By: J. "Butch" Raymond

My redheaded friend was lip-synching a popular love song as I walked into Club Tantalize, that seedy, smoky, little bar over on the Strip. He was doing it well. He had discovered, when once desperately in need of a good disguise, that cross-dressing gave him a kick. I believe only his makeup man and myself knew that under the clever rubber mask, heavy makeup, and layers of padded women's clothing stood the heartthrob of every straight woman and gay man in the country.

He was the reason I kept being drawn back to this sleazy club. After his show, we sometimes made out in his dressing room. I was getting it from the handsomest, sexiest actor in Hollywood, and neither of us wanted it to stop. How he dressed didn't matter to me. How my cock felt as it slid between those handsome lips or hard asscheeks was what made me keep coming back for more. How he took it was what made him so special. And his nice cock was becoming a great friend.

This evening, activity at the door diverted my attention. Malcolm Forths and his 'boys' were arriving. Their entrances always caused commotion. Malcolm was an award winning set designer/decorator with lots of money and a penchant for hung studs. He kept a stable of six of them around himself at all times. Even on the set, I was told. All of them, including Malcolm, dressed identically in white. All the time.

At six-two, Malcolm was the tallest. Each boy had to be handsome and had to be between the ages of eighteen and twenty-nine, but only if after twenty-five, he continued to look young enough to suit Malcolm. And, of course, each had to be exceptionally well endowed.

What struck me as odd, tonight, as they walked through the club like a flock of large white birds, flittering around Malcolm as chicks around a mother hen, was that I counted only five escorts.

I was standing at the bar. I'm large enough to be noticed, but I had thought Malcolm didn't know who I was. So I was surprised that when he glanced in my direction his eyes lit up and suddenly I found myself surrounded by him and his white flock.

'Butch!' Malcolm called out like he'd known me all his life. He came right up and gave me what I thought was going to be one of those fake fucking Hollywood hugs. Except that this was no fake hug, this time, it was what felt like a genuine hug of sincere warmth. Fuck, I hugged him back. I love hugs! Especially from a guy as big as I am and from a guy who likes cock as much as I do. And Malcolm filled the bill.

'I gotta talk to you, Butch,' he whispered into my ear as we hugged. His voice sounded tense and frightened. I'd heard that stress in men's voices too often not to know he had a problem and needed the services of a private eye. 'Meet me in my dressing room as I change for my number, okay?'

Yes, Malcolm was also well known as a cross-dresser of elegant demeanor. As a male, he carried himself with pride and dignity; as a female, with grace and charm. Either way, he had flair, style and charisma. Either way, he drew men like moths to a candle. His money didn't hurt either. But he was so openly gay I didn't think blackmail the reason for the worry in his voice.

The cloud of white floated away. I looked over to the stage. My actor friend had finished his set and vanished. He was almost the only performer there who arrived and departed in full drag. He had to. Everyone would have shit had they found out who he was - one of Hollywood's most macho, most moneymaking actors. But my success as private detective to the Hollywood gay set was due to my reputation for keeping my mouth shut. And everybody knew it.

When I saw Malcolm head for the dressing rooms, I moved to follow, noticing that, as usual, his entourage fanned out in all directions to play the crowd and ply for drinks. They were all good at it. Handsome young men who know they were chosen for good looks and big cocks move about confidently. Trust me on that.

Ken, whom I knew personally, intercepted me and said, 'We got trouble, Butch. I hope you can help us.'

'What's up?' I asked. I've always liked the phrase.

'Meet me in the can, and we'll talk about it.' Absently, his hand toyed with his crotch. It looked like a nicely obscene invitation and, knowing what lay beneath that white cloth, I grinned and said, 'Just as soon as I've talked to Malcolm.'


Malcolm was just taking off his white jacket when I walked in. For a conversation starter, and out of curiosity, I asked, 'Why do you guys always wear white, Malcolm?'

'If any of those little cocksuckers get down on their knees while we're out, I want to be able to see evidence of it on their soiled clothes,' he answered with a grin. 'White keeps 'em out of trouble, usually.'

'Usually,' I repeated, half as a statement, half as a question.

