(This story is entirely a work of fiction and contains elements of urination and raunch)
Nothing.
That's my name and that's who I am. Once upon a time I had a normal life. A need for excitement and a desperation for the fulfillment of my more extreme urges led me to abandon all I had. Leaving my old self behind I came to live with the Party Boyz. They're the hottest boy band on the planet. In the US alone they had three number one albums, thirteen number one singles, and a trifecta of sold out concert tours.
Awards, constant attention from the media and the internet, and the unbridled fandom of millions around the world completed the picture. Then there I was. In the picture, but hidden. Stashed away or in disguise. I lived for their pleasure, whether it was sexual, perverted, or doing things that embarrass me and made them laugh. "Gave them a giggle," as Kole put it.
The night they started talking about our LA trip, we were having dinner at Wolfgang Puck's new restaurant at the MGM Grand. It was an hour before their show, part of a months long residency, was due to begin.
I was in my Armani suit. Kole had procured it for me by simply asking them. It was Kole from the Party Boyz after all. Sandy haired sex symbol with blue eyes and toned body, at twenty seven he'd already been in three movies. People just seemed to give them all things, even though they could afford to buy and sell most of those people.
It was rare that I be allowed to sit at the table. In their penthouse I usually stayed on the floor naked. Sometimes I ate things from the floor after the guys had stepped on it or hocked up a wad of spit on top.
"This salmon tastes like shit," Timm said, though not everyone understood him since his mouth was full of said salmon. He pulled the plate that sat in front of me over to him. The twenty four year old heartthrob then spat his chewed up salmon onto my plate. Dinner was served. "Yuck," he said, pushing back a lock of chestnut curls that had fallen into his face.
With my plate back in front of me, I picked up my fork. Tasting his saliva soaked salmon, my dick began throbbing with pleasure below the table. It tasted fine to me, but it could have been the special seasoning his mouth had given it that pulled it all together.
"Maybe it was shit?" Phinn questioned. The youngest member of the group, at seventeen his brown eyes and prominent cheekbones were in magazines and all over the web these days. Having begun his career as everyone's favorite little brother (that's how the record label promoted him anyway), he'd grown into a tall and lanky lust magnet.
"What do you mean, maybe it was shit?" Kole asked, his own mouth full of the pan seared filet mignon he'd ordered.
"Like, do the cooks clean out the salmon shit before they serve it?" Phinn asked, taking another big bite of rigatoni.
"No, I'm sure Wolfgang fucking Puck leaves shit in the food he serves," Kole said sarcastically. "Most people don't like eating waste. Nothing does, but he's one in a million. Aren't you Nothing?" They laughed as I finished what was on my plate.
"Yes, thank you. I love eating your waste," I made sure to look at all three, "It's been the honor of my life." We all looked up as a waitress came by to refill our drinks. Our table was hidden from the other diners in the restaurant, but staff occasionally walked by or returned to serve us.
"Ding," Kole said. "Nothing, your bread is done." The others chuckled as Kole reached down into his pants as subtly as possible and pulled out a dinner roll. Having been flattened a bit by being "baked" in Kole's oven, as he'd put it, it bore little resemblance to the rolls on the table. He tossed it over to me. I caught it, not willing to let anything so precious get away.
The smell of his asshole and balls, between which it had been reheated, mixed with the butter to create a heavenly smell the angels should be so blessed to enjoy.
"I told you it wasn't done, had to bake longer," Kole said.
"It's perfect," I said between bites. The flavor of his dirty ass was a taste I could never take for granted. Better than any creation Wolfgang Puck could conjure.
"So," Timm said, changing the subject, "our last show is Sunday, then we leave for a week in LA. Nothing, you're gonna be on the record label's private jet with us."
"I have the perfect cover story," Kole said. "You'll be a movie executive that wants me to star in one of your movies. You say you'll do anything to get me to sign on. Anything."
He emphasized `anything,' and I grinned in anticipation.
"I don't know," Timm said. "Is it believable that people want you in their movies? Didn't that hospital romance you made bomb?"
