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The Hollywood Agency Book -6-
Chapter 22: "Opening Performance"
The look of horror on Callum's face had been replaced by a mask of raw terror. The two men in the room with him saw that he could not even remotely fathom what he had done by signing the contract. What Mr. Meyers just had told him seemed like it was pure fiction made up to scare him, seemed outlandish, unreal, but Callum realized by the grim looks of his Agent that he had made a grave mistake when he signed a contract without consulting the Agencies' Boss.
"Oh, my God, sir," he moaned, slowly realizing what the party at Walensky's home would mean.
"I can't do that. No fucking way. I can't. I just can't." Callum's voice was breaking as he was about to sob out the last few words.
Troy listened in, still concentrating on his role. He sat passively, drank in the sight of the naked, scared, visibly shaking Callum, the big, muscled, dumb beast of a corn fed Midwestern farm boy who wanted to turn himself into an aspiring model.
Callum looked deliciously defenseless to the manipulative father and son duo as he now took the next step to be one of the best paid whores the world had seen so far.
Troy closed his eyes and remembered the day Keith had realized what a mistake he had made, the day Keith wanted to bail out, the day Keith wanted to start to revolt against the reins of a contract he had signed without carefully reading it, just like Callum.
Troy gave a silent sigh to himself, remembering how hard he had wanted Keith to be a success, how he wanted Keith to be his Dad's new plaything, bed partner, distraction from Troy's own ass, but Keith had decided to revolt.
The boy had been a pure, cornfed farm boy, looking much younger than his eighteen years. Troy thought back to the day the sexy young man had first stripped in front of Mr. Meyers’ desk, a perfectly shaped young athlete with the face of an angel.
John Meyers did not waste any time, Troy vividly remembered. Keith career had taken a sharp downward curve, from modeling designer clothing, beach ware and the occasional jeans, to being filmed in heavy chains, bondage gear, videotaped as he got fucked senseless by men or machines, serving under the strict regimen of a porn studio that had paid Meyers a nice down payment and added a nice percentage the take from of each film.
Keith, now known as “White Slave”, “White Tarzan” or sometimes “American toy” was filmed in the most perverted videos the Dark net showcased, mostly done in Thailand, were the studios were specialized in catering for the more sophisticated demands of the wealthy customers.
While his Dad worked the shaken Callum, Troy leaned back and thought about the last film he had seen of Keith. The video had been a fantasy, dreamt up by a creative author, combining the ideas and obsessions of several customers that usually paid hefty sums for the newest videos the studio produced.
This time “The White Slave”, Keith, was shown on a stage, in front of an audience of rich looking, well dressed Asian men. The viewer of the video could not see if the men were actors or a real audience, but their appearance just added to the thrill.
The actor handling “The White Slave” was a dark haired, smug looking and very well hung man of maybe 30. He wore just high black leather boots and a harness, fitting perfectly to show his deep cut abs. Troy, watching the video, counted 8 and estimated the man's dick measured a hefty 10 or 11 inches, hanging down a little under its own weight, even though it was clearly aroused.
Keith's dick was, much to Troy's surprise, hard as steel and pointed up, so his nuts were a nice and easy target, but the handler working the boy for the film had already decided to play fair and just hit Keith's hard muscled abs, giving him the chance to tighten them to reduce the impact, but spare his vulnerable privates.
He just landed a few hard blows to make Keith grunt out loud before the 'slave's' muscle tension was gone, he lost concentration, and the viewers saw why. Another actor, also playing a slave trainer, had started to open up and grease Keith's ass.
When Troy had seen the video for the first time he was more than surprised and highly fascinated by the rough scene unfolding in front of him, starting to follow the example of several of the patrons on screen, watching their fantasies taking place in front of them.
Troy jerked his dick along with them.
The actor playing the younger handler had taken the gloves off and walked around the wooden stocks where Keith stood upright, helplessly cuffed and tied into the frame that forced him to stand like an X.
The actor watched as the other man just pushed his well greased hand right through Keith' muscle ring, as he slowly worked his own hardon in eager anticipation.
The boy screamed for a second and passed out. The man fisting him smiled a little in well rehearsed fake embarrassment and asked:
"Oh, don't tell me he wasn't broken in?“
It was all part of the show, but the audience could not know this. The first men watching had already spilled their cum, and closeup cameras had done a great job in filming the reactions of the perverted viewers, clearly waiting for their own turn to abuse the helpless, sexy American hunk.
Meanwhile Keith slowly woke up again, realizing what just took place. Evidently the man had taken advantage of the passed out boy without a second thought, and now Keith realized that he was being fistfucked deeply, much to the amusement of the patrons.
The man working Keith's ass showed his talent as an actor, smiling a little insecurely after he had made the faux pas of making the boy pass out, but the fellow actor on stage encouraged him, also following a script that even raised the bar of perversion to thrill the audience even more:
"Go ahead and fuck him, I insist.... he's my stepson and he needs the experience!“
The script wanted the actor to pretend he worked his stepson into submission, and the man delivered the lines he had rehearsed flawlessly.
Since the actor's dick was already hard and he had greased up the ass he was about to use, he slid it in, ballsdeep, all the way. Keith grunted as his eyes shot open again, and several men watching applauded. Many of them took pictures or even videos. The pair of hot studs on stage, the fucker as well as the fuckee, were just too sexy to ignore, and many onlookers jerked off as they watched the hard fuck.
Several porn stars and even a few more hustlers had been hired to serve the rich members and now an epic orgy started, filmed by several cameras, as Troy knew. One of the porn stars, troy remember well. The muscular man had fucked Keith especially hard and was hired in several films afterwards.
Troy remembered vividly how he had moaned as he watched the film for the first time, and now, back in the reality of his Dad's office, he knew he had to concentrate again to see what happened with Callum. Troy knew perfectly well that, this time, his Dad would not allow any mistakes.
