When There Is Nothing Left

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Edited by: Tangent Joker

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"Will it hurt?"

Antonio tilted his head to look up into Parker's brown eyes. His lover was sporting a good amount of dark blonde scruff on his otherwise boyish face. It wasn't in honor of this month being November but rather because they couldn't afford razors and shaving cream. It was a luxury that did not take priority over the already scarce food or the all-inclusive rent which was set at $985.00 a month. He was enjoying the longer hair, though, and even thought the more bleached hair having grown out was attractive. Antonio was just fearful of pain. He knew Parker wouldn't even be asking if they weren't desperate.

Parker wanted to lie and tell Antonio everything would be alright. He wanted to be on this bus heading to a fun date like they used to in high school. Before they both got into massive amounts of student debt, before the grants ran dry and before they had to break their backs to earn $5.85 an hour forty hours a week.

Parker would have settled with being able to tell his lover that he would do it by himself. Last month they had been somewhat ok. They still had some grant money and life savings left. He, of course, assumed that finding a better or second job would be relatively easy. Last month Parker had donated plasma on his own, twice a week every week like clockwork. He told Antonio that he felt good about giving and hell if it helped pay the bills then it was a win-win. They were almost halfway through with their junior year, which meant the struggles would be temporary if they were able to find jobs right out of college. Parker had worked and saved while he waited for Antonio to finish High School. He had wanted to make sure they would have enough to not have to work through school and had wanted to go at the same time as his lover.

The first time he gave plasma, he had taken the bus to the collection center on his own. From what he found on the internet, this place was supposed to be clean. It was the one that currently paid the most. He had wanted to ask a real live person the same question Antonio was asking him now. "Would it hurt?" The website had two females of different races smiling on the homepage. They had little quotes about how rewarding giving plasma was. It hadn't said anything about the pain, or the state of desperation that the donor was likely in. It hadn't mentioned the humiliation at selling your body, or the encompassing chill you felt afterwards. He had only given up some of his plasma and yet it had left him with a feeling of emptiness.

Parker walked off the bus alone and afraid. He wasn't that familiar with the city yet. Charlotte wasn't a huge city but he hadn't grown up in the area. Of course he had been to the city, but it wasn't the same as living in it. When you visited the city, you went to the metropolitan areas like the South Park mall. You might go to a museum. You certainly didn't walk from the bus stop to sell part of your body to pay bills.

Charlotte had never felt like a dangerous place before. When he was alone, and heading to the plasma collection center, Parker was suddenly very aware of his smaller size. Being 5'5" had never been a problem, but alone in the bad part of the city it made him easy prey. He could easily have been confused with a lost high schooler instead of the twenty-three year old that he was. It was unnerving to think how vulnerable he likely looked to the city's predators.

The walk from the bus stop to the collecttion center had seemed to take years even though it was only a few blocks away. The dilapidated building didn't look the same way as it did in the photo on the website. That building had looked clean and the people all looked happy. It made him think it would be the same experience as giving blood in high school. Parker soon realized that was very wrong.

The floors of the building were dirty and had dust bunnies and hair in clumps congregating in the corners. The florescent lights flickered in some parts and were completely out in others. He felt almost intoxicated by the smell of medical grade cleaners.

He signed his name to be examined and tested and looked at the rows of blue chairs. He couldn't help but to think that the chairs in the bus stop had been nicer. He was silent and didn't realize he was shaking a little as he sat next to a man who definitely wasn't smiling like the clean females in the picture.

He watched the guy rocking in his chair, grabbing his pants and then letting them go. He was muttering something under his breath and Parker tried not to pay attention. He didn't want to know what the fidgeting man was saying. Of course as he sat there and watched people come and go, the words of the person eventually reached his ears.

"They don't think I can do it. Yeah um they don't think I can but um... Yeah I got a knife. Yeah I'll kill 'em. I can do it. They don't think I can but I can yeah. Ummm I can.. yeah."

