Global Entertainment is a novel in progress, so please be patient about my posting subsequent chapters. It is fiction, nothing about it is real except the house at 6th and I Streets, SE, WDC. The copyright to the story is mine and it cannot appear elsewhere in any medium without my express permission. If you are not a legal adult in your country, please read no further.

I have another story running in Nifty's Scifi/Fantasy folder -- Taylor Mountain. The incest in it is further removed than in GE, but both have vampires as major characters. If you still need more hot vampire tales after reading both of these, Starbooks has just released my latest anthology, LOVERS WHO STAY WITH YOU. Nifty has links to several bookstores and if you order through those links, you'll be earning Nifty a commission.

I need your feedback to know if I'm writing a story that has readers. Please write me at vichowel@aol. All comments are welcome. Make sure you put Global Entertainment in the subject box so I'll know that your e-mail isn't spam.

Dave MacMillan




No red-blooded boy with a muscle in his body would want to sit around watching fuck movies all afternoon, not when he had sunshine and lots of snow just beyond the door and his lover just as raring to go play as he was. Global Entertainment had paid us good money over the past eighteen months, though; and we were responsible adults.

Ned and I brokered a settlement between ourselves before we'd even reached the kitchen where we figured we'd find Valentine. We'd watch vids of ourselves that had been doctored to make us look like sex maniacs until lunch. Then, we'd give us two hours to play in the snow. Then, we'd watch episodes from Queer As Folk until dinner. That way, we'd have our fun and still do our duty to the company.

"Die Herrn please play on property behind the house," Valentin told us. "I watch you there, yes?"

As much as I hated to remember it, we had been told not to wander off on our own. Ned didn't say anything but walked over to the sink and looked out at the backyard. I followed him. It didn't look bad. It was maybe a bit too secluded, but neither of us knew anybody in DC any way. Besides, it looked like real virgin snow out there. So, why not?

Ned and I both nodded our agreement. Valentin looked relieved. I wondered if maybe Jody and Johan were a lot harder to talk into doing something.

"Come," he said and led us into the living room and up to a big-assed, state-of-the-art entertainment center that had to have cost thousands.

He flicked a couple of switches and the TV came on. He picked up a video and raised it before placing it at the opening of the player. "Put here," he said. Then, he took out a CD and put it on the pop-out tray of the CD player. "Put here," he said again.

Right then, I wondered just how stupid Germans might think Americans were.

"Yeah," Ned said, "we've got it." From how frosty his words were, I figured that Ned felt we were being dissed, too.

Valentin took a long, loving gander at the equipment before turning to fix each one of us with a look that could kill. He didn't say anything, though. He just walked out of the room, pulling the sliding doors together behind him.

"I've been wondering how this computer-generated shit of us really looks," Ned said as he stepped over to the VCR. "I mean, do you think it'll be good enough to fool us?" He picked up a vid and put it into the player.

"Fool us?" I grunted and plopped down on the sofa in front of the TV. "I hope not. But, then, it doesn't matter as long as you keep that dick of yours out of other asses for real."

Ned joined me on the sofa as the FBI warning showed on the TV screen. I handed him the remote and snuggled up to him.

"Give it to me hard!" a guy growled and a bed began to squeak. But the screen in front of us was still dark.

The screen began to brighten. Slowly. Teasingly.

My gaze riveted to the screen, my mind trying somehow to coach the fuck scene that it knew was there to come into focus faster.

A guy appeared, kneeling, his legs spread wide. The camera concentrated my attention on his flexing, gyrating butt cheeks before pulling back enough that I could see his back and the ankles crossed behind his neck. The guy was Ned.

I'd know his butt anywhere. I'd explored every inch of it with my fingertips, my lips, my tongue, my eyes. It was Ned's butt up to and including the little mole on his cheek just where it was beginning to swell. It was Ned's back, including the little tuff of hair in the small of his back.

I didn't recognize the feet crossed behind his neck. That hurt. It felt like I had a couple hundred pounds suddenly sitting on my chest. It was hard to believe.

