Flip Mecum Ch 05

Flip Mecum Ch 05

Two more flics; Marty declares, Michael plans

This is an original, fictional story. None of the persons or places is real--even if their names seem familiar. Everyone engaged in sexual activity is over 18. © 2024. Brunosden All rights reserved.

I woke early Monday morning. I had decided to call in and register for a day's work at the Katy jobsite, and I needed to report, even if tearing myself away from the warm boy sleeping in my arms was very hard. I was actually more than hard; it was like tearing off a limb from my body. I dressed silently and left, surprised that the door was slightly ajar, but closed the door tightly behind me to allow Michael all the beauty sleep he didn't need. It was a tough hot day. The jobsite problems were unusual and demanded all of my attention. I realized during the day that I was being called to many of the most difficult issues on the jobsite. I guess I was becoming a real electrician. But I couldn't help the occasional flashes of joy (and resulting stiffness in my jeans) when I pictured him on my pillow or felt the pleasure we had enjoyed last night.

During my brief lunch, I texted Michael to check in, but he didn't answer. Then I checked in with Marty to learn that I was scheduled to film on Tuesday so I didn't register to return to the job site Tuesday. It was pretty clear the foreman was disappointed that I wasn't there every day. He was beginning to depend on me. That was a first for me: the first time someone counted on me to be somewhere or do something.

Traffic returning to Montrose was unusually light so I got to the apartment a little after six, ready for a much needed shower. All day I had been wondering whether the other guys could smell Michael's musk and cum on me. I knew I could, but I was alert to it, and of course it didn't bother me a bit. No one on the site had guessed I was gay, so they'd teased me about my great weekend. I presume they thought I had had a good weekend with a woman--and the musk and smell were my own. Certainly my curly greasy hair was evidence that I hadn't showered.

Even before I reached the shower, Billy stopped me. He couldn't wait to disclose the pictures of me and Michael in bed in what he knew was a transgression of the rules. I blew him off. "So, are you a voyeur now? Can't you find your own guy? He has a cardkey to the building, including our floor. So what's the big deal?"

"You know exactly the big deal. Nobody but the three of us is permitted in this apartment. Cardkey or not. Marty will flip if I show him this."

"Fuck you, Billy. Why would you do that? What's in it for you?"

"Fuckin' brave words from the golden boy. If Marty discovers you're givin' it away for free, he'll have a shitfit."

I ignored him and walked into the bath and turned on the shower. That seemed to really enrage him.

He followed. So I turned, "What is it with you? Do you need me to fuck you again? If that's what you want, let's do it right now. Bend the fuck over the vanity and spread-em. I don't want to have to shower a second time tonight."

"That's not what I want, although I wouldn't mind. I want things to change around here. I want more money. I want a chance to shoot a film. And I want this damned collar off."

"Well, why are you telling me that? You need to talk to Marty."

"We both know you're his favorite. We'll get more if you're a spokesman for all of us. But, if you refuse, I'll transfer these pictures to my Marty-cell which I know he monitors. I won't be tattling; it'll be Marty snooping which we all know he does. Let's see what happens when he discovers his boy is having some extra-curricular activities."

"I'm pretty sure he already suspects. The closed-circuit cameras will certainly show him that Michael is in the building far more often and for much longer than the filming requires. He knows Michael's keycard gives him access to the whole building. Something he said the other day suggests to me that he knows. I don't think he knows what to do. I don't have a contract, and I could walk tomorrow. And he knows it. I'm the golden goose right now. Haven't you heard? My flics are red hot. I've been waiting to see how he reacts. So do your worst, Billy. I hope it gets you what you want. But, I have a feeling it might get you fired. Now get out of my shower and out of my face."

Billy seemed deflated. "Aren't you going to fuck me?"

"Not on your life. I'm a paid whore. I don't give or get freebies unless I like the guy. You know that."

Billy turned, clearly angry and stomped off. He was capable of anything at that point.

I hoped I had defused the situation, but I knew Billy was anxious to change things, and now I knew he thought he needed me to make that happen. With my new relationship with Michael, I had been going to try to stay under the radar for at least the next few weeks. Michael had said he needed a few more weeks of filming to pay off his drug debt and to save a bit for the next chapter in his life--which I hoped included me.

