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The Hollywood Agency Book -4-
Chapter 14: “A spanking good show”
As things turned out, it took three days for Mr. Meyers to decide that Troy should stop masturbating Callum in the office. The sexy model had arrived as usual for his daily tanning session and Troy had finished applying the mixture of suntan lotions to his body in Mr. Meyers' bathroom. Troy paused briefly to gather up the lotions he'd used and placed them together with a couple of bottles of energy supplement into a small tote bag and then led the way back into Mr. Meyers' office, Callum trailing close behind.
Then, following the routine that had been established in the last few days, Callum assumed the position he normally took in front of Mr. Meyers desk and waited for Troy to jack him off. He still wasn't comfortable having the little faggot masturbate him in front of the Boss, and he definitely was not enjoying the way Troy always managed to stick one or two fingers up Callum's butt while he was working on the model's cock, but he had to admit the boy knew what he was doing.
Callum never failed to shoot off in less than five minutes, regardless of how many times he'd already cum earlier that day. It was no longer the fact that Troy was jacking him off that really bothered Callum. It was what happened next.
Once Callum had shot his load, Troy would immediately rub the boy's fresh cum all over Callum's body. The first time he'd done that, Callum didn't think there could be anything more embarrassing than having a faggot fondle and molest him in front of Mr. Meyers as he just meekly stood there, doing nothing to defend himself.
However, later that first afternoon, he realized that he was wrong about that. There was one thing even more embarrassing - the way Callum smelled as coat after coat of fresh cum dried on his body.
As per Mr. Meyers instructions, Troy would go up to the roof every hour to reapply the suntan lotion. Each time he finished, Callum was invariably erect and Troy would proceed to jack him off again. Once Callum had shot his load, he had to work his fresh cum into his skin as he had been instructed. By the time Callum was done, four loads of ball juice had been spread all over his body.
Callum had hoped that the effect of the fresh air and the sunlight might dissipate the smell of stale spunk. Far from alleviating the stink, the sun seemed to aggravate it as it baked the cum into his skin. By the time he was finished tanning for the day and headed back downstairs, it was obvious to even Callum that he reeked of spooge.
The first day, Callum had asked if he could use the shower in Mr. Meyers' bathroom to wash himself off before he got dressed.
Mr. Meyers had flat out refused, telling the model that he was simply trying to avoid showering in the gym where he was now headed. It was, said Mr. Meyers, just another manifestation of his excessive modesty about showing off his body.
"If you want to shower before you work out, Callum," Mr. Meyers had told the boy, "you can do so at the gym." With that, Mr. Meyers had told him to get dressed and get going.
Of course, since all he was wearing was running shorts, flip-flops, and a fanny-pack, getting dressed only took twenty seconds. In less than a minute, Callum was headed into the elevator, keenly aware that he stank like a used condom. His appraisal of how he smelled was confirmed when he exited the elevator and walked over to the guard's table to sign out. Callum was still at least five feet away when the guard wrinkled his nose and moved backward.
"Jesus," the guard said with disgust, "haven't you guys ever learned about personal hygiene?"
Callum's entire body flushed but he forced himself to sign the visitor register before almost running out of the building.
“Fucking faggot," he heard as the door closed behind him.
The trip back to his car elicited the same stares as his earlier trip into the office had generated but now they were almost invariably accompanied by expressions of derision and contempt, at least from those who got within ten feet of the mortified model. The look of revulsion he received from the receptionist at the gym when he showed his membership card left absolutely no doubt as to what she thought of his condition.
He grabbed the towel which the woman gingerly offered him and sped as fast as he could to the locker room. He quickly stepped out of his flip-flops, slid down his shorts and then threw them and his gym bag into an open locker and literally ran to the showers. It was only after he had spent a good ten minutes soaping up and rinsing off that he could feel his racing heart begin to return to normal.
Callum didn't realize it right away, but, for the first time, he hadn't been uncomfortable about displaying his completely hairless body at the gym. He was far too concerned about the noxious odors emanating from his body to worry about that. Later, when he thought about it, Callum chalked it up as a sign that he was becoming less self-conscious about displaying his body in public.
He was making adjustments to his attitude, he told himself, just like Mr. Meyers wanted. In a perverse way, that made Callum feel good. His Agent was right, as always.
