Roommates on Lockdown Ch. 03

Over the next few days I really did try to imagine any other way to make cash. But, for the life of me, I couldn't. I soon returned to my mopey bedridden lifestyle as I struggled to find...Any. Other. Fucking. Option.

I looked in vain for job openings (there were none suitable to my experience). I even considered applying to be a delivery driver but decided it was not worth the risk of exposing myself to the virus.

Soon after our walk, Gabriel started bringing a coffee to me each morning. He had a fancy machine in his room that made very good coffee. He wouldn't come into my room. He would just knock and leave the coffee outside my door. I supposed he wanted to motivate me to get up or something. Well...the coffee was delicious. It had a unique flavor that I found strangely addicting. It did not, however, make me hate Gabriel any less (especially when he wouldn't reveal where he'd gotten the coffee beans or grounds).

After a couple weeks of searching, I found no miracle answer. So one evening I told Gabriel that I'd do it. He smiled at me in response and allowed his eyes to wander up and down my body. I looked away, a sinking feeling in my gut.

---

The next day, after finishing my dropped-off coffee, I went to work preparing for our first "session." Gabriel had me shower and supplied a specific shampoo and conditioner he recommended. I shaved my face for the first time in a month...though there wasn't much to cut as I didn't grow much facial hair. He wanted me to shave my legs as well but I refused. He wanted me to put on makeup but I refused. Every time I rejected a suggestion he would murmur to himself "in due time...".

Fuck him. Not in due time.

Freshly showered, I looked down at the white jeans and short olive sweater on the bed. I told him I wouldn't model in anything revealing ("in due time" he had replied - fucker). Still, I couldn't believe I was doing this. Gabriel had dropped off these items himself, noting that he'd picked them up from his studio where he kept a ton of his model's clothes. The jeans looked huge around the ass and way too tight around the legs. I told him they'd look really messed up on me.

"Trust me, Mishel. I know how to make girls look good."

"Jesus christ, I'm not a fucking girl, Gabriel!"

"Ahh but, today at least, you are." With that, he left, and I fumed.

With a sigh I began pulling on the pants. They had rips all over the front that made them hard to put on without snagging. But the pants did indeed slide on, fitting snug and comfortably against my legs. However I realized my boxer shorts weren't going to work. These things were so form-fitted at the waist that I needed something thinner. I put on a pair of boxer briefs that were a size small on me and made it work. As I fastened the button around the high waist, I marveled, from the feel, at how perfectly they fit me...I meant if I were a girl of course...

The fabric of the pants pressed against every inch of skin on my legs, from my ankles to my hips. How was this even possible? The fabric only had a bare amount of stretch. Yet they cupped my ass perfectly. I was surprised at the snugness in the seat, to be honest. Was my ass growing or something? I moved on to the sweater (Gabriel was specific that I shouldn't wear any item of clothing under the seater).

The sweater, at least, was thankfully loose, with a boxy-type look. But, it turned out to be too short, and so revealed about an inch of midriff. I felt my temperature start to rise. I told him NOT revealing...

After a minute I forced myself to let it go. We were helping each other out after all and it was just a small patch of skin

Well, nothing to do now but go to the living room. Thankfully Gabriel had said bare feet were fine and I was saved having to fight against wearing heels or something.

I really didn't want to see it, but as I passed my standing mirror I couldn't help but cast a side-long look as I passed by. Passing the mirror, I stopped, and backtracked.

Whoa.

If my head and face weren't visible, I would have said I was looking...that I was looking...

I gulped.

The white jeans clung to my legs as if painted on. The shape of my legs was...surprising. Slim thighs with just the right amount of muscle, smooth dainty calves, and a thin waist accentuating an impressively round and plus butt. It stuck out, sloping out dramatically from my back and sloping back heavily into my tight leg. I turned, showing my butt to myself. That was mine? It was almost as nice as Jennifer's...I wondered momentarily whether she'd be jealous of me staring at this girl's ass but then shook the crazy thought from my mind. I could just barely tell I was looking at a guy's ass.

I stood up straighter and pressed my butt out even more, taking away any resemblance to a man. In spite of myself, I laughed, but it came out as some kind of a giggle. I turned and faced myself, appreciating for the first time the sweater. The soft kashmere felt heavenly against my skin, and though it ended with an inch of my stomach showing, it was still very warm. Unlike the jeans, it wasn't form fitting, but the looseness, coupled with the shortness, seemed to accentuate the jeanes and the slope of my wide hips even more. My midriff also looked surprisingly toned and narrow.