"I can't do that. No fucking way. I can't. I just can't." Callum had just uttered, humiliated, but still fighting.
"No," Meyers replied with undiminished anger.
"I didn't think you could. You talk a big game about being ready to do anything for your career but, when push comes to shove, I always figured it was just talk. Well, that's okay, Callum. It surely is. Not everybody is willing to make the sacrifices necessary to really succeed in this business. Not everybody has what it takes to make it big.”
Meyers took a deep breath:
“That I could have lived with. But what you did was commit yourself – and this Agency – to a contract that you didn't fully understand and which you're now unwilling to fulfill. By doing that, you've not only torpedoed your own career, you've basically destroyed this agency, too."
"It can't be that bad, Sir. Can it?" Callum asked in a small voice, almost like a child, not like the muscular man he was. It was clear that his world came crashing down on him, shattering his ego, making his dreams burst into flames.
"Oh, it's that bad, Callum," Meyers assured the boy. Troy listened in attentively, his breathing low and silent, trying not to draw attention at himself, camouflaging like a Ninja, blending in so Callum forgot his adversary was even there. "To be honest, it's hard to see how it could be any worse. What you've done is sign a contract committing you, and through you this agency, to sexually entertain six of the leading figures in the modeling business in this town. This is not something you were forced to do, this was something you did on your own, voluntarily. NOW, you're trying to renegotiate that deal. How am I supposed to explain that one to Walensky?"
"Well, Sir," Callum suggested, "you could maybe just say that I've changed my mind."
"You changed your fucking mind? That isn't an explanation – it's a fucking excuse," Meyers shouted at the abashed boy in a display of feigned anger that Callum believed word for word, visibly shaking by now.
"Obviously, you've changed your mind. The question that they will want answered is 'why did you change your mind?'"
"Couldn't you just tell them that I don't want to get fucked," Callum asked. "That I'm not into that."
"Why don't I just tell them that you're straight, Callum," Meyers replied scornfully.
"Why don't I just come out and admit that I was trying to pull a fast one on Walensky, get him to accept a straight guy as gay so he'd overlook the homophobic tirade you let loose the first time you were there. Yeah, that's it," he added sarcastically.
"You, me – the entire Agency – we were all just lying to him, setting him up so that he could make a fool of himself by offering you a personal entertainment contract. You think that's what we should do, Callum? Tell Walensky the joke's on him. Oh, I bet he'll really will love that."
"No, sir," Callum conceded, his tone now one of abject mortification.
"I know we can't tell him that, sir."
"Then what the fuck do you suggest we tell him, Callum? How am I supposed to explain why you're canceling the engagement?" Meyers face was glowing red with rage.
Callum offered:
"Couldn't you say that I didn't realize what I was agreeing to when I signed the contract, that I didn't understand what a personal entertainment contract involved? I mean, that's actually true."
Mr. Meyers shook his head as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"And how's that supposed to help, Callum? First off, I'd be admitting that I'm sending models out to interviews without providing them with basic information about their profession, information any model would be expected to fully grasp. More to the point, so what if you didn't fully understand what you were agreeing to?”
Meyers went on without giving Callum a chance to answer to this rhetorical questions:
“Even if you didn't understand what a personal entertainment job entailed when you signed the contract, it still doesn't explain why you're not willing to fulfill the contract now that you do know.”
He glared at Callum:
“You told Sam that you're gay. You even told him that you've been fucked before. So, from his point of view, what's your problem?"
Meyers paused for a second to make sure Callum grasped what he had heard. Troy saw just how masterfully his Dad played with the dumb jock.
"Before you even say it, Callum," Meyers continued, "let me shoot down any suggestion that we try arguing that even though you're gay you just don't believe in exchanging sexual favors for career advancement. You just finished sucking Walensky off – twice, in fact. While Sam may well believe you are gay, he's not sufficiently narcissistic enough to think that the reason you blew him was because you were so physically attracted to him and you couldn't help yourself.”
Meyers again waited a second to make sure Callum understood.
“The man can look in the mirror. There's no way Sam is going to believe that the reason you're backing out of the entertainment contract is because you're morally opposed to prostituting yourself when you've already played the whore for him."
Hearing Mr. Meyers describe his actions in such stark terms made Callum finally face the reality of what he'd done earlier in the day. He'd prostituted himself to another man. He'd got down on his knees and took the man's cock in his mouth and sucked him off until he shot down his throat, even though the mere thought of doing all those things made his skin crawl.
He did it solely to advance his career, or more accurately, to save it.
He'd already turned himself into a whore and he would have continued whoring himself out – not only to Mr. Walensky but to all his guests – if they only wanted Callum to simply and solely blow them.
It wasn't acting the part of a faggot boy-slut that bothered him, he was already doing that anyway.
He had to face the fact that he was afraid of getting ass-fucked. He had to admit it: He liked to hear the grunts of pain when he fucked a tight ass, but he feared to be grunting in pain himself. He simply had to face it.
Suddenly, for the first time since the possibility had been raised, Callum wondered whether he should just go ahead and do it. It was obvious from the way Mr. Meyers was acting that if he didn't, not only was his career over but, very likely, his actions would destroy Mr. Meyers' business.
After all the man had done for him, all the work he'd put into training and grooming Callum for a modeling career, Callum felt as bad about that as he did about leaving his own career in tatters. All this because he wouldn't bend over and let some gay guys fuck his ass?
Callum didn't want to get fucked. The thought of having another man's cock shoved up his ass made him literally sick to his stomach. But then he'd gotten himself into this mess.
He'd gotten the entire agency into this mess.
It was pretty obvious now that there was only one way out of this mess that didn't involve ruining his own future and Mr. Meyers business. 'It won't make me a faggot,' he tried to tell himself. 'A faggot would enjoy getting fucked. I'm going to hate it. I'm doing it because I have to in order to save my career. I'm doing what I have to do to make it in this world – what a real man would do.'