If Callum's change in attitude was the silver lining, there was nothing about the way he smelled after he finished tanning on the Agency's roof that wasn't part of a black cloud.
Callum knew it hadn't been an excess of insecurity or inordinate self-consciousness that made him embarrassed as he left Mr. Meyers office. The way the guard, the people on the street and the receptionist at the gym had all recoiled with contempt and disdain as he got within their proximity simply confirmed Callum's own perception that he smelled truly vile.
That little spectacle was repeated the next two days. On the third day, an elderly woman joined him in the elevator as he was leaving the Agency. Just about the same time the door closed on the two of them, she wrinkled her nose and turned to stare at Callum. A piercing look of disdain and revulsion contorted her face.
"You're disgusting," she said to the model, looking him straight in the face.
"You belong in a zoo with all the other animals. At least there they'd give you a good hosing down when you needed it. Like now."
Callum could feel his entire body turning scarlet with humiliation.
And she continued to just stare at him, shaking her head with disgust until the elevator disgorged both of them on the lobby floor. He stayed back as she signed herself out and then, giving him one final glance of utter contempt, stalked out of the building.
Meyers and Troy had been waiting for Callum to react in some way or another, and Troy had actually joked why even the dumbest jock would not simply bring a cum rag to catch the spilled seed. Meyers knew they had struck a pot of gold, a boy who was basically brainwashed by his parents and his teachers. Callum was the perfect puppy to train to be a good dog.
So it was that on the fourth day, just as he had assumed the position in front of Mr. Meyers desk and Troy was approaching to jerk off Callum's raging boner that the model finally spoke up.
"Sir," he asked, with an obvious hesitation in his voice, "I was wondering if it's really necessary for Troy to keep jacking me off every time he finishes applying the suntan lotion."
"The only reason it's necessary, Callum," Mr. Meyers pointed out sharply, having a hard time to hide his true feelings, "is because you can't help throwing a bone every time Troy applies the lotion to your body. If you could get your raging hormones under some sort of control so you didn't harden up every time Troy touched you, then Troy wouldn't have to jerk you off after he applied lotion to your body."
Meyers face did not give away the perverted joy he felt as he spoke to his sexy model. Callum, as usual, gave him a raging boner. He could not wait to feel the tight ring of the model's ass give way to his hard, thick dick.
"Yes, Sir." Callum admitted, knowing that he was blushing at being reminded of the effect Troy's hands seemed to have on his body.
"I know it's my fault but I can't help it. I don't know what's wrong with me – I'm pretty much hard all the time, even though I masturbate as soon as I can once I realize I've boned up, just like you told me I should do. I do understand that's something I have to get under control before you can send me to see a client. Couldn't you just make an exception for when I'm tanning. I mean, it's not like I'll see any clients on the roof-top."
"The fact that there aren't any clients around isn't the point, Callum," Mr. Meyers firmly responded.
"There are no clients around in the gym or at your home, but you jerk off there. Or," the man continued, narrowing his eyes, "is that it? You just don't want to masturbate any place. You just want to walk around with your hard meat tenting out your running shorts - is that what you want, Callum?"
Meyers felt his hardon pulsated in the tight jockstrap he wore under his perfectly tailored trousers. He loved to see the dumb jock squirm. "No, sir," Callum immediately replied.
"That's not it at all. I don't mind jacking off at home or at the gym. I mean, I don't like masturbating myself in a toilet stall at the gym, but I do it - just like you said I should. Every day. Sometimes, more than once a day. I don't like it but I do it. And I'll keep doing it as long as you tell me I should. I will, Sir. It's just.… it's just that I'd like not to have Troy jack me off, spreading my cum all over my skin every time he applies suntan lotion to my body."
“Oh," Mr. Meyers in a hard voice. "I see where this is going. You don't mind masturbating yourself, it's having Troy masturbate you that you object to. Is that it, Callum? I thought we were beyond that."
"No, Sir!" Callum denied with some vehemence "That's not it either. I don't mind having Troy jack me off."
Realizing what he had just said - that he had just said that he didn't mind being jacked off by a faggot - Callum stopped short. He could feel the heat radiating from his entire body.
"I mean," he corrected, "I do mind having Troy...." But before he could even finish that sentence the look on Mr. Meyers face caused him to shut up.
