Collection of 18 stories

by Ally Blue

  “I, I’m twenty-two.”

  “No, you’re not. Truth, Elijah. I promise I won’t get you in trouble.”

  Elijah was silent for a moment. Sebastian could see the rapid pulse jumping in his throat. When he finally spoke, Sebastian could barely hear him.

  “I just turned eighteen last week.”

  Sebastian felt a thrill go through him. He slipped an arm around Elijah’s waist, urging him closer. Elijah let out a little squeak when Sebastian’s thigh touched his groin. Sebastian pushed against him and felt him harden as fast as only a teenage boy can.

  Elijah laid both hands on Sebastian’s shoulders. He was shaking. Sebastian cradled Elijah’s head in one hand and gently kissed his lips. Elijah tensed for a second, then relaxed against him. Sebastian let him take the lead, opening his mouth to Elijah’s shyly probing tongue. Elijah let out a little breathy moan. He wound his arms around Sebastian’s neck and kissed him with more confidence than Sebastian would’ve believed he possessed.

  “God, you’re sexy.” Elijah tugged at Sebastian’s lip ring with his teeth. “Can we go somewhere?”

  “My place?” Sebastian kissed Elijah’s neck and slid both hands down over his firm little butt. “It’s only a couple of blocks away.”

  Elijah only hesitated for a second. “Let’s go.”

  They left the bar hand in hand. Out in the cool night air, Sebastian draped his arm across Elijah’s shoulders. Elijah stuck a hand in the back pocket of Sebastian’s jeans and pressed close. Sebastian could feel his heat through the thin fabric of his suit jacket. The knowledge that soon that sweet young body would be his sent a jolt of pleasure thrumming through his bones.

  They walked the short distance to Sebastian’s house in silence. Elijah’s eyes widened when Sebastian led him through the gate in the high stone wall and up the wide path.

  “You live here?” Elijah stared in unabashed awe at the three stories of ivy-covered stone and brick. “Wow. You must be rich.”

  Sebastian laughed. “Yeah, you could say that.” He fished the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the front door. “My parents were rich, and I got it all when they died, including the family mansion.”

  “So you grew up here?” Elijah let Sebastian take his hand and lead him inside.

  “Not exactly.” Sebastian shut the door and switched on a small lamp with a beaded green shade. “I grew up at boarding school. The first time I spent more than two weeks at a time here was when my parents died.”

  Elijah came to him and slid both arms around his waist. “How’d they die?” He rubbed his cheek against Sebastian’s.

  “Car accident,” Sebastian said, only half lying.

  “That sucks,” Elijah said, breathing the words against Sebastian’s neck. “My mom died when I was ten.” He kissed Sebastian’s chin. “She never told anyone who my dad was. I’ve been in foster homes ever since.” He moved up to kiss Sebastian’s mouth. “I’m on my own now.”

  Sebastian laid a hand on Elijah’s soft cheek. “So young to be alone, Elijah. Don’t you need someone to take care of you?”

  Elijah lifted his chin. “I can take care of myself.”

  His tone was defiant, but his big dark eyes radiated vulnerability. Sebastian raked his fingers through Elijah’s silky curls. “Of course you can,” he said. “But wouldn’t you like to have someone to look after you? Someone to be with?” He pulled Elijah closer. “Someone to belong to?”

  Elijah closed his eyes and rested his head in the curve of Sebastian’s neck. “Yes,” he whispered. His voice was raw with need.

  Sebastian stroked Elijah’s back. “I’d like to be that person, Elijah. I’d like to be the one to take care of you.”

  Elijah lifted his head and stared at Sebastian in surprise. “Really? But you don’t even know me.”

  “You don’t know me either, but you came here with me anyway. And you want to belong to me, I can feel it.” Sebastian laid a chaste kiss to Elijah’s lips. “You do, don’t you?”

  Elijah’s breath ran out in a long sigh when Sebastian slipped a hand up the back of his shirt, running light fingers over his spine. “God, yeah. I do.”

