The following contains adult material and shouldn't be read by anyone under the legal age. It will also contain a variety of young male celebrities as characters, this in no way is meant to reflect on the real individuals but is just wishful thinking on my part. I'm not even an actor, this is completely fictional - so just enjoy!
Editor's note about this chronicle: I intended to get right to the point with this opening chapter, but it took me longer to introduce the central idea than I thought it would. Please be patient, I promise you I have a real love for smut and will get to it ASAP in the second chapter (and every one thereafter). So please enjoy and definitely let me know what you think. I can be reached at the following address: j_spaydes@yahoo.ca
Chapter 1 : The Audition
One thing which I learned real soon after making my way out to Los Angeles from Toronto a few years back was that being a struggling actor' involved much more struggling than it did acting. I'm a pretty good looking guy, but then again, in Los Angeles, just about *everyone* is good looking. I'd started acting as a kid, and landed a commercial or two for local companies. I'd also appeared in lots of plays in high school. I'd always known it was what I wanted to do. So, when I hit 18 I threw my lot in with destiny and figured that my determination would lead to something. A year later and my biggest gig had been a lousy touring theatre (and I use the term loosely) troupe who played at old folks homes. It was humiliating. And even that hadn't lasted long, and now I was back waiting tables and trying desperately to make auditions but maintain my rent payments. I was just about to go home when it happened. I was finally discovered'.
Last week I was waiting tables like usual when these two men had come it. They were both in their early 40s, but were still looking good for their age. They looked like two guys who had grown better with age, like fine wine (to use a tired cliche...) They'd sat down, ordered food and I served them with my usual flair for the slightly dramatic (in L.A. you never knew who could be a casting agent). They'd been slightly amused by me, and rather condescending. I'd been tempted to spit in their food a couple of times, but convinced myself that the last thing I needed right now was to get my ass fired.
When they were done they called me over. I brought the bill and a smile. When I got there they both sized me up, running their eyes over the length of my body. It was really kinda awkward, and for the first time I realized that they could be a couple. One of them, a dark haired man with a Mediterranean look to him nodded to his lighter haired friend. The lighter haired guy turned to me and spoke the words I'll never forget.
"You have an agent kid?" he rasped in a surprisingly grisly voice which didn't suit his appearance at all (smoker maybe?).
I stammered no, blushing and getting frustrated that I was so totally fucking up my big break. The two men seemed amused that for the first time all night I was completely off my guard.
"Now that's real emotion, don't you think Steve?" the darker man joked with his friend.
"Much better than all those bullshit smiles he's been throwing our way all night" laughed the blond guy, Steve.
I had no idea what to say, I just couldn't believe I'd completely lost my cool! I had rehearsed this scenario so many times in my head - exactly what I'd say, how I'd be gracious without fawning, how I wouldn't lose my cool. Now it was all I could do not to pee my pants. I was able to concentrate long enough to hear what they said next. I was invited to try out for an agency, and if I impressed them and their colleagues they'd represent me. I'd never heard of the company, even though they claimed it was very `exclusive'. After slipping me a business card, they payed their bill and left - without a tip, but that didn't matter! This was my big shot!
I don't even remember the rest of my shift, my head was completely in the clouds. I kept glancing at the business card every few minutes just to convince myself this wasn't all just a dream. RMA it said, it big bold letters, although it didn't offer any explanation as to what the letters stood for.
That night I got home and immediately stripped down to my boxer shorts. I pulled my coffee table out of the way (my apartment was VERY small) and started doing push-ups and sit-ups - alternating set after set for over an hour before hunger and fatigue finally caught up with me. Glistening with sweat, which ran down my smooth chest and got soaked up in my now damp boxers, I walked over to the kitchen. My fridge was a sorry sight, all I had was a couple of eggs, some leftover salad which was going brown in places and a half bottle of flat Coke. I'd forgotten to do the groceries again... not that I could afford very much anyway. Oh well, I'd just be a little trimmer when I went for my try-out.
My moist boxers were starting to annoy me so I kicked them off and walked around naked for a bit, cooling myself off a little. I hadn't gotten any action in months, and just being naked was enough to get me a little excited - I started imagining all the stars I'd meet. I wondered which actresses I'd end up co-starring with, would I have a big scandal - maybe be the other man' that split up a Hollywood super couple' (not that there were very many left). The thought of getting my name in the tabloids was actually exciting, and I didn't think it would bother me at all.
