LOGIN
Laughter rang in the dimly lit room. The smell of smoke permeated the air, and the clinking of glasses mixed with drunkenness. Low whimpers, moans, and erratic laughter could be heard distinctly in the room.
At the center were several young men with tender skin and delicate faces whining their butt and swaying their waists to the low song in the room. Some had tears in their eyes, showing how humiliating the situation was to them while some were smiling, having been used to the whole thing. "You come here. Suck me." This sort of command wasn't rare in the room, and at this time, the dancing young men would walk over to the nobly dressed men in the room and kneel in front of them. While their clear eyes remained fixed on the men, their fingers would work skillfully, removing the cottons obstructing them from capturing the half-erect dick of the men. They would open their eyes and hold the penis in their mouth, sucking with relish while making wet sounds to satisfy the tyrants. These lowly men were... artists. Brewster stared at these young, handsome men, and his eyes reddened. Riding a man on the seat beside him was the actor he used to idolize when he was in junior high. Never in his wildest dream would he have expected the handsome, icy-faced actor to be a kept boy of a wealthy old man. The man didn't even have an ounce of respect for him! 'However, is my situation any better?' Brewster laughed bitterly as he thought. Wrapped around his waist was a strong arm of a man. His back was pressed against a hard chest, and even with his nervousness, he could hear the man's steady heartbeat. Brewster's body was taut. He stared ahead, his mind filled with different thoughts as sadness overcame him. He hated the environment. He wished he could escape, but when he remembered the contract details and many other things holding him down, he could only grit his teeth and lower his head, not wanting to see the event before him anymore. "Your cup is still filled." A cold whisper reached Brewster's ear, and his eyelids trembled. The voice was cold, detached, and scary. It made Brewster instinctively want to run away, but the man tightened his grip on Brewster's waist until he was forced to stay by the pain. "I... I will." Brewster mumbled, slowly stretching his fingers toward the table to pick up the red wine. He had left the wine untouched for two reasons. He was scared, and he wondered if the wine had been laced with anything that could harm him. Being a bottom feeder with no money and no popularity, he was like an ant compared to the people in this room. Any of them could kill him here without suffering any consequence, and Brewster was scared. He stared at the drink for a moment before slowly bringing it toward his lips, trying to sip from it... "Do you want to join them?" Brewster heard the cold question again, and his eyes widened. "Th... Them...?" He stuttered. He wasn't asking a question. He was only genuinely shocked. He quickly drank the whole contents of the cup in one swig and turned his slightly flushed face to the man behind him. He looked at the man's perfect but extremely cold face, and his heart trembled. He held the man's collar and shook his head slightly while holding back his tears. "I don't want to." His voice was hoarse, but it showed his determination. He was only 19. So young and so innocent, but the world never considered age. Moreover, he sold his body first... Brewster knew the man could decide his fate, but he truly didn't want to strip naked before the lecherous men in the room and be forced to act depraved... He hated it. The man chuckled. He relaxed his hold on Brewster and slowly stood up. He dropped the cup he was holding on the table and turned to leave. "Goodnight." He casually said to the wealthy men in the room and walked away. Brewster stared at his retreating back and pursed his lips. Without saying a word, he quickly stood up and followed the man, leaving behind the stench of the irritating room. "Go wash up." The man ordered. Brewster nodded. He wasn't interested in admiring the suite either. He knew he was here for a transaction, and he had no other choice at the moment. He walked briskly toward the bathroom and had a quick bath before stepping out with a bathrobe covering his body. He stared at the man sitting in bed, his eyes lowered, with his phone in hand while the other hand removed his clothes. "Get in bed." The man's order broke the silence in the room and disrupted Brewster's thought. But the man didn’t raise his head from his phone. 