  “You need to understand what that means.” Sebastian took Elijah’s face in his hands and stared hard into his eyes. “Do you? Do you understand what it would mean to be mine?”

  Elijah held Sebastian’s gaze without flinching. “I think so. You take care of me. Give me food, a place to live, clothes, whatever I need. And I give you... whatever you need.”

  Sebastian ran his tongue over Elijah’s mouth. “You mean sex, don’t you, Elijah? You’d give it to me however and whenever I want it, wouldn’t you?”

  “I’d be your slave.” Elijah gazed up at Sebastian from under submissively lowered lids.

  Sebastian shook his head.

  “Not my slave. I don’t want or need a slave. You’d be more of a... a pet.” He ran his palms over Elijah’s shoulders, pushing the suit jacket off. It slithered to the floor. “You can’t hold a slave while he sleeps. You can’t cuddle under a blanket and watch TV with a slave on a cold night.” He buried his hands in Elijah’s hair and kissed his forehead. “You can’t love a slave. And I’d love you, Elijah. I’d love you, and take care of you, and never let anything bad happen to you again.”

  A single tear sparkled its way down Elijah’s face. Sebastian kissed it away. “So what do you say, Elijah? I’ll keep you, and look after you, and in return you give me something warm to come home to. Will you do it?”

  Elijah’s smile was a beautiful thing. “Yeah, I’ll do it.”

  Sebastian smiled back. “Good.”

  He pulled the leash off of his belt and clipped it to the chain around Elijah’s neck. Elijah’s eyes went wide. He swallowed audibly, and the leash’s clip jangled against the chain. Elijah traced his slim fingers delicately over the chain and down the supple black leather.

  “Feels... kind of weird. To be on a leash, I mean.” Elijah’s pulse throbbed in his throat, so hard Sebastian could see it.

  “At first, yeah. But you’ll get used to it.” Sebastian tugged on the leash. “Come upstairs with me.” Elijah followed without a word.

  Sebastian stripped his own clothes off first. He held Elijah and kissed him, soft slow kisses until the boy’s shaking stopped and his hands grew bold on Sebastian’s bare skin. They fumbled Elijah’s clothes off in between kisses that had become frantic. The chain and leash stayed on.

  Sebastian led Elijah naked to the bed and wound the end of the leash around a hook set in the wall. “Lie down, baby,” he said. “On your stomach.”

  Elijah’s eyes widened, but he did as he was told. Sebastian stretched out on top of him, letting his erection nestle between Elijah’s buttocks. The renewed trembling in the young man’s body told Sebastian everything he needed to know.

  “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” Sebastian asked.

  “Yeah. I mean I’ve sucked cock before, but I haven’t... you know.” Elijah twisted his head around to meet Sebastian’s eyes. “Will it hurt?” His voice was small and scared.

  Sebastian stroked his hair and kissed his downy cheek. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I wouldn’t hurt you for anything.”

  It did hurt, judging by the way Elijah scrunched his face up and clawed the sheets when Sebastian entered him. There was no avoiding it, really, even after careful preparation with fingers and tongue, and using plenty of lube. But his little pain noises gave way within seconds to moans of pure pleasure that set a red fire in Sebastian’s brain. He lifted Elijah onto hands and knees and plunged deep, over and over again until the pressure inside him burst into the ecstasy of release.

  Elijah came almost immediately when Sebastian rolled him over and took his cock into his mouth. The boy’s wailing cry was nearly as sweet as the taste of his smooth young skin. Sebastian swallowed the warm semen, relishing the salty-bitter taste on the back of his tongue.

  “Fuck,” Elijah gasped. “God. God.”

  Sebastian cr
awled up and folded Elijah’s sweat-damp body in his arms. “You okay?” He kissed Elijah’s hair where it matted against his flushed face.

  “Yeah. That was so fucking great.” He gazed up at Sebastian with an absolute trust shining in his eyes.

  “For me too, sweetness.” Sebastian lifted Elijah’s chin and kissed his lips. “Go on to sleep now. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I’m taking you shopping. And we can go out to lunch, and go to the park if the weather’s nice.”

