Jack P

How to Make it in Show Business

or

How Hunter Got Into Show Business

Chapter 1

Hunter Parish sat between his mom and dad smiling nervously at Mr. Juiles. The talent agent leaned back in his chair, studying Hunter, appraising him. It made Hunter uncomfortable, the way the middle aged man preened at him. Mr. Juiles' slicked back hair and hawkish nose gave him a predatory look while his hunched shoulders and bony frame reminded Hunter of a vulture. This thought didn't do anything to relieve the ten-year-old's unease.

His parents shifted uncomfortably beside him as the man, who could be Hunter's gateway to fame and fortune, stared silently. Finally, the man said, "Your screen test went really well. Very impressive, yes. If it were two decades ago, you would have been the perfect Harry Potter. Yes."

Hunter's dad cleared his throat, recovered from the shock of the sudden break in the silence. With a hesitantly hopeful voice, "So you think Hunter will get the role?"

"No." Hunter's heart sank as the mood of the room went from anxiously optimistic to depressingly crushed in an instant. "They already offered it to that Ashe kid. You started too late in the process."

"But we thought-" Mr. Juiles held up a hand signaling his mother silent.

"That's not how it works in this town, Mrs. Parish. It is more important who you know. Yes. Or who knows you. Your skill and talent will get you in the door, but you need to socialize with the directors and producers. You've done well in the first step, but that was the easy part. Now you need to network."

"But Hunter is just a boy. How does a ten year old network?" Hunter's mom asked, frustration seeping into her voice.

"Just like everyone else," Mr. Juiles snapped sharply, annoyed at the typical naive question, "Hunter," he turned his gaze on the boy. "you need face time, mingling with these people. That is the only way."

"How do we 3; How does Hunter do that?" Mr. Parish asked.

"Well, there are a couple of ways. Hunter can go to open auditions. But there are literally hundreds," Mr. Juiles emphasized that last word, "of other kids at open auditions All just as talented and just as cute as Hunter. It will be pointless."

"Then how-," Mr. Parish began before Mr. Juiles signaled silence again.

"Brendan Baily is throwing a small party with his favorite writers and director this Friday. An 'inspiration nights' he calls it. They usually have a couple of potential actors around to help the inspiration process. I don't pretend to understand artists, but this is one of Baily's quirks. I can try to get Hunter invited."

"Just Hunter? There's no way I'm letting him go to a party alone."

Mr. Juiles sighed. He hated parents. This job would be so much easier without them. "I'll be with Hunter." Mr. Parish's mouth opened to protest, but Mr. Juiles was quicker, "These producers have had truly awful experiences with parents. So much so that if they see you before the film is in theatres, Hunter's career is done."

"I'm still not comfortable-," Mrs. Parish stopped. This time it wasn't due to a signal from the agent. Instead, Mr. Juiles reached out his hand with an envelope. Mr. Parish opened it and pulled out a check. Looking at it, his eyes went wide.

"This is an advance my agency is willing to make. It is a sign of the faith we have in your son."

"Okay," Mr. Parish acquiesced, "but promise me you'll take care of Hunter."

"Excellent. I will pick Hunter up at 8 on Friday and will return him to you at around noon on Saturday."

"Wait a minute," Mrs. Parish interrupted, "You want him overnight. He's a little young 3;"

Mr. Juiles sighed again. "I know this is all new, but you need to trust me. If you want to see more of those checks and you want your boy to become the star he was born to be, this really is the best way. These creative-types need time for their inspirations to percolate. And let me be honest. There will be drugs and alcohol and Hunter will be expected to participate-" Mr. Parish opened his mouth angrily, but Mr. Juiles was already continuing, "but I'm going to make sure he doesn't over do it. I have a lot of experience in this."

Hunter was quietly following along. He didn't really understand all this, but the look on his parents faces made him certain they were about to stop this. His father was fingering the check, unsure weather to give it back, and his mother's face was red with fury. He really wanted this. He'd loved movies his whole life. All ten years and he needed to do this. Needed to be part of this. "Mom, Dad." The three adults looked at him, "Please. It won't be so bad and I really want to do this."

Mrs. Parish looked at him with pity, "But your too young, you don't know-"

Hunter's eyes grew hard, "I know this is my only chance. Don't ruin it for me."

His mother closed her mouth and looked at him defeated. Mr. Juiles smiled in victory. Hunter's father said to the talent agent. "Very well. I will hold you responsible of anything happens to Hunter."

"I understand," Mr. Juiles had to force solemnity in his voice.

"We'll see you Friday evening."

"Oh, one last thing, Mr. and Mrs. Parish. I'll need Hunter for fifteen minutes here for a quick photoshoot. It is best to send something to Baily before the party. A few days of sitting on Hunter's face will really help Baily see him in the role. You can wait at the bar at the end of the hall, there." he indicated the direction, opening the door for the Parishes. "Help yourself to whatever you want."

***

Charlie, Augustus Juiles secretary, watched as the cute boy's parents walked to the bar with hesitancy. That means that cute little boy was going to be the star of a party. Too bad Charlie wasn't invited. He pulled out a touch-up kit from his desk and walked into Agustus' office.

***

"Now that we're alone, I can be frank with you, Hunter. Your parents don't recognize your talent or understand your ambition, so let's keep this conversation between us. Yes?"

Hunter nodded, "They never understand me."

Mr. Juiles walked over to Hunter and rubbed his shoulders in sympathy. "They never will, so you need to be really careful what you say around them." Mr. Juiles assistant, Charlie, walked in with a black satchel. He was very effeminent and young, probably only 18. Maybe younger. He had curly blonde hair, a very slight, boyish frame, and a toned, tanned body. Hunter was enamored with this boy. He didn't act like any boy or man Hunter knew. Charlie walked like a girl, he wore make-up, and called him 'Sweety'.

As Charlie started to empty his bag on the side table, Mr. Juiles redrew Hunter's attention. "So let's get started. Charlie, here, is just going to give you a few touch-ups." The young man walked up with a brush and dabbed Hunter's face with a thin layer of powder. "Perfect!" the assistant said after a moment.

Mr. Juiles took out his camera and pointed it at Hunter's face. Hunter didn't know where to look. Mr. Juiles directed him. "Look at the painting behind my shoulder." SNAP! "Now, look at me, but don't smile." SNAP! "Now, smile." SNAP! "Bite your lip and look innocent. Good." SNAP!

"Okay. Get on your knees and look up at me." Hunter did and Mr. Juiles got really close before SNAP!

"Now on your hands and knees and look up." Mr. Juiles walked around Hunter taking a lot of pictures in this position.

"Now Hunter, these next shots need to be kept secret, okay?" The boy nodded his assent. "Good. Take off your shirt." Hunter only hesitated a moment before pulling off his polo and setting it to the side. Charlie was quick to powder his chest, hiding a small birthmark and a couple of minor scars. Then Mr. Juiles was taking pictures again, telling Hunter how to pose and where to look. It was kind of fun, like he was being directed in a movie.

"Okay. Lose the shoes and pants."

Hunter hesitated. "W-what?" he asked, unsure if he understood.

Mr. Juiles lowered the camera and looked at the naive boy. "There will be a brief nude scene in Mr. Baily's movie. He needs to know how you look naked so he can start planning the shots."

"But I don't have the part yet." Hunter protested.

"If you do well at the party, and trust me, you will, then the part is yours. I have a lot of experience in this." he stepped up to the preteen and in a hard, commanding voice said, "Now, Hunter, drop your pants." Hunter obeyed.

Again, the talent agent snapped dozens of pictures of Hunter, in just his boxers and socks. Hunter was put in lots of odd positions. Leaning back in a chair with his foot held up. On his back, arms behind his head smiling up at Mr. Juiles. Laying on his stomach with his legs up and crossed. His favorite was when Charlie got involved. Mr Juiles had Hunter sit on Charlie's lap, chest to chest. Charlie was still fully dressed, but he hugged the boy. Hunter's face was towards the camera and he had a very contented and relaxed expression.

Finally, Hunter ended up in that same position down on his hands and knees like a puppy. Mr. Juiles took a lot of pictures of him like that, especially from behind. Then, Mr. Juiles said, simply, "Charlie." Hunter felt his boxers pulled down to his knees.

"Wha-" he began before being ordered to not move by the man he was starting to see as his boss. Hunter felt the soft bristles of the brush tickling between his cheeks. He was still on all fours and this must have made it really easy for Charlie to make-up his butt. But why? SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! Mr. Juiles finished up with a few more photos then told Hunter to get dressed.

"Remember," The man said to the boy, "Don't tell anyone, or you'll lose your shot at Hollywood."

"I won't." the boy replied, believing him. Then he smiled at the man and hugged him. "Thank you, Mr. Juiles. See you Friday." Charlie escorted the boy to find his parents, probably tipsy, in the lounge.

Mr. Juiles went to his computer to download the images. He sorted through them, filing the best shots for Brendan Baily. After a few minutes Charlie walked in. "Do you require anything else from me?"

Mr. Juiles looked at the last image on the screen. It showed the white curves of a ten-year-old butt, cheeks spread wide, anal passage tight and virgin, a compact prepubescent scrotum sat below. "Yes."

Charlie walked over to his employer, knelt down in front of him, and took the hard, familiar penis in his mouth. Charlie knew how to please the man. He'd been swinging on the man's dick for the past five years, since he was a twelve-year-old, newly outed, and newly disowned fag. He sucks on the man's cock, waiting for the nut to fill his mouth while the man ogled the soon-to-be newest member of the Hollywood Boys Harem.

Chapter 2

"He's here! He's here!" Hunter's Alto voice rang out from the front window as he jumped up and down in excitement. "Mr. Juiles is here."

He ran to the front door but was pulled to a stop by his father. "Remember what your mother said. Don't let anyone touch your danger parts." Mr. Parish instructed his son. Somehow, he knew what it was going to take for Hunter to get into show business, but he remembered that check and the promise of many more.

"I remember. Can I go?"

His father opened the door. "Break a leg."

***

I watched the lithe little boy bound towards my car, an eager, easy smile on his face under his impeccably neatly combed light brown hair. He was dressed formally, a button-up dress shirt, blue blazer and matching slacks with a burgundy neck tie. A little formal for this affair, but damn he looked cute. I thought Baily would love to unwrap that packaging. Still, Millson liked to see more skin, and he was really the one that needed to be convinced.

As Hunter got to the passenger door, his smile faltered. The nerves must have caught up to him, now that he was face-to-face with the most monumental moment of his life. He opened the door, and slowly got in. "Looking sharp, boy." I complimented while at the same time decided to start using the demeaning term he'd go by for the rest of the night. He was unfazed by the minor insult, as most naive boys were, but Hollywood perverts got their thrills by the secret.

"Thanks," he mumbled looking at his hands. I sped off, telling Hunter all about the men he'd soon meet and the movies they'd made, the millions they'd earned. And the boys' careers they'd orchestrated. This gave Hunter a distraction he latched onto, forgetting his nerves. But as soon as we pulled through Brendan Baily's gate and he saw the impressive mansion, he fell quiet again and started to breathe heavily. I reached past him and took a joint from the glove box. Lighting it, I took a short hit and felt the familiar waves of euphoria pass through me.

"Here," I handed him the pot. He took it, but hesitated. "Just suck on it and breathe in. You'll feel better." After another moment of hesitation, Hunter did as I directed. His face immediately relaxed and he grinned cheekily.

"Let's do this!" He opened the door, but I grabbed his hand and pulled him back.

"Whoa whoa whoa." I studied him. "This is going to be a crazy party. Fun, but crazy. We don't want to mess up those nice clothes, do we?"

He looked at me for a moment, then took another hit and smiled at me. "Should I go naked?" he laughed, undoing his tie. Drugs did amazing things.

I took the joint from him, snuffed it out and returned it to the glove box. There'd be plenty inside so there is no point wasting my stash. I handed him a sack. "Change into these." Without modesty, Hunter quickly stripped in front of me. I gazed at his hairless boyhood. He looked up at me, seeing me eye his privates he giggled at me and wiggled his hips causing his inch of softness to sway. I laughed, amused at the child's antics, unaware of the stirrings he was giving me.

Hunter pulled out his new party clothes from the bag. He quickly donned the shirt, but it was on backwards so I helped him turn it around. I felt the softness of the boy's skin as I pulled the shirt into place. It was green, with sequins styled in writing that said "I'm an easy pro". I don't think Hunter even looked at the words. He sat in front of me in just the shirt, which came down just below his belly button. I was tempted to have him go in just that, but that would be too forward. And it looked like the high, was slowly ebbing, so we needed to get the the party soon, before the kid lost his nerves again.

I handed Hunter the next item. He held it, looking at me in confusion. "Lift your leg." I helped him slide his foot into one of the holes, then the other. He pulled up the garment. I had him turn around, and pulled up the Flossy wedge tightly into his crack. The boy turned to me and broke my heart. He was wearing a short tee and a slutty red thong. I almost couldn't help myself and raped him their, but I would have lost millions if I ruined him now.

Finally, Hunter pulled on the short, tight cotton shorts, white knee socks, and skater shoes. As he got out of the car, I admired his round bumps, pushing against his shorts for freedom. I got out of the car, too and immediately heard the thumping of dance music blaring out of Bailey's house. I took in a full once-over of my little boy charge. He looked like a preteen go-go dancer. Good. That was the goal. I took his hand and we walked to the party.

***

Hunter was still in a bit of a fog as Mr. Juiles led him through the front door, but he still felt a little uncomfortable by what he saw. It just didn't seem normal or right. There were about a couple dozen boys around his age or a little older on a dance floor grinding and bumping while a handful of men chatted and watched. This was Hollywood, but it was still very strange. The other boys were dressed similar to Hunter, in revealing clothes.

Mr. Juiles slapped his butt and said, "Why don't you go dance?" he pushed the boy firmly in the direction of the dance floor. He leaned over and yelled into Hunter's ear to be heard above the music, "Remember, you're trying to impress. Have fun!" And he walked away to chat with the other adults.

Hesitant and unsure, Hunger walked slowly to the other boys on the dance floor. He rubbed his elbow in a nervous tick. That weird cigarette Mr. Juiles had given him to relax had almost worn off. Hunter stood at the edge of the dance platform, watching the hypnotic gyrations of the dancers, not really knowing what to do.

One of the boys, a small black kid in a white mesh football Jersey and white tight shorts takes a few steps in Hunter's direction to make eye contact. He smiles at Hunter and waves him over. Hunter smiles back, nervously, but walks quickly to the boy who has now left his small group.

The black boy leaned in close and shouted, "I'm LeBoyd."

"LeBoyd?" Hunter shouted unsure if he heard correctly.

"Yeah, like LeBron, but better!" LeBoyd laughed at his own joke. Hunter laughed, too, his nerves relaxing.

"You're cute," LeBoyd continued. "What's your name?"

Hunter blushed at the unusual, but welcome compliment and he told LeBoyd his name.

