Intergalactic Porn Star Pt. 06

Author's note:

Intergalactic Porn Star is a work of gay male fiction, set in the distant future, about an organisation that provides hardcore porn to the colonies.

This episode contains bloodplay/edgeplay and emotional sadism, as well as themes of non-consent, set inside a controlled environment.

Please note, if you haven't been exposed to the world of BDSM/edgeplay, or R.A.C.K (risk-aware consensual kink), and are disturbed by the content of this story, be aware that there are individuals who enjoy this kind of play, and who derive a great deal of pleasure from receiving it. The character in this story is one such individual.

* * *

I woke with what felt like a hangover—which was impossible, since they didn't let us drink enough to get drunk, never mind regret it the next day.

I sat up and looked around the cell. Ash watched me from his bunk. He'd taken to pulling his mattress back up onto his bunk in the mornings "to keep the cell tidy". It seemed to me that the routine of him putting his mattress back on the floor to sleep each night was a kind of comfort ritual for him. It reminded him that someone else was in control of his life, and that let him close his eyes.

Seeing me awake, he got on his knees beside the bed and waited for me to give him instructions.

"Not today."

With a sour look, he got up and sat back on his bunk, while I swung my legs over the edge of mine.

"Oh Christ."

I put a hand to my head, which was throbbing like I'd been struck with a baseball bat.

"Are you okay?" Ash asked, but before I could answer him, the room slid sideways.

*

I woke in the infirmary and blinked away the gaussian blur to see Greaves and the on-duty medic standing at the end of the bed. They turned their attention to me as I started coughing. The coughing tasted bad, as if something was in my lungs.

"What happened?" I rasped.

"You're fine," said Greaves. "Just a little reaction to some of the local microorganisms. Our air filtration system is very efficient, but every now and then the odd bacterium hitches a lift via dust from the hothouses. It's nothing fatal, but you'll need to stay here until the antibiotics run their course, so you don't transfer the infection."

He handed me a paper cup of water, which I drank down in three gulps, and he refilled it and set it on a nightstand by the bed.

"You're not in danger?" I asked him. Christ, talking felt like swallowing sandpaper.

"As your handler, I've been pre-emptively dosed so that I can check on you."

"What about Ash?"

"He's also been dosed, although it's entirely possible you picked this up from him. He is known for his... sallies, into the garden, and has some immunity. It's one reason we try to keep you all in the safety of the complex. Now, get some rest, so you can recover."

He left, and the medic dimmed the lights. I was in a private room—not quite quarantine—but there was nothing to do except watch the screen at the end of the bed.

I found a movie channel and let it play while I drifted in and out of sleep. I lost track of time. Maybe it was three hours, maybe it was five. The lighting didn't change, so there was no way of knowing, but at some point, I heard a commotion in the corridor outside.

"Let me through!" Ash's voice.

"No, you're on shift, get back to work." Greaves, I was guessing.

"I don't want to work with Vinnie! He's a fucking asshole—"

There was a choking sound, followed by the thump of someone hitting the ground. Maybe two people. Greaves tackling Ash?

"No! Don't put that—"

The words choked off. Christ, what was going on out there? I hauled myself out of bed and dragged myself through medical to the open doorway that lead into the hall.

Ash was on his knees, struggling against Greaves, who had his arms in a lock and a knee against his back. I recognised the smooth rubber collar around Ash's neck, and knew it was unlikely to be set to 'pleasure' mode.

"Ryan, go back to bed," Greaves snapped.

Ash looked up, hope in his eyes. "Ryan! You know Vinnie wants to hurt me. Please tell them!"

Greaves sighed. He let go of Ash, who immediately put his hands to the collar. Greaves rolled his eyes as he activated the collar, watching dispassionately as Ash spasmed against the floor.

"Ryan, go back to bed. I'll handle this."

I frowned as Greaves didn't let up on the button. "Hey, that's enough."

Greaves raised an eyebrow as he took his finger off the remote. "He has work to do. Right now, Vinnie has dead air. No one earns a cent when there's dead air."

I crouched, since I couldn't stand any longer, and Ash got up on his hands and knees and crawled over to me. His long hair was tangled around his face, damp with drool and tears.

"He hates me!" he said desperately, "you know he hates me."

Everyone hates you, I thought, but I could understand why he wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of someone like Vinnie.

"Is there no one else?" I asked Greaves. Speaking made me break into another fit of coughing, which resulted in a gob of pale pink lung-snot landing in my hand. "God, that's disgusting."

