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Having been in the porn industry for several years, Simon was no stranger to up-and-coming talent, often being paired with them to boost their engagement as well as his own. And with the rise of erotica across social media, he was in demand for his persona as Ghost, the mystery man behind the mask.
He sat in his manager's office after returning from a day shoot, a glass of bourbon now in hand as they chatted aimlessly.
“New lads causing quite a stir Simon.” Price started, taking a pull from his cigar with a small smile on his lips. Simon raised an eyebrow, more of his face exposed due to the black medical mask he was wearing instead of his usual black balaclava with the printed skull.
“Which one’s that?” Simon replied, knowing that there were quite a few newcomers recently.
“John MacTavish, the lad with the mohawk.” Price pushed a folder across the desk towards Simon, gesturing for him to take a look. As Simon picked up the folder and flipped it open, he saw the man in question. A headshot of John MacTavish. Simon couldn’t deny that the man was attractive, there was something about the blue of his eyes that drew him in.
“And you have a file on him because?” Simon asked without looking up, he continued to skim through the bio that was plastered on the paper. John MacTavish, 23, 6’2, Scottish. Simon read through the list of previous video titles attached before flipping the page over to reveal a list.
“Price. Why do you have this?” Simon asked as he read through the list, it was a list of everything John was willing to do when filming and it was extensive. Impact play; restraints – all types; orgasm play – no chastity, the list went on. The more Simon read, the more intrigued he became by John MacTavish, they seemed to match well, likes and dislikes being similar. It could make for quite the shoot.
“His manager called me and pitched the idea of the two of you doing a scene together.” Price mused, taking another pull of his cigar. “What that involves would be up for discussion.”
Simon hummed slightly as he continued skimming the folder, contemplating the offer. It was a good one.
“I’m open to it, I’d want a discussion first though.”
“Consider it done. I’ll contact his manager and set it up.” Price confirmed with a small smile. “I’ve got a good feeling about this Simon.”
*
Two days later, Simon sat in a meeting room overlooking the streets of London, waiting for John MacTavish and his manager to turn up. Price bustled into the room with two disposable cups, one coffee and one tea, passing the tea off to Simon.
“Thanks.” Simon mumbled as he pulled his mask down slightly to take a sip. Again he’d gone for the black facemask over his usual balaclava, not wanting the meeting to be too intimidating for the Scot. He knew that most of his colleagues on set found the mask to be slightly intimidating, and a part of him wanted the Scot to feel comfortable.
In the days between the initial conversation with Price and the meeting he was in now, Simon had looked into John MacTavish, watching some of his previous videos and scenes for research purposes. They all seemed…softer than what he’d expected, more boy next door. God help MacTavish if that’s what he thought he was walking into here, Simon could only hope his manager had already explained that to him to stave off an awkward conversation once the meeting got started.
Price sat down next to him and pulled a folder from his bag before flipping through it and placing it on the table. Just as he did, the door was pushed open and two people walked in, Kyle Garrick who Simon recognised from working with his previous clients and John MacTavish.
“John, good to see you.” Kyle held his hand out to Price, a brief but firm handshake exchanged. “Good to see you again, Simon.” Simon nodded and shook the hand that Kyle extended to him. “This is John.”
Kyle gestured to John who was standing next to him, if not slightly behind him. Simon saw he had his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.
“Let’s get started then, shall we?” Price gestured to the two empty seats opposite himself and Simon which Kyle and John sat down in. Simon watched John seem to relax slightly as he sat, his hands leaving his pockets and coming to rest on the table.
Conversation flowed between Price and Kyle easily, they’d worked in the industry long enough to have the legal portion of the meeting squared away quickly, once possible scene ideas, boundaries and appropriate aftercare had been discussed, contract signing would commence if both Simon and John were happy with the terms laid out.
“I believe it’s best if we discuss boundaries next, is that alright with you both?” Kyle asked, aiming the question at Simon and John. Both replied with a yes and Simon leaned down to retrieve a list from his bag. Having been in the industry for a while, Simon knew where he stood with what he would and wouldn’t do, having it down as a list helped with clarification and left no room for argument.