'The clever little fuckers never get caught, but I do catch the dumb little boners.' In time, I came to learn that he referred to his boys as cocksuckers when he was annoyed, fuckers when he was pleased, and boners when he was pissed off. But in any case, he referred to all of them as 'little' as his form of in-joke because we all knew they were hung like stallions.

'What's up?' I asked as he took off his pants. He was hanging everything neatly as he removed his clothes, stripping in front of me without embarrassment. He had a great physique, nicely tanned and finely toned. As the shirt came off and I saw he was wearing white bikini shorts, I wondered, idly, if this modest bump in the crotch would enlarge to meaty proportions or confirm that he was just another under-endowed size-queen.

'Ned, the one we all call 'Nine-Inch-Ned,' is missing,' he said with agitation as he removed his shorts. He was naked. Nice. Although he was facing me, I could see a triple reflection of his back in the dressing mirror. He had a muscular, firm butt, and though probably fifteen or twenty years older than me, I could see what his young guys could see in him. Working up a hardon to service that ass would be no problem, I was thinking as I felt movement in my pants. Face it, the guy was sexy. And being kept in style while servicing an ass like that couldn't be all bad.

He bent down to retrieve the shorts from the floor. His ass waved at me through the reflections, as I grunted, 'What do you mean, missing?'

He looked up at me without straightening up. His face was near my expanding crotch. 'I think something's happened to him but I'm afraid to involve the police.' His eyes were looking right at my pant's bulge.

'Do you want to hire me?' I asked, and, not surprisingly, as I thought of all the boys he'd hired for sexual services over the years, I got completely hard.

'Yes,' he sighed, still bent over, still flashing that fine ass at me through the mirror.

'Okay,' I said, whispering in my arousal. 'My usual fee.'

'Sure, but as a bonus for accepting the job, how'd you like to fuck me with this big thing,' and he reached out and slid knowing fingers against my stiff column taking its measure. 'Oooh,' he sighed, 'I'd heard you've got a big one! This,' he added, massaging the long tube, 'feels like one I'd like to get to know.'

I let him work his magic. For one thing, I was certain I was in good hands. Experience goes a long way in increasing a man's sexual pleasures and this guy had plenty of experience. So did I. For another, I was curious. I've got the size the size-queens are looking for, and since he is as active as anyone I know of in Hollywood, I wondered if he would be as skilled at handling size as I require for my own pleasures. Just being a size-queen does not qualify you for cocksucker-of-the-month, you know. Skill and talent still make all the difference.

Well, more than just my curiosity got satisfied in that dressing room. He had my cock out of my pants and down his throat before I could say, 'Suck my dick!' And he was good at it! Deep-throating a cock my size is not for the timid, or the inexperienced, or the untalented. He knew what to do with it and did it well. Took it in, all the way, right down to the balls.

Then he did something I'd never seen done before. He reached behind himself and grabbed something from the dressing table. He popped off my cock, put the thing in his mouth and then began sucking me again, but this time, I felt him slipping a condom down over my cock with his lips and tongue. It was a very erotic way of getting geared up for action. As he worked the over-sized latex completely down my thick shaft, he reached behind himself, again, and dipped a finger in some grease and then lubed his asshole as I watched in triplicate.

'Oh, man,' he said hoarsely, having slid his thick lips slowly up the length of my long dick, 'you are hot! Lemme have it!' And he turned sideways to the mirrors. He wanted me to step around and plug him while he watched. I couldn't blame him. It looked very sexy. He stayed bent over poking his ass out as my throbbing, rubber-sheathed schlong moved in for the attack.

'Mmmmm, you've got great control,' I whispered as I forced my big dick into him unceremoniously. He took it without a whimper. His chute was hot. It tightened around my meat from control not youth. I was able to pound it into him, slowly, to the hilt on the first assault. Within moments, we were fucking like mad. I undid my belt and pants and let them fall to the floor so I could feel my balls bang up against him. I pulled up my polo shirt so I could see my hair-decorated muscular abs pound his buttocks as I plugged him. The sight was arousing, both in the mirrors and looking down my body at it. And this was not a quick-as-a-bunny fuck. No, this was serious ass fucking which lasted a good long time. The way a good fuck ought to last. Till we were both puffing and perspiring. Till we were both ready to blast.

