Intergalactic Porn Star

Author's note:

Intergalactic Porn Star is a work of gay male science fiction. Set in the distant future, it follows the adventures of a man who's recruited by an organisation that provides hard core gay porn to Earth's interstellar colonies.

It features staged scenes of extreme bondage, dominance and submission, and watersports between consenting adults who enjoy their work.

In addition, it also explores Ryan's personal relationships with his new coworkers.

Any reluctance or distress depicted is written as being deliberately portrayed by the actors as part of the scene. However, if you find this kind of content disturbing, I urge you to read something else. My Will and Jesse stories are much softer in nature. See my profile for details.

* * *

"Can I get you a drink?"

I glanced up to see an older guy leaning against the bar.

"Sure." I showed him the bottle in my hand. I never was one to turn down a free drink.

The man gave his order to the barman, then held his hand out for me to shake.

"Chester Greaves."

"Ryan," I said, thinking this was unusual. I wasn't against fucking older guys, but they generally didn't introduce themselves with a handshake.

Our drinks arrived, and he flicked the credits across the bar.

"How old are you, Ryan?"

I got that all the time. I looked my age, which for most guys, meant they were a lot older, and taking supplements.

"Twenty-eight. As of this fall."

"And all this is natural, if I'm not mistaken?" Chester waved a hand to indicate my physique.

I was in good shape, but if you looked twice, you could tell I wasn't on the usual cocktail of bio-improvement supplements most gay guys took to stay looking as young as possible.

My build and muscle tone were the result of my parents' attention to good genes, a lot of hours spent working out, and a healthy diet that complemented my healthy sex drive. Why no supplements? Pure ego. I was proud of my body and wanted other guys to notice it was natural.

"I want to show you something," said Chester—and that's where my potential hookup for the evening took a weird turn.

He flashed up a piece of brochureware in the air in front of me and I glanced sideways at him as it started to play, trying to figure out what his game was. Some kind of salesman?

A logo I knew well from hours watching porn flashed up, a purple and black logo that read 'IGPN'—which every gay man knew stood for 'Intergalactic Gay Porn Network'—known colloquially as 'the network'.

The logo faded, and a video started to play of a fit guy being sucked off by a skinny femme, while the camera angle rotated around them 360 degrees. They were both on supps, judging by the skinny guy's baby-face, and the size of the fit guy's muscles. Colony adult entertainment law insisted all performers were at least twenty years old, in an effort to prevent abuse of minors, so I knew there was no way in hell the skinny guy was as young as he looked.

A voiceover played as the video moved on to show a 3D model of the colonies.

"Operating from our state of the art facility on Luyten B, IGPN is the largest gay adult entertainment provider to the Earth colonies, exporting content to Earth, Proxima Centauri and Gliese. In addition, IGPN supplies over eighty percent of the adult offerings provided to clients by the interstellar transit market, with over four billion hours of content consumed per Earth year. Catering to even the most niche demands, IGPN is proud to be have been recently voted 'The Only Gay Adult Entertainment Provider You Need', by 'BoundD' magazine."

The video cut to a virtual tour through the network's facilities, which seemed to be set in the middle of a tropical jungle. It showed off the fancy living quarters, top quality chef-prepared meals, then a montage of young, fit men in tight shorts working out in a gym, wearing tiny speedos as they swum laps and played water polo, played shirtless football, and coated in sweat as they wrestled on an IGPN branded mat.

"Our models are treated with the greatest respect, with yearly bonuses reaching into the tens of millions of credits for our top performers."

The video showed a bunch of guys, some who I'd wanked to on slow days, smiling into the camera, with their screen names and earnings displayed under their grinning faces.

"Enquire now and see if IGPN is the right FIT for you."

That was some top quality advertising copy right there.

The brochureware blinked out of existence and I looked Chester up and down, this silver-haired older guy, with a stomach soft from too many expensive meals. He clearly didn't take supplements either... unless he was actually in his hundreds.

"Why are you showing this to me?" I asked.

"Right now, we're looking for men like you who don't rely on chemical enhancement in order to look... well, frankly, extremely fuckable."

I took the compliment.

"The demand for natural bodies is an emerging market," he went on, "...and it pays exceptionally well."