I walked over to the grimy little bathroom and hopped in the shower. This apartment was old and there wasn't enough hot water to go around, so I had to content myself with a cold shower. Whatever bodily excitement I'd been experiencing quickly went down the drain. I got out, dried myself off and headed to bed. I knew there was no way I'd get any sleep. The audition was only a week away and already it was all I could think of.
Now here I was, standing outside the glass doors of one of L.A.'s many skyscrapers. I felt a little nauseous, even though I hadn't had much to eat all week. I'd probably over exerted myself, with all the exercise, but I was determined to make the most out of this situation. I'd calculated my finances the other night and I knew that if I didn't get work soon I'd have to head home in shame. There was no way I could go back to all those people who had doubted my resolve and admit they were right. I suppose I could always sell my body, I thought to myself wryly, but I didn't think so.
Taking a deep breath I opened the door and walked in. The lobby was mostly made of marble and was quite immaculate. I walked across the lobby to the elevator. I don't know if it was just my imagination but it seemed that all the workers behind the desk and even the cleaning lady were watching me with interest. Almost like they were sizing me up. God don't be stupid, I told myself - if you can't even take the pressure of the fucking lobby, how am I going to stand up in front the suits upstairs.
I was already sweating slightly when the elevator door finally opened, and I hastily got in. I let out a deep breath and tried to calm myself down - this was the moment I'd been waiting for, and it had come just in the nick of time. It had to be fate, I was going to get this representation, and then work - lots and lots of work.
I stepped out of the elevator into another lobby. This one was much smaller, though no less impressive. Unlike the conservative marble of the front lobby, this one was bright, almost garish. The man behind the reception desk seemed to have dressed to match the room. He had to be gay the way he was dressed - he almost looked like a drag queen. Oh well, it was L.A., these things were to be expected. I walked up to him and told him my name.
"Not a moment too soon Matthew, everyone's just settling in now" he said flippantly. I immediately didn't like him. It wasn't the probable gay thing, he just seemed way too over the top.
"Where do I go?" I asked.
He introduced himself as Carl, and directed me to a room and handed me a manilla envelope. I had the choice of three scenes to read, and had only five minutes to prepare before I was on. I'd been to dry readings before, but had never felt pressure like this. If I wanted to eat, I had to do this right. There was a scene from Chekhov's "The Cherry Orchard", one from "Our Town" and one from Shakespeare's "Much Ado About Nothing". I'd performed Chekhov in high school, so the selection was a no brainer. I'd barely read it over a second time when Carl returned and told me it was time. I couldn't believe it! It was too soon, I hadn't refreshed my memory yet. I tried to stall, but at the exaggerated disapproving look I got from Carl I gave in. It was show time.
I was directed to a small room, which looked like a miniature stadium. There was a small performance area, and ranged around it were rows of seats. Steve and the other man from the restaurant were there, along with two other men and one woman. She was absolutely mesmerizing. I couldn't help but stare at her as I entered the room. Long dark hair, almost black, cascaded down her back and framed her pale face perfectly. Her lips were a sharp red and her eyes glistened green. She looked like a real man-eater.
They were all silent as I entered and walked over to the performance area. I stood there and cleared my throat. I wasn't sure if I should just start, or wait. I stood there silently. Some of them were looking at papers, others were whispering to each other. No one but Steve seemed to be paying me any attention. Steve was staring right at me, sizing me up again like he had at the restaurant. I couldn't help but start to sweat. Damn it, keep it together!
"You may begin" Steve finally said after several agonizingly long minutes.
The others quieted down and I began to read. I was pleased to realize that the part started coming back to me, and soon I wasn't even looking at the script. I gave myself fully to the performance and forgot about all my other worries and concerns. I even managed to forget where I was, all that mattered were the words.
I finished the piece and slowly came back to reality. Everyone in the room was staring at me. The woman had a slight smile on her face. Steve nodded to his friends with a self-congratulatory smirk. I knew then that I'd finally been `discovered'. My mind started racing with the possibilities, but these came to a sudden, screeching halt.
"It takes more than nice words to make it in this business, don't you agree Lazlow?" one of the men I didn't know said suddenly.
