The growl of the sliding metal door made me jump. Usually I hear Brian coming up the stairs two at a time, but this afternoon, I must have been too buried in my homework assignment to hear his approach. He always arrived from work looking mildly disheveled, having partially stripped out of his work clothes on the drive home- tie off, jacket over his shoulder, shirt unbuttoned to mid chest, his sunglasses perched on his forehead, and today was no exception. "Hey, Sonny-boy, you knew I'd be home about now- perched there looking like you're working." He always checked on my schoolwork since that time I almost dropped out.
"No, not faking it. Look at this," I said, holding up the computer-generated image of the torso of a hot, muscular guy reproduced from sketches taken in my Figure Class.
"Oh, you were missing me, I see," he said jokingly, because the guy in the picture was certainly more muscular than his toned, slender physique. "But you got the pecs right."
He dropped the mail on the desk. It was usually my job to collect it, but it hadn't been delivered when I arrived earlier. Some bills, some "ad-shit" (as Brian called it), and a rectangular package wrapped in brown paper. He saw me looking at it.
"Probably just another audition tape," he commented. (That's what he called the unsolicited jack-off video tapes guys occasionally mailed him; guys who had been trying to get his attention at Babylon. His reputation was well-known, and deserved.) "I haven't ordered any porn for months."
"You haven't needed to," I quipped, smiling. I picked up the package. Yes, it was probably a videotape- the right size and weight. It was addressed to "B. Kinney" in a clumsy printing that indicated someone wasn't trying to impress Brian with his neatness. There was no return address. I opened the brown paper. The box carried the label "PARTY BOY," again with no return address. It pays to advertise, I guess.
"Can we watch it after dinner?" I asked. "I always get a kick out of these guys mooning over you, and "mooning" AT you (remembering the most recent tape). I'm amazed at how blatant some guys can be."
"If you want to," he said nonchalantly. "I usually just throw 'em away or tape something over them."
We ate a quick meal that night. We both had work to do. But as I sat back down at the desk, I spied the videotape- and my curiosity got the best of me. "Ready for the Jerk-of-the-Day?" I asked.
"Yea, yea... jerk-OFF-of-the-day is more like it," he said, not very enthusiastically. I put the tape in the VCR, pushed the button and stepped back as the wide-screen TV flicked to life. By the time I got back to my chair, I could see that the tape had captured Brian's attention. Rock-music, a mingling group of guys, a few familiar voices- I knew immediately that it was Sap's party, just three nights before.
(Sap's voice, from a distance, apparently speaking to the camera man.) "Get plenty of the action," he said. "This should be good." There were murmurs of agreement.
I remembered seeing the video-cam guy at the party. I figured he was taking sexy shots to project on the screens at Babylon. Gary's parties were well-known for being outrageous. Suddenly, I saw the camera zoom-in through the crowd- and there I was, standing alone and looking a little tentative. It zoomed in for a close-up as Brian took notice.
"Hey, that's you," he said. "And there's Sap." Gary had walked up behind me and put both hands on my shoulders. "That bastard."
I remembered that moment. I had arrived at Gary's large, ultra-modern house in Highcliff with several of the other Babylon dancers; Pete had driven us from the club to his house just before closing time. A van-load of sweaty dancers is a heady experience. Saperstein's house was well away from his neighbors- for good reason- because you could hear the music from quite a distance. He obviously knew how to party.
I had been uncomfortable for the first few minutes I was there; most of the guests were older and unfamiliar, so I hung-out with Curt, Kenny, and Andre in one corner of the large living room.
The lights were low, the air smelled of cigarettes and weed, and the alcohol was flowing.
"Mingle," Gary said as he shoved his way through our little knot of youthfulness in a sea of middle-age. We separated and "mingled".
I recognized a few of the bouncers and bartenders from Babylon, and apparently there were a few from Gary's other clubs. Another group of familiar faces was clustered at the other end of the room. I heard someone say "the new guy" as I approached. An arm around my neck from behind surprised me. It was Todd, one of the principal dancers, already a little drunk- and shirtless. He nuzzled my neck and slid his hand along my side as I twisted to extricate myself. "You'd better be more friendly," he growled. "Sap didn't invite you just to stare." He move away unsteadily.