Yeah, we all knew that, but not everyone wanted to fuck on camera where their parents might one day see their dick sliding up another guy's butt.

"Why the hell would I get into porn?" I asked.

"The same reason anyone does. More money than you'll ever earn anywhere else."

I shrugged and drained my drink. "I earn just fine."

I didn't, but that wasn't the point. Besides, there was no way I was doing whatever the porn stars earning 'tens of millions' of credits were willing to do. I knew the drill. Most of the performers in the industry earned ten percent between them what one top performer earned in a year.

Chester flicked a number up in front of my eyes. It was an exact number, one I'd committed to heart. The current cost of a ticket to Gliese. Everyone I knew, everyone my age, dreamed of somehow making it to Gliese... well, specifically Gliese 832C. It was the ultimate destination for people my age, right at the edge of the colonies, not subject to standard Earth law.

Five times the size of Earth, it was tilted on its axis and tidally locked, so that half of it lay in perpetual darkness, and half of it was perpetually light. Temperatures fluctuated wildly between the two sides, with the borderland between the two around the same as a balmy day in Manitoba. One of the features of Gliese 832 was the Border Strip—a notorious equatorial habitat that existed in perpetual sunset. You can imagine the views.

Problem was, Gliese 832 was over sixteen

light

years away, and on a cheap cryo transit, of the kind I could afford, that was forty-four Earth years in space, taken in four alternating hibernation shifts. Biologically, I'd be nearly fifty by the time I got there, and the world would have moved on. And while fifty was only a quarter of my life down, and supplements were readily available, something about all that time locked on a ship, bored out of my brain, didn't appeal.

I'd decided a couple of years ago to give up on seeing Gliese while I was young, and work on saving up to migrate to the next closest colony planet as soon as I could, hoping to only lose five bio years off my life. But with the money Chester was offering, there was another way. The most expensive way. Hopgates.

A hopgate could get you there with no aging, no cryo shifts. In fact,

no

time lost, meaning you'd arrive on the planet as advertised.

"Of course, if you don't want the money..."

I put a hand on his arm. "Wait, wait, hold up. You've got my attention. What

exactly

would I have to do to make that kind of cash?"

He knew he had me. I could see the satisfaction in his eyes.

"To earn that particular sum of money, you'd need to do everything asked of you by IGPN for two Earth years."

"Like what?"

He sent me another piece of brochureware divided into two coloured panels, one red, one blue. On the left side was a red panel stamped with the initials 'DT'. On the right side was a blue panel labelled with the initials 'WB'.

"It's all in there."

I waved my hand at the blue panel, but nothing happened. I waved it at the red panel and a bunch of legalise flashed up in front of my face.

"Make sure you read it all. Sign the waiver and the attached contract and return it to me by six-thirty a.m. tomorrow morning. Transit leaves for the Luyton hopgate at seven a.m."

They'd even hop me to Luyton. That trip was worth over a million credits in itself.

I scrolled down far enough to see the amount he was offering was already written in. The number was there, all those zeroes. The exact cost of taking a hop transit from Earth to Gliese. There was also a mention of opportunities to earn bonuses, which I made a mental note to check out later. It'd be good to have spending money when I arrived.

"You need to have this signed and be at the transit port at seven a.m," he said. "One minute later and the doors will be sealed."

"Okay."

"You can't be late, Ryan," he said.

"Okay, I get it."

Satisfied, he left the bar. And at 6.49am the next morning, I joined the Intergalactic Gay Porn Network.

*

I didn't read the terms and conditions. I decided if I did, I'd just overthink it. All I needed to know was that I was going to have to have sex on camera for money, and the only part of that I hadn't done before was get paid.

Chester met me as I stepped out of the transit.

"All ready?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Did you read the terms and conditions?"

"Yeah."

He sighed. "Let me just reiterate, in case you missed they key clauses, that when you join the network, you agree to do everything asked of you, some of which may not be to your personal taste. We'll never ask you to do anything that compromises your safety, but we will test your limits."

"Okay." I wished he'd stop talking.

"Before you go on camera, you'll be trained across all the many disciplines we offer. I will be your trainer and master."

That sounded like some kind of dominance/submission thing, but I wasn't too bothered. I knew the porn industry loved that kind of thing.

