by Ty Jacob
The crew was already taking the equipment inside, and Sasha and Billy followed them into the lobby. She handed Billy his contract and a pen, telling him not to bother with the contact details, just give a signature. Billy sat on a sofa nearby to sign.
“Toshi!” Sasha yelled. “Find a room for the extras to wait in.” Then, partly talking to herself and partly asking anybody who would answer, she said, “Now, which way to the weight bench thingies?”
Nobody answered, and as she started turning toward a hallway to her right Billy got up off the sofa. She felt his hand on her arm.
“That’s the aerobics room,” he said. “The weights are over that way. Up those stairs.”
She looked at him and paused. “How do you know?”
“Oh. A friend of mine brought me here, once.”
“Really? When? I didn’t know that.”
He shrugged. “You don’t know everywhere I go.”
She felt a tiny stab, and she recoiled. It must have been obvious, because Billy’s face turned immediately apologetic.
“It was just yesterday,” he said.
“With who?”
“With my friend…” He paused, and then blurted out a word. “Joe.”
“Joe? His name is Joe?”
Billy looked at her, paused again, shook his head. “No. I’m sorry. His name is Kerry.”
“Kerry? Why did you say Joe?”
“It’s Kerry. He’s just a guy I work with. I’ll show you the weights. I signed the contract. It’s over there.” He gestured toward the sofa.
She didn’t like that he brought up the contract now. This had nothing to do with the contract. “So you were here yesterday with some stripper? That’s where you were? Why didn’t you tell me? You just said you were hanging out.”
“Yeah. Hanging out. Working out. Whatever. It’s no big deal, Dale.”
She snapped. “That’s Sasha when I’m in drag, boy.”
“Sorry.” He turned and walked up the stairs.
She grabbed his contract and threw it into her handbag, then followed him. She tried to tell herself that working out with a friend meant nothing. She simply wasn’t used to the idea of Billy having friends. Yet by the time they’d reached the top step, she’d decided there was something more to it than that. There was something secretive that made it troubling.
At the top of the stairs she said, “Which one is he? Have I seen him dance?”
“Maybe. He’s tall and blond. He has an ankh tattoo on his hip.”
Sasha remembered the ankh, and nodded slowly.
Billy turned and led Sasha into the large weight room. She tried to focus, to concentrate on the work at hand. Hugh, her cameraman, approached her and wanted to discuss spots for shooting. Billy walked away. She began walking around with Hugh, looking at angles and mirrors. It was difficult knowing Billy had been in that very gym yesterday, sweating with some stupid stripper – someone who wasn’t a paying customer, someone whose name Billy at first didn’t want to share.
She found a good location with weight benches, no mirrors to catch the camera, and lots of step machines, treadmills, and rowing machines perfectly placed in the background.
“This will be good for the lead-up” she told Hugh. “But not the sex.”
Hugh looked at her critically. He had a large belly and thinning hair. “Steve told me he wanted sex in the weight room, on a weight bench.”
She glared. Hugh was like an old, smelly dog, stupidly loyal to its owner. “I’m the director here. Set up the lighting, please.” She waved her hands dismissively toward the benches. Hugh shook his head but got to work.
Sasha called out for the sound guy to get moving. Then she found Toshi and told him to set up a table downstairs in the aerobics room with the food.
When Max showed up with his dim-witted smile, she walked over to greet him. “Doll, I’m so sorry that your friends aren’t well.”
“Yeah. It’s a real downer,” he said, his smile fading for a just moment. “They’re really sick.” Max was wearing a tight green T-shirt with a large white ‘69’ on the chest. Sasha had to admit that the T-shirt showed of his gym-toned pecs very nicely. Suddenly he looked at her directly in the eyes, with an unmistakable aggression, and he said, “Blane should be directing this.”
She paused. Did Max suspect something? “Well, daddy’s not here,” she said. “And I am. And the show must go on.” She put a hand on his chest as though to soothe him, then saw Billy at the other end of the room playing with the weights.
Max saw him too. “Is that the bottom?”
