The Casting Couch

by Kevin Timmons (as told to Richard Pickman)

We were filming the scene where Marky (yes, he does prefer Mark now, but I can get away with Marky), hands cuffed behind his back, is humping himself on Beej's dick while he's chowing down on Benji, and . . .

Got your attention? Thought that might do it.

I suppose you're wondering if I'm talking about whom you think I'm talking about. Well, if you suspect that I'm talking about Mark Wahlberg, you're absolutely right.

That one's not exactly tough to get, now is it? However, if you figured out the other two were Brendan Fraser and Ben Affleck, then you get bonus points.

* * * * * *

Back with me yet? I had a feeling you might get lost for a bit with that visual. Trust me; the reality was even better.

You're probably thinking that this is just a fantasy of mine. Well, guys, I've got the DVDs to prove otherwise.

It's not from early in their careers before they were well-known, either, when they were poor starving actors. I shot 'Convictions', the film I just mentioned, less than two years ago.

You can call me Kevin Timmons. That's nowhere close to my real name, of course. Just because I'm letting you in on this doesn't mean I'm going to tell you everything. Why this name, in particular? Well, Kevin Richardson is the Backstreet Boy I enjoy the most, and Jeff Timmons is my favorite member of 98 Degrees. 'Enjoy' and 'member.' Maybe I'll give you details later?

Myself, I prefer to keep a low profile. The money I make from my private films gives me the freedom to do pretty much whatever I want. I live in a modest mansion, travel when and where the mood takes me, and occasionally make quirky, art house independent films for a more general distribution. I rarely use Big Names in them, though. My indies are for fun. Celebrities are my business.

That's not to say I don't enjoy making adult movies with the likes of Tom, Nicolas, Leonardo, Antonio (both of them), Brad (all of them), Keanu, and Casper (to name a few). I do. I mean, who wouldn't get off on having the most famous and attractive men at your beck and call, ready to do anything you want? And I DO mean anything. I've got the notion of mixing business and pleasure down to an art form.

Like Mark, for example. I remember seeing 'The Big Hit' and thinking, "What a waste of some really good shower scenes!" Not long after that, I got Mark, Antonio, Lou, and Bokeem together and filmed my own version, exploring their relationship from, as Blaine and Antoine would put it, 'A male point of view'. The first shower scene, where Mark's getting buttfucked by Antonio while Lou's being thoroughly reamed by Bokeem, is one of my personal favorites. Lou had problems sitting for days afterward, but it was worth it. That film, no surprise, was one of my top moneymakers, too.

By now you're wondering HOW I'm getting these straight-as-an-arrow studs to do gay erotic movies. They're all really in the closet? Come on, there aren't THAT many gay actors in Hollywood. Bribery? Hey, even I don't have enough money to pay them to do the kind of stuff they do in my movies. Don't pay them at all, in fact. Blackmail? Threats to friends and family? What kind of a guy do you think I am?

No, the trick is magic. Wizardry, Spellcraft, the Power of Enchantment, the Mystic Arts.

Skeptical? Let me just say three things. Adam Sandler. The Bush/Gore Presidential election. Eminem. Think supernatural forces were NOT involved in any of those? You might as well stop reading now.

* * * * * *

Decided to continue? Good. By the way, none of those were mine. Too high profile, not my style at all. Though I have to admit my gratitude for Mr. Mathers' sudden notoriety. I've only done one movie with the little shit, but what with sales of that one, he's going to be the victim in a whole hell of a lot more prison rape scenes, if I have anything to say about it.

And I do.

No, I can't tell you who's responsible for Emmy's success, or the other two things I mentioned. The consequences for violating the Code Numinous . . . well, I didn't get to be where I am today by being a suicidal idiot.

So, where was I? Oh, yes. Magic. (Not 'Magik' or 'Magyck' or any of those other New-Agey spellings. It's SO pretentious. One good way to separate the serious practitioners from the dabblers.) It does exist. Why don't you see it around as much as the old days? Several reasons.

One, the ability to manipulate magical forces is, and always has been, rare. Two, the ability remains latent unless activated, usually by a ritual, though certain objects or places can do it, too. Three, like any other ability, it has to be trained. This entails getting a teacher, since so much of the old knowledge has been hoarded and suppressed during the last few centuries, so it's not as available as it used to be. Four, it requires years of training before you can do anything significant. Five, magical energy is a renewable resource, but it takes time to be renewed, so we have to be careful not to radically deplete it. It used to be renewed more rapidly, but no longer, thanks to the change in attitude and belief in the last two centuries, which is reason six. Human beings' belief fed the Earth's pool of magic, enabling wizards and such to perform all sorts of spectacular spells in days gone by. But the Age of Reason and the Industrial Revolution helped end many peoples' attitudes toward magic. There are still those who do believe, but not anywhere near the numbers they used to be. Also, the lack of belief apparently dilutes what does come from believers, leaving mostly other natural forces to replenish magic. There's been research that started as the magical energies dwindled, that have let us convert some forms of energy into magical energy, plus finding more efficient methods of using magic. Ironically, the Scientific Method helped us regain a surprising amount of our old powers that we lost in the first place because of it.

But not like before. And some forms of magic are, not surprisingly, more energy intensive than others. That's why you won't see fireballs or people flying. Much easier to use a flamethrower, or a 747.

The more passive uses, however, have been refined to a great degree. Investments made based on the judicious use of a Future Vision spell can net millions. Industrial espionage takes on a whole new dimension when you can scry a business's deepest secrets. Access codes and passwords are useless when you can read minds. Or control them.

Each practitioner of the Art has their strengths and areas of expertise. Mine is in mental manipulation. Oh, I can do other things, but I've always had this knack for figuring out interesting ways to influence people. My Casting Couch is perhaps my greatest creation. I'll tell you about it more in just a bit.

After finishing my apprenticeship, I bid farewell to my teacher/lover to make my way in the world. I see him on the ceremonial days (Halloween, etc.) and we still get together to discuss magical theory, too.

Yes, we were both gay. It's part of the training. No, not the being gay, as such. See, sexual energy is one of the best supplements to magic, and one has to learn that with someone who can teach it to you best, based on your sexual orientation. It's about connecting with the core of your being, seeing your relation to the Powers. Magicians are the most well-balanced people in the world, at least those that survive the training.

So, I decided to move to Hollywood, since there were so many gorgeous men I could practice on.

Controlling people isn't a sign of a well-balanced person? Well, you have to understand something. Those of us who can fully wield magic are superior to the rest of you. Elitist? Egomaniacal? No, simply a statement of fact. It's always been that way. Think about it. Magical abilities enable us to live longer, stronger, healthier, smarter, and better lives overall than the Mundane. You're like a bunch of amusing chimpanzees to us. Fun to play with.

If that upsets you, well, so be it. It's not as if it really matters to me what a bunch of monkey boys thinks. Or girls, if any are reading this. It needed to be said, though, to get you to see why I do what I do, and why I don't feel the slightest shred of shame about it.

* * * * * *

Anyway, with my abilities, I was easily able to get a job in one of the major studios. I started with a middle management job, getting various underlings to do the actual work. I didn't want to call too much attention to myself, so I hired women as well as men. Of course, I hired the men for their looks as much as for their talent (or lack of it). Standard operating procedure in the City of Quicksilver Dreams. In a movie studio, even the office help is good looking. It's all about image, don't you know.

I planned to start my own small movie company even then, but I needed the capital and the contacts to do it right. Money wouldn't be a problem. I only had a few short range precognition spells, but they were more than sufficient to let me make a killing in the stock market whenever I wanted. It was easier to make the contacts, at least initially, the old-fashioned way, though, so I maneuvered myself into the talent department, the better to meet the newest, freshest, and hottest actors.