  “Sounds great.” Elijah laid a hand on Sebastian’s cheek. “I think this is gonna be good, Sebastian.”

  “It will be. I promise.” Sebastian raked his fingers through Elijah’s tangles. “Now go to sleep, baby. I’ll be right here.”

  Elijah laid his head on Sebastian’s chest. He was sound asleep within minutes. Sebastian lay awake for a while longer, lazily stroking Elijah’s back and thinking about the coming day.

  There were so many things to take care of. Elijah would go naked at home, of course, but would need clothes for when they went out. He would need a new collar as well, a nice soft leather one that wouldn’t chafe his neck the way the chain would. And a new mattress for his bed in the basement. The old one was hopelessly stained and still reeked of decay. James, his last pet, had been dead for days by the time Sebastian noticed. He still felt bad about that, but he’d been caught up in other things at the time and had simply forgotten to feed the kid. If only he’d let him run loose instead of keeping him chained...

  Sebastian shook himself. No use in beating himself up about it, he thought. If James had been loose, he would’ve just tried to run away again. He gazed down at the beautiful young man sleeping on his chest and smiled.

  “It’s going to be different this time,” Sebastian whispered against Elijah’s hair. “It is. Because you’re different. All those others, they weren’t good pets. They were too wild, they didn’t appreciate anything I did for them. But you will. I can tell.”

  Elijah stirred and whimpered in his sleep. Sebastian clutched him close, kissing the night fears away.

  Bad Medicine

  "Bad Medicine" first appeared in the erotic ezine Ruthie's Club in August 2005.

  *****

  When I got a look at the script Sal gave me, I about died. I marched right into his office the next day, seething with righteous indignation

  “What the fuck?” I threw the script on his desk. “I’m not doing this.”

  Sal smiled, shark-like. “You’ll do what the fuck I tell you, ya fucking fag.”

  “But, Sal...”

  “Shut your yap.” Sal stood up. His lumpy bald head almost brushed the ceiling. He glowered at me. “Filming for Bad Medicine started this morning. And you’re late. You get your queer ass over to wardrobe right the fuck now, an’ I better not hear no more complaints from you.”

  I started to protest. Sal frowned, puckering his unibrow. I shut up, snatched up my script, and backed out the door.

  Salazar Domingo was owner and chief scriptwriter for Domingo Productions. Six-foot eight of massively muscled, butt-ugly brute. He scared the bejesus out of me. Word on the street was he got booted out of the New Jersey mob for being queer. I could believe he’d been some mob boss’s muscle. I’d seen the messy results of a mere actor like me disagreeing with him. That’s the main reason I try not to.

  I sulked my way down the hall from Sal’s office to wardrobe, feeling sorry for myself. How the hell did I go from carefree college student to actor in the worst gay porn films ever made?

  “Greed, Jimmy,” I muttered to myself. “Greed and curiosity. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

  I tried to nip that line of thought in the bud. No use dwelling on it. Of course, whenever you try not to think about something, it automatically hijacks your brain. So I thought about it, for about the fifty-thousandth time. Wallowing in self-pity never actually helped, but it did make me feel better.

  My boyfriend was the one who’d told me about the auditions for a gay porno by a new studio that had just opened here in Atlanta. That was nearly a year ago. If I’d known he’d not only get me stuck in this crap outfit, but dump me as well, I’d have kicked his overly swishy ass. At the time, though, I was pretty strapped for cash, and the idea of being in a movie, even a porno, was tempting. I could do one film, earn enough to pay the next semester’s tuition, and forget about it. Domingo Productions obviously wasn’t a big player, so the odds of anyone I knew getting hold of the film were remote.

  How we delude ourselves when we’re broke, huh? I should’ve known when I first met Sal that he’d have me by the balls one way or another. I could’ve sworn the contract I signed didn’t say anything about more than one film. But when I refused to do a second, Sal pointed right at the clause that said, plain as day, that I agreed to make a total of twenty films for Domingo Productions. Twenty, I kid you not. I still don’t know how the hell he did it. What a way to learn you should always keep a copy of the contract.

