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Message-ID: <34347asstr$1009667406@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: cyberczar@despammed.com
Subject: {ASSM} (RP) [3/12] Pact with The Devil (ASFR, MF, MM, cons, mc, nc, scifi)
Date: Sat, 29 Dec 2001 18:10:06 -0500
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                                   Chapter 3
                                  The Showing

   Jenna had successfully persuaded both he and Paul to show the paintings.
   Acting as Paul's agent, Jenna arranged a showing for that weekend at the
   Metropolitan Underground Art Gallery.

   Paul and Michael stayed busy for the weeks prior to the showing;
   each-other contributing their part to the vast array of artwork produced.

   Paul had acquired a new-found vigor in his paintings, choosing to paint
   Michael in a variety of styles and positions. All the paintings had one
   single theme however, they all pictured Michael as the central character;
   and they all pictured him nude.

   That Friday, a truck from the gallery came to pick up Paul's work. Paul
   supervised the workers loading the paintings onto the truck and he and
   Michael followed it to the location.

   Jenna was standing on the back loading dock smoking a cigarette with the
   gallery's owner, Patrick Haas.

   Michael followed Paul out of his car and walked over.

   ``This must be Michael,'' said Patrick, reaching out to shake Michael's
   hand. ``Come, come inside for a cappucino.''

   They all made their way inside to the main gallery where preparations were
   taking place for the next day's showing.

   They all sat at the bar with Patrick tending to the offerings as workers
   brought the 50 or so paintings inside.

   ``My Lord,'' Patrick said as he caught a glimpse of one of the nudes. He
   set down his coffee and walked over the painting leaning up against the
   wall. ``Exquisite,'' he exclaimed, holding it up to the light.

   The nude he was admiring so much was the one of Michael, standing like
   Michaelangelo's David, fully erect.

   ``Come,'' he said, clapping his hands together after setting the painting
   down. ``We must get ready for tomorrow's show!''

   He, Paul, and Jenna, worked feverously into the night hanging the
   paintings and setting the lights. Dawn broke and they were all passed out
   on the floor, or against the wall, exhausted.

   Michael had decided to go to the donut shop across the street to grab
   everyone some donuts, bagels, and coffee. When he walked back into the
   gallery, the noise of the door chime woke everybody up.

   ``Ah, glad to see you're awake,'' he said sarcastically. ``Breakfast is
   here.''

   He set everything out on the bar and leaned back against the wall while
   everyone ate.

   ``Michael,'' Paul said. ``Have something to eat.''

   ``I'm not hungry, thank you.'' he replied.

   ``You're very curious,'' he said, setting his donut down. ``In the three
   weeks you've been staying with me, I've yet to notice you eat, sleep, or
   go to the bathroom other than to shower.''

   ``You've got some peculiar habits of your own,'' he replied, trying to
   draw the conversation subject away from him.

   ``Yes, Paul,'' Jenna interjected. ``Leave him alone.''

   ``Mr. Briggs, will you be joining us this evening?'' Patrick asked.

   ``You'll have to,'' Paul said. ``You're the star of the show.''

   ``I guess I don't have much of a choice then, do I?'' he asked.

   With great exuberance, the group responded in unison, ``No!''

   Michael stepped away and took one last look at the paintings throughout
   the gallery. After examining all the pieces, he walked back to the group
   and told them he was going to back to Paul's apartment to rest.

   ``I'll drive you,'' Jenna said jumping up.

   ``It's okay, really,'' he replied.

   ``I insist,'' she said with a grin on her face clutching her arm around
   his as she escorted him to the back of the gallery.

   ``He's quite a catch,'' Patrick said to Paul, as Jenna and Michael left
   the room. ``Does his cock really look like what you've portrayed in your
   paintings?''

   ``Even better in person,'' Paul giggled as he responded. ``He's quite
   unusual, though.''

   ``How do you mean?''

   ``Well, I was serious when I brought up the fact that I've never noticed
   him eat or sleep,'' he said. ``And about two weeks ago, I forced myself to
   stay up for two straight days working on the largest piece and not once
   did he get up to go to the bathroom. I never saw him need anything to
   drink, either.''

   ``That is strange,'' said Patrick, agreeing with him.

   Later, while Jenna was driving them back to Paul's apartment, she was
   trying to get to know Michael a little better.

   ``Where are you from, Michael?'' she asked.

   ``I'm originally from Arizona, but I recently moved here about a month
   ago.'' he said.

   ``Is that when you met Paul?''

   ``Yes,'' he replied. ``He's very nice.''

   They made their way back to Paul's apartment. Jenna followed him upstairs.
   When he lifted the gates to the elevator he was struck with how barren
   Paul's apartment now looked without any paintings or canvases laying
   about.

   ``Thanks for the ride, I think I'm going to lay down for a few,'' he told
   her.

   ``Ok, I'm just going to use the phone,'' she said.

   Michael walked over to the bed, layed down, and closed his eyes. He wasn't
   tired; in fact he no longer needed sleep of any kind, but he wanted to be
   alone and figured this was the best way to make it happen.

   Across the room he heard Jenna hang up the phone. He was expecting to hear
   the doors to the elevator open signaling her leave when he felt someone
   get on the bed next to him.