[All the guys called him "Sap"- but not to his face. The story, told to me in the dressing room my first night as a dancer, or the "un-dressing room" as we called it, was that a dancer once commented "a blowjob from Gary Saperstein is enough to sap any boy's strength"- and the nickname stuck.
There seemed to be this "thing" between Sap and Brian. Sap was always throwing his weight around, and he seemed to try to exert some sort of "ownership" over Brian- and we all knew, no one owns Brian Kinney. It apparently dated back to when Brian won the King-of-Babylon contest. [I looked up the date in Babylon's records- it was 1995.] They weren't outwardly hostile to each other, but there was something boiling beneath the surface.
I wandered around aimlessly, smiling and nodding to guests- trying to play the part of go-go-boy-turned-party-guest. In the darkness, hands occasionally reached out to stroke my waist or shoulder as I passed. At first I turned to look to see if it was someone I knew; but later, I realized they were just coping-a-feel. It felt good to be attractive, desirable, and aloof from the party.
The video showed that Sap had put his hands on my shoulders from behind- more blatant than the others' touches had been. He gave me a toke on his joint. It was clear that I was hesitant at first, but it was a party, so I took a drag. He said "Take your shirt off. That's why you're here- for decoration".
"Sleaze-ball," said Brian, talking to the TV.
Lots of the other dancers had their shirts off by now. Kenny and Andre were already caressing each other like they sometimes did in the dressing room. I remember feeling a little self-conscious, but not that much, because I had sorta become accustomed to it over the last week- dancing in my cotton briefs at the club. Some of these guys had probably stuffed bills in my pouch while they sneaked-a-peek. "That's better," said Gary as his hand slid up my back and lingered a few seconds under my shoulder blade.
"Your little friend here needs a drink," said a guy who approached. "Why don't you offer him one?"
"Later," Sap said- as if I couldn't just go over to the bar any time I wanted-to, to ask Tom for something. Surely no one would ask for my ID here. The guy nodded and continued through the crowd after giving me a grinning look up and down. He was kinda sleazy- an overweight guy with bad teeth. "That's Eddy," Sap said nodding at his back. "He thinks you're hot." I smiled weakly at the compliment and drifted away from Gary.
Usually, marijuana just gave me a nice buzz and relaxed me a bit. But the stuff Sap was smoking was high-powered; maybe it was even "dusted". I had tried PCP once at a school party and it had almost made me sick, but that night it just made me more relaxed and a little woozy- more like a couple of drinks.
I continued to move through the crowd- a little more unsteadily now. The living room was a maze of bodies; you had to be careful not to step on someone sitting or lying on the thick oriental rug.
"Did that fucker slip you something?" Brian asked, leaning forward now. He had watched quietly up until now. "You look dazed," and he was right.
"Can we shut this off?" I asked. "It's not what we thought it was- and I didn't know I was being filmed- and I don't want to see this." I had vague memories of some of what followed, and I was embarrassed for Brian to see me like this.
"Leave it on," he said. "I want to see this. And somebody wants ME to see this or they wouldn't have sent it. You were so fucking stupid to go to Sap's party. Just sit there and watch yourself get wasted." It wasn't the "wasting" I was worried about. "There's a lesson to be learned here- and this videotape can help you remember." [A veiled reference to his frustration that I was still unable to remember the prom or the bashing.]
The video camera image scanned the party; young guys on older guys' laps, some heavy-duty kissing in the corner, a pair of boys lying on the floor with hands in each other's briefs. And then you could hear Sap's voice again. "Keep an eye on him, the Party-Boy," he said- and the camera swung slowly to follow me as I wandered through a forest of hands and arms stroking my body. I seemed oblivious to the touches.
I moved more broadly around the party now. Kenny was having his Levis shucked-off, and I watched long enough to see one of the older guys go down on him. Someone was holding him up from behind, so I could tell he was even more "relaxed" than I was. Jere was leaning straight-armed against the wall while a guy slid his fingers up and down his ass-crack, lubing him with something.