"Fuck you," Kole replied with a laugh. Then he pulled a piece of well-chewed meat from his mouth. "Wolfgang should be ashamed, I've been chewing this piece of steak for five minutes and it's just so damn tough. You can have it, Nothing."
I offered my plate and he dropped the moist meat there. Lifting it with my fork, I could see the bite marks and spit that covered the steak. Inserting it into my mouth, I felt the food on my tongue. How long it took to chew didn't bother me, I was happy to relish the saliva soaked morsel all day.
"The movie thing will work fine," Kole said. "Nobody wants to talk to movie execs, they're fucking insufferable. And if Nothing does get cornered, he can just talk about how fucking beautiful I am. How my face was made for the silver screen."
"Just don't tell them how much you like to drink his piss, okay?" Timm added. "Imagine someone asking, Why do you want Kole in a movie and not Ansel Elgort or Ross Lynch? Nothing's going to say, Well, Kole's piss is very tasty and I love to lick his dirty feet. Oh and, when he farts in my mouth it makes my pee-pee get really hard."
Phinn laughed suddenly and almost made wine come out of his nose. Then we were all enjoying the joke. Later as we rose to leave, Timm leaned over to me. For some reason I thought he was going to tell me something, but he spat in my face instead. His delicious spittle began running down my cheeks. I opened my mouth to taste it, but he stopped me.
"Don't wipe it off," Timm said with a smirk.
Nodding in submission, I followed them. Staying twenty paces behind, as was my usual instruction. Unavoidably passing diners, there was a commotion and immediately phones began taking pictures and video. The Party Boyz were passing through. Their security brigade made way for the guys to exit as a waiter stopped me.
"Dude," the handsome guy around Kole's age said, "you got something on your face. It's dripping down. Looks like somebody cleared their throat and spit it right there."
"It's a good thing," I said confidently. The waiter looked puzzled and mildly disgusted. "It's a blessing really. An honor."
"Okay then," the waiter said as he faded away. Calling it a blessing might have given him the impression I was a religious fanatic, which in many ways was true. The three of them were my holy trinity. Their wishes were indeed my command.
A few days later and we were on the plane. The record company sent a jumbo midsize jet for the boys. Two clusters of four sleek leather chairs created a pair of conversation areas in the plane's cabin. Timm got stuck beside their stylist Toni and her assistant. Phinn sat down beside him, eliciting a grateful smile from his bandmate. A duo of security men sat beside each other in the seats nearest to the cockpit.
In my role as fictitious movie executive, I followed Kole and sat in the chair nearest him. Across from us sat a PR man named Evan and a record company representative named Jake. They were both around forty, at least that was my guess. Quite good looking, no wonder they got paid so handsomely to do things like take a one hour flight from Las Vegas to LA on behalf of a company.
The executives wore suits, neither quite as nice as the Armani I had on. The guys were dressed in superstar clothes that normal people would look ridiculous in. Beside me, Kole wore jeans that consisted of at least seventy five percent rips and holes. His well toned legs were showcased, their hair reaching out through the openings. Red soled Christian Louboutin sandals were on his strong feet, showcasing the tan they had picked up from sitting on the penthouse terrace. These shoes looked like dime store flip flops to me, but had been three hundred and fifty dollars at Bergdorf Goodman. A Balenciaga tank top allowed an enticing patch of armpit hair to remain visible.
Timm sported a flowy top over tight pants, gifts from the Italian designer Linguo Rembata. A tiger print top was chosen for Phinn and paired with Valentino pleated front trousers the color of chocolate milk.
Shortly after the plane reached its desired altitude, Evan the PR man looked my way and struck up a conversation. A smile played upon Kole's lips as he listened in, but pretended to read his phone.
"I'm Evan Peterson. Party Boyz PR," he added with a chuckle. "Kole told me back on the tarmac that you want him in a feature film."
"Dick Garbler, nice to meet you," I said, repeating the name I'd been given by Phinn.
"Dick Gobbler you say," asked Evan with a straight face.