While Callum had been working all this out in his mind, Mr. Meyers had been verbally running through every possible option, discounting each one after only a brief consideration. Callum had heard what his Agent said and realized his limited options.
With a sigh, Meyers shook his head:
"Probably the best thing to do is just tell Walensky the truth. God knows it will rupture any relationship this Agency has with him, but it might limit the fallout with other hiring agents. I don't see any other viable option."
Callum looked at the man who he admired so much, who had done soo much for him. He swallowed hard and then he said it. "I'll do it, sir."
"No, Callum," Mr. Meyers immediately replied.
"You've done enough damage today. I'll tell him. After all, the deception was pretty much my idea in the first place. I should be the one who tells Sam."
Troy held his breath. Now or never, that much was clear.
"No, sir," Callum retaliated fiercely as he had now made up his mind. He wanted to fight, he wanted to persuade his Agent that he was no failure, no coward. He wanted to win Meyers over so he would be able to follow his path to a huge career in the modeling business. All he needed to do was to convince his Agent to give him one more chance, and so he stood, upright, his fists balled, not thinking about his nakedness, his insecurity forgotten, and said forcefully:
"I wasn't suggesting that I tell Mr. Walensky that I'm really straight. I was saying that I'll do it. I'll fulfill the contract. I'll let Mr. Walensky and his friends fuck me."
"Say what?" Mr. Meyers asked, in real surprise, now that his masterful plan worked even better than he had anticipated.
"I'll do it, sir," Callum repeated strongly. "I'll let them fuck me."
Mr. Meyers just stared at Callum for a good minute. Then, reverting to the fatherly tone he'd assumed many times in the past, he responded to Callum's offer.
"Callum, I can't tell you how much it means to me that you're willing to go ahead with the contract, even though it involves subjecting yourself to demeaning and revolting sexual use, over and over again, all night long. It shows me just how committed you are to your career. I'm afraid I can't let you do that."
Having steeled himself to go and fulfill the terms of the personal entertainment contract, the last thing Callum expected to hear was Mr. Meyers telling him that he couldn't let him go through with it.
He was completely stunned and it showed in his face. It took him a few seconds to recover from his shock before he could reply.
"No, Sir. Really," he pleaded with the man. "I want to fulfill the contract. I signed it, I'm the one who got us all into this trouble in the first place. I should be the one who gets us out of this mess. It's okay if they all fuck me. I'm willing to let them do that."
"Callum," Meyers explained,
"it's not that I still doubt your willingness to go through with the contract. That's not the problem. The problem is that you have no experience being fucked.
It hurts. Particularly the first few times. And it's not like you can just lie there and passively let them fuck you!
You have to be responsive, you have to act as if you're having a good time. You have to be able to convince them that you enjoy having them fuck you – that you want them to fuck you. You have to be able to play a power bottom for those experienced fuckers!”
"I can do it, Sir,"
Callum responded, a part of his mind trying to comprehend how things had come to such a pass that he was now pleading to be allowed to let a group of guys he didn't even know gang bang him.
"I'm sure I can. Just let me try, Sir. Please."
"No, Callum," Mr. Meyers replied, clearly unmoved. He saw Troy's face behind the naked model. His son's face showed open hero worship at this point, and Meyers had a hard time to stay focused and play the role he had written for himself. Callum still needed to be treated carefully to seal the deal, to make sure the success was his.
"I'm sorry. I can't send out a model who has no sexual experience bottoming for men – who's actually a virgin in that regard – on a personal entertainment assignment. It wouldn't be fair to you - and it wouldn't be fair to the men who've contracted for your services.”
Meyers' eyes feasted on the model's sweating body, but he continued without a pause and without giving away what he really had in mind:
“They expect a seasoned professional, not a neophyte who has literally no experience taking dick up his ass. I'm sorry, Callum, but I'll just have to tell Sam the truth and tell him you won't be able to fulfill the contract you signed."
Callum's mind was reeling. He appreciated Mr. Meyers' obvious concern for his physical welfare but the bottom line was that his modeling career was over if he didn't fulfill the contract. He did not even realize Meyers' manipulated him masterfully as he played the Devils advocate.
'How hard can it be to let some other guys stick their dicks up my ass? Fags do it all the time', he thought. ' I did it with Kerry and he liked it, even loved it, wanted it all the time'
Meyers and his son could basically read Callum's thoughts. To see the model think was an almost painful experience, but Callum had to think it through for himself and make his own decision, taking it at his own pace. Meyers wanted him to be sure that Callum himself had taken the decision, made his own choices. He wanted Callum to be sure that all his Agent did for him was necessary to assure the model's future career and success.
Callum processed what he knew so far: Sure he didn't have any experience getting fucked. However, he hadn't had any experience sucking dick either, but all it took was a couple of day's intensive training and he became a good enough cocksucker to impress Mr. Walensky.
Then it hit him – the solution to his problem and to the agency's problems, too.
"Sir," he began urgently. "My session with Mr. Walensky and his friends isn't until Sunday evening. That's two days away. Maybe... maybe you could.... help train me. You know, like you did with sucking cock..."
Mr. Meyers gave him a penetrating stare. Then, slowly, he inquired,
"Are you asking me to fuck you, Callum?"
"No, sir," Callum responded quickly without thinking and then backtracked.
"Well, actually, sir, I guess I am. I don't mean it in a sexual way, though... I mean I'm not asking you to fuck me because I think you'd want to fuck me.... it's that I think maybe you could train me how to get fucked. You know, the way you and the guys trained me how to suck cock..."
Callum voice just kind of trailed off in embarrassment, and he could feel his entire body burning in the same embarrassment. He knew he needed to get Mr. Meyers to train him, but he wasn't sure how to go about it without insulting the man. Not knowing what else to say, he just shut up.
