The Symposium Chapter 02: Callum's Consultation
This story is a work of fiction. Resemblances to real persons, places or events would be extremely surprising.
Callum had needed time to think after getting his letter. The broad brown envelope had been exciting at first, his first post-grad interview and for a job that would give him plenty of scope to develop what he'd learned. Having worked his arse off, Callum was proud of his dual degree in Physiotherapy and Physiology and Sport Science. Not to Accreditation of Prior Learning (APL) to allow him to apply for employment in personal training.
The letter, when he opened it was an invitation to interview for a position at a well-to-do gym on the other side of the city. He knew it was predominantly used by gay men and had never been shy about his sexuality but felt the need to consider the prudence of working in an establishment where his own sexuality could be a selling point. Or going for an interview where he might be positively discriminated over another applicant who was not gay.
He had applied for physio post in the NHS too, but the private sector, he knew from the million applications he'd sent and companies he'd read about paid better and he felt he would have more opportunities to develop his knowledge and skills if he avoided the beurocracy of the National Health Service. Besides, none of them had invited him for an interview and the Symposium Athletics Club had.
Callum had heard Iain running out the door almost an hour ago, he'd be back soon so Callum took his letter to his room where Iain would not see it. He then tidied up a bit and stacked Iain's mail neatly on the breakfast table. Iain had a mysterious letter too this morning and hoped his cousin was having better luck than him at getting a job. That wasn't quite true though, with a pang of guilt Callum hoped he's get a job first. Iain was smart and had worked hard at his studies but Callum... Callum wanted to do better than Iain.
Callum brushed his hubris aside and went upstairs to change – he'd go for a cycle while he thought about his impending interview. The invitation had been odd: shorts, so underwear, physical exam... he had the feeling he was going to be embarrassed by the end of the day. But that would be ok, he decided – he looked in the mirror and liked what he saw. Callum was not arrogant or preening but he knew he was a perfect then – the kind of man most men were jealous of but didn't dislike. He'd met the other sort, dated a couple even – good looking Adonis's: preening, vain, painted smiles, fake tan, false men who looked good but whose ugliness inside was like smoke that curled around them and curdled the enviable fascia.
Iain was like himself, Callum thought. He was a lot of his cousin in himself – the smooth, pale skin and the dense muscles of a well trained body. The six pack, the brown nipples, the tuft of chest hair, the fair haired arms and legs, the short blonde-ish hair. Callum was getting hard just looking into the mirror, or was it the thought of Iain?
Callum undressed with the blinds closed, the bright sun still shone through but he light was muted and no-one would see him naked. He decided not to wank, the latter instructed him not to (weird!) and he wanted to get out the house for a bit. He pulled on a vest and cycling shorts and thought about benign things (rainbows, Scottish terriers, coke life WTF) until his cock went down.
He was back downstairs just after Iain arrived home. He asked Iain about his mail and hoped he wouldn't have to lie about his own.
But his cousin did ask so Callum figured a lie of omission was barely a lie at all. "Same as you." He said. "Bank statement, in the black if you were wondering. And that MP chap of ours is talking about getting a filter for the traffic light at meadow road."
"Great," Iain said dryly, then quipped, "Only took a fatality to swing that one, eh."
"Wheesht." Callum replied but smiled despite the black comedy. Iain's sense of humour tended towards sarcasm and only just the right side of appropriate.
"I was thinking I'd go out for a cycle along the canal, since you're just back and the sun's out, I'm guessing you plan to strip off and sun yourself?" Callum asked but Iain wasn't really paying attention. "I'm gonna roast a chicken if you're gonna be here for dinner. Or do you have a better offer?" Callum asked but Iain still wasn't paying attention.
Callum looked expectantly at Iain, who finally realised he hadn't been paying attention. His far-away expression changed as he snapped back. "Sorry, what?" Iain asked.
"Earth to Iain," Callum teased. "You back on planet Earth? Will you be in for dinner? Or have you got other plans?" Callum gently mocked Iain, but not cruelly, with a patient tone of voice.
"Yea," Iain replied. "And also yea." Iain joked and then smiled cordially. "You know my other plans' evaporated when Natasha moved to Manchester with her suspiciously intimate friend'."
Callum caught the edge in Iain's tone but let it go. Historically that girl was an off topic and besides, Iain would find someone else – that was inevitable. Callum had no such confidence about his own love life. So Callum replied neutrally, "I know. Just checking you weren't meeting up with some of the boys."
