The Himbo Model’s Release
Copyright© 2025 by Zappedfan
Chapter 7: Lokee Loses Control
“So, Mister Sales, you want to join us at State University?” Lokee asked play-acting the admissions interview with Blake, “What is it about State that interests you?”
Blake, sitting across from Lokee in his suit and tie began to recite the answer they had rehearsed. Lokee, smiled warmly. What a nice guy her brother was. What a kind, generous and friendly young man. She really did love him. Now, as he was wrapping up his answer, it was time to mess with him with questions they hadn’t rehearsed.
“Well, Mister Sales, you know college is quite different than high school,” Lokee started, “Can you tell me an example of when you tried doing something different?”
Blake was momentarily dazed. Lokee was sure he would try, somehow, to fit sports into his answer because that was his strongest area of expertise. And that was exactly where she wanted him to steer the conversation.
“Um, well,” Blake shifted uncomfortably in his chair, “I do different sports. Soccer in the Fall, Wrestling in the Winter, and Lacrosse in the Spring.”
“Yes, I see that, Mister Sales,” Lokee said looking down at her clipboard, “But you were in those same three sports last year as a Junior. And the year before that as a Sophomore. And the year before that as a Freshman. Why never football in the Fall, Basketball in the winter, and Baseball in the Spring?”
“Well,” Blake pauses then continues, “I’m not really any good at those sports.”
“So, you never even tried?” Lokee asked, “Why? Because it would be something new?”
Blake knew he was cornered. So he broke character and leaned forward.
“Lokee,” He asked, “What am I supposed to say here?”
Oh, he’s making this too easy, Lokee thought. He’s practically in a speedo already.
“Well,” Lokee said, “It would be great if you could talk about a time when you went out for a different sport even if you didn’t make the team. There’s still time for the winter sports before the interview. Could you try out for the Basketball team?”
Lokee was well aware that her school used a Junior Varsity system for basketball in which the most promising sophomores were promoted to the varsity team in their junior year. And Blake couldn’t try-out for the Junior Varsity team as a Senior. But she wanted to act dumb.
“No,” Blake said, “The open slots go the last year’s JVs. I’m too late for basketball.”
“Well, there must be SOME winter sport,” Lokee said knowing there was only one, “That doesn’t have a JV Team and has open tryouts.”
Blake sat back rubbing his chin. Come on, Blake, Lokee thought. You know what sport.
“Oh!” Blake said finally, “The Swim Team. They’re having tryouts, soon. I’m a lousy swimmer but anyone can try out.”
“Great,” Lokee said, “Not making the team is fine as long as you LOOK like you’re seriously trying out. Can you look like the guys on the swim team?”
Lokee knew every guy on the swim team wore speedos when they raced. But she wanted Blake to think it was his idea.
“Well ... I mean...” Blake was uncomfortable discussing this with his little sister, “They all wear those speedos. But, I wouldn’t be comfortable wearing one. They’re awfully skimpy.”
“Oh, I see,” Lokee took over, “You’re worried the Admissions interviewer might check with the Swim Coach and if you showed up in your baggy swim trunks, the Coach might say you weren’t serious.”
Actually, Blake hadn’t been worried about that. But now he was.
“I’ll tell you what,” Lokee started, “My bake sales website has been doing better than I planned,” That was true. “And it’s partly because of you wearing the hoodie.” Actually, it was ALL due to Blake and mostly because of the times he wasn’t wearing anything. “So, since this was partly my idea,” It had been ALL her idea, “I’ll buy you the speedo.” Actually, she had already bought it. “And it won’t be too skimpy.” A total lie. She had shopped for the skimpiest speedo she could find in his size. “You’ll only have to wear it one time.” Lokee believed that was true. “Anyway, nobody will come to swim team tryouts.” Lokee knew THAT wasn’t true. Most of the fangirls and fangays would be there to see Blake in a speedo that, if it does leave anything to the imagination when dry, certainly wouldn’t when wet.
“Okay,” Blake nodded, “Thanks, Lokee. You’re the best.”
During Blake’s weight lifting the next morning, Lokee made the announcement.
ADMIN: Don’t ask me how I did it, but IF the cake sales reach $500.00 before swim team tryouts, Blake WILL be there IN A SPEEDO. A ... very ... small ... tight ... speedo.
softgirlvibes: How much have you raised in cake sales, so far?
ADMIN: $380.00
sparklekitty: Come on, Team! Get those gift cards. Buy those cakes. We’ll get to see Blake in person. PRACTICALLY NAKED!
cheerstar99: Admin, I remember when we could buy a special order for $60.00
ADMIN: Cheerstar, you’re the one who suggested $500.00 for the speedo. BTW, this prank will be off his home property. So, it’s not covered by his Model’s Release. If you want any pictures or videos, you’ll have to take them yourselves.
softgirlvibes: Oh, we’ll take them. Don’t worry about that.
pinkheartemoji: Admin, can I ask for a special order? It’s kind of naughty.
ADMIN: pinkheartemoji, LOL! Aren’t they all? What is it?
pinkheartemoji: I’d like to see Blake grab his junk and shake it around.
glitterbomb: Oooh, pinkheartemoji, that IS naughty!
ADMIN: I hope you’re not taking about masturbating. I told you all, this isn’t a stroke site.
pinkheartemoji: It can be soft. I just want to see him touching it and shaking it around.
kawaii4life: I’d like to see that too.
Lokee thought for a bit. Then came up with the perfect plan.