"If you don't obey instructions, you give us the right to punish you. Footage, or live feeds of this punishment, is offered to our clients as a product."

"Okay. But at the end of two Earth years I'll get paid three million and ninety-four credits?"

"Yes. Or if you prefer, you can adjust the terms to whatever the cost of a ticket from Luyton to Gliese is two years from now, to counteract the effects of inflation."

That was a good point. A ten percent adjustment on today's price would put the ticket out of my range for at least another three years, if not permanently.

"If you choose financial remuneration, on the day you arrive on Luyton, the funds will be placed into a trust account and held for you until your final day with us. Any bonuses you earn will be added to that account. However, as stated in the contract, should you choose to leave part-way through your term, you will not receive your full payment, or in fact any payment, until after the first year, where you will receive a pro-rated payment less the cost of transporting, feeding, housing and training you."

"Will you hop me back to Earth?"

"No. If you leave part-way through the contract term, you'll have to make your own way back. Reason being, we need to cover our costs, and we won't see a profit on your work until at least the second year."

That wasn't great. It meant that if I backed out, I'd have to spend all my savings, and waste years of my life getting back to Earth. I didn't have enough cash to go anywhere else. Or, I'd have to stay on Luyton, which was nothing but a giant industrial complex. I supposed I could get a job maintaining the equipment in the mineral mines and fuck other maintenance engineers for the rest of my life.

Or, just do whatever the fuck they wanted me to do.

"If you choose your remuneration in the form of a ticket to Gliese, an open-ended, refundable ticket from Luyton via the closest hopgate, will be reserved in your name."

That was an exceptionally good deal. Just the thought of being on Gliese by the age of thirty... I wasn't going to say no.

"I must ask you once again," he said, "do you understand and agree to the terms and conditions of your contract as stated, and as I've explained them?"

He flashed up the permission form again, with the amended detail of the ticket to Gliese, and I tagged to accept it. "We're good."

He shook my hand with a pleased smile. "Welcome aboard, Ryan."

Half an hour later I was strapped into a seat on the hop transit, as we started the trip out to the gate.

*

I woke with a hell of a hop-hangover. Chester let me out of the pod and led me to the ground transit, where he handed me a white pill and a bottle of water.

"What's this?" I wasn't fond of taking drugs of any kind.

"A sedative. It's a long ride out to the campus, and you'll feel better when you wake. It'll give your body a chance to acclimatise to the new gravity while you're unconscious. We have gravity shifters, but there is still a small difference. You'll feel fractionally lighter, and initially you may find this disorienting."

"Okay." I took the pill.

"Now, keep in mind, the moment you arrive, you'll be on camera. We don't sell all the footage we gather, but any of it

could

potentially be used, either to promote IGPN, or as teasers on another piece of content. If at any point you want to break the agreement, simply let me know, and I'll arrange for you to be transited back to the port."

"Okay." I was already starting to feel sleepy.

What Chester wasn't saying, was that taking the sedative was also a way to make sure I didn't know how to get to the facility. IGPN got a lot of hate from the anti-porn lobby, so the location was kept secret. Even from its performers.

*

I woke with a thick head, to find myself lying naked on my back on a carpeted floor.

Chester leaned over me. "Good, you're awake. You're just in time to watch one of our top earners in action."

He nodded towards whatever lay behind me, and I managed to get up on my hands and knees, and turned to find myself face to face with a glass wall. We seemed to be in a viewing box, overlooking what looked like a photography studio. The walls and floor were painted white, and on a raised platform in the middle of the room, a guy who looked as if he was in his late teens or early twenties, was shackled on his hands and knees.

Watching, I felt some empathy for the guy's vulnerable position, and had to remind myself he was getting paid megabucks to be here. But either he was having a bad day, or he was really unhappy about what was about to happen to him, as he hung his head, and I could see his body jerking as he sobbed.

"Is he alright?" I asked.

"His audience wants to see him cry, so he cries. Our performers are some of the best in the colonies. Every performance

must

be convincing."

I guessed the audience for this kind of content liked a bit of simulated misery, and this guy was clearly good at delivering it.