"Like Craig?" Iain said. His response was quick fired. His fast wit occasionally caught Callum off guard.
"Shut it!" he replied; having learned not to be defensive he avoided an hour of persistent ridicule.
With the conversation over, Callum raced out for a bike ride. No particular distance or destination, he just enjoyed the nice weather. By early afternoon he'd joined Iain in the garden. No work today and Callum hoped his part-time hours (and the rest) would be a thing of the past once he got on the career ladder.
By late afternoon the boys were drinking, by evening they were pleasantly relaxed. Inside, Callum's stomach occasionally churned. He was excited, nervous, excited. His dreaming was filled with sweaty men and soft-porn nudity – but that wasn't necessarily his apprehension about the gym interview. Maybe the dream was just good luck.
The next couple of days passed uneventfully. On Thursday morning he heard Iain up early but himself slept in. Then raced around the garden to get his heart rate going a little faster, but not much. After a while he decided to go for a walk, with his head swimming with interview answers and question. As he walked, he listened to the kids down the street shouting and laughing and a mum telling someone to pack it in. The sounds of summer made him smile and gentle odours led his steps astray. When he got back home, Iain was still out and Callum wasn't hungry. He was actually glad he didn't have to talk to anyone and he was afraid Iain might sense his apprehension.
His interview was set for the afternoon, 90 minutes before time he pulled on a short sleeve t-shirt and running shorts. Without underwear on they felt divine – mid-thigh length with slits a little farther up he was a little worried something would pop out. They looked no different to when he's wear brief underneath – but he knew there was nothing there and that made all the difference. Callum knew he could wear something else, jogging shorts like Iain favoured but he like the feel of the short shorts and wanted to look good. He looked great.
He's already prepared his leather satchel. His professional development portfolio was inside, including his dissertation. He's persuaded one of the course professors to give him a (glowing) reference. Earlier he's put a change of clothes in the car. 30 minutes early, Callum set off and 20 minutes early he walked into the vast foyer of the Symposium Athletics Club. His eyes followed a good looking man's arse as it entered the locker room passed out of view. The locker room entrance was at least three times wider than an average door. To the right he could hear the hubbub of a coffee bar that looked onto the pool and to the left the glass lift was at ground level. A polo-necked boy came out of a door next to the lift and Callum was too busy checking him out to hear the question posed.
His attention snapped back when asked again: "Can I help you, sir?" The man behind the desk was trim and had a chest of solid muscle – he looked more like an enforcer or bounty hunter.
"I'm here for an interview." Callum said. "Three pm, Callum Carter?" he waited while the man (whose name tag read: Raymond West) checked a list in front of him.
Raymond smiled. "Yes of course," he said. "Please take a seat."
Callum's leg bounced nervously while he waited. His legs were crossed at the knee and, closing the shorts from accidental spillage of their contents. His long, beautiful legs descended into sockless trainers. Callum tried not to think about how exhibited he felt. He tried to think like Iain – sex sells. Iain had said that before. If you've got it, flaunt it. Iain had said that too. Callum had it, he knew.
"Mr Carter?" a tall bald man asked. "I'm Mr Douglas."
Callum uncrossed his legs and stood as Mr Douglas extended his hand. "A pleasure to meet you."
"Can I call you Callum?" he asked. The man was striking: probably the north end of forty, probably more. His head was shaved, with only the faintest hint of blonde remaining so that Callum guessed a receding hairline or unsightly bald spot. But it suited the man. He was fit too; slim and athletic.
Callum was about to reply "You can call me anything you like." But thought it sounded flirtatious so instead said, "Yes. Callum would be fine, Mr Douglas."
"Let's go to one of the training rooms, shall we?" Mr Douglas said.
Mr Douglas led Callum to the door next to the lift and held it open for him. The corridor beyond was long with doors on both sides. Callum was led to the first on the left, which made it behind the glass lift. The only glass in this room however was the window facing the outside world and the wall facing the corridor – both sets were closed, but the sun outside made the room bright without the need for lights in the room.
The room was big enough for 1:1 training sessions. Just now there were three men in addition to Callum and Mr Douglas.
"Callum, this is Doctor Ledger, physiotherapist Simon Wright and personal trainer Findlay McKellan." Mr Douglas introduced him to the other men. "Gentlemen, this is Callum."