There was an awkward silence that stretched for nearly half a minute before Mr. Meyers broke it. "You were saying, Callum?" the man asked his model in a menacing tone.
Trying to collect himself, the model took a few deep breaths. Then, speaking slowly he began again.
"What I mean, Sir, is that while I'm not entirely comfortable having Troy, or anyone else for that matter, masturbate me, I have no objections to doing so when you order me to, Sir. The reason that I'd really like not to be jacked off now has nothing to do with the fact that it's Troy who is jacking me." Callum worded his answer carefully, even though it came out pretty awkward.
"Then I don't understand, Callum," Mr. Meyers responded with some asperity.
"What is the difference between getting masturbated now by Troy from all the other times during the day when you jerk off?"
"Well," Callum continued nervously, "it's that after I shoot, Troy rubs my jizz into my skin."
"You know why that's necessary, Callum," Mr. Meyers interrupted.
"We don't want your tan to be splotchy and, with the thick cream you shoot, we can't just let it dry where it sprays."
"I know that, sir," Callum quickly agreed. "It's just...it's just that at the end of my time on the roof, I.… I stink of cum."
Callum was visibly squirming as he made this admission, completely mortified that he was being forced to verbally admit that his body literally stank after he was finished tanning. “Really, Callum?" Mr. Meyers asked, with raised eyebrows. "I can't say I'd notice that."
At this point, Troy made his first contribution to the discussion.
"Actually, Sir," he said, obviously trying to keep a straight face, "Callum's right. He literally reeks of ball-scuzz when he leaves the office at the end of his tanning session. He smells worse than a twenty-five-cent hooker after a long night's work. He is truly rank when he comes back down from the roof." Troy played the game perfectly, and used the words he knew made Callum squirm the most.
While Callum was grateful that Troy was supporting him in the discussion, he was highly embarrassed by the receptionist's comparison of him to a low-rent street-walker. But this was hardly the time to pick an argument with Troy over his characterization. Instead, he pressed his point.
"Troy's right, Sir. I really do stink when I leave here. And people.… notice, too, when I walk by them. It's really embarrassing, Sir. That's why I was hoping you would agree that Troy didn't have to jack me off so I wouldn't have to rub my cum on to my body during my tanning sessions, Sir."
Meyers face had a bemused air. Secretly he was delighted by the number of times Callum addressed him as 'Sir' now. He took a quick look at his computer screen to savor the sensation of a picture he had just opened as Troy and Callum walked in, then he looked back at the naked athlete in front of his desk.
"Funny," he observed questioningly, "that I didn't notice how badly you smelled.”
Soon, he knew, Callum would be in the same position as the model on his screen. Meyers’ dick twitched about the prospect of abusing the dumb jock in front of him.
"Well, Sir," Troy volunteered. "You're on the other side of the desk when Callum comes back - a good six or seven feet away. That probably protects you from his body odors. But from where I stand when he comes down from the roof, it's enough to make you want to retch. I mean, it really is disgusting."
Callum had to literally bite his tongue as Troy spoke. While he was both surprised and happy that, for once, Troy was taking his side in a dispute, he didn't appreciate how Troy seemed to go out of his way to emphasize just how noxious the model smelled.
It was obvious that the little faggot was enjoying the extreme discomfort Callum was experiencing as the discussion of his body odors dragged on.
"Well, Troy, I guess I have to take your word for it that Callum really stinks of spunk when he comes back down from tanning," Mr. Meyers conceded. "I really don't see any easy solution. Callum needs to be masturbated before he leaves to go up to roof because we have to get his excess testosterone production under control. I certainly don't want him spraying his boy juice all over my carpet."
He paused and looked at Callum, "You weren't going to suggest that, were you, Callum?" he asked his model, his tone clearly indicating that the model's answer was expected to be in the negative.
"No, Sir," Callum dutifully replied, even though he actually believed that virtually any conceivable alternative was better than having to leave the building reeking of cum like he was now doing.
"No, I should think not," Mr. Meyers agreed, clearly foreclosing any further consideration of that alternative.
"We have to rub Callum's thick boy-seed into his body or his tan will be affected.” Troy interjected.
Mr. Meyers paused for a second, looking Callum over without any emotion.