The dark haired man from the restaurant nodded in agreement. I couldn't believe this, I'd been fucking brilliant! How could they possibly say no! They had to understand how badly I needed this. I opened my mouth to speak but was silenced by a gesture from Steve. I was forced to stand there while they openly discussed me. It was horrible. Some of them weren't sure I was good looking enough - they broke me down into parts... Was my nose too big, my eyes not striking enough... I'd never felt insecure before but I quickly felt like crying. Through it all I didn't say a word, I simply tried to hang onto some self respect and dignity.
They finally decided my face was passable', hardly the compliment I was looking for, but after having my appearance picked apart and ripped to shreds it was welcome. The next argument though was about whether I was too skinny or not. Lazlow claimed that they couldn't have some bean pole in their agency, it would tarnish their over all value'. God I felt like such a piece of meat.
"Would you mind removing some clothing?" It was Steve talking, he was looking right at me, and by the look in his eyes, it was more an order than a question. It was basically strip or leave.
I was no idiot. I quickly removed my shirt and undershirt. I debated whether or not to flex, and finally decided it would look silly. I felt really small and insignificant. Whatever determination and composure I'd tried to muster was gone. I felt really young again all of a sudden - I'd been playing at being an adult for so long, but now I felt like a true adolescent again.
"Your pants too, please, we don't want any chicken legs" someone said, I wasn't even sure who.
I kicked off my shoes and someone instructed me to remove my socks while I was at it. I did so, starting to feel really uncomfortable. I felt like I no longer had any control over the situation, like the whole world was spinning around me. I was sweating now and I felt completely exposed. I felt my pants drop down around my ankles before I was even aware that I had unfastened them. I stepped out of them and stood there in my boxers, glad that I had worn a new pair of white Calvins.
I had a nicely developed smooth chest and nicely toned abs. I guess maybe I was a little skinny, but I was muscled too, and that seemed to be really in style right now. You rarely saw really beefcake young stars anymore - it was all about swimmer's builds - and that I had, and had been very careful to maintain.
I looked up and noticed no one was really paying much attention to me, they were all bent over and whispering to one another. I guess it was time for the final decision. I was already looking forward to getting dressed again. Please, please, please, don't let this all be for nothing, I prayed. I noticed Carl looking in from his desk outside with a big grin on his face, and I blushed furiously. This was just yet another humiliation, when was this going to end.
I heard movement and turned to see that Lazlow was getting up and leaving. He was followed by everyone else except Steve, who remained sitting. The woman was the last to leave, and she shut the door behind her. The last thing I saw was Carl pouting at the loss of his view. I turned to Steve, not sure what to say.
"We've pretty much made our decision about your worthiness, but there's a few more things that need to be cleared up first" Steve said.
"May I get dressed now?" I asked, reaching for my pants.
"No."
I froze at the unexpected reply. Steve was staring at me, with an odd look. He seemed amused, but there was also a lot of condescension there too, like he was looking at a puppy who'd just rolled over for a tummy rub. I was starting to get really nervous.
"Quite the opposite actually, Steve rasped, you're going to get completely naked."
At first I thought I'd heard him wrong, then I thought he was joking. Then I realized he was quite serious. I started grabbing my clothes quickly and ran for the door. It was locked. I pulled at the handle, frightened out of my mind. I started to hyperventilate. I turned around to face Steve at the sound of his laughter.
"Don't panic Matthew, it's nothing to get yourself worked up over. You'll understand why you must get naked in a moment. I promise it will be worth your while - or do you intend to starve to death? Your rent is overdue and you're about to be evicted, you have no money and you just got fired. What are you going to do, run home to mommy?" he mocked.
"F..f..fired?" was all I could mutter, taken completely aback by all of this, I didn't know what to do. I started pulling on my pants, but for some reason I was having trouble getting them on. My mind was reeling, the room was spinning.
"Yes, I had you fired, hope you don't mind. I knew you were too good a talent to waste waiting tables."
Through all the fog and confusion, the only words that really registered with me were "too good a talent". He appealed to my vanity, and in my desperation, that's what I grabbed on to. I stared at him, and he stared back, waiting. Well, I supposed it couldn't hurt to find out what he had to say I reasoned... and if he tried anything, I was sure I could take him. I turned my back slightly to him and pulled my boxer shorts down slowly. Steve let out a low whistle at the sight of my bare ass cheeks - a pale golden brown and hairless except for a little bit nestled deep in my crack.
"Turn around and don't cover yourself", Steve ordered.
I was reluctant, but complied. I shut my eyes, somehow that made it easier to expose myself. Maybe if I just didn't see him sizing me up then maybe...
