My Last Movie

by Petr-Johan

19 Feb 2018 2233 readers Score 7.6 (40 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


You'd think for something like this they'd hurry it up a bit. This is their idea to a point and I'm in it for the money-what other reason could their be? They were so enthused when we came to our agreement, it was all signed and discussed, Christ, I thought from the way they acted, we'd do it that day. But...we didn't or the day after or the week after. Problem with the lights, with the camera man, with, hell, I've lost track of all the problems but in the world of diminishing returns, they'd about diminished. Kept in touch, oh they did that, but what was the point if what they were telling me was that there was really nothing to tell except, of course that their was a problem with something.

I reminded them that this was designed to be a money making project, they certainly knew that but, at this rate, no one was making any money and.....if I backed out, there would be no money to be made unless they could find someone to replace me and that was highly doubtful. Maybe for one or two parts of it but the whole thing? No. And I'd brought the project to them based on some of their work, the quality of their production values, the integrity of their product and they'd been just floored. Of course they wanted to work with me. Of course they could instantly see all the profit potential. Of course they would agree to my terms which, to tell you the truth, weren't very demanding. And then we started having “problems”. Finally I decided to run a little intervention of my own and asked them over for a beer and a status update. What they got was my status update, not theirs. In short I explained that I was fucking bored, either they wanted to do this or they could go stuff a turkey or themselves whichever they came to first. And my money was on them.

This whole thing was based on my deciding to get out of the skin trade. Fuck, I'm pushing forty and tired of pushing iron to keep the flab at bay and the Viagra at hand. Fifteen years of fucking everything that was shoved in front of me or under me and I'd had it. I'd had the sense to make sure that I would get some residuals and, as I got famous, also got producer credit when meant more back money. Also, I'm not stupid, I bought stocks and bonds and duplexes which I rented out, lived very simply myself, never had a boyfriend, shit when you're fucking every handsome ass West of the Mississippi, why bother to take one home at night? If I really wanted something on the side, meaning not on tape and for which I was not paid, all I had to do was walk in any bar or gym and make my selection. Fame gets you your choice of what you want and how you want it. And, why not tell it, I didn't make good money, I made fantastic money as a male whore for a very select few customers. A few celebrities who valued discretion, a few lawyers, who valued discretion, and a three star General who valued discretion so much he showed up dressed like a UPS driver. For a time there I thought we were going to role play but he got rid of that uniform, got down on the floor like a good little piggy and oinked to be bred. Good looking guy, too. Could have put him in some features where the emphasis was on seniors.

And I'd thought about that. Knew some guys in their sixties who were still plugging along, getting it up, spending every instant at the gym and had zip life for themselves but..oh yeah, they were making porn. What I wanted to do as a Senior, when I got that much older, was retire to some nice place that wasn't Key West or Weho or boys town in Chicago. I was looking for a nice place where the chances of my being known were very limited, get a job, wear my glasses, gain twenty pounds and drive an old pickup. I could, after all, go back and be an accountant which is what my degree was in from UCLA. Depending on how you look at it, that was either the beginning of one career and the end of another. I played intramural volley ball, some swimming and, as will happen, got noticed by someone looking for beef on the hoof. I said no the first ten times, partly because I thought it was funny to even be ask and partly because was irked at being ask. Eventually something reasonably legitimate came along and, remembering Tom Selleck had modeled underwear after USC took a print job for an underwear catalog. Not the sort Selleck had appeared in, no, he was in things like Penney's and Sears where as I paraded my body in a catalog called “His Things”. None of their bathing suits covered more than about two square feet of you and while they were revealing, they were not come hither. They were, as all that sort of catalog is, a come on to men who shouldn't wear those styles based on their weight and age but buy them anyway. Nothing is stranger looking than a size 3XL Thong in a camouflage print. I suppose if you wore underneath something it was okay but it was a waste of money. These were billed as “designer suits” and sold for around thirty dollars plus shipping and handling. You have to be awfully dumb to believe that a suit that weighs slightly more than two nickels costs ten dollars to ship but that's what they charged and did a huge business. Their clever marketing was a slick paper catalog that rivaled Neiman-Marcus or Saks in the presumed quality; You never thought you were buying from sleaze merchants although in effect you were.