“No," he concluded, "I just don't see any alternative to doing what we're already doing. I guess, Callum, you'll just have to suck it up and try to avoid getting too near to other people until you get a shower at the gym."
The model did not even realize how carefully his Agent had worded his statement. The single short expression “suck it up”, used in a totally different context, opened up a whole new world of ideas to the model.
It took Callum almost a minute before he spoke up again and broke the awkward silence.
"Well, sir," Callum responded, deciding it was time to broach the solution he had envisioned as a possibility. "Maybe I could shower in your bathroom after I come back downstairs."
He had decided his first idea was too far fetched to be suggested.
Mr. Meyers face immediately rearranged itself into a mask of shocked disbelief.
"Really, Callum" he began with some force, "I'm surprised at you. Here you are - and Troy, too - telling me how badly you reek when you come down from the roof and now you're suggesting that you should be allowed to stink up my bathroom with your disgusting body-odors. Prospective clients use that bathroom on a regular basis. I daren't imagine what they'd think if they had to wash their hands in my bathroom after you had befouled it with the stench of your testicular eruptions. I'm truly surprised that you would even suggest such a thing, Callum."
Callum seemed to visibly shrink under the force of Mr. Meyers' tongue-lashing. Even though it hardly seemed possible, his skin took on an even deeper crimson hue. Before he could even respond, Meyers was continuing.
"But even if you didn't stink as you say you do, showering in my bathroom wouldn't be an option. I'd already decided that, starting today, you'll be getting dressed in the reception area when you come down from your tanning session. Having you come back into my office just to put on your running shorts and flip-flops is simply too disruptive, particularly if I'm meeting with clients - like I was yesterday, if you remember, Callum, when you interrupted my meeting with Sam Walensky."
Callum managed to mutter a "Yes, Sir" as he recalled the distinctly over-weight man who had been in Mr. Meyers office when he got dressed yesterday. The man had turned and stared at Callum with a penetrating, almost feral, look that had totally disconcerted the model.
Something about the man made Callum feel particularly naked - and it didn't help matters that Callum was sporting a full erection when he walked through the door. Callum had mumbled a quick apology, yanked on his shorts and slipped into his flip-flops as fast as he could, and then almost ran out of the room. He wasn't sure but he thought he heard the sound of amused laughter as he hastily closed the door. Even Callum had to admit that he wouldn't want to repeat an encounter like that again.
"So, Callum," he heard Mr. Meyers conclude, "I just don't see any alternative to doing what we're already doing. Sorry."
Callum tried to keep the wave of disappointment and dejection that washed over him off of his face as Mr. Meyers announced his decision.
"Yes, Sir," he quietly responded and then, after a pause, turned his face towards Troy, expecting the assistant to move in and begin masturbating him as he'd done for the last three days.
And that was when, to his utter shock, it was Troy who came to his rescue. Well, sort of. He worded the idea Callum had had before. Callum almost did not believe his ears as Troy smiled smugly:
"Sir," Troy spoke up. "There is one possible solution that would take care of the need to keep Callum's hormones under control and not adversely affect his tan plus cuts down the way Callum reeks of ball-juice when he leaves the office."
"I don't see what that might be," Mr. Meyers immediately countered.
"Well, sir," Troy proposed, "instead of jerking Callum off I could suck him off. That way I wouldn't have to rub his cum all over his body."
There was a look of surprise on Mr. Meyers face as he responded to Troy's offer.
"You'd be willing to do that, Troy?" he asked. "You'd be willing to suck Callum's ball seed out of his hard boy-cock and then swallow it? Are you sure, Troy?"
Troy looked at Callum, just a faint smile flickering around his lips, seeing the wide open eyes of the sexy model and his clearly visible relief.
Callum seemed grateful that Troy had suggested what he himself had thought of, but , at the same time, was shocked that someone else had come up with the same disgusting idea.
Troy turned to Mr. Meyers, his face now taking on a mask of earnest self-sacrifice.
"Well, sir, I'm not anxious to do it... and I would certainly prefer not to, but Callum has a point when he mentions how much he stinks when he leaves in the afternoon. You always tell us how we should consider ourselves family here and I just thought that this was one way I could show my commitment to that concept. I know Callum has some problems with me - and I've had some with him - but I thought this might be a way for us to get past those difficulties. Turn a new page, so to speak. So, yes, Sir, I'm willing to suck Callum off - both here and up on the roof."