'Oh, man!' I hissed excitedly, 'I'm gonna shoot!'

'Give it to me, man. Fuck my ass. I'm gonna shoot with you!'

He was still bent over as I held tightly to his hips. I hadn't noticed, before, but he was beating his meat, although I couldn't see it. The idea of him coming with me energized me and I stif-fened and began shooting off. It was terrific. I shot and shot, filling the big condom.

As I pulled out, still squirming with the delights of orgasm, he straightened up and I saw a good-sized cock in his hand. It, too, was condom-coated. He'd slipped it on without my realizing it. 'Want to suck it?' he asked in an emotional whisper.

It looked too good to pass up. He was probably testing me, I figured, seeing if I was sensitive to other men's needs after my own orgasm, but I just dove down onto the big thing with great pleasure. It felt even larger than it looked. Before I could fully demonstrate my own creative talents by deep-throating that fucker, he stiffened and came. I felt the rubber swell and fill. I liked it. Cock is good.

We cleaned up next to one another at the sink. Basically, I stripped off the condom, washed my dick and balls, dried off and pulled up my pants. When he finished drying, he started strug-gling into his slinky outfit for the show.

'Come to the house at nine, tomorrow morning, Butch,' he instructed with a sincere smile. When I hesitated leaving he came over and gave me another one of those great hugs.


The bathroom seemed empty when I went looking for Ken. But suddenly I heard him clearing his throat for me. I found him in the old, unused shower stall hidden around a corner in the back of the decrepit former dressing room. His white clothes were hanging neatly on a hook. As my eyes grew accustomed to the dim lighting, I saw his nude body displayed for me. His erection was gigantic. Enormous. Perfect. His body exceptional. He was openly jacking off, getting ready for me, and enjoying himself during the wait.

I've always loved seeing a man jacking off. Just minutes after having an orgasm, I found myself quickly reinvigorated. One look at Ken, handsomest of the lot and hung like a porno star, and I knew he didn't want to talk. He wanted to fuck. In a flash, I was nude, too, my clothes hanging next to his. Silently, we moved about, like caged animals sniffing at one another looking for the advantage. Both of us now jacking stiff erections shiny with leaking excitement. When I touched his chest, he slid a hand around my waist, and we slammed into a belly-slapping embrace.

Stiff cock pressed stiff cock, proud in uncommon dimension. Lubed finger touched my puckered ass-lips. A rubber rolled down his giant weapon. Where these things came from I haven't a clue. Wordlessly, nibbling my flesh, playing with my nipples, he turned my obedient body around and slid the big cockhead between my willing cheeks. Man, it felt good! I wanted it. With his hands playing all parts of my body, I needed it. I pressed back for it. I had to have it. Cock! Big cock! It was all I could think about. And he knew it. And he gave it to me. Up the ass!

As he eased the huge cockknob into me, once again I realized I'm the biggest, closet size-queen in Hollywood. Nothing feels better than a truly large cockhead entering the rectum. I know it. You know it. We all know it. It's just that some of us are a little quieter about it than others. As Ken's huge thing slowly seared its heat into me, I wanted to sing for joy. But I didn't break the silence. Neither of us wanted Malcolm to show up.

Then Ken proved why he's a successful paid fucker. He bent me forward and pressed his body against mine, lovingly, as he inched his way into me, inch after inch after inch after inch after inch. It took time. He was gigantic. But even more inches were shoved in. I loved it, helping with the onslaught by shifting my hips and widening my stance. Then, he began fucking me. Really fucking me! Humping, jarring, slamming fucks that took my breath away and left me tingling from tip to toe. He jabbed and jarred, slapped me with his big balls and sizzled me with his hot skin. Hands were everywhere. Intensity increased. Motion increased. Fucking was raised to ecstatic levels. We became one animal together, my ass sucking for his orgasm, his body pumping to give it to me.

Finally, the silence was broken with his strained voice.

'Butch!' he whispered amorously. Then he came. And came. And came. And came. Like a machine spurting out packets of love. Stiffening with ecstasy, gasping for breath. Sliding that long cock in and out till he shuddered to a lurching end. It was superb.