"Hunter's a cool name. A star's name!" LeBoyd said sagely. "Is this your first time to a Hollywood Big Boy party?"

Hunter nodded yes. LeBoyd could sense his trepidation and smiled. "Here." The black boy proffered a glass to Hunter.

"What is it?" Hunter asked.

"Try it. It's like a chocolate milkshake, but with a little kick. It'll make you feel better." Hunter took a sip. It did taste like a milkshake with a little bit of spiciness to it. He started drinking thirstily as LeBoyd watched, smiling. When Hunter was done, LeBoyd took the glass and set it off a table before returning to Hunter. "Can I give you some advice?"

"Yes, please," Hunter said

"Have fun, dance, and do whatever those guys tell you." He pointed at the group of men Mr. Juiles had joined. Hunter followed LeBoyd's pointing and suddenly the room spun oddly. It was like everything slowed down. Or sped up. He couldn't decide, but it was funny. Hunter laughed which elicited another chuckle from his companion. "Do you know how to dance?" Hunter shook his head, laughing more at the oddly spinning world.

Smiling at the tipsy, boy, LeBoyd took Hunter's hands and pulled the boy to him. He started to teach Hunter how to move with the rhythms. How to bump and grind and gyrate. Hunter was lost in the euphoric fun, laughing and dancing with his all, oblivious to the foursome of leering movie execs watching the new meat twerk, grinding, and gyrate sexily.

Most of the other boys were in their own drug and alcohol fueled words, dancing alone or in small groups, trying to attract the attention of the older men watching. But one boy was unreserved in his seductions. Between the distractions of the spinning room and the intimate, exciting contact of LeBoyd as he rubbed his tight dark body against Hunter's, the ten year old noticed one of the few younger boy in the throes of his own world. He was a very cute blonde haired, blue eyed cherub with a little button nose, egg-shaped face, and athletic body. He was wearing jean shorts, cut to mid thigh and a tight tank-top. It looked like it was made of that fabric the use in speedos, or wrestling gear. Yea, Hunter decided, the blonde boy was wearing a bright yellow wrestling singlet.

Hunter got excited at that thought. He'd done some after school wrestling. Maybe there would be wrestling here. He was good at that, and it would be a fun break from trying to dance. Hunter was sure he was flailing like and idiot, but for some reason, wasn't at all self conscious about it. As LeBoyd rubbed his chest up and down Hunter's body, he watched the little blond boy bust his moves. The kid was grinding by himself, squatting low and rhythmically thrusting his butt back, as if he was trying to rub it against the floor, but was just a little too high.

LeBoyd was staring at the group of men, trying to see if he had captured any of their attentions while Hunter was transfixed to the blond boy who was standing up. He turned and noticed Hunter's attentions and smiled at the ten year old. With a practiced ease, the blond boy unsnapped his shorts and let them fall to the dance floor before kicking them out of the way. He continued to bump his hips up and down, forward and back. Hunter was right, the boy was wearing a wrestler's singlet.

LeBoyd, realizing he had lost Hunter's attention, danced over to another small group of boys. The blond boy smiled at Hunter and made his way to him. Hunter smiled nervously at the boy as he came to him. The kid only came up to the bottom of Hunter's nose, but something about him gave him a commanding presence.

"I'm Zachy," the blond boy eased his bouncing as he spoke in a quiet voice that rasped like he was whispering, though he was probably yelling as loud as he could. "You must be the new kid, Hunter?"

"Yeah, its nice to meet you, Zachy. You have sweet moves."

"Thanks, my sister taught me. She's a stripper." A twinkle shown in Zachy's eye made Hunter think the boy was just toying with him. "I can teach you sometime."

"Thanks! How about now?" Hunter was eager to learn how to impress his (hopefully) future employers.

"Nah, no time. This part of the party is almost over." Zachy indicated the dance floor, now much emptier than before. So was the rest of the room as many of the men and boys had seemed to vanish while Hunter wasn't paying attention. He didn't see Mr. Juiles or LeBoyd anymore either. This started to make him nervous that he was left alone. But Zachy was there and he seemed really nice.

Zachy turned to continue dancing and Hunter gasped. The bum of Zachy's singlet was gone! Zachy once again squatted and grinded his hips, his white bubble buns opening. Hunter couldn't take his eyes from the little puckered hole. He'd never seen a butthole before. Some reason, he didn't think it would look so smooth and neat. But it did. It wasn't gross at all, but mesmerizing.

Chapter 3

Mr. Juiles' reward with Carlos, Juan, and LeBoyd

LeBoyd wasn't really annoyed when Zachy, the little eight year old slut took the new kid. He was too busy eying the Bosses: Brendan Bailey, legendary film producer; Myles Milson, Brendan's business partner; and Leroy Lovecoke, an Oscar winning writer and director. They were also with a man LeBoyd knew only by reputation. Augustus Juiles was a well-known child talent agent. He had made many starts famous from Andy Santana to Laurina Che. But for as many true break-out child stars he produced, there were dozens who whored themselves in this business for naught. Not that Juiles cared. He got paid either way: star or whore. If he'd signed LeBoyd, LeBoyd would be one of his many failures. LeBoyd had gotten nothing but tiny bit parts for all his services.

But LeBoyd was clever. He knew, after a few years of trying and a few years of seeing true talent make it, that he wasn't destined for stardom. So he made a deal with Bailey. He'd show up at these parties, entertain the man's perverted guests, and Bailey would teach him the inner workings of show business.

Noticing the room's occupants getting sparse, LeBoyd made his way off the dance floor for another drink, but Bailey caught his eye and motioned him over.

***

"We are really impressed with your work, Augustus." Mr. Lovecoke was saying.

"Yes, that new boy, what's his name?" Bailey asked as an adorable black preteen sauntered up and slipped his arm around the producer.

"Hunter," I replied as I eyed the little black boy. His slender, four foot two inches [1.25 m] frame was shining with sweat, his head shaved smooth and gleamed. His smile was easy as his eyes met mine. His scent was intoxicating, still boyish with no hint of manly musk, and I felt myself grow.

"Yes, Hunter. Cock Hunter," we all laughed at the lame joke. Coke makes everything funny. "I really like him."

"Good, his preliminary audition went well. I had him do 'Chester's Mansion' and he plays the abuse victim well." I bragged truthfully, "One of the best, and he certainly has the heart breaker look. Going for him."

"That he does. We'll see how eager he is to please tonight, but I do think you deserve a little bonus." Bailey looked at the little black boy and instructed, "LeBoyd, stay with Mr. Juiles tonight."

LeBoyd gave me that winning smile and reached out his hand. I took it, feeling his softness, moist with his perspiration. He led me as I eyed his toned back through his white mesh shirt and admired his rear, pushing tightly against the silky soft white shorts.

LeBoyd took me down the guest wing, which was full of half a dozen suites designed for entertaining Bailey's guests. As we we entered the hallway, distinctive slurping, slapping, moaning, and groaning could be heard coming from every room. None of the rooms had doors, no secrets among the elite. LeBoyd led me past room after room, and I couldn't help peek in on the other guests.

The first room had a couple of Latino twins servicing a younger Asian man who I didn't recognize. Probably a Chinese filmmaker, they were becoming more and more important. One of the twins was slurping on the man's prick, while his brother's face was deep in the man's ass.

In the next room, Rafael Le'Strata, a fat French director who'd been around for ages, was thrusting into what looked like the mattress of the large bed. But my quick voyeur scan was enough to see a little head peeking up, gasping for breath. There was a little boy wedged between the fat man and the mattress, clearly struggling while being sodomized by the old queen.

The third room was quite the party, from the look of things. Three boys were servicing five men. One boy was riding a big black cock as he was sucking the dangling balls of another man while one of his friends was simultaneously choking on an adult dick and fisting the anus that went with it. The third boy was clearly the luckiest. He was sitting on a man's face while the fifth man was fellating him. He was in heaven.

LeBoyd pulled me into the next room and walked over to the bed. His butt tightened and relaxed, holding my eyes with ease. When he got to the plush king-sized bed, he turned around and gasped as I surprised him by grabbing his globes and lifting him into my arms. Before I knew it, without thinking, my lips were pushing against his, my tongue was pushing through his mouth. He recovered from the surprise quickly, and massaged my tongue with his, moaning softly. He tasted like chocolate and rum. My hands were still engulfing his little bubbles, kneading and squeezing as if they had minds of their own.

LeBoyd's body was pressed firmly against mine. As my hands toyed and our tongues sparred, I felt his little boyhood poking firmly in my core. I broke the kiss, not reluctantly, but eager to continue. I looked between us, his boy-erection pushing against the thin fabric of his shorts. Removing a hand from his delightful rear, I squeezed his prepubescent penis, feeling his two inch hardness from above his little grapes to the tip of his helmet. He moaned in heat the way only a boy could.

I threw the fifty-five pound [25 kg] thing to the bed and quickly stripped my clothes off before his wide eager eyes. LeBoyd eyed me up and down, measuring my attractiveness. He saw my five foot eight [1.75 m] lean frame, peppered with a smattering of curly hair. He saw my lean, but defined muscles slide and flex under my skin. He saw my hardened prick, 6.5 inches [16.5 cm] in length, engorged to its full five inch [12.5 cm] circumference pointing down at him drooling in lust.

As I climbed on the bed over the ten-year-old, he reached expertly for my penis. I lightly slapped his hand away and dove on the boy, wresting him. He shrieked, part in surprise and part in humor as my fingers scurried up his sides inside his mesh shirt. He squealed in pleasure-pain as I twisted his nipples, aroused and firm. He struggled as I handled him, spinning him around to pull off the shirt and yank down his tight shorts, freeing his chocolaty smoothness to the evening air.

I held him down, but leaned up to inspect his body. His dark skin was perfectly smooth and tight against his immature, but well defined muscles. I admired his shapely biceps, his flat stomach, his budding, but still small pecs. His legs were slender, but not bony. LeBoyd was still all boy, not hint of puberty had marred his childness. His little-boy penis, while aroused, was a slender two inches [5 cm], a purple head peeked out of the folds of his foreskin. He was a consistent ebony, except for his palms, the bottoms of his feet, and his groin which were all lighter. He spent a lot of time in a Speedo in the sun, darkening most of him, but leaving his best parts protected. The contrast from his tan made his bits glow, drawing my focus.

With a growl, I fell back onto the boy, eliciting an "oof" as he gasped from my weight. I spun us around so he was on top, straddling my stomach. I could feel his soft, hairless sac rub against me as my dick slipped naturally between his butt cheeks. I ached for his hole, but I had all night for that, and I wanted some service first. I wanted him to taste me like a good little boy should. Using my hands to guide him, I spun him around so we were in an uneven sixty-nine position, his head at my leaking groin, his hips on my chest.

Ever experienced LeBoyd knew instinctively what was expected. At first, I felt the softness of his tiny tongue lap at my urethral opening, tasting and then cleaning my pre. Then his tongue wedged itself between my glands and my foreskin, capturing the slick slime that wet it. I moaned in frustration as the expert tongue teased me.

Looking down at the child who was worshiping my sex, I greeted the full moon on my chest. LeBoyd's legs were spread wide across my chest, his balls mashed between us. His lighter butt, hills before me spread wide. The tight little anus, only slightly darker than the surrounding skin, lay still and tight. I wondered, briefly, if this little hole had ever been used, but of course it had. No anus belonging to a tongue so expert as his was virgin. He was just naturally tight. But how tight? I had to know.

I wet my finger in my mouth, just the one. If LeBoyd's ten-year-old anus was as tight as it looked, I wanted to only stretch it out with something other than my fingers. So I used just my index finger, and entered his hole, smooth and tight. My invasion surprised the boy, and he lurched forward, taking an inch and a half of myself inside his mouth unintentionally. He also clenched tight. My finger, already straining to push farther in, his tightness severe felt his sphincter twitch tighter. This convulsion passed through my finger, up my arm, and down my body. My prick was where the reaction ended, throbbing in joy and spraying a small jet of my precum to the back of his mouth. I wasn't sure if his moans were from my taste or my finger, but they were unmistakably in pleasure.

He clearly was planning on teasing me more and started to pull off my hardness, but it was too late and I was too far gone to let him keep control. I pushed my free hand against his smooth skull, forcing his lips to my balls, like and expert, he didn't gag, but I could feel his throat muscles constricting with strain against my penis. With effort, I pushed my finger fully into his body as suction started on my cock. With my finger, I felt around for his little bump, so small and hard to find in boys. It didn't take long before I was thumping his immature little prostate with my finger. His hips started to grind against me as my gifted pleasure took hold.

All the while, LeBoyd's dark lips held tight against my shaft, his tongue sucking firmly, his throat clenching around my mushroom tip. He certainly couldn't breath, but I was close, so I didn't stop him until the end. When I felt me seed work through my groin, I quickly pushed him off of me and onto his back. I leaped up and crouched over him, grabbing both of his little hands. I placed one on my penis and his little hand started stroking me professionally, eager to bring me to joy. His fingers only wrapped halfway around me, but it was enough. I mashed the fingers of his other hand into a wedge and violently shoved it up my own ass, enjoying the slightly painful stretching of my sphincter. Not that I needed it, but there is something about having a preteen fisting me that always gets me off.

With a mighty yell, I shot my ejaculate onto the boy below me. My seed roped across his face, his neck, his chest as my sphincter crushed violently against his hand. My shots quickly tuned into thick drips as my happy orgasm ended.

I looked down at my little black boy. He was looking up at me, blinking with those big brown eyes, strips of white streaked up his face. His bright white smile matched the pearly pool on his tongue. My softening cock was between his face and mine. I wiped the remainder of my jizz on his button nose, adding a white pimple to his black and white face. He smiled at me. A smile that said "What about me?"

Chapter 4

Hot Tub with the three execs, Quentin, and Hunter. Hunter is molested, Quentin is fucked?

Hunter Parish stood nervously to the side of the now empty dance floor. Everyone had left except for that group of men Mr. Juiles was with before he left and a dark-skinned teen who looked almost like he could have been LeBoyd's brother. The last kid to leave was that crazy Zachy kid in the buttless singlet. After speaking a quick word in the blonde boy's little ear, a fat man with a coarse dark beard put the boy in an odd wrestling grab. Zachy was carried away in the man's furry arms, one arm wrapped tightly around the boy's shoulders and neck, the other grabbed the boy between the legs. Hunter was shocked to see the man's thumb disappear into the boy's butt. And Zachy didn't seem to mind. Instead, the boy smiled and giggled in delight. This was a very strange party.

Hunter wasn't sure what to do with himself now that he wasn't in the middle of a crowd. He felt really uncomfortable in the tight, too small tee, his weirdly long socks and the super short shorts. Even smaller than girls wear.