Mr. Meyers leaned back in his chair and stared at Troy approvingly.
"I must say, Troy, that I'm impressed both by your initiative in proposing this solution and your willingness to step up to the plate and help Callum out."
Then, turning to Callum, he added: "Isn't it great that Troy is willing to help you out by sucking you off?"
Callum had listened to this last exchange between Troy and Mr. Meyers with a mixture of shock, horror and a twisted sort of hope. Just the idea of having Troy's lips kissing his penis made his skin crawl, the possibility of having the gay assistant actually mouthing his entire cock and sucking him off was totally repulsive.
Only a small part of his brain was trying to digest the idea, was trying to think of the girls he made to suck his fat dick, the feeling of a girl giving in to his advances and suck his cum into her gullet made his dick jump again.
The possibility to walk out without a cover of dried cum sounded almost to good to be true.
On the other hand, he was considering himself a hot blooded heterosexual, and even though the little idea of face-fucking the faggot until he would gag on his fat pole was deeply embedded in Callum's brain now, he was still repulsed and reacted without thinking and exploded:
"No fucking way. There's no fucking way I'm going to let that little fag...."
Callum came to a dead stop, seeing the look of fury that was contorting Mr. Meyers' face.
"That's enough, boy," Meyers exclaimed, jumping to his feet and quickly moving from behind his desk. In seconds, the man was standing directly in front of Callum, his face just inches from the model's face.
Callum could see the rage in the man's eyes. For a moment he feared that Mr. Meyers was actually going to hit him. It took a full minute for the man to get himself under control.
Meyers took a deep breath and then took a step back. While his stance was now less confrontational, there was no question that he was still furious.
"I've warned you before about your attitude and use of that type of language, Callum, haven't I?"
"Yes, Sir," Callum immediately conceded, chagrined that he had so obviously lost control of himself in front of Mr. Meyers.
"Well, what have you got to say for yourself?" his Agent demanded.
"I'm sorry, sir," Callum replied in what he hoped was his most contrite voice. Then, turning to Troy, he added. "I'm sorry, Troy."
"That may be, Callum," Mr. Meyers responded, "but you've been warned in the past and that clearly hasn't been sufficient to keep you from repeating your despicable actions. I think this time more drastic measures are called for."
Then, turning to Troy, he ordered his assistant to get a straight-back chair from along the wall and place it in the center of the room.
"Troy, sit down," he ordered. Troy did as directed.
"I want you, Callum," he said turning to the model, "to stretch your body, face-down, over Troy's lap. As you know from the other day, in this office we treat unacceptable conduct with physical punishment and you've definitely earned a good ass-thrashing."
Callum could feel the heat radiating from his entire body as he flushed in embarrassment. For a fleeting moment he thought of refusing Mr. Meyers' directive, but he knew that if he did he would be ending his career with the Agency.
He'd come too far to risk that. So, despite the incredible humiliation he felt at the prospect of being spanked, particularly being spanked by Troy, he moved forward and prepared to lower himself across Troy's lap. Not before Troy spoke up however.
"Sir," the receptionist addressed Mr. Meyers, "Callum's body is covered with suntan lotion. If he lies across my slacks they'll end up being stained - and my shirt, too."
"Well, that's easily solved," Meyers responded with grim resolve. "Just strip off your clothing, Troy, and then sit your ass back down on the chair."
Meyers did not waste any opportunity. The footage of this would be worth thousands.
"Yes, sir," Troy replied. He immediately stood up and in less than half a minute had removed all his clothes. He sat back down and then glanced at Callum, not even attempting to obscure the pleasure that he was feeling at the prospect of spanking the model's muscled buns.
As Troy spread his legs apart, Callum couldn't help but notice that the assistant was showing a hard erection shooting up from his well trimmed crotch. Troy looked almost menacingly muscled to the nervous model, ready to give back the trashing Callum had given him before.
Visibly shuddering at the prospect of being in such close-contact with the obviously aroused faggot, knowing the tips of Troy's dick would touch his rock-hard abs, Callum lowered himself over the boy's lap. As he did so, he tried to steel himself to show no emotion throughout the up-coming ordeal.