“Mine is quite simple, the mask and shirt stay on during the entire scene. And I won’t have restraints used on myself.” Simon stated, sliding the list over to Kyle and John. Kyle picked it up and put it in the folder he’d laid on the desk before gesturing for John to speak.
“I’m open to most things except for chastity and well – the rest is listed out there.” John slid his own list over to Simon and Price. Simon glanced down at it; it was relatively short but to the point. The more extreme acts were a no which Simon found himself glad for.
“Are you both alright using the traffic light system?” Price commented as Simon passed the list off for him to file.
“Fine by me.” John replied quickly, Simon also nodded. The traffic light system was standard for shoots, green for continue as you are, yellow for slow down or change, red for full stop. It was like second nature to Simon at this point, he could only hope that John wouldn’t push himself beyond his limits.
His gaze shifted to assess the Scot; the photo didn’t do him justice. In person he was stunning, even through his clothes Simon could see the tone of his body. His staring didn’t go unnoticed, John glanced up and locked eyes with him for a moment before turning his attention back to Price and Kyle who had resumed their conversation.
The next hour of the meeting passed with discussions of what they’d like to have in the scene between them if this were to go ahead. Edging, bondage and degradation. Simon could do that with ease.
By all accounts, it seemed like Simon and John would work well together for the shoot, their likes and dislikes aligning well with each other. Kyle also seemed to think that John having a shoot with someone more experienced would do some good and allow him to understand how an intense scene should go if this was the route that he wanted to pursue. Simon could understand that, he had a reputation within the industry that even though the shoots he did were intense, he’d never push anyone past their limits.
As the meeting wound down, Price patted Simon on the shoulder and stood up from his chair, Kyle following.
“We’ll step out now and let you both discuss.” Simon nodded, as did John as Price and Kyle left the room, the door clicking shut behind them.
They both sat in silence for a moment, the tension was palpable and nervous energy radiated off John as if he had hundreds of questions.
“Ask what you want to ask Johnny.”
John raised an eyebrow at the nickname, he’d not been called Johnny since he was a child but coming from Simon it seemed…right.
“I don’t even know where to begin, this is a lot.” John started; Simon nodded slightly before speaking himself.
“I want to make something clear. I need to be able to trust you, much the same as you need to be able to trust me. I need to be confident that if it’s too much for you that you’ll safeword. Do you understand?”
Johnny nodded quickly, to which Simon shook his head.
“Words Johnny, use words.”
“Yes. I understand.” Johnny replied quickly, there was a flicker in his eyes, almost like a spark igniting. Simon smiled slightly behind the mask.
*
Simon was grateful for the week of downtime between the meeting and the shoot while Price and Kyle sorted the legalities and pulled together their usual crews, but there was a small part of him that was antsy for the day to come, almost excited. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this excited about a shoot. Maybe it was the fact that this was Johnny’s first shoot of this type, or that the man was attractive, but neither of those made much sense considering he’d worked with newcomers before and generally his partners were conventionally attractive. It made him wonder what it was about the Scot that had made him feel the way he was feeling.
The thoughts didn’t cease even as he pulled up on set to start filming for the day, the first scene of the shoot would be for set up, and plot purposes even though the plot was minimal. A CEO and his assistant arguing after a paperwork issue, all lines to be adlibbed. They’d been told to go with the flow and just feel it.
Simon walked in through the lobby towards the lifts, he knew where he was going having done a couple of shoots there before. He hit the button and when the lift arrived, stepped in and leaned back against the handrail inside as the doors began to close. A hand slipped through the crack of the doors and they reopened causing Simon to look up and lock eyes with Johnny who had just stepped in.
“Mornin’.” He mused, taking in the man before him. A thrum of arousal curled in his gut at the sight of Johnny, and a realisation washed over him. The reason for his excitement about this shoot, Johnny was his type. It caused a small smile to tug at his masked lips.
“Mornin’ Simon.” Johnny replied, a grin of his own tugging at his lips.
“Ready for the day?”
“Just about, you?”
“Mmhmm.”