And I found Curt in an adjacent room already stripped naked and dancing slowly to his own rhythm for a circle of admirers. That feeling of confident well-being spread through my body- the first signs that inhibitions are subsiding. The room seemed to expand; my senses were enhanced, every touch felt like a caress. I felt hands stroke across my chest. Someone embraced me from behind- it almost felt like Brian kissing my neck. It made me smile. Someone pulled me down onto one of the sofas and tried to climb atop me, but I wiggled away. The entire party was becoming like my image of an orgy; guys changing partners- in two and threes- sounds of pleasure- a stifling heat. The throb of the music was all I could hear, not the melody. Or was that the blood rushing in my ears?
One room, off to the side, seemed to be attracting a lot of attention, so I made my way to the doorway. It was a large room with several slings- something I had only seen briefly through a doorway at the baths with Brian- and then he kept me out of that room. As I stood there looking in, I was blocking the door, and several guys behind me started to shove me into the room, but I twisted to the side and let them pass. Maybe later I'd explore there, but it made me a little apprehensive to walk in there alone. I headed back to the living room.
More guests had arrived; the bars had closed. The air was heavy with testosterone, like the back-room at the baths. It became harder and harder to mingle, but Sap was watching me, so I kept moving slowly. At one point I stumbled against a glass-topped table laid-out like a drug banquet buffet- lines of Coke so numerous that several guys could partake at a time. At the time, the idea seemed perfectly natural.
The camera caught me inhaling the dust and brushing my nose from the tickle.
"Not a good idea," Brian said, as if he were criticizing a porn movie. "Weed and Coke- go for broke." He glanced my way as if to chastise me, even though I'd seen him do it many times.
Within minutes my hesitancies disappeared and I resumed making my way through the crowd using my hands on guys as I passed. I could feel my cock swelling in my tight pants, anxious to be free. Coke always gave me a rush of sexual arousal, just like a look at Brian, naked. I brushed my groin, unconsciously, with my hand and saw several men watching me. I smiled at them. These guys were OK; some of them looked damned good. The video showed me dancing to the music with subtle motions; I have no memory of it. I just remember the feeling of well-being and relaxation surging through my body as if I were being dipped in warm wax.
My second-by-second memory stops here. The rest is just a series of momentary sensations triggered by the continuing video.
"You look kinda thirsty," Sap said as he approached with a glass. Suddenly I was; I hadn't had anything to drink yet, if I remember correctly. "Thanks," I said, sipping heavily.
"Always so polite. Fuck! I can just imagine what's in THAT," said Brian, getting more agitated. He rose from his chair and started to pace, but never took his eyes off the screen. "I'll bet that fucker's giving you roofies- `Rope'. How many times have I told you never to drink something you didn't watch being poured into an empty glass?" He was angry with me now, although I was beyond any responsibility for what was happening to me or capability of remembering his instructions. He sat down again, determined to watch the entire tape. "This isn't some high school prank; this is deadly fucking serious. It's ten times more powerful than Valium."
The drink was unfamiliar and kinda sweet, like flat ginger ale with no ice. But it was wet and I was thirsty. Some of dribbled down my chin and dripped onto my chest.
"You haven't seen my place," Sap continued. "I'll show you around." His hand on the back of my neck turned me to the left toward the room I hadn't explored. In the video, it was clear that the camera-guy knew exactly where we were going, because he was already positioned to follow the action.
Everything was swirling now- distorted- confused. I vaguely remember the smell of leather, poppers, sweat, and the faint aroma of shit. From behind, Sap guided me into the center of the room, placed his hands on my shoulders, and spun me toward a sling with a naked boy in it. I didn't recognize him then, nor did I recognize him in the video. He was surrounded by naked guys stroking him, pinching his nipples, or jacking their cocks over him; someone was hunched over his cock, probably sucking him. His eyes were dark; his body was covered with a sheen of sweat, and he was moaning audibly. "He looks like he's having a good time," Sap whispered hoarsely in my ear. "Ever been in a sling? Oh, you'd love it. Come on, why don't you give it a try?"
Eddy appeared out of nowhere with his hand on my side. He replaced Sap behind me and wrapped his fat arms around my chest. You can see me slump in the video, as Sap unzipped my pants and pulled them open.
