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Sam had never been the kind of guy who needed a lot of things. It had turned out pretty well, actually, since he ended up having to sell most of his stuff anyway. It was actually pretty convenient since he just gotten used to having his things stolen from him. His girlfriend, Ruby, had pretty much broken the bank. They had found themselves inheriting a studio apartment on dodgy side of the bridge. Sam was pretty sure there had once been twelve people living there at one time. He had hazy, good natured memories of voices and hands on him, patting his back, ruffling his hair, reaching between his legs at ten in the morning, when everyone else was passed out. Yes, at the very least there had been Ash, a dealer, who would give him free samples if he let him watch Ruby fuck herself on his cock. She was always the most beautiful like that, dark and smoky and high as a kite. She always knew just what to say, “Oh, baby, it's just a bump. Everyone does it. You deserve it. It'll only last an hour, tops. Baby, you'll feel so good. Baby.” She liked it when he dragged his nails down her back. She was so strong, so tough for such a small, cocaine thin frame. She begged for it like a whore and took it like a savage. She was just like him. And when they were done, fucked beyond comprehension, she'd pull out a cap, draw out a fat line and they'd go again. They wouldn't fall asleep until six in the morning. One day, Sam slept through his alarm and didn't make it to work. He woke up next to Ruby, less sexy now, with her glitter eyeliner trailing to her mouth and her hair smelling like sweat and dirt. “Don't worry about it, baby. I do that all the time. You can't be their slave. It's just a job, baby. Let's smoke a bowl. Get your mind off it.” It was incredibly easy to sleep through the alarm the next morning as well. After a week, Sam just assumed he was fired. He didn't know for sure, since his cellphone disappeared the last time Ash threw a party. And so Sam stopped needing things primarily in a response to him not being able to buy things. He got good at shoplifting, so he was never hungry. He was beautiful, so he was never sober. But Ash had moved out, apparently, as Sam learned from an irritable Ruby that morning. Sam racked his brain for the last time he'd seen Ash. He was thinking it was three days ago, but that couldn't have been right. Ruby went to her job, a waitress at a strip club called Sinsations, where a good portion of her money went up her nose before it got to their apartment but Sam had never needed much. But without Ash to make up the difference, Sam set out to find a job because Ruby couldn't be relied on to share if things got scarce and Sam didn't want to think about where he'd be if he had to get clean cold turkey. He saw an ad on Craigslist. He'd never done anything like it before, but he wasn't exactly a prude. And it was offering more money than Sam had seen since his first paycheck out of law school. *** Sam didn't know what he was expecting when he finally walked up to the address he got from his terse email correspondence with [email protected], but a high end loft was certainly not it. The fear of him being murdered and chopped into bits deflated slightly. He rang the buzzer. There was a click where the person in the apartment held down the button for the speaker box and Sam waited for them to introduce themselves. When it didn't happen, he continued hurriedly, “Hi, it's... Sam. I'm here for the...” The door clicked unlocked and Sam let himself in. Sam took the wide, winding staircase to the fifth floor where he knocked on the only door on the level. The door opened, revealing an older man, probably somewhere between Dean and his Dad in age. He had chin length strawberry blonde hair that had the somewhat frizzy appearance of perhaps having its' owners fingers run through it often. He had striking topaz eyes, crinkled into smile lines a the edges. He looked crisp and clean and professional, in dark washed jeans and a white button shirt. Sam self-consciously tugged down the hem of his bleach stained hoodie.The guy looked Sam up and down clinically before ushering him into the room. It was a photography studio, and much more legitimate looking than he'd anticipated. There were three “sets,” each divided by plywood. One was clearly drawn out to look like a locker room, the other was a public restroom with a fake stall. Sam gulped as he saw a hole, about waist level, drilled into the side of the toilet cubicle. Finally was a bedroom scene, but clearly meant to resemble a dorm room with two twin beds against each fake wall and a series of sports posters tacked up as decoration. The man behind him picked up a camera and started pressing buttons on the screen. So he was the photographer, Sam guessed. He was alone with the photographer. He didn't know if that was safer or infinitely more dangerous. The photographer wasn't talking, and he moved to the small desk in the corner with three monitors and a thin layer of coffee ringed papers spread along the top. “So.” Sam said into the quiet studio, “Should I... take my shirt off?” The photographer looked up at him. “Not yet. I'll want to take some photos with you dressed, after all.” Sam nodded.