Not too long after that, I worked out the spell for the Casting Couch. I'd been doing research into Mandarin magical practices at the time. I'd learned during my later training that, throughout the history of China, the tendency for submissive behavior was, in part, caused by magic. No, I'm not saying the Chinese were drones controlled through sheer magic alone. Even that far back, there wasn't enough magic to do that. It was, in great part, cultural. Magic simply served as a useful tool to aid in maintaining the status quo.

Even centuries ago, when magic abounded, relatively speaking, the Chinese had a subtle approach to magic. Again, a great deal of that is cultural. It also means that the most powerful practitioners today are Chinese. It's almost as if they knew what was coming. I've always heard they have unusually good precognition spells. The Eastern mindset of taking the long view of things may have something to do with that.

A national tour of recently unearthed artifacts had stopped at one of the most prestigious museums in Los Angeles. While looking at some of the scrolls from the Tsongchi Dynasty (one of the early, lesser-known ones) on display, I was ecstatic to see writing in Veiled Form.

Another explanation's in order, isn't it? All true spells and magical information are written in Veiled Form of one type or another. This was an often-followed custom until several centuries ago. When religious persecution of the magically gifted increased, and the supply of magical energy to counteract it decreased, it turned from precaution to necessity. Any books you see nowadays that purport to contain real magic spells, or how to create magical items, are utter fakes. It's far too risky to have the real ones generally available. Anyone can read the words and perform the rituals, but without the Gift, and the training, the results are unpredictable. We in the Community make sure that any magical information that's available to the public is completely worthless, for everyone's good. The last time some Mundane idiot got his hands on a real spell was in the early 1900s in Russia. It was, from all accounts, a moderate level weather manipulation spell. The resulting devastation has always been thought to have been caused by a meteor strike, but now you know better.

So remember, kids, don't try magic at home, or the name of the area you live in may go down in history alongside Tunguska.

Knowing what I did about Chinese magical practices, I HAD to examine those scrolls more closely. I set up a meeting with the museum's curator, and with some good old-fashioned charm (and a little magical help), had him completely convinced I was a well-respected archaeologist doing research for a new book. As to why I wanted no one to know why I was doing this research, well, I didn't want anyone stealing my idea and going to print before me, now did I? A casual mention of how the museum (and he) would be prominently featured, and how well I expected the book to sell, was all it took for me to have access to the scrolls after closing hours for the entire month the collection was in town.

It didn't even take me a week to look through the entire collection and copy down all the hidden information. I can't tell you the details, obviously, and they'd be boring to a non-initiate anyway. Suffice it to say, it was probably the best use I've ever put my magic to.

I was also interested to discover that several of the items in the collections were magically created fakes. Obviously, someone had been here before me. Recognizing the magical 'signature' the items possessed, I knew that the individual (a very powerful magic user) must have found that the originals were magical. He was probably connected with the expedition that uncovered the artifacts in the first place. It would have been easy for him to confiscate the items and replace them with exact duplicates, undetectable except by magic. This was as much to keep them out of the hands of any Mundane who might misuse them as it was for personal gain. In fact, our belief is that, unless it's owned or has prior claim on it, any magic item so discovered is the property of the discoverer. Who knows, they may have even been made by one of his ancestors!

Why not replace the scrolls, too? Well, partly because the organic is more difficult to reproduce. Don't ask why, it's extremely technical, and, to be honest, I don't understand it all completely myself. The main reason, though, is that, since the information can only be seen by the Gifted, it doesn't need to be replaced. And if someone (like me) spots it, than it must have been Fated to be. Or so we believe, anyway.

After I got all the information, I spent almost a month studying it, cross-referencing with what I already knew. I had to cast a Literacy spell on myself so I could translate it all, since it was in an archaic version of one of the standard Oriental magic languages. You see, different languages have evolved over time specifically for the purpose of recording magical information. Another level of security, obviously. Plus, Mundane language doesn't contain many of the necessary concepts to deal with magic. It's been hard work to keep it that way, but it's part of the burden we bear, to keep the knowledge safe.

The 'Eureka' moment for me was finding the Imbedding spell. It was later when the full implications of what I'd stumbled on hit me.

* * * * * *

Another brief lesson. Everyone has a passive resistance to magic. Spells cast on somebody don't always work, and if the same spell is cast on someone repeatedly (Assuming it's the kind of spell that CAN be cast repeatedly on someone. Fireballs usually don't need to be cast on a person more than once.), they develop stronger resistance to it. Yes, you could say everyone has a sort of magical immune system. There are exceptions, and ways around it, but they're pretty rare.

Can you tell where I'm going with this? I'll explain anyway, for the slower primates in the audience. If I cast a mental control spell on one person too often, it's eventually not going to work at all. The truly powerful Domination spells are few, and of them, I only had three, and they all have a finite duration (as do most spells). Finding more, or researching new ones, would take time I no longer had. I have learned to augment hypnosis magically, and implant post-hypnotic suggestions that let me re-induce trances when I want, of course. But there's some things hypnotism can't do. Or at least, things that can't be done without exorbitant amounts of time, delicacy, and patience. Things like wholesale, radical, permanent personality changes or blind, unhesitating obedience, that only magic can accomplish in a more convenient and infallible way.

Now you can see my dilemma. The guys that I wanted in the worst way, I could only have for a relatively short time before all the spells I knew would no longer work on them. I'd always wanted some way of having longer lasting, and unconditional, control over people. And at last I'd found it!

The trick was the Imbedding spell. As such spells go, it appeared fairly standard at first. To make an item magical, spells have to be placed in them, which is also termed Imbedding. Some items are made so the magic effect is constant (good luck charms are a nice example), while others can be triggered by an event or change in the environment (an amulet that protects against lightning, for instance), or when the possessor wants to activate it (like a water breathing mask, that turns water into air).

With me so far? Well, this Imbedding spell was designed for the creation of magical furniture. Apparently, it was favored by the emperors of the time, who were amongst the only ones able to afford it. They would have a Potency spell Imbedded into their beds so they could enjoy several of their concubines in one night.

But you're thinking that the Potency spell wouldn't work after a few nights, right? Well, that's the beauty of this spell! Spells that are cast by a person on themselves don't cause that magic immune response. That's why I could cast the Literacy spell on myself repeatedly, not worrying that it would become useless before I could translate all the scrolls. The way THIS Imbedding spell was designed, it would act as if the spell was cast by the person himself. So the emperor, if he wanted, could stay in bed for the rest of his life and cavort with as many concubines as he wanted. One did, my researches indicated. He ruled the empire from his bedroom for as long as he lived.

What he hadn't counted on was the heart attack he got from all the exertion. Be careful what you wish for, I always say. I can only imagine what the funeral must have been like. Records don't say how they explained away what must have been an ear-splittingly beatific smile. Probably joy at joining his ancestors or something. What a way to go, huh?

Then, suddenly, it hit me. If I Imbedded a mind control spell into, say, a chair or sofa, and got the person sitting in it to trigger the spell, it would (since it was as though they'd cast it) ALWAYS WORK ON THEM!

* * * * * *

When I picked myself off the floor after that blinding moment of revelation, I finished translating the spell. After reading the result carefully and thoroughly, I confirmed that, yes, it would work that way! Now I just had to figure which of the spells I'd collected or invented I'd use, what to Imbed it in, and how to trigger it.

That was when the second inspiration hit me (No, I hadn't cast an Inspiration spell on myself, if that's what you were thinking. Didn't have to. Remember how I told you we were better than you? Part of the Gift is that the mind works in oddly wonderful ways like that.). It was simply too perfect. I'd create the ultimate casting couch.

It took nearly a year to make it. The instructions were specific about what the furniture had to be made from, and almost all of it was unique and expensive, the wood in particular. Many of the components of the Imbedding spell were rare. Just finding what was needed stretched my resources to the limit, much less the arrangements to buy and import them. Two vital ingredients weren't even native to this plane of existence, and let me tell you, getting things through Interdimensional Customs is an utter bitch.