Meyers could scarcely keep the look of triumph off his face. He could see Troy sitting on the sofa behind Callum grinning broadly as the totally oblivious model asked Meyers to fuck him. It had taken less than two months to maneuver a raging homophobe into begging to get butt-fucked and even the cunning Agent was surprised with how quickly Callum had reached this point.
Meyers now faced the delicious prospect of popping the boy's cherry – at his request, no less.
This was a deflowering he was really going to enjoy – and so would the thousands of subscribers when they saw it on the website.
He stood up from behind his desk. His suit jacket was already draped across the back of his chair.
Keeping his eyes locked into Callum's he slowly reached up and undid his tie, pulling it from around his neck when it was loose. Then he undid the first three buttons of his shirt before slowly moving around his desk and standing in front of the waiting boy.
"Are you sure, Callum?" he asked as he stood there just inches from the trembling young man.
"Yes, Sir," Callum answered with a noticeable tremor in his voice. "I'm sure. Fuck me."
Troy closed his eyes for a second, hearing those words. He knew a wave of word of mouth recommendation, an avalanche of buzz marketing would start in just a few seconds. The website might be overwhelmed by downloads, but Meyers had made sure to increase the capacity, and, nevertheless, the hidden cams would film each and every angle in high definition with sound, making sure the footage, cleverly edited, could be sold online, in a soft teaser free for everyone to see, and the very hardest hardcore to a select high paying audience.
"I am going to fuck you, Callum," John Meyers informed the boy, his hands returning to his shirt, slowly undoing the rest of the buttons. He still maintained an air of fatherly reluctance, clearly showing he was not thrilled about the prospect and not the least aroused by the unsavory task.
"You have to remember what I told you earlier. You can't just be passive while you're being fucked. You have to be an active participant. You have to be able to convince other guys that you're really enjoying getting fucked, that you want them to fuck you, that you want them to bang the shit out of your boy-twat."
Meyers undid his cuffs and shucked his shirt off his shoulders. He saw the boy glance down his now naked torso. Callum tried to hide an involuntary shudder as he saw his Agents muscular figure.
Ignoring that, Meyers brought his hands to Callum's strikingly handsome face and drew it forward. Deliberately, he smashed his lips against the boy's and then, after a moment's hesitation, forced his tongue into the boy's mouth.
He suppressed a smile as he felt the boy gasp in surprise but he kept their lips locked together as his tongue began to explore the inside of the teenager's mouth. He could feel Callum briefly fighting the assault before his mind took control of his body and he relaxed and let the older man's tongue continue its exploration.
Then, slowly, tentatively, Meyers felt Callum begin to kiss him back.
As he continued to kiss the boy, John Meyers lowered one of his hands from Callum's head and began to softly rub the boy's hard pectoral muscle. When his fingers came in contact with an erect nipple the hand movement stopped.
Waiting only a moment, he compressed his fingers together and squeezed down hard on the pointed nub. Callum's heavy groan was captured by Meyers' mouth as his tongue continued to dart back and forth, flicking the boy's gums and teeth. The experienced man continued to kiss the boy and pinched his flaring nipple for maybe another minute, feeling the boy beginning to writhe against him before he broke off and stood back. Callum's eyes were shut tight. He had a hard time to understand that the man he admired the most, his own straight-as-an-arrow Agent, had french kissed him.
"Look at me, boy," Meyers roughly ordered.
The boy's eyes popped open at once. Meyers took a step back and then eased out of his loafers. Callum had not broken position during the long kiss, so Meyers reached behind the boy's head and unlinked his fingers.
Slowly, Meyers moved both of Callum's hands down to the boy's waist, making sure Callum didn't break eye contact with him. The athlete look like he wanted to start a fist-fight, but Meyers knew the model had given in.
"Take off my pants, Callum," the Agent directed.
Flushing noticeably, Callum moved his fingers to the belt, unhooked the prong from the leather and let the now loose ends hang down from the belt loops. Next, he unlatched the man's slacks and loosened the zipper.
"Go ahead," The Agent urged, "take them off, completely!"
Callum crouched down and lowered Meyers pants to his ankles. Keeping his eyes fixed on the boy's face, the man slowly stepped out of first one and then the other pants' legs. He used a foot to flick the pants aside.
"Now the boxers," he ordered.
Swallowing hard, Callum raised his hands and grabbed the boxers along the sides and then eased them down the man's legs. John Meyers' hard cock popped straight to attention, just inches from Callum's face.
"Now get on your knees, Callum,"
Meyers continued, "and show me how much you've learned about how you should suck a man's cock."
Without a word, Callum dropped down to his knees and leaned forward, taking the already slick head of his Boss' cock into his mouth. There was only a moment's hesitation before he began sucking on the tube of hard man-flesh as he'd been taught over the past few days. Mr. Meyers watched Troy jerk his dick behind Callum's back, his Son almost unable to restrain himself now.
Both father and Son saw that Callum had learned his cock sucking lessons well. Except for a couple of momentary lapses when Callum let his eye's stray from Meyers' face – both of which earned him a hard slap across his cheek – there was little to criticize in the boy's technique. He was even able to deep-throat Meyers' thick fuck-stick with only minimal difficultly, a vast improvement over his sorry performance the first time he'd had a dick in his mouth.
The Agent kept up a running commentary on Callum's efforts, praising the boy when he swallowed all of Meyers' dick down his throat, complimenting him for the way he was keeping his teeth off the rigid, leaking pole, advising him to use as much saliva as he could.
"Remember, boy," Meyers warned him, "this dick is going straight from your mouth up your tight, virgin boy-hole. You're going to want it as lubed up as possible."
Callum gurgled his agreement as he worked his mouth up and down the throbbing cock.
Meyers let the boy continue sucking on his dick for maybe five minutes. He had to admit Callum was good. Not so good, however, that he wanted to forego busting the boy's cherry just for the chance to drop a load of his baby-makers down the model's grasping throat. Meyers knew he'd have plenty of opportunities to feed the sexy jock his man-cum in the future, but breaking a boy in to anal sex, snatching his virginity from him was something special.