*
“Ok, let’s have to both get into position. Simon, if you sit down behind the desk and look busy. John, if you start outside the room. You’ve just been summoned to Simon’s office and when you got the call, he didn’t sound happy. Can you run with that?” The director called out, barely looking up from his clipboard as he addressed the two of them. A soft “yeah” left Johnny’s lips as he went to wait outside for the scene to start. Simon took his position in the plush office chair behind the desk, paperwork scattered across it, a pen or two left out for good measure. He picked one up and began aimlessly scribbling on one of the papers, getting a feel for the role he was about to play, a cold, unfeeling CEO who wanted to put his PA on his knees.
“Alright, quiet on set.” The director called out and a few seconds passed as the chatter from the crew died down. “And action.”
Simon scribbled away on the paperwork, looking busy, allowing his gaze to flicker up to the door occasionally suggesting an air of impatience and frustration. The door clicked open and Johnny entered the room, coming into view of the camera holding a stack of files in his arms.
“You wanted to see me sir?” Johnny spoke quietly, falling into his role naturally. The use of the honorific made the feeling in his gut rise up again, he could feel a slight tightening in the trousers he wore.
“What do I pay you for MacTavish?” Simon grunted out, levelling a glare in Johnny’s general direction, catching sight of those crystal blue eyes which seemed deeper in the lighting of the set.
“Sorry?”
“It’s one screw up after another with you. Even the simplest things you can’t do right.” Simon spat, fully in character now, a role he found easy to fall into. He could see the heat in Johnny’s cheeks, the furrowing of his eyebrows as the words sank in.
“Awa’ an bile yer heid.” A tense pause, almost like Johnny was portraying a semblance of defiance. “Sir.”
“English MacTavish.”
“Sorry sir, let me translate. Go fuck yourself.”
“I’d rather fuck you.” A smirk tugged at Simon’s lips; a defiant bottom was one of his favourites for a shoot. It made the orgasm he gave them at the end that much more satisfying. He couldn’t wait to see Johnny fall apart underneath him.
“And cut! Excellent job lads, we’ll reset for the next scene. Take a break.”
*
After twenty minutes they were back in the room, Simon seated back in the chair and Johnny stood before him.
“On your knees.”
“Make me.”
Simon shot out of the chair, rising to full height. Johnny was 6’2 but Simon was by no means small, towering over him at 6’5. His hands clasped on Johnny’s shoulders and pushed down, sending him to his knees with a soft thud.
“Better.” Simon mused as he moved one hand from the Scots shoulders to lace it in his hair and tip his head back so Johnny’s eyes were fixed on him, tugging on the man’s locks sharply and drawing a soft whine from his lips. His other hand moved to his belt, making quick work of the buckle and yanking it off, the leather clacking against itself with a satisfying crack before dropping it to the floor.
He made quick work of his button and fly, pulling the front of his trousers open before palming himself through his boxers. He was already mostly hard from the sight of Johnny on his knees before him. And from a quick glance down it seemed Johnny wasn’t faring much better, cotton material straining against the pressure of his dick trying to break free of its confines.
“Make yourself useful MacTavish.” Simon spat as he used his grip on Johnny’s hair to press his mouth against the material of his boxers, Johnny’s hands scrambled up to pull on the elasticated waistband in an attempt to free Simon from the fabric restraint.
“Fuck…” Johnny whispered as Simon’s cock came free from the fabric.
“Go on slag.” Simon rasped watching Johnny’s pupils dilate from the degradation. “You can take it.”
With tentative movements, Johnny took Simon’s tip into his mouth, tongue pressing against the slit as he hollowed out his cheeks and gathered some spit on his tongue. He slowly bobbed his head, teasing the tip with his tongue on every pass to rile Simon up. And it worked. Simon tightened his grip on Johnny's hair and pushed himself further into the Scot’s mouth, working his hips rhythmically.
“You want to be a tease? That’s not going to work here slag. You’ll get what you’re given.”
Before Johnny could blink, Simon pressed forwards and sheathed his cock to the back of his throat. He scrambled for a moment, gagging on the intrusion, hands fumbling for purchase on thick thighs, fingers digging into the fabric of Simon’s trousers.
“Fuck…it’s like you were made for this MacTavish.” Simon groaned as he thrust in and out of Johnny's mouth, his head tilting back slightly at the pleasure he felt coursing through him.
