Paying the Rent
The things we do as students to survive...first year student Marshall finds some unusual ways to pay his way...and some additional challenges when the past intrudes unexpectedly.
No sex, mostly just a bit of fun, though naughty enough for an adult rating.
A very quick, pretty silly piece for something different. Enjoy and let me know what you think.
Well, the pay is good. It pays the rent. This is a recording, this is a recording. I say the same thing every time, it doesn't make it any easier, but I find I can fake nonchalance easier now.
So here I stood, outside a cold and echoing room again, all dusty and decaying like most seemed to be. The School of Fine Arts seemed to get the shitty end of the stick, but to my biased view that's just fine by me. Us engineering types don't have a lot of sympathy for arty schmarty's; except when they help us pay the rent. Pay the rent. Pay the rent. Goddamn, forget everything else and just remember you are paying the rent.
I had resolved to avoid any more anti-arts graffiti in the toilets at the Baillieu library for at least a month. And anyway, once the first guy had scrawled the immortal "Arts degree, please take one" on a toilet wall with an arrow pointing to the toilet paper dispenser, it was all downhill for the rest of us ever after.
"Hey, Marshall, errr...got a second?"
"Yeah Prof, whats up?"
The earnest old badger was looking sheepish, if that species combination was even possible. His pince nez glasses had fallen down his long snout, and his nose was quivering as if scenting trouble, while his eyes darted around trying hard not to catch mine.
"Ahhh, we have a slight problem. My PA is away this month, and I'm lost without her, such a dear. Would lose my own head if it wasn't screwed on haha."
"Haha...heh. Yes, so what's wrong?"
"Well...I managed to double book for today. I forgot I had you coming, and I got another one of my regulars to attend. He's over there."
I followed the pointing arm, the finger extended apologetically towards a tall lean cheetah standing against the far wall, dressed casually but elegantly, and carrying a leather satchel liberally decorated with rainbow flags. Oh fuckadoodledo, maybe I would have to find another way to pay the rent this week. I could always borrow from that PhD student again, the lioness with the ass that wouldn't quit. If I fucked her all night she tended to forget I owed her...and she wasn't half bad in the sack.
"So...does that mean you don't need me?"
"Well...I had an idea. The class is getting into more advanced work anyway, so I think it might be good timing. How about you both pose for us this time? What do you say?"
My mind gave a sort of internal fart, like a car backfiring. To buy itself time, my memory wandered to how I got into this mess in the first place. Maybe an answer would be there.
I was dead broke, and struggling to come up with the rent, let alone enough money for a decent amount of beer, and in desperation I had gone to the student employment service to see what they might have.
I had been pretty disheartened, seeing all the positions that I didn't have a chance at, all requiring experience I didn't have. I was returning to the one listed by the Psych department, which seemed ok, something to do with sleep studies and circadian rhythms, when one from the Fine Arts department caught my eye.
Life drawing models wanted. Males and females, all species accepted, prefer athletes eg rowers, track and field. $30 an hour. See Professor Jennings room 204, Old Arts annexe.
I remember being kind of appalled, but not turning away. I must admit, I'm proud of my body. A shire stallion, with a natural sporting gift, I looked good enough naked that I had plenty of action down the beach. My girlfriends always wanted a nude selfie to remember me by when I wasn't there, and I was always happy to oblige.
Still...getting buff in a room full of strangers....and, arts students at that. The guys would be...well, you know. The sort that wouldn't last five minutes in an engineering class, shall we say.
I had shaken my head, determined not to go there, and headed for the Psych department instead. That was a disaster; I was ushered into a tiny office with six postdocs including one bookish ewe who proceeded to tell me how pleased she was to have an equine because she only had the large anal probes left...and gave me a demonstration of the appropriate self insertion technique. Yep, the study involved a data recorder tracking body temperature over a three day period courtesy of a probe stuck up your ass.
When she helpfully suggested she would be willing to show me how right now if I wanted to undress and head behind the screen, I bolted while the other postdocs all giggled. I had their laughter ringing in my ears all the way to the Old Arts Annexe and room 204, where I rapped on the door still burning in embarrassment.
The old badger was so charming, and so absentminded professorish, I forgot to be intimidated and signed up right away; still shuddering at the image of that ewe slotting a flexible thermocouple up my tailhole. Plus, well, I really did need the money. Compared to cleaning, shovelling shit or waiting tables, this would be a breeze.
