Intergalactic Porn Star Pt. 04

And I had some empathy for the guy. He was trapped in a role he hated. The others seemed to accept it, but for him, every day he went without switching was like trying to walk on two broken legs.

*

By the time I got back to my cell, Ash was asleep on his bunk. On his bunk. He'd moved his mattress back.

I nudged him with my knee as the staffer locked the door behind me.

"Hey."

He rolled towards the wall as I walked past him, busting to take a piss.

"Come on Ash," I said, as I used the hygiene unit at the end of our cell, "You know I did you a favour."

He wrapped his arms around himself and nestled into his one inch of foam, telling me he was busy sleeping.

I couldn't let him do that. Harvey was right, he needed ground rules. He needed to trust that I'd be his discipline when he couldn't keep it together, which meant I couldn't let him get away with any show of disrespect.

I sat back on my bunk.

"Okay, let me put it another way. We're going to talk about this now, and when we're done, you're sleeping back on floor."

He rolled back to me, rage in his eyes.

"I trusted you and you humiliated me!" He looked seriously upset. "I thought you were different."

"Why?"

His jaw dropped open.

"Because I let you fuck me?" I asked. I gave him a half-smile. "Ash, I'm not going to let you manipulate me. I'm not going to let anyone manipulate me. Not you, not the network."

His fire weaker now, he said, "You're still an asshole."

Oh yes. Yes, I was, from his perspective. I had to be, or his crazy would eat us both alive.

I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees. "You're gonna need to keep a lid on all this rebellious shit, or we're not going to make it through the next two years."

His lip lifted in a sneer, and I held up a hand. "Think before you speak, Ash. There's just you and me in this cell, and I don't think anyone cares what happens to you at this point."

He sat up on his bunk and I noticed he was shivering. He couldn't be cold—this place was never cold.

"Talk to me," I said. "What's biting your ass? Why are you acting like a little bitch all of a sudden?"

His shoulder slumped, and when he looked up at me, his green eyes were glossy with misery.

"I'm so fucking done with this place. I've got nothing."

"What do you mean?"

He laughed bitterly and pointed to himself.

"I haven't owned clothes in two years. I'm one of the network's 'top performers' according to you, but I couldn't even afford to go home at the end of my contract. They make sure I'm horny all the time, but if I want sex, I have to get fucked the way the network wants me to get fucked, even on my own time. I want, the fuck, out of here!"

"Keep your voice down!"

"And you lot." He was getting into his rant now, his eyes shiny with rage. "Every time one of you fucks smirks at me and tells me what to do, I want to tear your fucking balls off!"

Jee-sus. This wasn't acting. This was a man close to losing his shit.

"Two years," he said, spit flecking his lips, tears shuddering against his lashes. "Two more years of this hell."

Well, I'd been through plenty of drama with my younger brother.

I sighed through my nose. "Which part of it's hell, specifically? You telling me you don't like getting fucked? 'Cause if you are, I don't believe you."

He wrapped his arms across his skinny chest and closed his eyes.

"I want to see the sun. I want fresh air that moves. I want the smell of trees and dirt. Earth dirt." His eyes opened again, shimmering in the low pelmet lighting. "I want someone to love."

Jesus Christ, he was a walking wound.

Harvey was wrong, keeping him here wasn't doing him any favours. He needed to go home before his mental state got any worse.

I decided to find someone else to talk to, someone who'd care if an IGPN employee went insane. In the meantime, all I could do was manage him closely to make sure he didn't put a fork through one of my friends' nuts.

I pulled his arms away from his chest, forcing him to open himself to me.

"Come on, Ash, it's not that bad. Two years isn't that long, and when you're done, and your account's stacked with credits, you can have all the sunlight, and air, and fucking trees you want."

The rest of it I couldn't promise him. That was up to him. But looking at him, the mess this place had made of him, I didn't like his chances.

"I fucking hate—"

"I don't care. Right here, right now, let's make an agreement. I'll take care of you, as long as you do as you're told. Which means doing what the network tells you to do."

At least until I could figure out a way to get him home.

"What do you mean, you'll 'take care' of me?" he asked warily.

"I mean I'll help make sure you reach the finish line alive."

I could see I had his attention.

"How?" he asked.

"Come here."