"Garbler," I corrected him. Beyond the PR man's shoulder I could see Phinn and Timm overhearing this. They were laughing but trying to hold it in. Pleasantly, I nodded and then tried to look interested in the view from the window by my seat. Currently there was a vast desert below us.
"Dick," Kole said, "would you mind closing the shade on that window beside you? The sun's shining off the wing of the plane and it's blinding me." Nothing about that was true, but I played along. The window covered, I looked down at my knees.
"I think Kole would be a fabulous film star," Evan said. "He's got that boyish grin that brings in audiences."
"Absolutely," I agreed.
"Shucks guys," Kole said. "You're making me blush. I'd like to get some sleep though, so butter up my asshole later." With that he leaned back and shut his eyes.
"Sup Dick?" Timm had gotten up and walked over. "You're looking thirsty over here, so my boy Phinn said to give you this." He held out a twenty ounce bottle of Mountain Dew. Taking it, I noted that it was warm.
"Thanks gentlemen," I said in return. "I'm very grateful."
"We know. It's our pleasure, Dick." Timm returned to his seat and tried to stifle his laugher. Phinn was also trying to act cool. Twisting the cap of the bottle, I could tell it had already been opened. Lifting it to my lips, a light sour smell hit me. Before tasting it I could tell it had been Phinn who'd refilled the empty bottle with his own piss. Also, he appeared well hydrated which made the urine odor weaker and (probably) only noticeable to me.
I took a big drink, enjoying the warm beverage. These unknowing men in suits which sat only feet away had no idea I was slurping down one of the Boyz self-made fluids. Something like salt water, but with a tang that let you know it came from a man's body, Phinn's piss was quenching my thirsts on many levels. Screwing the top back on, I forced myself to stop and save some for later.
"I think Kole could easily star in the remake of that movie `Cocktail.' That's a very hot property around town, but of course you know that. Did you say which movie studio you're with?"
"No," I answered honestly.
"Of course Timm and Phinn could make it big in movies too. These three are so talented in every conceivable way. I see Phinn doing horror or sci-fi. If I saw him in space, I'd believe it. Does that make sense? Timm, with his huge LGBTQ+ following, he's perfect for the `Brokeback Mountain' remake. Top or bottom, he could pass for both."
"No way," the other suit, Jake, said. "It's too early for a `Brokeback' remake! It feels like that just came out." As they talked gay cowboy prestige dramas, I took another long sip from Phinn's piss bottle. Superior to actual Mountain Dew in every way.
"It feels like it just came out to you and me," Evan said. "Who's the youngest here, Phinn?" He swiveled his chair slightly and asked Phinn how long ago he felt `Brokeback Mountain' came out. As he answered, I took a swig of his piss.
"Just before I was born," the youngest on the plane replied. This led to further discussion from the suits. As they debated, Kole continued pretending to sleep. I noticed his right foot had lost its sandal and was creeping closer in my direction. This leg was crossed over his other and his bare toes were about to be on my knee and then, if their trajectory continued, in my lap.
"There's also the reboot of Batman coming up. Kole could be Batman. Bruce Wayne sings now, so what?" Evan speculated. "What's your take, Dick?"
"Uh, well," I said as he swiveled back in my direction.
Kole's foot had come to rest on my knee. Glancing down I noticed some rough patches on the big toe, the ball of his foot, and on the heel. I made a mental note to do something about that later. My nostrils automatically opened wide to bring in the stale stink that I couldn't get enough of.
"Could be Batman for sure. Or a villain. He's got a wide range as an actor. There was the hospital movie, `Disease Called Love.' So powerful," I kept sharing Dick Garbler's opinions, not letting on to Evan or Jake that I even noticed Kole's foot there on my knee. His toes bounced a little, six or so inches from my face. "And he was a soldier in the one film. Stormed the beaches of Normandy I think. Great work there as well."
During my critique of his screen work, Kole kept scooting his gorgeous foot over. The heel now moved ahead and bumped into my crotch. I wasn't completely sure, but my erection had to have been noticeable to those around us.