That could only happen once in any boy's lifetime.
And today was the day Callum was going to lose his anal virginity, the day he would kiss his cherry goodbye forever.
Meyers was going to be the one to do it to him. The first man to do him like a fuck-boy should be done – hard, rough and raw. He was dying to do just that.
He yanked his dick out of Callum's mouth.
"Stand up, boy," he commanded in his most domineering voice. "It's time for you to get fucked."
Even though Callum had reconciled himself to getting fucked, a tidal wave of fear washed over him as he slowly regained his feet. His entire body was quivering with tension as Meyers turned him around so that he was now facing the door – facing Troy, in fact.
Callum had a brief glimpse of the assistant's face, alight with undisguised glee as he waited for the model to get his ass fucked, before Callum quickly looked away. It was bad enough getting his ass screwed, but knowing that that fucking fruitcake would be enjoying the whole sordid spectacle made the entire prospect even more humiliating, if that were possible.
He had clearly seen Troy was jerking his fat dick unabashedly, as if he was just waiting to be the next in line of a trainfuck of the models straight and surely tight ass.
Callum felt a strong pressure on his back, as Meyers forced him to bend over the desk. Then he heard the man order him to "reach back and spread your cheeks, boy, so I can see your tight little pussy."
Callum realized that Mr. Meyers was just trying to prepare him for what he faced on Sunday night, but he couldn't help but cringe at the derogatory terms his Agent was using to describe Callum's body.
Hearing his asshole described as a 'pussy' and a 'boy-twat' was incredibly emasculating. It made Callum feel like he was no man, not a real man, anyway. He was just a bitch to be used by real men. Callum tried to tell himself that it was just an act – that he was just playing a role. When he suddenly felt Mr. Meyers' hard dick pressing against his puckered rosette though, it sure didn't feel like an act. It felt like the real thing.
He still trusted his Agent, he still thought the straight man was making a real sacrifice to make sure his model would succeed, and Callum almost started to sob realizing what the man offered up in an altruistic moment of pure commitment to his job, his profession, his models.
Callum's world changed as Meyers had his dick wedged tightly against his virgin butt-hole where he paused to savor the moment. All his efforts with Callum had led to this. While Callum thought the man hesitated to do the most unspeakable act to his model, forced by Callum's own mistakes, trying to save face and the future of the Agency, Meyers had other reasons to stop.
He'd been at this point many times before, the point where a boy lost his virginity forever – the point where a masculine stud became another man's bitch for the first time. As always, he felt an indescribably exhilarating rush. He needed to take a deep breath as he triumphantly looked over to his son.
Meyers looked down at Callum's still unconquered hole. 'Now you're a virgin,' he said to himself. Then, with a vicious thrust forward which was answered by an agonized shriek from Callum, he busted the boy's cherry. 'And now you're not,'
Meyers chuckled, as Callum thrashed and bucked underneath him, penetrated – for the first, but definitely not the last time – by another man's cock.
The man took a deep, satisfied breath and then relentlessly drilled his hardon into Callum's hole all the way to its hairy root. Callum howled in pain as his back-channel struggled to accommodate the massive intruder. Meyers was not the careful, understanding Boss, he had transformed into a monster, but Callum knew the man's pent up emotion's just broke the damn of his professionalism.
Nevertheless, Callum had never felt such pain before and despite all his determination to go through with this, to let himself be fucked, he couldn't help himself.
"Oh, God, Sir," he pleaded. "Take it out. Take it out. It hurts too much. It really hurts, sir. Please. It's too big, sir. Oh, please, sir. Take it out."
Given all the experience Meyers had in raping a virgin boy's cherry ass, he'd heard those pleas many times before and they didn't dissuade him in the least. If anything, they acted like an aphrodisiac, making him just hotter, getting his juices really flowing. Hearing Callum beg him to stop just acted like a spur to the man. He slowly pulled his hard cock two-thirds of the way out and then rammed it back in with real force.
Callum howled again.
"Relax," the man told the boy as Callum continued to struggle in agony. "Just relax, boy. You'll get used to it soon. Just try to relax. Soon you will be nothing but a willing fucktoy!”
Callum heard the man's soothing tone and tried to do what he was told, while he overheard what Meyers actually had said. He did not hear ' a willing fucktoy ' while the searing pain in his butt felt as if someone was running a red hot branding iron back and forth in his rectum. It hurt soo fucking much. Soo fucking much.
Then the realization what his Agent, fucking him hard, had just said hit him like a ton of bricks. As usual he was slow, but now he knew his fate.
'A willing fucktoy ', nothing more. Despite himself, Callum began to cry.
Hearing the first strangled sob, Meyers realized the boy was crying.
This was something he knew his subscribers loved seeing. He looked up just in time to see his own son cum hard, shooting his first load all over his abs, pecs, even face.
Meyers jammed his dick up the steaming stretched-out hole as far as could and then, grabbing Callum firmly around the chest, forced the boy back into a standing position.
Meyers knew that they were directly positioned under the camera set in the ceiling of his office and that his viewers would have a clear view of the boy's tear-stained face as his teenage fuck-hole was ravaged for the first time.
His subscribers were going to get their money's worth with this video.
If anything, being forced back to an erect position increased the pain Callum was feeling. Indeed, the physical trauma was so great that Callum didn't even hear Troy laughing out loud as Meyers began pummeling Callum's stretched-out hole with abandon, throwing everything he had into fucking the shit out of the boy.
The sound of Meyers' hips smashing into Callum's muscled buns became a tattoo interspersed by the boy's frequent squeals whenever the hard fucking man landed a particularly vicious thrust up his guts.
As he continued to assault the boy's slowly loosening ass, John Meyers brought his hands around to Callum's chest and began working on the teenager's tender nipples, squeezing harder and harder as his rape of the boy's butt continued unabated.
