Reginald Gallagher

Reg quickly learned that "meet and greet" often meant a one on one interview in a hotel room where Reg was often asked to strip. He was getting off every day—often more than once each day. Photographers and their assistants were often required to "take care of an erection" during a shoot. He was the quintessential underwear model and sex idol—with an insatiable erect cock and libido.

During the first week into the gig, Bob invited Reg to a special dinner. Evensted was very pleased with his discovery. He was making a fortune. But, he wanted more. Dinner was at a famous restaurant. After dinner, Reg was invited to join Bob for a nightcap—and of course he complied. Joe had well-trained him to respond to a dominant older male, particularly one with so much economic influence over his future. So Reg knew he was going to be fucked. Bob wasn't a bad looking guy: a little grey, but with toned muscles and a decent sized uncut dick.

They reached the condo and both stripped down to their CK's. Bob went to the bar and poured them each drinks. Then he pointed to the sofa facing the view and, after Reg sat, he joined him, pressing his thigh to Reg's as he did so. Reg was not a babe. He knew what was expected. He looked into Bob's eyes asking whether he wanted a hand-job, a blow-job or more? Bob smiled and V-d open his legs. Reg dropped to his knees and obediently began to suck. Soon he had Bob hard and leaking. Bob grabbed his head and pulled Reg off. "Let's go to my room. I want a piece of that legendary ass."

Soon they were in Bob's massive king. Reg had been pushed onto his chest and had routinely raised his ass into position. Bob thought to himself that Joe had well-trained this guy. He would go far in this business: he submitted without question and knew his place. Bob lubed himself and Reg, wrapped (he had no idea how much exposure Reg had already had), and began the slow assault on Reg's chute. Reg was tight, but elastic—he had already been taken many times by Joe's massive cock and had been forced by Joe to keep a plug inserted most of the time. Bob was in heaven. This guy was a responsive and respectful sub who knew how to make a top feel he was eating forbidden fruit—for the first time, everytime. And yet although Reg's body screamed dom, he was submissive. Reg had cum instantly when Bob first entered, but explained to Bob that he should continue. Reg would recover in a few minutes. Fifteen minutes later, the two hot and breathless guys exploded again, Reg his second time in less than a half-hour. Bob knew he had a star—and that he had had a star. Reg would be in his bed from now on whenever they were alone in the condo.

The next school year passed quickly. Reg made bi-weekly trips to New York, was carefully tutored—including advice on potential colleges and universities. His grades held and certainly his celebrity persona shone through in his applications (particularly when he included a ghost-written essay which described the famous Times Square CK billboard incident).

Bob was pitching NYU, but the Rev and his wife wanted something in Texas. The Reverend of course hoped that by keeping Reg in Texas, he could continue to control his golden goose and the related bank account. By January, Reg knew he was headed to Rice in Houston. Rice had made special arrangements—he could complete his degree in five years and take some courses on-line—which would leave him enough time to exploit his modeling career. They would also make the necessary adjustments to have him participate in the cross-country and track teams.

Throughout the year, Bob maintained his ownership of Reg, at least his dick and his ass—although he "rented them out" often to key clients, publishers, and even a few friends. Reg had turned into a world-class model—and a much-sought-after "escort". He was in enormous demand—for photographic shoots, as arm-candy at cocktails and galas, and as a bed partner—mostly for men, but also for the occasional cougar. He was just over 19, but already wise to the ways of the world of high class "modeling." And he had the ability (and the apparent desire) to be taken or to take others many times each day.

Of course during the year, Reg had begun to develop his own persona—or perhaps more accurate, two personas. He realized his body and face were gold—and his dick was platinum. He carefully maintained them with exhausting exercise, massages, creams, lotions, and the magic of dressers and make-up artists. He began to recognize that he could get anything he wanted by giving or taking or even sometimes denying sex. But, he realized that acting the sub, given his commanding body, typically yielded better economic results than coming on aggressively. The incongruity of a magnificent dusky Adonis stretching out spread-eagled on white sheets with a bubble butt poised for plunder by an obviously lesser mortal was just beyond expectation. In fact, soon he had a burgeoning checking account—quite separate from the trust, controlled by his father, into which he deposited his extra-curricular compensation and Publicis "extra fees" before the year was up. He also had closets full of clothes—mostly of the intimate variety, but also workout gear, jeans, tees, polos and even some dressier items—all provided gratis in the hopes he would be photographed wearing them. A few regular partners had even given him bling—a gold chain, a bracelet, a ring. He started to resent Joe's domination of him—not because he hated being the sub, but because Joe had not given him enough in return. But, he didn't give up on Joe; he just rationed Joe's time with him. Reg knew not to burn any bridges.

As Reg approached young adulthood, his shell hardened. Sex was just something else he had to sell. He had never had occasion to develop feelings for any partner—and he doubted that anyone had ever had any for him—except raw lust. He was intelligent and street-smart. He was a loner and kept his ideas and plans very close. Thus, he was perfectly poised to be the sociopath he was becoming. And narcissistic sociopaths make perfect models and escorts.

It was inevitable that he would break with the Reverend. It happened in a long and spectacular verbal fight when the Rev discovered the second bank account. Reg demonstrated his total command of vulgar, sexual and eschatological vocabulary—to the utter horror of his father. He was cast out and disowned—an action that the Reverend came to regret as the regular monthly payments were transferred to another account controlled by Reg himself. He had broken with family. He had accepted Bob as his pimp, agent, and dom—but only for so long as Bob continued to make it worth it to him financially. And he had kept up his occasional bouts with Joe—all before he entered Rice. With those two guys, he was always docile and submissive; with everyone else he was in control—even when he played the role of bottom.

Reg was a young man to be reckoned with. He had learned his lessons well. He was on his way to fame and, he hoped, fortune. BD