I had managed six sessions without incident, to the point where I felt like a seasoned veteran now, a journeyman nude. Have ripped stallion bod, will nude up for cash, just name the place. And, once you got into a session, it sort of got boring more than anything else. The students were all frantically sketching away, and I was just trying hard to hold my pose for the required 15 minutes at a time, it all became, well, normal.
Until now.
"Uhh...you want us to pose alternate positions?"
"Oh no! I thought it would be great if you posed together...the juxtaposition of bodies, two forms, two musculatures...equine and feline, a new challenge for the class. I think they are up for it...are you?"
I just stood, a bit stunned, looking at the cheetah. He had noticed me, and his eyes gave a sort of odd look before he smiled and gave me a wave. Oh good grief.
"Er...I'm not so sure, I mean..."
"Oh come now, relax Marshall. You can't be getting prudish now surely, you've been naked in front of strangers plenty of times already. What's wrong?"
"Well, it's just...I can't help but notice...well, he's a guy..."
"So?"
"I'm a guy."
"Yes, so far indisputable facts. Have you been taking a course in formal logic?"
"Do I need to spell it out!"
"I'm afraid you might have to Marshall, I'm afraid I'm a bit dim."
"Nevermind..."
I managed a sigh that came from the bottom of my hooves, and shook my mane on the way out. Necessity won out though...pay the rent. And I did so much want to go to the engineering ball...and that cost money. Not to mention the tux.
"Fine, I'll do it."
"Excellent, let's get into it then shall we?"
I headed into the room, walking towards the little screened off area to the side that was my own 'undressing room'. I managed to stifle a cry when another fur joined me; the cheetah gave me an understanding smile as we took up our places as far from each other as the cramped location allowed.
"Hey"
"Hey"
"Looks like we're working together today eh?"
"Yup."
I was determined to be a horse of few words for this.
I could hear the prof out the front, banging his notepad on the desk to get the class' attention.
"Welcome class, today we have a special treat. We have two models for you today, both of whom you will have seen before, but today they will be posing together. You will get to expand your technique, dealing with the interplay of two bodies of different species, together and yet apart, a study in contrasts. Please welcome Marshall and Vaughan."
A polite smattering of applause made it worse, and I trudged out from behind the screen, the cheetah leading the way. With my head down, I actually had a good view of the cat, his tail swaying before me as we walked. He was a lean one, like most big cats I guess, I didn't know too many or at least not many cheetahs. I played football with some lions, but they were more your typical bulky jock type.
This guy looked more like a distance runner, maybe 30 or so. He was in good shape though, at least. I crinkled my nose up at that, kind of smirking. Typical gay guy, half the guys I ran into in the gym were gay, not that it bothered me. I just pretended not to notice when they eyed me up.
"Right, time to get down to business. Class, get your pencils out, we will be doing five poses in this session, and I want to see you all working hard."
We reached the stage, and I could not put off the evil moment any longer, but still I tried to delay the inevitable.
"Um...Vaughan is it?...um...what do you want to do?"
"Well, how about you take up a pose, and I will work around you."
Of course...fuck it...
"Fine, well, give me a sec then...."
I looked around desperate for inspiration, and then I spied the chair, one of the standard props. Reasoning that I should take up the prime position and so limit the damage, I plopped down on the chair, my thighs turned almost side saddle, hips rotated and hands grasping the sides, my head in an artfully nonchalant angle and waited.
Suck on that cat boy.
It took every ounce of control I had not to scream when the cheetah, far from perturbed, walked forward and sort of wrapped himself around my body, kneeling on the stage, legs entwined with mine, arms draped round my torso, his head almost under my armpit. I had acquired clothing; my own personal cheetah cloak.
"Excellent work Vaughan, brilliant physicality. Love that pose, so vital, so sensual! Now, hold there you two."
I used my breathing exercises from weight training to bring my body under control, though I couldn't avoid my whole body tensing at first, every muscle spasming as I felt the embrace of another male everywhere. His whiskers were in the worst spot, tickling my underarm bush, and I could feel the warm huff of his breath on my nipple.
Fucucucucucucuckckckckckckckckcckck.