The camera shifted to the side and I was looking at Ned's profile as he pounded a cute blond hard. It was definitely Ned's dick going in and out of that butt the same way it did mine. The blond was slim, boyish. His face was slack, his lips parted, his blue eyes glazed. The blond wasn't me.

The camera shifted again and the blond reached out and gripped Ned's flexing hip. His other hand pulled on a decent-sized dick that was hard. I watched as his fist moved up the shaft, pushing skin in front of it until it'd covered the whole dickhead and bunched up.

I shut my eyes and wished I was a million miles away. There was no way this couldn't be real. I wanted to cry.

I knew it wasn't real, though. There was just no way. We went on shoots together. We made love every day, several times a day. There just wasn't time for Ned to score a guy like the blond and get him comfortable with my brother's cock working his butt. The blond was definitely comfortable with a big dick working his butt. He was enjoying it; from the looks of how tight his balls were drawn up, he was about to shoot.

"Jesus H. Christ!" Ned groaned, leaning towards the TV with his gaze riveted to him piledriving the blond boy on the screen.

I forced myself to start looking for where I left off and the computer started playing fast and loose with reality. I didn't see one part of the blond's body that looked like it didn't belong to him.

The guy's fist buried itself in his balls. His dickhead expanded and he was erupting like a volcano. Ned kept pounding his butt, and the blond kept erupting. It seemed to go on forever. I felt queasy.

The one place where I felt good was that the kid hadn't eaten his load like I did on video. At least, I had that one thing going -- Ned and I did, because there wasn't anybody in the whole wide world that made me feel as good as Ned when he fucked me.

Ned pulled out of the blond's butt and pulled off the condom. He leaned over the kid and aimed his tallywacker at the blond's face like he did with me.

My teeth gritted when I realized the dick that had just started firing was the same exact one I'd come to know so well over the past eighteen months. Ned had to be fooling around behind my back. There just wasn't any other way.

I eased away from him on the sofa. Not much, just enough to give myself about a foot of space between us. Ned could be a real fool when his dick got hard; he had a real hard time thinking when his blood went south.

I wanted to think things through before I got lovey-dovey with him again. And I didn't want to be too close while I was doing all that thinking. Being a fool sort of ran in our family. I could be one really big fool when Ned started hitting my hot spots.

The scene on the TV shifted from Ned and his blond fuckbuddy to a long-haired brunet leaning against some lockers. He was shirtless and had an expansive, smooth chest. His eyes were green and his grin was pure playful imp. He had a big-assed spider web tattoo that went from nearly his neck across his shoulder and down his arm almost to his elbow. He wore a shit-eating grin and was rubbing the front of his gym shorts.

"We're along here, and I know you want it, Rick," he said as the camera pulled back. "I want you to have it. All of it." His mouth was forming entirely different sounds than the words I was hearing. But the voice was pure, unadulterated sultry American male. My dick jerked and grew a little bit.

A guy was sitting on a bench facing him. It was my head, my back, and my butt on that bench. I was naked -- at least, I didn't see a band around my waist showing I was wearing a jock.

The brunet stepped closer, his fingers moving to the waistband of his shorts. His grin became a leer. Then, he was standing in front of me in just a jock, his shorts falling down his legs as he stopped between my legs.

The camera shifted and there was no way I could pretend it wasn't me sitting on that bench. It was my face, my body, and my hard, cut dick. I had a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look on my face, and it was damned obvious I was staring straight ahead at the pouch of his jock.

"Pull the jock off for us, Rick," the voice said.

The camera moved almost behind me as my hands went out to the waistband of the jock. The pouch looked as it was going to split any second, it was so stretched.

His almost black pubes weren't trimmed like mine and Ned's. It made me feel as if the brunet was more of a full-grown man than just a full-grown boy. There was a dagger tattooed on his hard abs just above his pubes.

