Matryoshka Play

They pulled back nearly simultaneously, apparently through some sort of signal from Trevor that I could hear but not decipher. They took long enough to change positions for me to see that the older man and the chauffeur were still fucking the younger one on the desk on stage, but the older man had his hands around the throat of the younger man, whose back was arched and both his legs and arms flung out in a vulnerable, helpless position. The effect given was that the older man was both fucking and choking the younger one to death. It was, of course, only an act to be performed over and over again.

I'd written the story of Strings. I knew what the older man was doing to the younger one in the play being rehearsed on the stage. And I knew why. I also knew how it fit, Matryoshka doll style, to what Ben and Trevor were doing with me--and why. I saw what Trevor's way was to be able to use Strings as he saw fit. It would be easy if I didn't exist anymore.

I was just too incapacitated to do anything about it. I also was a slave to my need and desire. Both men fucked me well when we'd been together before. Both were fucking me well now, Ben now below and inside me, pumping, thick, stretching, commanding, and Trevor above me, rubbing the inside of my throat with his cock. Slut that I was, I actually was disappointed they weren't doubling me--that they weren't both inside me at the same time. I had managed that with the Hayden twins.

The two went into a short flurry of thrusting, jerking, and groaning, as I writhed under them, but in the slow-motion sensation of being underwater. They came inside me, above and below, nearly simultaneously, and so did I, with Ben grasping and stroking me off.

We held there, all panting. The two men drew away from me and I could see now that the stage was empty of players. In the back of my mind I realized that it had just been cleared for the next scene, which was to star me.

I was right.

Ben, carrying me over his shoulder, followed Trevor down the aisle and up onto the stage, where Ben laid me on my back on the desk. Both men stripped, with the heavily hirsute, primeval masculine, almost apian, Ben adjusting the lighting and getting a couple of video cameras at different angles on tripods switched on and filming before coming up onto the desk beside me, and Trevor, when naked, in proud, long erection again already, putting the burgundy dressing gown the actor had left over his shoulders, but permitting it to gape open as the actor had.

Ben went onto his back. He pulled me over on top of him, facing up, and Trevor helped sheath the muscular and hairy man's thick shaft on my anal channel. Ben, athletic, put my arms into a full Nelson, raising and flinging them out, rendering me helpless there even if the drug hadn't had me incapacitated already. The drug was beginning to wear off, but under the control of Ben and Trevor, there still wasn't much I could do to defend myself--even if I fully wanted to. They were giving me the fucking that made me melt to men.

The lights were revealing all and the video cameras were capturing the scene.

Ben laced his legs through mine and lifted and spread them. I was completely at Trevor's mercy, as he moved in between my raised and spread legs, put his cock in position above the one already screwed up inside me, and began to push his way in as well. I moaned and moved as I could, opening my mouth in silent scream in being forced to take the second cock.

The cameras whirred.

Ben's shaft, thick and throbbing, held steady inside me, as Trevor's start to pump me. His hands went to my throat and closed over my windpipe. He was choking me. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe... I couldn't...

* * * *

What can I say? I have a weakness where both Trevor Mattingly and Ben Hayden are concerned. I melted at the viewing of the two sex scenes and agreed to do one with Trevor, when his character agreed to mentor me, and one with Ben when the chauffeur in the play forces himself on my character--fulfilling a secret desire the character had developed. The theater chair scene would be used to establish what the Neal character would do for the other men routinely when the relationships were established.

I turned down the offer of being in the play Trevor was putting together, both because it would conflict with my commitments to the Clouds over Antibes TV serial, I having found out while I was in Amsterdam that the TV program had been renewed for another year, and because I was afraid that having sex on stage that frequently on demand would blunt my interest in sex--and I couldn't see wanting that to happen. Trevor was fair with me, though. A contract was put together assigning copyright to the Strings playscript and all of the versions within a version of that to both of us equally, and he gave me a very nice check to cover filming and acting rights in the porn version. I thoroughly enjoyed filming the other two scenes and I left Amsterdam wondering if either Trevor or I would find yet another Matryoshka level from Strings.

Ben returned to New York with me. He had called ahead, and his brother, Brad, met us at the airport. We, of course, went immediately to my apartment and to my bedroom--the three of us.