I was ready to explode. His arms embraced me. He felt the wet tip of my cock against his forearm. The touch excited me and my cock throbbed against his hot skin. He moved his hand down, surrounded my thick column and gave a few knowing pumps. I stiffened. My cock turned to rigid steel. I came, spurting long jets of flashing white cum out into the darkness and against the old shower stall wall. Spurt after spurt after spurt. It was excellent. A standing fuck and a great handjob.

He handed me a warm, damp cloth to clean myself up with, and he had one for himself. I guess he planned ahead. As we dressed together, he whispered, 'Watch out for Malcolm. I think he's not telling all he knows.'

He was ready and left me standing there in a post-orgasmic daze, wondering what the hell he meant by that. Then I figured it out. He knew nothing. All he had really wanted to do was fuck. He was good at it and I was glad I came.


As I got clearance from the hunk that manned the gate house and drove slowly to the front entrance of Malcolm's mansion next morning, I wondered what cozy little side benefits a guard on the gate might receive working here. Thoughts of orgies and endless sex played in my mind, bulging my crotch. But he had called ahead and I saw Malcolm, in white shirt, trousers and shoes, standing out front waiting for me.

Behind him stood a muscled giant clad only in white jersey workout shorts. I say 'only' because at a mere glance I could tell he was not wearing a jock. Bulging, flowing lines in the soft garment accented a fat, long cock and humungus balls. The guy was a knockout, a breath-taker. My reaction was to get almost completely erect.

Malcolm grinned when he saw I was wearing a white tank top and white shorts, with sandals. I was ready for his kind of action, if necessary. And the first action was Malcolm's now very welcome hug. I hugged back. 'Oooh, you're hard!' he whispered.

Straight off, I said, 'I've been thinking about it, and I'm wondering if Nine-Inch-Ned's disappearance might not be linked to one of your audition prospects. That is how you select new boys, isn't it? By audition?' I cut right to the point.

'Yes,' he confirmed, 'and I've been wondering that, myself.'

'Well, let's pretend I'm one of the new prospects, and walk me through exactly what is done to process him. Okay?'

'Exactly?' the big bodyguard sputtered. His first word. He had a deep, rasping, sexy voice. Malcolm raised his eyebrows.

'Yeah, exactly. Lemme see how it's done. Maybe it'll give me a clue.'

'All right,' Malcolm agreed resignedly, 'but to pass each stage of the audition, you've gotta do what, Carl, here, tells you to do. Is that agreeable?'

'Oh! You mean you want me to try to pass the audition?'

'Try, certainly,' Malcolm confirmed as Carl nodded agreement, 'even though you'll fail.'

'How come?'

'You're as tall or taller than me,' Malcolm explained. 'I want my boys to be shorter than me. That puts you out of the running. But let's see how you do on the rest. After all, you just want to understand how this works. You're not applying for a position.'

'Right!' I agreed.

'Then follow Carl and do what he instructs you to do. I'll see you later, before you leave.' And he left the two of us standing there. Suddenly, I felt a little nervous, like stage fright. But Carl grinned and motioned me to follow. We went into the first side door we reached, just a step or two inside the mansion. The room we walked into was something else.

It was very large, with a high ceiling. One wall was completely mirrored and several full-length mirrors were on other walls. A large, well-detailed, lewd drawing, part circle-jerk, part daisy-chain, of ten muscular, hung hunks captured my attention and gave me a thrill, and several huge photographs of naked men decorated the walls. An unenclosed shower was in a tiled corner. Photographic equipment was set up in one area, and various lounges and sofas were placed about. Near the door was a table covered with dildoes, condoms, cock-rings, harnesses, lubes and other playthings for the active gay male.

'The first thing I do is give you a skin search, so let me get you out of these things,' my raspy voiced companion said, grabbing my tank top and tugging it up over my head. Before I could protest, had I wanted to, my shorts were off, my sandals gone, and I was naked. Then he really did search my skin.

