Date: Sat, 22 Aug 2009 17:59:35 -0500
From: George Gauthier <georgegauthier@verizonmail.com>
Subject: Jungle Boy 6

			       Jungle Boy 6
			    by George Gauthier

Author's Note: This is a tale of a young actor in Hollywood and his utterly
improbable adventures in the movie business. This sixth installment
features a pair of new protagonists in place of Jason Eberly, the original
Jungle Boy of the first five tales, and his friends. It is set about
fifteen years later than Jungle Boy 5.

It contains graphic descriptions of the male human body and of sexual
activity between adult males, the youngest of whom is seventeen years
old. It depicts scenes of consensual and non-consensual sexual activity,
bondage and submission.

If any of this would offend a reader, proceed no further. This is not
intended for persons younger than an age where they may freely and legally
select their reading matter in whatever jurisdiction that applies.

It is entirely fictional, with no resemblance intended to any person living
or dead.  Occasional references by characters to real motion pictures and
actors and others in the movie business are simply to lend verisimilitude
to a tale about persons in show business. None of the real people mentioned
in passing is in any way part of the tale.  Neither the author nor any of
his heirs or assigns has any connection whatsoever to the movies except as
fans.

Readers who like these stories might want to try my 'Daphne Boy' historical
tales or my 'Naked Prey' series of tales in a modern setting, posted in the
Gay/Beginnings section of the archive. Also, try my 'Track and Field'
stories in College and my 'Mer-Boy' stories in Gay/Beginnings. For links to
all my stories, look on the list of Prolific Authors on the Archive for
George Gauthier.

All rights reserved.

			Chapter 1. The Torch is Passed

"Well, Sandy, are you ready to bare all for your first nude scene?"

"I guess I am sir, er ... Jim," the nervous young actor told the director,
"I just hope my folks don't disown me for all the nudity in this
picture. I'm stark naked in more than half my scenes. A lot of the nudity
seems entirely gratuitous and there is so much of it that the picture is
the next thing to soft core porn. Especially that scene where I get
captured and abused by the minions of the evil sorcerer."

"All the original Jungle Boy pictures were like that, my young friend. With
actors like you and Jason Eberly, it is not just your pretty face that
sells seats. It's about sex appeal and vulnerability. It the titillation of
seeking a shapely young nude blond male in an action movie. That's what
sells the pictures, a combo of high adventure plus sex appeal. The rest of
the movie team supplies the adventure; your job is to supply the sex
appeal. That's why the costume budget for this picture is so low. Look at
the costume they gave you, a skimpy loose sleeveless tunic. On top, the
loose fit shows off most of your chest as you move. As for below the waist,
well the bottom hem reaches only one-third of the way to your knees; that's
barely enough to cover your rump and the fork of your legs. And that
peekaboo outfit won't survive the first reel. After that, all your scenes
will be in the rude nude."

"You do realize that you have already been flashing your butt cheeks when
the script called for you to run or jump along the jungle trail. As for
showing all your tush or the full monty, you knew that was what you signed
up for, why the studio hired you. You look scrumptious in the altogether,
as did your predecessor. Look at what nudity did for the career of Jason
Eberly. He was stark naked for all but three short scenes in his breakout
picture 'Naked Prey'. I know, I was there twenty years ago as his
director. I knew right away he would be a big star. As the new incarnation
of the Jungle Boy, you are going to have to get used to running around
starkers in front of a film crew. At least this is a remote location with
no one else around."

Sandy Barnett nodded, yeah, no one else but the forty-seven people on the
film crew. He shrugged, and stepped up to the edge of the forest pool. What
director Jim Nichols had said was all true enough. And it was not like he
was really body shy, not after three years on the swim team competing in
tiny racing briefs not to mention the last two years working as a male
model. Many of his gigs had him showing lots of flesh for the camera and
the buyers lining the runway both, and more than a few times he had been
fully naked.

Anyway attitudes toward nudity had changed a lot in the first four decades
of the twenty-first century, even in America, the last hold out for nudity
taboos. The law too was changing with the times. There were many clothing
optional beaches around now with nude beach volley ball competitions, nude
swimmers, and nude runners. The larger parks in major cities had sections
given over to nude sunbathing. Runners for cross country teams at some
colleges thought nothing of running down the back road absolutely
starkers. Restrictions on what could be shown in the movies or on
television were virtually non-existent at this late date, some sixty years
after the first instance of full-frontal nudity on American TV. As always,
Europe was way ahead of the U.S. Almost anything could be presented on
screen, as long as moviegoers had adequate notice of what was on offer. You
had to do something pretty outrageous these days to get arrested for what
they used to call public indecency.

The script called for Sandy's character Axel to swim to the bottom of the
pond to look for a magical orb, one of a set to three, whose powers were
the only thing that could save the world from an evil sorcerer who aspired
to godhood. Sandy stepped to the edge of the pool and pulled his light
tunic over his head, holding it a moment before tossing it aside. The
camera swept over the trim and taut physique of the young actor. It dwelled
on the tautness of his shapely buns as he shifted his weight, kicking off
his sandals. There, now he was fully nude. The boy actor was not wearing a
modesty pouch either. He really was bare ass naked for the scene, letting
it all hang out.

Not quite eighteen and looking younger, Sandy was a lovely youth. In
keeping with the traditions of the Jungle Boy pictures he was anything but
a big muscle man, certainly no Tarzan of the Jungle. Sandy, like his
character Axel, was but a boy who was not quite a man, a short, slender,
and slightly built teenager, but in top physical condition. Sandy had more
of a swimmer's build than a cross country runner like Jason Eberly. He was
a comely lad standing barely four inches over five feet (163 cm) and
weighing only 112 pounds (51 kg). He had a fawn-like physique but with a
wiry musculature, toned and taut from daily swimming and running. Like
Jason, Sandy were preternaturally beautiful, much prettier than a boy had
any right to be, with delicate features, a straight nose and high
cheekbones framing large green eyes with hair the color of straw. As a
competitive high school swimmer, he had submitted to treatments to remove
all the hair on his body, little as it had been, even in his armpits and at
the fork of his legs, leaving him permanently smooth and boyish.

The camera loved him. Although short, his body was well proportioned and
incredibly toned, taut and trim with the muscular upper storey of a
swimmer. Add in those killer abs and an all-over tan, he was poetry in
motion. While running, he was as graceful as a gazelle. In the trees, he
was as quick and nimble as a squirrel. The way he swam it was as if the
waters parted willingly to let him pass, taking their pleasure in being
able to touch and kiss his lovely body everywhere at once. It was as if he
really were a creature of the sea, switched at birth for a mer-boy or sea
sprite.

They were doing several slo-mo shots just to show off Sandy's athleticism
and raw animal appeal. From his tiny red nipples to a deeply indented
navel, to narrow hips framing a surprisingly ample manhood for one so
slight in build, Sandy was real beauty. He carried so little body fat that
his flat belly showed a tracery of downward pointing veins just under the
skin. The beat of his heart was visible on the left side of his smooth
chest. His rump jutted out just the right amount, twin mounds of firm flesh
begging to be grabbed. He was sleek and smooth, deeply and evenly tanned
from much exposure to the sun while in the nude at the beach or outdoor
pool. The sheen of sweat on his skin made him shine in the bright sun, his
wiry physique a vision of youthful male pulchritude.

With the camera behind him and feeling very self-conscious, Sandy put the
knife in his teeth and bent at the knees, letting the camera capture the
play of the muscles of thighs and buttocks as he dove into the water,
inadvertently flashing his genitals as he plunged in head first. It took
several takes before the director was satisfied. The camera crew then
filmed the ending of the scene when Sandy's character clambers back onto
shore to bestow the orb he had retrieved on his mentor, the old monk who
had set him upon this quest.