The boy's tits soon would trigger his muscles to tighten, and so his ass would be an even hotter tool to work the man's fat, almost aching dick.
Eventually, as the boy's tits became tenderized, the pain emanating from his chest achieved a sufficient pitch to break into his consciousness. Suddenly, Callum had to deal not only with the undiminished torment his ass was undergoing, but also with the sharp, piercing pain that now was shooting through his body from his abused nipples.
"Oh, please, sir," Callum begged, almost incoherent in his anguish and humiliation, "Please stop! Please!! Stop—you're too big!”
By this time, though, even if John Meyers had been of a mind to heed the boy's frantic entreaties, he was beyond stopping. The man was lost in the total ecstasy of sexual rut. He, however, still had enough presence of mind to know that he was getting close to orgasm.
He had one final humiliation to make Callum's deflowering complete. He lowered his hand to Callum's groin, intending to jerk him off, to make the model shoot a load of boy-juice at the same time he completed the violation of Callum's boycunt with a load of hot, slimy man-seed.
To his shock he came in contact with Callum's chastity device.
Callum was still wearing the plastic cock-restrainer that had imprisoned the boy's dick for weeks, since Meyers in the excitement of the moment of fucking the boy simply had forgotten to remove it.
Given the state of his arousal, his bone being heated and massaged by the teenager's battered hole, Meyers knew there was no way that he'd be able to get the device off Callum before he shot his load. His plan to have Callum shoot his own load at the precise moment that he was unloading up Callum's aching shitter was going to have to be abandoned.
'Oh, well,' Meyers told himself. 'I'll just have to wait till later this evening to make Callum shoot while I'm creaming his hole. It'll give me something else to look forward to.' With that consoling thought, he returned to the urgent task at hand – shooting his hot load up Callum's tight butt.
As he pounded away at Callum's boy pussy with increasing force, he realized that it might be even hotter to keep the boy in chastity while he was being fucked. After all, what could be more demeaning, more humiliating, than forcing a boy to serve as a cum receptacle for other men while he, himself, was actually being prevented from achieving an erection, much less an orgasm.
Meyers made up his mind: Such a boy could have no illusions that he more than a pair of holes for other men to use, a toy for real men to take their pleasure from and then discard, his own pleasure such a matter of complete irrelevance that he was not even provided with the opportunity to achieve release regardless of the uses to which his own body were being put.
How humiliating that would be. How degraded any boy kept that way would feel. Keeping Callum in permanent chastity was certainly something to consider.
The vain and arrogant boy needed the extra training, Meyers decided.
As intriguing as this possibility was, however, further consideration was soon shunted aside as he felt his balls rising in their sac.
He yanked his tool completely out of Callum's hole and then rammed it back in to the hilt.
Callum screamed in pain. Meyers did it again and Callum screamed again, tightening his ass in utter panic, so as Meyers tried to do the move the third time, Callum's answering scream was overshadowed by his Agent's own ecstatic grunts and groans as his cock exploded with cum inside the furnace of the boy's ass.
It took several minutes for Meyers to force all his boiling sperm inside Callum's now thoroughly ravished hole and at least a couple more minutes for the pounding of his heart to diminish inside of his chest.
Eventually, even though his cock was still buried deep inside the vise-like fuck-hole, John Meyers could feel it beginning to lose its aching hardness. He leaned back so he could watch as he slowly pulled his dick from Callum's battered hole. As the crown popped out, he was gratified to see it followed by a spurt of creamy man-cream. Callum had been well and truly bred.
Only now Mr. Meyers regained his senses enough to see that his son, Troy, stood on the other side of his fathers desk and pumped his dick in and out of Callum's mouth, deepfucking the models throat.
Once Meyers dick had finally vacated Callum's ass and he let go of the model's hips, the boy just slumped over the desk. He laid there, huddled in upon himself, sobbing softly, trying to take in the enormity of what had just happened, while he gagged and choked on Troy's dick.
Meyers looked over to Troy who had watched the whole thing before he got up and stepped in.
His son was grinning like a Cheshire cat. The tablet in his hand showed he had checked the cameras and was satisfied with the results. He flashed his Dad a 'thumbs-up,' which Meyers acknowledged with a quick nod of his head.
Meyers looked back down at the crumpled form of Callum, still bent over the desk. In the position he was in, the boy's freshly-ravaged asshole was hidden from view, but his muscled buttocks still bore the marks of the many slaps Meyers had delivered during his violent assault – slaps he hadn't even been aware of at the time.
Just instinct, he guessed. If you're fucking a hot male pussy, you naturally keep slapping it, too. That was just embedded in the male genome – at least it was in his.
Anyway, just looking at the rosy glow still suffusing Callum's abused ass-cheeks was enough to start to re-harden Meyers' dick. And when a loud, raspberry fart broke the silence of the room, an obvious sign that some of Meyers' cum-deposit was beginning to leak out, it needed all of the man's restraint to keep himself from re-mounting the hot boy and giving his twat another good reaming-out.
He kept himself under control.
The boy had already taken to the bit and been duly broken – now it was time to train him properly, prepare him for his future as an A-number-one cuntboy. And Meyers was just the man to do it.
Below him, Callum was finally beginning to gag louder since troy grunted and deposited his load inside the model's mouth. After Troy pulled out and Callum had a chance to breath deep, he slowly raised first his head and then his torso from the desk. Taking a few moments to gather himself, he then staggered to his feet. He turned around to face the man who had just taken his cherry. And when he did, the face that greeted him was distinctly unhappy.
"That wasn't just bad, Callum," Mr. Meyers informed him, without loosing his concentration. He knew he needed to stay in his role, he knew he needed to project his stance as the straight man in control, the straight man that just had done something disgusting to serve the model's needs.