“Yes, it is. You don’t know how lucky you are today, Max. There are a lot of men who pay good money for that ass.”
Max nodded slowly and Sasha yelled out, “Billy, come here. I want to introduce you.”
As Billy walked over she pushed everything away, all her thoughts about Billy’s possible secrets, all her own fears, and she began a kind of performance. She became playful and silly, smiling and speaking in a cheerfully naive voice, as though reading a children’s bedtime story. “Billy,” she said, gesturing to Max. “This is the big, bad top who’s going to pounce on you and fuck your sweet little ass. Max, this is the eager bottom who’s going to give it up to you like sugar on a Texas hotplate. Now, you two just get acquainted.”
She immediately turned to walk away, wanting to leave them alone, and she saw Billy offer Max his most charming smile. This did not upset her. This was work. It was why they were here. Although the cameras hadn’t yet started rolling, she knew this moment was crucial. If the models weren’t into each other, if they weren’t put entirely at ease, all the careful lighting and cutaways and insertion shots and post-production editing would add up to nothing. Some directors got so caught up in elaborate plotlines, fancy camera angles, and moody effects that they forgot the most important fact: the heart of any good porn film was not just good sex, but human connection. And you didn’t get the good sex without the connection. She always gave the models time together before a shoot, always tried to make them comfortable with a joke and a smile.
She was looking around for a second location in the gym when she saw Günter standing on the other side of the room. He was wearing yet another mesh tank top. This one was red. He had no reason to be there. It looked like he was flirting with the sound guy. She stomped by various weight machines to get to them. “Günter, what are you doing?”
“Steve asked me to keep an eye on things,” he answered. His melon-shaped biceps bulged. His voice sounded decidedly German today.
“So, you’re like his little Nazi spy, is that right?”
He smiled, showed his bright white teeth. “I suppose so.”
“Listen. Number one: stop distracting my crew. Number two: if you get in my way at all, or make one tiny peep while filming, you’re out of here. I don’t care what Steve says. And number three: people who watch, work. Go downstairs and help Toshi with the food.” Sasha turned to the sound guy. “Doll, what’s your name again?”
“John.”
“John, darling. Stop drooling and get back to work.”
Günter paraded off. John turned away only when Günter was out of sight. Sasha looked around for Terrence, her makeup artist. “Terrence! Let’s start makeup. Billy, Max, over here.” They’d been sitting on the floor in the corner, talking and laughing. They were leaning in close to each other. It was a good sign.
She led the three of them into the men’s locker room. This was her first time to have a real makeup artist, and it felt fantastic. It had always been up to her to pull out some of her foundation and cover any blemishes on her models. She told Billy and Max to undress. “Terrence, I want their balls shaved. And Billy’s asshole too.”
Billy began taking off his shirt, and Sasha watched. Even under the glaring fluorescent light of the locker room, his skin was flawless. “Billy, you are damn beautiful,” she said, watching him as he took off his jeans. “Now grab one of those enemas and make sure your butt’s clean while Terr
ence starts on Max.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Billy said, saluting and giving her a teasing smile.
As he walked naked toward the toilets he passed in front of her, and she reached out and slapped him playfully on the ass. He jumped and shouted, then poked her in the stomach with the enema box before running away. She smiled. Maybe, just maybe, it was going to be okay.
Max hadn’t even started undressing. He was looking at his face in a nearby mirror.
“Max,” she said. “On the double. Get your clothes off.”
He gave her a look that seemed almost shy, somewhat hesitant, and then began moving slowly, slipping off his gym shoes, gradually pushing down his long basketball shorts.
When she saw the bare skin of his legs, she screamed. “Ah! What’s that?!” There, on Max’s tanned and muscled thigh, was an enormous dark purple bruise.
“Rough trick yesterday,” he said.
“Be careful with those tricks, doll. And no rough stuff before filming, even if you like it, and even if they pay extra. Bruises and cameras don’t mix.” She sighed and moved closer to inspect the damage. “What were you doing working yesterday anyway? You should always take a day or two off sex before shooting.”