The camera caught the boy then from the front and not just from the waist
up. The director had the cameraman capture his whole body, first in a long
shot, then a tracking shot from ankles to head, lingering just a tad for
the shot of the full monty. Sandy was quite respectable in that department
especially for one with his slight build. He had a smooth cock with a vein
running along the top of the shaft from his belly to where the foreskin
hugged his cock head, outlining the ridge of the glans under the skin,
leaving just the slit at the tip of the head visible. Cock and balls were
reasonably sized but he wouldn't be scaring the horses. It might take both
his small hands to cover his erection, but only one when he was soft.

Then it was time for close-ups, but even for those the boy remained nude
even though, from the hips on down, he was out of frame. Actually a second
camera caught the boy from the rear again. Jim Nichols knew that the
females in the audience and the gay contingent too would love those
glimpses of the teenage heartthrob's tush. The director assured him that
all this would lend verisimilitude to his portrayal, just as it had done
with the original Jungle Boy. Just as well that the boy get used to public
nudity. It was good preparation for the more explicit scenes coming up
later in the shooting script. Those would mostly be in the studio on a
closed set but still rough sailing for a nice kid like Sandy. He didn't
seem to have the same outrageous exhibitionist streak that helped Jason
Eberly deal with these issues, even though, like Jason, he was openly gay.

The shoot went well, though it left Sandy was apprehension at the thought
of all the personal cameras clicking away, capturing stills that likely
would get circulated on the web. Well, he had been a competitive swimmer in
high school. In competition he wore extremely skimpy racing briefs, barely
enough to cup his genitals in front or cover the middle of his buttocks in
the rear. For daily training, he usually swam in the nude, at the boy's
pool in school, at the beach, and even in the lap pool in his back
yard. With his father and mother both doctors, his habitual nudity around
the back yard and the pool was no problem. Nothing they hadn't seen
before. They did worry that he got too much exposure to the ultraviolet
rays of the sun but did not even raise an eyebrow at seeing their teenager
prancing around in the buff.

It had all started just two months ago ...

Movie producer Marty Fletcher looked up with a grin as his favorite actor
Jason Eberly breezed into his office. Still looking good after twenty years
in the movie business, Jason had kept most of his youthful good looks. As
usual the pretty blond was dressed in his trademark outfit of low slung
green sarong and a tight yellow tank top. The actor's tight clothes showed
off his still trim and taut physique. Flip flops and a gold neck chain
completed the ensemble.

"Look who's here" he said to director Jim Nicholls, Leon Potter, production
chief for the studio, and Ed Veronese, Jason's agent. They were meeting to
pick the actor who would star in a revival of the Jungle Boy series. In his
late thirties himself, Jason was transitioning to the role of executive
producer for the series. He had starred in nine of the pictures over the
years, but was getting a little too old for the role of Jungle Boy. He
still looked good doing love scenes, but he clearly was no longer a
kid. Jason had been very successful of late with the film noir genre and in
comedy-dramas, especially those with a gay angle, plus an occasional war
picture.

"Hi Jason," Nicholls grinned, "I'll bet you never thought this day would
come, but it is time to pass the torch. So who is to be our next Jungle
Boy?"

"It's Sandy Barnett, hands down. He reminds me so much of myself twenty
years ago." Jason replied immediately. "I know, he doesn't have much acting
experience, but he is a successful teen model and he looks terrific with
his clothes off. And no I haven't taken him to bed, though I sure would
like to."

"I dunno, Jason," Potter ruminated. "The role calls for a lot of partial or
even complete nudity. Now I give you the fact that the boy is simply
gorgeous, delicious even, from a gay angle. He's even blond like you,
Jason. I will grant you judgment on that score, but what we need is a real
actor not just a model, even one who looks like a walking wet dream."

"So you noticed, eh Leon?"

"I prefer the ladies myself, as you know very well Jason, but after forty
years in this business, I understand what the gals and the gay public like
too, and this boy's looks are enough to make even a monk forget his vows of
chastity."

Amid general laughter, they looked over the Barnett boy's impressive
portfolio. Much of his modeling work did not even display garments from the
line of clothing the ads were supposed to be selling. They were designed
rather for readers flipping through fashion magazines, trying to to catch
their attention with a promise of sex appeal. So Sandy had typically been
filmed playing nude beach volleyball, or seated on a block of wood in a
pensive pose, front leg crossed strategically while wearing just beat up
sneakers and a watch cap pushed to the back of his head and nothing in
between, or standing nude with a soccer ball held before his groin, that
sort of thing.

Some poses deliberately mocked the genre, a nude boy in a night club
wearing a loose necktie and nothing else, or holding a pose for a light
kiss with a fashion model, she in an evening gown, he in nothing at all,
the picture cropped so low on his hips you could tell he really was
naked. Then there was that strange pose of a naked boy on the floor in a
doorway, his entire weight on his shoulders, arms crossed over his face,
legs raised high with his rump braced against one door jamb and his feet
against the other. That one really showed off Sandy's delectable
curves. Fashion photos like those were always carefully posed or cropped so
as not to reveal a male model's genitals. Between the plentiful skin and
the sultry look looks on the model's faces, they were suggestive and erotic
but not actual pornography.

Sandy's professional portfolio deliberately did not include any of the
"naughty" pix taken for the private collections of a couple of the top
fashion photographers. Even if he wasn't willing to go to bed with them,
they did want to capture the image of the boy's youth and vitality at their
very peak. Flattered and cock proud like all good looking teenage males,
Sandy had let them snap away while he played with sex toys like anal beads
and dildos, pleasuring himself till he erupted splashing his milky cum all
over his belly and chest and even his face. Several shots caught the cum in
midflight, still airborne before landing on the boy. Those pix were
strictly for private consumption. Sandy would be mortified if they ever got
to the public.

Sandy never minded the way the fashion houses blatantly exploited his sex
appeal. That was the commodity he was selling, glimpses of a very sexy
blond boy. If they wanted to photograph him starkers then OK by him. He was
lucky that he was exactly what fashion photographers wanted, a slender
pretty boy, a twink who looked good in or out of his clothes. It was honest
work, after all.

It's not like he sought out occasions to prance around in public in the
nude. True he preferred to swim at clothing optional beaches and
pools. That didn't make him an exhibitionist. Still he was rightly proud of
his tempting body and knew full well how easily it could excite those of
both genders. As a Florida lad he considered clothes something of a bother
what with global warming and all. Florida's climate was almost tropical
these days. The neighbors were used to seeing "the Barnett kid" trotting in
the nude along local streets to running trails in the parks.

Except at work, no one would call him a fashion plate. A practical lad with
both feet on the ground, he had no real use for the extravagance of the
kind of high fashion that he modeled and promoted. Such outfits were worn
to be seen, not for comfort or practicality. He sometimes wondered how
anyone in his right mind could really wear those ridiculous designer
outfits that he strutted his stuff in. Himself, he preferred plain clothes
and casual dress: shorts and maybe a tank top or T-shirt and sandals. Sandy
was more likely to shop for clothes at Wall Mart than in some smart fashion
boutique, news that gave his modelling agent and publicist horrors at that
thought that his preferences might become public knowledge. Potter wasn't
fully aware of the the young actor's attitudes so he went on to add:

"Remember friends, that it is one thing to take your clothes off in front
of a single photographer or even to trot down a runway in some skimpy
confection, but our star will have to be comfortable going around stark
naked for hours or days at a time in front of an entire film crew. Is
Barnett ready for that, I wonder?"