I managed to say "I don't want to. I DON'T WANT TO!!" Eddy began to squeeze the breath out of me. I felt a hand closing around my cock and balls. I sank into Eddy's arms. The next thing I remember was looking down to see Sap mouthing my cock.
The video shows me raising one knee to catch him under the chin. It was a reflex. "I said I DON'T WANT TO!" I shouted, as I tried to escape.
I remember staggering toward the door, but my pants had fallen around my knees, and when one of the bigger guys blind-sided me from the left, I went down hard. There was a struggle. I remember biting someone. The video lost track of the action for a moment, and the next view showed me with my face pressed against the floor with four guys on top of me. I came up off the floor with someone's arms around my chest from behind,- a bare chest against my shoulder blades, and my knees and thighs surrounded by strong arms. I remember a floating feeling as I was carried to the sling- my pants were stripped off while the arms continued to immobilize my legs.
"You're fucked now," Brian said matter-of-factly. He sank back in his chair and thrust his legs out, digging his heels into the floor, resolved to watch it to the bitter end. He glared at the screen, unable to avert his eyes to glare at ME.
"Get the fucker out of there," Sap yelled. The boy in the sling was un-cuffed and practically flung to the floor. I felt the still-warm leather against my back; my arms were stretched up and my wrists were cuffed to the chains supporting the sling at my shoulders; I could feel the chrome-plated chain against my inner-forearms. My legs were spread roughly by pairs of hands on each calf, and then my ankles were surrounded by wide leather cuffs supported by chains from the ceiling. I struggled against the bondage, lifting my ass from the swaying leather sling, but all I could do was to settle back onto its sweaty blackness. Hands stroked my outer thighs- pressed me down onto the sling- subdued my shoulders.
I remember a bright light suddenly shining down into my eyes. In the video my body is starkly lit in the darkness. Shadows of the backs of naked men surrounded the sling until someone made them move back to make way for the camera.
Sap's voice in the background: "Eddy gets first shot at the `King of Babylon' and Brian's boy-toy." And in a softer voice said: "That should pay-off the debt I owe you."
"So, you're a gambling chit- a policeman's-protection pay-off- or a health-code-violation bribe. He doesn't even want you for himself," Brian snarled. "You were set-up from Day-One." I sank into my chair, not knowing exactly what was coming.
Eddy was naked now- not a pretty sight. His torso loomed between my spread legs as I lifted my head trying to free my wrists from the cuffs. Strong hands pressed me back down onto the sling. I could feel something being slathered over my ass-crack, and the vague pressure of something over my hole. For a split-second I saw Brian's face, I remember, as if we were together under the blue lights- but the reality of Eddy came flooding back. The sensation was as if it was happening to someone else and I was watching it. I felt his cock slide into me almost without effort- without much sensation. The sling jolted as he slammed into me. I remember the sensation of the bright light above me shaking and burning a jagged image into my retinas. The murmuring of voices filled my ears- "fuck-boy", "Brian's twink", "fuck his boy-ass". I felt as if I were floating, suspended, and disconnected.
"What a scuz," Brian said under his breath. "He's old enough to be your father." Someone else blocked the camera's view for a moment, then he stepped behind my head and began adjusting the sling behind my shoulders.
I remembered this moment. Suddenly my head had no support; I felt as if I were falling backwards, until my neck snapped to rigidity and my back arched to absorb the weight. Then thumbs in the corners of my mouth- the taste of his saltiness- as he pried open my jaw. I tried to bite, but my muscles moved in slow-motion- my jaw hung slack. I closed my eyes. His thumbs were replaced by something else- semi-soft at first, then rigid as it snaked into my throat, only to be withdrawn and thrust again. I opened my eyes as his interlocked fingers gripped my chin, holding my head back in position so his cock could slide full-stroke into my throat. I gagged the first few times. I remember being unable to breathe. The sensations came flooding back as I watched the video- his ball-sac slathering back and forth over my face- the upside-down view of his muscular torso- it was Todd- the sensation of being penetrated simultaneously, mouth and ass- the shouts of "fuck him harder" and "ram it into him."
