Date: Fri, 09 Jun 2000 09:24:04 PDT From: Chip Dyp <chipdyp@hotmail.com> Subject: Submissions: Misery 4 The following program contains material suited for a mature audience. If you are not over 18 you should be leaving now. Of course I can't control you and neither can anyone else really. This story in complete fiction. This story in no way speculates, indicates, or reports the sexuality, the behaviour, or any relationship that anyone mentioned may have. And now for our feature presentation. Viewer Discretion is advised... My web site is located at http://www.geocities.com/chipdyp/index.html Misery 4 by: Chip Dyp (chipdyp@hotmail.com) I groaned when I opened my eyes. I was so hard. Scott was standing in front of me, wearing nothing but a smile. He looked so beautiful. "Hey beautiful, c'mere," He said gesturing and giving me a wink. "I thought we decided that we weren't going to do this tonight, Scott." "I changed my mind. I really need it, Mitchel. I need it really bad." "Well, if you really need it." I stood up and walked over to where Scott was standing. "That's better," Scott whispered. He wrapped his arms around me. He smiled and took hold of my stiff prick. "I think this will do nicely." Scott slowly stroked my hard, dripping cock. I groaned as Scott teased my balls, slowly rolling them around in the taut skin sac. I nibbled on Scott's ear and whispered, "You make me so hot, Scott." "You make me so hard," Scott whispered in reply. "I want you in me, Mitchel. I want you in me right now." "Your wish is my command." I pushed Scott down on the bed and lifted his legs. I positioned my cock up against Scott's pink rosebud and pushed steadily. We groaned in unison, as my cock was slowly swallowed by his tight, hot hole. "Oh, God! That's so good. Give me more, Scott. Give me more." I smiled and kept pushing more and more of my hard cock into Scott. He was going to get everything I could give him. "Oh yeah, baby. You're so good. Now fuck me like an animal! Fuck me long and hard! Take me." I took hold of Scott's hips and started thrusting savagely. Scott wanted to get fucked, who was I to argue with him. "You're all mine aren't you? You like getting fucked hard like a little slut, don't you." Scott groaned. "Fuck me harder. Make me your fuck toy." I pulled out of Scott, and rolled him over. I rammed my cock back into Scott and he began moaning and yelling in pleasure. He was begging me to fuck him harder. Taking hold of his hips, I pounded his tight little hole even harder. "Oh God, yes!" Scott thrust his hips a little higher into the air and pushed back, trying to bury more of my pole inside him. "You're so good, Mitchel." "How good am I?" "You're the best." "That's right, baby. I'm the best." I reached around and took hold of Scott's hard, slick cock. Roughly, I started jerking his leaking prick making him scream out loud. "You like that, you little slut?" "Oh, yes. Stroke it faster! Stroke it faster!!!" I continued pistoning my cock in and out of his hot hole and stroking his hard cock with wild abandon. "I'm gonna cum!" I screamed slamming my tumescent member deep into Scott. "Cum for me! Fill me up!" Scott screamed back. "Oh, God! I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" I grabbed Scott's hips and kept my prick buried deep inside him as shot after shot of my hot cream coursed into his body. Scott started twitching as I kept tugging on his cock. He groaned loudly, and shot his own load all over the sheets. We both fell forward, collapsing onto the bed. I lifted up, and pulled my softening cock out of Scott's hole. Scott rolled over and pulled me back down onto him. "You're so good, Mitchel. You're gonna have to fuck me like I'm a little whore again in a bit." "I should paddle your ass for being such a slut." "Maybe you should," Scott whispered before kissing me. "Maybe I will," I whispered, after breaking the kiss. "I'd like that. But I wanna do something else, too." "What did you want to do, baby?" "I wanna fuck that sweet ass of yours. I wanna make you beg for more." "Mmmmm, shouldn't take much prodding with that big stick of yours to make me beg." I kissed Scott again and slowly started stroking his growing cock. Scott let out a whimper and kissed my neck. "If you keep tugging on my big stick, I'm not going to last long enough to fuck you." "We wouldn't want that now, would we?" I rolled off Scott and lifted my legs. I looked over at Scott, and winked. "Are you waiting for an engraved invitation, or what?" "You little tease. We're going to do it my way. Move into the centre of the bed, and close your eyes." "Mmmmm, a surprise? I like surprises." "You'll love this surprise," Scott promised. He smacked my ass when I