Star Power
By: Giantguy
"Just go up to the door and knock. He's expecting you. No reason to be nervous. Just relax. Be cool. He's just a person. Just treat him like anybody else."
Travis was muttering to himself as he walked through the film set, making his way to the row of trailers. He was lucky to have this job, he reminded himself. It wasn't every 22 year old who got a job like this on his second day in L.A. Never mind that they told you it probably wouldn't last too long since everybody else quits or gets fired. Maybe it will be different for you.
He found the trailer, and knocked at the door. He heard nothing. After a few minutes went by, he knocked again. They told me he'd be here. Damn. Then he heard a raspy voice call out from inside.
"What the fuck do you WANT?"
Travis gulped. He faltered a little but leaned closer to the door, trying to raise his voice enough to be heard.
"Uh ... hi. They sent me over here ... from the studio office." There was a pause. Travis felt himself starting to sweat. "I'm, uh, I'm your new assistant."
There was another silence. Then the voice said, "Well, then come the fuck on in."
"Sir ... it's locked. The door is locked."
After another minute or two, there was a rattling on the other side, and the trailer door swung open. "Okay, so now it's unlocked, so come the fuck on in,"
Travis stared up into the face of Ben Affleck. After a second, he reminded himself not to be a star-struck idiot, and followed him into the darkened trailer.
That morning, he'd shown up for his temp job as usual. He was a couple of minutes late, and when he got called into the one of the VP's offices, he was sure he was going to be fired. He'd only lucked into the job in the first place because a friend of his got him in, and now he was going to be canned. Might as well go back to Omaha.
"Listen, Randy,"
"Travis."
"Your name is really Randy Travis? You're going to have to change that, kid."
"No, it's TRAVIS."
"Fine, go by your last name, I don't give a flying fuck. Anyway, I need you for a different job. You're just a last minute fill-in while we look for somebody else, so don't get attached to it."
"What is it?"
"It's easy, you're just being somebody's personal assistant. Run get him a coffee, errands, messages, answer his phone, whatever he goddamn tells you to do. They're shooting at the studio now, just get your ass over there fast as you can."
"Who am I working for?"
"Like it makes a difference, what, you're gonna say No?"
"No, no, I just --"
"It's for Ben Affleck. He's in the middle of making the new Jack Ryan film -- big action flick, he's following in the footsteps of Harrison Ford and he's very tense. A lot of pressure is being put on him. He's not the first one to take it out on his assistants. Gone through four in a week."
"Really ... ? Gee, that sounds kind of --"
"Listen, you'll probably be fired by the end of the day, so then you're off the hook and you can tell all your friends you worked for Ben Affleck, blah blah blah. Don't stand there staring at me, I need a warm body over there NOW."
Travis had rushed over to the studio, with the VP's parting words ringing in his ears.
"And whatever you do, DON'T fucking mention PEARL HARBOR!"
Travis stepped up into the trailer, almost tripping over a dumbbell that was lying near the door. He'd heard that the rangy Affleck had trouble attaining the muscular build that was expected of an action hero, and was having to work out constantly.
Whatever kind of diet they have him on is probably making him grumpy as all hell, Travis thought. He was no stranger to the gym himself, and knew what kind of dedication it took. It could really mess with your head. He'd heard the rumors about how the normally easygoing Affleck was a nightmare during filming, with all the expectations of starring in a proven popular movie series, what with his track record in Armageddon and Pearl Harbor.
"Hello? HELLO? You deaf?" Ben still had his back to him, shuffling toward the other end of the trailer where there were some couches arranged in the corner. Clearly he'd been trying to catch a nap. Bad timing, Travis told himself.
"Just sit over there, have whatever you want from the fridge, and don't fucking bother me till I need you. And be quiet. I gotta lie down."
With that, Ben heaved himself onto the couch, lying on his back, loosening his shirt. Travis tried not to stare, but he couldn't help it. He'd never really seen a movie star up close, and now he knew there must be some serious movie magic involved in making Ben look like he did onscreen. He'd seen Ben's magazine cover with his shirt open -- maybe no fitness model, but a good regular-guy body. But here he was, lying back, eyes closed -- certainly more beefed up than usual, veiny biceps showing. But he had a definite pot belly bulging up over his belt, not flabby but jutting out hard like a beer gut. Something he definitely wouldn't want the cameras to see.