It was hard to make out what was happening for almost a minute as the cameraman was jostled and the view was blocked by naked shoulders and backs. Everyone seemed to be crowding closer to watch.
Brian gripped the arms of his chair, almost as if he were going to rise to turn it off- then turned to me as if to reassure himself that I was OK, then turned back to watch the screen. If it were someone else on the screen, he'd be enjoying this.
I thought the first splash on my shoulder was spit- or Todd's dripping saliva. I couldn't lift my head to see; my head was still tilted back at almost a 90-degree angle to straighten the path for Todd's dick, and my only view was between his legs, upside-down. The sensation in my ass suddenly stopped and I heard Eddy yell incoherently. And then there was a feeling of emptiness, followed by another penetration, this time by a bigger cock. I floated on the boarder of consciousness. Rough hands spread something sticky over my chest and abs as more fluid pelted my torso like large raindrops. Time slowed down- or stopped. I was jolted back to consciousness by sharp pains in my nipples- but then, as the twisting and pulling continued, I became immune to the pain. But my cock was hard. I could feel something tight surrounding it- pumping it- milking it. All of these memories come and go- intermingling- a swirl of sensations unconnected to events.
"Just thinking of what coulda happened," Brian murmured. "Why didn't you tell me when I got home the next day? Fucking over-night in jail." I started to explain, but he was riveted to the screen again. His occasional glances, like dagger-throws, suggested that I just sit and watch.
My head was finally lifted back up and the neck support buckled back into place. They wanted me to see what was happening, I suppose. The images ran together at this point- the faces and torsos of men appearing between my spread thighs- morphed one-to-the-next- repeated fucks, like waves against the shore. [I have experienced this sensation twice since then, in dreams.]
A line formed- guys were called from the living room to watch or to participate. "This one's for you, Brian-Baby!" one guy snarled into the camera before he took his place.
I tried to yell something- I've forgotten what, and it was muffled on the videotape. Then someone stretched a wide piece of duct tape over my mouth. The close-up of my face shows that I was afraid. Sweat gleamed on my body; droplets ran into my eyes, blinding me momentarily.
"I know him," Brian muttered as if he was keeping score. "That's nine who've had you so far, and..." his voice trailed off as Kenny was dragged into position.
Kenny was naked and almost in the same drugged-state I was. His wrists were cuffed behind his back, held up by a tight leather collar around his throat; his cock and balls were bound with tight rope. Someone held him in place as they pressed his stiff cock into me; then they made him stand there, leaning against my inner thighs for support while they lashed his ass to make him fuck me. His thrusts were more like convulsions. I think he collapsed before he shot. You could hear Sap telling someone to drag him into the other room- and then Sap stepped into place.
I remember Sap- the smile on his face- the drugged look of compulsion, the desire to hurt me. Even in my stupor, that registered. He began like all the others; the only thing that made his attack different was that he gripped the chains supporting my shoulders and pulled me onto him to match the power of his thrusts. The sling began to sway in time with his grunts; then he stepped forward, swinging me back and upward, letting my whole weight rest on the shaft in my ass. I barely felt his intrusion; in fact, the emptiness between assaults was more memorable than the feeling of fullness. I have a memory of his fist gripping my cock, using it as a "handle" to pull my body onto him. He probably came,- I don't remember.
The camera recorded a close-up of my dripping hole and the pool of cum on the floor that had drained from me. "Jeezuz," Brian whispered as his chin sank to his chest. His jaw was set and he watched the screen with lowered head and glowering eyes. He was thinking "revenge"- I could tell. He was thinking "AIDS", and so was I.
"I'm OK," I said trying to reassure him. "I douched... and there was no bleeding, and..."
He silenced me with an upraised hand. "You're seeing a doctor tomorrow- for an exam and an AIDS test as soon as it'll be detectable. Skip your classes. I'll take the day off."
Sap was sucking my cock now. The camera zoomed in to show his lips sliding on my shaft. Then my body was jolted almost off-screen. I clenched my teeth as I remembered the thrust.