Parker felt sick to his stomach. He should have brought a book or headphones or something. October weather in Charlotte was unpredictable and so Parker hadn't worn a jacket. He sat next to the muttering man shivering. Why was this place so cold?

They weighed him, asked about his lip piercing and asked if he had any others. Parker shook his head no and then was asked to lie back. It didn't hurt that bad. It was no more than giving blood. He squeezed the little blue ball and thought of Antonio. He wanted to be anywhere but in that room. He was dazed and his arm felt sore.

He was selling a piece of himself. The physical pain wasn't bad. It was the thought of how low he had fallen. They couldn't ask his grandmother for money. It was money she didn't have and would likely have been distraught that she couldn't get. Parker's grandmother was the only family he and Antonio had.

Parker laced his fingers between Antonio's. He kissed his lover's tan fingertips and realized his jeans were needing to be pulled up more often this week.

"It's just until we get on our feet. When we graduate, it will all be worth it and in the meantime we keep looking for better jobs." He ran his fingers through Antonio's silky black hair and looked into his too trusting doe brown eyes. If the city had made Parker look small, it would have swallowed his smaller, less self assured lover, Antonio.

Antonio pressed his body against Parker's side, knowing that as long as Parker was with him nothing all that bad would ever happen. The bus stopped and Parker collected their papers. He stepped out into the chilled city air and was thankful Parker had made him wear a jacket. Parker was always right. When Antonio had been sixteen he had fallen for the bad boy senior.

Parker had been his first relationship, though Antonio had always known he was gay. Everyone had insisted that Parker would only break his heart, but Antonio had known better. He had seen the gentleness in Parker's eyes and felt the love early in the relationship. Maybe he had been naïve in thinking, after three months, they would last forever. Antonio had insisted on telling his parents because he knew Parker was the one. Parker had argued and even threatened to leave Antonio if he told. Parker had been so sure Antonio's parents wouldn't understand and Parker was always right.

Antonio's parents were very conservative, and already had a problem with the fact that their son didn't exhibit the right machismo. Being gay was just the last disappointment. They had given him ten minutes to pack and leave their lives forever. Parker remembered holding Antonio as he cried. He remembered the first birthday his parents missed and first Christmas. Antonio had assumed it would all blow over. They were his parents. They had to love him. Thankfully, he wasn't waiting by the phone for a call that would never come anymore. Antonio had accepted that that part of his life was over. He still kept childhood photos and kept up with Mexican culture when he could. His Spanish was leaving him due to lack of use but he worked at it when he could.

The walk to the dreaded building felt shorter this time. He wasn't sure if it was because he had been rushing them to get Antonio out of the city and away from the dangerous people or because he had been walking the same speed but he didn't want to reach his destination. His heart hammered in his chest knowing what he was walking into. No matter how much Parker had prepared for today, he still couldn't make himself be alright with it. It was the same feeling he got every time he watched Bambi's mother walk out into the field before she was shot by hunters. It ended the way he thought but he hated the ending despite its predictability. Antonio's innocence being taken; it was something he couldn't take back. Parker rounded the last corner and looked at the building, happy it didn't look as dirty as he remembered. It had only taken ten minutes to get here from their apartment. Parker wished it had taken hours.

"I love you." It was all he could think to say to his lover. He knew Antonio was afraid of the pain, and Parker hated himself for having to ask him to do this.

He hadn't answered Antonio's question and knew his lover was guessing that meant it would be painful. He shifted the file with their documents to his left hand and tucked their water bottle under his arm. The door took some effort to open, as though even the building knew his innocent Antonio shouldn't be selling himself. The building was still as cold inside as Parker had remembered. He sat Antonio down and kissed him, making sure his earphones were in. He had been paranoid about Antonio thinking too much about where he was or, worse, hearing another unstable person talking. Parker briefly wondered if the man had been allowed to donate or if he had stayed in that chair all day just rocking.

He waited for Antonio to turn on the music and smiled hearing the familiar Reggaeton pulsing rhythm came from the headphones. He signed them in and knew they would be called in separately. He cradled Antonio against his body and played with his hair. A clean looking man in a suit kept staring at them. His lover was called first and he tapped Antonio.