Who has horns, fangs, scales and other less savory features, incidentally. I don't like to think about that period of my life. I'm not particularly proud of it, and it's one of the few things that just gives me the shivers. Especially considering how, near the end, I was starting to like her a little too much. When she did that thing with her . . .

Um, never mind.

I did manage, somehow, to obtain all the required materials.

When everything was ready, the Imbedding spell itself had to be cast on three successive nights when the moon was completely full, then the mind control spell (the most potent Domination spell I had) had to be cast on the night of the full moon following that. Maybe you're beginning to see why magical objects are so scarce, hm?

Finally, it was done. I needed to test it now, and I'd hired a secretary a few months before, in anticipation of that. Owen was one of three secretaries I had at the time (and the only one who was male) and he was something else. Visualize, if you will, a grown-up Anthony Michael Hall (think SNL, or 'Johnny Be Goode') as a redhead, but bulked up more. I'd checked him out in the company gym and shower, confirming that (a) his adorable freckles were all over and (b) his working out was definitely overcompensating for a lack in another department. Still, the result was nothing to complain about. The fact that he was actually a good secretary was pure icing, which for months I'd wanted to cover him in and lick off. Achieving that fantasy, amongst others, was what I had in mind.

I'd also checked out his aura, so I knew he was about as straight as they come. An important condition, so I could be sure this test was a thorough one.

Anyway, I made Owen clear his calender so he and I could work, possibly through most of the weekend. There was a large bonus in it for him with the overtime, and knowing how strapped for cash he was, I knew he wouldn't say no. What we were really going to work on (and the extra bonus I planned to give him) would have shocked his socks off. If all worked out, however, he'd be taking off his socks, and anything else I wanted, in a short time.

I called Owen into my office. "Sit down, Owen, and take a memo."

"Certainly, Mr. Timmons."

I began talking as he started copying. Within the first paragraph was one of the trigger phrases. The Imbedding spell allowed up to four, any of which would activate the Domination spell. I'd used them all, making each different to cover as many situations as I could.

"Read that back to me, will you, Owen?"

"Yes, Mr. Timmons.' Ignorant of his fate, he read aloud what he'd written down. As soon as he spoke the trigger phrase (And, no, I'm not going to tell you what it is, or what the other ones are, other than they're fairly innocuous. A guy's entitled to a few secrets), Owen was surrounded with a shimmering iridescent haze only visible to the Gifted. His mouth opened as if to scream, but no sound came out. The haze merged with his aura, then Owen's eyes closed as he slumped back onto the Couch.

I love this spell particularly because of its power and simplicity. I didn't have to use a long induction to get him into a trance; it puts the subject under instantly. This deep trance only lasted a few minutes, but during that time, any suggestions made are accepted wholeheartedly. It was almost like programming a computer. Any extreme changes would only last for the duration of the spell, but for that duration, Owen's personality was as malleable as clay. I could sculpt his self in any fashion, any shape, that I wanted. Complete instant brainwashing. Ain't magic a trip?

"Owen, can you hear me?"

"yes mister timmons," he mumbled.

I got up from behind my desk and stood in front of him. "Listen very carefully. You will obey any command I give you, without hesitation. I am your Master. You want to serve me, to obey me. My happiness is all that matters to you. This is your purpose, it is who you are. Do you understand?"

"yes, master, must obey you, want to serve you, my purpose, who I am, your happiness all that matters."

"Good. Now, I'm going to whisper something to you." I bent forward and cupped the side of his face in my right hand as I softly said into his right ear, "Sleeping Beauty." I paused a moment, enjoying the sandpapery yet soft feel of his five o'clock shadow, the smell of his musky aftershave and his own scent beneath it, and the knowledge of his utter powerlessness. "From now on, whenever you hear me say 'Sleeping Beauty', you will fall into a state of trance, even deeper than the one you are in now." Any trance he was in while the Domination spell was in effect would be like this initial one, permitting me to alter anything I wanted, any way I wanted, with no resistance.

And since the trances during the spell are so intense, any standard post-hypnotic suggestions (like the 'Return to this state of trance when you hear me say . . . ') work even better than normal. Even after the spell wore off in a couple of days, I could put him under again by saying 'Sleeping Beauty'. That, of course, would enable me to regain control of him. It would only be a basic hypnotic trance, but I could have him come back here and cast the Domination spell on himself as often as I wanted. Everything was now in place.

I moved to the front of my desk and leaned back casually against it. "Wake up, Owen."

His eyelids fluttered open. "I'm sorry, Master. I'm not tired, so I don't know why I dozed off like that." Another nice feature of the spell was that the subject wouldn't remember the suggestions that had been to them, or that a spell had been cast on them at all. The fact that he unselfconsciously called me 'Master' was a good indication that the spell was working. Now it was time to see how well.

"Well, Owen, I'm afraid a simple apology won't do. You've made me very unhappy."

The crestfallen look on his face was priceless. "Oh, Master, please tell me what you want me to do! I can't bear it if I've made you unhappy." Owen's sapphire eyes were glistening, on the verge of tears. Things were working beautifully.

"On your knees, Owen." The man sprang out of the coach onto the plushly carpeted floor faster than a repentant choirboy.

"Here, before me." Owen scuttled forward until he was in front of me, staring up expectantly for his next command. I looked down at his reverential expression, then at my crotch, where the head of my dick was pushing my pants out. A slowly spreading wet stain was even more evidence, as if more was needed, of my complete arousal. I'd deliberately taken off my underwear before Owen had entered the office. Looking back into Owen's face, I cocked my head to the side and gave him a questioning look. His eyes widened in understanding. He reached forward and unzipped my pants. My unrestrained dick barely missed slapping him in the face. He started gently licking it from head to base, then wrapped his lips around it, bobbing up and down as he got more of it into his mouth. <<The boy is good! For a straight boy, he sure gives great head.>>

I relaxed, letting Owen work on his technique. I lightly put my hands on his head, guiding him to go faster, then slower. With only the subtlest of encouragement, he was sucking me like he'd been doing it for years.

There was more, though, that I wanted to do that evening. "That's good, Owen, but I want you to stand up now and take off all your clothes." My new toy got to his feet and excitedly unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it onto the floor. Shoes, socks (see, I told you), and the rest soon followed.

"Nice, Owen, very nice." His pencil dick poked out of his orange bush. Making me happy obviously excited him in every way, as I'd expected. Though even at full mast, I was almost twice as big as he was. Not that it mattered. It wasn't as if he was going to fuck me. Quite the opposite, actually.

He was at least four inches taller than me. With plenty of leisure now available, as well as being so close, I saw he was even better built than I'd thought. Wrapped in a milky skinned, freckled package, he looked good enough to eat.

Reaching back to open one of the top drawers of my desk, I pulled out two cans of frosting, one vanilla, one chocolate. I opened them, then handed the cans to Owen. "Have fun, take your time, and be creative." Holding them both in one hand (so much for 'Big hands, big . . . ), he used a finger to dip out the vanilla and twirl it around his right nipple, then got some chocolate and put it on his left one. He continued until he'd covered nearly half his body. I added some to a few places he missed, then decorated him strategically with whipped cream.

What happened next? Well, I could give you a blow-by-blow (so to speak), but I'll leave it to your imaginations. This isn't about Owen, after all. Let's just say it was the tastiest game of connect-the-dots I've ever played, before or since.

I had Owen come home with me for the weekend, and confirmed that the spell worked as well as I'd hoped. Anything I wanted him to do, he did without a shred of reluctance. When I knew the spell was about to wear off, I put Owen under again. A carefully applied healing spell (one of the few spells that people have no magic resistance to, since they'd be pretty worthless otherwise) to his ass, a set of false memories, and I sent him home none the wiser.

