Date: Thu, 31 Dec 2015 22:14:49 +0300 From: Jack Pinkerton Subject: How Hunter Got Into Show Business, Chapter 2 How Hunter Got Into Show Business Chapter 02, Mb By Jack B Pink (jack.b.pink@yandex.com) http://www.asstr.org/~JackBPink/ Codes: b-solo(10, 9, 8), drugs, alcohol, eroticism, no-sex Please be aware that this story describes, in erotic detail, sexual interactions between males and between adults and minors (both over and under 14). The author vehemently discourages and condemns any sort of adult-child abuse including sexual abuse - even if all parties involved are "consenting" at the time. Seriously. It's not worth destroying a child's life to get off. Just read these harmless stories. This story is meant solely for entertainment purposes, not instruction. Please do yourself a favor and DON'T harm or abuse any real children. The characters and events depicted in this story are completely fabrications and in no way relate to real people or real events. Any appearance of similarity to real persons or events is completely coincidental. ***I thrive on feedback. If you enjoy this or any of my other stories, I'd love to hear from you. If I made you cum, let me know (consider it payment ;) ).*** -- "He's here! He's here!" Hunter's alto voice rang out from the front window as he jumped up and down in excitement. "Mr. Juiles is here." He ran to the front door but was pulled to a stop by his father. "Remember what your mother said. Don't let anyone touch your danger parts." Mr. Parish instructed his son. Somehow, he knew what it was going to take for Hunter to get into show business, but he remembered that check and the promise of many more, so he turned a blind eye as any good theatre dad would. "I remember. Can I go?" His father opened the door. "Break a leg." *** I watched the lithe little boy bound towards my car, an eager, easy smile on his face under his impeccably neatly combed light brown hair. He was dressed formally, a button-up dress shirt, blue blazer and matching slacks with a burgundy neck tie. A little formal for this affair, but damn he looked cute. I thought Baily would love to unwrap that packaging. Still, Millson liked to see more skin, and he was really the one that needed to be convinced. As Hunter got to the passenger door, his smile faltered. The nerves must have caught up to him, now that he was face-to-face with the most monumental moment of his life. He opened the door, and slowly got in. "Looking sharp, boy." I complimented while at the same time decided to start using the demeaning term he'd go by for the rest of the night. He was unfazed by the minor insult, as most naive boys were, but Hollywood perverts got their thrills by the secret. "Thanks," he mumbled looking at his hands. I sped off, telling Hunter all about the men he'd soon meet and the movies they'd made, the millions they'd earned. And the boys' careers they'd orchestrated. This gave Hunter a distraction he latched onto, forgetting his nerves for a while. But as soon as we pulled through Brendan Baily's gate and he saw the impressive mansion, he fell quiet again and started to breathe heavily. I reached past him and took a joint from the glove box. Lighting it, I took a short hit and felt the familiar waves of euphoria pass through me. "Here," I handed him the pot. He took it, but hesitated. "Just suck on it and breathe in. You'll feel better." After another moment of hesitation, Hunter did as I directed. His face immediately relaxed and he grinned cheekily. "Let's do this!" He opened the door, but I grabbed his hand and pulled him back. "Whoa whoa whoa." I studied him. "This is going to be a crazy party. Fun, but crazy. We don't want to mess up those nice clothes, do we?" He looked at me for a moment, then took another hit and smiled at me. "Should I go naked?" he laughed, undoing his tie. Drugs did amazing things. I took the joint from him, snuffed it out and returned it to the glove box. There'd be plenty inside so there is no point wasting my stash. I handed him a sack. "Change into these." Without modesty, Hunter quickly stripped in front of me. I gazed at his hairless boyhood. He looked up at me, seeing me eye his privates he giggled at me and wiggled his hips causing his inch of softness to sway. I laughed, amused at the child's antics. Hunter unaware of the stirrings he was giving me. Hunter pulled out his new party clothes from the bag. He quickly donned the shirt, but it was on backwards so I helped him turn it around. I felt the softness of the boy's skin as I pulled the shirt into place. It was green, with sequins styled in writing that said "I'm an easy pro". I don't think Hunter even looked at the words. He sat in front of me in just the shirt, which came down just below his belly button. I was tempted to have him go in just that, but that would be too forward. And it looked like the high was slowly ebbing, so we needed to get the the party soon, before the kid lost his nerves again. I handed Hunter the next item. He held it, looking at me in confusion. "Lift your leg." I helped him slide his foot into one of the holes, then the other. He pulled up the garment. I had him turn around, and pulled up the Flossy wedge tightly into his crack. The boy turned to me and broke my heart. He was wearing a short tee and a slutty red thong. I almost couldn't help myself and raped him there, but I would have lost millions if I ruined him now. Finally, Hunter pulled on the short, tight cotton shorts, white knee socks, and skater shoes. As he got out of the car, I admired his round bumps, pushing against his shorts for freedom. I got out of the car, too and immediately heard the thumping of dance music blaring out of Bailey's house. I took in a full once-over of my little boy charge. He looked like a preteen go-go dancer. Good. That was the goal. I took his hand and we walked to the party. *** Hunter was still in a bit of a fog as Mr. Juiles led him through the front door, but he still felt a little uncomfortable by what he saw. It just didn't seem normal or right. There were a couple dozen boys around his age or a little older on a dance floor grinding and bumping while a handful of men chatted and watched. This was Hollywood, but it was still very strange. The other boys were dressed similar to Hunter, in