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1. Opening Gambit

"You're a bit of a wimp as an exhibitionist."

His roommate's comment caught Andy by suprise. As he struggled to
understand, he started to blush and squeezed out an ariculate "Huh?".

Greg smiled. It was not a freindly smile, more like that of a cat
toying with his prey. Greg knew he had  his roommate on the run. Greg
loved to play games, particularly ones where he could manouever his
opponents to defeat, the more humiliating, the better.

Andy was confused. He knew that Greg could be nasty, but he'd not been
on Greg's firing line before. He continued to blush, further
embarrassed that his speedo offered little camoflauge for the
spreading pinkness. As a blonde, it was hard to disguise. "What do you
mean, 'exhibitionist'?"

Flipping a pencil around in his fingers, Greg looked his roommate up
and down, dragging out the silence to accentuate his control. Waiting
until it looked like Andy was about to speak again, he responded, "I
thought you were supposed to be smart. Look at yourself and figure it
out."

Andy was indeed quite clever. His academic scholarship was proof
enough of that. But, he was not as quick as Greg. He fell further into
Greg's trap by opening his closet to have a look in the mirror on the
door. He looked back at Greg and asked, genuinely puzzled, "what do
you mean? I'm off to do my laundry, same as I have all year."

"Exactly." Greg was having fun. He'd hooked Andy and was now going to
play him for a while. "You're not on the way to the pool, despite how
you're dressed. Or, should I say, undressed?"

Still at sea, Andy protested, "but, all my clothes are dirty. Nobody's
complained, have they?"

"You don't see anyone else romping around almost naked when they do
laundry, do you?"

Missing for the moment that Greg had not answered his question, Andy
shook his head.

Waiting again for effect, Greg continued, "no. Nobody has complained
to me. But, why would they? What you wear is your business. Or, should
I say, not wear?"

"Then why did you call me an exhibitionist?"

"What would you call someone who parades around like you do?"

Andy was lost for words. He had never thought that there was anything
odd about wearing his speedo to do laundry. In fact, he thought it was
a good way to make sure he got all his clothes cleaned with the
minimum of fuss and bother. Labelling it was something he'd never
considered.

"Well?" Greg looked at him expectantly, reinforcing his control over
the agenda of the discussion.

Andy felt like he was getting the third degree. Although he had no
desire to play Greg's mind games, he was unsure how to get out of
this. He temporized, "well, what?"

Greg sensed that Andy was about to slip away. "What would you call
someone who is conspicuously underdressed in public?" Greg asked this
slowly, as if he were addressing a small child.

Andy now felt trapped. Another guy might have told Greg to take his
silly mind game and stuff it, but Andy was too polite. He had no dark
streak, which is why he was well-liked. Not able to think of any more
appropriate response, he gave in, "an exhibitionist, I guess."
Embarrassed by his admission, he turned his back and continued to
gather his clothing.

"So, you admit you're an exhibitionist."

"Whatever." Andy did not turn around, figuring that his best bet was
to ease his way out. Maybe Greg would drop this. He wasn't such a bad
roommate.

Greg wasn't going to drop it, though. He knew that if he let it go,
he'd not get another chance. Giving Andy time to think would not work
in Greg's favour. To win, he'd have to force Andy to keep playing
right now. "Strange that you're not very good at it. You're such a
winner at everything else."

Andy stiffened and slowly turned. Greg really had him confused now.
He'd given him a compliment, which surprised him. Greg rarely praised
anyone. Andy had always found him arrogant, but let it pass, as Greg
was, like himself, a top performer. Not sure what to say, he tried to
get Greg to explain, "winner?"

"Don't put yourself down! You're one of the hottest freshmen on
campus." Greg let the ambiguity setlle for a few seconds. "You've got
an impressive scholarship; they don't give those out to slouches. I'll
bet you were top at your highschool. Likely captain of the swim team
and on the bonour roll at high school."

Andy blushed again. He was indeed captain of his school's swim team.
He was also not only on the honour roll, but was also student council
president. Unlike Greg, he'd not clawed these honours out for himself.
They'd been thrust on him, and he'd gone along for the ride. He'd felt
a little guilty about how popular he he was, but it was such a good
thing that his protests had been only token. That had only made him
all the more charming to his peers.

"Yeah, I've been very lucky."