   ``Jenna?'' he said, opening his eyes.

   ``I heard you don't need any sleep,'' she replied with an evil grin.

   ``Uh,'' he replied nervously. ``I do, and I'm tired.''

   She positioned herself so she was on top of his legs restricting his
   movements.

   ``Are you sure?'' she asked sarcastically, running her fingers up his legs
   to his crotch.

   The touch of her hands on his flesh and through the fabric of his shorts
   was starting to really turn him on.

   Beneath his shorts, his cock was starting to grow, yearning to be freed
   from its confines.

   ``Uh...'' he said again.

   Jenna then proceeded to unbutton and unzip Michael's fly. His cock sprang
   up at attention, trying to force its way through the remaining barrier,
   his boxers.

   ``My you're a mysterious man, Michael Briggs.'' she said with another
   giggle.

   Michael layed on his back, his hands at rest by his hips, as Jenna
   proceeded to remove his shorts and boxers. His cock was now pushing firmly
   against his abdomen; its head resting up just past his navel.

   She didn't say anything as she grasped his uncut cock in her hands and
   gently slid it inside her. She then let out screams of ecstasy and
   excitement as she took him for a ride; his essence brought upon wave after
   wave of orgasmic pleasure with each thrust. This left her spent and
   exhausted as she collapsed on top of him, wrapping her arms around his
   chest.

   ``Fucking unbelievable,'' she whispered to him. ``Thank you.''

   After she got dressed and left, Michael went into the bathroom to take a
   shower.

   After finishing with his shower, he relegated himself into the living room
   to read a book. ``War and Peace,'' he said outloud. ``Guess I have an
   eternity to read this now.''

   Sometime later, Paul came home; without saying a word he walked over to
   the bed and collapsed out of pure exhaustion.

   Michael had finished about half of the book when Paul woke up about 7
   hours later, took a shower, and got ready for the evening.

   The two headed for the gallery around 5pm. Paul was dressed in a white
   pirate short with black leather jeans while Michael decided to wear jeans
   and a t-shirt.

   When they arrived at the gallery, Jenna, Patrick, and the caterers were
   already there getting ready for the evening's festivities.

   The first guests arrived about an hour later and Michael excused himself
   to the back office where he proceeded to get undressed and put on a long
   robe. Patrick had convinced him to wear only the robe when they arrived
   earlier. The plan was to be that Michael would come out during the apex of
   the showing, disrobe so everyone could see what he looked like in person,
   and circulate through the gallery naked for the rest of the evening. He
   agreed to this because Patrick convinced him it would help sell the
   paintings.

   He could see through the security cameras in the back office that things
   looked like they were going pretty well. About 100 people showed up for
   the first night, which was by invitation only. Many of the elite were here
   admiring Paul's work.

   He was reading an issue of Smithsonian in his robe when Patrick came into
   the back office to check on him.

   ``How are you doing,'' Patrick asked.

   ``Very good. Things look like they're going well out there.'' he said.

   ``Are you ready for your debut?''

   ``As I'll ever be, I guess.''

   Patrick winked at him as he turned around to walk back out.

   ``Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention please.'' he said to the
   crowd, which hushed rather quickly and turned to face him. ``I'd like to
   introduce you to the subject of all these works, a masterpiece of art both
   on canvas and in person; please allow me this great honor of introducing
   to you Michael Briggs!''

   Michael walked out from the back office in his robe and stepped up to the
   platform which was built earlier that day. He then turned around so his
   back was facing the crowd, and let the robe fall to his feet.

   ``What an ass,'' a patron whispered to his partner as his fell upon the
   naked man.

   As he turned around to face his audience, a roar of cheers and applause
   reverberated throughout the gallery.

   ``What I wouldn't give to spend an evening with him,'' a woman whispered
   under her breath.

   ``Ladies and gentlemen, this is Michael Briggs,'' Patrick said; as more
   clapping followed.

   Michael got off the stage and began circulating through the crowd,
   introducing himself and meeting everyone in attendance.

   Sales of Paul's paintings were happening at a frenzied pace! The 36`` x
   48'' painting of Michael's erect cock, and balls, was turning into a
   semi-auction between three potential buyers.

   ``$15,000,'' one man said.

   ``$17,000,'' said a woman.

   ``$25,000,'' said another man.

   Michael walked over to see what the commotion was about.

   ``Isn't it great, Michael,'' Paul said, clutching his arm.

   ``Wonderful,'' he replied. ``If you'll excuse me gentlemen .... madam,
   I've got some more mingling to do.''

   He left to circulate back through the crowd when he was stopped by a
   rather tall man with a goatee.

   ``Hello, Michael,'' the man said. ``My name is Augustus Ramsey; have you
   ever been interested in making movies?''

   ``I'm not sure I know what you mean,'' Michael replied.

   The two chatted for a while where he learned that Augustus was a porno
   director. Augustus wanted to make Michael the next John Holmes.

   ``Sounds interesting,'' Michael said to him. The fact was, just talking
   about the possibility was getting him visibly turned on and before he knew
   it, he was standing in front of Augustus, holding his cappucino, with a
   raging hard-on.

   ``Come with me, back to L.A.'' he insisted.

   He agreed, and the two men walked out the door.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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