* * * * * *

I have to admit, for a while I was like a kid in a candy store. There were a number of guys I'd had my eye on for some time (both glamorous stars and appealing nobodies), but hadn't done much with because I knew how little time I'd have to do all the things I really wanted to do with them. I'd hypnotized and disrobed a number of them, felt them up, made them stroke me off, had them masturbate (or stroked them off myself) until they shot, filmed it, but not much else. So close, and yet so far.

Now I could have them for as long as I'd wanted. Sucking, fucking, threesomes, foursomes, moresomes. You can't begin to comprehend what it was like. The sex, though, was only a part of it. A great part, but only a part. The biggest turn-on was that they'd do anything I wanted. The unquestioning power I had over them was intoxicating. I could have told them to do it with animals, and they'd be humping horses, getting ploughed by donkeys, or sucking off Dobermans faster than you could say "A dog is a man's best friend."

Not that I'm into bestiality. Personally, I find it more than mildly distasteful. The point is, these men wouldn't think of refusing. I could change the direction of their moral compass with no problem at all.

I always kept a special place in my heart for Owen, though, and used him later in some of my private movies. They're not entirely celebrity cast, since I can't get that many at one time. But his resemblance to Anthony Michael has come in useful. I even was able to do one with Owen and Anthony, playing brothers in a story of the true bond between siblings. It was one of my early ones, but it had a certain charm that I like to think has become a hallmark of my films.

* * * * * *

Now, back to Marky, Beej, and Benji. I'd heard about Marky during the Funky Bunch days, but when I saw the video for 'Good Vibrations', let me tell you, I could 'feel it, feel it'. Unfortunately, that was some time before the Casting Couch was made, so my opportunities with him were limited, especially since he was so busy between doing concerts and those Calvin Klein ads. Still, I made the most of those opportunities, getting a collection of photos of him that would have made Mapplethorpe jealous.

Then his recording career, such as it was, fizzled, and he lost the modeling job. His homophobia didn't help matters, either. But, since he was now no longer the flavor of the month, he was at loose ends. By now, I had the Casting Couch, and he was one of the first of the famous to 'feel it, feel it.' I finally could conduct a lengthy, in-depth inspection of his artistic endowments. I wound up using him a lot in my early movies, partly because he had so much free time. He quickly became a big audience favorite. That's not even including the nude version of his workout video I had him do, which made me a small fortune. I also liked using him because his body is so fantastic, and because . . . well, let's just say that, for that scene at the end of 'Boogie Nights', they didn't have to use THAT much in the way of prosthetics, if you know what I mean (and I think you do).

Then he started his mainstream movie career . . .

OK, I admit I helped there. I felt kinda sorry for the guy. After all, he'd done a great deal for me. Plus, the more of a star he was, the more I could get for movies I cast him in. Mercenary, moi? Well, of course. If you've got it, use it, that's my motto. And that's what Mundane's are for, after all.

. . . and now he's 'Mister Mark Wahlberg'. I make sure he takes long breaks between movies to unwind. Not difficult, really, considering he's represented by me. Oh, did I neglect to mention that I run an actors' agency? Yes, not only does he make money for me in my private movies, but I get 10% from his legit features, too, which is quite a nice chunk of change these days. It SO pays to diversify.

It's also much easier to work around a movie schedule than when he was touring all over the place. I can usually block out his calender to get him about three or four times a year. I sometimes wonder if his extracurricular career lingers in his subconscious, making him a better actor overall. Can't say for sure.

Now Benji I've had my eye on since, of all things, 'Daddy', that Danielle Steel TV movie with Patrick Duffy ('The Man From Atlantis'. Sigh. Another story I may share someday.) He seemed like a talent that beared watching. I met him the following year when I visited the set of 'School Ties', scoping out the cast (I'd just gotten the Couch up and running, and was looking for prospects for my first movies). It's also where I first met Beej, but I'll talk about that soon enough. Benji was playing the aptly named 'Chesty' Smith. Older, more muscular, but regrettably, not near the level of fame to have a lead in one of my movies, and I can only indulge myself so much.

After that, he had a series of largely forgettable roles, eventually appearing, oddly enough with Beej again, in 'Glory Daze'. The following year, '97, was the magic one for him. I got a sneak of some of the dailies for 'Chasing Amy.' After seeing 'Clerks' a few years before, I became a substantial supporter of Kevin Smith. And not for the reasons you think. Well, mostly not. It's not ALL about sex and mind control. In this business, it's making contacts, and recognizing potential before anyone else does. Just think of where you'd be today if you'd helped out, say, George Lucas or Steven Spielberg while they were still struggling.

Well, I could feel Benji's charisma coming off the screen in waves, even though it was only dailies. Let's face it, even a bad actor would come off decent with Kevin's dialogue. Great writing can do that. But Benji took Kevin's words and just sailed away with them. I could see how delightfully hunky he'd gotten, and what a good actor he had become, so I got him into the Couch as soon as I could. I always spotlight a new 'discovery' in a short solo feature, to introduce him to my customers and showcase his talents. Benji was a natural, and the feature sold fairly well.

Then 'Good Will Hunting' came out.

* * * * * *

I have to admit, even I can miss the boat. Benji even showed me dailies from it, and it just didn't click to me. I look back now and wonder how I could have been so stupid. Hindsight, and all that.

After 'Good Will Hunting', everything changed for Benji. He was definitely big time, and I jacked up the price on the copies of the short that I still had. I sold out in less than a month. Supply and demand is a wonderful thing.

Of course, there was nothing for it but to do my own version, where Ben and Matt's characters probed every aspect of their friendship. Not so difficult for Matt, as he had 'tendencies' he'd been repressing, which didn't take much effort for me to release. How Benji could miss the way Matt was mooning over him all the time, I'll never understand. To be honest, Matt was a major whore, wanting to get screwed six ways from Sunday, every chance he could. Benji was happy to oblige, once I told him it was OK. The best part? I had Ben and Matt do the adaptation of the screenplay for the movie themselves! It was so much fun when it became my first film to be written by Oscar winning screenwriters. And what it did for sales! Now I have them polishing as many scripts, as well as dicks, that I can.

I'll let you in on a couple of things about Mr. Affleck. Remember that awards show where he kissed Kevin Smith? That was one of my ideas. In fact, Kevin's another one who I have help on scripts. He doesn't come up to the standards to appear in my movies (though I think he's kind of foxy), but he is one hell of a writer.

The other thing? The breakup with Gwyneth. I've got nothing against her. In fact, I have total amazement at her effortless style. Still, she was making Benji way too unavailable for me. Why do you think Matt plays the field so much? Those two are far too useful, and profitable, to me. I can't let some woman monopolize their time.

Then there's Beej. Why do I call Brendan Beej? Well, his full name is Brendan James Fraser. Brendan James, B.J., Beej. Kind of ironic that those are his initials, eh?

If the eyes are the windows of the soul, then the most beautiful stained glass in the world has nothing on his. When I first met him on the set of 'School Ties', I had to force myself not to stare. He may not have been as buff as he was in later years, but he had a compelling, magnetic quality that couldn't help but draw you. The relative lack of buffness (he wasn't in BAD shape, just OK shape) was points off, though. The fact that he looked better in clothes than out of them (I saw some of the shower scenes while they were being filmed) made him unusable for me.

I can still remember first seeing him in 'Encino Man', which got released shortly before 'School Ties'. As crappy a movie as it was (The All save us all from Pauly Shore! And, no, I've never used 'the Wea-sel' in ANY of my movies. A guy's gotta have principles, you know?), he saved it from total dreck. Gods, was he funny. And the whole cavemen thing began to make me reconsider my initial evaluation of his physique.