'No scabs. No lesions. No cuts. No abrasions. No rashes. That one scar that looks like an old bullet wound,' he slowly ticked off as he examined every inch of my body from my scalp to my soles. I had to bend over and spread my buttocks for inspection. He lifted my balls and examined every millimeter of skin on and around them and on my cock, which kept expanding as it was being handled. 'Nice skin,' Carl acknowledged with a certain degree of admiration. Then he examined my fingernails, teeth, gums, mouth, ears, eyes, nose and hair. He was very thorough, with a gruffness that was somehow pleasant and a completeness that was very professional.

He led me to a table and said, 'Here we normally take a blood sample and then a urine sample.'

'So, do it,' I allowed, 'let's see the whole procedure.'

Without comment, he handed me a urinal. I took it in my left hand, so he took hold of my right arm, tied rubber tubing above my elbow, slapped at the veins and poked in a needle, undid the tubing, quickly drawing out two vials of blood, just like my family doctor. When he finished, he stepped back and waited, looking down at the unfilled urinal.

Being watched slows me down, as does being hard, but the bloodletting softened me and I realized I did have to pee, so I let the flow start. A golden stream filled the bottle.

'Hmmm, you take vitamins,' Carl commented recognizing the color.

I just grinned, shook off the last few drops in the neck of the bottle and handed it to him. 'What next?'

'Your first orgasm,' he replied calmly, and he handed me a beaker. 'We need a sample, so zip it in here. Okay?'

'Sure,' I agreed, 'any particular way you want me to do it?'

'Naw, just have fun. How do you usually like to jack-off? Reading? Watching a video? Listening to tapes? On the phone?' His bulge was enlarging as he watched my cock grow.

'My favorite method...' I said with a grin, pausing for his attention, which I clearly had, 'is bent over, sucking a cock so big that I couldn't do it kneeling.'

His only reaction was to fold his massive arms across his chest, plant his feet wider, and shift his hips forward, shoving that enlarging cock outline against the tightening material of his shorts. It was a subtle invitation I had no intention of resisting. I bent over, pulled down his shorts, and gasped.

Now, I've seen big ones, but this was a record-holder. A true jawbreaker. A mouthwatering sight to behold. I got rigid in a second, grabbed my cock for a good beating, and with the beaker in my free hand, leaned in to take a taste of this giant of a muscle man.

Like many men, his horsecock had a rubbery texture and a latex aftertaste that comes of constant condom usage by overactive sex drives. I love the taste! As I licked and lapped, the cockhead bloomed into a glowing crown of shining glory, lifting itself tall, expanding, filling, hardening. I worshiped its power and lusted after its potency. I filled my mouth with the cockhead and became the classic cocksucker: pumping my cock while sucking with all my skill and strength. His cock kept growing. It was spectacular!

I felt I had finally found a cock I was unable to handle. No deep-throating techniques nor training had prepared me for the growing monster-cock in my mouth. For the first time, I felt unequal to the task. But I loved it, anyway! The heat, taste, size and power of the cock I was sucking was overwhelming. My pleasures were multiplied by his happy humps into me. He was enjoying himself. I loved it. And the harder he got, and the harder he fucked that hefty organ into me, the better it felt and the deeper it penetrated.

It plugged my throat and stopped my breathing. A fraction further and I though it might cut off the blood supply to my brain by blocking the arteries in my neck. But the deeper the cockhead went, the better I liked it! He unfolded his arms and pressed both hands on my head. He liked it! It was getting to him! I worked even harder, all the while pumping my cock with full-length strokes. It was wonderful!

Suddenly, I knew I was going to cum. I couldn't wait for his orgasm, if he'd even have one. My cock was so fucking hard I wondered how I'd capture the cum in a beaker, but I aimed the bottle and held it over my cockslit. Just in time. Orgasm overtook my being and I vibrated at the pinnacle of rapture, sucking hard cock like the master cocksucker that I am.

Carl reacted to my energetic orgasmic-inspired attack. With a quick withdrawal, which I used to fill my lungs, he plunged back into my throat like a savage, forcing cock into me like I'd never felt before, and I came! Like rockets firing off. Blast after blast, sucking with everything I had. And he couldn't hold back.

Suddenly, semen seemed to spurt everywhere. Into my throat, up my nose, down my lips, out the side of my mouth. I just couldn't contain both the size of the cock and the force of the spurting sperm.

