The Offer
by Wrestlr
9.
Jack surfaced from deep sleep one layer at a time: one eye opening, then both, then awareness, then consciousness. He sat up. He was in his bedroom, naked under the sheets. Alone. His body ached. His asshole burned. His dick and balls felt drained. What a fucking dream, he thought.
His stomach growled. He had really overslept. Carefully, he extracted himself from the sheets, stumbled into the bathroom to piss and shower. He pulled on his briefs, nothing else. No one would care—most of the men paraded around in less.
In the kitchen, Jack sat at the table, happily munching on his bowl of sugar-packed kids’ cereal. Ike walked in and passed around behind him on his way to the refrigerator. “Looking good today, baby,” Ike said, trailing a fingertip across Jack’s bare shoulders as he passed, and Jack blushed. As usual, Ike wore a jockstrap and nothing else. He pulled a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and took a swallow. “That was some show you put on this morning.”
“Show?”
“Yeah. The Doctor showed me some of the footage. He’s really pleased. Says you’re a natural. I knew you would be.”
Jack did not know what Ike meant, but he did not want to seem ignorant. He said, “Can I see?”
“Sure, baby.”
Ike led him to the computer in the utility room. At the desk, Ike clicked a few icons and a media player window opened. “I’ve still got some editing to do so it’s still kind of raw in spots, but trust me—the subscribers are gonna go ape-shit when they see you, baby.”
The player displayed a glowing white message that said the website viewers were about to see a just-turned-eighteen first timer lose his male-male virginity onscreen to one of their fan favorites. Then the scene itself began to play.
Onscreen, in what looked like a bland suburban bedroom, a cute blond boy wearing nothing but sweatpants walked over to a bed. Jack thought: That’s me.
After the blond was naked, a dark-haired man in shorts joined him. Jack thought: That’s Dylan.
Jack thought: That’s us—but it didn’t happen in a bedroom—it happened in a forest, with a clearing, and birds, and sunlight.
His stomach knotted as he realized: No, the Doctor only made me think it happened in a forest.
“How many subscribers did you say?” Jack asked, as he watched himself orgasm while Dylan chewed at his nipple.
“Not sure. I don’t get involved in that part. Enough to pay for us living here, I guess. When this scene gets posted, they’re gonna eat you up, baby, and still be hungry for more.”
“When does it get posted?”
“Tomorrow, after I’m done editing it.”
Jack felt ... uneasy—no, nauseous—fascinated—repulsed—too many things at once. He was unsure how to classify what he was feeling, but he knew he did not like it. “Where’s Dylan?”
But Jack was already stomping off and barely heard Ike say, “Out.”
Dylan wasn’t in his room. Jack went to the Doctor’s door and knocked. He tried the knob. Locked.
“What’s wrong, baby? The Doctor isn’t here. He’ll be back later. You already had your session this morning, remember?”
“I want you to delete that footage—right now!”
“But why, baby? You’re gonna be a star. Besides, this is just a copy for editing. There’re masters and backups nobody but the Doctor can get to.”
“Then you don’t touch that footage until I talk to the Doctor.”
“Uh, no can do, baby. I’ve got a deadline if that scene’s going online tomorrow.”
“Fuck!” Jack stormed upstairs to get dressed. He was going to find the police station and find Dylan. Dylan would know what to do.