I didn't think I'd ever looked this good in clothes before...Wait...no...What a strange thought...I felt a bit dizzy.

I took a deep, calming breath and walked out the door.

As I walked into the living room, Gabriel's broad back was facing towards me. Evidently he had pushed back the couches. In the middle of the empty space of the living room was a solitary stool taken from our bar.

I hesitated, suddenly feeling exposed and awkward. But Gabriel seemed intent on setting up his painting station and wasn't turning around anytime soon.

"Ahem." I said softly. I crossed my arms in front of myself, unconsciously trying to hide my body.

Gabriel turned smoothly and his eyebrows shot up. Not shocked, just...impressed. He scanned me up and down and I shrunk in on myself further.

"Interesting..." He said.

"What the hell does that mean?" I countered, instantly heated.

"Shhh...don't talk." He took a few quick steps so he stood in front of me.

I opened my moth to tell him to go fuck himself but he held a hand out, almost pressing to my lips, as he continued to examine every inch of me with his eyes.

"Shoulders back." He noted. Before I could stop myself, I straightened up. "Thrust those hips forward." He instructed next, though this time he actually pushed my hips forward. I felt his thick finger press against my pelvic bone as he positioned me, easily overcoming any resistance.

"Thrust out your chest." I did so and he muttered..."tsk..we'll have to figure that out."

"Jesus, fuck off, will you?" I replied.

He lifted my chin and I was suddenly staring up into his hazel eyes, which gazed back at me penetratingly. I recalled just then a time when I caught Jennifer mumbling that a girl could get lost in those eyes.

"Next time, we will do the make-up." He stated matter-of factly as he dropped my chin.

I blushed, thinking it an insult and that he didn't find me attractive. But wait...who the fuck cared!? I was about to object but he began to walk around me slowly.

For some reason, with his eyes so intent on my body, I felt my heart rate quicken. I was so exposed to this large man. And that's how I thought about him - large. Dressed as I was it was all the easier to compare my dainty frame against his large, solid, muscular body.

He made small adjustments to how I stood, touching each body part gently but firmly to have me move into his desired position.

"Walk for me." he said.

"What? Why? You're not filming me, your painting me."

"It is important for me to see." he said in his heavy accent.

I sighed and trudged across the room.

"No!" I jumped by the force in his voice. "That is NOT how a lady walks, Michelle."

"I..sorry...I didn't mean..." I stammered, taken aback.

"You must walk with the hips. Feel the way your hips and ass move as you walk. Imagine they are putting on a show. Your top half must be impervious to the show however. From your waist up, it is only confidence, grace, poise."

"I'll try, Gabriel." I said weakly. And I did. I probably walked across the room 40 times before he was satisfied. He took in my whole body but mostly stared at my hips and ass as I walked by, finally giving a sharp nod on my last attempt.

"Good. Now sit." He inclined his head towards the stool.

I began to swing my leg up over the top.

"A lady's chair is not a horse to be mounted, Mishel. It is a throne to be ascended to. Sit. But with grace."

What the fuck did that mean? But I held my tongue. I didn't want him angry again so soon.

I sat gently but he tsked. My face grew red.

"Move your ass back. I want it a little hanging off the back. Arch your back and push out your chest, as before. Yes yes, good. Now cross your legs. Good. Now drape one arm across your chest and have the other hang down. Good."

The instructions continued and slowly tapered off as I attained the position he wanted and Gabriel backed up to his easel. Soon he was making long confident brush strokes on the page.

I sat there, self conscious and looking down, but careful not to move my body otherwise.

"Beautiful, my Mishel." Gabriel encouraged and strangely I did find his words to be...well, encouraging. Though Gabriel soon put that comforting feeling to an end.

"Mmmm, you have such a beautiful ass, Mishel. I can only hope I am able to do to it the justice, yes?"

I felt myself blushing as a new wave of self-consciousness threatened to send me running to my room. But I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. So I sat there, stock still, waiting for him to finish.

