Tears stung Royale's eyes as he waited at the bus station. Two years of the best relationship imaginable had ended because of the shit he was in. Rather than tell Tyson the truth (Which he seriously couldn't; the less who knew the better), he honored Tyson's request that he get the fuck out of his life.

Setting up the Royale's Palace website was a stupid and fucked up thing to do, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He owed his crazy drug dealing cousin, Mike a grip. The worst thing in the world about having a fucked up secret that one other person knows is that other person can use it to black mail the hell out of you, which is what Mike had been doing for the past three months.

Many nights he lay in bed thinking how easy his life would be if he'd just kill Mike. He knew he could never do it, he'd made the fucked up mistake of taking a life once, and he could never do it again. The life he took in the summer of 2010 caused him his peace of mind, his dignity, and ultimately, the one thing he cherished the most, his relationship with Tyson.

Turning himself in wasn't even a safe option, especially now. The sight of the Grey Hound bus was depressing. Royale did not relish the destination that he was headed to.

Two years ago he swore that he would never return to Elizabeth City North Carolina, and certainly never step foot in BGB Studios. Never say Never.


"MM MMM MMM, Creame Royale." Grinned Kylo Cross from ear to ear. "I've had plenty of boys leave over the years, one as recent as three days ago, but you're the first to actually come back."

"I ain't gonna bullshit you, Kylo, I stepped away, tried the relationship thing and the legit nine to five, but it wasn't the life I wanted." Lied Royale. "This helps me lead the life I want; I'd much rather make a couple of grand from busting a nut than breaking my back."

"Smart thinking, but there is the matter of that other website featuring you and a certain one hit BGB wonder."

"The website has been disabled, besides variety is the spice of life, I'd rather get paid to fuck a lot of dudes than just fuck the same one over and over."

"Well, I'm willing to welcome you back into the family, but first you've gotta suck my dick." For the first time since the meeting began, Kylo wasn't smiling, he was dead serious. Royale was in no position to tell him to go fuck himself.

"Right now?" asked Royale

Kylo unfastened his black pinstriped Kenneth Cole slacks and let his long black shiny cock spring forward. "Right now," he said slouching in his leather chair with his arms resting behind his head.

Royale got down on his knees and took Kylo's massive pipe in his mouth. Sucking dick was not something Royale did regularly, but he knew that he had to put his heart and his soul into this blow job. This cock sucking was a matter of life or death.


Royale never wanted to enter the house. He'd done a lot of crazy shit with his cousin, Mike over the years, but breaking and entering was the one thing he had never fathomed. Prison had changed Mike. He came out pissed off and unforgiving, especially of Royale , who stupidly threw nearly a hundred grand worth of drugs over the Chowan River bridge , rather than stashing them in the woods or somewhere safe. Mike made it very clear that Royale owed him and he wanted his shit quick.

The only place he could remotely think would have that type of cash on hand was Kylo Cross's suave estate in Elizabeth City. Royale recalled that at one of Kylo's gentlemen parties the horny toad who'd paid for his services that night mentioned that Kylo kept a shit load of money in a suitcase under his bed. "Can you imagine that?" Laughed the nasty drunk bastard in between licks of Royale's asshole; all the fucken banks in North Caroline, and the son of a bitch keeps all that shit in a suit case under the bed."

Royale knew that on Fridays, Kylo was on the set until way past three in the morning trying to get the movies edited and uploaded by Saturday afternoon. His heart was in his throat as he and Mike managed to break into Kylo's home. Weird that a man with such lavish taste didn't think to have a security alarm.

"His bedroom is this way whispered Royale; let's just get the money and get the fuck out of here."

"You go get the money." Instructed Mike. I want to see what else of value old boy got around here."

"No," protested Royale. "It's bad enough we're taking his money_______

Mike's hand throttled Royale. Through the dimness of his flash light, Royale could see the evil that burned in his cousin's eyes. What had prison done to him?

"Understand me mother fucker. I am running this show, now do as I said, or I'm fucking you up, then I'm going to your boy friend's school, kidnap him ,and make him my bitch for a few day before I blow his brains out." Royale had no doubt his cousin meant every word of his threat. "Now go get my fucken money while I find some shit to sale."