“You do know what you're doing here, right?” he asked. He had a tone that implied Sam wouldn't be the first that didn't. Sam didn't want to seem stupid, so he nodded. The photographer guessed right and gave a deep breath. “You were hired to pose for photos for a porn site.” he said. Sam knew that. “It's a gay porn site.” “I know. But, uh, the emails said I wouldn't have to actually... They only said the shirt...” “Right.” Gabriel said, “Good. So, the premise of the site is an all boys college fantasy sort of thing. What we're going to do is pose you in certain... states of, shall we say, opportunity and maybe write a little paragraph of some sexual fantasy. You only have to take your shirt off if you want, we're required by law to only make you do what you want.” “Ok. Yeah, ok.”“Good, so...” The photographer turned back to the camera.“I'm Sam.” Sam said. The photographer looked up at him, his lips quirking in a surprised smile. “Hi, Sam. I'm Gabriel.” “What... do not many people introduce themselves?” “Actually, no. Most are straight guys, it's the kind of people the agents are looking for, and they don't want to get too friendly. I guess pretending to be bi-curious and getting chummy with a gay guy is just too much for their hetero egos.” Sam didn't know what to say to that, so he just looked away. Gabriel didn't even seem to notice. “So, let's start out in the dorm room. Keep your clothes on at this point.” Gabriel instructed, “Ok. Just recline on the bed. Yeah, like that, keep your back straight against the wall. Wow, you're tall. It's good. Long legs translate well on camera.” Gabriel kept talking, never taking a break and Sam was relieved. The echoing silence in the room would have been too uncomfortable, made him too aware. But Gabriel's voice, constant white noise, was a comfort. “Ok, so, I'm going to the prop bin. Let's get you a book or something to hold.” He turned his back to Sam, pulling a plastic storage bin toward him and sifting through it carefully, “What do you think, Oscar Wilde or Tennessee Williams?” He wasn't facing Sam, he clearly wasn't expecting an answer. “Williams.” Sam said, and Gabriel turned around, “I've found Oscar Wilde to be too flip for my taste. Sort of cold. Williams is more sensual.”Gabriel quirked a grin. “We've got a reader amongst us. Jesus, what a fucking relief.” He passed the book along. Sam thumbed through he anthology until he got to the first page of his favorite story. “Ok, so, lift the book a little higher. I know it feels weird, we want to see the long line of your stomach, that's why. You're doing great. It's like your actually reading. Ok, I'm going to take a few test shots, just to get a feel of the lighting.” Gabriel stopped talking, the click of the camera filling up the space left. “I had an english class,” Sam said, “And we read Williams. I wrote my term paper on him.” Gabriel snorted, “I didn't think I'd ever see an actual college student in here. Good for you, kiddo.” “Graduate,” Sam corrected and Gabriel let out a low whistle. Sam laughed. The camera clicked, catching it. “Dimples. Perfect. It looks perfect.” Gabriel said, watching the camera, not Sam. “It looks hot.” Sam grinned again, felt a little trickle of heat drip down his spine like he hadn't felt in so long when he was sober. “Um, Sam.” Gabriel said, looking up from the little screen, “If you're comfortable...” he let the statement trail off. “Yeah, sure.” Sam grabbed the hem of his sweatshirt and pulled it off. He was just wearing a grey undershirt beneath it. “Better?” he asked. Gabriel nodded wordlessly, and went back to snapping pictures. He had Sam hold the book up to his face. He had Sam hold it in his lap, over his crotch. He had Sam put a thumb between the pages and look over at the camera. “Good.” Gabriel said, “Great. This will be great.”“Gabriel?” “Mmm?”“Who writes the paragraphs? The stories that go with the pictures?” “Uh. Me. Actually.” Gabriel said. “This is sort of my site. A friend, Chuck, helped me set it up, he created the whole thing but he's pretty hands off. I do the pictures and the stories.” “Ok.” Sam said, nodding. “Impressive.”Gabriel gave a dry chuckle and shook his head, “It's a low budget jerk-off site. It's not... it's not exactly how I figured my career would pan out.”“I think it's great.” Sam said, “I haven't... I haven't done anything at all.”“Well, thank you. And your time will come, kiddo. You're … you've got a career in this at the very least. You're gorgeous.” Sam smiled. He knew it, of course, but the way Gabriel said it... Like it was just something in passing. Like it was just a fact about him... it made Sam feel light headed and reckless like his first high. Sam stretched a bit, arched his back slightly and puffed out his chest. “Yeah,” Gabriel breathed and the camera clicked, “Yeah, perfect.” “Gabriel?”“Yeah, Sam?”