"Yes, you should be in bed, not risking infecting the rest of the facility," said Greaves.

He grabbed the back of Ash's collar and dragged him to his feet, then shook him hard. Ash didn't fight back, but his eyes pleaded with me.

"What about letting him top Henri?" I suggested. My head was swimming, and I leaned back against the wall. "Something different. I'm sure the sponsors will love it."

Ash's face lit up, but Greaves was having none of it. "This isn't up to you, Ryan, I suggest you don't put ideas in the boy's head."

"Ryan, please!" Ash pleaded.

I was getting a cold butt as my exposed ass pressed against the wall. This was going to happen, whether I liked it or not.

"Sorry Ash, I tried."

"Get moving," Greaves said, pushing Ash ahead of him. "And you, go back to bed. I don't want to see you on your feet again until you have medical clearance."

*

More time passed. I wasn't sure if I watched one bad movie, or three that all looked the same. I wondered how Ash was doing, then realised there was bound to be a way I could watch. I went back to the main menu and checked—and there they were. The internal live feeds. I paused at the feed that showed a screenshot of Ash and Vinnie's faces, mocked up from their promo pics.

I was sure he was fine. I mean, I'd seen him willingly take Kav's dick repeatedly... how bad could a day's shift with Vinnie be?

I started the feed.

Ash was crouched in a corner of the scene room. Crouched. Like a crazy person. He was still wearing the rubber correction collar, and he looked no less terrified than he had in the corridor earlier.

The studio held a large bed with a steel frame rigged around it. It was ringed with anchor-points and restraints that allowed a sub to be bound or restrained in all manner of crazy positions.

Vinnie had his back to the room as he selected from a wall of tools. He was dressed in leather assless chaps that had buckles down the sides of the legs. His outfit was topped off with a leather harness that strapped across his hairy chest in an 'x', and as I watched, he selected a rattan cane, and turned back to Ash.

I knew from my training that the one he'd selected had a good chance of breaking the skin, and that it would sting like hell if he used it correctly. Would that bother Ash? Probably not. I wondered if Vinnie knew that. I'd have been surprised to find he didn't.

"Boy, here."

Ash's chest heaved as he got to his feet. His eyes were huge and dark with fear, and he looked as if he was trembling. But what was he afraid of? He loved pain. He constantly tried to get me to brutalise him. And if anything went wrong, there was nanite cream, masquerading as lube, that Vinnie could apply to the wound.

In the top corner of the screen I could see his stats going crazy; his sponsors ticking up, the number of live stream watchers exponentially increasing by the second, and his biometrics—which had his heartrate stabbing into the 120s. Vinnie's weren't listed. This was all aimed at Ash's audience.

"Boy, here, now." Vinnie pointed at the floor directly in front of him.

Ash's heartrate flashed higher, and he reluctantly moved around the bed to stand where Vinnie wanted him.

Now that I could see him properly, I could see he was already covered in marks and bruises. It looked as if either he, or Vinnie, or for all I knew, Harvey, had decided he should wear them, at least for the length of his shift.

His ass was striped with red slashes, contrasting with darker black and purple bruising. His back was red, the kind of high colour of a bad sunburn—or a prolonged impact session.

He stood in front of Vinnie, who loomed over him at six foot four, a skinny waif with his long hair in a knotted mess, his eyes downcast.

Vinnie gave him a sadistic smile. "Good boy. We don't want to have to use that collar now, do we?"

Silently, Ash shook his head.

Vinnie leaned in and spoke into Ash's ear. I was guessing there was a stream delay, because the engineers cut out the audio. I knew the gear was sensitive enough that they could have picked up a whisper, but for whatever reason they dropped the audio feed for those few moments. It didn't matter. You could see the impact his words had on Ash. He started trembling uncontrollably and looked as if he might pass out.

I told myself he was an actor, that he did this for a living. His sponsors love it, and they pay him to look as terrified as possible. It's an act. He's fine.

But I knew Ash, and I knew he was genuinely afraid of Greg and all Greg's friends, especially Vinnie. I knew he hated being thrashed by people who didn't care about him, even though the pain was the same. I knew he felt disrespected. I knew he felt as if he couldn't fight back.

With me, he wanted me to put him down—that was what made him most comfortable. He wanted me to take all his rage, all his anger, all his petty brattiness, and shut him up. With Vinnie in control, he was just straight-up miserable.

"Down."

Ash kept his eyes on the ground as he sank to his knees. He put a hand to Vinnie's hard cock and Vinnie batted it away.