He hesitated, real fear in his eyes. I felt bad for him. Was it all the punishment scenes he'd done over the last two years, or was he just a twitchy bastard? I had no way of knowing. All I knew was that he was afraid of me.

"Come on."

Reluctantly, he got off his bunk and joined me on mine. I sat him beside me and brushed the hair out of his eyes before giving him a soft kiss on the lips.

"Do as you're told, and I won't hurt you."

"What if I want you to?" he asked.

I kissed him again, a lingering kiss that left his eyes filled with expectation.

"Tell me what you need," I said.

"To be free," he whispered, his voice hitching.

"Tell me what you need that I can give you right now."

He closed his eyes. "Release."

I pulled him against me and he half-closed his eyes, his lips parting, as I ran a finger up the inside of his hairless thigh, up over his soft cock, feeling it lurch under that light touch. I ran my fingertips along the shaft until it started to swell, then loosely gripped him, feeling him stiffen and twitch in my hand.

"What gives you release?" I asked.

He blinked hard for several seconds, before answering in a harsh whisper; "Pain."

I squeezed his cock and it jumped in my hand.

"How long's it been since you last had release?"

He let out a shaky sigh and murmured, "The garden, with you."

Christ. Jacked on boosters that amplified my sex drive into overdrive, I'd fucked four different models that day during training, and gotten three blowjobs from random weebs hungry for cum-flavoured bonuses. And I was still horny.

"You waiting for me to fuck you again?" I asked.

The attention I was giving him squeezed out a trickle of precum, and I slid a finger through it and stroked it around his cockhead in slow circles.

"Maybe." He looked sideways at me.

"What do you need?"

He put a hand on my thigh, his palm fever-hot.

"Punish me," he said, in a miserable, desperate whimper. "Hurt me, hit me, fuck the shit out of me."

"I'm not in the 'scene', Ash. What am I supposed to be punishing you for?"

He bit his lip for a moment before answering.

"I'm the reason you don't have a room. I'm not allowed one. As scene partners, we're roomed together as per the network's policy, which means you're stuck bunking in Fuck Palace for the duration of your contract."

"You what?" I twisted towards him and pinned him against the wall with an arm against his throat, forcing his head back.

"Why the fuck are you not allowed a room?"

"I break things," he gasped. "Not on purpose."

I thudded his head against the wall, genuinely pissed at him now.

"More 'accidents' like in the food hall?"

He nodded, wincing as the movement pulled against the grip I had on his hair.

"So, let me get this straight. By accepting the role of your scene partner, I now have to bunk with you in this fucking cell for two fucking years?"

He put his hands against my arm, and I knocked his head back against the wall again.

"Answer me, Ashley, you fuck. Is that what you're telling me?"

"Yes!" he blurted. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you—"

I put more pressure on his throat, and a violent shudder ran through him, a pulse of pre running down the side of his cock. He was actually enjoying being handled like this. I wondered if he realised how close I was to putting a fist through his face, and if he'd enjoy that, too.

He squeezed my arm. "Please, I can't breathe."

I eased off the pressure, but honestly, I just wanted to end the little prick. Of all the people I could have gotten paired with, I had to get paired with the resident crazy, self-harming drama queen.

"Please, Ryan," he pleaded, "no one else will help me. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a fucking untouchable around here."

He gave me the full force of his liquid green eyes, framed with their thick, dark lashes, and my anger dissipated. Now wasn't the time to deal with this. He needed me to help him through his crisis, not beat the crap out of him. Unless those two were the same thing in his world.

"Do you want to hurt me now?" he asked.

More than you can imagine.

"It's fine. I'll talk to Harvey about the room tomorrow."

I sat back against the wall, doing my best not to think about sleeping on this tiny, shitty bunk for two whole years.

"Ryan?" he said softly, his voice almost a whine that set my teeth on edge.

"What?"

"Please."

Good grief.

Well, he was still supremely fuckable, and I was still horny. I glanced sideways at him, and found him begging me with those big, green eyes of his. As pissed with him as I was, I couldn't forget the wistfulness in his voice when he spoke of going home.

"Come here."

I gripped a fistful of his hair and put my forehead against his temple, closing a hand around him again, enjoying the silky feel of his skin. Fourteen shades of fucked up he might be, but every part of him was beautiful, including his smooth, hard cock.