"Do you want me to wake him?" Evan asked with a glance at the intruding foot. Kole really was a good actor, his face looked like it was asleep. Adorable pink lips, the little mole on his left cheek. The evenly timed rise and fall of his chest really sold the illusion.
"Oh no," I said, Kole's heel bumping into my throbbing cock which strained against the Armani. I'd have thought he would worry I might stain the suit by ejaculating inside it. "I hate to wake him," I continued in a near whisper. "He works so hard, as a performer. Performing. It's just a foot." Saying the word, his foot pushed in closer and pressed against my balls.
"Right," Evan said. Then he got an alert of some kind on his phone and lost interest in me entirely. Relieved, I opened the bottle of Phinn's piss and drained the rest of it. It wasn't easy, but I kept my self from ejaculating inside the suit. The taste of Phinn's golden dick juice and Kole's foot, so fucking sexy, Jesus, sitting right there... Perhaps I have more willpower than I'd given myself credit for.
After twenty minutes or so I looked over and realized Kole really had fallen asleep. Sandy blond hair falling over as his head leaned to the right. Glancing down I saw his foot resting so peacefully in my lap. How I wanted to put those toes in my mouth, suck each one, lick between each and then up and down the sole ...
Knowing I was about to blow a load, I closed my eyes. Kole's foot smell alone threatened to make me lose it, so I tilted my head up hoping to catch fresh air from the vent. Clearing my mind, willing my dick to soften, I soon joined Kole in slumber.
A bump and a screech as the plane's tires hit the runway woke us both up. Startled, Kole inadvertently kicked me in the sack upon waking. Wincing from the sudden jolt of pain, I heard Kole chuckle.
"Sorry about that, Dick," Kole said gleefully. "In my dream I was driving my old Bugatti and I stepped on the breaks to avoid a butterfly."
"It's nothing," I said, knowing how my embarrassment amused him.
"I'm no doctor, but if you want to drop your pants and let me take a look, I can probably tell if anything's wrong. With your balls. Would you like me to inspect your ball sack?"
Kole was a good actor, but I could tell he was feigning sincerity and just wanted to see how far I'd go. Evan and Jake glanced up from their phones, seeming unsure whether this was a joke or not. My eyes were on Kole and his caring smile. Subtly he nodded at me. It appears I did want him to check out my balls.
"You know," I said. "Just to ... be sure everything's medically okay. Maybe you should have a look?" I was trying to sell this as a normal conversation, but I couldn't bring myself to look at the executives to see if they were buying it. As the plane slowly approached the terminal, I stood and unzipped my pants.
"No need to hesitate," Kole said. "Nothing I haven't seen before. Balls I mean, in the locker room and places like that. Every day occurrence."
I faced him and pulled out my sack. They looked normal, of course.
"Hmm," Kole said. "You need a second opinion." My face reddened, but I also almost laughed. It was such a Kole thing to do. "Guys," he said, addressing Evan and Jake. "Could you look at my dude's nuts here? I stomped `em by accident when we landed."
They knew this of course, having been three feet away at the time. Evan and Jake looked back and forth, and then decided if it's what Kole wanted ... I stood in front of them, they leaned in to investigate.
"Sorry about all this ball stuff, Toni!" Kole shouted to the stylist.
"Hey, I've seen a few in my day, no worries," Toni replied.
"Cool," Kole continued. "Sorry about the ball stuff, security guys!" He shouted this to the pair of muscular men at the front of the plane. They nodded and waved, communicating `we don't care.'
"Phinn, Timm," Kole said seriously, "fuck you guys."
"Fuck you too," they responded in unison.
"Uh," Evan said as he leaned back, "I think you look well, sir." Jake concurred with Evan and starting gathering his things, eager to disembark for some reason. I started to put my testicles back in my pants but was stopped.
Before I left the plane I showed my balls to Toni, her assistant, the security guys, and the pilot. Everyone gave me a clean bill of health. I felt completely humiliated. It was bliss. From the airport we took a limo to the Beverly Hills Hotel. This time it was just myself and the Party Boyz. They each laughed to the point of crying thinking about the things they'd made me do on the plane.
I could tell they were just getting started.