He felt odd being so partially covered, his tummy was exposed to his waist, and his penis was almost exposed. He knew the top of his butt stuck out and he kept trying to pull up the shots to cover himself properly, but was unsuccessful. Even worse, that strange piece of underwear Mr. Juiles had made him wear was sticking out the top. It was surprisingly comfortable, but still embarrassing. Hunter noticed his reflection in a mirror across the room. His embarrassment grew when he realized the whiteness of his untanned groin harshly contrasted with his much darker sun-kissed belly.

Hunter's unease was interrupted when one of the remaining men caught his eye and waved him over. Taking a deep breath, Hunter moved to the small group, trying not to let his nerves show. This is why he had insisted on coming to this party and it's why he hadn't run off at the first signs of weirdness. These men were his future and fame in show business. He needed to impress or his career would be over before it started. He really wished Mr. Juiles hadn't abandoned him.

"Hello, Hunter," Beamed the man who had waved him over. He was a tall man, heavily built. Not fat, but massive with a broad chest, thick arms and legs that pushed against the fabric of his clothing. He wore a clean, trimmed snark neared that matched his short but styled hair. His thick framed glasses exemplified his eyes, so blue they almost glowed. Hunter couldn't look away as the man continued, "We are so happy to meet you. Augustus told us so much about your talent. I'm Brendan Bailey." he held out his hand for Hunter to shake.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Bailey," Hunter said politely, trying to be professional.

Mr. Bailey's beam split his beard again, "Please, boy, just call me Bailey. And this," Bailey motioned to an older man whose stomach sagged with fat, "is my star writer, Leroy Lovecoke.". The big man took my hand as if to shake it, but stepped forward instead and planted a very soft, very wet kiss on it. The boy blushed, embarrassed to be treated like a girl, but didn't say anything, not wanting to offend the men.

Finally, the last man, stepped forward. His skin was darker, almost Middle-Eastern. He was older than the others, with pure white hair and was overweight, too. Not nearly as bad as Mr. Lovecoke, but certainly not in as shape as Bailey. This new man didn't even bother with the politeness of shaking Hunter's hand. He simple walked up to the starlet and started to rub his naked belly. Hunter was too stunned at the brazen action to protest, but his shiver gave away his discomfort at the forwardness of the older man. But again, Hunter didn't say anything, worried about his career. Nobody else said anything either.

"I really liked your audition tape, " Leroy said smiling at Hunter as Bailey walked over to the bar and started pouring five drinks.

"Thank you, sir, " Hunter replied, relaxing as he began talking about his expertise, "I was inspired by Corey Fields early work and am pretty pleased with it, but I think there are a few things I would do differently.

"Oh?" the third, older man said with interest. He hadn't caught his name, yet, but Hunter was sure he was Myles Millson, a famous producer. "What would you have done differently?"

As the two men chatted with professional interest with the ten year old, the black teen sauntered over to Leroy and wrapped his slender arms around one the man's arms. Leroy, still interested in the cute your actor, absentmindedly rubbed the front of the black teen's pants.

Bailey walked over, precariously balancing the five drinks and handed them out. Hunter took his as Bailey joined the conversation. "What is your favorite type of movie, Hunter?"

"To watch, I like action movies like Mr. Spymaster. But for acting, musical comedies are the best."

"So you can sing, kid?" the teen asked, his skepticism clear.

Hunter opened his mouth to respond, but Bailey interrupted, "Why don't we all continue this shop talk in the Jacuzzi. I'm feeling a little dry."

With that, the three men and the teen all stripped completely nude and walked into the ground-level pool. Hunter just stood holding his drink.

"C'mon, dude," Myles was eyeing Hunter with undisguised lust. "Get in, it will help you relax."

Hunter took a sip of the sour concoction and shifted nervously. He didn't want to be naked with these people, but he still really needed to make his good impression. With sigh, Hunter pulled off his shirt, fully aware of the four sets of eyes examining him. He threw the mini-shirt aside and took another sip of the drink. He knew it had alcohol, but he also knew he needed that alcohol to keep going with this. So he took another gulp and kicked off his shoes. Hunter knelt on the floor in the deafening silence and started pulling off the long white socks as the men stared up the leg openings of his shorts, impatient to see a peek.

Finally, after another swig and feeling his head start to buzz again, Hunter quickly dropped his shorts, struggling for a moment as they caught on his knees. They were so tight. Once he had freed himself, Hunter stood in that little red thing covering his most private parts, but only his most private parts. He looked over at the foursome in the tub. Bailey sat slightly apart, and the black boy was between the two other men, both of whom were immediately close to the lad. The teen didn't seem to mind, though.

"We're all guys, here. No need to be bashful. Take it off and get it. The water is so fine." There was an edge to Bailey's voice and Hunter realized this was the big test. He couldn't fail so he drained the last of the drink and, before he could stop himself, stepped out of the thong and walked quickly, almost running, to the concealment of the pool. All eyes followed the flapping of his bits until he hid under the water. Hunter sat across from everyone until Bailey stood up and sloshed over to him. Hunter watched the man's plump, dangling cock and full sack. He'd never seen adult genitals before and was mesmerized by the newness.

Bailey sat against the new boy, pulling him to the man. It was surprisingly comfortable nestling up with the older man, an intimacy Hunter rarely experienced at home. "You know, Hunter. We're shooting a movie in August and I think we have a fairly important role for you if you're interested."

Hunter's eyes opened wide, "Oh I am, Bailey, sir."

The men chuckled. Leroy exclaimed skeptically, "You don't even know what it is."

"He's right," said Bailey, looking down at Hunter. "But we can do a brief audition here tonight to give us a better idea if this is a good role for you.

The black boy was pouting between the two men, but Hunter didn't think it was because of the squish of old man flesh pushing on his sides. "He's been here an hour and you're already casting him." he complained jealously, "I've been schlepping for you for years and 3; nothing!"

Leroy rolled his eyes, but smiled at the black kid, "Poor Quentin," he teased. "Tell you what. I'm going to my retreat upstate next week. Come with me and help me write a part for you." He lowered his hand into the bubbling steaming water. It looked to Hunter that the man's hand was in the teen's, Quentin's, lap. Quentin's expression was a mixture of skeptical hope, and mild resignation.

"I'm betting that's not all we're going to do."

Hunter looked at the trio across from him in confusion. He knew there was a subtext he was missing, but didn't really care. He basically had a job. There was just an audition that he needed to ace, but it seemed like these guys were confident he'd do well.

He looked at the man next to him. "What do you want me to do?"

"Well, Hunter. This is an adult movie. You are going to be playing a boy named Benny who has been kidnapped by the enemies of his powerful CEO father. Your character will be severely abused, but will come to love and adore his abusers."

Hunter was unsure. "This doesn't sound very realistic."

Millson smiled at the kid's naivety, "It's actually based on a true story." His smile was disconcerting. "I actually 3; interviewed this young Benny recently, so will be able to coach you a bit."

"Okay, thank you, sir," Hunter responded politely. "I really have no experience in this so I guess I'll need your help a lot."

"I look forward to it, boy."

Bailey took on a professional tone, "You should know a little bit of the abuse poor Benny goes through so you can figure out how you can portray it on screen. Quentin," He looked to the dark teen, "why don't you and your friends there do a little educational performance in CSA? Hunter, watch closely, you'll need to learn these things to be convincing."

Without warning, Millson grabbed Quentin's head and shoved him face-first under the water. Hunter gasped as he watched the boy's head, obscured by the broiling water bob his head above, or was it in, Mr. Millson's crotch. The man teamed back and moaned, releasing the teen's head and allowing the boy to take control.

Before long, Quentin splashed up from the water, coughing for air. He was crouched in the tub so just his head was above water. Leroy stood and stepped towards the gasping teen and Hunter's eyes bulged wide. The fat man's thing was huge. And it didn't dangle softly against his balls like Hunter's did, it stood straight out, the head purple and angry. Hunter put his hand in his lap, self-conscious of his soft little dingle, but started in surprise when he felt himself hard. He squeezed himself gently, testing the newness of his dick. It was soft but hard at the same time. Hunter wondered if Mr. Leroy's big one felt like that.

Bailey noticed Hunter's hand placement as Leroy shoved his cock in Quentin's mouth between gasps. The man's balls banged against the teenaged chin once all of his eight inches [20 cm] were swallowed by the expert slut. As Leroy began face fucking the teen, Bailey reached under the water and moved Hunter's hand away from his boy bits. The man quickly replaced the boy's hand with his own fingers and started rhythmically masturbating the distracted preteen. Gasps of pleasurable surprise came from the boy as he started to buck his hips with the man's manual strokes.

Meanwhile, Quentin was released for air and pulled up standing. Millson had wrapped the boy in a bear hug and was kissing him the way adults do. Hunter could see the man's tongue go into Quentin's mouth and Quentin's tongue go into the man's. This was so strange, but it mad his tummy all numb. He knew this was those dirty things his parents always warned him about, but it was so awesome to watch. He noticed Leroy had also pressed against the dark boy, his hands were rubbing between the older kid's butt. Instead of being grossed out by that, Hunter was further excited.

The ten year old was so intent on watching the man-boy sex show that he didn't notice Bailey guiding his little hand at first. It wasn't until he was matching the man's strokes subconsciously, did the boy realize he was holding his boss' dick. It was just like his, both soft and hard at the same time. But much much bigger. He couldn't even touch his fingers to his thumb it was that big. But he kept stroking it like Bailey was doing to him, knowing it felt just as good to Bailey as it did to Hunter.

Leroy pushed Quentin's head down again, but not to his own cock. Instead, he placed the boy's mouth at the tip of Millson's hardened glands. Without invitation, the boy's lips opened and guided the hardened sex inside. Hunter felt himself grow weightless as he watched in rapt fascination. It wasn't until he felt the slightly scratchy hair on his back that he realized Bailey had lifted the boy on his lap. Now Hunter, at ten years old sat naked on the coarse pubic hair of an adult man he'd only just met. The man's erection was sticking up between the boy's slender legs. Without prompting, Hunter grasped that cock with both hands and began stroking as he watched the black teen suck on the Middle-Eastern cock, entranced.

He could hear Bailey's breathing become more labored behind him. He could feel the man's hairy stomach expanding and contracting against his back and ass. Hunter felt the man's prick grow ruggedly hard in his little hands before it suddenly pulsed. Surprised, Hunter looked down, breaking his eye-contact on the lurid scene of the teen's sexual abuse. A cloud of white expanded from the thick cock in his hands. What the hell was that?

Grunting from the old man drew Hunter's attention again. There was so much new strangeness going on, the boy couldn't focus. But he saw the old man, holding the teenagers head, grunting and bucking his hips. Hunter knew what the man was doing in the kid's mouth. He wondered briefly what it tasted like, not knowing he's soon find out.

Will Hunter Parish please the entertainment execs enough to get a job? Is Augustus Juiles finished with young LeBoyd? What did Zachy get up to? Find out next time!

I pressed my big hand with its long fingers into the black kid's face and smeared my load around. I rubbed it into his cheeks and on his nose until the white cream had been absorbed by the ebony dermis.

The boy's nine year old fist was still lodged in my rectum, providing me with a delightful ache. I pulled his little hand out of me and immediately felt empty. As I sat down on him, pushing against his diaphragm, I felt his little boy stiffness poking my back. With a muse of inspiration, I stuck my fingers down his throat. He convulsed, gagging, but my hand came back doing with his spit. I smeared it on his throbbing little dick, ensuring the moistness.

With an eager ferocity, I jammed his little cock into my anus, feeling the thin tube open me slightly. Below me, LeBoyd gasped. I waited a moment, examining this new sensation. I'd never had a boy dick in me before. It was an odd sensation. It was almost like being fingered with just one digit, but softer and smoother. It didn't have any of the usual aches and stretches I usually associated with initial penetration, but it also didn't have much of the pleasure.

Still, I decided the little boy inside of me should have a bit of fun, so I started to gyrate on him, making sure to take care to not let the little member fall out.

Moans tickled my ear and I looked down at the lovely boy. His eyes were closed and his mouth open, relaxed. I couldn't help myself. I let a large gob of spit splatter into his open mouth. It landed on his tongue and he gasped in surprise. Then smiled an he swallowed. Slut.

I could feel his little prepubescent hard on prodding my middle-aged hole. The LBC (little black cock) started thrusting into my grinds. LeBoyd was starting to take control of his pleasure. I looked down at his shiny, sweaty face. His eyes were closed, his mouth upturned in a smile. He was in his own world, feeling the pleasure that many got from him. His moans were so young, but so determained.

I marveled at the feeling in my ass, the small body beween my thighs. It was an odd sensation for me. I never bottomed for a boy. Hell, I almost never bottomed at all, but there was something erotic about this. About forcing a boy to use you. Give them that sense of power. I was surprised, looking down between my legs at the euphoric boy below me. My own cock was as hard as ever, despite having just painted his face and mouth with my nut.

Soon, his thrusting became determined, pushing quicker and harder than before. His gasps became ragged. His moans became almost shrill. Then, with a final thrust, the most forceful yet, I felt his LBC throb against my sphincter, his dry cum trying to fill me.

His little muscles relaxed in the afterglow. The biggest shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he looked up into my lustful eyes.

"That was 3; That was 3;," LeBoyd said between gasps, "so amazing!" It was a genuine feeling, and it caused my dick to swell even harder.

I pulled off of the LBC, hearing the slap of his softening boy dick hit his groin. My lust was unabated, so wordlessly I turned him over. He was still in his afterglow, but he knew what was about to happen. "Again?" he asked, with only a hint of exasperation. Even though he was prepubescent, his lust was abated, and he was done. But he also knew his place as a Hollywood Boy. He was only done when I was.

So I lined up my leaking prick. I spread his dark cheeks and marveled at the variance of a sight I could not get enough of: the head of my prick masking, completely, a little boy's anus. Then pushing, only using my natural lube, I could see the preteen hole allow me in, if reluctantly. This was associated with a gutteral moan from the boy, so high pitched, so bravely trying to sound pleasurable and not painful, but failing so obviously. But the best part was the feeling. The warm glove that pushed around my dick. At first, the nine-year-old anus was pushed into the boy, not really relenting. It let my head in, but that's all. Then when it couldn't hold back any longer, it relaxed, allowing me to slide all the way in.

He moaned in a pleasure-pain as his sphincter struggled to stretch to my girth, while my prick slid against his immature boy button. I moaned as my penis was engulfed in the warmth, the tightness of the boy's rectum. I felt his inside walls rubbing against my sex, my pre coating them, preparing them for the abuse.

"Yeah, baby boy," I began my dirty talk as I bottomed out in the preteen's bottom, "You like feeling me in you you skank?"

LeBoyd moaned assent, knowing his role whether it was true or not. He was good, so I hoped he would be able to covinicingly play to my kink. I wasn't disappointed.

"I'm not wearing a condom," I told him, pretending it wasn't obvious. I'd let deceptiveness slide into my voice.

"Wh-what?" the boy said, realizing the role he was to play.