Johnny moaned around Simon’s cock, his nose bumping against his pelvis with each thrust, gradually getting more ragged. His throat constricted again as he gagged on Simon’s cock, tears springing to his eyes and slowly trickling down his cheeks.
“Crying on my cock already…” Simon tutted as he kept a firm hold on Johnny's head, stilling him as he reached the base. The man below him was a vision, blue eyes turning glassy as tears streamed down his cheeks, but his gaze never left Simon’s.
Out of shot of the camera, Simon subtly moved his hand and lightly stroked Johnny's cheek as a sign of reassurance that he was doing well, extremely well in fact. Few people who Simon had worked with in the past had been able to throat his cock. Johnny leaned into the touch slightly and made a soft noise in his throat.
After holding Johnny like that for a few moments, Simon wound his hand tighter into Johnny’s hair and pulled him off his cock, a string of spit trailing down Johnny’s chin as he stared up at him.
“And cut! Excellent job lads.” The director called out, but Simon’s focus was on the way Johnny hadn’t moved from where he knelt yet, how he still held his gaze. Simon ran a thumb across Johnny's cheek gently.
“You did good Johnny.”
*
The next scene began around thirty minutes later with Johnny bent over the desk Simon had sat at, paperwork and folders scattered across the floor and his trousers around his ankles. The belt Simon had taken off in the scene prior was being used to keep Johnny’s hands tied behind his back.
“Comfortable Johnny?” Simon asked just before the scene began, wanting to check in.
“Yeah…I’m good.” Johnny sighed softly, exposed cock bobbing free below him.
“And action.”
Simon ran a hand across the bottom of Johnny’s bare arse, finger gently tracing over the line of his taint and up to his hole, pulling a shiver from the younger man.
“Is this what you wanted MacTavish? To be bent over my desk, arse in the air like a slag?”
A slight moan left Johnny’s lips at the teasing from Simon, only serving to encourage him more. Simon opened the desk draw and pulled a bottle of lube from it. He flipped open the cap and generously coated his fingers with it before returning to Johnny’s arse.
“I’m not known for being gentle sweetheart.” Simon rasped in Johnny’s ear, loud enough for the microphones set up around the room to pick up as he slowly circled his hole, gently prodding at it with one finger. A soft whine left Johnny’s lips as the tip of Simon’s pointer finger slid inside, feeling the initial stretch. It wasn’t painful, just more than Johnny was used to. He came to the realisation that everything about Simon was big, including his fingers.
Simon’s finger slid in and out with gentle precision, occasionally catching Johnny’s prostate but for the most part, avoiding it all together. It was all a part of the shoot, to get Johnny worked up enough to beg, granted Johnny could fake it if he wanted to but Simon knew his capabilities. He’d have Johnny begging for more in no time.
Once he started to buck back onto the first finger, Simon added a second, knocking the wind from Johnny’s lungs.
“Fuck sir…” Johnny whimpered as Simon aimed both fingers for the bundle of nerves that made up Johnny’s prostate. But Johnny seemed to grow impatient, pushing back onto his fingers as much as he could.
Simon brought a hand down onto his arse, drawing a stuttered moan from the Scot and a reverberating slap echoing around the set. Johnny’s dick jumped at the burning sensation on his arse cheek.
“You take what I give you.” Simon rasped as he grabbed the belt around Johnny’s wrists and held it tight to keep him in place.
Two fingers turned to three, then three turned to four until Simon deemed Johnny was stretched enough to take his cock. Johnny was a writhing mess on the desk, sweat making the prop paperwork stick to his skin, breathless pants condensing onto the desktop, precum dripping onto the floor from his rock hard, untouched cock.
“Please…” Johnny whispered breathlessly as he tried to wiggle his hips back. Simon smirked behind the mask.
“Beg sweetheart.”
Grasping the base of his own cock and slicking it up with the remaining lube, Simon teased Johnny’s hole with his tip as he heard a sharp intake of breath from the man beneath him, a slight shudder running through him. Johnny tried to push his hips back again to sheath himself onto Simon.