Callum was asked to sit opposite a slim table facing the rear wall, the four men sat on the other side. Behind him now there was still enough space to swing a cat, instead two exercise bikes were stationed.
"Well now. Shall we begin?" Mr Douglas asked.
For nearly half an hour Callum answered questions and discussed practice, Simon had been called away but the interview continued without him.
"You understand that the original vacancy was for a personal trainer. With your additional qualification, you might be over qualified. Why should we consider you?" Mr Douglas asked his final question.
"I think there is a difference between being over qualified and having additional knowledge and skill that would enhance one's ability to perform." Callum answered without hesitation. "I know I would be a valuable member of your team if you give me the chance. If there's anything I can't do, I'll learn and I'm a fast study."
Callum had relaxed, both feet now flat on the floor, legs slightly spread. He became aware of his posture and did not correct it. Open body language and sex. He realised how much he wanted this job, he liked the people he'd met, even Mr Douglas who at first seemed impenetrable and severe. Mr Douglas was not that, Callum wasn't sure who he was. At any rate, he knew better than to abuse the clique but he'd do anything.
Mr Douglas gave the doctor a nod.
"Would you stand up and take off your shirt and shoes please?" Doctor Ledger said.
Callum was nearly caught off guard. Surprised by how quickly he could be stripped of his dignity. He stood and toed off the trainers then lifted his shirt to expose his flat stomach and underwear model abs. The doctor took some measurements and felt his muscles, examined a mole on his back and he checked Callum's balance. The doctor stood close while he checked Callum's pupil responses, holding the torch in his right hand the doctor's left hand dangled at his side. It swung forward to brush Callum's thigh. He gasped but realised this was something he had been waiting for? Well, perhaps not waiting for but half-expected it.
Callum's cock responded quite favourably to the faint touch. In his tiny shorts, Callum's penis grew. The head of his cock brushed the soft inside of the material. The doctor's touch grazed his scrotum. Callum's cock thickened and continued to lengthen until it crept out the bottom of the shorts.
This was when the doctor's fingers first touched Callum's penis.
Callum suppressed a moan. The doctor finished his exam however and stepped away, leaving the whole room looking at his penis poking out of the shorts.
Finn smiled and moved forward. "We'd like to try a time trial, if that's alright. It'll be up to you to motivate me to complete 5 miles in fifteen minutes."
Callum smiled back but was reticent, his professional brain switching on. "That's ambitious unless you're a seriously serious cyclist." He said diplomatically.
"I'm not a beginner." Finn said. "Motivate me Callum. Motivate me." He pointed to the two cycling machines at the back of the room.
Callum followed Finn to the back of the after slipping on his trainers. The man had dark good looks and dressed in a navy polo neck t-shirt and navy shorts (not quite as short as Callum's) he was rather dishy.
Callum's penis had retracted slightly. He climbed onto the bike to Finn's right. They both faced Mr Douglas and doctor Ledger who were whispering to one another. They set a five mile target and began. Over the following minutes, Callum encouraged Finn to increase his speed to 20 mph and maintain it. He challenged Finn to beat his speed and then to overtake his distance. They were very close, with Finn a little ahead on distance when he started slowing. They were close, but not close enough to stop just yet.
"Keep going." Callum told him. "You set a target, you make that target!"
"I want to make you a wager." He replied. They were both breathless and sweaty.
Callum's sweat on his brow and his chest and his back descended to his treasure trail and then his navel. It had wet the top of his shorts, turning them wet and shiny and his pubes showed though. Finn too was sweating but his navy clothes simply darkened a little – nothing showed through.
"Go on then." Callum prompted.
"Target is 5 miles and we only have a few minutes left. Loser gives the winner a reward." He said mischeviously. "How about a tongue bath?"
"What?" Callum said. "Here? I mean... in front of..." he nodded to the two content men watching them.
"Here and now – in front of them, champ." Finn said. "You wanna be in our club? Prove it."
Callum thought for a second, took mental bravery pills then replied, "Deal."
He must've been out of his mind! Finn immediately accelerated and won by half a minute. Callum finished though. And in less than 15 minutes – he made this point to Finn.
"Yea, you were a real motivating force." Finn said. "You've got a silver tongue." There was a fraction of a second pause before he said the last word.
Callum's cock stirred again. He stepped towards Finn who had moved to perch his bum on the desk. Mr Douglass and the doctor did not seem to mind, their eyes were still predominantly on Callum. Callum unbuttoned Finn's polo shirt – of the three, only the lower two were fastened anyway. His hands gripped the hem of the top and lifted.