"That's right boy," I sneered as I pulled most of my prick out. Pushing in firmly, I continued, "And I can smell your heat, boy. I know you're ripe. I'm going to seed your cunt and knock you up. You're going to have my baby."

To his credit, he didn't even hesitate. He started to struggle, to pull away from me. "No. No, I'm too young a boy. I'm not ready. Please 3; Ungh." I'd wrapped my arms around his shoulders, trapping the boy to me, preventing his escape as I thrust into his well fucked, but still tight hole.

"Yeah, I'm going to knock you up, bitch boy, and there is nothing you can do about it." But he still tried.

***

As Mr. Juiles 'impregnated' little LeBoyd, they didn't notice the man carrying a younger white boy in his arms walk by their open door. Eight-year-old Zachy struggled playfully in the grip of the very large middle-aged man. Zachy's back was against the man's chest. He could feel the coarse, wiry hair tickling his neck and shoulders above the hem of his lycra wrestling singlet. His special-made lycra wrestling singlet. The coarse hair made his little diddly a solid 2½ inches [6 cm]. Or maybe it was the large man's hand that was holding him there.

The man's other arm was wrapped between Zachy's smooth chest and his round jaw, pushing firmly, but gently against his neck. Even if he wanted to, Zachy wouldn't have been able to escape. Especially since the man had a fat digit lodged in the little boy's tight rectum. Zachy didn't know who this man was. He didn't even know what he looked like, but he was still proud he'd attracted the attention of someone who wanted him.

As the boy-carrying-man walked into the bedroom, Zachy felt a softness on his jawline surrounded by more scratchy hair. The man's lips started sucking at his skin. He could feel the soft, wet tongue tasting his face, and he moaned seductively, just as his older sister taght him. All the eight-year-old seducer could seeas the man stumbled them deeper through the room was a softly lit, twin-sized bed with Ninja Turtles sheets. He didn't see the fat man with a big nose and large chin pull his softening prick out of the anus of the gasping red-hedded boy in the next bed over. Instead, he saw the Ninja Turtles sheets rush to his face as the man dropped himself and the boy onto the matress.

"Oof," the wind was knocked out of him. He realized, now, that the stranger was much bigger than he'd thought, as the full weight of the man crushed him to the firm mattress below. The man slid his hand, that had until now been simpultaneously cupping the boy's lycra-covered nads while fingering the prepubescent sphincter, up the boy's thigh to his knee, forcing his leg up and his prone stance wide. Zachy could feel a large bulge against his opened crack, rubbing. But then it, and the weight of the man were gone. Zachy turned over to have a look at his latest conquest, and was very pleased with what he saw.

A man, dark haired, middle-aged, bearded and 3; huge. Fat, girthy, muscly, all of the above. His arms and legs and chest bulged with muscles, but were clearly under a thick layer of fat. His dark hair grizzled around his face in a beard. The hair continued, though, along his burly arms, sticking out from his pits and curling up through his tight cotton tank top through the head and arm holes. His high end sweatpants hung loosely off his hips, but his thick, but disappointingly soft cock bulged obviously at his front.

Zachy gulped, unable to remove his eyes from the not-so-mysterious lump behind the cotton.

"That's way to big." He was starting to rethink his strategy. A deep rumble broke his trance. He looked up into the stranger's face and saw him grinning. Zachy blushed. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Trust me, boy. I'll make it fit." Zachy started to shrink back, but stopped himself. It wouldn't do any good. And he was using the man just like the man was using him.

"You wanna wrestly, boy?" It wasn't really a question. But the false agency and the chance for a little game gave Zachy the needed distraction. He smiled at the man and nodded assent.

"Good, but we won't be playing to pin," The stranger explained, taking a step closer to the bed and the boy. "Whoever gets a finger inside the other's ass, to the second knuckle three times, wins." He smiled.

"That's no fair, you still have pants on," Zachy protested, letting his competitiveness seep out.

The large man held out his arms to his side. "Fix it."

So Zachy reached out and pulled the sweats down. The man's cock lay a heavy but limp four inches under a managed, but still hairy pubic bush and on top of very large balls that dangled with a clear weight. The man's foreskin completely covered his glands, but a shine of pre ejaculate gleamed from the budded end. A musk wafted up Zachy's nose, causing his two and a half inch nail to throb and his tight sphincter to flex in anticipation.

The man stepped out of the pile at his feet and crawled onto the bed over the boy. As the man filled his vision, Zachy realized just what a size difference there was. Just how massive the man was. They stared in eachother's eyes: small, diminutive prepubescent child in an assless wrestler singlet and hairy giant of a man, in just a grey, form fitting tank top.

"Go!" The man whispered and dropped, tackling and smothering the eight-year-old child. Zachy fought for breath between the soft, pectorals that mashedd against the side of his face as the man slipped his massive bear paws under him, searching for the win. The boy pushed and prodded, trying to get free, but they both knew what was inevitable. Zachy felt himself open up to the man's proping index. He didn't really try to stop the man.

"One point for me," came the husky voice, as the man pulled out and sat back. Zachy noticed his dick had started to harden and the tip of his glands were exposed. Before the man could react, Zachy dove forward and slapped the dangling balls, then slipped his finger up the hairy adult anus as the man knelt, stunned.

"You play dirty, boy," He said, a hint of threat in his voice. But his cock was even harder and bigger. With one hand, he grabbed Zachy by the hair and forced him to the mattress. Zachy's legs flew up in a fetal, protective position, and he felt the finger again.

"Its two-one, now."

Zachy was panting slightly, and tried his same trick again, but the man was ready He pushed the boy's outstretched hand away and slapped his exposed buns. He could have finished the match, but clearly he wanted to toy. As Zachy leaned back, definsively to protect his precious hole from a loss, the man spun around on all fours, exposing his hairy ass. It was a trap, Zachy knew it, but he also knew he wouldn't get many opportunities. With lightning speed, he pushed off of the wall and flew at the man's exposed hole. His middle and index finger stiffened, pierced the man's rectum before he could react. A suprised grunt was all, Zachy heard before the anus clamped on his fingers and spun around, taking the boy with it.

The man's sphincter relaxed and Zachy slipped free and rolled away just as the man pounced, missing him. Zachy jumped on the back of the man's head and scrambled down his back as the man tried to stop him and grab him. But the eight-year-old was too fast and too competitive. Before either man or boy knew it, the boy had his two fingers lodged in the man's ass.

"I win! I win!" The boy shouted, while prodding the man's prostate. "What do I win?"

The man turned, looking annoyed. "I don't know, you decide," He waved his hand dissmissively. At first Zachy thought the stranger was talking to him, but then he followed the giant's gesture. In a bed across the room, crouched the fat man, a French director Zachy recognized as Rafael Le'Strata. The man was on all fours and the red-haired crown peaked from between the man's massive ass crack. There was a ginger boy face first, probably tongueing the old fat bastard's asshole.

"Le weiner," the director said above the lapping sounds of his boy, "Gets the loser's cock in his ass!" His eyes peirced the boy, making it clear he was going to watch.

Zachy turned his gaze back to his wrestling parner. The man's dick throbbed a hard 8.5 inches and as thick as the boy's forearm.

"But it's so big. I 3; I can't."

"You don't need to," the man grabbed Zachy's arm and pushed him face first into the mattress. Zachy took a deep breath as he felt the wad of spit splatter against his terrified hole. Then he felt the tip and he pushed his face hard into the sheets.

And the man pushed, hard. Zachy's trained eight-year-old sphincter struggled and stretched as the man's meat slipped inside. Zachy felt the ache of the push, the hot, sharp pain of the stretch and cried silently in the sheet. The man slid in and in and in. It seemed like forever, and then 3; balls. Zachy felt like his stomach was stretched out. That was how deep the stranger was. Then the fucking began. The man thrust in and out of the boy. As he expected, Zachy's body quickly became accoustumed to the man as he pistoned in and out. Pretty soon, the boy was pushing back, enjoying the sex inside of him. He grunted. The man grunted. He pushed. The man thrusted.

Over and over Zachy felt the hairy scrotum slap against his smooth taint. Over and over, he felt the girth stretch him as he was entered. Over and over, he felt the man's glans smash against the end of his rectum. And then the thrusting became more forceful.

"Are you gonna fill me with your seed, Mister?" The boy said.

The man grunted, thrusting completely a final time and the boy felt his rectum fill even more, as the man's semen gushed into him. The man collapsed, spent, but still inside of the boy.

"Damn, kid. You're one good fuck. You wanna shoot a movie?"

Zachy smiled, "First, I want to shoot in you."

Chapter 6

The black teen pulled his mouth off the fat old writer's dick. Hunter watched him, noticing a strand of white stuck to the other boy's lips. Was that the same gunk that came out of Mr. Bailey's penis?

That reminded him. He looked down into the water at his lap. The white cloud was dissipating as he held the director's deflating penis. There was so much newness going on that Hunter's drug and alcohol addled mind was having trouble making sense of.

"You can let go of me, boy," came the relaxed, almost amused, voice from behind him. Slowly, almost reluctantly, the ten-year-old released the sated adult's cock and watched it float lazily in the water between his legs.

Mr. Millson stood up, pushing Quentin away from him, "That's enough. Save it for our new star here," his smile, directed at Hunter, wasn't entirely pleasant. Still, referring him as a star bolstered the preteen and made his chest swell in pride. But there was trepidation, too. Was Hunter expected to put Mr. Millson's penis in his mouth like Quentin? Hunter thought so. To his surprise, he wasn't entirely put off by that idea.

Mr. Millson stepped out of the pool and motioned at Hunter. "Come, boy. Attend me." His voice boomed dramatically and playfully. Hunter stood up, becoming distinctly aware of his nakedness. He put his hands in front of himself, despite the cavalier way everyone else handled the group nudity. The child was surprised to feel his own dicky poking his hand. He was still hard like the men had been.

Hunter walked up the steps out of the pool, fully aware and thoroughly embarrassed by the stares of his companions. He walked up to the hairy giant of a man, still dripping. Mr. Millson spread his arms wide. "Dry me off, boy."

Hunter hid his annoyance as best he could as he grabbed a plush towel from the rack. What a menial task. Are they trying to make him some sort of slave? But he knew these men had the power over him to make him do just about anything they wanted. At least until he became a star. So he steeled himself and plastered a believable-looking smile on his face and started to rub down the middle-aged producer.

***

Bailey watched the preteen as he dried Millson. The dripping boy rubbed the towel along the man's dark, hairy legs. The patted the man's furry belly and chest, purposely avoiding the producer's large shaft and round, muscly ass.

Bailey admired the smooth fitness of the boy's young, glistening wet body. He would have liked to have taken the boy, but it was Millson's turn. Still, the boy had given him and almost expert level hand job just minutes ago. He started to swell at the memory.

Hunter stood back, eying the big, now mostly dry, man. Bailey sat back and watched, but decided to prod a bit. "Hunter, boy. It looks like you missed some spots." Millson responded by holding out his arms and thrusting his hips, dangling cock and all, toward the ten-year-old boy.

Bailey recognized Hunter's slight hesitation. The man had seen it many times before. He watched the child's decision point, knowing that this was the most important test to nab the little boy. The hesitation was only a second before Hunter's toweled hand reached out and gently patted the older man's large genitals dry. Hunter had his head down, cheeks burning in shame. Millson put his forefinger under the preeteen's chin and tilted the boy's head up. The pair locked eyes as the young boy held the man's roiling testicles in his little hands.

Millson let the grooming go in a bit longer then necessary. His gaze locked the child's obedience. Slowly, the man turned, implicitly ordering Hunter to dry his rear. Hunter hid his bashfulness when he pushed the towel against Millson's firm ass cheeks. He rubbed gently, almost lovingly. Bailey arched his eyebrows in mild surprise when the boy pushed the towel between the man's cheeks on his own volition. Most children needed to be guided. But Hunter seemed to instinctively know his next step. Millson pushed back and ground a bit on the towel in the boy's hand eliciting a small giggle from the boy. Bailey squinted at the couple. The boy was displaying a very uncommon intimacy towards the man.

When Millson turned back around to face the dripping wet kid again, he recognized the emotional attachment the boy had given him. He, too, was caught off guard, but then he smiled wickedly and Bailey knew that Millson was sure Hunter was his.

Millson took the towel from the ten year old, making sure to identify the proper spot. Then he not-so-gently dried the child's face, rubbing his own ass and crotch musk in the child's hair and eyes and nose, and even on his lips. When he moved the towel down the boy's body, instead of the expected revulsion, Bailey saw an unusual look in the child's eyes. Almost as if he was bewitched.

Millson saw this too and quickly dried the rest of the young body before him, paying no special time or attention to the boy's little bits.

Once the boy was dry, too, the man took his small hand in his large meaty one and led him off towards the private guest house. Bailey watched with jealousy at the two firm buttocks, one small and bubbly, one large and muscular, as they exited out of his sight.

***

Hunter's heart pounded in his chest as he walked naked through the lawn, hand-in-hand with the 62 year old bald giant. He was nervous being alone with this man he barely knew. But he was irresistibly drawn to him. He wanted nothing more than to be close to Mr. Millson and make him happy. But Hunter didn't know why he felt this way. He was inexplicably attracted to this man. His physical form. His influence. His wealth. His power. When Hunter smelled the man's stench on the towel, something deep in his brain tripped and he found himself unable to find any fault in the older man. Even when he tried.

As the naked man led the naked child through the grass, the boy could not keep his eyes off of the man. He stumbled once, but Mr. Millson carelessly helped the boy back to his feet and hurried him between the large bushes and trees of Mr. Bailey's back yard. Then the grass turned to concrete and the two stopped before a glass door. Without hesitation, Mr. Millson opened the door and stepped through, pulling the breathless boy along with him.

Lights flicked on and Hunter looked around the room. There was a bed, covered in velvety red sheets. But there were also strange contraptions, too. Padded benches of various shapes, mazes of ropes strung around each other, odd swings, and several closed cabinets. There was even a wired grated area on one part of the floor. Next to the bed and on walls in several locations, Hunter noticed soap dispensers like the ones you see in public restrooms.

But Mr. Millson ignored all that. He dragged the befuddled child to the bed and tossed him roughly onto the mattress. Hunter landed with an unexpected thump. The mattress was one of the firmest he had ever felt. And he noticed something else as Mr. Millson climbed eagerly onto the bed with him. The red sheets weren't velvet, but a super soft crimson leather.

Mr. Millson was staring hardly at Hunter when he turned his attention back to the large man. "You are so perfect, boy."

Hunter blushed nervously, knowing he was about to do more sex stuff. "I think you look good, too," the boy said, half truthfully.

"Oh you do, do you?"

Hunter nodded and smiled weakly as the man moved over him, crowding him to the mattress, trapping him. The ten year old was looking up at the sixty-two year old when the man leaned over him and softly put his lips to the boy's. They were scratchy, both from the stubble and from dryness. But then they parted and something pushed against Hunter's mouth. The man pushed his slimy tongue into Hunter. Hunter tasted this man above him and moaned without realising it. He pushed his slim, smooth body against the thick hairy one.