I watched him getting better over the years. Then he went mega in '97 after 'George of the Jungle' came out (Strange how his and Benji's careers have so many parallels). I realized I HAD to work with him, especially since I had customers clamoring to see more of him. And what my customers want, they're used to getting. 'Twilight of the Golds' and 'Gods and Monsters' got released right after and, well, if you saw them, you understand. Unfortunately, he was so busy I couldn't even get him into the Couch, much less have the time to do one of my movies. Also, he got married shortly after that, making it that much more difficult. Finally, through various channels, I managed to get him to see me. This movie was only the second one I'd gotten him to be in. I'd only been able to get him in the standard solo piece, which I'd squeezed in during the break between 'The Mummy' and 'Dudley-Do-Right', so this was the first time I'd gotten him to work with other actors. At the rate his career's going, I'll be lucky to get him in one a year. Considering what the first one brought in, I had big hopes for this one, so I planned to make it count.

* * * * * *

Right. So, they're doing this scene, and they're working together like a well-lubricated machine (ribbed and lemon-scented, for everyone's pleasure). Marky's facing toward Beej, whose long, lanky body is undulating like a snake. Beej isn't missing the opportunity to sample Marky's perfectly etched abs. That is, when he's not got his hands on Marky's waist so he can slam the guy down harder. Not that any help is really needed in that department. Marky's impaling himself so deep I almost expect to see the head of Beej's dick poke out of his mouth.

And none of that plopping-out-of-the-ass-all-the-time shit, either. Don't you hate when that happens? Thrust, thrust, thrust, out comes the dick, shove it back in, thrust some more, out it comes again. It's so distracting, totally messes up the flow of the scene, and is such a turn-off. That just shows bad planning and lack of rehearsal in my book. I, on the other hand, have all my movies storyboarded completely, especially the sex scenes, which are very carefully choreographed. And I make sure the guys rehearse until they get it right. I'll tell you, some of the outtakes, when they get shown at the wrap party . . . did I mention that I give the best wrap parties in the business?

Now, where were we? Oh, yes, Marky getting pounded by Beej. Meanwhile, Benji is straddling Beej's head, his right hand gently threading through Marky's hair, his left behind his head moving slowly through his own closely cropped hair (I've been working on getting him to grow it out some. As someone put it so well, "It gives you something to . . . hang on to."). His bicep flexes occasionally, and sweat is visibly trickling from his armpit down the side of his taut, thinly furred, heaving chest, and his eyes are half-closed as hums of contentment escape from his parted lips.

The guys had gotten a great rhythm going when Steve, one of my production assistants, spoke to me through my headset. "Boss, we're having problems with the feed from Camera Four. Looks like a short in the wiring. Could you stop filming so we can fix it? It shouldn't take too long."

"Dammit, Steve," I whispered, "this is some great footage we're getting."

"Yeah, boss, but with the problems with Four . . . geez, we've lost it completely now."

"Alright, alright, we'll stop." That particular camera was doing closeups on Beej's face, and I didn't want to lose the reaction shots. The cute way his eyes lost focus as he really got into the fucking was something I didn't want the audience to miss.

"Cut, cut, cut!"

Marky's sudden lack of motion finally penetrated Beej's pre-orgasmic haze. How could I tell he was pre-orgasmic? Once you've seen as many orgasms as I have, you learn to recognize the warning signs.

"Why're we stopping, Kev? That was starting to feel really good." Yes, he can get a bit whiny sometimes, but I always forgive him. How could you possibly look into those eyes and stay angry?

If you're wondering why he didn't call me 'Master' or something similar, it's because when I'm doing a movie, I like to encourage an air of informality on the set. I am the director (and their Master). I know it, and they know it. But these guys are talented, and I'm willing to relax the discipline to let their acting instincts work. Since it results in a better movie, I'm all for it.

Besides, after awhile the "Yes, Master" this and "No, Master" that stuff gets tedious. Nobody was more surprised than me when I started feeling that way. Not only do actions speak louder than words, they mean more, too. It's what they do, far more than what they say, that counts the most.

"Sorry, Beej. We lost the feed on one of the cameras, so we need to find out what's wrong and fix it. Take five while we work on it."

"Sure thing, Kev." Brendan said, as he walked over to the bathroom. "Thanks, Kev." Ben and Mark added. Ben uncuffed Mark, then they went off into a corner where Ben started massaging Mark's shoulders, working the circulation back into them. I realized it was probably good that we had this break, since we were on the 12th take, and had been at it for nearly an hour. Mark's shoulders were probably killing him! The crew people that weren't busy were watching them, enjoying the tantalizing sideshow.

* * * * * *

For the curious, Marky was playing an investigative reporter looking into police corruption. Benji and Beej are two of his contacts in the department, and they're meeting in a cheap motel to pass him information. Before that happens, however, Marky's character has to pay for it, and not just in cash. And, since he likes a bit of rough (his character, not him), they cuff him first.

It doesn't take place only on a cheap motel set, though. I spend a great deal on my movies, in money as well as time. They cost as much as mainstream movies to make, or would if I had to pay my all-star casts. When it's all put together, though, the costumes, . . .

Yes, there ARE clothes worn. The very best, naturally. Many people underestimate the sensual impact of an elegantly dressed man.

And what a turn-on it is to see that elegance removed, piece by piece. Unwrapping is highly underrated too, hmm?

. . . sets, special effects (for the SF movies, of which I've done a few) all add up. I haven't done any that have cost in the eight figure range, but I've come close.

You're thinking, "Why spend that much on a porn movie? Doesn't he lose a lot of money?"

No. All my movies make a profit, many a quite healthy one. I have a limited clientele, but since they're the most powerful and wealthy people in the world (And no, I'm NOT naming names. Not even hints. Customer confidentiality maintains customer loyalty.) (Not to mention my continued excellent health. Remember the part earlier about me not being a suicidal idiot?), money's not a problem.

You see, I'm not making tawdry porn movies. Obvious, in part, because of how much they cost. But what my clients are paying for is the privilege to see brilliant, popular, sexy men in graphic gay roles and situations. With the benefit of my magic, I've created a series of movies that seem as though they come from some parallel universe, where there's no stigma about homosexuality, and the kind of movies gay men have always wished for (with the men we've always wished were doing them) are being made.

Take 'Convictions', for example. Marky, Benji, and Beej weren't even the biggest stars in it. Tell you what, I'll give you the entire celebrity part of the cast list, so you'll see what I mean.

Ben Affleck

Jason Behr

Dean Cain

Bruce Campbell

George Clooney

Keith Hamilton Cobb

David James Elliott

Brendan Fraser

Mel Gibson

Seth Green

Chris Klein

Matthew McConaughey

Dylan McDermott

Chris O'Donnell

Ryan Philippe

French Stewart

Mark Wahlberg

Billy Zane

Jason, Seth, and Ryan have been friends since high school, each of their lives following different paths. Jason plays a rookie cop partnered with Keith. Billy and Dean are the ringleaders of the corrupt cops.

There's a couple of scenes he does that are pure gems. The first one is where Keith's character finds his partner lying on the ground in an alley, bruised and bleeding, his uniform torn (showing off as much of his scrumptious chest as possible, of course). Jason's character had accidently stumbled onto the crooked cops while they were engaged in some of their illegal activities. They beat him up and threaten to kill him if he talks. Keith's character gently picks up the battered rookie and puts him in his car, then takes him back to his apartment. The second scene has Jason's character being tenderly consoled by his older partner for the rest of the night. All those years of doing soaps did wonders for Keith because, even though he's a huge guy and you wouldn't think it when you saw him, he's got caring and sensitive down to an art.

Seth's character has gone on to work at a major metropolitan newspaper as a photographer. Marky has an on-again, off-again relationship with his writing partner, played by Chris O'Donnell. There's a wisecracking Pulitzer Prize winning journalist (Bruce), an off-the-wall reporter stuck (as far as he's concerned) doing human interest stories (French), all presided over by their taskmaster of an editor (Mel). The newspaper, and the people who work for it, provide most of the comic relief in 'Convictions'. Oh, and if you don't think funny can be incredibly erotic, too, then the after-hours session in the editor's office between Mel, Bruce and French would undoubtedly not interest you.