ADMIN: Okay. After we reach the $500.00 goal for the speedo. I’ll get Blake to perform puppetry of the penis for all of you. And it will only cost an additional $240.00 in cake sales. Is that reasonable, Cheerstar?
cheerstar99: Why so cheap?
ADMIN: It’s going to be fun for me, too.
Soon Lokee had both the $500.00 to put Blake in a speedo and the $240.00 to make him waggle his willie. First, she had to plant a suggestion in his head. She did it at the diner table.
“Oh,” she said, “I found a new detergent that’s only ten cents on the dollar what we’re paying. Does anybody volunteer to be the guinea pig for the first load?”
Her mother, father, and Blake looked at each other.
“We can afford our usual detergent,” her father said,
“It sounds risky, dear” her mother added.
Lokee pouted then looked up at Blake with sad eyes.
“Well, if you really want to try,” he said, “You can do a load of mine.”
“Thanks, Blake!” Lokee smiled, “I knew you’d come through. So, I already did your whites with the new stuff.”
The whole family laughed.
That night, Lokee snuck into Blake’s room while he slept yet again. She went straight to his jock strap and coated the inside of the pouch with a thin layer of baby powder.
“That’s to make sure nothing escapes,” she whispered to Blake so low he would never hear.
Then she sprinkled a small scoop of itching powder on top of the baby powder.
“One tenth of a gram, Blake” she shispered, “Just enough to cause mild irritation and casual scratching.” Then with her mischievous smile and a shrug, “But what little sister puts itching powder into her big brother’s jock strap to only cause MILD discomfort and CASUAL scratching? So, let’s just double that dose.”
Lokee added another scoop of itching powder. Then she covered all of that with another layer of baby powder creating an itching powder sandwich in Blake’s Jock strap.
“That top layer of baby powder is to delay the reaction,” Lokee said, “We don’t want you scratching as soon as you put this on. It should take you about ten minutes to dissolve the baby powder in your sweat. Then it will be show time”
She walked over to Blake’s head and looked down adoringly and whispered, “I know you won’t WANT to take it out. Not in the backyard in broad daylight. You’re not a bad boy. But, Blake, I’m sorry. You WILL take it out. When it gets bad enough, all you’ll you’re care about is getting the fresh air to it. And that will help, it really will. So, like the company who made your jock strap always says. Just do it,”
Lokee left the room grinning and shaking her head in disbelief. Again, the prank was easy as long as she was willing to do it.
THE NEXT MORNING
Fifty fangirls and fangays saw on the website screen Blake’s backyard weightlifting fortress: tall wooden privacy fence on all sides, no neighbors in sight. Blake arrived at his usual time wearing his usual workout clothes along with Lokee’s carefully crafted baby-powder sandwich hiding 0.2 grams of potent itching powder and headed out to set up his plates
What Blake didn’t know: Lokee had escalated the prank to legendary status. A small GoPro was hidden in the bushes, perfectly angled at his lifting zone. From her bedroom, she opened the chat to the anonymous usernames, All across town their hearts were already racing:
Blake’s workout started strong—warm-up squats, music blasting. Sweat came fast in the mild winter air.
About 10 minutes in: A faint tingle registers. Blake shifts his hips, gives a quick pat over his shorts.
Chat lights up:
softgirlvibes: omg he just adjusted ... is it starting?? 😳
ADMIN: First little tingle. He doesn’t even know yet. Patience, chat.
12–15 minutes: Deadlifts. Sweat pours. The itch builds. Blake sets the bar, frowns, and scratches lightly through the fabric, face scrunching in mild confusion.
sparklekitty: That face!! “What the heck is this?” energy 😂
cheerstar99: He’s trying so hard to ignore it. Keep going, Blake!
18–22 minutes: The itch turns steady and nagging. Between sets, Blake can’t take it anymore. He glances around the empty yard—fence still high, no one around—then slips his right hand down the front of his shorts, past the waistband, under the jock pouch. Fingers find skin and start scratching directly: slow circles at first, then quicker raking across his scrotum and the base of his shaft. He leans forward slightly, left hand on his knee for balance, face a mix of furrowed brows and bitten lip. A quiet “ugh” escapes.
The chat erupts:
kawaii4life: HAND DOWN THE SHORTS PHASE!!! 😍🔥
glitterbomb: Omg he’s actually in there ... that’s so hot and desperate at the same time
strawberryboba: Look at his face—pure confusion + relief. I’m dying
pinkheartemoji: The way his arm flexes when he scratches ... send help 🫠
bubblegumqueen: This buildup is killing me. When’s the full reveal??
ADMIN: Soon. Hand-in-shorts is just the teaser. Peak coming up.
25–30 minutes: The itch hits maximum. The hand-inside wasn’t enough—sweat, trapped fibers, relentless prickling. Blake drops the bar after his final set, mutters “screw this,” and yanks both shorts and jock strap down in one frustrated motion. Everything hangs free in the cool morning air.
He spreads his legs a bit, both hands now on duty: one cupping and scratching his scrotum, the other raking along the shaft and inner thighs. His penis sways and bobs freely with every frantic movement—side to side, up and down—as he twists his hips for better angles. The skin flushes pink from the intensity. His face is a masterpiece: eyes squeezed shut in concentration, mouth open in a grimace of relief mixed with exasperation, head tilted back as he growls low, “What the actual fuck...”
Chat goes nuclear:
softgirlvibes: FULL EXPOSURE!!! I can’t breathe 😱
sparklekitty: Look at it SWINGING omg ... the bob is unreal 🔥🔥