"I think he can handle that just fine, Leon." Jason replied. "He spent
three days over at our townhouse.  He readily went along with the idea of
shucking off upon arrival and staying starkers the whole while he was there
with us. It didn't bother him to hop over next door to swim nude in the
neighbors' pool either."

"I liked the way he talked about movies during my marathon showing of all
the Jungle Boy pictures.  We talked over practically each scene in the
original series, what each scene contributed to character development and
plot, why the characters had to be bareass so much in those pictures, what
I felt at the time, how I looked back on things now. He was at least as
knowledgeable about the picture business as I was on our first movie
together, with very easy going personality and a great sense of humor."

"He is my pick and not just because he is so damn hot. Naturally I and my
three lovers were on our best behaviour, so we couldn't be accused of bias,
but we would all of us have jumped his bones in a minute, otherwise. This
kid will burn up the screen. Take it from a guy who knows."

The others just shook their heads tolerantly. Jason was nearly as famous
for his unorthodox love life as for his movies. His famous foursome was
still going strong after sixteen years in an close but open relationship.
Jason added something Sandy had told him about being a male model, which is
not exactly the most macho role a teenage boy could choose.

The teenager had gotten hassled by his contemporaries in high school for
his modeling career. Some of the jocks especially gave him a hard time,
roughing him up, stealing his clothes when he was in the pool, slapping his
butt, circulating cruel jokes. He countered with complete candor about his
sexual orientation. When asked if he were gay, Sandy had simply said:

"Oh, absolutely. I am a faggot all right, a real bottom boy, if the truth
were known. That means I suck cock and take it up the ass too. You should
try it some time. You might like it!"

Actually that approach had won the grudging respect of the jocks. Any kid
with that much brass deserved a degree of respect. So they let him be. The
members of his swim team had razzed him gently about all the skin in his
photos too. He pointed out that they usually trained in the nude themselves
and competed in glorified G-strings, so what was the difference.

Jason's endorsement confirmed the decision that the others had privately
arrived at themselves. Sandy Barnett would be the new Jungle Boy. They
signed him for a two picture deal with options for three more. It was more
money than the boy would ever see in his modeling career but still dirt
cheap for the star of a big budget movie. Fletcher reminded them of all the
money they would save on costumes. Jungle Boy pictures got by on miniscule
costume budgets. Given decent box office, the studio stood to make
millions.  In time so would the young actor, just like Jason had
himself. Mindful of his own lucky start, the veteran actor would ensure
that his new protege would get a fair shake in Hollywood. He had Sandy sign
up with his own acting agent Ed Veronese.

				Chapter 2. A Star is Born

After three weeks on location, Jim Nicholls was satisfied that his young
actor could carry the picture. He was a natural in front of the camera,
taking direction easily, and a real team player. He reminded the old
director of a certain young actor from twenty years ago. Nicholls had fond
memories of his long association with Jason and he hoped this was the
beginning of another fruitful professional and personal relationship.

Sandy's natural agility and athleticism would really help this picture. You
really couldn't fool the public much with stunt doubles for a actor whose
entire physique was on screen so much. So Sandy did nearly all his own
stunts: running, climbing, jumping, fighting, swimming. He got scraped and
banged up some but wore the bruises and abrasions as badges of honor. He
did get hurt a couple of times enough to stop filming temporarily. One
time, while running down a path, he had stepped awkwardly on a stick which
rolled up and smacked him right in the nuts. The poor kid fell to the
ground, moaning and clutching himself down there, tears in his eyes, trying
not to bawl like a child. That had really hurt! Yet the very next day,
though still very sore, he had manfully stepped up and reported for
work. The boy had grit, that was the director's assessment.

He never complained except about the food, which really did need
improvement, and the bugs. Oh the insect repellents worked fine. He wasn't
bothered much by flying insects and their bites and stings, even with so
much of his flesh exposed whether in his skimpy costume or when nude. The
problem was that this location was a real jungle and you never could tell
when you might encounter some horrid creepy-crawly like a giant spider or a
centipede ambling atop the very tree branch that the director wanted you to
run along. The boy was also wary of snakes, as indeed he should have
been. The production crew had anti-venin with them and a competent aid man
on set, but anyone might get bit. It is easy to be brave tramping around
the jungle in stout boots but much harder in sandals or barefoot.

It wasn't in the script, but when his skimpy tunic got badly torn during an
early fight scene, the director told the costume department to leave the
ripped garment alone. Its rips and tears added authenticity to later
scenes. Fine, but the damage left the top hanging by only one shoulder and
the side hem torn nearly to the waist. Finally it got snagged on the trees
during a pursuit, tearing the garment right off his body.

Nicholls improvised. The script had called for the Jungle Boy to get
stripped naked a little later on, but this accident would serve as well. It
meant that all the boy's remaining shots in the story line would have him
fully naked. This was turning out to be a real Jungle Boy picture after
all. The fans always liked lots of skin in a Jungle Boy picture. The gay
fans especially wanted the hero totally naked in every scene. They would
love the underwater sequence in the jungle pool, though that would be shot
later back in Hollywood.

Still Sandy was different from the original actor who had portrayed the
Jungle Boy. Jason was an exhibitionist and had stayed in character the
whole time they were shooting 'Naked Prey'. In other words he stayed stark
naked on camera and off. Like Jason, Sandy didn't bother with a robe or
anything while they were between shots, but he was willing enough to pull
on a pair of shorts after the filming was done for the day.

In the evening he typically slipped on a pair of those extreme short shorts
that had come back into fashion. These so-called hot pants had been popular
in the 1970s and were fashionable once again fifty years later. With a very
low rise waistband and a two-inch inseam and with a loose fit, the hot
pants lived up to their name. Anyone standing behind the boy could look
down his rear cleavage, and the inseam was barely enough to contain him in
front. You didn't wear any underwear with hot pants either.

It didn't help that when the young actor stretched out his legs on a lounge
chair, you could look up his shorts from certain angles. The outfit was
perfect for displaying the proportions of the boy's slender but muscular
legs.  With many slightly built youths, the legs are disproportionately
short, accounting for most of the deficit in height. Sandy's trim form was
smaller in proportion, retaining the classic ratios which artists have
discovered please the eye and excite concupiscence. The languid movements
of the former male model as he shifted about on the lounge certainly
excited the lusts of the onlookers.

Sandy never bothered with anything above the waist. Their location shoot
was deep in the Yucatan where the tropic heat was oppressive. All he wore
off camera, when he wore anything at all, was the hot pants and a pair of
moccasins. His feet were not tough from running cross country barefoot as
Jason's been for the first of the Jungle Boy pictures.

As for his work in front of the camera, everyone in the crew had spent
weeks watching him do his scenes often stark naked. They were professionals
themselves and treated him as one. Nobody made a big deal of his nudity any
more. Obviously some of the gals and quite of few of the guys were
interested in him sexually, but he was on the picture to work. He was
concentrating on his craft. This picture was his big break, so he wasn't
looking for either a lover or a casual liaison.

One scene in particular confirmed the director's faith in his young
actor. Young 'Axel' was paddling a dugout canoe through a maze of streams
and swamps in a river delta, trying to escape pursuit. The old monk was
wounded, lying in the bottom of the canoe. At one point tall reeds blocked
the way, so the boy had to hop out and push the canoe through swampy waters
that reached to his neck. As they emerged into clear water on the other
side, Sandy discovered that his body was covered with purple leeches,
sucking on his life's blood.

He clambered ashore, and, in his panic, grabbed a couple of the leeches
attached to his ribs, pulling them loose from his body, crushing them in
his hands. That forced their mouths to spurt bright red blood onto his
hands, his own blood. In disgust he threw them to the ground and stamped on
the creatures.

"Stop, Sandy" the aid man called. Remember, you gotta break the seal!"