Despite himself, Callum couldn't keep from gasping aloud when he felt Troy grab his junk and use it to manoeuvrer his body into the optimum position for spanking, making sure that Callum's big fleshy ass-globes were high in the air.
It was only when the model realized that his own cock was rigid in arousal that the full import of the situation hit home. Here he was, a one-hundred-percent straight white god-fearing American male, being physically molested by a raging faggot, preparatory to having his ass spanked, and he was sporting a full-on bone. He was mortified beyond belief. How could he possibly be aroused given his present situation? What was going on with him?
Before he could even begin to deal with that embarrassment another gasp escaped his lips as Troy brought his hand down with awesome force directly on Callum's right ass-cheek.
A high-pitched squeal escaped Callum's lips. He couldn't believe how badly that one slap had hurt. Instinctively, he moved his hand back to his now burning right butt-cheek.
"Hands on the floor, boy," Mr. Meyers ordered
Callum quickly lowered his hand back to the floor and lay there, tensing his buttocks, waiting for Troy's next slap, sure it would come soon.
Instead there was a long pause. Finally, Mr. Meyers spoke again, his voice tinged with frustration.
"You know the drill, Callum. Or at least you should, seeing how you spanked Troy's ass not a week ago. The person being spanked calls out the numbers and thanks the individual spanking him on each stroke. Now, begin again, Troy."
"Yes, Sir," he heard the receptionist respond above him.
Almost immediately, Troy brought his hand down once again on Callum's right butt-cheek. If anything, it hurt more this time than the last. But this time, being better prepared for the level of pain he could expect, Callum managed not to groan out loud. And he was sufficiently aware of what was going on that he realized that, as Mr. Meyers had directed, they were beginning again, so he called out:
"One. Thank you, Troy."
Without the slightest hesitation, Troy brought his hand smashing down on Callum's left globe.
"Two. Thank you, Troy," Callum dutifully counted, trying to keep his voice under control, shocked at how painful his ass already felt.
Troy's face was already glistening in sweat, displaying a malicious grin, and he knew the cameras would pick up his perverted lust in detail. The users would love seeing the sexy hunk grunting and moaning, and in the end screaming at this punishment and utter humiliation.
Ten minutes later, it was a shattered and broken Callum who was lying atop Troy's lap. Mr. Meyers had finally called an end to the spanking at the count of fifty. By that time, Callum was literally shrieking every time Troy's hand collided with the bruised and burning flesh of the model's ass. Early on, Callum had tried to affect an air of stoicism but that quickly dissipated as the pain of the spanking inexorably mounted.
By the count of thirty, Callum was crying openly. By forty, he was sobbing like a child, begging Troy to stop.
By fifty, Mr. Meyers was becoming concerned that they might actually attract the attention of the authorities drawn by the screams of a person who, judging from the sounds emanating from the Agency's office, was obviously being tortured.
Finally, he decided he had to bring the spanking to a conclusion, even though Troy hadn't yet been able to force an orgasm from the writhing and squealing model, though judging by the speed with which he was now jerking Callum's leaking cock, Troy had to be getting close.
Troy looked up at him when he called a stop to the spanking with obvious annoyance.
Clearly, he had been looking forward to completely humiliating the model by forcing him to cum while he was being spanked.
John Meyers had to admit to himself that he'd been looking forward to that too. Then again Meyers didn't need another confrontation with the building management. The old biddy that ran the ad agency directly beneath the JM Modeling Agency was constantly complaining about the awful noises that frequently came from the rooms above her offices.
'I don't know what they're doing up there,' she'd told the building superintendent, 'but sometimes it sounds like a full-blown orgy and other times like they're enacting a scene from the Spanish Inquisition.'
Doubtless, the bitch was a frustrated old maid who needed a good fucking to keep her happy, but that was one hole Meyers had no interest in plumbing. While it might be amusing to send one of his boys down to give her cunt a good workout, he didn't want to give any of his models the idea that servicing pussy - real pussy - was ever going to be part of their future at the agency, not even one as dried up and unappetizing as hers.
His boys were being trained and groomed to service cock - and only cock - and he didn't want anything to interfere with his training regimen. So, rather than face another confrontation with the bitch, Meyers thought it would be wise to bring Callum's first spanking session to an end, even if somewhat prematurely.