'Of course, I'm worth nothing to him.' Brewster thought to himself as he arranged his bathrobe properly. He silently walked toward the bed and lay on it. Brewster was tall, about 186cm, and he had a mature body with a thin waist and slightly muscular arms, but compared to the over 193cm man with a fully developed body and athletic frame before him, he seemed lacking. Brewster stared at the man, swallowing with difficulty as he watched the man approach him. His leg was grabbed by the man, and he was dragged down. The man rubbed his calf up, exposing Brewster's long and beautiful legs. The man's touch made Brewster's body tremble, and an unfamiliar feeling crept up in his heart. He stared blankly, trying to stop the unfamiliar feeling in his chest. He felt the man's hand trailing around his thigh, and the man's closeness pressured him. He closed his eyes, hoping to block out his senses as he felt the man remove his shorts, and he knew his dick had been exposed to him. He bit his lower lip and closed his eyes tightly. He was trembling, he was scared and he knew it. The sudden pain of a finger flicking his penis tore a yelp out of his throat. He quickly covered his mouth, his body trembling even more as shame and fear clouded his heart. 'Is this worth it?' He wondered, his chest stuffy. The man parted his legs. He wasn't saying anything, but his movement didn't cease either. He soon pressed a hand toward the wrinkled flesh behind Brewster and rubbed his thumb around it. The sensation made Brewster gasp. He instinctively wanted to escape again, but a finger entered him, and a painful groan escaped his throat. The unfamiliar feeling of a foreign object in his back hole made him confused for a moment, and he frowned. His heart raced faster. The finger moved inside him, circling inside him and then pulling out again. Soon, he felt something cold rubbing around his hole, and two fingers entered directly. He arched his back and bit his lower lip harder to suppress the strange feeling and the slight pain that followed. The two fingers moved faster inside him. They moved in and out, and silence ensued in the room aside from the slight gasp that escaped Brewster's throat. Brewster closed his eyes again, trying to stop the low gasp and adjust himself to the foreign objects in his body. However, the fingers soon left him, and something warm pressed on his entrance. His eyes widened. He knew what that was, and his heart trembled. He held his breath as the man entered him roughly, and a cry escaped his throat. He gripped the bedsheets, holding them so tight he felt his nails were broken, but that didn't stop the pain coming from his private area. The man moved. His movement wasn't in any way gentle, and with every thrust, he would grunt and increase his movement. Brewster's body shook with each movement, and even though the pain was no longer evident, his heart felt increasingly heavier, and his eyes grew misty. "Smile. Beg for more." The man grunted and ordered. Brewster's body stiffened. His eyes darted to the man above him, and he pursed his lips. "Deaf, huh?" The words hadn't landed when the man thrust deeper into Brewster. His invasion was ruthless. Brewster cried out. He shook his head desperately as he forced out a smile. "Fuck... me... ahhh!" The man thrust deeper once more. Brewster felt like he was going to lose his life. His body ached terribly. He was tired, but the man continued moving. He had changed his position various times, and Brewster felt like he was going to collapse. He gently closed his eyes, feeling too exhausted to keep them open as tears rolled down his cheeks. "I hate this." He sobbed quietly.Brewster's character's name was Jone in the drama...He had a stick in his hand that he continuously parted the forest with as he walked aimlessly. His tone had turned hoarse from shouting, and tears streaked his face. His steps faltered with each movement, but he held on. He looked extremely pitiful. His delicately handsome face, stained with tears at the moment, made anyone who looked at him pretty sad for him, and they wanted to protect him. Jim felt his heart aching for his little friend. He rubbed his forehead, and even though he kept telling himself that Brewster wasn't truly crying, seeing Brewster's tears still made him sad. He watched from the side, feeling uncomfortable. But he wasn't the only one. Some of the stars were also staring. Brewster finally could no longer take it, and he slipped. Unable to support his weight anymore, he fell on the ground and let out a painful groan. His nose reddened as he looked at his bruised hands, and more tears rolled down his face.