That shout reminded Sandy about his training in jungle survival. When
dealing with leaches you had to make the blood suckers let go more or less
voluntarily by using your fingernail to break the seal their mouth had
formed with your skin. It was no good pulling them loose like he had those
first two. That might leave parts of the leeches' jaws broken off and
embedded in his wounds or make the animals regurgitate their stomach
contents into the open wound, leading to bad infections.

It took all of the boy's self-control to stop what he had been doing and
attend to the leaches one by one.

"Help me!" he wailed. "Gettem offa meeee!"

The actor playing the old monk recognized a cue when he heard one. Still in
character, he hobbled over to the young actor and went to work on the
leaches attached to the boy's back and ass. Meanwhile director Nicholls
told everyone else to stay out of the frame and to keep the cameras
rolling. This scene was going to be part of the picture.

That got him a look of despair from poor Sandy, who felt he was being
betrayed for the sake of a movie. These creatures were just awful, hanging
onto him everywhere. The worst was that the wily critters had sniffed out
the best blood supply on the male physique. The poor youth had several
extra appendages at the fork of his legs, filled with his blood like so
many obscene cocks. He could hardly see what he was doing through his
tears, but work manfully to make the leeches drop off properly.

The old monk did the same with the leeches on the boy's back and ass. At
one point he hissed at what he was seeing. An especially large leech had
attached itself to the perinium between the boy's scrotum and crinkly anal
ring, hanging there like a distended third testicle. Nicholls put his hand
on the old actor's shoulder to stay his hand till he had a camera brought
up for a tight close-up. Following the director's orders, the man dislodged
the leech then picked it up and squeezed it hard to show just how much
blood it had taken from the beleaguered youth. They pulled the last of the
leeches off the boy's trembling body. Sandy sank to the ground and curled
up in a ball sobbing.

"Cut, cut, cut. You bastards! Give him room." a youthful voice shouted.
"Someone set up a shower for him." the voice ordered. "That's what he
needs. To cleanse the taint off him."

Sandy looked up into the anxious face of the script boy, Terry Knowles, a
cute red-head his own age who had been unaccountably distant from the young
actor during the production even though Sandy had sensed a mutual
attraction. Terry was maybe half an inch taller than Sandy and had an
identical build. At that moment of crisis, the normally quiet script boy
had stepped forward as Sandy's champion, blue eyes flashing, taking command
in a voice that would brook no contradiction: stopping the filming, telling
this man to set up a shower, that one to get soap and brush and towel, and
another to fetch Sandy's clothing. Terry's hands explored Sandy's body,
making sure none of the critters was still attached.

In his anger and concern for the young actor, Terry had denounced the
director for putting Sandy through hell just for the sake of the
picture. Even an old pro like Nicholls had to feel guilty about using his
young star so opportunistically. That look of betrayal Sandy had flashed
him had cut him to the quick. Now this red-head youngster had called him to
account. Never a petty man, Nicholls nodded to the Knowles boy.

"You're right, Terry. I went too far. I am sorry, Sandy, sorry about being
too much the director and not enough your friend, as I hope I always will
be. Terry, you were right to step in. I admire the way you took charge like
that. Good work, both of you."

The two young men were surprised and gratified by the director's admissions
and his forthright apologies. Abruptly Terry realized he had his arms
around the young star's nude body. He started to let go and back away,
suddenly unsure of himself, but Sandy grabbed him and said.

"Oh, no you don't. You're not getting away that easily, now that we have
broken the ice. First off, you have to help me to the shower. Give me a
hand up will you?"

The script boy helped Sandy to his feet. Terry showed anxiety on his face
but Sandy had a mischievous look. The young actor abruptly tugged the
script boy to his chest and planted a big kiss on his lips. Surprised
delight raced over the script boy's cute features.

"Wow!" he exclaimed. The Sandy took command:

"Now you get out of your clothes too, Terry, so we can shower together."

The crew watched in delight as the two scrumptious youngsters, now both
naked, stepped over to the newly rigged shower, a collapsable canvass bag
with a shower head, the whole thing hung from a tree branch. The boys
soaped each other down enthusiastically.  Soon their hands were all over
each other, at first just cleansing but later roaming everywhere and
touching erotically. The youngsters quickly forgot that others were
watching, totally engrossed in each other and the sudden strong attraction
between them.

"All right," Nicholls voice called out. Let's give these two lovebirds some
privacy. That's a wrap for the day."

The water ran out before their fun did, so they filled the bag up again and
resumed their intimate touching. This wasn't the place for real sex, so the
boy's just stoked each other off then pressed their bodies together,
murmuring endearments. Afterwards the youths rinsed clean and sat together,
talking quietly while getting to know one another. Terry admitted that he
had been smitten by Sandy from the the very beginning. He had followed his
modeling career and had angled to get on the crew as script boy. Sandy
chided him mildly for being standoffish. He should not have thought that,
just because Sandy was the star, that he would be stuck up and not
interested in a relationship with a mere script boy. Actually Terry had a
lot to offer. He himself was a great catch: incredibly cute, a tight body,
a good talker, and he had a good head on his shoulders, as he had shown
that afternoon.

As evening fell, Sandy led Terry into his tent. Even with the tent closed
up, the sounds of their lusty sexual congress carried halfway across the
encampment, bringing a smile to Nicholl's face. He had seen the way those
two boys had looked at each other, the tenderness and the eagerness
both. Ah, young love. Just like in a movie. How appropriate.

And that was how Sandy and Terry met and fell in love.

The next day, after breakfast, Nicholls smiled when Terry reported for
work, dressed like Sandy did on his off time in a pair of hot pants and
moccasins, no shirt. Sandy himself was nude for the cammera, ready to
continue with the next scene in the picture, as the canoe forced its way
through the reeds into the open waters of a lake.

"Were you two going over Sandy's lines for today, last night there in his
tent?" Nicholls asked innocently.

Poor Terry, not quite eighteen himself, and still something of an innocent,
blushed with the total pink coloration that only a freckled Irish kid can
attain. Sandy's eyes danced with amusement even as he looked over at his
boyfriend sympathetically, and in mild reproach at the director who had
teased his vulnerable lover. On the other hand, Terry did look ever so cute
biting his lower lip in embarrassment.

All that day, the crew couldn't help smiling at the two young men, so
obviously taken with each other. All really wished the kids well. They made
a fine looking couple. That kiss they had shared just as the director
called for everyone to get ready, was tender and loving. Even the straight
people could smile at the way Terry's hands had cupped Sandy's bare rump in
their clinch. One or two crew even took pictures for the tabloids.

The fact is the boys were popular with the whole crew. They knew Terry as a
shy kid but nice, a bit of an intellectual maybe, very well read it seemed,
but not snobbish about it. Sandy was the best sort of leading man, a
regular guy who cared not one whit about Hollywood status. Star or not, he
knew he was just a good looking kid of moderate talent who had gotten a
real break by starting at the top in the movie business in a revival of a
money making franchise.

Sandy felt on top of the world. He had a movie career opening up for
him. As if that were not enough of a break, he had met a great boyfriend in
Terry. Sexually they were both bottom boys but compatible as they happily
switched off with each other or sixty-nined. They especially liked to fuck
each other sitting up, face to face, maybe kissing or playing with each
other's nipples, legs interlocked as first one boy then the other slid down
the other's cock then used his internal ass muscles to squeeze his partner
to climax. Dawn would find them in Sandy's cot, spooned together, sometimes
with a boy's morning wood buried in the velvet warmth of his partner's
quim.

The boys also hit it off as friends, forming an instant attachment they
resolved to continue as a real couple after the picture. Life doesn't get
any better than that.