While he shared some of Troy's disappointment, he consoled himself with the knowledge that there would be many more times in the next few months when Callum would be getting a spanking. Meyers would make sure of that.
He already knew his users online wanted to see Callum get put down, and Meyers might provoke numerous opportunities to see Callum cum while getting his ass thrashed. The white, dumb, homophobic, corn-fed jock was the perfect target for the users darkest desires.
“A true epiphany, a manifestation of the merciless boys that had tormented the users during their childhood years and their time at school and college”, one user had commented on Callum's successful website.
Today, those same boys who had suffered at the hands of the dumb jocks, the coaches and neighbourhood kids, were grown-ups, rich and powerful enough to pay to make their most depraved wishes come true.
Besides, Meyers remembered with a smile, there was still Callum's blow-job to look forward to. That, at least, ought to mollify Troy a little.
For a moment, Meyers took his focus off Callum and considered his son.
Troy was standing in the middle of the room, waiting for more instructions. He looked brutally intense with his arms folded, as if he claimed to emphasize his muscles to the young man he had just trashed.
Meyers knew Troy was such a mass of contradictions. He hated getting fucked and truly loved brutally pounding straight-boy ass.
He really disliked being at any other guy's beck and call - which was one of the reasons John Meyers had insisted on maintaining his dominance over his son as the price of making him his business partner.
He always got such a kick out of forcing Troy to sexually submit to him. Troy really hated doing it. So, based on all that, you'd think Troy was a complete and total top.
Somewhere along the way though, the boy had also developed a real taste for cum and was more than happy to suck dick to get it, as long as the boy he sucked off was really squirming for release and desperate to cum. He was really good at it, too, as his Dad could himself attest.
Troy wasn't averse to eating out a nice sweaty ass, either, though it was only as foreplay until he invariably raped it with a vengeance.
The only way Meyers had been able to reconcile Troy's general dominance in sex with his role as an avid cocksucker and butt-licker was that, regardless of whether or not Troy was banging a guy's butt, eating him out, or sucking his dick, Troy always wanted to remain in control.
He was a master at drawing out a blowjob until the guy he was sucking literally begged to cum.
Almost invariably, once he finally let the dude blow a load he'd flip him over and give his ass a vicious and totally unrestrained hard fucking. It was even more pleasurable for Troy to feel that the guy being fucked was more likely to find the ass-pounding he was enduring even more painful than normal, since he'd already blown his nut.
Troy would often draw the fuck out long enough for the dude to recharge, so Troy could force the added humiliation on his victim of making him cum while he was being screwed like a back-alley whore.
Today, of course, Troy wouldn't be able to follow his preferred pattern. It was way too early to introduce Callum to his future role as a bottom-bitch and, besides, Meyers fully intended to be the man who popped the punk's boy-cherry.
So Troy would have to be satisfied with merely sucking the hot cum out of Callum's over-worked balls. Knowing Troy, Meyers figured he'd be able to live with that.
It was certainly something Meyers, and his subscribers, would enjoy seeing.
Looking back to Callum, Meyers was amused to see him simply standing there, staring at the floor, clearly concentrating all of his efforts on not reaching back and massaging his burning buttocks.
They still had that purplish tinge that always accompanied a really good ass-thrashing.
They probably hurt like hell and Callum was going to find sitting down painful for at least the next two days, to say nothing of the agony Callum was going to be enduring later that afternoon when he was working out at the gym.
Meyers couldn't resist smiling as he visualized the boy squirming in discomfort as he sat at the bench press, trying to concentrate on working his chest muscles when all he could really focus on was the excruciating pain radiating from his battered and bruised butt.
His fellow athletes at the gym would certainly hear different grunts and moans today, not grunts of concentration while pumping the weights, but grunts of discomfort. Some might recognize their own moans while being fucked. Meyers envisioned the other young, muscled athletes looking at Callum, adding to his discomfort.
The boy wasn't going to be able to forget his first spanking as one of JM Agencies models for a long time.
That wasn't the only thing Callum was going to remember this session for:
It was also going to be the first time Callum popped a load of his thick creamy boy-seed into another dude's mouth. Meyers knew it was time to move on to Callum's first gay blowjob.
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