I calmed down, barely, and waited out what I was confident would be the worst 15 minutes of my life. I managed to live through it mainly by mentally writing my resignation letter to the prof, and that kept me sane through the pose. At least at first; because to my horror cat boy started talking to me. Now, I guess I have to say, there are certain areas of guy etiquette; one of those is that there are certain places and times you keep your trap shut. Urinals for example; if you walk up beside a guy siphoning the old python, you don't strike up a conversation. That's for when you are washing your paws afterwards maybe.
I felt, at least I thought logically, when you are plastered together naked in front of 20 strangers, the same would apply. Eyes forward; no talking. But no, catboy had different ideas.
"So...you been doing this long?"
"Er....no."
"I'm an old paw at this; I'm a teacher, part time now while I do a postgrad course, but I did this in uni and kept it up because the money is good."
"Yeah...good."
"Course, I also find it's a great way to meet cute art students. How bout you?"
"Er...not really."
"Cmon...surely some of these hot girls have asked for your number..."
"Well..."
"Or maybe some of the hot guys eh?"
Ohfuckohfuckohfuck...
"Not my thing."
"Pity. I'm fairly partial to horses myself..."
This is not happening. Pay the rent...pay the rent....fucking stick the fucking rent!
I was saved by the bell, literally, as the prof actually rung a little silver bell to signal the end of each pose. I almost exploded off the seat, making the cheetah fly sideways a little in surprise, stretching my muscles and shaking out my tail in an effort to regain some mental equilibrium. I had only 5 minutes though, and I would need to get in a new position soon.
Looking over at the cheetah, he gave me a wink, and pointed at me as if to say, you pose, I follow again. This time I avoided the chair like the plague. Fuck the chair; it had betrayed me, keeping me hemmed in against the catboy. I would be free this time; a stallion in the fields, powerful, magnificent...alone.
I trotted over to one side, standing still, my head up a little, looking at one of the lights hanging from the ceiling. A stallion alone, aloof, unperturbed...
"Oof!"
"Oh yes, wonderful work again Vaughan, I love that, something very expressive, a hint of Mappplethorpe even. Magnificent"
All I could do was whimper slightly.
The cheetah was not to be outdone. Eyeing my stolid grace, he decided to mimic my pose...from a position directly in front of me. Tight. In fact, I now had my groin pressed into naked cheetah butt, my head over his, chest against his back. A study in contrasts indeed; one casual cheetah, at ease. One terrified stallion ready to bolt. Pride held me there. For now.
I could hear the methodical scrape of pencil over paper, and tried to focus on that to take my mind away from the reality. Cheetah boy was having none of that though. What was it with the talking?
"I'm sure I know you from somewhere."
"I...doubt it. I mean, I'm only 18 so..."
"Mount Anderson High?"
Oh fuck, please say it isn't so...
"Um...yeah but...how?"
"Marshall...oh God...Marshall Patterson?"
"Shit..I mean yes...I mean...who?"
"Its me, Vaughan....Mr Zdrilic...."
"Mr Zdrilic? Year nine drama?! Oh.......fuck...."
"God, Marshall Patterson. Well I never. You have grown into one seriously...impressive stallion Marshall. Kudos! Though you never seemed much into drama, at least based on the number of detentions I had to give you."
"Yeah...uh....oh shit...sorry...."
"That's ok. The dead fish smell did come out of my car seats eventually. I will have to tell your brother we met, he will be so tickled."
"Toby? Why...?"
"He's in my year 8 class this year. I still teach three days a week there while I'm studying. He is a great student, Toby, not like you, but you are pretty different at that. Still, he will get a good laugh at this I'm sure. He talks about you often; mostly about your success with the ladies. My my....seems some things don't change eh Marshall? Have you told him about that husky in year 12 yet? The one you got sprung getting a blowjob from in the store room?"
"No! And please...don't..."
"Don't worry Marsh. Guys don't tell on other guys...mostly. Mind you...you may need to remind your brother of that..."
I wished for the earth to open up and swallow me whole then.
My only consolation was that I knew I had found the worst that life could throw at me, or so I thought. Naïve stupid horse that I am, it took only minutes for that to be proved wrong.
The thoughts of Sally-Anne on her knees sucking my horsecock had started a tingling. Normally I didn't mind that tingling, but not now. Please not now.