“What... What is the bio going to say?” “Oh, um, something about you missing your girlfriend. You reading a book. Reading something kind of sexy and you're getting kind of hot, not noticing how obvious it is. It's going to be the roommate’s POV. Watching you get turned on while you're engrossed in your book.”“That's good.”“Thank you.”“Should I do more?” Sam asked. “I could,” Sam slipped his hand up his shirt, let himself enjoy the feel of his own fingers as they scraped over his navel, tight and sensitive as it was beneath the shirt. His heartbeat was skittering like the head rush after a fat line of Ruby's coke. He took a nipple in his hand, flicked it until it got hard and protruded, creating an unmistakable silhouette under the fabric. Gabriel gave a sharp intake of breath and the camera clicked again, with Sam's hand up his shirt. Sam ignored it, took the other nipple between his fingers and gave it the same treatment. “Damn.” Gabriel sighed as Sam took his hand from the shirt and picked the book back up, “Yeah, that's...” Gabriel swallowed dryly. He continued to take pictures, but with a courteous silence instead of his previous chatter. “Gabriel?” “Yep?” “Would I get more money if I... If I went down to my underwear?” “Yes, absolutely,” he said without hesitation. Sam put his hands on his pants, slipped a thumb beneath the button and pried it open. The camera went wild as Sam started to finger the waistband of his pants. “Sam?” “Yeah?” “The site also does videos. This would make a great GIF... can I...?” “Sure.” Sam said easily, his cock twitching against his leg. “Feel free to speak up or ask questions. I can edit them out later.” “Ok.” Sam said, nodding, still running his hand along his length, keeping hard. He waited for Gabriel to switch the camera's features. Gabriel gave him a nod, the very image of professionalism except the hot pink creep up the sides of his neck, tainting his cheeks. He started to slide his pants down, slowly, making a show of it. He didn't to look over at Gabriel's reaction as his mostly hard cock slipped out of the denim, the outline against his thigh and beneath the boxer was obscene. He kicked his pants off of his feet, bending in half to push them all the way off. When they were on the floor, Sam went for his shirt, grabbing the back of his collar and pulling it over his head in a fluid motion. He pulled the leg farthest from the camera to his foot was resting on the bed and the camera got a great shot of his cock, so hard now that the head was threatening to come out of the bottom beside his leg. The cool sheets felt sinful against his flushed skin and the depravity of the situation, getting turned on, getting naked, in front of a stranger with a camera was making it difficult for Sam not to grab his cock right there. That had always been Sam's thing; being naughty. He'd livd his whole life by the rules. He was a nerd in High School, with his nose in a book. He went to college and did the same. Met a good, clean girl. Had a good, clean life. Safe. Boring. And towards the end, it felt like someone else's. His whole life he had been white knuckling the reins, the very definition of control and restraint. His brother Dean would tease him about the stick up his ass. And Sam got tired of the constant structure. Unyielding in the slightest, a prison of his own creation that no one had asked him to build, he was trying so hard to be normal that he had erased the rest of him. His clean girl, his clean house, were just things he had acquired while sleepwalking through his life, too afraid to feel good for a moment, too afraid to loosen his grip because, at this point because there wasn't anything left of him. He just snapped. A band wound too tight. Perhaps a cage too small for a wild animal who ran without looking back once it was free. He didn't know who he was like this either, but it was easy. Sam was not a man of moderation. He was a monk or an addict and anything in between had been rubbed raw by now.
So he went to the bars when his friends asked, and he stayed to last call. He made new friends who dropped out of high school. Who worked in bars. Who threw after parties with strippers and dealers and all the people Sam shouldn't get mixed up with. It was so wrong, so sketchy and dirty. Cramped into small apartments on the wrong end of town. Seated between thugs and scumbags. Then he met Ruby, and she sank her teeth right into him. She trapped him in the bathroom of some random person's apartment at two am. She mounted him, ignored his protests because his cock, practically leaking between them, wasn't lying. “Oh, baby. Fuck me hard, baby. Fuck my ass, baby. You can, baby. You can. Stop saying no. Why can't you? Because it's bad and it's wrong and it's we shouldn't?” Sam grabbed her head, then, bit her lips like a beast and she moaned and took it. He threw her onto the bathroom floor, rammed into her from behind like she offered and she just took it. It was so wrong it was hot. “Gabriel,” Sam moaned. The photographer merely grunted, staring strictly at the screen at the back of the camera and not at Sam on the bed. “Gabriel, do I get more money if I jerk off?”