I knew as I came that I'd love to suck this cock, again. And often! I was grateful for this chance, but I knew I had to have more. It was my first truly megahunk Centerfold cock and nothing less would ever fully satisfy me again. I had not been sure that megahunk Centerfold cocks even existed until I had his. That's how I felt as I filled the bottle - to the brim.

He let me slurp and suck and drink down all of his jism. I think it surprised both of us. We all use rubbers as a matter of course, but once in a while a good old-fashioned blowjob just feels right. This one did. Finally, he pulled back, dazzled, long cocktube shining with spit and sperm. He looked magnificent. I held up the bottle to him. I saw his eyes open wide.

'Fuck!' he said as he took the bottle from my hand, 'No one ever filled it up, before! Jesus! Look what you done! What a load! And you made me come as you sucked me. That NEVER happens to me. I let these kids suck me for the fun of it, to give 'em a thrill as they jack-off, but they can't handle big meat and they never make me come. Shit, you sucked the fuck out of my cock! It was great! How'd you do it?' He looked delighted.

'Man, you've got the greatest cock I've ever had in my mouth,' I told him honestly, straightening up to look him in the eye. 'I want more of it! I gotta have more of it!' I was sincere.

'Well, we'll see,' he said gently. 'The next test is to fuck me and make me like it. Think you can do that?' He grinned.

'Where do ya want it?' I asked.

'I prefer lying on that bench, with my legs held in the air, taking it from the front. Does that sound good?' He held his breath.

'Sounds great!' I confirmed.

'Here,' he said, tossing me a condom, 'put this on.' He'd seen how large I am and the condom was the largest size. He turned and ambled towards the bench, giving me a view of the spectacular globes of his perfectly formed muscular ass. I realized that I'd be able to penetrate deeper from the front, since those thick globes would act as barriers from behind. Thinking about it, sizing him up, got me hot again. I easily rolled the rubber down my growing shaft. As I slipped into him,I found that he had the control I love and we had a terrific fuck. He moved his ass in trained ways that increased our pleasure. We took out time enjoying ourselves, but I just couldn't withhold my orgasm for long. As I came, he did too, looking both surprised and delighted.

Well, one step in the audition lead to another, including photographs of my cock both soft and hard for their records, and a total of four or-gasms. I'll just say that we ended up in front of the wall-sized mirror jacking-off to see if I could make it five in a row. That was their minimum morning requirement. At first I wasn't sure I'd pump out a fifth, because when ol' megacock hit my prostate for my third orgasm, I thought I had pumped out a week's worth of jism. That fuck was a record breaker.

As Carl watched me jacking-off it got him hot, again, and he joined me. Standing shoulder to shoulder with him in front of the mirror, naked, hard, beating our meat, was inspirational. It planted a memory in me that I'll use for jacking off the rest of my life. We looked spectacular.

Well into the jack-off, I suddenly saw a look of lust in Carl's eye and an offer in his body language and knew he wanted me to go down on him, again. As I leaned towards the gigantic cockknob his hand dropped away and he hissed, 'Yessss!'

His cockhead heat was amazing. I forced my mouth over the giant knob and sucked it into my mouth, and that's all it took. I went over the top. I came! Sending blasts of jism onto his nuts and thighs. The fiery liquid raised him up with me and he filled my mouth. This time, I was able to take all of it, swallowing often. It was excellent!

Moments later Malcolm entered the room beaming, flushed with post-coital coloring. He'd been watching, jacking off. It was obvious. 'Butch,' he cried out, effusively, 'if you were shorter, you'd have a new job. That was inspirational!'

'Thanks,' I said humbly, not hiding my nudity, 'Carl made it easy for me.' Carl beamed at me, grinning.

'Yes, it's a shame he's too tall, too,' Malcolm explained, 'but I don't know what I'd do without him. He's important to me.'

'So, tell me. Have any recent auditioners given you any trouble?'

'No. Not really. We see several every week. And, lately, we've had six back for second and third auditions...'

'Oh? Additional auditions? What are they like?' I had to ask, interrupting.

They both grinned.

'Solve this case, Butch, and I promise I'll invite you back for at least three more auditions. It's the most we give - four of them. And they're all different. The second is a group sex thing.' Malcolm seemed very pleased with me.