			Chapter 3. Ups and Downs

There is a lot of down time for an actor on a movie set as the crew gets
things ready. Actors even have stand-ins who take their place while
cameras, lighting, and sound are set up. So the boys had time on their
hands. Both boys were natural athletes and used their free time in active
pursuits, now virtually always in the nude.  They liked to swim but did so
only when the waters were clear and they had a boat with them and a lookout
armed with a rifle in case of caimans or other predators. The boys had been
competitive athletes and could do laps for a couple of hours at a
time. They often played in the water with a large inflated beach ball or
clambered onto the bank and threw a frisbee around. Their tanned bodies
darted here and there, bending and twisting, jumping and lunging,
occasionally tumbling to the ground, all to accompaniment of laughter and
happy voices. They were the very picture of health and youthful male
exuberance.

Sandy, and then Terry with his encouragement, practiced rope and tree
climbing, both with regular ropes and those tricked up by the prop
department to look like vines. The script called for some vine swinging
like Tarzan, and Sandy wanted to look good at it. No CGI substitute for
him. Sandy was strong enough he could hoist himself upwards with just his
arms. Terry could do it better, like a gymnast with the legs straight out
so that his nude body formed an L. Their climbing attracted quite a few
cameras. Few forms of exercise were better suited to display the strength
and agility of the human frame.

Actually they looked just great, both of them. The muscle bundles of
shoulders and arms stood out under the smooth tawny skin of the two
lads. Back muscles bunched and moved erotically. Buns tightened and dimpled
fetchingly. The boys always practiced climbing in the nude, never no mind
who was watching. Their slight builds and natural agility made them natural
for scrambling in the tree tops, swinging on ropes, collecting fruits or
the occasional exotic orchid. They looked like two nature children, perched
on high branches surveying their jungle domain, their evenly tanned,
hairless bodies toned, taut, slender, and boyish.

They liked to perch on big branches, backs against the trunk, often with
with one boy nestled or spooned to the other, rump to lap, hands idly
touching and petting and stroking shoulder or abs or ribs, fingers playing
with nipples, twirling and pulling, and pinching. It felt good to have the
other's hands touching them, to feel the other boy's breath on the back of
the neck, to smell the fresh smell of a clean healthy boy in their arms. Or
fingers might explore more boldly, a thumb rolling a boy's balls, a
forefinger swirling around the rim of the glans, or thumb and several
fingers sliding up and down the shaft of a boy's virile member.

Sometimes the aerial petting went further, when Sandy or Terry simply took
control of the other boy, getting his fingers slick for stroking the
submissive partner's cock steadily, tweaking nipples, kissing the nape of
his neck, languidly bringing him to a climax high in the trees. Sometimes
the submissive boy would hike his hips up and let his lover slip into him,
relishing the feeling of impalement and fulfillment as they lounged in
their aerie.

They had an unfounded sense of privacy up in the jungle canopy since anyone
with binoculars or using the telephoto lenses of the cameras had no trouble
spying on their intimate moments. Most folks looked the other way, but
there was money to be made from images of their couplings. Some of the more
tasteful ones would feature in the standard 'Making Of" video.

The paparazzi among the crew also snapped pix of the boys picnicking on the
ground, lying side by side, smiling languidly in post-coital lassitude,
with wet splashes in the hollows of their bellies, their cocks still
visibly turgid with blood. The kids were pretty good sports about those
shots. After all, what did folks think two gay teenagers got up to
together? At least everyone one could see that as males they were as virile
as the next guy. Their erections and copious ejaculate proved that. Terry
was hugely embarrassed, the first time he saw a splash shot posted to the
web, the one where Sandy had loosed a huge load onto his face that dripped
from his forehead and nose to his eyes, cheeks, and chin. Not something you
really care for your folks to see, no matter how liberal.

Well such videos and photos were a tradition with the Jungle Boy
pictures. Besides including out-takes and bloopers, the editor would thrown
in candid shots of the actors both on and off set, often when they were
doing something awkward or silly or naughty. This edition would feature the
athleticism of the young actor and his new lover. There would also be the
usual nude interview with the star of the Jungle Boy pictures.

Sometimes the boys left the encampment and ran along the country
roads. Though little more than tracks the footing made for easier going
than running through the jungle, and it was much easier to see and avoid
snakes, a read danger for unshod runners. Natives in trucks or carts
sometimes passed by waving or whistling or hooting at the pair of nude and
barefoot runners. On one unlucky day, the youths encountered two
unsympathetic members of the local constabulary who stopped them, asking in
Spanish what two gringoes were doing running naked through the
district. Probably up to no good. Neither of the boys spoke enough Spanish
to make themselves understood. Impatient, the cops handcuffed the boys,
threw them belly down on the hood of their jeep, kicked the lads' legs
apart, grabbed their tackle, and gave them a few good squeezes each to
subdue them. Both yelped and protested but got the message the third time
their nuts got crushed. The cop who had Terry even stuck his thumb into the
boy's whole, making some dirty joke to his colleague at the hapless lad's
expense.

Well the boys were well and truly caught. This was not their country; they
did not speak the language, and they quickly figured out that nudity taboos
were still alive in this culturally backwater region. Maybe at the beach
resorts young gringos could run around stark naked but not in the interior,
far from the coast. The cops didn't see many young gringos in this
neighborhood, especially a couple of naked teenagers. With their captives
rendered helpless and obedient, the cops started spanking the kids, first
with the flat of their hands, to humiliate them, then with their leather
belts, which really hurt, leaving flat red welts. Soon both kids were
howling, tears running down their faces though both were trying manfully
not to bawl like a child.

The cop working Terry over suddenly exclaimed in surprise. His captive boy
had thrown a boner. The cop stood the boy up to show his colleague. Sure
enough, the Terry's cock was engorged, sticking straight out from his
groin, the hood pulled back, the prow of the head leaking
pre-ejaculate. The younger cop leered as he bent the boy's erection to
point straight down then released it to slap up against his belly. He did
that twice. Terry could only squeeze his eyes shut, totally mortified at
his traitor cock.

"Maricon!" explained the first cop with a leer.

"Claro" agreed the other, glancing over at the captives dismissively. He
slapped his night stick at the boy's genitals and then he poked it into the
hole, working it deep, eliciting a sharp cry of dismay from the impaled
lad. His cock though stayed rigid.

"I...I'm sorry Sandy. I ... I can't help it" Terry wailed to his
lover. "Being in bondage like this, the cops with their uniforms and
weapons, the beating and all, a nightstick up my ass, it turns me on
unbearably. It makes me feel like a slave boy of antiquity. It's just my
perverse and kinky libido. I am so ashamed and sorry, Sandy."

Satisfied for the moment with the initial punishment they had meted out to
the two American kids, the cops threw the two miscreants into the back of
the jeep. They drove down the rutted road to a sleepy town nearby and
tossed the boys into the crowded holding cell still naked and
handcuffed. The boys were in for a gang bang of the roughest sort.

The other detainees themselves were delighted with a heaven sent
opportunity to get back a bit at the damn gringos and how they lorded it
over everyone around the world. Well here were two gringo lads who would
learn different. The two youths were totally at their mercy, very young,
small, naked, cuffed, outnumbered, locked in a cage with sixteen lusty men
who hadn't had sex in a very long while. They were cute and sexy little
things too, far too pretty for boys, queers as the cops had said. The men
threw mattresses onto the floor and dragged the boys down with them,
spreading their legs to get at their holes. The boys were helpless, unable
to resist the surge of lusty humanity that engulfed them.