Mr. Millson slipped his hand around the boy's back and pulled the preteen to him, feeling the child along his stomach and chest as he allowed his saliva to drool into the kid's mouth. Hunter didn't balk. He didn't eve seem to mind. In fact, he started sucking on the older man's tongue, instinctively trying to please.

The man spun the two around so now he was under the boy. But this also gave him more access to his plaything. His hand slipped below, rubbing the child's lower cheeks. He teased himself by running his fingers along the edge of the boy's cleft. But then he was jolted when soft, small fingers slipped around his hardening shaft. Mr. Millson broke the kiss momentarily to whisper "Good, boy," to his bitch. That's clearly what this child wanted to be. Mr. Millson's bitch.

With that realization, Mr. Millson dropped all pretense to be gentle, and decided to take the boy how he truly wanted him.

With one hand, he held the boy's head tightly to his face. With his other hand, Mr. Millson pried apart the boy's smooth butt cheeks. Without warning he viciously shoved two thick dry fingers into the boy's relaxed hole. Instantly he felt the ten year old pucker squeeze at his invading digits, so he pushed harder, feeling the boy's warmth envelope his fingers. The boy groaned painfully. Bit there was something else in that groan. Pleasure? Mr. Millson pulled his face back and looked into the child's eyes. They were indeed dilated with pleasure.

"You like that, my little bitch boy?" Mr. Millson teased as he hardened completely in his boy's hands.

Hunter, for his part looked humiliated and ashamed. But also incredibly turned on as his little boy dick stood out as hard as Mr. Millson's. "Uh-huh," he replied in embarrassment as he ground his ass on Mr. Millson's fingers.

"Aah-ahh," the boy whined when Mr. Millson pushed his fingers apart, stretching the virgin open.

Mr. Millson removed himself from the child and pushed the kid down so he was laying on his back.

Hunter looked up at the man. A confusing cacophony of emotions ran through his mind, his penis, and his little asshole. He had no idea what those feelings were, but they drove him to thoughts and pleasures he knew were wrong, but that he couldn't stop himself from pursuing.

Mr. Millson above him leered evily. He brought his hand back and slapped Hunter's face hard. Tears sprang to Hunter's eyes. As the man brought his hand back again, Hunter cried out, "No, stop!"

Mr. Millson looked down at the boy, his face a mess. Drenched with his own and the man's spit, tears running down his cheeks, both red, but one swelling, Mr. Millson saw the vulnerability and reared back in guilt. But only for a moment. His erection, and the boy's controlled him. He looked at the adorable, sloppy, abused face, and then down at the rock hard boy. Hunter didn't want him to stop. Mr. Millson didn't want to stop. His guilt evaporated.

The sixty-two year old beefcake leaned over the tiny prepubescent child and crawled over him. He sat down hard on the boy's diaphram eliciting a violent gasp from the small bitch under him. He leaned down, putting his face directly in front of the boy's.

"What do you want?" He asked.

The boy looked terrified and confused. And horny. "I...I...I want you to sto..." he hesitated as the lie almost left his mouth. Then he started over, "I want you to hurt me." He gasped with the last of his breath. Then his head snapped around as the man's palm struck a second time.

Mr. Millson lifted off the messed up ten year old. Hunter gasped in air, his chest shuddered as it rose, filling with air. His eyes were red-rimmed and he stared at the big man above him. He was such a good boy.

Hunter was so confused. He felt like his body was betraying him. His cheeks hurt. His lungs burned. He should be trying to run away, but he just wanted more. He looked over the solid chest of his man,dripping in perspiration. Dripping on him. He tried to hold back a moan, but he knew he failed. The man smiled down at him, then sat back. Hunter hunched forward at the feeling. A warmth, a tightness engulfed his rigid little member.

But how? Then he realized. His penis was up Mr. Millson's asshole. Like many things this strange night, instead of horrifying and grossing out Hunter, this excited him even more. The bitch boy gasped as incredible feelings shot through his groin. Mr. Millson was grinding back and forth against him, riding the young penis, giving it pleasure.

Hunter leaned his head back and gasped as the pleasure overtook him. Then he gargled as the man wrapped his strong fingers around the boy's throat. Hunter looked up desperately as the man squeezed. He tried to talk, but the pressure on his neck only made him grumble incoherently. The man was bouncing on him hard and the hand on his throat made him feel helpless. Then a dull ache started to throb from his groin. The steel butt cheeks of Hunter's captor were slamming closed at every grind, squeezing the immature testes.

The pain, the pleasure, the pressure.

"Aaahhhh," screamed the boy through the closed fist around his neck as his penis throbbed inside the man.

Mr. Millson released the child's throat, admiring the hand print he left. Hunter lay back in the afterglow, completely relaxed.

But not for long. It was Mr. Millson's turn.

Hunter's recuperation was rudely interrupted when a wad of his hair was gripped tightly in Mr. Millson's hand and the boy was yanked up. Mr. Millson rolled onto his back, the child's head of hair still firmly in his grip. With his free hand, the man reached out ad twisted one of the little nips on the ten year old's chest, eliciting a pleasing squeak.

The man pushed Hunter's small head down until the boy's lips brushed the man's throbbing, dripping glands. Having watched a couple blow jobs here minutes ago, Hunter knew what was expected of him. Despite being somewhat "spent", Hunter was still inexplicably eager to make this man happy and do what he wanted. Show business wasn't even in the child's thoughts.

The little tongue took an exploratory lap, but before he could evaluate the new flavors and sensations of the man's penis, the hand on his head impaled the child's mouth on the adult prick. His jaw was forced open and his tongue was smashed down as a spray of salty pre splattered the back of his throat.

The hand on his head guided him up and down on the thick cock, the precum coating it mixed with the ten year old's spit to lubricate the mouthfuck.

Mr. Millson marveled at the pleasure on his cock. Hunter wasn't great at giving head, of course, but the domination of a willing, virgin, boy was roiling him up like no boy had ever done before. It was a new experience for him and one he knew he would be taking full advantage of in the future.

Hunter lay sideways from the man, prone on his stomach. This gave Mr. Millson great access as the child's inexpertly bobbed on his dick. He put his free hand softly on the boy's buttocks, rubbing and squeezing roughly, enjoying the smooth elasticity of the mound, and the protesting groans from the mouth on his cock.

He though about spanking it, but decided to hold that for another time. Instead, Mr. Millson once again worked his fingers into the ten year old crack, finding the tight sphincter of his little bitch boy. He started to rub the smooth taut ring, pressing teasingly, but inspiration struck and he changed his tactic. His hand reached a little farther until he found a wrinkled coin purse of a young scrotum and the sensitive, vulnerable testicles inside.

With a quick flick he caused the little boy to shudder in pain. Then a light slap made the boy squirm away. But that wouldn't do, so a squeeze had the bitch under control, squirming when desired, calm, but trembling in anticipation when desired.

While the eroticism grew, Mr. Millson became annoyed because his bitch boy had stopped his rhythm. Mr. Millson was close. Too close. The lust blinded him to move past barriers he wouldn't normally. He squeezed. Hard. Hunter jumped and cried out, struggling to get away, but the hand on the back of his head wouldn't let him move.

Instead, it pushed hard, forcing the boy's mouth down the man's aching shaft. Mr. Millson felt the resistance. The entrance to Hunter's throat. But he kept pushing and -pop!- his dick head pushed down the child's throat.

Uncontrollably, Hunter began to gag around the invading, suffocating penis. The boy's body convulsed, his throat massaging Mr. Millson's dick in a desperate attempt to expel it. Mr. Millson groaned, thrusting his hips, forcing himself deeper into the child's no longer innocent throat. As he squeezed the tiny marbles mercilessly, he felt his own testicles tighten. With a roar, he ejaculated his seed into the tiny abused throat, coating it with his essence and DNA.

It seemed like his orgasm lasted forever, but when he was finally finished, he was quick to pull out. With a wet slurp, the boy drew in a desperate breath.

***

Mr. Millson looked down at the sleeping face laying on his thigh. A pearl goo pooled under the boy's mouth.

This kid wasn't made for Hollywood, Mr. Millson decided. He was made to be a porn star!

Hunter's eyes flicked reluctantly open as a small moan escaped his lips. His lips and tongue smacked against each other as his consciousness tasted the salty sour flavor of hours-old cum in his mouth. The flavor immediately brought back the night's drunken memories to the ten-year-old.

He tried to lurch up, but his cheek pulled against something. A deep grunt sounded in Hunter's ears. He stopped and took a moment to analyze his limited view. An olive-colored mound peppered with a thick snarl of black hair sat under the boy's face. It filled half his vision and rose and fell rhythmically.

Mr. Millson! Hunter remembered. The penis. The squirting. The anus. The slapping. The crushing.

His brow furrowed in worry. What had he done? His heart raced in fear and worry. He knew it had been sex stuff. Gay sex stuff. And he knew he was bad to do it. But when the memories came back, he knew his little penis grew hard and he knew what that meant. He knew some of the feeling in his stomach were good, and he knew that was bad.

But among this cacophony of emotion, Hunter also identified confusion. Where was Mr. Juiles? How would the boy get home? An even more urgent feeling interrupted these worries. His bladder was full. He had to go pee.

Hunter carefully peeled his cheek from the slumbering stomach below him. He looked down at the sleeping giant of a man. His firm bulky hairy body. His soft, but still massive noodle lay limp above a pair of large goofball-sized testes.

For a moment, Hunter stared longingly at the man. Not just at the intimidating maleness, but at his hairy chest, so powerful. His bearded face, so handsome. His strong hands, so abusive. But the young boy's face fell once again on the sleeping man's ample package. Hunter didn't even realize he was smacking his lips as his mouth watered. His preteen homosexual biology was just starting to bud into hormonal sexuality.

And his hormones were taking control away from his sense of decency, propriety, and self respect. He leaned his crusty face towards the man's hairy scrotum. His inhalation was deep and the wafts of Mr. Millson's middle-aged musk, so salty and nutty, filled the preteen's olfactories causing the boy to swoon involuntarily. He stumbled back light-headed and his legs tripped on a padded bench causing him to tumble to the floor.

The spell was broken. Hunter got up. Took one more look at the Arab to make sure he was still asleep, and ran quickly to the door, his feet pattering against the cold floor. He fumbled at the knob, his human brain overpowering his primal lizard brain. Terror at his lustful feelings, his desires filled his emotional core. The ten-year-old finally managed the door handle and stumbled out of the out building into the grassy yard bright with the early morning sun.

He ran as fast as he could. Only a few steps before he stumbled breathlessly to his knees. The panic had built. Had almost taken over. He fell forward to his hands and took deep breaths, feeling himself calm.

Soon, the boy was relaxed enough to stand. Hunter looked around him at the immaculate yard, feeling the bright morning sun warm his naked loins. His mind had been so wild for the last few minutes that it crashed. Hunter let go of his worries, his despairs, his lusts and just closed his eyes and felt the sun beating on him like a comforting blanket, warming him. He relished the smooth warmth on his little hairless genitals.

His penis.

His eyes shot open as he remembered. His bladder. Full. Hunter quickly ran to the main house. He jogged past the new empty spa but slowed to look for his clothes. They weren't where he remembered leaving them and a surge in his groin reminded him of his mission. He almost decided to pee in the pool, but considering his desires for stardom, decided not to.

So he continued his search. Hunter didn't remember seeing the bathroom last night, but he was so busy and so nervous. There was a hallway past the main room with the dance floor. Hunter remembered seeing several men and boys go down their last night. There was probably a bathroom there.

As he walked through the hallway, he peeked through each doorway he passed. Curiously there were no actual doors, but inside them were tangls of naked boys and men sleeping. Hunter wondered if he was the only one up. In one room, he recognized Zachy, laying between the legs of a giant bear of a man. The younger boy's head was nestled against the man's taint, boy-blond-hair mixing with man-black-curls. The man's giant balls sat on the eiight-year-old's forehead. A surge of jealousy grew in Hunter's chest, but he moved on continuing his search.

Hunter was almost to the end of the hall when he ran smack into a smaller body rushing out of the room he was passing. The two stumbled apart and Hunter saw it was a younger boy, probably six, maybe seven, with short carrot-red hair and freckles all over his body. Hunter looked at him all over, always curious and yes - the little boy's hard penis was just as freckled as his smooth body.

"Please," the boy moaned in a whisper, "I need to cum. Suck me off and I'll do you, too."

Hunter almost refused, his bladder burning, but the red-head stepped up to him. He was much shorter, his head didn't even reach Hunter's chin. But Hunter sensed someting. An odor. A man's odor on the boy. His brain did the same flip it did when he woke up. Hunter pushed his nose in the boy's face. Smelling a familiar scent of man musk, but it was different than Mr. Millson's. But still intoxicating, and mind-controlling. Hunter smelled down the boy, then stuck his tongue out to tase the smooth skin, and the dried salty man sweat. He licked down the boy's chest, enjoying the taste without realizing it. But the boy was single visioned and wasn't keen on wasting any time. His little hands gripped the hair on the sides of Hunter's head and pulled him down.

Hunter allowed this, still bewitched by the musk that seemed to be all over the red-head. Soon he was in front of the hard dappled little nail and smooth pubes. Without hesitation, he engulfed the little thing and started bobbing on it, trying to mimic what he'd done to Mr. Millson's dick. But apparently this little boy liked things a little different.

"Just suck on it like a lollypop, Baby," He instructed, holding Hunter's head still. Hunter felt wierd being called 'Baby' by this little kid, but did as instructed curling his tongue around the smooth little pecker and sucking rather than bobbing. He hadn't had time to really exerience Mr. Millson's dick, but he could feel red-head's fully. All the ridges and smoothness as Hunter's tongue slid against it. After mere moments of Hunter's fellating, he could hear the boy breathing harder and his little dickie became really really hard. His grip on Hunter's head tightened and he started to thrust deeply into the older boy's mouth.

"Ang nggn neee," the boy whined above Hunter, then became suddenly quiet before pulling his now limp noodle out.

Hunter stood up, looking at the boy. He was relaxed, his face flush behind his freckles and his eyes were closed. Then he look at Hunter and gave him a devious grin.

"Thanks, Baby," he stepped up to Hunter, "I needed that. Do you want me to do it to you?" His little hand found Hunter's inches, hard, to Hunter's surprise.

"Actually, I really need to pee." Hunter said desperately. The red-headed boy looked a little queasy all of a sudden and his smile went away.

"Do you know where the restroom is?"

The boy relaxed and smiled again, "Sure, it's the last door over there."

He wasn't even finished taking before Hunter was running to the bathroom. He didn't even close the door as he stepped up to the toilet. His dick was still hard and he had trouble pointing it down, so he leaned forward a little and finally, relaxed.