Royale coughed and gagged for several minutes when Mike released the grip on his throat. It was the sound of Royale's coughing the woke the young boy who slept, unbeknownst to the two intruders only a fifty feet away on the living room couch. The coughing immediately startled him awake and made him clap his hands flooding the room with light and making waking the sleeping TV.

Before the two burglars had a chance to think, the boy, clad only in a jock strap sprang from the couch and went into full out assault mode on Mike and Royale. He managed to get a few good hits in on a startled Royale, but Mike was unfazed by his punches and sprawled the boy across the floor with one punch.

"Come on Mike let's go." Said Royale, figuring the boy was out cold.

"Go get my goddamn money." Raged Mike pulling his glock from the waist band off his jeans. Royale offered no further protest and went to retrieve the money, hoping that it would end the ordeal.

The boy began to stir, to Mike's sadistic delight. His dick had got hard while watching the boy struggle to regain consciousness. He could have fucked him while he was out cold, but he wouldn't have enjoyed it as much. Mike drug the boy to his feet and draped his still rubber legged body over the side of the couch. The jock strap provided him easy access to the beautiful brown skinned boy's nice round ass. The boy released a Banshee cry when Mike's swollen, thick dick head split the tightness of his asshole. Kylo had a big dick, but he'd never been rough with the boy. Mike was slamming in and out of the boy's ass mercilessly.

Royale could hear the rape from Kylo's room. He had found the money under the bed, but couldn't bear to go into the living room and see his cousin, whom he once admired brutally raping a kid who couldn't have been a day over 16. Kylo liked them young, and apparently so did his cousin Mike.

After what seemed like an eternity, Royale finally heard his cousin scream "Oh Shit I'm bout to bust!" before releasing a guttural bellow that damn near drowned out the boy's painful screech. Then all was silent except for the boy's sobbing.

The minute he entered returned to the living room, Royale was nauseated. Mike the arrogant fuck was actually sitting down smoking a blunt. The boy was still bent down over the sofa arm. The blood running down his legs reminded Royale of the sickening sex scene his lover, Tyson had endured with Tank Thrasher.

"Alright cuz let's go." He pleaded.

Mike blew out a cloud of smoke further filling the room with smell of chocolate thai. "We'll leave as soon as you kill this mother fucker"

"Mike come on, we got the money, you got a nut; let's just get while the getting's good."

"Mother fucker didn't I tell you about that shit!!!" thundered Mike. "I gave you a goddamn mother fucking order now follow it or your ass and his gonna die up in this mother fucker."

Mike tossed the glock to Royale as if it were a pack of chewing gum. For a second, Royale thought of taking Mike out; killing him before he had the chance to hurt somebody else. As much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn't kill Mike anymore than he could kill that poor boy that was still whimpering and draped across the couch.

"Shoot him or I'm sending some goons to get your boy; you think I'm playing mother fucker." Mike pulled out his cell phone to show he meant business. Royale didn't give him time to dial the number with his eyes closed he pressed the gun to the side of the boy's face and pulled the trigger. There was a wet pop followed by a loud "Goddamn!" shrieked by Mike. When Royale opened his eyes he saw Mike scampering out of the house with the suit case, and the image that haunted him to this day. Half of the boy's face was gone. The one eye that remained in tack seemed to be staring at him as if to ask "Why?"

The ringing telephone startled Royale. He pissed his pants as the voice on the answering machine said "Raul, Raul are you awake; It's me Kylo, I should be there in an hour honey. I'll bring you some honey vanilla Hagan Daze."

Finally able to move his legs, Royale bolted from the house just in time to catch Mike as he was backing out the drive way.

For the next two years, Royale went about his life as if he hadn't murdered a young man in cold blood. He did odd jobs, earned his GED, moved into an apartment with Tyson and lead a practically normal life. Three months ago, Mike, fresh off another prison stretch called him out of the blue. No formal salutations just "Where the fuck is my money?"

"Mike, I squared you two years ago."