Then I realized that Michael had not responded to my txt of earlier in the day. I began to worry a bit and tried calling, but he didn't answer. It went immediately to voice mail. After the shower, I headed for bed, but found it difficult to sleep without Michael beside me--or at least some response from him. Did I already have it that bad?

Marty's warnings about Michael, and Michael's confession over lunch that he had been a drug user, that he still smoked and that he was in some kind of financial trouble didn't make me any more comfortable. Maybe he was in trouble. Maybe he had already skipped. Maybe last night was a farewell. I realized that I had met Michael briefly several months ago, and we had spoken almost not at all. Then we had made a few films together--hardly the best time to judge the character of the others in the story. And as of now, we had spent about a dozen hours together over two weekends. The sex was great. And he made me feel great. But, did I really have enough to make a decision that would change my life? If Marty had said anything, where would I be now? Did I know myself well enough to make a serious long term risky commitment at this point in my life?

On the other hand, I wasn't really happy at Peacock. I was getting richer by the week. But not happier. I wanted Michael, real bad.

Finally, I fell into a very troubled sleep.

********

Today was going to be a filming day. I was to report at 9 for makeup and costume. When I arrived, I learned I was making two films, one each in the morning and afternoon. Michael was not in evidence. And he still had not responded to my txts and voice mails. So I began to worry.

The two "scenes" could not have been more different--except that Marty had concluded that I was the youngest, most innocent looking guy in his stable. He wanted to milk the young innocence for everything it was worth as quickly as possible. And for some reason, he was really promoting me. I had a godfather. Both films were essentially seductions of a newbie. He told me that newbie status lasted for about a half dozen films or two or three months, whichever came first.

The first film was set in a high school detention room. Only two of us had been rewarded with detention that day. And so there were only three characters: a slightly older but photogenic, handsome football type (of course a giant of muscled flesh, very light skinned, with black shaggy hair, some facial scrub and I learned later, horse-hung), a very bored older teacher who was obviously neglecting the duties of a detention monitor, a job that he considered below his dignity and outside his employment contract and me.

They had dressed me in chinos and a polo--both very tight. My hair had been slicked down with gel, and I had a part! I also wore dark rimmed glasses--the classic nerd. All I needed was a slide rule in my pocket. But, no, we use compters now. The football player (Simon) was dressed identically--although I was trim and carefully groomed while he was almost careless and sloppy. Polos and chinos were not made for rugged, developed athletes. His pecs exploded the fabric of the chino and his thick thighs threatedned the stitching on the chinos. The space behind the zipper bulged almost into softball size. Interestingly, Marty had approached and removed my collar just before we started rolling. I guessed it was out of character for the guy I was playing.

The action was predictable. The teacher left for a smoke. And immediately upon his departure, Simon moved to the desk next to mine and began to discuss sex--mostly his conquests of classmates, mostly cheerleaders, female and male. He stopped suddenly when he noticed that I was listening raptly and chubbing over his stories, presumably something he intended with the monologue. And his demeanor changed instantly.

He reached over, pulled off my glasses and grabbed my stuff through the chinos. "Aha. Hard, just as I thought." Then he and hypnotized me with his glare (according to the script). Next, in a move that was practically unbelievable, he lifted me bodily from the desk chair, and I fell into his embrace, apparently falling for him. I went in for a kiss (per the script), but he refused and turned his head away; he flipped me around on the desk top as he stripped my chinos to my ankles. His fingers move to my ass, rubbing my cleft--again only seconds later. He spit for lube and delved in. "I can tell you like that, slut. But you gotta ask me for it. I don't rape." I grunted which he took for permission. He pulled my cheeks apart and lube-spit again into my hole. His huge cut cock emerged from behind his zipper. I got my first real look at it and I cringed, as if to say, "I can't take that monster." Next he's on top of me, penetrating (already completely wrapped and lubed--although the camera carefully tried to suggest he's going in bareback). I protested, but my protests turn to smiles and groans of pleasure as he pounded and reached around and squeezed my nipples. A few seconds later he pulled out, threw the sheath aside and came on my ass, half dozen creamy spurts. As I coated the desk top with my stuff. I've lost my virginity to a football stud that I couldn't resist because of the size of his dick! My smile back at him certainly suggested he could have another shot at my ass any time. In about sixty seconds I was gay and his slave.