Another slap landed on Johnny’s arse, leaving behind a bright red handprint behind.
“F-Fuck! Please sir, give it to me.” Johnny whined as Simon soothed over the mark on his arse. “Please!”
“Much better.” Simon muttered as he sank inside of Johnny slowly, a garbled moan fell from the man’s lips, hands gripped onto the soft leather that bound his wrists for purchase. “Still so tight sweetheart.”
Simon set a slow, teasing pace to start with, nudging up at Johnny’s prostate with every other thrust sending the man reeling.
With a grunt, Simon leant forward and pressed his masked lips close to Johnny’s ear. “You’re in for a long night.”
*
“Please…please sir, let me cum.” Johnny whined as his orgasm was staved off by Simon tightly wrapping his hand around the base of his cock for the third time. The younger man struggled desperately to get his hands free but Simon held on tight to the belt restraining them, removing any inch of give in Johnny’s restraints. His hips flailed wildly against the desk, trying to rub his cock on anything that would give him friction but with the way he was positioned, he was under Simon’s control.
“Desperate little thing aren’t you.” Simon muttered as he pistoned his hips, fucking into Johnny’s tight hole. “I’m a patient man MacTavish; I could do this all night.”
A ragged sob tumbled from Johnny’s lips, whispered pleas breaking through on every thrust until finally a choked moan slipped out and Johnny’s head dropped to the table, his dick twitching as it painted the floor white. His hole clenched tightly around Simon’s cock creating a delicious friction.
“Fuck sweetheart, perfect…fuckin’ made for me.” Simon gritted out as his thrusts became sloppy, chasing his climax. After a few more thrusts he buried himself deep inside Johnny and came hard, vision darkening around the edges slightly.
As Simon came down from his climax, he let go of the belt restraining Johnny’s wrists and placed them on either side of his body on the desk. His breathing was ragged as he slowly pulled out, watching his cum chase after him and trail down Johnny’s thighs.
The director called the scene to a close and with that, Simon unbuckled the belt around Johnny’s wrists and placed a hand on his shoulder reassuringly as an assistant dropped off two robes in case they needed them.
“Alright Johnny?” Simon spoke quietly as Johnny pulled his arms into his body to push himself up from the desk. He flashed Simon a small smile.
“Solid. Jesus that was…” Johnny took in a shuddering breath as he stood up, more of Simon’s cum trickling down his thighs as he did so. Simon could see that he was shaking, just about able to hold himself up but a small smile was present.
“Let’s get you robed up and sat down yeah?”
Johnny nodded, put on the robe handed to him and kicked off the trousers that were around his ankles and followed Simon on shaky legs, a slight limp in his step and a pleasurable throb from behind. He didn’t have to go far as Simon swung a door open on the set revealing a comfortable looking sofa, a couple of chairs and a table.
“Breakroom. For aftercare you said you like to be held…figured this would work if that’s what you wanted?”
“Yeah…that would be good.”
Simon guided Johnny over to the sofa and sat him down before grabbing a pack of wet wipes from the table laid off to the side. Johnny took them gratefully and carefully cleaned himself up as best he could before leaning back on the sofa. Simon took a seat next to him and hooked an arm over the back, leaving an opening for Johnny to tuck into the side of him.
He was almost immediately engulfed by the other man, Johnny practically clung to him. Simon wrapped both arms around him tightly and guided his head down to his shoulder.
“You sure you’re alright Johnny?” Simon asked quietly after a few minutes of silence, only broken by their breathing. Johnny nodded slightly.
“’M alright, just, no one’s ever done this for me before…” He sighed softly. “Feels nice.”
Simon’s gaze narrowed slightly but he chose not to say anything at that moment. It would be a conversation for another time.
“Can have it for as long as you want it.” Simon murmured as he carded a hand through Johnny’s mohawk.
Johnny stayed tucked into Simon’s side for about twenty minutes before starting to move to leave, but for the first time since joining the industry, he didn’t want the Scot to leave just yet. Something was telling him to get to know him better.
“You got plans after this?” Simon asked to which Johnny shook his head, blue eyes locking with brown. “Fancy a tea?”
“Fuckin’ Brits. Coffee if you’re offering.”