I squeezed the pierced tip, earning another swell of precum, and wondered how much it had hurt to get the Prince Albert piercing done. Probably not as much as he'd have liked, knowing Ash.

I captured the piercing between two fingers and gave it a tug. "How does that feel?"

He let out a shuddering breath. "It hurts when you do that."

"You want me to stop?"

"No."

I tugged harder. "How did it feel when you had it done?"

"Which time?" he asked breathlessly. The attention I was giving his piercing was clearly affecting his ability to think straight.

Wait. Did he say 'which time?'

"I have it done every day when I'm on piercings," he clarified, seeing my confusion.

"What the fuck does 'on piercings' mean?"

He closed his eyes and shivered as I tugged on the ring.

"Nanite treatments heal the holes so you can get pierced again. It's a big earner. People like to watch."

Oh Harvey, you really take care of him, don't you?

"What would you do if I tore this out?"

I played with the ring between my thumb and forefinger and he gasped, throwing his head back. He was leaking a steady stream of precum now, and I spread it liberally over his cock, using it as lube as I slowly jacked him.

"You really are a little pain slut, aren't you?"

He nodded, and his gaze took on a drifty quality, as if some chemical had just flooded his brain.

I nuzzled his neck and he tilted his head to the side, baring a taut stretch of muscle and sinew.

"You want marks tomorrow?"

He nodded quickly.

I rested my teeth against his skin and bit down with enough pressure to leave red indentations, but not hard enough to break the skin.

He let out a hiss and caught my wrist to stop me teasing his cock. "Stop, or I'll cum."

I kept my hand still on his cock while I stroked two fingers over the dents I'd left in his skin, and he trembled under my touch.

I'd seen kids like him, younger versions, cruising the parks back on Earth in their tank tops, their jeans falling low around their hips. Fresh-faced kids with wounded eyes, doing their best to ooze sex. They never lasted long.

Ash had that same damaged look in his eyes. The eyes of a man trapped in pain he couldn't leave behind. A man nurturing his darkness, using it to fight against his own need—a soul-sucking, black hole of need. It'd eventually consume him, a hunger that great, but if I could help him beat it back into its cage, he might just last another night.

I gripped his hair and shook him, and he let out a protest, his hands clasping reflexively against his thighs.

"On a scale of one to ten, how much pain do you want right now?"

His lips curled back from his teeth. "Ten."

Well, Harvey had warned me. I suspected Ash's 'ten' involved loss of blood, and possibly smaller body parts. That wasn't my scene, but I was willing to try, if it made him easier to live with.

I tugged on one pierced nipple and he quivered, a muscle in his jaw twitching, clear fluid snaking down his shaft. I collected it on my fingers and pushed them into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue, testing his gag reflex.

Without hesitation he sucked them clean, his tongue moving against my fingertips.

"You really want me to hurt you?"

I took my fingers out of his mouth and his teeth came together in a hiss. "Yess."

I gripped a fistful of his hair. "Then you're going to do what you're told from now on. No more throwing food. No more attitude. No more breaking things 'accidentally'."

He flashed me a look of terror as he realised my offer to help him was conditional. He'd already played out his release in his head. Now I was threatening to take it away.

"They all deserved it," he said.

"No one cares."

He looked as if he wanted to argue, but didn't. I ran my hand through his hair, then dropped it to his shoulder and squeezed, hard.

"You going to be a good boy from now on?"

He nodded quickly.

"Good. Get me ready."

I pushed him off the bunk and he stumbled into the centre of the small room. The second he had his balance, he dropped to his knees and looked up at me expectantly.

"Your mouth on my cock. Go."

He wrapped his slim fingers around my rod, and I noticed his nails were perfectly shaped and buffed, as if he manicured them. The sight of him diligently licking my tool all over, his big green eyes trained on mine, was almost hypnotic.

There was a natural curve to his waist that flared out to his sharp hips, and as he serviced me, he moved his body as if sucking my cock was on par with being fucked, as if it turned him on more than anything else in the world.

Sure, he was a porn actor, of course he knew how to look as if he was having a good time. But he managed to make it look one hundred percent as if he was about to blow, just from having my oozing dick in his mouth.

"Hey."

I was starting to leak a lot of pre, and he was too busy tonguing my balls and hadn't noticed.