“Huh? Why would I not have sex?”
“You’re joking, right?” The look on his face showed that he was not. She rolled her eyes in exasperation and looked up at the ceiling, as though talking directly to the goddess. “Do I honestly have to work with this?” Turning back to Max, she explained. “Doll, taking time off gives you more cum. A better money shot. One to two days off is best. But you should never take more than two, because then you get too excited and chances are you’ll pop too soon.”
“Don’t worry.” Max smiled. “I eat lots of egg whites. And I took zinc before I got here. I’ll come buckets.”
“Oh, doll.” She shook her head. Egg whites and zinc had nothing to do with it, even though so many silly models swore by them. “Listen, if you ever do another movie for me, no sex for two days before filming. Got it?”
“Blane doesn’t make us do that.”
“Do I look anything even remotely like your precious Blane?”
Max sneered. “No. You’re just a stand in. You’re not even supposed to be here.”
“Jesus fucking Christ. Would somebody give me a sign that says, ‘I’m the director?!’ Is there not a single person here that believes a fat bitch can direct?!” She stared down at Max. He was naked. Her pink tracksuit covered her from head to toe. “Listen to me very carefully, Max Pole.” She spoke in a low, hushed voice. “If you refuse to cooperate with me tonight, not only will I inform Steve of that fact, but I myself, Sasha Zahore, will personally smear shit across your name from here to New York City. Don’t mess with me. Got it?”
He looked away.
“Got it?” she repeated.
He nodded. “Got it.”
She looked him up and down. His body was much more attractive than his face, and his dick was huge, which made up for his dopey looks entirely. She pointed to his bruise. “Terrence, you know what to do. After you’re done shaving those balls, hide that nasty thing. It ruins the view.”
Terrence took out shaving foam and a razor and led Max toward the sinks while Sasha wandered around the locker room. She still needed one more location, a private place. There would be no sex in the weight room. It was going to be better, more real. She looked in the showers, but they were too open, too public. The toilet stalls were too cramped; it would be difficult to film in there.
She’d almost given up on the locker room altogether when she found a large metal door. It led to a kind of boiler room with a hot water tank and a furnace. Pipes and metal ducts ran across the ceiling. There was an old stationary bike missing its pedals in the corner, and a stack of thick, blue floor mats up against one wall. In the middle of the room there was an open space, big enough for two people and a cameraman. To one side there was a weight bench with a cut across its vinyl surface.
“Eureka!” Sasha yelled. She would give Steve sex on a weight bench, only better.
After some time, the lighting and sound were ready. Billy and Max were clipped and made up. Billy’s ass was clean as a whistle, and everyone was prepared to start shooting. They began with the publicity stills, which Sasha knew had to come first, so the models weren’t too sweaty and tired.
Hugh was doing both the video and the stills. She explained what she wanted from the stills and then supervised it all. First they shot Max, and then Billy, and then the two of them together. Max, fortunately, did as he was told. Together the boys posed in their gym gear, then semi-naked, then naked, standing by the weights and sitting on weight benches with stiffies.
Hugh called out directions. “Eyes here. Elbows in. Breathe out. Abs are tight. Flex your dick.”
From time to time, Sasha interrupted. As Billy was sitting on the weight bench with his back to Hugh, she called out, “Billy, squeeze your shoulder blades together! Arch your back. Now point your asshole directly at the camera. Perfect!”
When they were finished with the stills, she had Billy and Max put their gym gear back on. She explained that Max’s character was aggressive and assertive while Billy’s was shy and inexperienced. Then she instructed Toshi to bring up the extras so she could place them around the gym, on step machines and treadmills. She told the extras that they should never ever look at the camera. They were to stay in the background, working out, so it would feel like a real gym, a real situation. Two of the extras stood off to the side, ready to walk past in the background when she pointed. It felt good being the center of it all, giving directions. People were starting to listen to her.
“Max,” she said. “I want you to start out sitting here on this weight bench, doing some workout thing, something with your legs spread wide.”