"I said go over there and wait. Close the door here. Get a drink. I don't care, just be quiet. And if those assholes from Entertainment Tonight show up, don't fucking let them in."
Travis retreated, closing the door, shaking his head. Boy, he was learning a lot already.
Ben slept for a couple of hours. Travis thought there would be more happening on a movie set, but it was mostly sitting around waiting. He poked around the trailer as well as he could without making any noise. There wasn't much to find. The fridge was stocked with juices and bottled water, and boxed dinners from a place called "MuscleTech" all labeled "For Mr. Affleck Only." There were supplements from the same place. Travis laughed at some of the names -- "Protein Transfer Enzymes" "Metabolism Supercharger" "Digestion Enhancer." Travis knew that there was no substitute for just working out hard, and not eating crap. All the get-muscled-up- quick stuff they tried to sell you was just shit.
After a while he was really starting to get bored. He had some grapefruit juice, and went looking for a place to throw the bottle away. Next to the wastebasket under the counter there was a trashbag, with one leg of a pair of jeans sticking out from the top. Travis was curious. Did Ben just wear his clothes and throw them away a day later? Movie stars probably did stuff like that.
Travis quietly pawed through the bag. It was all new clothes, pretty good stuff too. Shit, maybe he could sneak some of it out, he could use some new jeans and shirts. And sneakers -- at least five pairs were stuffed in here. Damn, Nikes and Reeboks. Looking closer at the shoes, Travis thought, well no wonder he threw them away, these are the wrong size. He'd seen Ben's size 13s kicked off next to the couch. Probably these got sent over by mistake, that must be it, Travis thought.
A groan and a belch from the other room in the trailer made Travis hurriedly stuff the bag back where he found it and stand up straight, smiling, trying to look like a friendly, efficient personal assistant. My buds back in Omaha are gonna shit when they hear about this, he thought.
The door swung open, and Ben came out, walking more energetically than he had been before, buttoning up his shirt. Travis blinked. Well, already he'd been wrong about Ben, he had practically a whole six-pack of abs. How could he have thought Ben had a pot belly?
"Finding everything ok?" Ben flashed his grin. Travis just nodded, waiting for the yelling or the abuse that the VP had assured him was inevitable. Instead, Ben just clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, good. Don't have anything for you to do right this second, but hang out here. Gotta go make some money for the studio," With that, he gave Travis a mock salute, and banged the trailer door open. Immediately a crowd of production people surrounded him. Travis watched him go.
Ben might not have had anything for him to do, but the production staff did. Travis was on the run the entire day, crisscrossing the lot on one errand after another. Somewhere around six thirty he asked one of the A.D.s when he thought he could go home. The guy stopped chewing the end of his pen long enough to shake his head at Travis. "Kid," he barked, "you ARE home."
Travis saw Ben a few times during the day, standing by taking messages off the cell phone while Ben was put through a grueling workout by his Hungarian trainer. Afterward he watched Ben wolf down two of the MuscleTech food boxes -- didn't look like any kind of crap HE'D ever eat, Travis told himself -- and swallow a couple handfuls of the supplements.
It was getting close to midnight, and Travis was back in the trailer, waiting for Ben to be finished so that he might possibly get to go home. The long day had seemed like a week, and Travis was exhausted. The trailer door clacked open, and Travis sat up with a start, realizing that he'd almost fallen asleep. A guy in a baseball cap stood there, probably one of the A.D.s, a little shorter than Ben's 6 foot 2.
"He back yet, or are they still torturing him?" the guy asked. Travis rubbed his eyes and leaned forward. He recognized the voice. Shit, it was Matt Damon.
"Uh, no, he's uh ..."
"I figured. I'll hang out. What's he got in the fridge, more of that bodybuilder crap? Jesus. I need a pizza or something. All they got out on the craft services table is more of this garbage. Ah wait. Here's something." Matt emerged from the fridge and tossed a cold can at Travis. "Have a beer."