"Did I tell you to touch me?"

Ash shook his head, his eyes still fixed on Vinnie's boots.

"Look at me when I speak to you, boy."

Ash raised his head, and the cameras focused on his face from half a dozen angles. In that moment, I'd have done anything to take him out of there. His distress was too real. The 'poor-me' act might be the same as any given Tuesday, but Ash's emotional state in that moment was not. I could see it all right there in his eyes. His anger at being forced to work with someone he hated, his defeat at having agreed to this life. His despair at being unable to escape it.

But while it made me flinch, clearly Vinnie got off on seeing Ash like this, and so did Ash's sponsors. Comments flashed up under the stats panel.

"Fuck his mouth!"

"Suck him good bitch!"

"Now that's a *real* master, slave boy!"

"You got what you deserved Ash you should have behaved urself!"

"I'd fuck u so hard youd never sit down again!"

"Two hundred Cs vinnie if you fuck him without lube!"

So many exclamation marks. So much bad grammar. From the steady roll of comments, I got a sense of the frenzied horniness of everyone watching. His fans were a bunch of illiterate fucking piranhas, all wanting a piece of Ash's ass.

"Now boy, here's the deal. You've upset me, taking off like that. You know you're going to get punished no matter what you do at this point... but make me come in under ten minutes, and I'll go easy on you."

Ash's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard. I could tell he was wetting his mouth, struggling with himself. He didn't think he could do it. I wanted to tell him that he could... that with his talented mouth, not even a prick like Vinnie could hold out. But Ash's heart just wasn't in it.

Vinnie glanced up at a screen out of shot in a corner of the room. I knew it'd be showing him the time, stats, biometrics... everything I could see. He waited a few seconds, then looked back down at Ash.

"Go."

Ash steeled himself, and a change overtook him. He went from terrified victim to slutty man-whore. If I hadn't known him as well as I did, I wouldn't have known how forced his smile was, how hard he was working to get that sexed-up look into his eyes as he took hold of Vinnie's cock. But it worked. Seeing Ash reduced to a snivelling wreck had Vinnie's rod hard and leaking before Ash so much as put a hand on it.

Ash wrapped his lips around the head and started working his tongue in that oh-so-talented way of his, and Vinnie wrapped a fist in Ash's lank hair and let out a sigh. He put his head back and closed his eyes, every now and then opening them to drink in Ash's enforced submission.

Ash was a pro. He not only had a lifetime of sucking cock under his belt, but more than two years working at IGPN. He knew when to tease, and when to suck for all he was worth, and this time was no exception.

I could see Vinnie's climax building in the tension in his arms as he guided Ash's head, in the way his ass muscles clenched, in the hooded look of lust in his eyes.

"Oh fuck." He exploded into Ash's mouth in just under eight minutes, and Ash gulped his load down greedily, before tonguing Vinnie's cock clean like a hungry dog looking for the last lick of gravy in its bowl. When he was done, he sat back on his knees, waiting for Vinnie to give him some kind of acknowledgement.

Vinnie stroked a hand through Ash's hair, gathering the worst of it away from his face, then tugged his head back.

"Not bad. Shame you took too long."

Ash's eyes went wide with dismay. He tried to look behind him to see the screen, but Vinnie's grip on his hair tightened and he couldn't turn his head.

"You don't believe me, boy?"

Comments flashed up on the screen so fast they were almost seizure-inducing.

"Oh yea Vinnie, teach him a lesson!"

"Punish him!"

"Hang him upside down and piss in his mouth!"

Vultures. They were all vultures.

Vinnie stroked his cock with one hand while he watched Ash's face closely. To my surprise, there were no tears. Instead, Ash seemed to move from disbelief to anger, finally adopting what I knew was his 'about to cause trouble' look. He was going to bolt again, I was sure of it. I doubted it'd do him any good—Greaves would either be waiting for him, or he'd have guards on the exits to the studio.

Ash mouthed something up at Vinnie and Vinnie leaned over him.

"What's that?"

"You lied," said Ash, his low voice almost inaudible, even with the mics boosted. "That's not fair."

Vinnie broke into a grin. "Fair?"

Vinnie got a good hold on Ash's hair and yanked him to his feet. He turned Ash around so that he could see the monitor off camera.

"See what that says there?"

"It says 'Do your—"

Ash's words were cut off by Vinnie jerking his hair hard, causing him to wince.

"Don't read it out. Just do as it says."