“Yeah, Sam. Yeah, grab that monster cock.” Professionalism was hanging by a string. Sam wanted it to break. He was an addict, now. Couldn't get hard unless it was filthy. Couldn't have fun unless he was breaking rules. Sam pulled his cock from his underwear, fisted it and stroked slow, teasing himself. Trying to make Gabriel hot and wild, stupid and raw as he was. Gabriel cleared his throat, “Lotion in that drawer.” His voice was tight. Sam helped himself, squirted some into his hand, too much to make it good enough to get him there but the right amount to make an obscene wet sound with every stroke. He was a marathoner, not a sprinter. He slid the underwear to mid thigh so he could reach between his legs and rub behind his balls, that sweet spot he'd learned all laid out on weed laced with heroin and a stranger's hand violating his private places. He arched his back and sighed as he found it. Gabriel took one hand from the camera, and cupped himself. Sam watched him, lazy eyed, hands still rubbing his crotch, massaging his taint. He broke into a smile. A one hit K.O. if Gabriel's trembling lip had anything to say about it.“Is this ok?” Gabriel asked, his voice so thin and pathetic that Sam was ready to drop to his knees, “Can I? Do you mind?”“How about a blow job?” Sam asked, “What if I sucked a dick? I'd get paid more...” Sam honestly didn't give a fuck at this point. He knew Ruby sucked dick for a gram of anything. He knew Ruby wouldn't think twice if she was where he was. That was the thing he had initially liked about her; their relationship was mutually selfish. But that was their difference. Ruby wanted stuff she could hold or snort or smoke. To her, it was a means to an end. To Sam, it was frolicking in the flames of Hellfire for no reason other than to see how much he could take. Self-destruction was practically a fetish at this point. That was the thing that stopped him from loving her. Sam licked his lips slowly, looking directly into the lens, directly into Gabriel's eyes through it. He hoped he looked like a cheap whore. He hoped he looked like horny scum because otherwise it wasn't any fun. “Yes, of course, yes,” Gabriel breathed, “But we don't have another model... Fuck, we don't have another model short notice.”“Then get over here.” Sam stroked himself, arching his hips, rolling his thumb along the head of his cock. He slipped his other hand lower, pressing against the bud of his hole and groaning. Sam remembered his character. “God, give it to me. I'm so horny. Miss my girlfriend so much. Nothing but guys everywhere. Want to suck your cock. Want to fuck so bad.” Sam wasn't an actor. Gabriel didn't seem to mind at all. He climbed into the bed, let Sam wrap his hands around Gabriel's hips, pull his pelvis forward until Gabriel was sitting on his chest. Gabriel held the camera in front of his face but was watching Sam with horny glazed eyes as Sam undid Gabriel's pants, tugged them down to beneath the curve of his ass. “Never sucked a cock before.” he said innocently, batting his eyes shyly at the camera, “Want to suck yours. Don't come on my face though, ok?” He forced his voice to sound nervous, tried to hide the fact that he was hungry for Gabriel to come anywhere he damn pleased. Wanted whoever was watching this video to think that Sam was a sick, depraved slut. Gabriel guided his cock to Sam's mouth, and Sam feigned reluctance, tracing Gabriel's leaking cock head along his lips before slipping a virgin timid tongue out to feel him. “Taste good,” Sam said, and let Gabriel take the opportunity to shove his dick all the way in. Sam moaned, closed his eyes and savored the older man's cock in his mouth, bobbing his head. Sam knew what he was doing, had given head, had let people watch. Sometimes to get some drugs, sometimes just for the thrill of sinking to his knees. “You like that cock?” Gabriel asked, a hard voice for the camera to pick up. Sam nodded his head, letting the cock slip from his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, so good.” Sam said, “Don't tell. I'm not gay.” “Then why do you have come on your face?” Gabriel sneered. Sam widened his eyes in actual shock and thrust his hips up into nothing because never, ever had someone gotten with the program so quickly. He'd always had to ask before. “Please, don't” Sam breathed. But above him, behind the camera, Gabriel just grinned, and took his cock in his own hand, the only free one, and rubbed furiously. With a stutter of his hips, Gabriel was painting Sam's face with thick, hot come. He felt it catch on his eye lashes, along his nose, in his hair. He held his face for as long as he could, as long as he could manage before his tongue slipped out, started licking himself clean. “Fuck.” Sam murmured, “Fuck.” His whole character gone to Hell, “How much for a fuck scene? Jesus, I need to get off.” “Yeah. Whatever you want.” Gabriel said, his voice lazy, now, after his orgasm. “More if we fuck you with a toy or something.”