wiggled my hips seductively. "You gonna spank me?" "Nope, I like milky white skin." "Really?" I asked seductively. "Uh huh. Now, roll over and close your eyes." I did as Scott asked and giggled as he tied my arms to the bedposts. "You afraid I'll try and escape?" Scott didn't say anything. He just went to work, teasing the head of my cock with his limber tongue. I let out a groan and lifted my legs. Scott's tongue moved lower and lower, drawing circles around my virgin hole. I gasped as his tongue darted into my hot tunnel, coating it with saliva. "Oh, ohhhhhhh. Right there, right there," I moaned. I heard Scott giggle, and then felt his tongue as it dove past my pink rosebud. "Keep your eyes closed," Scott told me. He pulled away and climbed up on the bed. "Open your mouth, baby. I want you to get me all wet." I opened my mouth and started licking and sucking on Scott's hard cock. It was surprisingly dry. He took hold of my legs and bent me in half. He kept thrusting his hips feeding me with more and more of his cock. I was surprised when I felt something press against my spit-covered hole. I opened my eyes and looked up at Clint, Scott's brother. "Surprised?" He asked as Scott shoved his cock deep into me. "What are you doing here?" I asked as Clint pulled out of my mouth. "I'm not the only one here," Clint replied pointing off to the side. Lying on the bed beside me was Dave. His brother Bob was fucking him hard and making him moan. Dave looked over at me and winked and Bob kept pummelling his hole. "Scott--" I began, but Clint cut me off. "He's a little busy right now, he's taking your virginity, remember?" Clint leaned out of the way, letting me watch Scott fuck me. "Why are you here?" "Why am I here? That's a very good question, but you're asking the wrong person." He looked to the side and I followed his gaze. Bob was now fucking Puffy like a mad man. Puffy looked at me and smiled, "Aren't they great?" "This has got to be a dream," I whispered looking back up at Clint. "Yes, it has to be a dream, doesn't it?" Clint smiled. "But it was an interesting dream, wasn't it?" Clint snapped his fingers and I woke with a start. I jerked a little and looked over at Scott. He was fast asleep, and still curled up beside me. There was a little rivulet of drool running down his cheek, but he looked so beautiful just lying there. I groaned and looked at my alarm clock. It was a little after five in the morning, and I was as hard as a rock. "What a fucking dream," I whispered to no one in particular. Slipping out of the bed, I walked quietly into the bathroom. I looked down at my cock and then back at the mirror. I didn't want to jerk off. I just wanted to sleep. Standing in front of the toilet, I waited until my cock softened enough so I could pee. After I finished at the toilet, I washed my hands and walked back to the bed. Scott was still lying in the bed, his eyes closed and looking as angelic as ever. I slid back into the bed and pulled the covers over me. Scott let out a little groan and rolled closer to me. He mumbled something, and then relaxed in my embrace. I smiled at Scott and closed my eyes. When I woke up later that morning, Scott wasn't in the bed. I rolled out and grabbed my robe from the closet. Scott's clothes were on the floor beside the bed, so I knew he couldn't have gotten far. I found Scott as I was walking down the hallway. He was sitting in a patio chair by the pool, his head in his hands. I slunk through the kitchen and quietly pried open the patio doors. "Morning, baby. How are you feeling?" I asked as I stood in the doorway. "Mitchel," Scott said, standing up. He was dressed only in his boxers. "I'm okay." "That's good to hear," I replied walking out onto the cool patio, "Did you want some breakfast?" "Mitchel, we have to talk." Scott walked past me and into the kitchen. I followed him inside and closed the patio door. "What did you want to talk about?" I asked as I sat down at the table. I figured Scott was going to tell me what the deal was between him and his dad. I wasn't expecting what Scott said next. "Look Scott, I really loved what happened last night, but I don't think we should see each other anymore." "What?" My mouth dropped. I stared at Scott until he continued. "I don't think we should see each other anymore." "Why not?" I stood up and walked over to where Scott was standing. I touched his shoulder and he flinched away. "Because we'd both get hurt if we continued on. There is no way that the two of us could have the relationship we both want." "Yeah, but..." "Mitchel, I thought about this a lot last night. Trust me, there is no way this would work." "Why?" I was very frustrated. I didn't know why Scott felt