Finn had a hairy chest, the kind that even blokes who don't like hairy chest enjoy – it was masculine and damp with sweat and matched the beard that covered his lantern jaw and came back into view as the shirt came off over his head.
Finn pulled himself upright so he was pressed close to Callum, whose cock was returning to full arousal. Finn touched through the shorts and then leaned in to kiss Callum's lips. Callum couldn't help closing his eyes as their tongues danced. Parting, Finn moved his hands to Callum's hips and pushed the shorts down.
Callum felt the shorts around his ankles.
"Step out of them then." Finn instructed.
Callum did and Finn kicked them across the room. Callum felt vulnerable in just his trainers but achingly aroused also.
"A profile picture if you don't mind." Said the doctor, handing a camera to Finn.
It wasn't really a question and Callum was now too dazed to argue. More pictures than was necessary were taken and Callum felt faintly embarrassed that his `profile picture' was being taken while he was stark bullock naked. He didn't argue though.
Returning the camera to the other side of the desk, Finn stepped around Callum and moved a few feet from the desk then turned in profile to it. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his shorts. The thatch of dark hair on his lower legs continued up his thighs and into a pair of bulging navy briefs.
"Bath time?" he said or asked, either way Callum was ready.
Callum's tongue explored Finn's arms and collar bone, paying particular attention to Finn's neck when the man made a low moan – an erogenous zone Callum would remember for another time he hoped. Callum was very aware of his hard cock sticking straight out and occasionally poking Finn's brief-clad organ.
The man lifted his arm to reveal his arm pit, but made no especial declaration concerning attention to be made though. Smelly pit attention was a little weird, Callum thought and hoped Finn was making tacit agreement when he dropped his arms.
Callum licked the man's chest and sucked his nipples. These too elicited signs of pleasure that Callum was happy to prolong.
"Oh fuck!" Finn said.
Part of the tease of course involved stopping, so Callum did – withdrawing his attention and instead gliding his tongue down from between Finn's clavicles to the centre of his chest, past the xiphosternum and though the thatch of Finn's happy trail. Indeed, Finn seemed delighted. Callum moved around Finn and repeated the process in reverse, licking up Finn's spine then back down again.
Callum's tongue did not get the chance to tire or dry out, there was copious sweat that tasted simultaneously salty and sweet. Callum liked the back of Finn's calves then returned to the front. He kissed the top of Finn's feet then ran his tongue up each let to the knee. He was getting close to what he wanted most. He didn't v remember there were other people in the room now. He didn't care he was being watched. He wanted Finn's cock in his mouth. He wanted to bury his face in the man's crotch. He wanted...
The door opened. "I think you'll find there's no such thing as a room out of bounds to me." Said the incomer.
Callum was naked and on his knees, arse towards the door – arse toward the client who had just entered and the white adorned towel boy (technically the club called them athletic assistants) trying to appease him. Callum's tongue was freshly off Finn's slick thigh and his cock was hard, though by grace that would not be seen from the doorway.
"Ah, Mr Mendel," Mr Douglas called out. "I'm afraid this is an interview room today and you are going to be late for the classes I scheduled for you. I know you were keen to trying out the sauna room." Mr Douglas had crossed the room and all but pushed the man out.
Mr Mendel looked ready to protest – he was perhaps keen to watch what was going on. The boy behind him was, the boy behind Mr Mendel was an adorable sandy haired boy. "I..." Mr Mendel began.
"I really must insist." Mr Douglas said, smiling but unequivocal.
Mr Mendel stepped out and Mr Douglas closed the door.
"Continue." Mr Douglas said.
Callum turned back to Finn's bulge and buried his nose into the groin, his tongue tasted the edge of Finn's scrotum which was exposed by the gap in his briefs as his cock pushed the legs and waist open. Callum heard a soft sliding noise but had other things on his mind. He registered Mr Douglas coming to sit on the desk to watch more closely.
Callum's hands gripped the briefs and pulled them down. His hands lingered on the bare buttocks before pulling the briefs all the way to the floor. Callum's tongue licked Finn's balls: underneath and around the side, sliding into the crotch and back underneath. His tongue liked the long under shaft of Finn's uncut cock.
"Do it." Whispered Finn.