What about Ryan? Well, his character is one of the newest employees at a struggling law firm. Jason's character goes to them for legal advice after his beating. Chris Klein is working to be a junior partner. The senior partners are George (The head of the firm, or is that the firm head?), David James, Matthew, and Dylan. Yeah, I know, typecasting, but I couldn't resist. Hey, at least I didn't cast Dean as a reporter! Credit me with SOME originality. I'll tell you, though, this movie gave a whole new meaning to the idea of thoroughly checking someone's legal briefs! Even if a couple of them wear boxers.

Before we leave the subject of Mr. Klein, I predict that boy will be going places. No, no magic involved in that forecast, just a feeling I have, honed by working with so much talent over the years. This was the first time I'd used him, and he was so easy to work with, and adorable, too. Doesn't he look like he could be Keanu's beefy younger brother? I've GOT to get the two of them in a movie together soon!

* * * * * *

And while I'm still thinking about Dean, let me tell you about another type of movie that I do. Sometimes, though unavailable for a whole movie, the opportunity to make a short film presents itself. Most celebrities have serious home security systems, what with stalkers and paparazzi and all the less pleasant trappings of fame. It doesn't take much for me to get many of those who've sat in the Couch to add some extra concealed cameras throughout their homes. When circumstances permit, I'll have two or three (or however many are available) get together at the home of one of them, but not before planting a few interesting post-hypnotic suggestions. I tap into the security system and record it all, then do a little creative editing. Result? A slice of sexual cinema verite, a gay 'Real World.' (The things I could tell you about THAT show. But I digress.)

I don't charge as much for them as my full-length movies, but they're a nice sideline.

I mentioned Dean because one of my favorites was one that happened at Dean's house when Antonio Sabato Jr. came over to visit. I'd heard Antonio was going to be a guest on 'Lois and Clark', and knew he'd want to get together with Dean, since they were both bi at the time (thanks to guess who). I thought it was something my clients might be interested in, but to spice it up, I had Justin Whalin (who played Jimmy Olsen on the show, and whose sexual orientation I didn't need to tinker with at all) pop over to visit Dean. That triggered the scenario. I have to confess, even I wasn't fully aware of the depths of Justin's sluttiness. Or my clients' interest in seeing it. How much? Can you say 'beyond the dreams of avarice?'

Do you get the full picture now? With the talent I have available, using the guys to make standard porn would be a crime, and a waste. So, at least for my full-length movies, I don't spare expenses, and the results over the years have been worth every penny.

The ironic thing is, even if I couldn't get any money out of these movies, I'd do them anyway. Having a permanent, full color, wide-screen record of so many of my fantasies being fulfilled, by the most well-known and desirable men . . . Getting paid is just a bonus. But I do get paid, and very well, thank you very much.

Does life get any better than this? I almost hope not, because I don't know if I could stand it.

I suppose I'd find some way to manage, somehow.

* * * * * *

I don't always direct every movie that Hypnos Pictures (The name of my 'underground' movie production company. Cute, huh?) does. I do as many as I can, but I have several guys who also direct, since I have so many projects I'm working on. I hardly ever use any well-known directors, as the time commitment is too great. When I can, I have gotten one or two to A.D. (Assistant Direct) for me. Kevin Smith is one of the top ones, even worth making him forget everything that's happened before he leaves the set every day. Sometimes I've had to rein in his more out-there impulses, though. Check out the scene in the bar with the Golgothan from 'Dogma' to get an idea of what I mean.

I produce all the movies from Hypnos (I sort of have to), but when I'm the one directing, I do it as 'A Whim Commander Production.' Truth in advertising, you might say.

A few of my 'in-house' directors have gone on to greater careers, and it's nice to know I helped give them a start. In a way, I'm like the unsung Roger Corman of gay cinema. Well, ok, Corman with a budget. Yes, I guess that is kind of an oxymoron, isn't it?

By the way, were you puzzling earlier on how I've kept my movies so secret, what with all the directors, cameramen, lighting men, sound techs, costumers and other people involved? If you're thinking there's magic involved, you'd be right.

Let's say I need a cameraman. I'll put out word through regular channels that I've got an opening for a cameraman for one of my publicly distributed independent films, and for anyone interested to send in a resume. Then I'll contact the best of the male applicants for one-on-one interviews. When I'm really hiring for my public films, women have just as good a chance as men to find employment with me. But for my private movies, my unwritten policy is to hire only gay men. Simpler for a number of reasons, which I'm sure you can figure out.

How do I know who's gay? Well, I've got this small metallic wire frame sculpture that's looks rather avant-garde hanging over the door to my office. In reality, it's a cleverly disguised Detection Glyph. When someone walks beneath it, it glows brightly (to the Gifted eye) if that person is gay. If they're bi, it glows, but not as strongly. Having gaydar that not only works, but is 100% accurate, is so handy, don't you agree?

At this point, I try and get a sense of the applicants. I'll casually ask if they're comfortable working around actors doing nude scenes. Since those kind of scenes appear often in my public movies, it's not something likely to raise suspicions, and it weeds out the prudish (yes, there are a few in Hollywood). Through further discreet questioning, I can usually gauge the men who'd be most capable, and comfortable, working in my private movies.

When I'm done with the interviews, I'll call back the most qualified gay male applicant for a more in-depth interview. No, not one of THOSE. The behind the scenes folks are hired for talent in their field. They don't even need to be great-looking; that's only necessary for the guys in front of the camera. I'll cast a Truthseek spell on myself beforehand, which helps me know whether the guy's lying to me or not. Then I'll start laying my cards on the table.

I'll tell him I've learned through discreet channels that he's gay, and that's one of the reasons I want him. Then I'll continue with the information that I do adult movies for discreet distribution, and that's what I really want to hire him for. We'll talk some more, if he's still interested, about hours, salary, and such. If he's not interested, or if he pretends to be interested, but isn't really, I'll cast a False Memory spell on him, so he only remembers that there was nothing unusual about the interview. If he agrees, I bring out a contract for him to sign. If he doesn't want to sign it then, he gets the False Memory spell.

The contract appears normal, with a section that's become pretty standard now about not revealing any details of the project he's working on. However, this particular contract was drawn up by a lawyer who specializes in the kind that are more than legally binding. Yes, one of the Gifted. And, no, he doesn't work for Wolfram and Hart. That firm, thank The All, is totally fictional. But after signing the contract, the signer is unable to reveal anything, in any way, about the film, including borrowing or copying or stealing it. I don't take advantage of that, because the contract is binding to both parties. Not only do I pay them well for their silence, but the fringe benefits can't be beat. The guys in front of the camera aren't the only ones with hardons. They're all professionals, though, and do their jobs like they're supposed to. What they do on their own time . . .

Oh, there is a minor loophole I allow in the contract. The staff and crew can talk to each other about the movie they're working on, as long as they know no one who isn't involved will find out. It's resulted in a number of flings and romances, some that have become long-term.

* * * * * *

At one couple's seventh anniversary party, I had Ricky Martin provide the entertainment. He popped out of a cake, dressed in a male belly dancer's outfit. The ensemble was exquisite, if I do say so myself. Pale yellow satin vest, cut off just above his stomach, sleeveless, edged in sequins, with no shirt. Loose-fitting black silk harem pants, with lots of vertical slits, so it was more like he was wearing strips of silk running from his waist to his ankles than wearing pants. He was barefoot, and while he danced, you could see occasional flashes of the pair of black Speedos he was wearing. It all set off his skin tone so well. He was a sultry bronze fantasy, a tawny vision, a glittering gold and mocha and ebony dream.

And yes, there was also frosting involved. I have a sweet tooth, what can I say?