  Sal’s demanding schedule eventually forced me right out of school. It pissed me off beyond belief that I had to quit college to star in pornos. Maybe if I had sucked (so to speak) in the first one, Sal wouldn’t have made me do more. Unfortunately, I exhibited a talent for sucking cock and getting fucked up the ass, and looking good while doing it. So Sal not only roped me into more of his mind-bogglingly awful films, but he made me star in them, too.

  Damn my exquisite good looks and enormous cock, anyhow. Ha.

  Wardrobe was packed with people in various states of undress. They were smoking and talking while they got their make-up and costumes on. Someone had put Placebo on the CD player, adding to the chaotic atmosphere. I squirmed my way through the press of bodies toward the sour-faced old woman who distributed the costumes.

  “Hi, Harriet. You’re looking lovely today.” I gave her a sunny smile.

  She grunted. “Whatcha got?”

  I looked down at the grubby papers in my hand. “Jack Auf,” I told her. I managed to keep a straight face, too. Go me.

  Harriet’s permanent scowl didn’t budge. She handed me a thin hospital gown made of blue cloth. “This is for the exam scene. What you got on’ll do for the other scenes.”

  I took the gown. At least I didn’t see any visible come stains, which in this outfit is saying something. “Harriet, you’re a robot, aren’t you? C’mon, you can tell me.”

  She raised her eyebrows and grunted twice, the corner of her mouth twitching just a little. For her, that was raucous laughter. I grinned at her and headed over to get my make-up done. At least that wasn’t going to be much, thank God.

  I waved at my friend Derek across the room. He waved back and tottered over, swaying precariously in white stiletto heels. His shaved, stocking-clad legs stuck out from under a white nurse’s dress that barely covered his ass. A nurse’s cap perched on top of his head. His shoulder-length hair was dyed bright red and styled into an honest-to-God Jackie O flip. Blobs of spunk clung to his hair and face. I couldn’t help laughing, he looked so ridiculous.

  “Ha fuckin’ ha, Jimmy.” He glared at me.

  “Sorry.” I put on my best fake serious face. “I’m betting you’re in Bad Medicine too, huh?”

  “Yeah. Just got done sucking off the doctor.” Derek snorted. “I swear, these things are getting worse by the day. You read the whole script yet?”

  “Yeah. Bigger piece of crap than usual, even.”

  “No kidding. So what’s your part?”

  His dark eyes glittered with amusement. He already knew—he just wanted me to have to say it. Bastard.

  “Jack Auf,” I said between gritted teeth.

  Derek howled with laughter. I waited patiently for him to calm down. It took a few minutes.

  “You done?” I crossed my arms and scowled at him.

  “For now.” He grinned. “Hey, I’m Nurse Cocks, for fuck’s sake. We’ve all got dumb-ass porno flick names, Jimbo. Don’t let it bug you. At least you don’
t have to wear a fucking dress.”

  He wandered off. I sat and pouted while the girl with all the jewelry in her face did my make-up. When she was finished, I studied myself in the mirror. I looked fucking amazing. Not for the first time, I wondered what the hell she was doing here. She was way too good for this shit-hole outfit. The make-up she’d put on me was subtle, but it made my plain blue eyes look aqua and gave my normally ghostly skin a golden shine. With my hair falling in shiny black spirals around my face and neck, I looked awfully damn pretty. I stuck my tongue out at my reflection, then got up to make room for the next actor in line.

  We had about half of the no-sex scenes done by mid-afternoon. It only took an hour to get done with the set-up scene for the first exam. God, it sucked bad. The writing, the set, the costumes, everything. It all sucked big, hairy donkey balls. I mean, come on, who the hell goes to the doctor because they can’t feel their prostate? But this is what Sal The Script Writer expected an audience to swallow. So to speak. It was all I could do to get through the scene without rolling my eyes and/or cracking up.