On screen, my hands were under the band and moved to knead his butt cheeks as they forced it over them onto his thighs. Only the brunet's hard dick held the jock pouch in place. My hands caressed their way over his hips back to the pouch. Ever so slowly, I pulled the pouch towards me.

I gasped when his dick finally escaped and rose up to slap his belly.

The brunet had to be ten inches! And thick. I'd never believed a dick could be as big around as a beer can, but this guy was. And his foreskin covered most of its head.

"Suck it, Rick," the voice said as the brunet pushed his hips forward and his piss slit touched my lips.

In shock, I watched as my image opened wide and the brunet pushed half of his pole into my mouth.

I'd never done what I was watching. Only with Ned. Never with any other guy, and never with anybody as big as this guy was. The brunet sure wasn't Ned, even though I couldn't see his face.

I couldn't believe anybody could get something that big in his mouth.

But, on screen, I did. I watched spellbound as the brunet began to face fuck me and more and more of his dick slid into my mouth until my nose was burying itself in his pubes on the downstroke.

The worst thing was that it was my face on his dick, and that dagger tattoo made it fucking obvious that it wasn't my brother's dick playing tiddly winks with my tonsils.

Ned stared at the TV, his body tensed. His hands were fists. He looked like he was ready to light into somebody for real.

The brunet pulled all ten inches out of my mouth. He stroked them a couple of times, pulling the skin all the way up over the head each time. "Straddle the bench, Rick, and bend over," the same sultry American voice said.

On screen, my eyes were glassy as I got into the position. Then, I was standing up, straddling the bench, bent forward to grip it. The brunet moved behind me and rubbed his monster down my crack until it slipped between my legs.

The camera shifted to catch my face as the brunet positioned himself and pushed. My face took on a look of lust realized as more and more of that pole worked its way into me.

I'd seen how I looked on film before. When Ned was entering me and when he worked us both towards orgasm. It was the same look.

The camera shifted and I was looking down at my bush-covered butt cheeks. On the screen, I'd taken all of that ten inch beer can. My back was arched. My butt cheeks were spread.

"Fuck me!" I grunted to the brunet without looking back at him.

Inch after inch of him pulled out of my butt. A sense of relief flooded over me when I saw the ring of the condom come into view. At least, I hadn't let the guy go in bareback.

I sat up as that thought struck me.

Nobody but nobody had ever got near my ass, except Ned. Not in any of our shoots, not at school, not anywhere. Yet, I was sitting here watching me get fucked with a monster.

I started looking hard for any sign of where this computer simulation shit had traded Ned for the brunet with the big dick. All I could see, though, was that dagger tattoo and a dick that made Ned's eight inches look like a baby's as the guy's body humped mine.

I tried to remember when Ned had taken me bent over as I was on the screen. But, from the very first video we'd made, I'd insisted on facing him when he was in me. We didn't even do it from the side like we did it in bed when we were alone. That's how I'd learned to angle my load so I could catch it in my mouth.

We'd never fucked like I was being fucked on the TV screen...

My eyes went wide so much they hurt.

We'd done it once. For our screen test. But that had been in the scout's motel room, not in a gym. There hadn't been any benches, much lockers and shit. Just the scout telling us he wanted Ned to fuck me the third time that morning. I didn't remember the man moving around and catching our fuck from different angles with his camera.

I concentrated on the TV screen and the brunet fucking me. There wasn't anything in the background that remotely looked like a cheap motel room. It was all gym. Just like it was all me bent over and taking the guy's dick up my butt.

I began to think that Ned wasn't watching the video any more. I looked up and found him studying me hard.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"Rick, just tell me that isn't really you on that screen." There was a pleading quality to his voice that I'd never heard before.

"Either that's not me or it isn't the brunet," I said. "The only time we've ever done it that way was during our screen test."

His eyes lit up. "Yeah, I remember."

"Tell me that wasn't really you fucking the cute blond," I told him, watching him.

He met my gaze, his hands in his lap, and didn't look away. "You're the only guy I've ever messed around with, Rick," he said and looked down at his hands. "I don't even think of myself as gay -- I just happen to have fallen in love with a guy."