Manacles attached his wrists and ankles to a raised part of the floor, and while from this angle it was hard to see, it looked as if he had chains running from rings through each of his nipples, and from a ring piercing the tip of his cock, back to metal rings set into the concrete platform. Behind him, pushed back against the wall, were half a dozen white leather armchairs.

A buzzer sounded, and a green light flashed high up on the wall. As it did, a parade of good-looking black guys entered the room. So, that was the kink. Skinny little white guy pummelled by big black cocks. Seemed some clichés never died.

Every single one of the guys who walked into the room was fit and athletic and hung like a horse. Their skin was oiled, and gleamed under the lights, emphasising their six-packs and massive pecs, and their tight, muscular glutes, as they surrounded the helpless captive.

Each of the men had their names inked across their left pec, and each wore a different coloured band around their wrist. As they surrounded the younger guy, he looked at them with fear on his face.

"What's he being punished for?" I asked Chester.

"He decided he was too tired to let another performer use his mouth."

"Huh."

"Watch closely," Chester told me. "And understand that this will happen to you if you refuse to do as you're asked."

I barely took in what he was saying as my attention was drawn back towards the glass by a speaker humming to life that projected sound from the room below.

At the same time, close-ups of the kid's face and different angles of his body appeared on three sixty-inch screens set high up on the wall. His hair fell across his face, hiding his eyes, but I could see tears dripping from his chin. A camera angle from above zoomed in to show the tattoo scrawled across his lower back, just above his ass, read 'Ashley'.

Why would he refuse to suck someone off if he knew this would happen? I wondered, as I watched the six muscular black guys walk around him, eyeing him up, laughing among themselves and slapping the kid's ass, making him jump as if he was terrified.

A fourth screen flashed up that showed a set of infographics, labelled things like 'Active watchers', 'Revenue', and 'Upvotes'.

A label appeared at the bottom of each of the other three screens which read

'Watch Ashley take six BBCs, as he gets punished for his insolence by Jamal, Des, Curtis, Simone, Kav and Martin'.

In the middle of the infographics screen, a countdown started.

3... 2... 1...

The word 'LIVE' blinked twice, then moved up to the right-hand corner of the screen.

The buzzer sounded, and one of the black guys, whose tattoo read 'Kav', stepped up to the kid, holding the base of what had to be a good nine to ten inches of solid meat.

He waved it in front of the kid's face. "Gonna suck me now, boy?"

Ashley nodded without looking up.

"Then get up on my dick, bitch."

Kav grabbed a fistful of the captive guy's hair and wrenched his head back, then started to feed him his dick.

I winced, watching that thick cock invade the kid's throat, filling every inch of space he had to offer. On the screens, I could see Ashley's nostrils flaring as he struggled to breathe, while he looked up at Kav with big, scared eyes.

"Yeah, that's it, take it alllll down that bitch throat of yours."

I couldn't look away as Kav's meat slid further into Ashley's gullet, half expecting the kid to retch or protest. Instead, he seemed to be concentrating on making space, as Kav sheathed every inch of his massive cock in the kid's throat.

"There, is that so hard?" Kav asked, and the others laughed.

"Bitch never gonna' turn us down again!" said one a guy whose tattoo read 'Martin', and Kav high-fived him.

"Now, you know what's gonna happen boy?" Kav said to Ashley.

The kid couldn't move his head with his throat impaled like that, but the hidden cameras caught his answer in his eyes.

"We're gonna fuck that ass haaaard," Martin clarified, in case Ashley wasn't sure.

A guy with a meat rod the size of a policeman's baton stepped up behind Ashley. His tattoo read 'Simone'. He fondled the kid's ass with one hand as he lathered lube up and down his club with the other, running his hand over the thick, fleshy head with a sticky sound.

"You ready for this, bitch?" He grinned as he ran his cock up and down the crack of the boy's ass.

Ashley whimpered, and tears ran down his face as Simone's thick cock pressed against his entrance and slowly breached him. The kid let out a groan that turned into a hoarse scream, as the man's massive cock was fed into his skinny ass.

"Relax, bitch, or you'll be inside out by the time I'm done!"

Ashley moaned and wept as Simone slapped his ass, leaving red handprints on his pale skin, while never pausing his steady slide deep into the boy's guts.