"You squared me away for the money you fucked around and let get away, but you ain't gave me shit for keeping my mouth shut mother fucker; you forget I saw you commit murder and you and I both know that once it gets out, you won't even go to trial because Kylo Cross will have you killed for offing his prime piece of ass."

"Mike, I ain't got any money and I can't get back out there selling drugs or doing porn aging."

"I don't give a shit what you do; you've got three weeks to get some money in my hands or I'm calling the Elizabeth City PD and dropping a dime."

Left with no choice, Royale set up a website and begun filming he and Tyson' sexual episodes, which were damn, near freakier than the nastiest flick anybody could imagine.

Goddamn he'd fucked up. He'd lost the man he loved and now here he was sucking the cock of the man whose love he'd murdered.

Kylo busted in Royale's mouth filling the back of his throat with salty cream. "Next time, I'm going to fuck you." Stated Kylo as casually as "good morning" Royale left Kylo's office with the assurance that between Kylo, Mike or the BGB juggernaut detour, he was going to wind up fucked, and he wasn't going enjoy either scenario

Kylo Cross (The Boss)

In the summer of 1998, I turned thirty and made the decision that I would finally make money off the one thing I loved the most; watching beautiful young black boys fuck each other. I'd studied film production in college, and knew that the fastest way to distribute my work was to utilize the internet; which then was very new to most people. With the help of an old friend of mine from college, Cedric Payne, the white trash queen, I launched BGB. Fourteen years and millions of dollars lately the site is still up and doing well and BGB has branched off into the world of feature DVD and blurays, monthly pay per views, and gentlemen's parties. Yes, business is indeed booming.

If things couldn't get any better, Creame Royale, the versatile heart throb came crawling back after two years. I needed him back working for BGB as much as I need air in my lungs, but he will never know. Besides it's more fun making him "earn" his spot back.

He stepped out of my bathroom wearing only a towel. Beads of moisture glistened on his well sculpted body. Lord have mercy, if I had died right then and there, I would have been content having that as my last image on earth. My dick started to make a tent out of my chocolate brown satin top sheet. I was going to fuck Creame Royale, and enjoy every hot, nasty minute of it. This episode, the unbeknownst to him was being filmed, but it was for my eyes only. He let the towel fall to the floor. His dick wasn't fully hard yet and still it had length and girth. None of that mattered at the moment though, because I wanted that nice tight, bubble ass.

"Boy come and get this dick." I said flinging back thee sheets giving him a full view of my mighty rod. He made his way onto the bed and began sucking my dick even better than he had the day I hired him back. I see now why all the tops and bottoms at BGB were thrilled he was back, Royale had some skills. He was the first nigga I met who could take all my dick in his mouth and not so much as gag. When my dick was so fucken hard it didn't even look real, he looked at me with my dick in his hands and asked "Do you think a cat your age can really fuck me like I'm used to being fucked." Arrogant mother fucker, them's fighting words. In a matter of seconds I had him on his stomach pummeling his asshole. His moaning was music to my ears. I aimed to show him that a cat my age probably forgot more about fucking than he would ever know. I flipped him over onto his back and pushed his legs up above his head. I started hitting that ass real slow. I knew I was knocking it right because the mighty Creame Royale was crying and begging me not to stop fucking him so good. Just to further fuck with his mind, I stop for a few seconds and make him beg me to give him some more good dick. I lifted him up off the bed and stood in the middle of my bedroom and fucked him standing up with his legs wrapped around my waist. His dick was rock hard and scorching hot against my stomach as I bounced him up and down on my dick.

"Am I fucking you right?" I asked as I plowed deeper

"You -You're fucking me right "he whimpered "Goddamn you fucking me right." I sat back down on the bed with him still attached. Without having to be told, he began riding my dick cowboy style. His hard dick precum looked so good; I couldn't help myself from bending my head down and sucking him off while he rode. Hey! as good as he was working my dick, that was the least I could do. The harder my lips tugged on his dick, the tighter his asshole gripped mine. We were both about to cum. I rammed deep into his asshole and exploded; with a primal scream he filled my mouth. Goddamn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Did the old man do you right?" I asked sarcastically as I lit myself a Newport.