The monitor returned and we are both sitting beatifically in our too-small desk chairs. The camera panned away, but not before catching his big hand planted firmly inside my belt with his fingers fanned out over my ass. I guess we weren't going to our homes after detention.

Total garbage. Almost unbelievable. Entirely exploitive. Oh, I forgot to mention: Before he penetrated, he magically had lost all his clothes, and the camera scanned over his muscled body and enormous erect dick planted in a full bush of black pubes. The giant muscled experienced dick was going to take the younger student for the first time--and awake his gayness. Somehow I had lost my shirt as well--and some pre-filming stimulation has caused my nipples to erect into a wide dark aureoles.

The entire film took a little over an hour to set up and do four takes. Fortunately, only one take of the penetration and my ejaculation. He was big, but considerate, and certainly not the biggest I've taken. I faked most of it, but the camera didn't register that. Simon thanked me and left.

I thought it was a disaster. But, the crew loved it. And Marty, looking on from the side, agreed. He pronounced quickly, "Flip, you've got another winner. I sort of like the nerdy glasses. You might want to consider them for one of your dances at the club. Oh. We're having lunch in my office. I'll see you in ten after you clean up." He came up to me and reattached the collar. I felt like a horse that had been let out to pasture to perform and was now being led back into the barn for safe-keeping.

I noticed, as was typical, that he had ordered, not asked. Michael's (and maybe Billy's) words were beginning to sensitize me to my situation at Peacock. Not only had I become a porn film critic. I had now begun to recognize the ever-present characteristics of ownership and domination with which I was living every day.

******

I appeared at Marty's open door as he had demanded. He motioned me in, and a few seconds later, ended his call. There was a paper bag of takeout on the desk. He motioned me to arrange the lunch--for both of us of course.

As we ate, he opened the conversation. "A few months ago, I asked if you were happy here. I'm asking again. I want all my boys to be happy."

I tried to duck the question. "I'm pleased to be dancing again. And I'm getting into the film-making. I'm pleased you haven't sold me to another dom exclusively. And of course I love the money."

But, he wasn't going to let it go. "That's not really an answer, Flip."

I decided to play dumb. "I think it is, Marty. It's been almost a year now since I arrived in Houston. I was really glad to get out of Hanover and my Pop's abuse. This is okay for me now--although I do feel a bit trapped. In Hanover, I was my own guy. I pretty much did what I wanted when I wanted. I understand that being free to do what you want--and being able to afford doing what you want--are very different things. I like what I'm doing. I really do. But, I wish I had a bit more freedom--maybe even an apartment away from Peacock so that I don't feel my entire life is Peacock or connecting electrical wires. I know I've got to be here on the nights I dance, but I'm going to look for an apartment for the rest of my time. I think some of the other guys have the same feelings."

"I hear you. Lots of my boys express them. But, I don't think you understand the dangers of a gay performer/escort living alone in this city. I like to protect my boys." Then he changed the subject abruptly, apparently rejecting my request for freedom. He probably knew it was legitimate, but his business plans didn't allow for it.

"I know you and Michael have been fucking. I told you he's bad news. Drugs. Lies. Bad attitude. He's not good for you, Flip. You deserve something better, much better. But, I don't think he's going to be around much longer. His contract is up in less than a month, and I'm not planning to renew it. I'll make sure there is no place in Houston for him after that. Be careful, Flip. Remember who your Daddy is. And who is watching out for you."

I was a little surprised when he stood and remarked, "Afternoon filming begins in a few minutes. (I had thought he'd demand at least a blow job for buying lunch.) You need to go to wardrobe and makeup. I want you in my bed tonight. He then looked down to his papers. I had thought maybe he was going to forbid me from seeing Michael, or that he was going to punish me in some other way. Then, I realized, he had a soft spot for me. Maybe he had plans for me as his in the future. It was not something I wanted, but maybe I could use it.