"Not too bad, but a little small. Course, most of you little pussyboy celebs usually are."
My face burned at his words. It was true, I'd never be nicknamed "Meat", but I certainly would never be called "Tiny" either. Flaccid, I usually hung a few inches over a small set of balls, but erect things swelled nicely and I topped out at just over six inches.
Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and looked at Steve. To my surprise he was no longer even looking at me, but was instead making notes on a pad. I waited. He'd promised an explanation and an offer, and I was still hoping that it would come. Please don't tell me this was all a trick for this old pervert to get a cheap thrill. Then Steve spoke. His raspy voice took on a softer note, and by the sound of things, he'd said what he was saying many times before - it had the sound of recitation.
"It takes a lot to make it in this business, and determination and drive will only get you so far. At some point you have concede, you have to give in, do whatever it takes. You need to sell yourself. You've heard stories of the casting couch, women having to fuck directors to get work - well those just ain't stories - that's fact. Hell, that's the business we're in at RMA, we're glorified pimps - we do the shit the reputable companies are afraid to do for themselves. So we do it for them. But every so often, when we think we've found someone special, we take them on as a personal client - and that's what we've done with you - that's if you accept, and if you can prove your dedication."
I looked at him blankly, not sure what he was talking about. He must have read my look of confusion because he rolled his eyes and got up. Before I knew it he was right in front of me and his hand had grabbed hold of my balls. I squirmed in his grasp and whimpered.
"What I'm saying you little bitch, he growled into my face, is that if you want to make it in this business you've got to fuck! And suck, and bend over and take it up the ass if need be. And if you do that then I'll make you a fucking star - the next Brad Pitt, god knows he took his plowings like a champ - but if you leave here then you've got nothing, absolutely nothing except your morals and a tiny little cock. So what's it going to be?"
He released my balls and I collapsed to the floor with a whimper. God this couldn't be happening. Of course I'd heard casting couch stories before, everyone had - but it was actresses it happened to! Not guys. Or at least no one talked about it... Brad Pitt? It couldn't be, Steve must be lying. But what if he wasn't, what if it were all true and I could be a star? He was right, I had no options left, but I just didn't know if I could do it.
"You have it in you, we all saw that right away. You have a rather unique combination of submissiveness and ambition. It's not often we take on a personal client, we usually just take a cut from other companies - we broker the deals, pimp out their stars. But you, Matt, are special. And all you have to do is fuck your way to the top."
It was callous, but at least he was being honest. I knew I might be making a big mistake, but the hunger in my belly and the thought of returning home were just too much. And besides, I actually found myself starting to feel kind of liberated. I didn't mind kneeling naked in front of Steve - maybe he was right and I was submissive. I was certainly ambitious. I felt my cock start to twitch and swell, and blushed.
"I see you've made your decision. That's a good little bitch."
"Hey-" I started to protest but Steve cut me off.
"No, Matt, that's exactly what you are right now. You're nothing, bottom of the totem pole. There's rules to follow, and until you prove yourself, you're to be subservient to everyone above you. Everyone we represent or do business with is your master until you surpass them. And that's you're motivation to do better. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir" I said meekly.
"Good. I'm glad to see you understand"
"But who else is there? How many?" I asked.
"I see that ambition is already setting in" Steve laughed, "and that's none of your business right now. Bitches don't get to know that. Understand?"
"Yes sir."
"Good. Now be a good boy and go fetch Carl for me" Steve instructed.
I reached for my clothes but Steve shook his head. Burning with embarrassment I padded over to the door. It was still locked so I knocked. Carl opened it with a smile. He immediately grabbed hold of my dick, which I was surprised to realize stiffened up at his touch.
"He's yours to do with as you please Carl, but try not to take more than hour. He needs time to rest up. In two days he's doing a guest spot on Days of Our Lives and I need him in shape."
"Sure boss" Carl exclaimed in his usual extravagant manner.
I was conflicted... I couldn't believe this asshole was going to have his way with me, but then again - Days of Our Lives! I'd only just gotten representation and already I had a gig. Despite myself, I couldn't help but wonder if any of the guys on the show were with the agency... Carl led me by the dick to the room where I had first read over the scripts. Everyone who had sat in for my reading ws in the lobby and watched me go by. For some reason I wasn't nearly as embarrassed as I had been. Once in the room, I got my first lessons in sucking cock - and after a little while I really started to enjoy it. I was definitely starting to look forward to Days of Our Lives.............