"I'll be right here when I get done. Ok? Just put your headphones back in and wait for me. You do what they tell you with the saline and remember the people you are helping." He gave Antonio a kiss "It doesn't hurt, it just makes you feel cold." He offered a weak smile and watched his lover walk into the exam room. He would have to go through the same question process that Parker got to skip this time.

He glared at the man in the suit and shivered, pulling his jacket closer to his body.

~*~*~*~

Hayden sat in his tight jeans and yellow Pokemon T-shirt smiling at the camera. He was happy to be here. There was nothing else in the world that he would want to do to make a living.

"Tell us your name," Jason Somones, the overweight cameraman, instructed. You would think with all the naked boys he filmed, he would eventually be desensitized to them. This boy, though, was special. He looked like every teenage wet dream. He could have easily been on the cover of one of those teeny bopper magazines. He couldn't help himself. Hayden was beautiful and he openly admired the newest star. If he ended up being more than just a pretty face, he would go far.

His dark black hair had that boyish bowl cut that seemed to be coming back in style and his dark brown eyes reminded you of a naive St. Bernard puppy. Yeah, this kid would certainly make money in twink porn. He would probably have a huge following even if all he did was sit there. The innocent face and his nubile body would get him far in the industry.

Jason was already comparing him to the stars of the day that he could spoof. The first one that came to mind was that awful High School Musical thing that seemed to have been made popular overnight. He could pass for that Effron guy, or he could go the other way and spoof the My Chemical Romance singer. He looked innocent and young enough to be considered barely legal, and yet the way he was grinning and wiggling made him likeable to the not so perverted as well. Whoever had found this guy had done well. He was perfect.

"My name is Tar." He smiled and squirmed on the bed, enjoying the attention no matter from where he got it. His clothes felt like a straightjacket. He wanted to be the center of attention; to know that hundreds of thousands of men were drooling over him and cumming just for him. The more people he could captivate, the more power he had.

Jason glanced over at his bio card and noticed Hayden's porn name would be Tar. How original. His last name was a thing so, therefore, made a good porn name. A lot of porn stars, or their managers, had employed that trick for coming up with a stage name.

It was pretty common in the industry to pick a name that lacked creativity. If your first name or last name made one think of something, that ended up being your name. Or they would pick a star that you resembled or even a Disney character. He had seen a boy go by "Snow White" before. Sometimes they weren't that cheesy. A star could just pick a real sounding name that wasn't their name and go by that. He almost thought to suggest something different, but "Tar" has said his name with such eagerness that he didn't have the heart to tell the kid it was stupid.

"How old are you, sweetheart?" Jason asked, knowing his voice would likely be edited out. He hoped it would, anyway, since he detected a lustful quiver in his voice. If Wells thought he was being unprofessional, especially with this beautiful new exclusive, he would be fired for sure.

"Last week was my 18th birthday." Tar bit his lip, trying to rein in some of his enthusiasm. He didn't consider that going by his last name was unoriginal. He wanted to be as real as possible and some of his dad's friends had called him that. It just fit for him. He was already used to responding to his surname.

"So, you have never been filmed before?" The cameraman asked. His cock was already swelling rapidly in his pants, making sitting uncomfortable. He knew that the adorable twink would soon be shedding his clothing and he couldn't wait to see what was underneath. God damned Wells's rule about being professional. He wasn't permitted to touch the stars. He could only look.

Tar paused and considered telling the truth. He had been told to sell it; that his year contract with this company hinged on his ability to sell it. The viewers wanted innocence and kink and it was up to Tar to find the perfect balance. He was allowed to reveal his secret fetish for BDSM but telling the camera crew the truth about his filming career wouldn't go over well.

No one watching porn wanted to think about how the over-sexed teen got into porn in the first place. They didn't want to hear about his broken childhood or the fact that he had been making tapes like this since he was seven. No, they just wanted to think that he was pure as the driven snow and just had a healthy curiosity for kinky sex. Tar was smart enough to know what lies to tell to make himself more desirable.