It didn't come quick. He kept approaching me and shifting me gently with a soft touch of his hands, each of which would give me goosebumps (on account of me being ticklish). It got to a point where I really knew what he wanted. I anticipated his touch and adjusted as soon as he took a step towards me. Seeing my movements, Gabriel smiled at me.

His jawline was prominent - so much so that his cheeks almost looked sunken in. It gave him a very intense and serious look. But when he smiled...His grin really did split his face, showing off a full set of brilliant white teeth. It was such a charming smile that it was impossible not to return. Though my morbidity over my clothing did not go away, I did find I was becoming more comfortable here. Surprisingly I found it almost...enjoyable. Almost.

Which is why I was almost taken aback when he announced he had finished!

"Finished!? How? How long has..." I glanced at the clock and saw it'd been something like 3 hours. Jeez.

"Yes, come and look." He said to me, leaving no room for disagreement (though I didn't know why I would). I walked over to his side of the easel. I stifled a gasp.

It was stunning. Painted in vibrant and bold colors, the canvas displayed a confident and sexy young woman sitting on the stool just like the one I had just occupied.

"That's not..." I stuttered. "That...that's not me."

"What do you mean, Mishel? Of course it is."

"Nu uh. No way. I mean...look at her. She's...she's beautiful. And, and look at that ass." I pointed to the painted woman's curvaceous ass.

"Oh. I have been Mishel."

I glanced up and over my shoulder at Gabriel and was once again struck by how very large he was. He was gazing down at my ass! Then he glanced at my eyes and grinned.

"Stop that!" I hit him lightly on the shoulder and my hand bounced off as if hitting granite.

He just grinned back at me. A predatory look in his eye made me uncomfortable. "Anyways.." I said, straightening up and taking a step back "Are we done for today?

"We are finished the painting, Mishel." Gabriel raised an eyebrow and grinned. He stared down at me, a hawk staring down its prey.

"Good." I said uneasily. "I'm going to go change out of this ridiculous costume." I turned on my heel, intending to storm away.

Before I took 2 steps though, a hand closed around my shoulder, stopping me dead. "But we are not done for today, Mishel." Gabriel said softly.

Slowly, he turned me around - I tried to pry my shoulder free but it had no noticeable effect. Then I was facing him again, though closer than before. He stood towering over me just a few inches away. God...was I always this small? Or did the tight feminine clothing make me feel more so than usual. He was just so fucking big. He must have been twice as broad as me.

"As you know, Mishel. My models and I usually have a drink or two at my apartment after a shoot. Conveniently, we are already here." He waved his hand around at the apartment, as if proving what he said.

My mouth went dry. "I...don't really want to drink, Gabriel."

"Oh we don't have to. We can skip to the next...tradition." He grinned again, showing his perfect white teeth.

My mind flashed to all the models that Gabriel had walked through our apartment (and straight to his room). Each was more gorgeous than the last. But I wasn't up to that standard, was I? The thought was strangely exhilarating.

Then I thought of the screaming and moaning produced in Gabriel's room each night a model was over. The screaming and moaning that Jennifer and I had grown so accustomed to...so addicted to...

"I..." my voice cracked and I over corrected, shifting my voice to a lower pitch. "Gabriel, you can't...can't be suggesting what I think you are.."

"Ahh, but why not, Mishel? It has been too long for both of us, yes? And you are so beautiful."

He smoothly slipped a thick arm around my waist, pulling me even closer. His face was mere inches from mine now. His intelligent hazel eyes bore into mine. The dark five-oclock shadow on his face seemed to stand out against his strong square jaw. My eyes widened as my body pressed against his. He was so hard...everywhere...And I was so small in his arms...

"Gabriel, what the...what fuck are you..." I protested

His other hand slipped down to my ass and squeezed. I let out a gasp and my mouth opened. Then his other arm slipped up my back and his hand went to the back of my head. Pulling my face towards his.

BUZZZZZ... Our front door buzzer blared.

"That...That's dinner!!" I squeaked as I practically leapt away from Gabriel. "I...I'm going to get into my clothes now. Then I might go to sleep. I dunno. I'm tired. Yeah...okay...okay."

Gabriel was glaring at me, he didn't seem pleased. But I was getting out of there.

I turned and walked quickly to my bedroom, feeling Gabriel's eyes on my back and ass in the tight white jeans. I tried to keep from swaying it.