“I could do seated shoulder presses,” he said. Then he showed her what they were, sitting on the end of the bench and lifting his arms over his head with two black dumbbells. He spread his legs.
“Fantastic, doll. Thank you.” She was relieved to find that he was actually being helpful.
She walked through the blocking with the boys. Then Hugh picked up the video camera, and John held the boom. Sasha sat in front of a monitor nearby and yelled, “Action!” The extras began rowing and stepping. Billy walked up to a seated curl machine, which was positioned directly facing Max. He glanced at Max. They shot Max throwing back an interested glance, and then filmed Billy doing curls as he stared at Max’s open legs.
“When’s the sex?” Hugh asked from behind the camera.
“You just be patient,” Sasha said. “This is build-up.”
Next she asked Billy to do something to show off his ass, and Max suggested stiff-legged deadlifts, which he showed Billy how to do. Billy stood straight while holding a barbell in front of him, then bent forward, keeping his back arched and tight. “Oh, Billy,” Sasha said, and turned toward the room. “Everyone, just look at that bubble butt! The boy is truly blessed!” The people standing around nodded in unison.
Terrence began spraying Max and Billy with a water bottle so that they looked naturally sweaty. They filmed Max doing biceps curls as he watched Billy’s deadlifts. Then Sasha pulled Max aside and gave him the one line of dialogue that she’d included in her script. She told him to relax and to avoid speaking stiffly. It had to seem casual. “Pretend you’re really trying to pick him up,” she said. “I’m sure you’ve had practice at that.”
Max smiled.
After Sasha yelled “Action!” again, he walked over to Billy – the cameras rolling, John holding the boom – and he delivered his line.
“Hey buddy, could you give me a spot?”
It was horrible. His voice was awkward. He sounded like an idiot, insecure and scared.
“Cut!” Sasha marched over to him. “What was that?!”
Max looked at her apprehensively, but said nothing.
“I’ll tell you what it was!” she screamed. “It was woo
den and horrible. I want the wood in your dick, boy, not your voice.” Suddenly she realized what she was dong. Max was drawing back. He wasn’t at ease. She calmed her voice, placed her hands on his arms, and gave him a loose, quick massage. “Oh, you just relax, doll. I’m sorry. You’ve been helping out. You’re great. Really, this is easy. He’s a hot guy in the gym and you want him. That’s all. Nothing new.” She turned over her shoulder. “Billy, do you think Max is hot?”
Billy nodded. “Fuck yeah. Can’t wait to get that big dick in my ass.”
Sasha smiled warmly. She knew Billy would say just the right thing. He could be such a thoughtful boy.
“See, Max?” she said. “He wants you. Hell, I want you. Everybody here wants you. You’re hot. You’ve got a beautiful body and a cock that deserves to be worshiped. Just think of how big your dick is when you say this line. Confidence, doll. Confidence. Now, let’s try again.” She gave him a tender pat on the cheek. “Okay?”
It took three more takes, but finally the line came out smoothly and believably. Sasha ran up to Max and pushed her cheek against his, holding his head with one hand. “That was wonderful,” she said.
“Really? You think so? Honest?
“Listen, doll. You will always know where you stand with me. Absolutely. It was perfect.”
He beamed. “Thanks, Sasha. Thanks a lot.”
She had wooed him. He was once again a little puppy dog.
The last shots they did in the weight room were of Billy and Max spotting each other as they did bench presses. There was a lingering shot of Billy lying down on the bench, ready to do a set of bench presses, and Max standing behind the barbell, his crotch close to Billy’s head. Sasha screamed, “Stare, Billy! Stare!” She couldn’t help it. They’d have to edit her voice out in postproduction. Billy took a long look up at the bulge in Max’s shorts. “Max, grab your beautiful crotch!” she yelled, and Max did. “Now look at Billy and gesture toward the locker room,” and Max did. Finally he led Billy off camera, as directed.
Next they quickly filmed the scene where Max and Billy looked for a place to have sex in the locker room. Sasha had one of the extras changing as they walked by. Max and Billy found the large metal door that led to the boiler room, slipped inside, and shut the door tightly behind them.