set number two was what Damian had called a “novelty set” and the outfit consisted of black, formal trousers and a black waistcoat, but no shirt. Shiny black shoes and a black walking cane completed the effect. They started the set with the waistcoat fastened, but after a few shots Jon was asked to undo the buttons and let the garment hang open. Lots of different poses followed, making full use of the cane as a prop; Jon was asked to hold it with both hands stretched up over his head, behind his back, over his shoulder, even down between his legs as he leaned forwards over it. Then they dispensed with the cane and Damian took a variety of pictures with Jon holding the waistcoat open to display his whole upper body, including a couple where he was asked to put his hands flat on his chest and look seductive. This latter caused a fair amount of hilarity, since Jon obviously didn’t have a clue how to look “seductive”. Bryan made a couple of ‘helpful’ suggestions, which mainly involved puckered lips, and this set all three of them off laughing again.
“OK, I think we’ve exhausted the possibilities of this one,” said Damian. “Let’s move onto the final set.” Going to the rail, he returned with a pair of yellow and blue Lycra cycling shorts. “These are really tight,” he explained. “So your underwear is going to have to come off before you put them on.”
Jon eyed the garment for a moment, then gave a shrug and began to take off his clothes.
As Jon undressed, Bryan stood by him, accepting the boy’s clothing and making a rudimentary attempt at folding it before putting it onto the table. However, his attention wasn’t really on what he was doing; he was watching Jon, though he was trying not to be too obvious about it.
It took only a few moments for Jon to strip down to his black shorts. He appeared to hesitate for just a fraction of a second and then he pushed them down and stepped out of them, handing them to Bryan before turning to Damian to accept the Lycra shorts he was to put on.
“Stand still a minute,” said Damian, holding onto the Lycra. His gaze moved critically up and down Jon’s naked body. “Turn around for me.”
Looking a little puzzled at the request, but obviously not unduly bothered by it, Jon let his arms hang down by his sides and turned in a slow circle. As he passed Bryan, the boys made a brief eye contact and Jon gave a quick, shy smile.
Damian’s brow was furrowed in thought and he was nodding slowly. “Here you go; get these put on,” he said, handing over the shorts.
Bryan had also been both puzzled and surprised that Damian had made Jon display himself like that. Though he had given in to his own natural curiosity and made the most of the opportunity to have a good look at the boy’s privates, feeling a touch of envy when he saw that Jon had a small but definite bush of dark pubic hair; Bryan’s own pubes were quite thin and sparse by comparison. However, he did think that maybe Jon’s dick was a little smaller than his own, so that was at least some consolation.
The shorts were indeed tight, the elastic material clinging to Jon’s body like a second skin. Jon finished pulling them on and did a quick job of straightening out the wrinkles, and then presented himself to Damian.
“I’m going to need you to make some adjustments for me,” said Damian, his eyes on the dark haired boy. “This is the bit some boys find a little embarrassing. I want you to move things around so that your dick is pointing straight up towards your belly button.”
Jon looked momentarily shocked and his faced reddened slightly, but then he gave his usual shy smile and slid his hand down inside the front of his shorts to change the angle at which his penis lay. “Like that?” he asked, taking his hand back out.
“That’s perfect,” said Damian.
Bryan had watched with a strange fascination as Jon had touched himself in full view, not even bothering to turn away. The end result was that Jon’s willy and balls were now clearly outlined beneath the thin, tight fabric of the shorts. He watched as Damian did the tidying up, working his way around the legs and waistband of the garment, straightening them up and stretching out any stray wrinkles. Then the photographer did something that caused Bryan’s jaw to drop open. The man ran his two index fingers around the outline of Jon’s penis, pressing into the fabric to further emphasise the shape, and then moved lower down and did the same thing with the boy’s balls. Bryan found that he was blushing as he watched this intimate contact. He expected Jon to shout out and push Damian’s hand away, but to Bryan’s amazement, Jon just accepted this as if it were normal.
“Your pubic hair spoils the outline a bit,” Damian observed. “But there’s not a lot we can do about that at the moment. Anyway, I think we’re ready. This is the set that is really going to earn you some commission. When this hits the website you’re going to be signing prints until your hand hurts.”
Jon giggled happily and Damian immediately snapped off a couple of quick shots of the boy laughing.
This was by far the largest set of the three, as Damian captured the boy from every conceivable angle. Standing up, lying on the floor, sitting cross-legged, standing with legs apart, arms folded, arms behind his back, arms stretched overhead; there seemed to be almost no end to the poses. Bryan watched almost enviously as Jon seemed to flow naturally from one to the next, appearing completely relaxed.
Eventually, Damian called a halt. “I think that will do,” he smiled. “You were great today, Jon. Well done. Go get yourself changed. When you’re ready, there’re some prints on my desk for you to sign.”
While Damian went over to his computer, Bryan followed Jon over to the table where the dark-haired boy’s clothes lay. Jon was grinning happily, and he unselfconsciously peeled off the shorts and dropped them onto the table before starting to look for his own underwear.
“Didn’t that bother you?” Bryan asked softly, making a deliberate effort to look at Jon’s face rather than letting his gaze stray down to the boy’s groin.
“What?”
“You know; him touching you like that?”
“Oh that.” Jon gave a giggle. “He was doing his job.” He stepped into his black shorts and pulled them up.
“Yes, but…” Bryan trailed off.
“When I arrived last week, Damian was rubbing oil onto your chest. Didn’t that bother you?”
Bryan thought back. The experience had been a little strange, but he recalled how he had also found it rather pleasant. “That was different,” he objected. “He wasn’t touching my privates.”
“He wasn’t touching mine,” Jon pointed out. “I was wearing the shorts.”
Bryan gave up and shook his head. “You did look pretty good today though,” he said, with a smile. “The way you moved and everything just looked so… well… natural.”
“That was because of the dancing,” Jon laughed.
“Dancing?”
“Yeah. Mum made me start going when I was eight. I hated it and gave it up last year. Then she wanted me to take drama classes, but I didn’t want to. We fought about it for a while, and then she suggested modelling.”
Bryan nodded. “It was my mum who made me come here.”
“I wasn’t sure at first,” said Jon. “But now I think I like it. Damian’s great, I really like him; and I like you as well.”
“I’m still not sure whether I like it or not,” said Bryan. “I do like being around you and Damian, but it just feels funny standing around with almost nothing on while I have my picture taken.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Damian called to them from across the room.
“Nothing really,” Bryan replied.
“Well come and do ‘nothing really’ over here then,” said Damian. “These prints of Jon’s are not going to sign themselves.”
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