“Sure, yeah.” Sam moaned, letting his legs fall apart, spread. Gabriel took the lotion from the bedside table, tossed it on Sam's chest without tenderness. “Open yourself up. I'll find a dildo.” Sam pumped lotion into his hand, slipped it between his legs and started stretching open, quickly and without finesse. Gabriel came back with a seven inch hot pink toy. “How ya doin'?” he asked Sam softly, settling on the foot of the bed. “Good. I've done this before.” Sam assured him.“Ok. This is the scary one, speak up if it hurts, we can always edit it out later.” “Got it.” Sam gasped, wiggling his third finger into himself, “Don't worry. Just fuck me until I come.” “You got it, kid.” Gabriel said, then louder for the camera, “Why do you have this?” He held the toy in front of the lens. “You shouldn't go through my stuff.” Sam murmured, sheepish. “You said you weren't gay. Ha.” “I used it on my girlfriend. She came up for the weekend. Left it.” “Did you use it on her or did she use it on you?” Sam fell silent and looked away. “I'm going to fuck you on this. Like a bitch.” “Please, don't” Sam whispered. “I've never had anything that big in me.” Gabriel scooted forward on his knees, settled between Sam's thighs. He put the head of the toy against Sam's rim. Gabriel tore his eyes away from the screen and onto Sam's face. He raised an eyebrow. Sam took his knees in each hand and pulled them towards his chest. He nodded at Gabriel and took a deep exhale. “Never taken a dildo before, yet you hold you knees like an experienced bitch.” Gabriel eased the toy into him, watching Sam's face while keeping the camera on his hole. Sam felt Gabriel's knuckles touch the cheeks of his ass. “Never taken a dildo before?” Gabriel repeated, “Look how loose you are.”“Fuck me,” Sam pleaded, “Fuck me.” And he wasn't sure if he was the character anymore or if it was just him with his knees by his ears and a camera zoomed onto his hole as it was abused. Gabriel started a brutally slow pace anyway. Sam moaned, he threw his head. He let go of one knees, reached between his legs and started jerking his cock. Gabriel sped up the dildo until it matched Sam's punishing pace. Sam made a strangled cry as he got close. Gabriel fucked him faster, the dildo ramming his ass, every so often coming in contact with Gabriel's knuckles. “Come, gay boy.” Gabriel hounded him, the dildo nothing more than a blur from where Sam could see, “Come and let the whole world know that you're a cock slut.” Sam lifted his hips off the bed as he came like a volcano, spectacularly across his chest, over the sleeves of Gabriel's clean shirt. He fell boneless against the mattress, drenched in his sweat and lotion and come. Settling into the filth like it was home. Gabriel didn't say a word, just kept the camera on his ass as he slowly pulled the dildo from Sam's body, so Sam could feel every inch or it coming out. Gabriel kept the camera on his hole, watching it clench tight around empty air. Sam lay motionless, sated and sleepy and higher than any drug Ruby had slipped into his veins. Gabriel clicked off the camera and put it to the side of the bed before looking down at Sam's spent body. Sam let him look his fill. No camera between them anymore. No disguise.. Gabriel surged forward, sealing his lips over Sam's in a desperate kiss. Gabriel nibbled Sam's lip sucked it hard, snuck his tongue into Sam's mouth and kissed him viciously, holding his head captive, curling his fingers into Sam's hair. Sam let him, pressing his tongue up, letting it twirl with Gabriel's. Lazy and vulgar, with the taste of Gabriel's come still in his mouth. Gabriel pulled away, ran a hand along Sam's jaw. “Fuck, kiddo. You could be a star.” “That sounds nice,” Sam smiled wickedly. “I can make you a star...” Gabriel ventured. “We could sell your videos to other sites. We could pair you up--. You could do solo. I could even just take your picture, make a portfolio and you could be a real model. You could be legit. Make a lot of money, earn a lot of respect.”“Mmmmm. Nah. I think I'll be a pornstar instead. I always had a thing for student/teacher.” Sam purred, palming Gabriel's neck, letting his thumb linger downwards. Gabriel whined in the back of his throat, “So please, Mr. Gabriel, tell me what I can do to pass.” “Damn, kid, don't tease me.” “Who's teasing?” “I don't just want you as a pornstar, Sam. I want you. I want you to live in my loft and sleep in my bed. I want to tie you up on lazy sundays. I want you to fuck my ass brutally in the breakfast nook. I want you, kid. For as long as you'll have me.” “That sounds nice,” Sam said again. “Really?” Gabriel asked, a shy smile forming. “Everyone will call you my kept boy. People will think you're cheap.” “So? I don't care. Maybe I even kind of like it. I know I'm not cheap. I don't need your things, Gabriel. Or your money. I'm not like that. I just like the way I feel right now. With you. ” “Jesus, Sam.” Gabriel sighed, “Jesus, are we stupid right now?”“Yeah.” Sam said gleefully. “This sounds like a terrible idea” “Sam?”“Yeah, Gabriel?”“Wanna smoke a joint and watch it?”“Yeah,” Sam said, propping himself onto his elbows, “That sounds nice.”