At first the jailbirds limited themselves to mere roughhouse as they
cracked jokes as Sandy and Terry's expense. They pointed with scorn to
their smooth hairless groins and equally smooth armpits, chests and
limbs. Some mocked them for their slight stature. Some of the prisoners
kissed Sandy and Terry on the lips and slapped their faces when they didn't
respond enthusiastically enough.  One man circled Terry's smooth scrotum
with his fingers, forcing the balls to the bottom of the sac and snapping
his fingers at reddened organs. He poked two or three fingers up his chute,
making him lubricate them first with his spit and later with his
pre-ejaculate fluid when it started dripping. Poor Terry was turned on by
his utter helplessness and the pheromones and the smell of so much unwashed
masculinity. As one man lined up to shove his cock up Terry' ass, Sandy
shouted threats at him which just got him cuffed by the men holding him
down.

"Don't resist them, Sandy. We cannot fight them. We've got nowhere to
go. We're both helpless and naked here in this cage with all these
brutes. We are gonna get raped again and again. Nothing we can do about
that except take it and survive the experience. We will get through this,
Sandy, I love you know matter wh.."

That last was cut off by a big cock shoved into Terry's small mouth. He
looked so surprised, impaled on a fleshy shaft, his lips a full red circle
around a truncheon of a cock. Sandy lost sight of his lover as his own
group of assailants took him in hand for their pleasure, forcing him into
all manner of positions for sex, fucking him in both his orifices, teasing
and taunting him the whole while. Once, while on his knees, he caught a
glimpse of Terry seated in one man's lap back to front, legs held up and
wide apart like a wishbone. Even though the boy already had one big cock up
his quim, a second man was crouched in front, between his slender spread
apart legs, positioning himself to shove a second cock into the boy's tight
hole. Poor Terry passed out from the terror and the pain of his first ever
double penetration. It wasn't his only one of the night. A variation was
when one man lay down and had the boy straddle him on his knees, sinking
his ass slowly onto the man's shaft. Then the jailbird pulled the boy to
his chest while a second rapist, rammed into the already occupied hole from
behind. By the time their assailants were through, Terry's sweet light
tenor had been reduced to a hoarse whisper by all his screams and howls.

Sandy got it pretty rough too. Though he was not a total stranger to double
penetrations, he was subjected to all manner of brutality and
degradation. Some men made them drink their piss as well as swallow their
gism. Others like to torment his tits, pulling, twisting, or digging in
with their fingernails, actually drawing blood. They fisted his cock, got
it erect, then slapped it hard, making it whip back and forth. One man got
a charge out of crushing a boy's nuts in his hand, sending shooting pains
through Sandy's belly. Terry got their attention too. One man held his fist
up to Terry's face and pointed to his hole, smiling at the thought of
fisting the boy. Terry fainted dead away from the fright. In the end, the
man spared his anal ring that ultimate assault. And so it went almost the
whole night till their assailants finally dropped off to sleep. The boys
were left to curl up on the hard floor, blood and cum oozing out of their
torn orifices, lips swollen and cut from slaps and punches, their slender
bodies battered and bruised, and sore all over.

In the morning they heard voices in both English and Spanish. The movie
producer was there to report two missing crew members who had last been
seen running nude down a country road. Realization dawned on the local
police that their new prisoners were the missing boys of whom these movie
people spoke.  With patently insincere apologies, they dragged the boys out
of their cage and presented them, safe and sound, if a great deal the worse
for wear.

Even for a movie company, there was no point registering a complaint. The
movie company's influence was limited since they were not a permanent
presence in the Mexican state of Quintana Roo. Instead the producer
conferred a generous gratuity on the police as a reward for finding the
"lost boys". That got them released without any charges. The two boys were
not looking for revenge either. They just wanted out of there.

Still naked, the boys climbed into a truck for the ride back. The aid man
was along and he tended their hurts, examining their battered holes
carefully. Fortunately there were no actual tears or fistulas in the
sphincters, so they boy's would not need surgery. Finally they stretched
out together on their bellies, arms companionably around each other's
waist, occasionally turning their heads to touch foreheads or to murmur
words of support, each grateful for the other boy's presence. Rough as
their night had been, the shared travail had strengthened the growing bond
between the two youths. Together, they had been to hell and back.

The next three days the production crew worked on scenes that did not
require their leading man. Terry got the time off too. They spent it
together resting, talking, and healing plus getting in some easy swimming
as physical rehabilitation. Neither bothered with clothing, walking about
the encampment totally nude, often hand in hand, smiling shyly at each
other. The crew mostly smiled at the cute couple, remembering their own
salad days when they themselves had first been smitten. It helped that both
boys were so extraordinarily good looking.

Before normal production resumed, Sandy told his director that he was going
to take a page out of Jason Eberly's playbook and stay in character the
whole time they had left on location. In practical terms that meant he
wouldn't be wearing clothes again till they packed up to leave in five
weeks' time. Terry chimed in saying he would do likewise. First because he
was still a little sore back there, too much anyway to bear the touch of
cloth. More important, it would lend his lover moral support too, so that
Sandy wouldn't be the only one on the set in the going around full-time in
the rude nude.

Somewhat defensively he added that why shouldn't he run around stark naked
in the tropical jungle. Clothes would only soak up the sweat that poured
out of them, take up the mud and dust all around them, or get soggy from
the frequent rains. Might as well go naked and take a quick shower anytime
they needed one. Indeed the boy liked to soap down and rinse off in
afternoon rain showers.

"What's so great about clothing anyway!" the boy challenged his elder with
the heartfelt wisdom of all of his eighteen years.

Nicholls smiled at the naivete and simple loyalty of his script boy. How
could he fault a young man for taking the side of the youth he loved. A
hopeless romantic himself and increasingly sentimental as he approached
fifty, the director's attitude toward the two youngsters was becoming
increasingly avuncular. These were nice kids with whom he hoped he could
work for years into the future.

"Ah, moral support, Terry. Yes I can understand that. So OK, go ahead with
your plans. Of course, it helps that you and Sandy are the kind of pretty
boys who like strutting their stuff anyway. And it does square with the
Jungle Boy franchise. I can see that you two were made for each other. So
if this is what you want Terry, as your boss I won't insist that you put
your pants back on. You are both very easy on the eyes. With a face like
yours Terry, that trim body, awesome abs and and fine firm derriere, you
could be in the movies too. Here let me get a good look at you."

He signaled the boy to twirl around to show off his back and bum. The boy
complied, though a little puzzled because he knew the director was as
straight as they come, though very friendly to gays. Actually Nicholls
wanted to appraise the script boy for a possible role in the next movie,
running around naked with his lover.

Nicholls had known that his script boy was cute and gay, but he had always
looked on him as an assistant on the set. Now, for the first time, Terry
impressed hims as a desirable young male, with looks good enough to go
before the camera. The director was impressed by Terry's trim athletic
body. It was the the epitome of the modern ideal of the slender ephebe,
just the type of young male that Hollywood was hot for these days. Oh macho
heroes still got good roles, but cute lads like Sandy and Terry were all
the rage.

Like his new boyfriend, Terry had a well defined musculature, tight and
taut without a bit of excess flesh. His shoulders were not so broad as
Sandy's since Terry was more a runner more than a swimmer. His chest
sported squared off pectorals accented by tiny red aureoles, a washboard
six pack flanking his median line, and prominent ribs. His skin was
flawless and deeply bronzed from exposure to the sun. His genitals, though
well formed, did not thrust themselves out from the groin aggressively but
hung flat against the fork of his legs; the sheath of his cock completely
covered the head with the folded tip extending perhaps a finger's breadth
farther.