"Fooey. Luck had nothing to do with it. You're a champion in most
things. Too bad you can't control your hormones." Greg chose that
moment to turn his back on Andy, pretending to look at some papers on
his desk. Greg gambled that Andy couldn't let that one slide. He
figured it was a safe gambit, banking on his experience coercing
others at more conventional games: poker, bridge, chess, and the like.

"Huh?" Andy was intrigued. This was the first time he'd got any sense
that Greg had any respect for him. At the same time, it seemed Greg
had a handle on a weakness and might be willing to help him overcome
it. He had to find out what was on Greg's mind.

Greg was pleased at Andy's grunt. But, it was not time to respond. He
had to make Andy want to play. This was a key moment. If Andy walked
away, the game was over.

Andy had to know. He wasn't a perfectionist, but wanted to know why
Greg thought he was flawed. "Come on, Greg. What do you mean?"

Without looking up, Greg countered, "mean about what?" He then spun
around and put Andy under the spotlight of his intense gaze.

Andy was caught. There was no escape now. "You've called me a wimp, an
exhibitionist and said my hormones are out of control. Stop talking in
riddles."

"You've already admitted you're an exhibitionist. If you really want
to know, sit down and we'll talk."

Andy opened his mouth, about to complain that he'd been cornered into
calling himself an exhibitionist, though better of it and bent over to
shift some of the piled clothes on his bed. He adjusted his suit
before sitting down.

"There, you've done it again."

"Done what?"

"Flashed your butt at me and played with that scrap of cloth you call
a bathing suit. You're always doing that."

Andy was stunned. He'd never thought that adjusting his suit would be
taken as provocative nor as a sexual come on. Since moving into the
dorm, he'd curbed his preference for being completely naked, as he'd
sensed that it was not the norm. As an only child, he'd always had his
own room before and his parents had let him have lots of privacy. Dorm
life was a new thing for him, and after noticing that Greg wore
pajamas to bed on the first night, he'd started sleeping in his
underwear.

"I'll bet you wear that suit because it makes you feel sexy."

Greg had nailed him again. Yes, he wore the suit for practical
reasons, but he'd always liked the feel of it. In fact, when he first
started wearing speedos, he jacked off a lot because of how they made
him feel. He was more used to it now, after all this time, but it
still felt good. He could not deny that he liked how they fit.

"And I'll bet you spank the monkey in the shower after you'd had it on
for a while."

Andy cringed. How did Greg know that? Of course, he masturbated almost
every time he showered. It was the only place he seemed to have any
real privacy here. And he did have a shower just before collecting his
clean laundry - it seemed tidy to have everything cleaned up at once:
clothes, mind, body.

"What's sad is the way you play with yourself before then. All that
foreplay in front of everyone. You really are such a tease."

"Play with myself? Tease?"

"Don't play the innocent. You can't keep your hands off that suit. And
you like others to watch you preen. Why do you think you're so
popular? You're quite a show."

Andy was reeling under the weight of this observation. Adjusting
speedos was inevitable. They got out of position so often. All
swimmers did it. He'd not really seen himself as a sex object,
thinking that people were impressed by his swimming. Surely people
liked him for his personality, not because they lusted after him.
"Have you ever worn speedos? They tend to shift."

"Nope. I'm not the exhibtionist. You are."

"Hey, I'm a swimmer. That's what we wear."

"Swimmer? Maybe you used to be, but you haven't tried out for the team
here, have you? If you were serious about it, you'd be on the team,
wouldn't you?"

Andy had thought about trying out for the team, but had decided it
took too much time to swim competitively. He didn't want to join and
then find he didn't have enough time for his studies or to savour the
rest of what university had to offer. Joining and then quitting was no
good, so he'd figured on sitting this season out while he got his
bearings.

"I still swim twice a week. I can join the team later, if I ..."

Greg cut him off, "but you're not going swimming right now, are you?"

"No."

"I'll bet you don't swim more because there's not as much of an
audience as you get here in the dorm. Let me guess, you didn't do your
laundry in speedos before you got here. Did you?"

Andy was getting very uncomfortable. His speedos were riding up again,
but he was hesitant to fix them. Feeling very self-conscious, he
replied, "my mom did the laundry. It's the first time I've had to."

Greg chuckled, "are you saying you wore your swimsuit when your mom
did the laundry?"

"um, no. She usually did it while I was at school." Andy figured he'd
better wear more clothing while he did the laundry and started fishing
through the pile beside him.