I shut my door hard and put my back against it, taking deep, fast breaths. What. The. Fuck. What the fuck! He can't fucking have been serious could he? Jesus but it sure had felt like he was.

Well, so much for that. I thought, starting to pull off the tight jeans. There was no way that I was doing this again. Not if fucking horny-boy Gabriel had that kind of reaction. We would just have to figure out another way.

---

I spent the next week avoiding Gabriel as much as possible. After that incident I barely wanted to be in the same room with him. For his part, though, he acted like nothing had ever happened. He seemed to treat me the exact same as he always had.

Determined to find a money solution other than dressing up as a fucking girl, I restarted my job search in earnest. But, of course, there was nothing. I was even lowering my expectations, significantly. Short of working as a grocery delivery person, there was basically nothing. I became discouraged - there was barely anything to apply to. And any applications I did make went unanswered.

I grew increasingly nervous. How would we pay rent? I couldn't make money. Gabriel had none. And he wasn't going to sell that fucking painting in any case. I didn't voice my concerns to Gabriel. I felt myself going through rapid emotional roller coasters. Resisting the urge to cry over the smallest things was shockingly difficult. That wasn't like me. Oddly, the confident demeanor that Gabriel displayed around the apartment (the little time I ventured out of my room at least) somehow comforted me. If he wasn't worried, maybe we'd figure this out.

Something was going on with my weight too. I'd first noticed it when I had pulled on those jeans for the shoot, but had increasingly become convinced that I was somehow putting weight on my ass, hips and thighs. It made no sense. I continued to eat very little given my stress, and indeed noticed my waist growing thinner. Yet my ass no longer fit in my old jeans. I had to wear sweats or shorts at this point (and was resisting the urge to try on Jennifer's jeans, which may in fact fit my growing buns). I experimentally tried on the white jeans I'd worn when I "modeled" (in fact I'd started doing that most days...to measure) and they seemed to be growing tighter around my ass and thighs.

Then, about 8 or 9 days after I had "modeled," I walked out of my room to grab a coke from the fridge. On my way I found Gabriel wandering around the living room on the phone. He was grinning and there was a kind of swagger to his step. As he turned to me his smile brightened further.

It wasn't fair that the biggest, most talented guys were also the handsomest. But there it was, he was good looking. Strong jaw, bright, mischievous eyes, a perfect amount of stubble and white teeth behind a great smile. Yep...extremely good looking. But I suppressed a grin back at him. I didn't want to give him any suggestions.

He hung up.

"I sold it!" He stepped over to me and put one large hand on each of my arms. His eyes blazed with excitement.

"Wha...what?"

"I sold the painting of you, my beautiful Mishel!"

I looked from one endless hazel eye to the other and gave in. I smiled. "Wow, that's great, Gabriel!"

"It is more than great, it is two month's rent."

My eyes popped. Someone was willing to spend seven thousand dollars on that painting of me?

"Yes, I know it is not so much, especially for one of my paintings. People are reluctant to spend on fine art right now it seems. But it is a start, yes?"

"Yeah, of course. More than a start. I...kind of can't believe it." It was true - who would pay for that strange picture of me. I looked across the room at the painting, which was leaning against the wall.

Gabriel followed my gaze, then looked back at me and grinned. He pulled me over closer to the painting. We stood looking at it.

"She is beautiful, no?" Gabriel asked, placing his arm around me and running a thumb up and down my shoulder. I shivered.

"I suppose..." I replied. And I did mean it. That was me? I still couldn't believe that.

"Shall we celebrate, Mishel?" Gabriels accented voice spoke close to my ear now, almost in a whisper. His hand slid down my arm and onto my back, descending towards my plush...

I stepped away from him. "Ummmm, not right now Gabriel." Without further explanation I walked quickly back towards my room, without grabbing the coke I had come out for. I shut the door and waited for my heart to stop hammering.

----

Though I kept drinking his coffee, I successfully avoided Gabriel for another long while. Yet I couldn't avoid him forever. A week or so after our last encounter, I was on the couch when he stepped in through the front door (I had thought he was asleep in his room). He was carrying bags of groceries.

"Oh, uhhh, can I help you with that." I said.

"No thank you, Mishel. What kind of gentleman would I be if I allowed that?"

So I watched as he unpacked the groceries. "Ummm, Gabriel? I thought we were ordering groceries in?"