I took a time out to digest that. I'd looked at the equipment the other guys in our vids had. I'd even looked at some guys at school and wondered what they had between their legs. But I'd never gotten hard for another guy. I'd never fantasized having another guy pounding his dick into me. The only guy I'd ever thought of sexually in more than a cursory way was Ned. I was in love with him. And it didn't matter if he was a guy or not. I loved my brother.

I chuckled.

"What's funny?" he asked.

"It's a good thing neither of us is a girl," I told him.

"Huh?" He studied me like I had just grown horns.

"Yeah. Neither of us is really interested in guys as such. We're just into each other. Can you imagine what it'd be like if I was your sister, instead of your brother? "

"Ewww!" he groaned and threw a pillow at me.

"Let's don't watch any more of these videos," I suggested.

"Yeah. I was sitting here watching you and that guy with the big dick and ran a full gambit of emotions from jealousy, to anger, to hurt, to full hard-on -- all at the same time."

"Sounds like a wild roller coaster ride to me," I said like a wiseass, then relented. "That's how I was feeling watching you with the blond."

"I really do love you, Rick," he said in a whisper.

"I love you, too."

"Why the hell did that von Muribor guy want us to watch this shit?" he grumbled, figuring we were right with each other again.

"Remember? Jody said something about opening America up for distribution. The Prince said the same thing..."

Ned shuddered. "I don't mind guys in Europe looking at my dick strutting its stuff," he said softly. "I guess I don't really mind them seeing your butt getting plugged, either. But I don't think I want to have a bunch of American gay boys watching that -- especially not guys in Georgia who might see us..."

"Ned, we're a couple!"

"The guys who watch these fuck films won't know that. That's what bothers me -- them seeing you get plugged and you liking it. By different guys. They'll just think you're a super good-looking slut."

I didn't like that image of me one bit. But I knew he was right. Every Tom, Dick, and Harry who saw me with different dicks porking me would never believe that I didn't put out.

"This morning, didn't the Prince seem to be implying that maybe our vids might not have to be sold over here?" I asked, real quietly.

"Yeah, he did, I think," he answered. "That's why he wanted us to watch this Queer As Folk stuff."

"Ned, I don't want to appear in more videos if they're going to be sold in America."

"I'm with you on that one all the way," he agreed.

"I don't want to watch any more of you seeming to fuck somebody else..."

"Or somebody seeming to fuck you," he added.

He stood and walked over to the VCR. He rewound the tape and ejected it. "We've had enough of this shit," he growled at the tape before slamming it down with the others.

You want to be a little rougher next time," I suggested. "Maybe you'll break something."

He shook his head slowly and looked back over his shoulder at me. "Sorry, Rick, but that second scene just got to me. It was almost like watching you get raped and not being able to do anything to stop it."

"I sure hope the Prince has another option besides that one." I looked down at my hands, more than a little embarrassed at just how raped I was feeling. "I've got a feeling Global Entertainment's vids are going to be sold over here just like they are in Europe -- us models paired off by computer generation. Even if you and I aren't really putting out for anybody else but us, it's sure going to look like we're real sluts."

"Yeah," he groaned, then suddenly grinned. "Let's go find some snow to play in -- just you and me with no computer generation."

* * *

We changed the schedule we'd agreed upon around -- we played first, then ate. A foot of snow was more than enough to play in, especially as the temperature hovered at thirty degrees while we were outside. We played and built up an appetite, even though we both were frozen stiff by the time we went back in.

I wasn't sure about the cold goose sandwiches had waiting for us. Maybe it was because it was my first time eating goose, but it tasted funny to me. I ate just enough of one sandwich that I didn't insult Valentin. I absolutely refused to eat the cucumber sandwiches, though. Maybe they were high society, but I had very low brow tastes. I had a really wicked desire for a juicy hamburger and fries by the time that Ned and I returned to the lounge.