"I'ma go take a bath and jet." He said getting out of my bed and heading back to the bathroom. Just like I wasn't about to tell him how badly BGB needed him back, I wasn't about to tell him how badly I wished that he would just stay the night beside me. Fuck that shit; I got too much money and too much pride to ever let one of these internet fuck sluts get my emotions twisted.

Tyson King

Tyson's heart sank when for the first time outside the gas station; he noticed the missing person's poster. The boy McClary Kent, missing from Murfreesboro for six months now, had been one of his students. He showed a lot of promise in his work, then one day slightly before Halloween, he just stopped coming to school. Tyson figured he was 16 and just quit. It wasn't until now, that he didn't have his job or Royale to focus on did he start to notice things.

Tyson had just finished pumping his gas when a black, jacked up hummer blasting Jay Z pulled into the station. Tyson had seen the obnoxious vehicle plenty of times. It belonged to Royale's drug slinging cousin, Mike.

"Where Royale." He hollered over the loud ass music.

"What?" frowned Tyson. To the relief of Tyson and others in the gas station, Mike turned the fucken music down.

"I said where Royale?"

"I don't know." Shrugged Tyson. "I put his sorry ass out days ago, he hasn't even been back to get his fucken love seat."

"I'm spose to be getting that for him." Lied Mike. "He called and told me to get it he'd meet me over this way, but a brother is kinda in a rush, can I just follow you to the crib and get it now."

"Yea." Said Tyson, "The sooner you get it out the better; I don't want any more of his shit in my life." Tyson got into his car and signaled for Mike to follow him.

"So what happened between ya'll?" asked Mike as Tyson fished through his pockets for the keys to the apartment.

"I really don't want to discuss it." Said Tyson opening the door and going inside before Mike. He was barely over the thresh hole when he felt the punch connect with the back of his head and neck. He staggered forward two steps before his knees buckled and his whole world went black.

When he came to Mike was on top of him and inside him deep. He tried to get from under him,, but his efforts were met with fierce strikes to his face and head. Tyson attempted o scream hoping one of the neighbors would hear, but Mike clamped his hand over his mouth and nose stifling his scream and air supply. "Shut the fuck up." Hissed Mike. "I'ma get my nut whether you dead or alive, now you fucken choose."

Out of options, defeated, Tyson lay on the floor , for what seemed an eternity as Mike fucked his asshole and humiliated him with offensive homosexual slurs. Tyson cried out in pain when Mike's nut shot into his sore and torn ass , causing it to sting. Mike snatched out and shook his dick flinging cum remnants all over Tyson and the floor. He leaned into Tyson's ear. "You tell anybody, and you're a dead faggot." Tyson felt himself lose consciousness again. When he came to moments later, Mike was long gone, and Tyson was half naked on the floor , sore and bruised from head to foot with a crumpled hundred dollar bill in his hand.

McClary Kent (Formerly Max Millian).

"I am sorry." Said the fat white lady behind the desk. "You are handsome, but I don't think I could find work for you." I couldn't believe what the fuck I was hearing. There I was attempting to secure work on camera that didn't involve some muscle bound nigga nutting in my face , and this fat ugly bitch was telling me that I was wrong for her agency. How the hell can a fine ass young light skinned brother with acting and singing ability be wrong for an acting and modeling agency.

"I don't understand." I said "You've seen my pictures, I've sang and acted for you; what more do I have to do."

"First of all these pictures your little friends snapped with their camera phones are cute, but not professional, you need a portfolio. Second, your acting skills are average, and black males who sing like you are a dime a dozen; now maybe the next agency you audition for will lose its shit and hire you, but the Maude Maven agency can't use you; my advice to you is finish school."

"And my advice to you is lose about fifty fucken pounds" I snapped as I snatched my pictures out of her stubby hands and stormed out of her office . The fat fucken cunt! I wasted spent all my money just to fly across country to seek out the Maude Maven Agency. It was supposed to be the best in the country, but how he fuck could it make that claim when it couldn't recognize my star power.

On a light pole just outside of Maude Maven, there was a flier that read "Male Models Wanted; Make up to $15,000." I took the number down. It more than likely was a scam, but I was new in LA with limited funds and a dream. I would call and check it out.



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