My next step down was actually a big step up. One of the guys I routinely modeled with was from Germany and he got me into a very posh catalog done in Munich. Some of the artwork was so High Art that you didn't know they were selling anything. Jens and I got along, we worked together, worked out together and, after awhile, slept together. The trip to Germany was the cherry on the cake and I would have stayed but Jens decided to take a gig in Berlin and I went along-I could always pick up a job which is about what happened. He was going to do some very “artful” porn that was also very hard core S and M. He liked that, I did not but it was none of my business. I'd gone with him one day just to see what went on when the director asked me if I'd mind being tied up for some still shots, no genitals showing and, for an afternoon's work, why not? Also I saw what Jens was doing and that was waaaay beyond what I would have considered even considering. At one point, he had a line of needles in him down his chest, branching out to his nipples, then in a descent to the tip of his cock. There was blood, a small amount, at every piercing and Jens was loving it. Wanted me to fuck him while he was overall pierced and not even on camera. He just wanted a fuck. Would that turn your crank? I couldn't even get it up watching him. However, there was work of a sort around the studio and gradually I went from still life without cock and balls to still life with cock and balls to me with a shit eating grin on my face practically throwing my cock and balls in the reader's face. Live action was just on the other side of the studio. For my “debut” I got to first make out with Jens then fuck him until I came, pulling out just in time for him to eat my cum. I don't know what the title of that little episode was but I've no doubt it's still floating around somewhere. To my surprise, I was comfortable doing it, the cameras didn't bother me and the concept of what will the folks back home think never crossed my mind. My oh so nice Southern Baptist family wouldn't have known a pornographic picture if it had been painted on their garage. So much for embarrassing the family. Also as Jens got further into pain and bondage and whippings and on down the road our not quite affair just folded. I grew tired of spending an evening with him trying to get the swelling down or massage his arms to get the rope marks from his wrist. During which he told me what a high it was and I didn't know what I was missing....Perhaps so but I wasn't curious as to what I was missing even if it photographed beautifully. We went to a nice restaurant overlooking the Spree River, had dinner during which I told him that, reluctantly I was returning to the United States; In theory I'd negotiated a big contract with my underwear people and couldn't turn it down. He smiled with his deep set grays and talked about the next day when he was to be covered with spirits of Naphtha and set on fire. It was time to go.

I'd only half lied, at the airport I called the guys at “His Things” and was happily welcomed back. Only now, with my experiences in Germany, I found I'd graduated to more than just bathing wear to leather and rubber. I didn't mind it, the rubber was hot and how anyone found it titillating I'll never know but the leather was another story. I was tall and, in spite of a well defined gut, on the wiry side so me as a leather bound cowboy was almost type casting . After a catalog or two came out, one in which I was on the cover, there got to be some interest in me and less in the leather wear I was pushing. One or two of the mens porn studios contacted me, asked me to drop by, I did and heard some offers. None I took but one I countered, a surprise to the guys who were used the “models” as meat and not as business people. My offer surprised them in that I agreed to everything, not everything but. Also, I wanted to control how I was brought into the public eye and in what sort of films I would appear. This was so remarkable that I'm amazed they didn't call my bluff and say, “This is what we pay for this or this or that, take it or leave it.” We all shook hands and then....I pointed out that I had zip experience except in my private life. As the contract had no start date, I was going to take ten weeks off, and on my own nickle find a tutor who could turn me from handsome face on a magazine cover to a top stud. If they looked surprised, and they did, they didn't ask any questions. After all, they only paid me when I worked and if I took the time off, for whatever reason, so what? And, who knew? I might actually be right.

In advance of that signing, I'd been in contact with a man who for ten years had been as in demand, both by the public and the studios, as any guy working in gay porn. The interesting thing was he hadn't started until he was in his mid thirties and retired ten years after that and pretty much sank from view. Unless you knew his real name and where he was selling real estate, quite successfully, in Columbus, Ohio. Initially he'd not only said no but hell no. However pressure with the thumbs and covers from a magazine and some photo from Germany brought him round. What he agreed to do, at first, was give me a weekend, sort of an assessment of what I might be able to do and then he'd think about it. Fine. That weekend it was obvious to both of us that I could do it, all of it, and for an all cash fee of ten grand, he took sometime, off borrowed a cabin by a lake owned by a friend and we set up fuck school 101.102, 201and on up. Anyone can learn the physical basics, some may be a bit painful or require an agility one doesn't have but what the paying customers want to see I had; A good looking cock and nice meaty balls that while not low hangers compensated by being well formed, an easily seen nut on each side and, clearly, if you weighed them, there weren't many to the pound. When we weren't working he had me outside getting an allover tan which, in October wasn't easily done. We debated shaved versus natural versus sculpted which is what we finally settled on. If I learned every sexual position you can think of , and I did, I also learned the subtleties of taking it that one step beyond. He said never, ever accept a shoot in which you're supposed to be hurt, that diminishes you and you're always the dominant male. He practically wrote script for me that not only displayed me at my best but held the audience's interest. He told me which director to work with and which to avoid. He kept up on the business and foresaw that straight fuck films were going to be considered passe, boring in not too long and he pointed me to the films of Joe Gage as models of what to look for. (Subsequently and without their knowing it, he wrote the scenarios for many of my more successful films .) I wasn't popular with many of the guys because I'd declined to work with them. I only worked with two studios and did not glut the market with my work. Nothing was filmed in a rented room in a motel on the outskirts of Bakersfield although twice we slipped all we needed into the St. Regis in New York who would not have been happy to have known what was going on.