Callum slid his lips over the head of Cambell's cock. His mouth was well lubricated and in impaling his face on Finn's penis, made the whole organ slimy and sleek. Finn put his hands on Callum's head but did not push.
Callum sucked and licked and swirled his tongue around Finn's big thick dick.
"I'm gonna cum." He gasped. A polite warning for the deluge that soon followed.
Callum did well to not make a mess of the floor, but at least it was not carpet and so would be easy to mop up stray drops of cum.
"Best tongue bath ever." Finn said as he bent down to pull the briefs back up over his penis.
Not yet soft, his cock filled the briefs nicely.
"Stand up, Callum." Mr Douglas said.
Finn pulled on his t-shirt and shorts and faced Callum again.
"I'm going to tell you something." Mr Douglas said. He pointed up, "We've been recording this interview." Callum noticed the thing that was not a smoke detector – well, it might be that too but it was defiantly a camera. "I want you to start wanking. And I do not want you to cum today."
A choice then, Callum realised. Was he committed to this club, to its people and its purpose and its practice? Callum stroked his cock which hadn't been soft since his briefs had been removed. His cock ached for release, bit that was perhaps the point – compliance and self-control, pleasure without release. He edged for five minutes before stopping his aching hand and resting his aching cock.
Mr Douglas, the doctor and Finn were rather pleased. Finn's finger pointed so Callum's eye's were drawn to the wall, the long glass wall that's blinds had been opened. Several men and boys, both patrons and employees were also pleased. They moved on as Finn handed Callum his shorts to put back on.
"I would like you to come back tomorrow for a follow-up interview. Hush hush about us until then of course." Mr Douglas said.
"I... I don't have the job?" Callum asked, sure he'd have sucked Finn off anyway but having sold his sex he'd hoped he'd got a job out of it.
"You have." Mr Douglas said. "But let's say you haven't until you pass the final test tomorrow?"
"Ok." Callum said.
"It's a warm day. No need for that t-shirt going back out, yes?" Mr Douglas promoted.
Callum looked down at himself. The sweat streaked torso and the sweat soaked shorts. The tiny shorts reeling the top of his pubes and barely containing a cock that hadn't quite gone down.
"No need." Callum agreed. The correct answer!
"Please don't masturbate tonight." Doctor Ledger said. "We need a sample and I think we're out of time." He smiled gently.
"No problem." Callum said. Again, the right answer.
Mr Douglas opened the door for him and instructed the pretty sandy haired towel boy to show him out. Callum passed down the corridor behind the boy, eighteen Callum hoped, and back into the main foyer. Exiting the corridor he glanced left. He could see the locker room and noticed its design flaw even more from here. Standing at the row of benches or lockers nearest the entrance posed a great risk of exposure to the entire foyer. He could see men being very cautious about standing there, most moved several meters into the locker room to avoid the anti-blindspot.
Callum crossed the vast foyer, attracting much attention in his tiny shorts but enjoying it. He was starting to enjoy it. Career - great, getting paid to work with hot men – fantastic, the admiration and attention of said men – priceless.
Callum crossed the car park and tossed his bag into the back seat. He didn't put on a t-shirt, he drove home feeling the wind rush in the window and the air conditioning blow-drying his balls through the shorts.
"I want those boys." Mr Douglas told doctor Ledger and Finn as he watched Callum's car pull out of the care park.
"I want them too." Finn agreed.
The doctor added his ascent, though he knew his time with them was all but over.
"I want them together tomorrow afternoon." Mr Douglas told Finn. "Call them - 2pm tomorrow." He seemed to be thinking. "Let's see how far they'll go. Let's tell them..." he laughed softly to himself before turning to face Finn. "Tell them something, anything."
"I'll make something up." Finn said confidently and nonchalantly.
"I'd like to see how identical they are. Let's give them both jobs but make them earn it." Mr Douglas said, his own cock was hardening inside his suit trousers.
Finn notice and brushed his hand across the front of Mr Douglas's trousers, though the Doctor didn't notice. The older man appreciated Finn's insight – Finn knew Mr Douglas could get obsessive. Indeed, he had been obsessive about Findlay once; that relationship had evolved now.
And now, he felt an obsession grow for the Carter boys. Mr Douglas fired out his mental wish list in short sentences: "I want one of them on his knees in front of his mirror image. I want to film them. I want to watch them cum on each other. One day I want to watch them fuck. I want those pretty boys, gentlemen!"
Finn waited for a beat to undercut the moment, "I want a sandwich."
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