The cameras focused on Ash's face. He was going to explode. I could see it rising in him. His muscles tensed, and he spun back to face Vinnie, clearly intending to escape past him, but Vinnie was ready for him.

"Oh, no you don't."

As Ash bolted, Vinnie grabbed him around the waist and lifted him off the ground. Ash struggled against him, but Vinnie was too strong. He walked Ash over to the bed and threw him down, then climbed on top of him. He sat on Ash's chest as Ash spat and swore at him and pinned his wrists to the bed.

"Going to behave yourself?"

Ash continued to unload insults, and Vinnie lifted his weight, gripped Ash in a wrestling hold and flipped him onto his stomach.

There was nothing Ash could do as Vinnie gripped his skinny wrists above his head, fastening them one by one to the bedframe, then did the same with his feet. Once Ash was secured, Vinnie selected a ball gag from the wall. He knelt beside the bed and caressed Ash's cheek.

"Anything you want to say before I stuff this in your gob?"

"Go to hell, you fucking sadistic pri-gggggh."

Ash continued to swear as Vinnie forced the gag between his teeth and secured it tightly at the back of his head. Once it was in place, he returned to stroking Ash's face.

"Could've used the collar on you, boy, remember that." Vinnie moved a tangled lock of hair away from Ash's eyes. "But I do enjoy watching you struggle."

The scrolling wall of comments slowed, as the sponsors and watchers held their collective breath in anticipation of what Vinnie would do next.

I reminded myself that we'd all signed our contracts, in exchange for more money than we could hope to earn in a lifetime. We'd agreed to this. IGPN knew there'd be days when we didn't want to do the work that was expected of us, and that was why the contracts were so tightly written, why Greaves had reiterated it all to me before we left Earth. The show had to go on, all day, every day, and if you were the star...

I continued repeating this to myself as Vinnie went over to the wall of tools and came back with a fine-bladed all-steel knife. He ran the blade over the pad of one of his fingers and a thin line of blood appeared.

Ash watched him carefully, his eyes glued to the knife.

"We all know you like to bleed," said Vinnie. "Isn't that right?"

Comments spattered across the chat box.

"Yeah, make him bleed!"

"Cut him, cut him!"

"He looks so pretty when the red water comes out."

That last one was a bit odd, but alright.

Ash didn't make a sound, but I could see the excitement in his eyes as Vinnie held the knife in front of his face. Vinnie knelt by the bed.

"Now, you do know, this isn't for you, don't you, boy?"

Ash's eyes left the knife and locked to Vinnie's. A look passed between them. Vinnie, filled with sadistic anticipation, and Ash, clearly as turned on as I'd ever seen him. But no less terrified.

Vinnie dipped his fingers into the open pot of 'lube' by the bed, and the camera feed operator focused on the knife while the nanite cream healed the cut he'd made to his own finger.

"If you'd been a good boy, we might have ended our session with some nice, aesthetic knife-work. But you weren't a good boy, were you?"

Vinnie laid the knife on the table next to the bed where Ash could see it and gathered a bunch of additional items and brought them over. A candle, a lemon—of all things—and a bottle of... Jesus, really? Hot sauce. Fucking hot sauce.

He set the items on the side table and glanced up at the screen above his head.

"Now, we have an hour left to carry out your punishment. How do you think your public would like to see you... 'entertained'?"

Ash made noises behind his gag, which sounded as if he was asking for lemon juice. His eyes kept flickering between the hot sauce and Vinnie's face, as he struggled against his bonds.

Vinnie glanced back up at the monitor. Ash's gaze followed but I could tell he couldn't quite see from his bound position.

"Right. The people have spoken."

Vinnie fetched a blindfold, and Ash screamed into his gag as Vinnie tied it behind his head.

He signed up for this. He had you bite him. You've drawn his blood. You know he loves pain. He loves it. Needs it. He's fine.

Vinnie grinned down at Ash, lying helpless and spread-eagled on the bed. He took the blade in his left hand and began to run his free hand over Ash's body.

I could tell from the way Ash's shoulders twitched and his butt cheeks clenched, that he was a combination of terrified and aroused. It wasn't the thought of the pain to come that bothered him; he just hated Vinnie having power over him.

Vinnie waved a hand in the air, and the lights dipped to around half-brightness. In this twilight, the candle sent shadows flickering across the walls. I suspected there were lighting effects in play in tandem, as 'firelight' played over Ash's pale, naked body, casting more light than a single candle could manage.