Then there was what I would do sexually which was everything. Piss on me, make you drink mine, get tied up chained up, wound up, crucified, or play a guy with a lawn mower that breaks down who has to ask his neighbor for help. And stays to fuck him, make him eat his cum, suck his toes...and all that just to get the lawnmower working again. Some of my favorites, only because they were easy to do and shoot, were ones where guys did things like play strip poker which became suck my dick poker followed by suck my ass poker. These were also films that men could identify with. More men than will probably admit have had some sort of minor homosexual experience. The most common being ended up without your clothes and finally since you're both doing it anyway, jacking each other off. Maybe more rarely, it would get to the blow stage but not often. That was reality in our version two guy, maybe a few more are playing card and it ends up with a suck 'n fuck session. But the first part probably resonates with the viewer as it's close to something they've done or have done. What they're seeing was what might have happened if they hadn't got embarrassed and quite when they did each one telling each other that it was all just a joke and everyone should forget it. In theory. And in a plaid flannel shirt some old Levi shorts and a T shirt pushing some team, I became them in that game betting that you can't or I wont' but, as portrayed on screen, we will and do.

But that was my career and I was through. What I wanted was the film that said beyond any question that I was out, Elvis had left the building, no more Lusifer Jones (My carefully created screen name) films this was the last one and My God was it a new departure in male porn; If only we could get it started.

Jens after a wildly successful career in the grimmest S&M films in Europe, and an international reputation is coming in for this for in an odd way he was the start of it and this is material he can do perfectly. My trainer buddy in Columbus wrote the outline but flat out refused to be there. And still there are problems. And finally I'd had it. Told them to close that studio for three days, keep everyone away, and I was dead serious about that, and we began to set up what was planned. Almost in black and white at first, it feature Jens and me dancing on a polished floor to some great Cole Porter tune. We're in Tuxedos, couldn't look more handsome and, as we dance he starts t play with me, undoes my ties, loosens the stud in my shirt and I do the same to him. We slowly strip until we're stark naked but still dancing. He has his hand supporting my balls, I'm licking and chewing his nipples. We pass a table where he picks up a pair of handcuffs which, with my arms behind me, he cuffs me. Although I haven't the use of my hands we dance and then I'm blindfolded, he whispers something in my ear I seem shocked but then relax onto his shoulder. Cuffed hands play with his ass and we move to a long, flat, high gloss white surface. The color is bleeding in now, flesh towns, the colors of the ropes and chains as they are applied. I'm released from the cuffs only to be spread eagled, even my cock is attached to a string from the ceiling. More covering is added to Jens, skin tight pants, a harness that almost prevents his breathing. A highly polished belt with implements hanging from it, he is aroused by all this. Standing on a level above me, absolutely rigid he masturbates into my mouth and then hops down and edges me until finally, it's a fountain and he takes his finger and wipes it across my chest offering it to me. I lap it up anxiously and then my mouth is sealed with two nails that form a cross. He kisses my closed lips, takes a knife from his belt and makes a few slices in them, drinks the blood...licks it until the bleeding stops. He moves south, my nipples is pierced many times with fine needles. He creates a zipper effect down my chest and abdomen leading to the top of my cock. It is pierced and then laid back on my abdomen where it is needled to my flesh. Only one sexual organ left, my testicles, he worships them, takes them in his mouth sucks them., teases them to grow just a little larger.

He is holding a scalpel. With it he draws a thin line all around the scrotum, it barely bleeds. Another line, deeper I'm reacting to the pain, another line and another and another and then with the slightest of pressure, the sad falls away revealing the testes, the ganglion of veins nerves that surround them. It' still not to late, I'm still a man, I'm screaming in pain and recognition of what may, what will happen. He select one, pulls on it the cord pulls out and almost like a chef chopping things in mid air, the slices the cord, catches the testes and stomps on it. The same fate for the other only he plays a bit longer after this I'm no longer a man, I'm a eunuch. He smiles vaguely, stretches out the cord ever further and then...there's a pop and there are two pieces. It's complete. Some blood leaks out of the place where once my balls were. He licks some of the blood and spits it on the needles sealing my mouth, my career is over.

Two years later Jens, my sex coach and I are sitting on the each of a beach. I'm holding a check in my hand and laughing at the amount. We always knew the first film of a male castration would to well but this well. ? And of course for the look of the thing I spent a vacation on Phuket Island having some surgery for which they are so well known. To look at pictures of my nuts five years ago and now...you couldn't the difference.

Jens stretches beautiful body and says.....”wonder how much we could make taking a cock ?” and looks at me. “Yes, I do wonder but ...I've retired but Jens....you have not....."


Author's Notes. Some may have noticed that I have a castration fetish; True. I  wrote a series of stories using that interest as a major part of the story. I also think humor goes nicely with fetishism and I've tried to supply a lighter touch. Hope you enjoy it that for some this is prime stroke material for others.....well, consider it a lesson in business economics.  PJ

by Petr-Johan

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