Jim helped Brewster arrange his things in the hotel room that was assigned to him. The room was big. It was more than enough for two people to stay, and at the center of the room was a king-sized bed. "You should rest for today. It will be tiring from tomorrow." Jim said to Brewster as he prepared to leave. As the assistant and agent, he couldn't stay in the hotel with the stars and could only find somewhere else to stay. He had known this, and Brewster also couldn't stop him as he had explained everything to him earlier. Brewster, though reluctant, still nodded with a smile. "Then, I will see brother Jimmy tomorrow." He said. Jim nodded. If possible, he wouldn't want to leave Brewster with the crew either. The fact that the artists already looked at him with coldness earlier increased the anxiousness in his heart. Brewster was too young, and he might not be able to endure the pressure of those artists. But Jim knew he had no choice. He couldn't stay, and Brewster would have t
Jim and Brewster joined the crew that evening. As the only newcomer in the crew, Brewster felt intimidated when he saw the row of popular artists sitting in the hotel's private bar. "Hello, I'm Brewster." He had seen them during the script reading, and they should have known his name, but seeing them, Brewster felt like he had to say something again. So, he said with a smile. The artists all looked at him. The male lead, a young and handsome man in his early twenties, waved at Brewster with a small smile on his face. "Hello, I'm Alex. Nice to meet you, Brewster." He greeted. Brewster smiled back. He felt like the male lead wasn't arrogant, but remembering what Jim had told him earlier in the car about Artists knowing how to keep their real thoughts under a nice facade, he shook his head and sighed. The circle was truly messy. He couldn't even trust a smile...The other male lead also introduced himself a
The man sighed deeply. "You should know how horrible it is to annoy him. Even my father wouldn't want to help me then." He explained with distress. Jim's lips tightened. He clenched his fingers around his phone and angrily threw the man's hand away. "Then you are useless." He said and stood up from the bed. What was the essence of staying around when the man couldn't do anything to help?He would take the few times they did it as his loss and forget about the man. He picked up his shirt, ready to put it on. The man's eyes dimmed significantly. His jaw clenched, and his fingers flickered. If Jim had seen him, maybe he would have understood that the man was angry. However, the man soon hid his anger and stood up. He approached Jim and hugged him from behind. "I'm sorry." He whispered into Jim's ear. Jim tensed up. His eyes widened subtly as the man's breath hit his ear. 'He's sorry?' Jim felt like he heard wrong. Wasn't this the widely known Lucian, a playboy, who treated othe
The meeting went on for an hour, but to Brewster's dismay, he wasn't permitted to say a single word.The doctors all looked at him like he was a pitiful child and directed all the questions to his family doctor, who answered coherently.Brewster felt awkward. He stared silently as the old and middle-aged men discussed fervently, checking the reports and operating the screen.It was like his existence didn't matter to them, but every now and then, they would look at him with kind eyes.Maybe he looked too innocent to them?Brewster didn't know, but at least his heart was at peace.After he entered the room, he was nervous for a moment. He initially thought the doctors would all be the same age as his family's doctor, but who would have thought the youngest among them was already a middle-aged man.He realized how difficult it would be to converse with those men, but on second thought, he remembered A
Brewster sat with his mother and explained everything to her calmly. Even though he got no response and not even a glance from her, he was still optimistic and continued to talk to her. After a while, he checked his time and stood up. "Mum, I will be back. The doctors should be around by now." He said, bowed, and turned to leave. Brewster held the doorknob, about to turn it open, when he suddenly heard a cough from behind and he immediately stopped. "Are you happy?" The word rang in his ears. It was soft and almost like a whisper, but in a room where all he could hear was his heartbeat, the word sounded clearer than ever.Brewster felt his heart skip a beat. He turned around and found his mother staring at him with sadness in her eyes. Their eyes locked, and his mother slowly shook her head. "Son, are you living fine?" She asked softly, tears brewing at the corner of her eyes. Brewster's chest tightened, and his throat suddenly felt blocked. Tears formed in his eyes, but he co


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