'So those six who came back all met your entourage, did they?'

'Yes, they did.'

'I'll start with them. Give me a list of their names and ad-dresses and I'll check them right away. Okay?'

'Well, all right,' Malcolm agreed, 'but I doubt they're involved. Each was so nice. Isn't that right, Carl?'

'Good boys,' Carl agreed. 'Sexy, every one of them.'

'Well, I'll check them out. It's a start.' I had no other ideas, anyway, and meeting six sexy guys was no deterrent.


I knocked. Muffled sounds came from within the apartment as if my knock was unexpected, unwanted and feared. Scurrying within and then silence. I knocked again. Slowly, the door opened a crack. The face matched the photo I'd been given.

'Stuart?' I asked, knowing it was he.

'Yes. What do you want?' he answered in a soft voice, confused, I imagine, that I knew who he was.

'May I come in? I have something I need to discuss with you privately. I don't think standing outside, here, is the best place to talk.' I grinned at him, disarmingly. All right, so I know I'm good looking and he's gay and I played on that to get him on my side. I use what few weapons I've got to solve cases, because I'm known as a rodless dick: I don't carry a gun.

He hesitated, but let me in by slowly opening the door wider. I walked in briskly before he could change his mind and found myself in the living room of a clean, nicely decorated apartment. I liked that. He was a handsome lad, handpicked by Malcolm so I knew he was well hung. At five-nine, he had a great build. He was even better looking than his photo.

'Malcolm asked me to check with some of the men he's met with recently...' I said, pausing to see how he'd react.

His eyes darted uncontrollably to the hallway. He caught himself and looked back into my eyes.

I turned my head and looked into the hallway and then looked back at him, waiting. The silence was deafening. I just waited.

'Yes, I met Malcolm,' he finally said, with apparent reluctance. He was the last on the list. At this point, each of the others had excitedly told me about the auditions and how much they had enjoyed them. They asked was I here for yet another audition and how could they help. I had to damn near bat them away from my fly, they were so eager to please. Stuart was acting completely differently.

'Ned is missing,' I said, simply.

He froze. I saw fear in his features. He looked everywhere but at me or down the hallway, again.

On a private dick's hunch, I called out in a friendly voice, 'Nine-Inch-Ned, get your ass out here, right now.'

Stuart looked shocked. But I immediately saw a shadow on the wall in the hallway, and then Ned came slowly towards us, looking terribly dejected.

'Go hide!' Stuart cried with alarm. Ned came up to us and put an arm around him. They were the same height. They looked like brothers, they were both so attractive.

'No. It's okay, Stu,' he said quietly. 'Malcolm was bound to find us - I mean, find me. There's nothing we can do. I'll have to go back. It's no use.'

Both looked so sad it touched my heart. It didn't take a genius to see that these two kids had fallen in love and wanted to stay together. It was dumb. I was sure of that. Malcolm paid the boys well, got them educated, found them real jobs with men who could appreciate them, gave them a future. Nine-Inch-Ned was giving up a life of ease for the risks of love. And, although Stuart didn't fully realize it yet, so was he. Somehow, I liked them both for it!

'I'll tell Malcolm it's time to hire himself another boy, if he still wants six of them,' I said.

They acted like they hadn't heard me.

'He's not a slave master, after all,' I added. 'Is he?' I asked.

Then, they looked shocked, looked at each other, grinned, looked at me and said, simultaneously, 'He/I can stay?'

'He never told you, you were a prisoner, did he? He's been very worried about you, fearful something bad had happened. He's not your Dad, or your Mom. He just wants to know you're okay.'

They both looked relieved.

'So I'll tell him you're okay, and I'll tell him to take Stuart's name off his list of potential playmates. I know he'll be disappointed on both counts. But, I know this for sure...' I paused.

'Yes?' the both asked, together. They'd become a matched set.

'...he'll find another boy to take your place.' I smiled.

They both smiled at me, nodding in agreement.

'Who are you?' Stuart asked.

'Just a private dick,' I answered, suddenly very proud of my profession. I knew what I'd get from Malcolm. An invitation to more auditions! And a BIG HUG!


Jack Sofelot


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