14 year old Mark had come up with the idea of using the chronivac to teach lessons within a certain framework and that's why it was ironic that his 16 year old brother Tony and Tony's friends eventually used it on Mark.
It had been just over a year since Tony had had his original ultra skinny, homely faced body erased. Required to pick a new body, Tony had chosen the face of a male model named Tyson Ballou and had made dozens of changes to that model's body to make himself more athletic, though still just 171 pounds on his 6'1" tall frame. Tony was a 16 year old version of that male model but with wider shoulders, narrower waist and hips and hugely muscular glutes and calves for his slender frame. And Tony hadn't just designed his size and shape but also the composition of his muscles. He could sprint 100 yards in just over 10 seconds flat and dunk a basketball with ease. But inside, Tony was still the stick figure of a boy with giant ears and an oversize nose who couldn't get a girl to go out with him. He never became vain about his appearance even though girls sighed as he walked past as if he was the boy from Ipanema.
Mark was different. Mark became a 2 years younger copy of Tony's breathtaking new body with different color eyes just weeks after Tony had become a beautiful boy. But Mark hadn't been asking girls out unsuccessfully for 4 years plus, like Tony. Mark had barely started to pay attention to girls. His outlook on the world wasn't as wise as Tony's when he suddenly became the most handsome 13 year old boy anyone had seen. Where Tony had always been reading novels and philosophy books, Mark had played video games with friends. Where Tony had always looked out for Mark, Mark didn't think of things that way. Just as naturally smart as Tony, he was much less wise.
When Mark first became a 13 year old version of a model and athlete, he was reminded over and over by Tony to treat people as though he still looked like just another skinny, homely boy. And at first, Mark did try to be nice. But every girl in junior high walked past Mark either gawking at the gorgeous boy or smiling to get his attention. Teachers were nicer to him. Parents preferred him to other boys. "Why don't you invite that Mark St. Martin boy to the party" "Have you thought of asking out that Mark St. Martin boy?"
Gradually, Mark's insufficient reserve of reserve was exhausted. By the time he was 14, Mark was thoroughly accustomed to being regarded as beautiful by any and all he encountered. He turned assignments in late at school and knew that with a smile and a look in the eye, any teacher, male or female would let beautiful Mark get away with it. He knew he could get any girl he wanted and he acted accordingly. He smirked behind Tony's back at Tony laboriously courting his girlfriend Claire before getting her to do anything more than kiss him. What a sap! Mark went out with a score of girls. And score with them he did. Fellatio was each girl's minimum requirement for a date with Mark. It was well known. And yet there was no shortage of girls who regarded it as a small price to pay to get their hands and lips on the shockingly handsome 14 year old.
Mark's participation in ballet class had quickly become something about which he was not shy, but positively an exhibitionist. The school's instructor would have let her one boy dancer wear black tights or even loose sweats if he'd demanded. But Mark wore white tights every class. He went without a top or shirt half the time, too. He not only let anyone see his incredible little ass in his tights, he positively forced it. He could be seen before almost every performance at the school talking to the instructor with his back to the audience. He always found some pretext for a discussion with her that allowed him to show his buns to the crowd. Though he carried his part of the conversation with the instructor, he could have recited every ooh, ahh, giggle and gasp at the sight of his almost unprecedented glutes.
Claire saw him showing himself off to the audience before one performance and asked him about it afterward. In a rare slip of candor to her or Tony, Mark chuckled and said "Why not? Everybody in the audience wants to fuck me. I sort of like teasing 'em just a bit"
Claire was shocked at his attitude but realized, watching him closely after that, that it was what he really thought. She was further convinced when she talked to Tony's best friend, Jack. Jack's aging hippie parents still went regularly to a nudist camp a hundred miles away. One weekend, Mark subtly worked his way into going along on the trip with Jack and his parents. Afterward, Jack remarked to Claire that he'd never seen a more vain boy. Other people at the nudist camp had remarked about it to Jack. There was a fine line between lack of self-consciousness about your nudity and showing off. Mark strolled through the middle of every crowd, timed every saunter for maximum visibility, stretched and limbered up in front of as many eyes as possible and was generally conspicous about being conspicuous. Maybe some of the resentment was due to the 14 year old being so outrageously good looking, but most of it was due to his vanity about it.
Claire suggested to the Tony and the others that they really should adjust Mark's attitude before he became a pretty boy monster. Tony didn't want to accept that his little brother had become such a vain jerk, but Claire and Jack produced anecdote after anecdote about Mark's bad attitude. Even Jeff and Eric supplied stories about things they'd heard about Mark.