The stream shot out of him and forcefully splattered against the porceline bowl. His erection faded as the pressure lessened and he sighed in releif. But then his dick started to rise again. It detected something. Hunter couldn't stop his urination, so soon he was splattering on thr rim of the toilet.

"What ees 'dis?" Hunter looked around and saw a fat man standing naked at the door. He dragged the red-headed boy with him as he took a few steps into the bathroom. Then he pushed the little boy towards the shower and walked up to the still peeing Hunter.

"You are missing de target, boy. I help." And he stepped behind peeing Hunter and pushed his large belly against the boy's back, wrapping his arms around the preteen. Hunter felt the soft hand grab his hard urinating penis and start to point it downward. Hunter got a wiff of the man's scent and he smelled exactly like the little red-headed boy. No question now who's sweat Hunter had been licking. I happened again, but he expected it now. The familiar light-headedness and arousal. Hunter leaned his ten-year-old head back against the flabby chest of his molester and breathed in deeply, moaning.

The man behind Hunter grunted in reaction and started stroking the boy's penis. His stream had weakened, but still flowed. He could feel the man's dick enlarge and harden against his butt, then it slipped in between his cheeks. Hunter didn't know why, but he pushed his butt back against the man's cock as his stream dribbled to a stop.

Tbe fat man moved his hands to Hunter's hips and guided him gently over to ther red-head standing in the shower stall. The man ordered the preteens to kneel before him. They obeyed. Hunter found imself face-to-prick with the man's short but fat erection. Without any encouragement, Hunter pressed his face into the man's package, taking in his scent, tasting his sweat. He mouthed the side of the man's penis and could see the red-head mirroring him. Their lips couldn't quite touch around the ample shaft, but they both worked to bring the man pleasure. Hunter was first to put the man's penis in his mouth. He wanted to, so he opened as wide as he could and wedged the girth in. He could taste the satly pre, the sweaty skin on this tongue. He started to suck like he had with the red-head, but found the cock in his mouth was too big to allow his tongue to suction.

But this wasn't what the man wanted. With disappointment, Hunter felt the dick leave his mouth. Wordlessly, the man handled the children below him, pushing their faces together. Both boys knew what the man wanted them to do. Hunter felt the soft lips of the red-head touch his own. Then he felt the soft wet tongue pushing against his lips. Then he felt something else entirely. Something completely unexpected.

A warm splatter his his cheek. Then it moved up and over. Hunter opened his eyes to see the yellow liquid streaming down the red-headed boy's unhappy face. Then the smell of urine hit him. The man was peeing on him! On them! Hunter was grossed out, but dared not try to stop. Besides, the other boy was tolerating it, too. He felt the hot pee splatter back on him as the man guided his stream all over the boy's body. Finally, the thick penis pointed at the boys' lips and Hunter could taste the foulness that filled his nose.

A large hand had Hunter by the head. Was pulling him away from the other boy. Was turning his head to face the pee. Was pulling his lips to the source of the stream.

Hunter clamped his lips tight as he felt the man's stream meet his closed lips. Then a finger was in his mouth, between his teeth, prying his jaw open. As quick as a snap, the penis was shoved in his mouth and Hunter felt the fat man peeing on his tongue. This was too much. Hunter gagged and doubled over, the pee in his mouth splattering on the shower floor.

Hunter, on his hands and knees could still feel the man going on him. On his back. In his hair. He felt the warmth saturate his head before streaming down his cheeks onto the floor. The man kneeled down in front of him and rested his cock on the back of Hunter's head. The flow stopped.

The man's sack hung low against Hunter's forehead. The musk waften into Hunter's nose overpowering the revolting smell of urine. The man was rubbing Hunter's wet back. Then his wet butt.

"AAhg," Hunter cried out as a fat digit pushed inside his little sphincter.

"My, My, leetle boy," the fat man was saying as his finger pushed and twisted inside Hunter, "You are a tight one, hehe. Are you a virgin?"

Hunter winced at the pain in his anus. "What do you mean?" he could still smell the sourness of the man's pee and the intoxicating aromoa of his balls. The boy could feel the man's five inches of fat meat throb on th back of his wet head.

"Hehehe," The man laughed, "I guess so." He pushed his finger in farther and...

"Oh!" Hunter exclaimed at the surprise pleasure. His sphincter was still sore, but an intense, odd pleasure filled his groin, throbbing from the end of his erect boydick to the rim of his stretched sphincter. The man prodded again, harder, and the odd pleasure was that much more intense.

"Oh, mmm," the boy moaned.

"If you like thees, you'll enjoy thees," The fat man lifted his cock off Hunter's head and slaped it against the boy's soft cheek. Hunter, as if driven by instinct, leaned his opened mouth towards the thick member, but the man briskly pulled it away.

"No no no," The man said and stood up and walked around the kneeling boy, keeping his finger firmly lodged. Once behind the preteen virgin, he pulled his finger free and quickly pushed the tip of his naked dick against the tight boypuss.

Hunter knew what the man was going to do and couldn't beleive it. If a little finger hurt that bad, a fat cock would hurt even worse. He started to pull away, but the man gripped his hip firmly with one hand while guiding his dick with the other. Hunter felt the pressure. It became painful as it increased. the man was trying to force his cock in the unwilling ten-year-old, but the young virgin sphicter was resistant. Hunter was clenching as hard as he could while he struggled fruitlessly to get away. But the pressure started to receed as a dull pain coupled with a terrifying stretch grew. The man's hard penis was starting to breach little Hunter.

"Le'Strata!"

Suddenly the pressure vanishes and the stretching ends as the man jerks away. Hunter looks over and sees Mr. Juiles standing in the doorway, naked looking very angry. "You know the rules Rafael."

For his part the fat man, Rafael Le'Strata, looked somewhat abashed. "But Amitie, I did not know he was untouch. My apologies profusely."

It was clear Mr. Juiles didn't beleive the lie, but he didn't challenge the French director, "Well, go play with your little toy," he indicated the almost forgotten red headed boy, "I need to clean Hunter up before I take him home."

The unhappy man and equally unhappy little boy left the child talent agent and child talent alone in the bathroom. Hunter started to get to his feet, but Mr. Juiles stopped him. "Stay like that, boy." He got behind the ten-year-old and Hunter felt the now familiar feeling of a finger probing his little boyhole. "Good, it doesn't feel like he got very far in."

The probe exited, but Hunter felt something else familiar. A warm splatter streamed against his anus. Hunter shuddered as he felt the disgusting liquid drip down his crack and off his tight hairless balls. He felt the man's pee move up his back, then suddenly stop. A hand on his shoulder guided Hunter into a kneeling position. He looked up at the wirey man at the soft penis pinched closed in the man's fingers. He watched as the fingers relaxed and the man's urethra opened to a jet of yellow that splattered hotly against Hunter's forehead.

Hunter's stomach churned and he drew away, but seemingly out of nowhere a hand was gripping his hair, holding his face in the yellow stinky stream. He felt the pressure against his closed eyelids and on his cheeks. Then it was on his lips. "Open your mouth wide," came a commanding voice. Hunter didn't even think of disobeying despite his revulsion. It was only natural.

As soon as his lips parted and his jaws separated as wide as they could, Hunter tasted the foulness as it streamed into his mouth, onto his tongue, and dribbled down his chin and chest. It tasted worse than the fat man's.

The urination quickly diminished and stopped. Hunter's head was free and he leaned over and spat out the man's pee. He could still tate it on his tongue. Smell it in his nose and he was disgusted with himself. He looked up and Mr. Juiles was crouched down next to him, smiling. "You did very good this weekend. You are going to be a huge star!" And he hugged the naked boy. Hunter was surprised, but the ache and disgust in his stomach were replaced by pride and joy at the compliment. He hugged the naked man back.

"Now let's get you cleaned up and take you home.

***

Miles Millson walked up to Brendan Bailey, tying a short robe around himself. Bailey was watching Mr. Juiles walk a freshly washed Hunter to his car, hand in hand.

"What do you think, Miles," the younger producer asked.

Miles watched as the man dress the boy, then throw on some casual clothes himself. "He's a good actor, and clearly takes direction well."

"He's cute as fuck," Brendan observed.

"Cute enough to fuck," Miles agreed. "And I think he can be made to be a star. But I also want him."

Brendan looked at his friend, "I thought you might. There's more money in a Hollywood star."

"Yes, but it's so hard to find a good, willing, beautiful actor. He'll make a fortune either way."

Brandon looked away towards the car driving off. "Yes, either way. Or both."

Miles glanced over, "What are you thinking, Brendan?"

"Brunch?"

Mr. Parish watched as his ten-year-old son twirled his spaghetti lazily around his fork. The boy's head was leaned against his propped up hand. Hunter had been unusually quiet since the talent agent, Mr. Juiles dropped him off from that worrisome overnight party.

Mr. Parish looked at his wife whose brow was furrowed in worry. He knew what she was thinking. She'd revealed her fears to him shortly after the gave him over to Mr. Juiles' custody the night before. He assured her Hunter would be fine. Sure they knew there was going to be some drugs and alcohol, but this was a Hollywood party and everyone participated. Hell, to calm their nerves, the Parishes had broken onto their own special cookies stash.

But she was worried that someone might take sexual advantage of her only child. Her son. Her baby. Mr. Parish had reassured her that this was ridiculous, that he wasn't going to a Catholic Mass, just a networking party. But he secretly, too, shared that worry that his child who looked so much like himself as a child, had entered the lions den to be cheap meat for the Hollywood elite.

Now that Hunter was back, the father's fears had increased. Hunter was so introspective and so quiet, he knew something had happened. He pictured the worst in his mind: his ten-year-old son hanging naked in a filthy gay sex swing while a gang of disgusting diseased perverts raped him all night. The thought made his heart seize and his anger seethe.

But he did his best to hide it, so as not to panic his son or distress his fragile wife. But he needed to know.

After dinner, Mr. Parish put his wife to bed with a generous glass of red wine to help her sleep. Every time she looked at Hunter, she almost broke down. Thank God Hunter was too distracted to notice.

Hunter was also in bed when Mr. Parish went to check on him. But he wasn't asleep. He sat up, staring off into space.

"Hey, Bud," Mr. Parish said as he sat on the edge of Hunter's bed, "How you doing? You've barely said a word all day." He was trying to be casual and hoped it didn't sound too forced.

"I've just had a lot on my mind," his son said, snapping focus to him as if breaking a trance.

"Tell me," Mr. Parish said gently, "Maybe I can help."

It looked like his boy was going to lie to him, but said, "It just- it just wasn't what I was expecting."

Mr. Parish's paternal instincts kicked into high gear. "Did they hurt you?" He tried to keep the fury out of his voice, but knew he failed.

Hunter didn't notice, though. "No. It was just weird. The other kids were acting like adults and everyone was drinking and laughing and 3;" but then Hunter stopped talking and looked at his dad. "Things don't always happen like you expect, do they?"

Mr. Parish was caught off guard by the rush of words that came out of his son's lips. He swallowed hard to give himself time to organize his thoughts and decide what to say. "No," he finally answered his son, "they almost never do. If they did something bad to you," he continued trying to pry abuse out of his son, "you need to tell me."

"They didn't hurt me, Dad." The boy snapped back.

Mr. Parish stared at his son, not really believing him.

"It's just 3; there's a lot more about show business than I thought. That's all."

"Son 3;" Mr. Parish began but Hunter interrupted.

"I have school tomorrow, I should get some sleep."

Mr. Parish took the hint and left his son in the dark room alone, going to bed with dark thoughts in his head.

***

It seemed like forever, but Hunter finally succumbed to sleep. But it wasn't a peaceful sleep.

Giant erect penises kept slapping his face, jutting in his stomach, knocking him over. He scrambled up and realized he was naked. He ran.

He was running down a plain white hall. Like in a hospital. Bright. But it was if he was standing in place. He ran faster, but didn't move.

He turned. The hall looks the same that way. He turned again and again. Finally he pushed through a doorway.

Suddenly he was on a large mound. Dotting the pale tan mound were scraggly protrusions, like dried plant trunks with no branches or leaves. But they were much darker. He looked up the mound. Then back behind him. The mound fell away into darkness so he climbed.

The ground wasn't soil, but some spongy material. It made it hard to climb, but not impossible. He used the odd protrusions as hand holds to pull himself higher. As he neared the top, Hunter found the grade of the slope lessened and he was able to run so he did. He sprinted through the forest of dark branches brambles that curled around each other. They looked really familiar, but Hunter couldn't place it.

Hunter finally rounded the top and looked across a crevasse to see an identical mound. He slowed. Something about this seemed so familiar. It nagged him as he strolled forward staring at the second mound.

Suddenly, a musky odor hit him in the face. It was so strong he staggered as if physically struck. The odor was coming from the crevasse separating the two hills. His naked legs trembled and a wave of vertigo crashed over him.

The naked preteen was helpless as he fell forward. End over end he tumbled into the crevasse. The scraggly protrusions grew thicker. The protrusions from the other mound curled into those from his mound. But they didn't stop his fall. He flew through them as the smell, somehow familiar, grew stronger.

The he saw the bottom. The mounds came together at a crease. In the middle of that crease was a ringed line. Hunter landed on that line and found it soft. Hunter pushed his hands at the sides of the two mounds to push himself to his feet. He found them moist and warm. The smell was now overpowering. He looked down at the line and gasped, recognizing it.

A sphincter. An anus. A butt hole.

He was standing on a butt hole. He closed his mouth tight to hold his breath, knowing he should be disgusted. But that smell didn't seem to be ass or poo or farts. But it was recognizable. Nutty and salty. Like balls.

His chest burned and he had to gasp air and musk in. His mouth filled with the flavor. It tasted just like Mr. Millson's scrotum. He gasped desperate for air, filling his lungs, his nose, his mouth with Millson scrotum pheromones.

Below his feet trembled. He looked down and saw his feet disappearing inside the giant asshole. He reached out and scrambled his hands against the butt crack walls. But the smooth muscle around his ankles pulled him in. The heat rose up his legs. The tightness. The preteen struggled to get out, but his calves disappeared inside the giant orifice. Then his knees and thighs. When his little boy balls and erect penis were swallowed, Hunter moaned. The painful pleasure squeezing his parts distraceted him momentarily from his plight. But when the moist heat got to his belly he gasped, his breath being forced from him. His hands were still slipping, trying to push him out, but failing. One hand slipped and enterd the giant hole. Then the other and Hunter knew he was truly helpless.

But still he fought. He squirmed trying to wriggle out. He was engulfed in ass up to his nipples when a wet glob soaked his head. He shook his head at the viscous goo and looked up. A giant penis was bearing down on the struggling boy trapped in the giant anus. The cock leaked clear pre dripping on the boy's upturned face, covering it, pooling around him. The massive penis aproached, then was pushing firmly against the little boy's head. Hunter could feel the pressure against his head, down his spine. The penis forecd the boy quicker into the hungry ass. Soon, the pool of pre was flowing into the boy's mouth. He felt the sphincter muscles at his neck, choking him. Then they were at his chin. He tried to turn his head up to keep his nose and mouth in the air, but the cock was there pushing against his face.