After finishing his show (Over two hours of singing and dancing, shimmering from the sweat nearly gushing from every pore, and barely winded!), I let him go home with the happy couple for the night.

You may think you've seen him shake his bon-bon, but you have NO idea how he can move when he really lets go. That night, I freed him from the doubt and self-consciousness we all carry with us to a greater or lesser degree, that inner voice that says "No, I can't do that. It would be too embarrassing, too demeaning, too much." For one night only, Ricky Martin had no shame. None. He was . . . phenomenal. I'm surprised he didn't dislocate a hip (his, or someone else's). Sometimes I suspected the man was made out of elastic. I lost count of how many times that theory got investigated that night.

The verdict? The court's still out. The jury's waiting to have more evidence presented. I'm afraid it's one of those trials that could go on for years.

Do you understand why my staff and crew are the most dedicated in the business, and most have been with me for years, considering the kinds of incentive bonuses I offer? How hard would YOU work to have a night alone with your favorite celebrity, who was willing to fulfill your every desire? The contract itself is only binding for the specific movie they're working on, but I have hardly any trouble getting most of them to sign up to work on more, which I'm sure doesn't surprise you, does it?

Many of them also choose to work on my publicly known movies, since I pay separately for those, and at significantly above the going rate for indie movies as well. If you want talent, you have to pay for it, I believe. It's not like I mind control EVERYONE that works for me. There's not enough magic on Earth for that. Mind you, the salaries I pay, the kinds of movies I do (that the general public know about, anyway), the way I direct, and other things about the way I run my businesses has made many see me as something of an eccentric. I cultivate that, as a reputation for eccentricity, I've found, can cover a multitude of sins.

* * * * * *

Enough about those for now. My indie movies, not my sins. Let's get back to the kinds of movies I make that I'm sure you're more interested in hearing about. Since we're such good friends now, I'm going to share some more with you. Here's my Top Five List of Pet Porn Peeves, and how I counteract them. Pay attention, you may be tested afterwards.

Number 1: The closeup of the organs.

Ok, occasionally it's hot, but it seems like more than 75% of the time in a sex scene (gay OR straight) that's ALL you see.

Number 2: The sound of music.

As in, sometimes it's all you can hear. A sex scene without even enthusiastic groans seems . . . hollow, somehow.

Number 3: The dialogue.

On the other hand, the overuse of music can often be a blessing. How many times can you hear "Fuck me, fuck me," "Yeah, fuck that ass," blah, blah, blah, before it starts to get on your nerves? I suppose I'm spoiled, since I've got the likes of Matt, Benji, and Kevin to help write the dialogue for me, but still. I know, most people don't watch porn for the scintillating repartee, but a little bit of time spent on the script could add so much more sizzle.

Number 4: The limp dick syndrome.

Am I the only one who doesn't get turned on as much by a sex scene when one or more participants isn't hard? Even if they're acting excited, a limp dick can be contagious.

Number 5: The ever popular visible money shot.

"Does he mean the cumshot?" I hear you say, "How can he be against THAT?" Quick show of hands; how many of you out there pull out before you cum? How many really LIKE pulling out before shooting? Thought so. I understand the whole AIDS issue, but even before, it was SOP, and now, with condoms, it's still done that way. And even when you do see it, most of the time it's more a dribble than a shot.

* * * * * *

That's why MY stuff is so different.

First off, for what I'm charging, my customers want to see everything. Don't get me wrong, I do the occasional closeup, but more of faces than dicks. My clients want to know that I'm using the real thing.

Second, though I use music, it always underscores a scene, never overwhelms it, even when I'm using a full orchestra. Hey, it's not like they know what the music they're playing is REALLY for. Yes, I often have full orchestral scores. None of that tinny, seedy stuff, thank you very much.

Third, the dialogue. Well, I've already mentioned how lucky I am in that department.

Fourth, since my actors are completely subject to my will, there's never a limp dick in one of my movies.

And the visible money shot? Don't use it that often.

Crazy? Want me to prove it? Let me give you a 'for instance'.

Back in '94 I worked with Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt. No, not a remake of 'Interview with the Vampire', tempting though that was, though I did do it between breaks in filming 'Interview', since they were both so conveniently in the same place. That was the last of my movies that I had Tommy in, by the way. He just got too busy, between his career and marriage. But now that he's no longer attached, I'm looking forward to working with Mr. Mapother again. That's Tom's real last name. Cruise is his middle name, don't you know.

Yes, I plead guilty to the breakup. Nicole was getting in the way, so, voila, 'irreconcilable differences.'

You're right; I am the little homewrecker, aren't I?

I'm making sure he doesn't get into another 'Eyes Wide Shut' situation, either. He was out of circulation way too long.

No, Kubrick wasn't one of mine. It was natural causes. Not that I wasn't tempted, with him keeping Tom unavailable so long. But I had too much respect for him as a film maker. His last few movies, however, made me wonder if he wasn't slipping. This was the same man who made '2001' and 'Strangelove?'

So, Tom and Brad. Two of the finest actors in the business . . .

Hey, I know what you're thinking, but behind all that pretty, Brad really is a great actor. Don't believe me? Check out 'Twelve Monkeys' or 'Fight Club.'.

. . . are going at it. Picture it. Brad's on top, more or less in a push-up position, his long blonde hair tied in a ponytail (I didn't want to obscure that gorgeous face. That was one of the things I knew viewers were going to pay to watch). You can see his biceps bulging, the veins standing out, especially in his arms and neck. The exertion from supporting himself and fucking Tom are making rivulets of sweat run down Brad's droolworthy torso, dripping down onto Mr. Mapother, who is hardly idle himself. His hands are all over Brad. Chest, back, arms, ass; there's not a square inch within Tom's reach that hasn't been caressed, grabbed, or pinched. The bedsheets are nearly soaked from the marathon session. The two of them are grunting like wild pigs, moaning and whimpering in ecstasy. They're breathing with short, sharp gasps. Suddenly, Brad can't hold out any longer. "Oh god, I can't, I'm gonna . . . " He throws his head back, his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth wide open, the muscles and veins in his neck standing out even more. A groan wells up from deep inside him as his hips shift into overdrive, slamming into Tom's already well-fucked ass as he shoots again and again.

Finally, when he's done, he pulls out, flushed and red all over, still hard. He lowers himself until he's laying on Tom. The camera alternates between closeups of them kissing, and longer shots gliding over their closely pressed naked and sweaty bodies. They roll over until Mr. Top Gun is on top.

"So, lover," he says with a lift of an eyebrow and that quintessential smile that's helped to make him the star he is, "ready for seconds?"

"Do you even need to ask?" With that, the hard, throbbing Cruise missile plunges in, where it will soon explode.

* * * * * *

Now tell me, honestly, if you saw that, would you feel gypped that you didn't get to see two cumshots?

Hmm, somehow, I didn't think so.

Oh, and when I DO use the money shot, it's like Mt. St. Helens with every guy, every time. If it goes less than two feet, it's not worth the audience's time.

I did mention before that I have TOTAL control over them, didn't I? I did? Well, some things just bear repeating.

I have TOTAL control over the most handsome, sought after (and just plain lusted over) male celebrities in the world. Every inch of their bodies is mine to play with. I can shape their thoughts in any way I want. I can make them cum again and again until each orgasm is agony. If I say so, they'll fill their asses with dildos so big they'd make Jeff Stryker jealous. When I want, no task is too difficult for them, no debasement too great to refuse, no desire too exotic to fulfill. I have TOTAL control over them.

Uh-uh, don't start lying to me, or to yourself, either. We're such good friends now. We've become so close, so it's useless to deny it. I'd know. It's true, you know. Go ahead, admit it. If you had the Power, you'd do the same thing, wouldn't you? Perhaps even more, even worse things than I could think of.

It's why the Gift is so rare, I think, and so difficult to master. The discipline it requires can break the strongest practitioner. A Mundane? It would destroy you.