"Alright, what do you want to do?" Tony asked Claire. Claire smiled, thinking of Mark's statement that everybody wants to fuck him.
A week later, the ballet school was giving a performance at Mark's junior high school. Mark was backstage in his skin tight white tights and snug gold and white velvet top with his hair carefully styled for him, smirking in delight at the prospect. He would show his body to every girl and boy in school. The instructor had been surprised that Mark had actually suggested to her that they give a performance at his school. She thought his own school would be the last place a boy would want to be seen in tights. But Mark's vanity and exhibitionism need to keep pushing the envelope for satisfaction and this was the next step. It was an oddly timed morning performance and as at the ballet school, Mark found a pretext for going out in front of the curtain and talking to the instructor, turning his back on all 600 students in the process.
Mark heard the usual gasps and giggles from girls and didn't quite know what to make of the several loud yelps of "Ow!" and "Yeeowch!" that could be heard as every single person in the auditorium but Mark and Claire. She was at the back wall behind the last row of seats smiling over her laptop computer. Mark asked the instructor another question unaware that he was the focus of the audience even more than usual.
All 300 girls in attendance could feel their breasts tingling and becoming hard just looking at the 14 year old boy ballet dancer showing them his amazing ass. A couple whistled at him and a few others called out jokes about his rear. The boys were perplexed. Many of them knew Mark. But they didn't know Mark looked like . . that. And they told themselves that the funny electric shot each and every one had gotten (from the seats?) must have caused the erection every one of them had. While most all of the boys were embarassed at what was happening to them, a few shouted angrily at Mark. "Get back behind the curtain, sissy boy!" "Frigging pretty boy prima donna!"
Teachers of both genders also found themselves responding to this attractive boy.
Mark did go back behind the curtain. He danced his parts with all the athleticism he had. He wowed the entire audience with his tremendous leaping ability, grace and partnering of the ballerinas. The girls in the audience continued to respond physically to the sight of Mark. It was the first time some of them had become moist without the use of a finger down there. They became almost rowdy, cheering and clapping at Mark's each executed leap or lift of a ballerina over his head. A few boys derisively shouted "Fruit!" at Mark, but most sat their auditorium seats in shock at complete erections over the sight of Mark St. Martin and swirling thoughts of desire for their slender, athletic schoolmate.
When the last strains of Tchaikovsky died out, the girls in the audience, the female teachers and some of the male ones, gave Mark and the other dancers a standing ovation. The boys either rushed for the exits, sat there in shock at these unusual feelings, smiled at them and the sight of Mark or called him names.
His exhibitionism done, Mark bowed with the other dancers and then made his way backstage. He was uncomfortable with the way that some of the boys were calling him names. He looked for his clothes. And he looked. And he looked. To his exasperation, they were nowhere to be found. He asked everyone if they'd seen them. They'd been right there on a chair next to all the girls' clothes but now they were gone. Mark went back and forth from one teacher to another demanding that they do something to help him. But they wouldn't. They just smiled at him and finally, the principal, a bald, red faced man smiling at him more than any of the others simply decreed that Mark should just go back to class dressed like that.
"What?! Are you crazy? I can't walk around like this while everybody else is dressed normally?"
"While it's either that or naked, since you don't have any other clothes, my little apollo. You seem perfectly comfortable dressed like that. Just got to class. You look great"
Mark sputtered, looking at the other teachers, expecting one of them to help him, but they all chuckled at the idea. One spinster gave his white tighted ass a firm pat as he walked by and out into the school hallway.
Marked looked nervously around. He tried to inconspicuously make his way to his history class, but it seemed that every girl instantly noticed his presence and every single one within arm's length seemed to reach out and pinch his ass. Or if he was looking back over his shoulder at one of them goosing him, they would even rub their hands over the hemispherical bulge at the front of his tights. When he bent at his locker to pick up some books, two different girls swung an arm forward and jammed a hand up the crack of his spandexed ass.
"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?"
One girl back away. The other slapped her other hand on the outside of his right buttock and squeezed with both hands while laughing with delight. Mark spun around to free himself from her grasp. He was immediately pinched from behind by a girl on that side. It seemed that no matter which way he turned, there was a girl behind him ready and rabid to get a piece of him.