"No, I've never done anything like this before." He averted his flirtatious gaze, as though he were a bit shy. He needed to sell the good boy gone bad image that would sell memberships and exclusive DVDs.

The producer could have asked him to pull off being a fluffy pink unicorn and Tar would have tried his best. He wanted to be in porn. Ever since he had discovered porn, when he was thirteen, he had wanted to be in porn.

He had, of course, researched and researched all the different companies and had picked The Twink Next Door because they had a good array of side sites that he could film with. He had seen a few of the "models," as they were called for this site, and a few had caught his attention. Not to mention this site seemed to want him the most. They had agreed to fly him all the way from New Jersey and agreed to put him up in a hotel until his checks from the scenes added up enough to get him an apartment. Tar already felt at home even though he had only been in the south for a few days.

Tar had agreed to be an exclusive for the parent film company for a year. For an entire year, the company would own him. They would have him tested and fucked anyway that they thought would sell films. If they wanted him to play a cowboy, he would have to. If they said he had to take four men at once, then he would take four at once. If they said to pierce this, or tattoo that, then he would. Tar was their sex doll to play with and for the most part he was happy with that.

He was a little put off by being tied down to one type of porn and one set of filmers but the money was good and they promised him he would get plenty of variety.

"Can you take your shirt off for me, sweetheart, and let us see your adorable body?" The cameraman asked. He only hoped that the pale skin would be unmarred by tattoos or hair. The only piercing listed was the tongue stud and under tattoos was the word none. The cameraman knew from experience that sometimes the forms were outdated and he could only hope the feisty little thing was as innocent looking out of his clothing as he was in them.

Tar, of course, did not disappoint. The smile on his face brightened and the Pikachu shirt came off. He ran his hands down his pale stomach which was hairless and void of any piercings or tattoos. He looked every bit as innocent as he was pretending to be. He gave a soft kitten like moan as he played with his nipples, pinching them so they would peak. Tar sucked in a breath of air, enjoying finally being able to put on a show. This was what he was good at and what had come for. He was born to be in porn.

He looked his body over some more, lowering his eyes more and then looked back at the camera again giving another nervous laugh. He was acting as though he didn't know the effect he was having on the videographer.

The rotund male was panting as he watched the wanton display. He couldn't hold back any longer. He needed to see more.

"Now the pants, and tell us what sort of naughty kinks you have as you are doing it. Tell us about your cock before we see it." Tar's ego swelled. He could now clearly see the outline of the cameraman's cock. It meant he was attractive, and wanted Now, it even meant a pay check and independence.

"Yes, sir." Tar looked at the camera, holding eye contact for a moment and licking his lower lip so that his tongue stud was visible. He was teasing his viewer, wanting them to picture his lips and tongue on more sinful body parts. He knew what the viewers wanted to see, even if they didn't know themselves.

Tar liked to play with himself. Of course, being watched while doing something that was supposed to be kept private was also a turn on. Not that orgasms had really ever been a private thing. He hadn't cum since this morning and was now in a desperate state of needing release.

"I guess I'm kinda average sized," he said, pulling out his already hard member. He gave it a few teasing strokes, thumbing his sensitive tip. For his size, he was definitely not considered average. Tar was a pretty small guy and, with a healthy almost eight inch cock, he was large for his size but average in the porn world and he knew that. He wouldn't get attention for having the best dick or even because he was the perfect looking twink. Tar knew the amount of attention he would get, and the amount of job security he would have, would depend on his ability to turn people on. He had to, as Steven Wells put it, sell it.

He leaned back on the bed, thinking how cliché it was to have an almost childlike bedspread. The bed smelled of sex and had likely been used in many different sessions. It was, after all, in the house of the site's owner. He briefly wondered if he would do anything a little more entertaining in this bed in the future. The headboard would be the perfect place to tie his wrists. Tar had recognized the bed from a few of the movies he had watched and wondered how many people's cum he was now rolling in.