It would be a great selling point for the movie if a real-life pair of
lovers were the stars. The kid certainly looked scrumptious, his red-headed
blue eyed good looks a fine match for with the yellow haired beauty of his
lover. Both were incredibly pretty lads, with fine almost elfin
features. Both had smooth hairless slender bodies, with no sign of tan
lines. Very shapely rumps too. Boys have different asses from gals of
course, less outwardly curvy, with flatter, squared off buttocks with a
sharper cleavage that dimpled when they walked. The gay audience would go
gaga with those two heating up the screen.

For their next Jungle Boy picture maybe he should put Sandy and Terry in a
movie adventure together, something with dinosaurs maybe, hmmn. A remake of
'One Million BC' or, even better, 'When Dinosaurs Ruled the
Earth'. Nicholls knew that last film was a perpetual gay favorite because
of unusual casting and costume for the 1960s. The leading man was a British
actor whose slender physique and pretty boy features were a welcome change
of pace from the macho muscle-builder types usually cast in such roles. His
loincloth amounted to little more than a G-string, leaving him totally bare
on the sides with only two triangles fore and aft. If he had showed up like
that on any beach in the US in those days, he would have been arrested for
public indecency. Good thing the location footage was done in the Canary
Islands.

Still a possible dinosaur picture was one notion that the veteran director
would keep to himself for the time being. A thought struck the director. If
the next Jungle Boy movie were say a dinosaur picture, the script wouldn't
even have to explain or justify the boys' perpetual nudity. Clothing just
hadn't been invented yet! Now there was a thought that would surely please
his producer Martin Fletcher, always a stickler for verisimilitude. He
would have to talk Fletch around to putting cavemen in a picture with
dinosaurs. Although the combo was a Hollywood staple, everyone knew that
the dinosaurs died out more than 60 million years before the first hominids
emerged in Africa.

The producer walked around the encampment with his now naked script boy in
tow. The kid looked ever so cute clad only in his production baseball cap
with a clipboard held at the ready: an amusing combination of
professionalism and exhibitionism. Some of the crew gave the nude boy a
thumbs up or slapped his rump affectionately as he went by.

Others shook their heads, amused but tolerant when Nicholls explained that
Terry was just showing solidarity with his boyfriend. This was a Hollywood
crew, so nobody was bothered much by public nudity or that a couple of
pretty gay kids had fallen in love. They were eighteen and goodlooking;
their juices were flowing. What else was new?

			Chapter 4. Success

The producer and director decided to write in a small role for Terry at the
end of the movie to introduce him to the movie-going public as part of the
buildup to the follow-on picture. The gossip machine in Hollywood was
already all abuzz about the relationship on location between the star of
the latest Jungle Boy picture and the pretty script boy. So Terry was
included as one of the small band of infiltrators who would assault the
fortress of the evil sorcerer and retrieve the final orb of power.

Unfortunately the inexperienced actors took a wrong cue from the assistant
director, running to their left instead of his left, that is their
right. That direction sent them running through a stand of elephant grass,
a plant much like saw grass but taller than a man whose stems and long
leaves were embedded with silicates that turned them into blades capable of
cutting the skin. The narrow hedgerow of elephant grass flayed their hides
during their brief passage through it. What happened afterwards made the
situation much worse. The clearing beyond was dotted with colonies of fire
ants. Now unlike termites which build high mounds that are easy to
recognize, fire ants build nests that are hard to spot, often under timber,
logs, rocks, or in built up areas, under pavers and bricks. Even in an open
grassy field like the one the actors found themselves in, their nests are
domes no higher than 16 inches (40 cm), impossible to sidestep in the
grass. So the boys blundered into the fire ant colony, tripped and rolled
on the ground, with the most lamentable results.

The four young actors, all totally nude, stopped their 'attack' and started
howling and stamping, slapping at their own bodies, jumping up and down as
the fire ants swarmed over their legs and torsos and started biting and
stinging. Yes, fire ants do both. A fire ant's vicious bite is not itself
poisonous, but it does anchor the creature long enough so it can inject its
venom with the stinger at the end of its abdomen.

Poor Terry and Sandy. The youngsters hardly knew which way to turn. They
couldn't go back through the elephant grass, that was for sure. Their
distress was very great and it was hard for them to understand the
conflicting directions everyone was shouting at them. It did not help that
the way they were carrying on looked absolutely hilarious to everyone else,
jumping up and down, slapping at themselves, howling. It was like something
out of Keystone Kops and just a frantic. Many of the crew were holding
their sides they were laughing so hard. The manic boys ran in all
directions till corralled by the crew and led over the aid man. Meanwhile
Nicholls and the second unit director came running up with a mobilcam to
capture what happened.

Terry and Sandy's injuries were the worse. The other actors were at least
four years older and had got their wits about them quicker, running out of
the danger zone. The aid man and his helper cleaned and disinfected the
cuts on their bodies from the elephant grass then started removing any
remaining fire ants. Most had dropped off already but the boy's frantic
efforts has killed more than a few, separating the head from the bodies of
the ants, which had to be pulled loose from their skin. Some of the stings
were in the most sensitive areas possible, including the scrotum and the
anus. The medical treatment indicated for fire ant attack was a topical
steroid cream which reduced the intense itching a sting left behind. The
boys were placed belly down on a table side by side as the aid men worked
on their neither regions. Sandy heard the whir of a camera behind them.

"Your filming this, Jim? "he asked incredulous.

"Of course, all this footage with the fire ants is a shoo in for the
'Making Of' video.

"Whaaat!!" the boys cried together. "You've got to be kidding."

"Not at all. And if you think about it rationally, like the two
professionals I know you to be, you will understand that too and accept
it."

The two boys looked at each other temporarily rendered speechless. Suddenly
Terry spoke up.

"You mean that the video is going to show close ups of my butt getting
first aid, including fingers spreading steroid cream on my anal ring? What
will my folks think when they see their kid not only running around
starkers, but getting close and personal first aid for his burning
asshole?"

Nicholls shrugged and said ever so casually.

"Oh, I imagine about the same thing Sandy's folks will say when the view
the footage of that giant leach being detached from his perineum. Both
sequences will have tight close ups of your respective nether
regions. Really, the footage is all very clinical. Though I suppose your
gay audience won't see it that way. They will likely get hard seeing you
two boys stark naked, bent over at the waist, rumps in the air, legs spread
wide, cock and balls dangling temptingly between, with obviously male hands
probing at your nether orifices. For them it will be like a promise of
heavenly delights. Is that going to be a problem boys? "

The two youths looked at each other in dismay. "Nooo!" they wailed in
unison. "We can never go home again -- never show our faces there."

But of course they did -- to a warm welcome from both families. The
embarrassing sequences actually generated as much sympathy as
amusement. Anyone could see that these kids were real troopers. Despite
their discomfort and embarrassment, they had gone back to work after four
days, long enough for the red pustules to fade so they would not show on
screen. As Nicholls himself told Fletcher:

"Those two kids are something else. So maybe they are flighty and naughty
and you can't keep either of 'em in a pair of pants for long, but they have
grit."

The viewing public took them to their hearts. Skeptics who wondered if
anyone could ever replace the original Jungle Boy were happy to see that
the franchise was in good hands. And the next installment promised a
co-starring role for the real life lover of the principal star.

Terry and Sandy were inseparable back in Hollywood, where the rest of the
film was shot on sound stages, or in front of a green screen, or on the
back lot. They filmed Sandy's confrontation with CGI monsters, interiors,
underwater shots in the jungle pool, that sort of thing. Sandy's swimming
scenes were a sensation. He was a terrific swimmer. On one long take, the
camera followed him continuously for three minutes underwater without a cut
before he took a breath from the air hose. No stunt man needed.