With a face that radiated disgust, he went on:
"That was piss-poor. I told you that you had to be able to convince Sam and his guests that you enjoy getting fucked, that you want them to fuck you. The way you cried and carried on, one would have thought someone was stretching you out on a torture-rack."
Meyers knew how to play with the audience online as well as toy with the poor boy's brain. The mere mentioning of a torture-rack would spur his perverted viewers on to ask for even more hardcore footage in the future, and the way he toyed with Callum would cement his brainwashing.
"But, sir," Callum tried to explain in a very ragged voice, "it hurt so much!”
The boy sobbed: “I don't think I've ever felt such pain before in my entire life. I mean, I broke my wrist playing basketball once and I thought that really hurt but that was nothing compared to how it felt when you....when you fucked me, Sir."
Mr. John Meyers shook his head with obvious disappointment.
"Well, maybe we should just call it quits right now, Callum. I appreciate your willingness, but maybe we should face the reality that you're just not up to it. You're just not capable of pulling it off."
Even though it seemed like every part of his body was aching and his abraded asshole felt as if it had been used as a punching bag, Callum was still upset when he heard Mr. Meyers' comments.
It looked like he had not been fucked by this Agents dick up the ass, or been facefucked by the assistants cock down his throat. He seemed oblivious of it. All he knew was: If he gave up now, it would be the end of his modeling career. It would mean that all the sacrifices he'd already made – essentially dropping out of college, learning how to suck cock, letting himself get fucked up the ass – were all for nothing.
Callum lowered his head and tried to compose enough to make up his mind. He really didn't even want to think of being fucked again but he also knew that if he didn't say anything, if he just went along with Mr. Meyers' decision, he was almost certainly consigning himself to a lifetime of dead-end jobs. He would end up being the 'loser' his father always said he was. That was one thing he simply couldn't accept, at least not without a fight.
There was a thrilling silence in the room. Mr. Meyers gave his son a sign to be quiet, by simply looking at him. Both had trained so many boy-bitches that they knew what to do. They waited for the break... or the victory.
"Mr. Meyers, please," Callum pleaded, facing his Agent after what seemed an eternity. "I know it was really bad. I know I carried on like a little bitch but it really did hurt. It hurt so much more than I thought it would. I just wasn't prepared for that. Give me another chance. Please. I'll do better next time. I promise you."
Meyers looked at him, the doubt obvious in his face. He was a master in this game, and Callum just a beginner, nothing but the unsuspecting prey for the seasoned predator.
"I really don't think that one or two more times could really lead to that much improvement. Judging by your first attempt, it's going to take a lot of work, a lot of effort on your part before you could even approximate a response that would convince other gay guys that you enjoyed getting fucked. And we really don't have that much time."
"Sir," Callum reiterated. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes. I'll do whatever you tell me to do. Just give me the chance, Sir. Please."
Meyers gave him a long, appraising look. He loved the way the boy submitted, how often he used the word 'Sir' in his pleadings.
After a long pause, during which Callum nervously stood there, thinking his whole future was on the trial, Meyers allowed himself to smile.
"Okay, Callum. I'm going to give you the chance to prove yourself. I want to warn you though, it isn't going to be easy."
"Sir," Callum replied, immensely relieved, "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get myself ready for Sunday night. I promise you, sir. You won't be disappointed."
"I don't expect that I will," Mr. Meyers agreed with another toothy smile.
"Now listen to me, Callum," the man continued. "I want you to get dressed, go home, grab a shower and giving yourself a good douching."
"Douching, sir?" Callum queried.
“An enema, Callum." Mr. Meyers explained.
"Now that you're going to be passing yourself off as a gay bottom, you need to keep yourself clean back there. Gay guys expect their partners to attend to those type of things. I realize that it isn't like you're going to be bending over for every guy you see but, given the nature of this business, you want to be prepared to do what's necessary on short notice. So you should probably plan on douching yourself every morning, just to be on the safe side."
He paused for a second and looked at Troy in a way Callum noticed. The model picked up the hint, Troy might be ready to answer more questions in the future.
Meyers continued:
"Now I would recommend that you get yourself an enema shower system which you can just attach to your shower head. That way, after you've finished showering all you have to do is switch the water flow to the enema device, stick the other end up you pussy, and give yourself a good douching.”
He gave Callum a second to understand. “It's a lot cheaper and a lot easier than using individual enemas all of the time. But for today, I'd suggest you just stop at a drugstore and pick up half a dozen Fleet enemas. You'll want to give yourself a couple of enemas right away, since you haven't been douching before and you are a little dirty back there."
Callum did not even realize that his supposedly 'straight' Agent knew all that. He simply thought a man like him knew such things.
With that, Mr. Meyers looked down at his cock. When Callum followed his gaze he was surprised to note that the older man was fully erect again, despite the fact that he'd shot a huge load of his man-seed into Callum's hole not ten minutes before.
Callum noticed the dark smudge on the head of the man's dick and he realized, to his incredible mortification, that he was looking at a smear of his own ass, fresh from his back-hole.
Wincing with embarrassment, Callum looked up at Mr. Meyers.
“Oh God, I'm sorry, Sir," he apologized. "I'll make sure I'm clean in the future. I'll give myself a real good douching when I get home. I promise, Sir."
"I'm sure you will," Mr. Meyers agreed amiably. He did not point out that many men would force Callum to clean their dicks with his mouth, after the fucking.
"Once you've showered and cleaned yourself out," the man continued,
"I want you to try to get a couple hours rest. It's already been an eventful day for you and you're not going to have a particularly restful night, either. I'll be sending Troy over around 6:00 pm to bring you back to my house. Make sure to bring along your toothbrush and other grooming items and also the clothes you're planning on wearing to Sam's on Sunday night. You'll be spending tonight and Saturday at my place and you'll be leaving for Sam's straight from there."
"Really, sir?" Callum asked in surprise.