revealing clothes. Mr. Juiles slapped his butt and said, "Why don't you go dance?" he pushed the boy firmly in the direction of the dance floor. He leaned over and yelled into Hunter's ear to be heard above the music, "Remember, you're trying to impress. Have fun!" And he walked away to chat with the other adults. Hesitant and unsure, Hunter walked slowly to the other boys on the dance floor. He rubbed his elbow in a nervous tick. That weird cigarette Mr. Juiles had given him to relax had almost worn off. Hunter stood at the edge of the dance platform, watching the hypnotic gyrations of the dancers, not really knowing what to do. One of the boys, a small black kid in a white mesh football Jersey and white tight shorts takes a few steps in Hunter's direction to make eye contact. He smiles at Hunter and waves him over. Hunter smiles back, nervously, but walks quickly to the boy who has now left his small group. The black boy leaned in close and shouted, "I'm LeBoyd." "LeBoyd?" Hunter shouted unsure if he heard correctly. "Yeah, like LeBron, but better!" LeBoyd laughed at his own joke. Hunter laughed, too, his nerves relaxing. "You're cute," LeBoyd continued. "What's your name?" Hunter blushed at the unusual, but welcome compliment and he told LeBoyd his name. "Hunter's a cool name. A star's name!" LeBoyd said sagely. "Is this your first time to a Hollywood Big Boy party?" Hunter nodded yes. LeBoyd could sense his trepidation and smiled. "Here." The black boy proffered a glass to Hunter. "What is it?" Hunter asked. "Try it. It's like a chocolate milkshake, but with a little kick. It'll make you feel better." Hunter took a sip. It did taste like a milkshake with a little bit of spiciness to it. He started drinking thirstily as LeBoyd watched, smiling. When Hunter was done, LeBoyd took the glass and set it off a table before returning to Hunter. "Can I give you some advice?" "Yes, please," Hunter said "Have fun, dance, and do whatever those guys tell you." He pointed at the group of men Mr. Juiles had joined. Hunter followed LeBoyd's pointing and suddenly the room spun oddly. It was like everything slowed down. Or sped up. He couldn't decide, but it was funny. Hunter laughed which elicited another chuckle from his companion. "Do you know how to dance?" Hunter shook his head, laughing more at the oddly spinning world. Smiling at the tipsy, boy, LeBoyd took Hunter's hands and pulled the boy to him. He started to teach Hunter how to move with the rhythms. How to bump and grind and gyrate. Hunter was lost in the euphoric fun, laughing and dancing with his all, oblivious to the foursome of leering movie execs watching the new meat twerk, grinding, and gyrate sexily. Most of the other boys were in their own drug and alcohol fueled words, dancing alone or in small groups, trying to attract the attention of the older men watching. But one boy was unreserved in his seductions. Between the distractions of the spinning room and the intimate, exciting contact of LeBoyd as he rubbed his tight dark body against Hunter's, the ten year old noticed one of the few younger boy in the throes of his own world. He was a very cute blonde haired, blue eyed cherub with a little button nose, egg-shaped face, and athletic body. He was wearing jean shorts, cut to mid thigh and a tight tank-top. It looked like it was made of that fabric the use in speedos, or wrestling gear. Yea, Hunter decided, the blonde boy was wearing a bright yellow wrestling singlet. Hunter got excited at that thought. He'd done some after school wrestling. Maybe there would be wrestling here. He was good at that, and it would be a fun break from trying to dance. Hunter was sure he was flailing like an idiot, but for some reason, wasn't at all self conscious about it. As LeBoyd rubbed his chest up and down Hunter's body, he watched the little blond boy bust his moves. The kid was grinding by himself, squatting low and rhythmically thrusting his butt back, as if he was trying to rub it against the floor, but was just a little too high. LeBoyd was staring at the group of men, trying to see if he had captured any of their attentions while Hunter was transfixed to the blond boy who was standing up. He turned and noticed Hunter's attentions and smiled at the ten year old. With a practiced ease, the blond boy unsnapped his shorts and let them fall to the dance floor before kicking them out of the way. He continued to bump his hips up and down, forward and back. Hunter was right, the boy was wearing a wrestler's singlet. LeBoyd, realizing he had lost Hunter's attention, danced over to another small group of boys. The blond boy smiled at Hunter and made his way to him. Hunter smiled nervously at the boy as he came to him. The kid only came up to the bottom of Hunter's nose, but something about him gave him a commanding presence. "I'm Zachy," the blond boy eased his bouncing as he spoke in a quiet voice that rasped like he was whispering, though he was probably yelling as loud as he could. "You must be the new kid, Hunter?" "Yeah, its nice to meet you, Zachy. You have sweet moves." "Thanks, my sister taught me. She's a stripper." A twinkle shown in Zachy's eye made Hunter think the boy was just toying with him. "I can teach you sometime." "Thanks! How about now?" Hunter was eager to learn how to impress his (hopefully) future employers. "Nah, no time. This part of the party is almost over." Zachy indicated the dance floor, now much emptier than before. So was the rest of the room as many of the men and boys had seemed to vanish while Hunter wasn't paying attention. He didn't see Mr. Juiles or LeBoyd anymore either. This started to make him nervous that he was left alone. But Zachy was there and he seemed really nice. Zachy turned to continue dancing and Hunter gasped. The bum of Zachy's singlet was gone! Zachy once again squatted and grinded his hips, his white bubble buns opening. Hunter couldn't take his eyes from the little puckered hole. He'd never seen a butthole before. Some reason, he didn't think it would look so smooth and neat. But it did. It wasn't gross at all, but mesmerizing. -- Thanks for reading. I can be contacted at jack.b.pink@yandex.com. Did you enjoy this story? If so, please consider making a donation to keep Nifty alive. donate.nifty.org/donate.html