I raised an eyebrow and gave the string stretching from the tip of my cock towards the floor a meaningful look. With a smile, he lowered his head to catch the bead at the end, then lovingly tongued the rest away.

"Keep that up."

He shuddered happily, his smile widening as he slid his tongue around the tip of my cock, before sliding his lips over the head and taking it into the slick heat of his mouth.

Christ he was a horny sight, every hard inch sliding into him, his lips stretched around my shaft. His dark hair was glossy, the angles of his face feminine yet masculine at the same time, so that he seemed to shift between genders depending on how the light hit the soft line of his jaw.

He knew how to work a cock, and the way his body moved told me he knew damn well how illicit he looked doing it. The obvious pleasure he got from his work was half of what made him so damned sexy.

I knew every moment he wasn't getting what he wanted (pain), was one where he'd work extra hard to please me, so I kept him on his knees as long as I could. Usually, a blowjob was just a prelude to the main act for me, but Ash knew how to draw the pleasure out and keep a guy interested in more than just what came next.

It wasn't just the sensations of his tongue massaging my cock, or the tight heat of his throat, but the burning look of intense submission in his eyes. If you pushed him the right way, Ash got the urge to serve the way some guys got the urge to shoot up. He wanted me to praise him, wanted me to see how beautiful he was, wanted to know he had my attention.

And he did—have my attention. But letting him know that was a double-edged sword. Sure, it'd make him feel good in the short term, but the second he sensed he had any kind of emotional advantage, he couldn't help himself. He'd use it to climb his way back to attempting to top me, and I couldn't allow that. He was like a thermometer with no glass cap. If he got too hot, he'd just explode in a shower of hot metal.

"Is that the best you've got?" I said, pulling my cock out of his mouth. "Christ, Ash, this is why you're in so many fucktoy scenes. This is why Kav has to brutalise your throat—to get any kind of pleasure out of you."

The wounded look in his eyes made a part of me cringe for what I was doing to his ego, but at the same time, I saw his eyes empty out. He went from 'trying' to waiting for instructions.

"Here, may as well show you what I enjoy, since you can't figure it out for yourself."

His eyes went wide as I gripped fistfuls of his hair and started to fuck his mouth, plunging into his throat. He choked around me, a look of panic in his eyes, but he didn't resist as I forced him to take my cock all the way down till his nose was pushed against my groin.

"That how to service a guy properly, you pathetic bitch. Maybe, if you're lucky, I'll let you spend an afternoon worshiping my cock later this week, so you can learn how to actually give a guy pleasure."

His eyes shimmered, but he was right there with me, in that cell, in that moment. He wasn't thinking about taking his own life, he wasn't thinking about how trapped he felt. He was thinking about breathing around the pole lodged in his throat, about not throwing up the contents of his stomach, and what the rest of the week held for him.

I fucked his mouth until I knew I'd blow my load if I didn't stop, then pulled him off me with a fistful of his hair.

"Not bad, but you have a lot to learn. Let's see if you're more fun to fuck."

I held two fingers in front of his face and he eyed them nervously.

"Suck."

He softened his lips and let me push my fingers into his mouth, where he obediently lathered them with spit. When I was satisfied they were wet enough, I dragged him to his feet. I gripped his ass with one hand while I reached between his legs and used his saliva to finger him, alternating fingers, until his ass swallowed both.

He didn't need the prep, it was purely to make him gasp and writhe against my hand, payback for fucking me in the garden. But despite how often he got fucked on a daily basis, the nanite creams kept him tighter than you'd expect. Or maybe he was just tense.

Whichever it was, he put a hand on my shoulder while he moaned and twisted on my fingers like the horny little slut he was.

I pulled my fingers out of him and gave his ass a hard slap, then gripped his cheeks with both hands and pulled him between my legs.

"You ready to get fucked?"

He gave me a little pleading noise in reply, and I moved my legs and positioned him over my lap. Hard and ready, I lined myself up with his hole, and he obediently took every inch into himself until he was sitting in my lap.

I knew no matter how horny he was, he'd still need a moment, and stroked my fingers across his chest, pinching his nipples and dragging my nails across his pale skin as he squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on relaxing.

"You're a hot little piece of ass, Ash, I'll give you that."

His eyes opened halfway, and he ground his ass enticingly into my lap. I could feel his muscles tightening around my cock as he deliberately tensed and released, teasing me, urging me on.