"Oh, thank you so much, sir," he continued without waiting for an affirmation. Callum couldn't believe that Mr. Meyers was not only willing to sacrifice his entire weekend to help Callum out, but he was willing to let Callum stay at his place to make things even easier. For the thousandth time Callum thought about how lucky he was to have Mr. Meyers as his agent.
The man favored the boy with a warm smile. "Why don't you get dressed and go home, Callum. You have a long night ahead of you."
"Yes, sir. Thank you again, sir," Callum replied with sincerity.
He turned to walk over to where he'd piled his clothes on the floor. As he bent down to step into his trousers, however, another fart ripped through his ass, followed by a large outflow of Meyers' seed. Even though Callum had his back to him, John Meyers could see the boy blushing furiously.
He needed all his concentration to keep from laughing out loud.
Suppressing his laugh, Meyers just stood there watching as Callum put on his slacks, struggled into his tight Polo shirt and then stepped into his loafers.
Meyers was amused to note that an obvious cum-stain was already forming along the back-seam of Callum's trousers, the standard calling card for a cuntboy who'd been recently fucked. Anyone seeing Callum walk by on the street would know just what the boy was good for.
Meyers turned to his son who was again sitting on the couch, his own slacks tented out by his still obvious boner.
"Troy, would you go get a couple of bottles of energy supplement for Callum. We want to make sure he stays hydrated today."
"Yes, Sir," Troy immediately responded, not bothering to hide his huge grin. He headed out of the office.
"C'mon, Cal," he said to the model as he walked past him, "I'll get you set up before we go."
Callum wasn't surprised by the assistant's obvious good humor. The faggot had surely really enjoyed watching Callum getting fucked, and even more pumping his own load down Callum's throat.
'So what,' Callum told himself. 'Let the little pervert get his jollies. What do I care? I'm on my way to making something of myself, making a real career in this business. We'll just see who gets the last laugh.'
Then, saying one last goodbye to Mr. Meyers, Callum headed out.
Even though his ass still hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, he felt like he was walking on air. Today he had faced the biggest crisis he'd ever had to deal with, one that threatened all that he had worked to accomplish. He had risen to the challenge! He hadn't let himself be dissuaded by what other people might think about what he was doing.
Instead, he had kept focused on the ultimate prize and persevered. Despite the pain, despite the humiliation he had felt, he'd hung in there. He'd come through – banged up, to be sure, but in one piece nonetheless. He knew the road ahead was going to difficult. There was obviously going to be a lot of pain and a lot more humiliation but he no longer doubted that in the end he was going to make it.
His mind was set:
He was going to become the most successful model JM Modeling Agency had ever had.
Unbeknownst to Callum, John Meyers was thinking the same thing, sitting in his chair after he had taken a quick, refreshing shower in his private bathroom, checking the polls and comments of the live show that had just taken place. Callum's set-up had been masterfully planned and had been advertised, and thousands of his admirers had followed his first fuck online.
'That fucking kid is going to be the biggest money-maker yet,' he thought to himself. 'They're going to be lined up just for the chance to fuck his well-muscled straight butt. We're going to make a mint off of that boy's pussy.'
He looked up to see Troy coming back into the office after his son sent Callum home.
"That was fucking hot as shit, Dad," his Son exclaimed. "You really fucked the crap out of him. And I loved that you fucked him over your desk. I already checked some of the tape and you get a fantastic view of Callum's body as you're pounding away at his hole. And his being in a chastity cage makes it even hotter. They're going to love it on the site – seeing an arrogant, hot, straight stud surrendering his cherry and not being able to enjoy any of it. “
Troy did not mention that he had facefucked the model, that he had violated his Dad's strict order to stay on the couch, watch impassively. Meyers evidently didn't mind, and so Troy went on:
“I know how much you enjoy making straight dudes cum while you're fucking them, but, you know, I think it was even hotter seeing you fuck Callum and knowing that the poor guy couldn't get off even if he wanted to. I just waited for him to cum without touching his dick, that would have been the last nail to his coffin!”
"You know, Troy," his Dad mused.
"I kind of think you're right. I just may keep that boy in permanent chastity. I think a lot of our subscribers might really think that was hot. And most of our customers would, too."
Meyers thought about that for a moment and then a wicked smile creased his face.
"I just had a great idea, Troy," he confided. "We'll market the sucker in his chastity cage but, if a client pays a surcharge, say two or three hundred dollars, we'll have Callum hand over the key to his chastity cage at the beginning of a session. Then, it'll be up to the customer to decide if and when the cage will be removed. The only restriction will be that Callum can only be allowed to cum when he has a dick up his pussy. That way, he'll eventually associate cumming with getting fucked."
Meyers paused for a second, his own dick hard again as he bathed in his sexual fantasies.
"The way I see it," he continued, "after two or three weeks of enforced chastity, all the time consuming our juiced-up 'energy supplement,' the little whore will be frantic to cum. I'm sure he'll go out of his way to service any customer who's paid the premium and literally holds the key in his hands that will determine whether or not Callum gets to shoot a load.”
Meyers grinned sardonically:
“Eventually, word will get around as to just how far Callum is willing to go to be allowed to get a nut and even guys who have no intention of removing the cage will end up paying the surcharge just to make sure they get the benefit of Callum's full performance."
Despite himself, Troy was impressed.
"Dad, you have a truly twisted mind," he remarked with admiration. "I think it's a super idea. "
"Why, thank you, Troy," John Meyers responded. "Coming from you, that's quite the compliment."
A few minutes later, Meyers was heading out the door. He wanted to get home and get things properly set up for his weekend visitor. He also hoped to get a little nap in himself. He figured it was going to be a really exhausting night and he wanted to be well-rested at the start. His record was five orgasms in one session but he had a feeling that was going to outdo himself tonight.
'Just how much cum can Callum's pussy hold?' he wondered. He figured to have the answer to that question before the night was over.