Greg ignored Andy's fidgeting. "And now you wait until after dinner so
you can flash the whole dorm."

Andy stood, holding a pair of jeans, turned his back to Greg and
started to pull them on.

"Showing a bit more cheek than usual, I see. No need to get dressed on
my account. Besides, you'll disappoint your admirers."

Andy's suit had ridden into his crack whilst sitting. He stopped with
his jeans around one ankle, and tugged at the back of the suit. It
seemed there was no escape form this torment. He sat down again and
buried his head in his hands.

"Hey, lighten up. Nothing wrong with a little titillation. You asked,
so I was trying to help you out."

Andy looked up. "I don't know what to say. From what you've been
saying, I've been making a fool of myself. You make me sound like I'm
gay and horny all the time."

"Hang on. I never said you were a fool. Nothing wrong with being gay
or horny. By the way, are you gay? I've never seen you with a girl."

"I had girlfriends in highschool. I've not found one here yet."

"You're good at ducking the question. You should consider being a
politician."

"I'm not gay."

"Then why are you flashing all the guys in the dorm? Wouldn't it be
more effective in the girl's dorm? You must miss those steamy locker
rooms. I think you're confused, and you're probably a virgin. Besides,
I'm sure I've seen you checking me out." Greg continued his assault.
He remembered that Andy had slept nude the first night, but that was
the only time he'd seen him naked. Greg was gay, and he really did
like to watch Andy in, and out of, his speedos. By accusing Andy, he'd
turned the tables nicely.

"Why are you so concerned about my sex life?"

"What makes you think I am? You were the one who asked me about it."
He turned back to his desk.

Andy had a lot to absorb. Yes, he was a virgin. Yes, he did miss the
friendship of team sports. He missed the freedom of being naked at
home and in locker rooms. He had watched Greg a fair bit, but that was
to figure out how to behave - he'd not wanted to do anything that made
him seem like a weirdo. He liked being popular and didn't want to be
ostracized.

Greg's attack was very unsettling for Andy. He'd thought he'd fit in
quite well. Everyone seemed to like him. Until a few minutes ago, he'd
thought he and Greg got along quite well. Andy was now not so sure
that he'd made the transition from a solitary home life to the dorm
all that well. He wondered if secretly everyone thought he was a
buffoon. He decided to appeal for help, "what should I do? I'm not
trying to tease anyone. I just want to fit in. Please, Greg, help me
here."

Greg swiveled around again. "Allright. You need to do a laundry. As I
see it, you have three choices: dress normally, wear your swimsuit, or
go naked. If you dress normally now, after all this time, you really
are a wimp, and everyone will suspect as much; you'll have a hard time
explaining why you've changed your routine. Same goes if you change
your pattern and go naked - you'll have a tough time explaining why.
So, you really have to stay with your routine."

Andy nodded, as he followed Greg's reasoning. He was really beginning
to feel quite grateful to Greg.

"But, if you keep teasing everyone, sooner or later someone else is
likely to point it out, and then you'll be in a pickle. Because, it
likely won't be here in the quiet of our room, but somewhere more
public. You need to stop playing with yourself when you're dressed
like that. I know it'll be tough, so I have an idea - what you need is
an incentive. Are you interested?"

This was sweet music to Andy's ears. Greg was quite pleased with
himself, he had Andy exactly where he wanted him - hanging on his
every word.

"Yes. Please go on."

"OK. What I have in mind is a bet. Whether you win or lose you come
out all right, I think. I doubt you'll manage to control yourself, so
I'm betting you can't keep your hands off your swimsuit until your
laundry is all done and put away. If I win, you do my laundry as well
as yours, for the rest of the year. And, you'll do it in the nude, so
there'll be no more teasing. That way, you have an explanation as to
why you're running around bare-assed: you've lost a bet. If you win, I
do your laundry for the rest of the year, so your problem doesn't come
up again. What do you think? Is it a deal?"

Greg was an artist. He'd sounded like a compassionate older brother
all through this. Andy thought for a few seconds, smiled, and agreed.
Andy started gathering his laundry.

Greg wasn't finished, though, "one thing, as you've been at this so
long, I doubt you'd even notice if you touch your suit, so I'll have
to keep an eye on you all the time to make sure you don't slip up
without noticing. If I notice you starting to slip up, I'll tap my
nose."

"Thanks, Greg. You're a great guy to help me out like this."