So I guess you'll have to live vicariously through me, then. Does it hurt, just a little? Knowing someone has this power, and it isn't you? Longing for these luscious, gorgeous men, and having them forever beyond your reach, but not mine? Knowing that I'm making ALL my dreams and desires come true, and no matter how hard you try, some of your dreams will be forever unattainable?

Were you pondering why I've shared all this with you? Doubtful, as your mind was distracted because of all the blood flowing out of your brain to other parts of your body. I can tell you the real reason now, as it's far too late for you to do anything about it now.

* * * * * *

This story was a test. Woven through the words was a spell, a spell I've worked on for quite some time. I recently completed my research to develop it. Now it's time to see if it does as well as I hope. My lawyer helped a great deal with certain parts. My Mandarin magical researches were also important.

"But what IS the spell," you're thinking. You want to know, don't you? You can't stop yourself from reading, can you? Some of you probably have to go to the bathroom VERY badly by now, but you're still there, sitting, eyes glued to the screen, every word seeming to penetrate further and further into your brain.

I bet you didn't know that a six-pointed star can be a very potent magical symbol, six of them together even more so. In fact, I'm counting on it.

* * * * * *

It's scary, isn't it? Having no control, being subject to the someone else's will. Though for some of you out there, this may be the most erotic experience in your life. You knew it first because you knew that feeling, that loss of will; you've felt it before, but never this intensely. Even those of you who want to break away, who're struggling to free yourself, are at the same time monstrously turned on.

I wanted a mind control spell that worked through simply being read. It wasn't possible before, but the advent of the Internet has been a boon in more ways than one. A spell like this, written on paper, would work once, then have to be recast on the paper. But this spell, my puppets, is different. It draws its power from the electricity your computer is using. It doesn't take a lot of energy, really, nowhere near enough to disrupt the function of your computer or your Internet connection. As long as your computer is running, however, the spell will work, and keep working. Drawing you deeper into my power. And it works like the Casting Couch spell; as though you're casting it yourself, so that you aren't developing any immunity to it. That's more of a side effect, truth be told. It only needs to work once.

* * * * * *

You're trying to turn off the monitor, aren't you? Or press the power button. Or hit <CTRL><ALT><DEL>. Maybe you've already tried, and know that your hands won't do any of those things. They'll only hit the page down button, or work the mouse to click on the vertical scroll bar, to read the next section. Have you tried to kick out the power cord yet? You can't, can you? How about trying to yell for help? Gee, that doesn't seem to work either, does it? And since you locked the door to the room you're in after you read the first few paragraphs, making sure you were alone first . . .

Did I tell you I thought of everything? I forgot? Then I'll tell you now.

* * * * * *

I have thought. Of everything.

* * * * * *

You'll send me an e-mail after you've finished reading. Send it to [email protected]. That stands for Master, not Mister, for the more feebleminded readers. Tell me what you thought of the story, and be honest. Oh, and don't forget to attach a picture of yourself. The more revealing, the better. I'm casting my next couple of celebrity movies. These are the biggest ones I've done yet, and I need plenty of extras. There's even some speaking parts available.

If you're lucky, you could get to meet and greet some of your favorite performers. If you're VERY lucky, and you've got the looks and talent, you might get to do more than just meet and greet. Consider it the grand prize in a very unique lottery you unintentionally entered.

For those who don't measure up, I have other plans for you. I'll probably erase the memories of most of you, so you won't remember me or this story. I'll even make sure that you'll never run across this story again. You'll only be left with a vague feeling that you're missing something, something alarming and awesome, but you don't know what it is. For the rest of you, well . . . I have a bit of a cruel streak where Mundanes are concerned. I haven't told you about the . . . entertainment some of my stellar artists have provided me over the years. Not by a long stretch.

Which is, incidentally, one of the more intriguing . . .

No, I don't think you're ready for that. You can only hope.

I've also found that a good healing spell can work wonders, and it's one of the things besides a reputation for eccentricity that can cover a multitude of sins.

* * * * * *

I'll have to write more stuff like this. It was way more fun than I thought. And I'll need to work on refining this spell, as well. What else shall I share with all the potential guinea pigs out there?

Hmm, there's so many noted personalities to chat about, it's difficult to choose.

* * * * * *

Jean-Claude, the Muscles from Brussels, and which one's my favorite (no, that one's in second place) (though not by much).

* * * * * *

Joey and Matthew Lawrence, showing the real meaning of 'Brotherly Love.'

* * * * * *

Casper Van Dien, displaying (with justifiable pride) everything Tarzan keeps under his loincloth.

* * * * * *

Ashton Kutcher and Seann William Scott in 'Dude, Where's My Dildo?' OK, you got me. Once in a while I DO make a tawdry porn movie, just for the fun of it.

* * * * * *

My own version of 'Love Potion #9,' that I did as a tribute to the sexy new guys of SF and fantasy. It starred Dale Midkiff and Adrian Paul, of course, with very special appearances by Kevin Sorbo (Legendary is right!), Dean Cain (no padding in THOSE tights), Jerry and Charlie O'Connell (my favorite 'Sliders'), Ben Browder (he looks SO good in leather), Sebastian Spence (the man's chest enters a room before the rest of him), Christian Kane (He sings, too! A couple of his songs made it onto the soundtrack.), Marc Blucas (snugly, cuddly, and huggable), James Marsters (simply shaggalicious), Vincent Ventresca (I can't say this of many men, but Vinnie's great cleavage. He could singlehandedly bring V-neck T-shirts back into style.), and Benjamin Bratt, among others. Don't recall 'Demolition Man?' Well, I enjoyed it, and I was willing to let it qualify to get the Brattman in with the rest. Couldn't get Sly, though. But since I had him and Dolph do 'Rocky 69' a few years ago, it wasn't a complete loss.

* * * * * *

I could go on and on. And on. And then on some more. New York may be The Naked City, and have a million stories. But my small slice of Tinseltown has closer to ten million.

And counting.

* * * * * *

Ah yes. Kevin and Jeff. I can't overlook all those pretty little boybands, can I? When I say 'I Want It That Way', they definitely DON'T act like there's 'No Strings Attached'. Talk about 'Never Giving Up!' Backstreet and *Nsync. *Nsync and 98 Degrees. Backstreet and Westlife. 5ive and BBMak. The added advantage with all of them is that they help provide the soundtrack, too! You just know I HAD to get Westlife once I heard 'My Private Movie'. Perfect for a title, and, once I changed the words a tad, the ideal theme song. Hell, it even provided most of the plot! With lyrics like, "Picture me all over you/Picture you all over me/Baby you're the star in my private movie," how can you possibly go wrong? THAT was my boyband tribute movie. Did it as a series of vignettes, but that way I could get almost all of them in it for once. Talk about boyband overload!

If I'd been able to release the soundtrack for that one for general distribution, it would have gotten more Grammys than Carlos Santana. A few originals, and covers of songs by groups like The Mamas And The Papas and The Carpenters. It would have also caused an epidemic of heart attacks among teen and preteen girls ('Dedicated to the One I Love' alone, done by all the guys as a gospel choir, is just devastatingly lethal), so maybe it was all for the best.

And I haven't even gotten to LFO, 2ge+her, C-Note, O-Town, or Plus One (A Christian boyband. Who'd've thunk?) yet. At the rate new ones are coming out, I'll never catch up. But, boys, I'm sure going to have fun trying!

* * * * * *

There's so much more, but that should do, since the spell is now completely in place. I'd tell you to remember the instructions I gave earlier, and make sure you carry them out as soon as possible, if I didn't know already that you have no other option.

I know I'll be seeing a lot more of you in the very near future, so I'll sign off now.

Have a nice life. Do try not to worry about the fact that it's not really yours to live anymore.

Just make sure you don't succeed.