Ned headed toward the DVD player. "No more skin flicks, right?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Anything but!"

"Okay, but it's going to be the first year of Queer As Folk then." He pushed the disk tray in and came over to sit beside me, bringing the disk's plastic case with him.

"So, what's it about?"

"Shit if I know. Give me a minute to read through the syllabus and I'll tell you."

I was quite for maybe five minutes. The only thing on the TV screen was the menu board to Queer As Folk and that got boring real quick. "So, what's it about?"

"A pack of gay guys in Pittsburgh, their friends, and their families. The guys are buddies and always on the prowl ... Pretty dysfunctional bunch, I'd say."

"Who's the blond cutie?" I asked, pointing to the front guy on the cover of the four-color syllabus.

"He's Justin in the series. He's in high school and goes after the pack leader and almost breaks up the group."

"If he'd been in school with me," I mumbled, not even thinking what I was saying, "you wouldn't have gotten my cherry."

Ned hit my arm above the elbow. Hard. I started at him hard, trying to figure what had set him off.

"I love you, little brother," he said, emphasizing each word. "I'm not going to get horny for any guy but you -- but it's got to be that way for you, too." I heard his teeth grit. "We're not sluts, Rick. We're not going to be sluts, either. Not ever."

Okay, so I had verbalized my thoughts about Justin's looks. Not the brightest thing I'd ever done. "My body's yours," I told him, trying to make peace. "Nobody else's."

"And if this guy walked up and gave you his number?" he shot back, not ready to be mollified.

"Now? Nothing. I'd tear it up in front of him."

Ned relaxed. We were back on an even keel.

I decided not to tell him that, back in high school, we were only brothers -- not lovers. If there had been a guy like the blond around back then, I'd have realized I was queer as whatever real fast -- and I wouldn't have waited for Ned to threaten to knock my block off before I gave up my cherry butt.

Guys in swim trunks danced to a wicked beat as the credits began to roll.

"Jesus!" Ned cried. "That guy's got a hard on!"

He grabbed the syllabus and skimmed through the first couple of pages. "Showtime aired this show nationally for five years."


"This is almost as graphic as one of our fuck films -- and it's a hell of a lot sexier. It was on national TV, too ... Jesus!"

"Isn't Showtime pay-per-view?"

"Yeah, like HBO ... Jesus!" Ned stared bug-eyed as the boys danced until they started fading out.

The blond cutie showed up on the street to open the first scene and I was in total lust.

I mean, I love my brother. I'm in love with him. And he's one of the hottest men I've ever known. But ... I was in lust.

Five minutes into the first episode, Justin was naked and lying on a bed with some guy between his legs. I couldn't see anything, but it was fucking obvious the blond was naked. Both of them were.

"Jesus!" I moaned. I was hard. I was nearly to the point of blasting off. I was in heat.

"Rick, that guy's nearly old enough to be daddy," Ned said.

"No way!" When I looked over at my brother he was smirking big-time.

"He's at least thirty-five and Dad's only forty-three."

"You're shitting me." But Ned had me doubting.

"He was twenty-five when the series started in 2001. It ran five years. This is 2011." He was grinning like that damned Cheshire cat of Lewis Carroll's. "You do the math," he finished, making his delivery flippant.

Ned was such a bastard. Suddenly all I was seeing were age lines and wrinkles on Justin's sweet, angelic face.

Okay, I'd gotten my lust quota for the day, the week, and maybe even the month. I sat back and watched the episode play out.

I was addicted.

As the final credits on that disk started to run, I was off the sofa before Ned could even think of getting to his feet. I took the disk case from him and crossed to the DVD player with anticipation.

We'd watched the first season before dusk. I couldn't believe that Showtime had ended the season with the school bully bashing Justin over the head with a pipe. He'd better not die!

I had it as bad for QAF as Mom did for Days Of Our Lives which was into something like its twentieth year. I definitely understood the draw of soap operas.

I couldn't wait to get back on the sofa in front of the TV.