******

By early afternoon when I finished in wardrobe/make-up, I still had not heard from Michael and was beginning to be worried. I knew now that Marty knew of our activities, and I suspected that Mary now considered Michael an impediment and a danger to his "courtship" of me.

The afternoon shoot was totally different from the morning.

We had a very talented director. He was obviously gay, sensitive and understanding. This was a "discovery" video: two young virgins, friends from nursery school, who come to realize they love each other--as they slowly discover each other's body and ultimately fuck each other.

The scene is shot in a one room cabin. The boys have just finished their junior year and have been given use of one of the family's cabin to celebrate their 18

th

birthday before starting summer jobs. They enter the cabin, having just gone for a swim in the nearby lake. They are in swim trunks, tees and flips. (Again my collar has been removed.) They are joking and jostling as they enter--lots of hands on bodies. Jake (my friend) trips on the rag rug as we enter, and I reach out to stop him from falling. We both end up on the floor, staring into each other's eyes. (Incredibly corny setup, isn't it?)

The lust is obvious, and the embrace lasts a few seconds longer than it should. Both boys rise, somewhat clumsily. Jake rather obviously reaches down to balance and instead touches my rigid erection. His eyes go up in question. But we part. Jake announces that he is getting out of his wet clothes and strips right in front of me. I follow, and the camera picks up the two obviously aroused young men, lusting for each other, but maybe afraid to declare our feelings--but the dicks tell all. We are both slim, have similar coloring, attractive faces--of boys, not men, and nearly identical uncut cocks, both of which are rigidly erect. I step up slowly and tentatively fist his dick. He grabs mine as he protests, "We shouldn't be doing this. We're guys, not gays."

"So guys aren't permitted to have fun with other guys? I love your hand on my dick. And yours feels so different, so hot, so alive. It's nothing like jerking. I've wanted this for years, Bo."

The action moves to the sofa. There is a lot of necking. This is definitely a romance flic. Then we find ourselves in a 69, which becomes more and more enthusiastic. Finally, I tell him I want him to fuck me. He pulls back, apparently in refusal. But, we are both so hormone-filled at that moment, something has got to give. I drape myself over the arm of the sofa--as the cameras pan in to catch my perfect butt. Jake is hypnotized and moves behind. He is tentative, massaging my butt, pushing his fingers into my cleavage, then rimming and finally pushing one inside. I gasp in pleasure and loft my ass toward him. "Yeah, Jake. Do it. I want it." He positions at the entrance and begins to push. (Then we have a pause in the filming as he wraps, lubes and tries to hide the wrap with his fist. When we resume--.) He holds his dick firmly against the hole (nicely covering most of the condom) and begins to penetrate. I grimace, but it turns quickly to a smile. He hits my prostate and I moan and begin to color. (He may be a novice in the film, but he IS a professional actor and knows how to get a reaction from a partner). He continues as I urge him deeper. He's actually pretty good, and I begin to enjoy the scene. I stiffen and vee my legs widely and push back my ass, pulling him deeper. He falls onto my back and reaches under to cup my balls and stroke my shaft. He whispers that he's loved me forever. That I feel so good. Etc Etc.

The "first time" sequence is stretched for some time (both of us have been given pills and the lube is anesthetized). It is shot from multiple angles, and later the shots will be combined seemingly to extend the encounter. Finally, we are ready. The cameras are signaled. Jake pulls out, removes the condom, and the cameras start again, suggesting he has just pulled out and is fisting his cock as it spews over my ass and back. They pan in on my dick as it covers the side of the sofa. We smile at each other and Jake takes me into his arms as our lips touch. Then there is a fade.

Jake had been good and considerate. I'd gladly work with him again. I thought it was a really good shoot. But, it seemed that Marty thought it was just okay. I wondered whether he was judging the quality of the film by how much I seemed to enjoy it. He seemed uncomfortable when I liked my porn flic partner. He was definitely moving into a Daddy-mode where only he was permitted to do me, unless of course I was getting paid and he was getting a cut. Any evidence that I was enjoying another boy or man was becoming an issue for him. At that point, I realized my time at Peacock was probably nearing the end.