At last he made it into his world history class. Mr. Stavros, the history teacher looked at him with an odd smile as he entered. Mark wished he didn't have a seat at the front of the class but had to reluctantly take a seat as all his classmates watched him. At least the boys weren't calling him names. In fact, the boys on the soccer team smiled and nodded at him. When Mr. Stavros started his lecture, Mark relaxed. At least, he did for a while. Mr. Stavros went from talking about the Roman Empire to talking about ancient Greece. Then he told Mark to stand up. Mark was perplexed. Mr. Stavros told him again and further directed Mark to stand by the board in front of the class. Not knowing what to make of this, Mark reluctantly complied. Then, as Mark blushed, Mr. Stavros explained the attitude of ancient greek society to bisexuality. He explained that in ancient greece, there was no shame in a man appreciating the beauty of a gorgeous boy.
"Look at Mark" said Mr. Stavros. "He has the face of an angel and the body of a young olympian. In ancient greece, it was perfectly respectable for a man to lust after a boy like Mark so long as he was the dominant partner in their sexual relations"
"So" began one blond girl "if a man your age was on top of Mark, riding his rock hard little buns, nobody would think less of you"
"Exactly. Mature men were expected to appreciate the beauty of a boy like Mark just as much as that of an equally beautiful girl . . if there was one"
The class laughed.
Mark stood frozen in stunned disbelief at this discussion. What the hell's going on here? It's bad enough that I'm dressed like this, in my tights. Why is everyone so over the top?
The discussion of bisexuality in ancient greece and what they would do with a boy like Mark continued to the end of the class. When the bell finally rang, Mark couldn't get out of there fast enough. He walked quickly down the hall but still found himself goosed, pawed and pinched by seemingly every girl in school. Even one of the middle aged women teachers reached over and grabbed his ass when he was momentarily stopped by a group of dawdling girls. At last, a frantic Mark made his way into the library. It seemed like the safest place to spend his study class. But even there, things had gone crazy. The septuagenarian librarian met him next to the front desk and handed him a pass to fill out with the leathery palm of her hand pressed against the rough white spandexed front of his hips, the heel of her hand actually touching the hemispherical bulge at the junchtion of his legs and her gnarled fingertips pressing against the side plane of his muscular ass. He looked down in shock at her immodest touch. As he walked away to a distant carrel, he felt the old crone pat his ass.
Mark shook his head. This was too much. Is this what happens when I show my ass to everybody? Is it really this powerful? Holy shit! Mark was skeptical but vowed modesty in the future.
But his ordeal wasn't over. Mark rested his head on the desk top out of sight of the rest of the library. He was almost asleep when he heard a few deep pitched giggles behind him. He looked around just as two of the boys on the soccer team grabbed him. The bigger one locked Mark into a full nelson and then spun around to lean back on the desk. Mark found himself leaning back on that boy with only the tips of his still ballet slippered feet touching the ground.
"Hey! What the -mmmmmmmppppphhhhhh-!"
The other boy planted his mouth firmly over Mark's, kissing him and jabbing his tongue into Mark's mouth. Three more soccer team players suddenly rushed forward and they too took turns kissing Mark. He considered shouting for help but everyone was acting so crazy at the sight of him he thought anyone else might just join in. He struggled to free himself but couldn't and had to endure the soccer players reveling in fondling the hemispherical bulge of his package and his muscular ass. One boy even sank his teeth into Mark's behind to the delight of the others. One boy in particular, a boy from his history class last period, kissed Mark's neck and face, squeezed Mark's waist and generally behaved as if he was about to have sex for the first time with his betrothed. "Mr. Stavros was right about you . . you're so fucking beautiful . . there's no shame in fucking you . . no shame . . none" That boy was still nibbling at Mark's ear and kneading Mark's buns as the bell rang. The sound surprised the boy holding Mark and Mark was able to wriggle free. He grabbed his books and ran, slipping as he went around the corner in his ballet slippers but making his getaway.
The rest of the school day was almost the same for Mark. It seemed to him that everyone regarded his wearing tights as license to treat him like some piece of boycandy. He had to endure scores more pinche of his buns and several more kisses. He appealed to two different teachers for help but quickly realized, after just a minute's conversation, that each was trying to seduce him. "I'll give you a ride home in my car. You're such a special boy. It's too bad more people don't understand you like I do . . " But it wasn't just the words. It was the way they looked at him, like a starving fat man looks at a box of fudgsicles suddenly put before him, openly leering at the gasping ganymede asking for their help.
Mark was worn out by the end of the day and desperate to escape. When the final bell rang, he ran from the school and was chased by a pack of both boys and girls all the way to the front door of his house.
Tony looked at the crowd outside the front door and a relieved Mark attired in dirt smeared white tights. "What are you, some kind of attention whore, wearing your tights home from school?"
"Don't worry" sighed Mark heading up the stairs. "It won't happen again. I'll be happy to blend into the woodwork"