With his head hung in defeat and defiance the young hero lifted his balled up cape and handed it to his smiling professor. His breathing was deeper now; he knew that whatever the professor had planned for the afternoon was what he would have to submit himself to. In order to keep his identity and that of Bruce Wayne secret the college aged stud would have to surrender to his professor’s will.
"Very well Mr. Grayson, somehow I knew we would come to an agreement." The cape was neatly folded and set at one end of the credenza that sat near the curtained windows. "I understand that you have entered and won several physique contests on campus haven't you?" The older man turned back to face the young man who continued to run through scenarios in his mind. "Grayson, you've competed have you not?"
He couldn't respond. He simply nodded his head in acknowledgment of the question.
"As I mentioned before, I find your physique flawless. I can appreciate your desire to show off amongst others. Would you like to show off for me?"
Dick Grayson's head snapped up and he looked squarely at his manipulator.
"I know it isn't how you'd hope to spend the afternoon. Perhaps you were going to find your young co-ed, Barbara Gordon and make passionate love all afternoon but rather, you're here, with me so let's have you show off what you've worked so hard for. Your body is incredible Mr. Grayson. I had that full length mirror brought in just for you." Grabbing a gloved forearm the gentleman turned the silent hero toward the back wall of the office. The tall form of Robin filled the mirror, 6 feet of solid muscle towered over his mentor and the older man soaked in the sight of him.
"I saw a few pictures of you posing in a bodybuilding contest last fall when they ran in the school paper. Tell me a little about what you wore that day. The pictures were in black and white so I couldn't tell what color you chose."
Grayson stared defiantly into the mirror while, over his shoulder, the elder looked on. "I wore yellow posing trunks", he said in a terse tone. "Is that what you want to know? What I wore? What is this all about?"
"It's about keeping our secret young Mr. Grayson. You know that. So, would you like to pose for me? Here in the privacy of my office? I turned the heat up a few degrees before you arrived so that you wouldn't be too cold." The professor stepped forward and around the young man to face him once again. He quickly undid the utility belt that hung about the tight waist, allowing his hand to linger for just a moment on the tight lower abdominals that were rising and falling with the intensified breathing. He slowly ran his hand up the defined chest, feeling the rock hard muscles under the uniform and with one stubby little finger traced the "R" on the firm left pectoral of the hero.
Lifting the young man's chin so that he again could look into his eyes the older man said with a raspy voice, "this is going to happen Mr. Grayson, you might as well admit to yourself that you're in a no win situation." The older man walked passed his prize and, placing the belt on his desk, took his chair once again. "Turn around." With no other choice, the young hero turned away from the mirror to face the oaken desk. "I'd like for you to strip to the waist for me now."
Grayson took two large strides forward so that he stood just in front of the desk that the short man sat so confidently behind. "What is your game? Why are you doing this to me?"
"I can see that you're uncomfortable son. There is no need to be. As I said, I am a fan of yours. You have nothing to fear from me. I find you incredibly attractive and although being here with me isn't how you'd like to spend your time, the way I see it, it is the only choice you have." The professor pressed his fingertips together and looked over the top of his little hands as he smiled a warm smile. "I am dying to see your smooth muscular torso bared for me. Please, remove that tight uniform and end my suspense."
The little man looked, without flinching at the buck standing before him. For years he had dreamed of having a young man under his control, never could he have predicted his fortune in having this one. An alpha male beyond all alphas with a body beyond that of perfection all to himself, with more than just a grade to hold over his head but rather his very identity and existence. He took a deep breath as the yellow and red tunic began to open and the flawlessly tan and smooth musculature began to appear. Now it was his heart, not the boy's that was racing.
Grayson took a deep breath as the tunic slid from his left hand to the floor. Standing before the desk of his professor he now wore only the small green briefs, green gloves and nylon leggings of his once proud costume. At just over six feet he was the picture of male perfection. His torso was ripped with definition and naturally smooth. Barbara had convinced him to use a moisturizer on his flawless skin that gave it a silken appearance. A slight olive tone, his skin was accentuated by the green hue of his briefs. Barbara had chosen yellow for him to pose in during competitions; he preferred green. Instinctively, as if on cue as they cooled with their freedom from the uniform, his plate like pectoral muscles bounced slightly.
Raynor nearly allowed himself the opportunity to drool at what stood before him. Stripped to the waist, Grayson's body was even more beautiful than he had imagined. Flawlessly smooth, skin pulled tight over the beautiful athletic musculature of the young man's body. He had the kind of chest that gay men like Raynor dreamed about. The heavy slabs of muscle contoured to a tight set of eight pack abdominals that rose and fell with the kid's breathing. Pert, but small nubs of nipple actually nearly pointed downward on the heavy pectoral shelf. The veins in the forearms visible above the gloves seemed more pronounced as the stress he was under made the youngster tense. The tweed slacks that the little man wore were suddenly tight with his excitement. This was happening. This was really happening!
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