And he was falling again. Tumbling into infinite darkness.

Something plush stopped him. He was laying on his back. He opened his eyes and smiled. Between his legs, Hunter saw the hairy dark torso of Mr. Millson, kneeling and naked. Erect.

Hunter watched as the man's hairy knuckles cuffed his slender smooth ankles. He relaxed and let the man spread and lift his legs open. Mr. Millson walked on his knees to the boy's invitation. The man's hairy core filled Hunter's vision, framed by his white slender legs, with only his boy erection interrupting the dark maleness of the man.

Hunter felt the pressure against his tight asshole. It was the same pressure that fat man, Le'Strata, had made him feel. But this time, the pressure didn't stop. Mr. Millson's prick pushed in, the pressure increased, then relaxed as Hunter's sphincter relenteted and swallowed the adult penis hole.

The boy saw stars as waves of electric pleasure eminating from his dialated anus. Once he took a moment to recover, Hunter looked down at the body between his legs. The hairly bulk that was taking him. He saw his own hard boydick lost in a forest of pubic hair.

Then the man leaned over him. Hunter's face rubbed in the hairy chest hair. And the man started pumping. Started fucking. Hunter felt every curve, every ridge, every bump, every vein of the man inside him. Every thurst sent sparks through his young body as his sexuality was forcefully, but willingly, awakened. As the man ground into his anal canal, his own penis was grinding against the man. The pleasure waves throbbing from his hole were so strong, Hunter didn't even feel his own maleness aching for pleasure.

The man's thrusting suddenly increased and Hunter could feel the prick inside him throb. With each throb, the dick grew, and Hunter felt the jets fill him. He felt his stomach bulge as the man's seed sprayed gallons up his ass. Hunter could feel the seed flow through him, his own boyish pleasure seeping along with the predosexual sperm. It left his ass and worked its way to his belly, filling him with a warm, bubbly feeling. Then worked to his front and Hunter felt the pleasure coalese in his tiny penis. He felt the jism force its way up through his urethra and he was cumming. Ejaculating. Hunter's penis spewed jets of white man cream.

***

The ten-year-old boy moaned as the dream left him. He didn't realize it, but a smile was plastered on his face. His eyes opened to the bright morning sun. Memories of the dream hadn't faded, but reality quickly grew in. Hunter's eyes shot wide. He sat up in bed, throwing the covers from his sweaty boy body, looking down at his crotch. There was a small damp spot. Had he actually had his first wet dream? About Mr. Millson?

***

Mr. Parish watched his Hunter walk up to the school. He frowned, recognizing a more sedate boy than normal. He knew he had to do something to help him, but didn't know what. But he knew who he should go to to start.

***

Augustus Juiles sipped his bourbon delicately in the bright mid-morning Hollywood sun as he watched the twins. Ashton and Zoey Manson posed for the final few shots for the teen-bop magazine. The two child stars were dressed in revealing but trendy bathing suits and really knew how to work the camera. He smiled as he watched them, but was interrupted by his phone.

Mr. Juiles almost didn't answer, but knew Charlie wouldn't let the call through unless it was important. Sighing, he tapped the screen. "What?"

"Sorry to disturb you, sir," came Charlie's delicate voice through the handset, "Mr. Parish, Hunter's daddy, is on the line and he seems angry."

Mr. Juiles sighed again as Zoey leaned over in front of her twin brother. This shit again. Ashton was pulling down his sister's bikini, revealing her anus, then her bald snatch. The photographer had switched to his other camera. The one for the teen-fuck magazine.

"Hello, this is Augustus Juiles."

"Mr. Juiles, this is Hunter Parish's father. I was hoping for a few minutes of your time." Zoey had her brother's hair in her hand and was pulling his face into her fourteen-year-old pussy. Even from this distance, Mr. Juiles could see the sheen of her juices on his face.

"Of course, Mr. Parish. What's on your mind?"

The voice on the other end hesitated. "I want to know what happened to Hunter at Brendan Bailey's." The photographer was pulling off Ashton's trunks, revealing the metsl chastity cage confining the boy's cock.

"Oh, we just talked and worked through some lines. And, of course, a few actor's exercises." Mr. Juiles lied and let concern slip into his voice. "Why? Is everything okay with Hunter?"

"Well 3; he's been acting strange. Withdrawn."

"Ah, say no more. I know exactly what you mean. Hunter is overwhelmed. One thing we talked about over breakfast yesterday was what it meant to be famous. He is probably struggling with what that means for him." There was silence on the other end and Mr. Juiles gazed over at the brother and sister's insestuous sex. She was now lounging on a deck chair and he was between her legs, still eating her out. Her head was thrown back and the photographer circled.

"Tell you what," Mr. Juiles said as if suddenly coming up with an idea, "I have a councelor on call. I'll have Charlie set up an appointment with her and Hunter. What time is he out of school?"

Releif flooded Mr. Parish's voice. "Thank you. He's done at 2:40. Where should I take him?"

"Oh, I'll just have Charlie drive him. I'll also have him call you back with Dr. Mandy's info. So you can do your due dilligence."

Mr. Juiles hung up just as thirty-three year old woman walked up to him naked. Her tan body was flawless. Her boobs perfect. Completely fake. She was six months pregnant with Mr. Juile's baby boy. It took them three abotions, but finally, he was getting his own heir. The twins had stopped and looked over at the adults disapprovingly. Mr. Juiles smiled at them as he entered their mother.

Hunter bounced his knee nervously as he sat in the waiting room. He felt his father's soft hand patted his arm in comfort. Butterflies warred in his stomach as he looked at the calming pictures on the beige walls.

"Dr. Mandy is ready for you Hunter," the young assistant said, poking his head in the room.

Hunter started in surprise at the interruption to his dread. He stood up, trying to control his shaking legs. He didn't hear his father stand with him, but knew he had.

Father and son followed the assistant down the hall to an open office.

"Help yourselves to some refreshments and have a seat," the assistant said with a smile. "The doctor will be in in a couple of minutes." And the door closed.

Hunter‘s dad poured a cup of water and offered it to his son, but the ten-year-old refused. So he sat down and sipped lightly.

Hunter couldn't understand how he could be so relaxed.

After what seemed like forever, the door opened and a kind-looking middle aged woman strode in. She smiled at Hunter and offered her hand, "I'm Dr. Mandy and you must be Hunter Parish." He nodded, trying to give a friendly smile but failing. "Welcome."

"Mr. Parish," the doctor turned to Hunter's dad and shook his hand as well before sitting down across for the pair.

"I understand the Hunter is going to be a major star!" Hunter blushed at the compliment, "Augustus has given me glowing reviews of your acting ability." Her demeanor was almost fake in its cheerfulness.

"Maybe," Mr. Parish said firmly, "but my wife and I see a very negative change in Hunter since he 3; met Mr. Bailey."

The initial session was actually fairly short and not at all like Hunter feared. He had worried they'd hypnotize him or something, but they just talked. In the end, they agreed to a session every week for Hunter alone, and a semi-weekly session with just his parents, so they can learn to adjust to the fame their son will receive.

***

The next session, or maybe it was the first real session, was the very next day after school. Hunter, once again, sat alone in the office waiting for Dr. Mandy.

She walked in and sat behind her desk, not in the lounge chair she had the day before. She looked through a folder on her desk while Hunter waited.

Finally, she glanced up at him and said roughly, "I know this is new to you, but you need to understand one thing: you are the property of Hollywood now, understand?"

Hunter's ten-year-old mouth fell open in surprise at her coarseness. He shook his head honestly not understanding.

Dr. Mandy sighed and said bored, as if well-practiced, "That means you do what your told. No matter what. If a director wants you to kiss his ass, you pucker those pretty little lips and plant them on his hairy rose bud. If a producer wants you to suck his cock, you open wide and make sure to swallow."

Hunter sat back and stared at her, unbelieving of what she said.

"I-" he began, but Dr. Mandy was standing up and walking over to him.

She leaned down, her face in his. "You selfish little brats think you can just saunter into this town, show your pretty little faces, and get everything for nothing. Bullshit. You have to pay for it. Work for it." And she walked out the room.

Hunter sat stunned. He didn't know what to do. He was about to get up, but the door opened and Dr. Mandy came in with what looked like a large photo album.

She pushed the album into Hunter's arms and sat back down at her desk, studying him.

"Look at it," she said.

Hunter stared at the beige album cover for a few moments, unsure if he wanted to open it. He turned the cover, feeling the psychiatrist's gaze on him.

The first page showed a photo. A little boy's naked butt filled the page, small, dangling balls snug tightly below a smooth tight anus. Hunter's stomach sank and worry filled him as he flipped the page. Hunter stared at an image of himself on his knees looking into the camera.

Tears walked in his eyes. These were from the private photo shoot Mr. Juiles took. He'd promised they'd be kept private, but now Hunter realized they'd been kept for blackmail.

The preteen started to close the album, but Dr. Mandy stopped him. "Keep going, Hunter."

He looked up at her. Through his blurring tears, he could see her smirk, twisting her mouth. He glanced down, ashamed she knew this secret. Not so secret, apparently. He turned the page. Again and again. More images of him.

Hunter kicked himself mentally. It had only been a few days, but he was so damn naive! What had he been thinking? But he knew. Fame. Fortune.

He turned page after page, not even really looking at his 3; porn 3; anymore.

"You see, my dear boy," Dr. Mandy said, standing, "You are already owned."

She walked around the desk and stood in front of the boy who had paused his browsing. He looked up at her when she gripped his chin, nails digging sharply into his jaw.

"You have a choice. You can accept and maybe even enjoy it," she flipped to another page. Hunter looked at the smiling cum-covered face of a younger Charlie, Mr. Juiles' cute assistant. The boy, probably 13 or 14 in the photo had a relaxed, blissful look on his face. Despite himself, Hunter felt his little boyhood harden.

"Or, you can resist," she turned to another boy's photos. Corey Lee. Hunter knee about him as he saw the unhappy boy in his undressed state, a man's erection nestled in his frowning mouth. After his parents and sister died in a freak boating accident, Corey Lee disappeared. "And face the consequences." Dr. Mandy turned the page and Hunter saw a chained, naked, pale and bruised Corey Lee. Between his legs was a scar. No testicles. No penis. He looked miserable. Almost dead.

"What will it be?"

Hunter felt numb.

***

Charlie looked up as Dr. Mandy shuffles Hunter into the lobby. She sees him and grins a wide toothy smile, "Charles, my dear," she walks over and they embrace in a friendly hug, "It truly has been too long." As she pulls back, her hand drags down his chest. Charlie suppresses a shudder. He never liked this woman, ever since she "counseled" him as a young teen.

"Yes. I'm here to pick Hunter up and take him home."

Hunter has his head down and doesn't notice Charlie at first. But when he hard his name his head shot up and his gloomy expression brightened noticeably.

"H-Hi, Charlie," he said hesitantly, blushing. Charlie smiled at the cute boy.

"Hey, Cutey. How 'bout you wait here while I fill out some forms for you and then we can take you home, okay?"

Hunter looked at the older teen strangely, but nodded and went to stand by the door. Dr. Mandy led Charlie to her office.

As soon as the door closed, the therapist pushed down her skirt, revealing her erect penis. Charlie sighed inwardly as he got on his knees before the shemale and engulfed her not-very-lady-like prick.

***

Hunter pressed the back of his head against the wall and let a couple of tears squeeze out between his lids. Is this what he really wanted? Was it worth it? But there was a voice deep his his head that told him this 3; sex stuff was a perk. It was fun. But it was dirty and awful and bad. But Charlie was so handsome and those pictures of him Dr. Mandy showed him were so exciting.

And what about those other pictures? What would happen to Hunter's mom and dad if he didn't behave? What would happen to Hunter? A fear like he'd never felt before sunk in his belly and he cupped his shriveled little dick and balls gently, protectively.

But then Charlie was walking towards him. "Let's go."

They sped down the avenue, both silent for a while, lost in their own thoughts. Charlie looked that the boy in his passenger seat. Looked at his eyes, his lips. His rising and falling chest underneath the cotton shirt. Then Hunter spoke.

"She showed me your pictures," he said suddenly.

"What pictures?"

"The ones of you covered in 3; cum."

"Oh."

"It looked like you liked it."

"I did. And I still do."

"Are you 3; gay?"

"Yes. Are you?"bro

Hunter didn't answer but fell silent again. Charlie felt his erection tighten his pants. He looked at the boy again. Damn, he was a hottie. Suddenly, he made a decision and veered a quick left at the last minute, driving onto an old access road to the top of a hill overlooking the city. The sky blazed orange in the sunset as Charlie stopped the car.

"What are you doing?" Hunter asked his cheeks flushing.

"Helping you," Charlie leaned towards the ten year old and pressed his lips against the boy's. He felt Hunter immediately relax and slip his little tongue into the teen's mouth. Charlie sucked it it, enjoying the spongy muscle, the taste of the boy's mouth.

He pulled back, just barely enough for their lips to part and looked squarely into the ten-year-old's eyes.

"What do you want?" The teen asked seriously.

"I 3; I 3; I want 3; I don't know." Hunter's cheeks were flushed and he felt hot as he tried to and sense of his emotions.

"Do you want me to take off my shirt, Hunter?"

The boy nodded silently. His eyes were wide as he watched Charlie slowly pull off his tee. The boy looked at the teen's lean build, his rounded pecs, his thin, taught belly, the dark hairs around his navel trailing downward.

Charlie smiled inwardly as he watched the boy ogle his bare top. But he kept his face neutral. He wanted Hunter to come to his own realization. "Do you want to take off your shirt, too?"

Again, Hunter silently nodded. But he didn't make a move so Charlie reached over and started to tug off the boy's tee. Like a young child, Hunter lifted his arms in aid, and soon he was as topless as the teen. Charlie eyes the boy just like Hunter had eyed him. But the boy was smooth, his muscles juvenile, undefined, and soft. Charlie found himself drawn forward, his tongue swiped the boy's brown, nubby, dime-sized nipple.

"Do you want me to keep doing this?" And he latched his lips over the ten-year-old's little nip and started sucking it between his teeth. Charlie grasped the nub lightly in his teeth and toyed with the rubbery flesh with his tongue.

"Yesss," the boy sighed out, barely audible and wrapped his arms around the older teens head, holding him in place.

But Charlie wasn't content to suckle the boy nipple for long. He started to sensually kiss down the boy's chest to his belly, loving the feeling of the child's heavily breathing diaphragm. But he continued downward, cupping Hunter's package. The boy was hard, which pleased the teen. He unsnapped the boy's pants, then stopped to look up at Hunter's face. Hunter was looking down at him and nodded to the unasked question.