During post-production, Sandy took Terry home with him to Florida to show
him off to his folks. They quickly warmed up to the bright and chatty
script boy turned actor, accepting him as a member of the family, even
according him the privilege of prancing around nude out back by the
swimming pool. Well they were doctors after all. Both sets of parents
attended the premiere in Hollywood too. Terry thought he would just die
when they viewed the Making of Video together, especially the closeups of
their anuses, but his mother surprised him, letting him off easy, reminding
him that she had attended to that orifice many times when he was in
diapers, so it was no big deal really.

To help promote the picture, the boys were interviewed on television by
talk-meister Hal Browder on his long running late night show. Browder
usually launched right into the confrontational style that had made him
rich and famous. This time he smiled benignly at the slender young men next
to him and directly addressed the studio and TV audiences.

"As you know, twenty years ago, this show helped launch the career of the
first Jungle Boy, Jason Eberly. Tonight I wish to welcome the new Jungle
Boy, eighteen year old actor Sandy Barnett. That pretty little red head
sitting next to him is his boyfriend, Terry Knowles. As practically
everyone knows, they met on the set of the first of a new series of Jungle
Boy pictures, where Terry was the script boy. He even got a small part at
the end of the movie. Let's have a round of applause for these two upcoming
young actors."

"You boys certainly look scrumptious in those billowing white shirts open
to the waist to display your smooth tight chests and those form fitting
dark trousers. Is that an indication that your next picture is a pirate
movie?"

"Hardly, Mr. Browder.

"Hal, please."

"Hal then. Our next picture is about cave men against dinosaurs, and we
won't be wearing anything at all for that, not even skimpy loincloths, with
the excuse that clothing hasn't been invented yet. As for these clothes,
well we just like dressing comfortably."

"In your case doesn't comfortably often mean not getting dressed at all. I
understand you run around your backyard stark naked. Also you have been
seen frequenting a notorious nudie beach."

"Now that's hardly a scandal these days, certainly much less than when you
first braced Jason with it on your show twenty years ago. As you know
neither of us is body shy. I am a swimmer, so I introduced Terry to that
nudie beach. He is a runner, so we sometimes run the trails of the state
park next door. The whole park is clothing optional. We like to keep in
shape to look good in front of the camera and for each other too. You don't
know how much fun it is running behind Terry, watching his buns clenching
and flexing as he lopes along. Once or twice, it got me so hot, I had to
drag him off the trail into the bushes for a quick shag. I don't mind
admitting that. We are two teenagers in love, and torrid sex is a big part
of our relationship."

"Sure we run around in the nude rather a lot. We rather like being naked;
we like people seeing us naked; and I dare say we please most of those who
do see us. It's not like we have anything to hide, not after all those nude
shots in the movie and those revealing scenes in the 'Making Of' video not
to mention some revealing stuff on the web."

[Applause]

"Indeed, we actually had to look long and hard for something that hadn't
been publicly shown before. Folks, appearing now on the monitors are stills
of Terry and Sandy at a recent Halloween party. Don't you just love their
harlequin costumes. If you look close you can see both costumes are made of
body paint and nothing else."

The young actors grinned at the pictures of them in their outrageous
Halloween "costumes". Terry's harlequin pattern left only one foot and the
opposite hand unpainted. His limbs were alternately solid white or red with
the torso a patchwork of red and white diamonds down to his adam's girdle
while his genitals were a solid white. Sandy looked fully dressed "wearing"
a painted on green and yellow tunic with a black belt, white tights, black
boots, and green gloves. His balls were the white of the tights, but his
cock the yellow of the trim of the tunic.

"We won first prize for couples" Terry added enthusiastically.

At Browder's nod, the studio monitors suddenly flashed photos of the two
harlequins taken from behind. Unknown to them till it was too late, their
artist friend who had done the body paint job could not resist the
temptation to add to the original concept. In Sandy's case, that meant a
green spiral whorl about a hand span across centered on and leading
inexorably to his nether hole. Terry's red and white color scheme was the
inspriation for the standard concentric red and white target painted across
his butt, his anal ring the dead center.

[Hoots and whistles and cheers from the audience]

"Well said, Sandy. Now I know this is early days, but what is your take on
the phenomenal popularity of the Jungle Boy series over the years. Sure,
the special effects, the action, and high adventure appeal to men and boys,
but why is it so popular with women too, given the often explicit gay
themes.  And what do you bring to the franchise?"

"Well, I think its appeal for women is based on the same psychology as that
of the Japanese art form, bishonen manga, that is comic books about gay
twinks in love. The comics are drawn by women and sold to women who like
reading about and looking at drawings of pretty lads in a physical and
romantic relationship. In a normal novel where boy meets boy, women readers
are supposed to identify with the female lead. Now, that is easier in a
text novel, which is just words on paper or an electronic reader. All the
pictures are formed by the imagination in the minds of the readers, so the
women can easily imagine themselves in the story and enjoy it
vicariously. With images it is harder to identify with the female lead and
much easier to see her as a rival."

"In the movies especially, the female lead is a real person, often a famous
actress. Not only is she an unbeatable rival, her body gets in the way,
blocking the view of the sexy male bodies the women fans really lust
after. With two pretty boys on the screen, you get rid of the potential for
rivalry and provide viewers two sexy male bodies to ogle and fantasize
about. No matter what the camera angle or who is on top, there is a pretty
male in view at all times."

"These days, most of a century after women's liberation really got started,
modern women are men's equals, ready to look on men candidly as sex objects
themselves. We pretty gay twinks make that safe for them. Little guys like
us are no threat to women. We don't threaten to physically overpower them,
not like a big macho bruiser might. Also, as short as we are, we stand eye
to eye. Women don't have to look up at us just to carry on a conversation.
Whether they realize it or not, men talk always down to women, just from
their difference in size, what biologists call sexual dimorphism. Twinks
like Terry and me are slightly built so we are no bigger than our female
fans. As gays in real life, we don't look at women like straight guys
do. Gay guys can have women friends because there is no sexual tension
between them."

"Even the macho guys don't mind us much. Both as twinks and as gays, we are
just not in the same league with them. I mean no one would take either of
us for a lumberjack. So for them, our movies are really comedies about bare
assed pansy punks saving the world. And our appeal to the gay audience is
obvious. I hope that doesn't sound like film school psychobabble."

"No, no. Not at all. I'd say your insights are valuable. You really have a
head on your shoulders, Sandy Barnett. Now what about the second part of my
question?"

"Oh, right. You asked what I bring to the franchise."

"He's gorgeous!" piped up Terry. "That's what he brings to the franchise!
He is the most beautiful boy I ever laid eyes on, a walking wet dream."

[Laughter]

"Ha, ha, ha. Thanks Terry for the endorsement. Yes, of course there's my
pretty boy good looks, my athletic physique, and, it has to be said, my
willingness to prance around in front of the camera with absolutely nothing
on. Oh lots of actor will do occasional nude scenes, but going stark naked
for a whole movie is something else. Outside of actual porn only a few
would do that."

"Or would look as good as you doing it." Terry added.

"Terry is part of it too, you know Hal. He is a natural actor and plays off
me really well. That is why were are going to star together in the next
picture."

"That must be something of a first for Hollywood, two openly gay guys, real
life boyfriends, doing the leads of a major motion picture."

"Actually we won't just be boyfriends by the time shooting starts. We will
be newlyweds, so to speak, joining our fortunes and lives in a civil
union. We are announcing that on your show. Only our parents know already."

[Long and thunderous applause]

"Well congratulations Terry and Sandy. I wish you all the best. We are
running out of time so let me just add my heartfelt thanks for making the
announcement on my show. It is great publicity for all of us. Folks, let's
hear it for the happy couple."

[Applause with a standing ovation]

That is the story of how Sandy and Terry got started on their way to the
Hollywood A-list.