He had shown it to me before he used it. At first, as he lifted it between my legs, I imagined it was his cock, enormously hard again- but then I saw that it was a realistic, rubber dildo with a long handle. Realistic in shape, that is, but not in size. The first thrust was painful, even in my semi-conscious state- but I lay back and closed my eyes and tried to sink into the welcoming blackness- the rushing sound in my ears like a flock of pigeons taking flight- the tingling sensation that crept over my skin- the sudden, flashing fireworks in the black sky of my oblivion.
You could see, in the video, that I had cum. Sap swallowed hard, smiled at the camera, and sucked some more. As he stood, the video recorded the removal of the dildo as it zoomed-in to show a red-rimmed "O" still gaping open, pulsating; you could see the angry red interior disappearing into the darkness of my rectum. It lingered there as the crowd applauded; we couldn't see what Sap was doing with the dildo.
The video ended here, mercifully out of tape- two hours from beginning to end. Or perhaps four; I needed to check the recording speed. The VCR automatically rewound while Brian continued to look at the blank screen. I couldn't tell if he was angry with me.
He had plenty of reasons- my assent to attend Sap's party in the first place, my lack of caution with the drugs I knowingly consumed, my stupidity in accepting that drink- or, perhaps even more damning, my hesitance to tell Brian what had really happened.
`````
My next memory was waking up in the car with someone slapping my face, "Wake up, asswipe- you're home." Someone opened the door and I tumbled out onto the street in front of Number 6 Tremont. Luckily, someone threw my pants out of the car as it sped away so I could retrieve the keys to open the front door. I don't remember seeing anyone on the street; the sky was getting light.
I practically crawled up the stairs. I opened the door as quietly as possible so Brian wouldn't know when I came in. What would he think? I couldn't tell him; he'd kill Sap. Or he'd be disappointed in me. Or both.
But as I crept past the bedroom, I realized that he wasn't there. I was relieved and worried at the same time. Relieved that I didn't have to explain why I was coming in at- God!, it was after 5:30. But worried that it was unusual for him to stay out all night, even before our agreement; he always brought guys here. Something must have happened to him- too.
I cleaned myself up as best I could. Still woozy from whatever was in that drink- I wasn't numb enough to ignore the burning sensation in my ass. There was no bleeding, but I was raw and chafed. My knee and elbow were cut from the tumble onto the street. I showered quickly, supporting myself with two hands on the glass walls of the shower enclosure. I could wash off the dirt and the cum- but I still felt dirty and violated. Without drying myself, I slipped into bed; I must have fallen asleep instantly. And when I awoke around 11, there was still no sign of Brian- until he arrived with his story of being in jail all night.
He rose without saying anything and stepped toward me. I rose too, not knowing why. He looked at me as if he were seeing me for the first time- as if he had erased everything that had come before and he was glimpsing me on Liberty Avenue. He took another step and reached for my hand, then slowly pulled me against him. He encircled me with his arms slowly- as if the moment were a slow-motion video. I put my hands on his waist as he held me close, not kissing me, not saying a word- just accepting me and protecting me. When I looked up, his eyes were closed, as if he were blocking out the memory of what he had seen.
We stood motionlessly in the middle of the room for several minutes, breathing in unison and experiencing the closeness. And then he led me to the bedroom. We undressed silently on opposite sides of the large bed and climbed in to meet in the center, only to resume the same gentle caresses we had shared in a vertical position only a few minutes before. Still wordlessly, Brian reached for the sheet and blanket and pulled them over us as if to cut us off from the rest of the Universe. I slept in his arms.
Postscript: It didn't make it into the Post-Gazette, the Tribune-Review, or even any of the smaller northern-suburban newspapers, but it was certainly the talk of Babylon and Liberty Avenue. Gary Saperstein had been working after-hours one night last week- "interviewing a hunky, new dancer," one of the bartenders reported- and he was found the next morning, tied-up in his office- wrapped round-and-round with videotape- wearing a gag and a sign saying "PARTYBOY"- and some say he had a dildo shoved up his ass as big as the mast on Fifth Avenue Place. Sap apparently refused to call the police once he was freed. And one of his bouncers reported that the videotape was blank or had been erased. The word on the street was that it was organized crime threatening his ventures into pornography. But a few guests at his most recent party thought they knew the reason; if not the perpetrator.
The End.