"I want you to do that."

Charlie opened the boy's fly and pushed down his undies to reveal the hairless, three inch [7 cm], uncut boy cock.

"You want me to do what?" Charlie teased his lover, making sure to enunciate his words so his breath tickled the boy's penis. It throbbed in response.

"Suck it. Suck my cock!" The boy shouted, "I'll do you, too!" And he felt the warmth, the moisture, the suction.

***

As Hunter writhed in the sensations of his boyhood's fellatio, another car pulled onto the bluff unseen by the distracted young lovers.

Horus Angolus, a balding, fat, Mexican film producer turned to the thirteen-year-old white boy sitting uncomfortably in the passenger seat of his Ferrari. The man's sweat-stained wife beater matched his unshaven jowls and sweaty, mustachioed face.

He wiped his hand across his brow, smearing his drips, then reached over to cup the young teen's chin. The blond boy shuddered as he felt the clammy, slick hands on his soft skin. The producer used his thumb to play with the boy's lips, prying open his mouth, then slipping the sweaty hairy digit into the small, revolted mouth.

The perverted adult smiled at the child, then pulled out his large, dripping unwashed cock and grabbed the boy by the back of his neck and pushed him down. A tear ran down the boy's cheek as he opened his lips, knowing the cost of being a child-actor in Hollywood.

***

Charlie's fingers played with the ten-year-old's hair as Hunter's head bobbed up and down on the teen's prick. He leaned back and sighed. "Suck a little harder 3; mmm 3; that's it. Your fucking amazing, Hunter."

He knew the boy was struggling with his immature but budding sexuality and remembered what it was like when he had to face his own homosexuality. It helped to have men encourage it.

"You're making me feel so good." The boy seemed buoyed by the compliments and sucked harder and bobbed more enthusiastically.

***

Horus looked down at the suckling boy. The child wasn't doing a very good job. Horus sighed. But he was damn horny. He finally pulled the boy off, looking at his frowning face. This stupid kid needed to learn to act.

Horus pushed the thirteen-year-old onto the passenger side of the bench seat and quickly pulled the boy's pants down, exposing his anus. His dick thronged looking at the thing he was about to defile. The smooth roundness. The tight little red hole.

"NO!" The teen shouted when he realized what the powerful, fat producer was going to do to him. He surprised Horus when he kicked out.

***

Hunter's mind had become clear. His mouth open, the thick, hard-yet-soft filling his oral cavity. He loved it. He was a gay. And he loved being a gay. Charlie's hand was pressing him to go down farther, so he did, feeling the ridge of the teenager's dick head pop through his mouth and into his throat.

It caused him to gag, but he was determined. Instead of backing off, he went down father until his lips met pubic flesh. "Oh, God, Hunter, yeah. Deep throat me, baby."

Hunter started swallowing, massaging the dick with his throat. He felt Charlie's hand push under the back of his pants. The finger started to rub his cherry. He wiggled his hips back, encouraging, and the fingertip pushed inside. Hunter clenched and when he did, Charlie's cock throbbed. So he clenched on the finger again. And got the same response along with a involuntary moan. A pride swelled in his chest.

***

"You fucking cunt!" Horus held his face where the boy's foot had connected. The sweaty old man went to hit the teen, but the boy was already out of the car. Grumbling, Horus grabbed a small satchel and rushed out of the cab. He ran after the teen. The boy's pants were still down, trapping his thighs. He hadn't gotten far when Horus caught up and gave a mighty push, sprawling the boy on the dusty ground.

Horus quickly sat on the boy, trapping him so he couldn't move. He was facing the boy's feet and admired the screaming kid's taught round ass. He pulled the thirteen-year-old boy cheeks open to get a nice view of the cherry pucker. With remorse, he pulled the needle from the satchel. He would have been a great fuck, but since he was resistant, he would be worth more unspoiled.

***

Charlie is in bliss as the ten-year-old mouth serviced him. His finger is teasing and being teased, but he knows what he is restricted from. He rolls his head over and sees Horus Angolus pulling a needle out of the butt of a young man. The kid goes instantly limp and Horus drags him back to his car. He then looks over and sees Charlie. Shit.

The teen watched as the Mexican producer waddled over to his car, his dick still lodged in the sucking throat of ten-year-old Hunter. "Hey, Honey." Charlie said smiling as he rolled down the window. Hunter tried to pull off to see what was going on, but Charlie held his head tight.

Horus's dark eyes scanned the perverted scene inside the car before leaning down and placing a deep kiss on Charlie's lips. Charlie enjoyed the spiciness of the kiss, but when the man pulled back, his face dripped in Horus's sweat.

"I'm sorry to do this to you, hijo, but my date left me with blue balls, so I'm going to need yours."

"He belongs to-"

"It doesn't matter. I'll smooth it over." He leaned into the window and grabbed Hunter by the hair, slowly pulling him off Charlie's dick. Charlie let the powerful man take charge. He wasn't in a position to stop him.

Hunter stared wide-eyed at the fat sweaty man holding his hair. A couple of drops splattered on his face. Anxiety wound his tummy again, but the fat sweaty man didn't give him a chance to protest. He tossed Hunter over the seat into the back of the sedan then quickly got in. "You won't disappoint me, will you, chico?"

Hunter didn't really understand. He shook his head and squeaked out, "I don't want to-" He was about to protest but the man interrupted him.

"You won't." And he pushed his pants down his thighs, revealing his thick uncut brown cock. "Take off your pants."

Hunter shook his head, but then the familiar-yet-different scent spun his head. He found himself moving without thinking, pushing his pants and underwear down his smooth, creamy thighs. The fat Mexican smiled before peeling off his wife beater, sticky with sweat.

Hunter looked at the man, his mind was suspicious of the bulky body, dark hair matted stickily to skin. But his dick throbbed at the bulky body and dark matted hair.

Horus lay down, pulling Hunter on top of him. Hunter felt the wiry chest hairs against his cheeks and the man's arms pressing him into his body. Hunter looked up at the man's balding head and mustachioed face. Inside his mind he was crying, but he couldn't help himself. He slid his way down the fat, dark middle-aged belly until his face was above the engorged, hooded cock.

The male scent was strong. Hunter knew what would happen. Knew what was happening. As the musky male pheromones entered the gay preteen's nostrils, they activated the child's olfactory sensors. These sensors were connected directly to the boy's budding sexuality, a sexuality desperate for pleasure. Desperate to please. Desperate to serve.

Hunter didn't even realize his initiative. He just found the moist soft scrotal skin cushioning his face. The pheromones were stronger. Hunter heard himself moan with each inhale, whimper with each exhale. He was ashamed. But unable to stop. And incredibly excited.

Then he had another internal conflict. Horus had his hair tight in his grip, pulling Hunter up. But Hunter was so desperate to stay in the man's balls. Obey, or sniff. That was the conflict.

Obey won out. The ten-year-old allowed his head to be manipulated until his lips were rubbing against the moist, dripping helmet of the man's uncut cock. Hunter lay the middle of his tongue against the desperate urethra, tasting the man's pre as it dribbled out. Until the man pushed and Hunter felt the jab at the back of his throat, forcing him to gag on the adult.

***

Meanwhile, Charlie paced nervously between the two cars. On one end, a cute, passed out naked teen. On the other, Hunter with aa mouthful of Horus Angolus. He checked his watch and looked down the road. Please make it in time. He felt so helpless, but Horus Angolus scared him.

***

Hunter felt the man pulling at his arm, but he doesn't want to stop, to take the hardness out of his mouth. But the man is persistent. He pulls harder, saying, "Come now, little cock slut. You'll like this." So Hunter relents. Reluctantly.

The man pulls the boy up his body onto his fat belly before rotating the boy around. Hunter slides easily on the man's perspiration. His head is back in the man's groin and he happily slips the flesh into his mouth. In this position, his nose hovers just above the man's full, swampy testicles. The source of the musk that seems to control the boy. His moan is loud, lustful, and involuntary. Hunter inhales deeply as he sucks on the knob is his mouth.

On either side of the boy's head, the man's soft thighs part and lift up as Horus puts his feet on the door, giving him leverage. He holds Hunter's little boy head in place and thrusts deeply down the little boy's throat. In his prone position on his belly, Hunter is able to welcome the thrusting penis fully and easily down his immature gullet.

The man stops his face fucking for a moment and Hunter feels a warmth on his balls.

***

Horus swipes his slimy tongue around the white boy's marble balls. The skin is so smooth, so hairless. He loves boy testes of all types, but his favorite are like this boy's. Hunter's balls are small, but his scrotum is loose. It mean Horus has a lot of skin to play with, to suck on, and to roll the testes inside of.

He sucks a mouthful of preteen scrotum into his mouth, then tightens his lips to suck the little nuts in. His lips hold them back, but with enough suction, the man forces the boy's testes into his drooling mouth one by one. He feels the boy's body tense at the pain, but the boy doesn't complain. What a prize!

As Horus rolls the little beads in his mouth, he starts thrusting deep into the boy's throat again. He then pushes the boy's perfect, round cheeks apart to gaze at the tight sphincter within. The cherry will be his to burst.

He lets the boy's sack fall from his mouth and leans his head forward. The boy squirms and giggles around the adult cock as Horus' mustache tickles his delicate crack. The man's dripping tongue takes an eager full swipe at the lips of Hunter's hole. The clean, soft taste of boy ass eggs Horus into full analingus mode. His tongue stiffen and prods forward. Hunter's anus is tight as if withholding entry. But Horus is skilled, his tongue strong. He doesn't take his time as he forces the sphincter open and he probes for the tiny, tasty button.

His tongue pushes along the soft walls of the tiny anus until he feels the bump. There! He slaps it hard and watches as Hunter jumps, visibly surprised at the sensation. He slaps the boy's prostate again, pleased to hear the boy's gurgling moan.

While he enjoys pleasing boys to the point that they are putty in his hands willing to do anything he wants, Horus is displeased when the boy pulls off of his prick.

***

Hunter's mind was gone. He was unable to think. He was on auto pilot. On instinct. His body filled with immature boy testosterone, a warmth sensation that bleeds from his anus. He slis down the sweaty man's body. A body that should revile him but instead, a body that he can't get enough of.

He feels the man's roiling, sperm-filled balls on the nape of his neck as he leans over and kisses the hairy, salty lips of the middle aged anus of the man below him. He smiles to himself as he hears Horus gasp in surprise and spread his legs farther apart to give access and permission.

Hunter begins his feast. His tongue prodded into the middle aged hole, coating it in boy saliva. He tried his best to mimic what Horus was doing to him, but without seeing, he could only guess. He was surprised at how clean the man's sweaty asshole was. It tasted like sweaty skin, just like the man's prick.

But really, Hunter could only feel the incredible sensations in and around his butt. What's more, he felt the strongest desire for more. He couldn't help himself.

He pushed himself off of Horus's wide bulk. The man grunted a complaint that Hunter ignored as he positioned himself. He squatted awkwardly above the man's hips and looked Horus in the eyes.

Horus nodded and grabbed the boy's smooth hips, aligning his prepubescent cherry with his aching erection. "You want me inside you, nino?" He asked.

Hunter felt the shame well up inside his tummy as he felt the Mexican prick head against his little pucker. He nodded as tears welled in his eyes.

Horus, either oblivious or uncaring about the boy's internal struggle, smiled and Hunter felt the pressure simultaneously on his hips and against his sphincter. He felt himself open. Being forced open. He took a deep breath as his anal nerves were pleasured.

And then he felt it all ripped away as the world spun.

***

"What the fuck are you doing Horus?" A furious Augustus Juiles shouted. He'd arrived just in time and pulled his little money-making starlet off the disgusting pervert before he was ruined.

Horus started to shout back at him, his brown, sweat-sheened face turning a dark purple as he struggled to sit his fat ass up.

"Shut up you stupid beaner shit," Mr. Juiles said, pressing a loafer against the Mexican producer's balls threatening. "You aren't shit here."

The man quieted, but the hatred in his eyes didn't quell.

"You stupid gringo can't leave me blue-balled. You know why I am here. Who I am working with."

Slowly, the talent agent removed his foot, clenching his teeth. Hollywood nobility was so hard to navigate at time. He tried to work out a solution quickly before things got out of hand.

Behind Mr. Juiles, naked Hunter was being helped up by a concerned Charlie who preened over the boy. Mr. Juiles noticed Horus' eyes swivel towards the naked minors.

"Charlie, take off your pants." Mr. Juiles instructed.

The teen looked at his boss and lover, his eyes wide with fear and disbelief.

"Do it."

Charlie flinched as if struck, then looked at the fat Horus, trying to keep the bile down.

"Bu-but I'm not on PrEP."

Hours looked at the seventeen-year-old with disappointment, but said, "I have a zero viral load. Get over here and let's get this over with."

Neither one was happy with the situation. The pedophile because his fuck was going to be way too old for him, the teen because of the disgusting diseased cock that was going to be in his ass.

Hunter stood nearby, his senses coming back as he watched his friend walk over to the man, push down his pants and lean over, making his well-used anus accessible to the other man.

Horus waddled his naked flabby body behind Charlie and, gripping his cock, lined up for entry. Hunter watched as Charlie grimaced and cried out as his anus was stretched wide by the adult-youth sodomy.

Horus started to buck back and forth as slaps and fwaps filled the air. His breathing quickened and he started wheezing at the exertion. He looked over at Hunter and his back straightened and his humping became more powerful and regular. He smiled at the kid who knew he was in the man's imagination.

Hunter looked at Charlie and saw the anguish in his face. He knew this sacrifice was for him, but didn't fully understand why. He did know he needed to help out somehow. He gazed at the man's flabby ass as it shook with each thrust. He stood still, deciding. Finally, he walked over to the pair fucking. Mr. Juiles watched silently curious as Hunter knelt down behind the man and pried open his flabby asscheeks.

***

Horus felt the little face wedge itself in his crevasse. He felt the lapping tongue on his hole. It drove him wild. He reached behind his back and grabbed the little slut's hair, holding him in his ass as he felt his orgasm approach. This experience was new, and something he would continue to play with. Having a young little tongue licking his anus as he fucked a tight little ass 3;

He shoved his cock into the teen one last time before his sperm gysered into the boy.

***

"C'mon Hunter, I'll take you home." Mr. Juiles led the boy to his car. Once the boy was belted in, he turned to the naked teen, sitting on the dusty ground, crying. He could sense the filth emanating from the teen. His attraction to Charlie had been waning over the last months as the boy matured. But now, he could barely bring himself to look at him. He was spoiled. Blighted.

"Charlie," he said coldly, "I expect you and your shit to be out of my house my the time I get home." He got in his car and drove off, deaf to the broken teen's wails. Hunter will be worth it. He was almost convinced.

***

Horus looked at Charlie then dialed the number. "He's a little old, but he doesn't need training. Yes. He's positive, or will be soon. Use him up quickly. Five grand is fair."

And he drove off.