Trying to hide the growing problem, I was forced to push tighter against the cheetah, my groin locked against his butt. Unfortunately, that had its own problems. My sheath now slid into place, wedged perfectly in the crack of that sculpted cheetah ass. As my bulge locked in, I heard a slight meow from the cat, and he flexed his butt muscles, once...twice....and bingo
"Er...Marshall...I'm flattered but.."
"Oh fuck no!"
It only made it worse. Little Marsh sprung to full attention, sliding up the cheetah's crack and nudging his tail to one side, wedging in the small of his back and throbbing like a traitor. The apocalypse had come. Back in year nine, stuck in drama class and hating every moment, I had passed the time conjuring up elaborate ways to murder Mr Zdrilic while getting away with them. Karma is such a bitch; now I wanted to kill myself instead.
"It's ok Marsh, relax, it's happened to all of us at some time. But, believe me, I am impressed. You really have grown into a magnificent stallion..."
Then things got an extra notch worse.
Ringadingaling.
"Right, time to break again and prepare for the next pose."
Fuck no.
"Um...Marshall, I said time to break."
"Uhhh..."
"I think Marshall may need some time."
"Nonsense, we need to get going...this room isn't available beyond 3 pm and I need to get in as many...ohhh..."
The traitorous cat had given a shrug and walked forward, despite my frantic attempts to grip his shoulders and hold him in place. I was left, alone all right, the stallion aloof...but anything other than unperturbed.
"Well...er....*cough*...maybe you would like a five minute break Marshall?"
I raised my head long enough to see the badger looking over his pince nez at me, one eye squinting, his expression priceless. That wasn't the worst though. Next to him was a wolf, one I had dismissed early on as a typical hipster wannabe in black polo and Buddy Holly glasses who always carried an air of bored superiority.
Not now. Now I had his attention; he was staring at me, or more accurately, my groin, his tongue out licking his lips. I swear there was a pool of drool on the floor. He looked up, noticing me noticing, and gave a cheeky grin and a wink. Then he blew me a kiss.
I headed for the screened partition with my head down, amused twitters ringing in my ears, and used every trick in the book to lose the 'problem'. It wasn't easy, I am 18 after all, but I managed. It involved thinking of things best not mentioned. That way lies madness.
I let out a long groan then, as I prepared to walk back out. Three more poses to go. Hell had arrived, and Mr Zdrillic was the Devil's offsider.
Once it was over, I thought I could make a quick getaway, but the badger insisted on talking to us both.
"That was wonderful gentlemen, the class made immense progress today, and it is all down to you. I am sorry about your little...problem, Marshall, but it happens. My goodness, you would be surprised what I've seen in my time!"
I was nodding reflexively hoping he would just stop fucking talking, my nodding stopping suddenly when the cheetah gave a sotto voce "didn't look like a little problem to me" that only I heard. I made my best apologies, all the while wanting to bolt, not ready for the kicker.
"So, next week, Thursday. Are you both free? I'd like to pick up again where we left off...if you don't mind."
There were three post-it notes with phone numbers left in the pocket of my backpack. All from guys, dammit.
*****
Well, the pay is good. It pays the rent. Please God, just...don't make it any worse.
"So...I'm curious...what made you come back?"
"Ahhh...well, I wasn't too keen but...well, I need the money, and I do like to, you know, contribute to the advancement of science. And stuff..."
The ewe gave a tight smile.
"Yes. Quite. Don't we all? Very noble...personally I don't give a flying fuck, as long as I get enough test subjects. And I have been struggling to get enough equines. Don't know why."
I gave a tight smile then in perfect sync with hers. I think I could imagine...
"So, as we discussed last time. Once you sign the waiver, we can get started. Now, we didn't have much money I'm afraid, so we couldn't afford the latest probes. These are a little...larger, and more difficult to insert. It can be a little...uncomfortable, the first time. It really is best if I demonstrate; would you be ok with that?"
"Errr no, I think I can...er...manage it myself. There are worse things in life...at least I found that out."
"Fine...well, here is the data recorder, if you clip it to your belt there, it should be protected."
"Great..."
"Oh, I forgot. We did have enough money at least for this...here, just to make things easier."
The ewe's fixed smile never wavered as she handed over the bottle, an extra-large one of plain brand personal lubricant. I matched her smile, remembering the reason I was here; and the alternatives.
"How thoughtful..."
Sigh...
===========================
Postscript.
Before anyone asks....I did do both jobs in university. Unfortunately.