the way he did. Scott sat down at the table and looked up at me. "Look, if we had a relationship we'd have to keep it secret." "I wouldn't have a problem with that," I offered hopefully. "It's not that easy, Mitchel. Someone would catch on. And when they caught on, they'd make our life a living hell." "But we'd have each other," I argued. "Surely that counts for something." Scott shook his head. "Mitchel..." "Wait, let me finish, please," I interrupted. Scott nodded and continued looking in his lap. "All right." "We could keep things secret. No one would have to know." "Someone would find out, Mitchel. They always do. The media would figure it out and then they'd start reporting it, and then my career would be over." "How would the media figure it out? If the only people that know are you and me, then the leak would have to come from us." "Unless they used a scanner to listen in to cell phone calls. Mitchel it's just too dangerous." "We could make it work, Scott. I know we could." "Mitchel, you have no idea the kind of scrutiny I'm under. People write stories about my brothers and me. People on the Internet speculate about our sexuality. If there was even the slightest hint that I'm gay, it would be in XY, Out, the Advocate and half a dozen other magazines in no time." "But you could work through it. We could work through it," I replied. I had just found love. I didn't want to lose it so fast. "You have no idea how hard it is being in the public eye. I couldn't handle the pressure of being out and gay." "But we would be together..." I pleaded. Scott stood up and turned on me. "You have no idea about what it's like being famous. Eventually you'd tire of fucking someone famous, and then what? I'd be alone. I'd have no family. No career. I'd be a pariah in the music community." "You think I'm dating you because you're famous? Thanks a lot. I wouldn't fuck you because you're famous. I'm not a slut." "Maybe I should just go." "Fine, get dressed and I'll take you back to your hotel." "I can take a cab." "You have $80 for a cab back into Beverly Hills?" Scott looked away from me. "Get dressed. I'll be out in the car." I walked into my bedroom and grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I dressed and walked out to the car. Scott followed shortly after and slid into the passenger seat. I looked at Scott and then started the car. Scott didn't look at me, didn't talk to me during the drive to the hotel. When I pulled up to the front door, Scott got out of the car and turned to face me. "I'm sorry this didn't work out Mitchel." I looked right at Scott and replied, "I'm sorry that you didn't even give it a chance." Without waiting for a reply, I drove back onto the street. I glanced back at Scott as he looked at me and then walked into the hotel. I wiped away a tear and headed for home. When I got there, my dad's Lexus was in the driveway. I slipped in the front door and snuck down the hallway to my room. I pulled off my t-shirt and looked down at the bed. The sheets were still rumpled from last night's activities. I pulled the sheets from the bed and hurled them in the corner of the room. My bottom lip was quivering as I struggled to keep from crying but I wasn't strong enough. I sat down on the stripped bed and started crying. "Scott's dad just called. He said that he was sick," My dad said, walking into the room. "I take it that it was a sudden illness?" "Yeah, sudden illness," I replied quietly. My dad sat down on the bed beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Did you want to tell me what happened?" "I'm not famous." "So, you're not famous. You could be if you wanted to be. But that really doesn't explain what happened." "I don't understand the pressures of being famous. Scott's career is more important than any relationship that we might have. Oh, and eventually I'd tire of fucking someone famous, and at that point I'd dump him." "So he is gay." "Yeah, he's as gay as I am." "And you guys, um..." "Yeah, we did some stuff. We didn't need to use the condoms though." "That's remarkably discreet." "Thanks," I replied, wiping a tear from my eye. "Well, I think he's wrong about the pressures of being famous. If you didn't understand the pressures, you would've gone into the music industry." "That's not the only reason I don't go into music," I whispered quietly. "No, it's probably not. But, I think that on a subconscious level, you know how hard it would be to have to put yourself out there day after day, night after night." "I guess." "Mitchel, I know that sometimes I can be a little pushy, but the reason I haven't pushed you harder is that I know that you don't want it. It's not because I don't think you couldn't do it, it's because you'd hate it, and I'd lose you. I think, no, I know you are a very talented musician, and I honestly think that you aren't making the most of your gift. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do." "Thanks," I said. I looked over at my dad, and smiled at him. "Now, why else did he say you couldn't have a relationship? I'm getting old." "His musical career. He doesn't want to be a pariah in the music community." "The career, I can understand." "What?" I asked with a pained expression. "I can understand where he's coming from. Mitchel, he's not only thinking of his career, he's thinking of his brothers. If he were outted, The Moffats wholesome image would be tarnished in many people's minds. Capitol Records might even tear up their contract. It would be more difficult for the company and the band to market themselves to the target market, teenaged girls." "I guess, but I don't think he's doing it for his brothers. I get the feeling that he doesn't get along with his brothers or with his dad." "I get that feeling too," Dad said. "How does he think his family would react to him being gay?" "Not well," I said, looking at the floor. "He was panicking when he realized that he was late. He also said that his dad hates fags." "I've heard that too. He allegedly threatened one of the technicians in the studio." "Oh. So he's not just paranoid." "No, unfortunately he's not just being paranoid. If he had a supportive family, he might be willing to take the chance." "I guess." "C'mon, let's go get some breakfast." "What about the other reason?" "What? That you'd tire of fucking someone famous? If I really thought that you wanted to fuck famous people, I'd make some introductions," Dad smiled. He stood up and took my hand. "Thanks. You won't tell anyone about Scott, will you?" "Tell anyone what about Scott?" My dad replied with a smile and a wink. I smiled at my dad and followed him to the kitchen, "So how do you like the car?" "I like it a lot. It's a lot of fun to drive." "Maybe you and I'll have to go for a spin." "I'd like that," I replied, nodding. I sat down at the breakfast counter, and watched as my dad pulled the fixings for breakfast from the fridge. "So what do you want?" "Bacon and cheese omelette?" I asked. "All right. Cheddar and mozzarella?" "Yes please." "Why don't you come over here, and fry up some hash browns?" "Okay." "Go put a shirt on first, you don't want to get hit by some hot grease." "Yeah, I guess." I walked back into my bedroom and pulled on a t-shirt. The sheets were still piled in the corner. I looked at them for a few second and then picked them up. On my way back to the kitchen, I dumped the sheets into the washer and started it up. "Washing the sheets?" My dad asked. He was slicing up onions for his omelette. "Yeah, they needed to be washed anyway." "Well, start cooking up those hash browns. Did you want anything else in your omelette besides bacon and cheese?" "Nope." I turned on the grill and dumped some butter onto the flat metal surface. Dad had pulled a bag of hash browns out of the freezer while I had been putting on my shirt. I tore open the bag and dumped the nuggets of potatoes onto the hot grill. "Should I cook the whole bag?" "Yeah. I don't know about you, sport, but I'm hungry." "So how was Vegas?" "Not too bad, the guy I was there to see wasn't as good as I had heard. I think I'm going to recommend not signing him to a contract at this time. With a little more work, he'd be a good prospect." "So why don't you get him under contract, and work with him?" "Because, we are only allowed to sign acts that are ready for prime time. The money guys are looking for a return on investment of less that a year to eighteen months." "That's dumb." "I know that, you know that. But not all the younger VP's understand, and they've managed to convince the president to go with them." "Can't you talk with him?" "He doesn't listen to me anymore, but let's not talk about work." "All right," I said. "So who were you visiting with at the Luxor?" "Mr. Moore, and Mr. Loewen." "How are they doing? Aren't they in San Fran working with an internet start-up?" "Yeah, they are. The company is slowly but surely growing." We finished our breakfast and washed the dishes together. We both had a quick shower and then took the Porsche out to Marina Del Ray for the afternoon. It was good spending some time with Dad. No matter how busy he got at work, he'd always try to make some time for me, and I loved him for it. As we drove back to the house, Misery began playing on the radio. My dad looked over at me as I switched lanes and smiled when I changed the station. If Scott didn't need me, I didn't need him. Continued.