Travis grinned, immediately at ease. He imagined himself telling his Omaha buddies, oh yeah, Matt Damon's just a regular guy. We had a couple beers and hung out. You know how it is.
Matt popped open his own beer and sat down, putting his feet up on the table. "So you the latest grunt they sent over?" he asked, chuckling. "Had you running all over the goddam place I bet. Been giving Ben a lot of shit about being Mister Big Ass Movie Star. Keeps him in his place."
They talked for about half an hour, Travis doing his best to not be intimidated as Matt made jokes and told him raunchy stories about Gwyneth Paltrow and Winona Ryder. The beer and the exhaustion were making it difficult for Travis to keep his eyes open. Finally Matt leaned over to him.
"Hey there man, you look like you need to wake up a little," He jerked his thumb back toward the trailer's bathroom door. "Whyn't you go jump in the shower, get yourself perked up, you'll feel better." Travis started to say, no, he couldn't, but Matt stood up and pulled him to his feet.
"Come on, could be here all night, never know, that's how it goes. Go ahead. Ben won't mind and if he says anything, I'll kick his ass for ya,"
Travis hesitated and then thought, well, maybe a quick one. Otherwise he knew he was going to fall asleep on his feet. And there were probably jeans in that bag that would fit him, so he could get out of his sweaty clothes. Nobody would even notice that they were missing, hell, they were being thrown away.
"Okay, thanks. I'll just be a couple minutes."
"Atta boy."
Travis was enjoying the hot water -- damn, who knew you could put a shower this good in a trailer? -- thinking about the phone calls he was going to make to Omaha. Sure, he lets me use the shower all the time. It's no big deal to him, we're more like buddies almost. He just uses Dial soap like a regular joe. And Head and Shoulders. Just a normal guy.
He heard the sound of the trailer door opening. Shit, shit, shit, Ben must be back. Even with Matt standing up for him, he didn't want to be caught loafing around taking a shower when he was supposed to be still on the job. He grabbed a towel and started to dry off, listening to the two movie star buds talking in low voices.
"Just came by to see if you needed any help this time,"
"I can handle it."
"That's what you said last time, ya idiot. Almost got caught."
"These workouts are kicking my ass, man. Never ate so goddamn much in my life."
"I know buddy, been through this myself, remember? You only got a couple weeks more of shooting then you can go back to just one a month, not every other day. You're in building mode, you gotta remember that."
"It's working pretty good though. Check out this flex."
Matt whistled. "Might have to get back on the regimen again, buddy. Looking good."
Just as Travis was deciding he was probably going to have to put his old clothes back on, the bathroom door opened, and Matt stuck his face in.
"What ya doin in here, beating off?" he grinned. "Come on out, Ben's done for the day, just got a couple more things for ya, and then you're finished."
"I uh, I'm not --"
Matt called back over his shoulder, "You got some stuff this guy can wear, right? Some shorts and a t shirt or something, right?"
"In the closet back here, yeah."
Matt turned back to Travis. "Come on. What are you, five ten? There's something you can wear, not like you're gonna be wearing it too long."
Travis wondered what he meant, but wrapped the towel around himself and stepped out. He followed Matt the few steps to the back room where Ben had slept earlier. Matt opened the door. There was Ben, shucking off his clothes, stripped down to his white briefs, newly muscled body showing a deep tan even in the dim light. Travis felt himself blushing. Matt just laughed.
"Hey Mister Tighty Whities. You got anything for Travis here?"
Ben grinned, as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down. "I think I do."
Travis felt a pounding in his ears as Ben slid his underwear down, revealing his prodigious cock, hanging thick between his muscled thighs. He heard the door close, and suddenly Matt was standing close behind him, reaching around him, gently unwrapping the towel, encircling him with his arms.
Holy fucking shit, Travis thought. All those goddam rumors were true. Holy fucking shit. Is this part of the job? I never -- I mean just the one time but shit -- I never -- what am I gonna -- holy shit --
Matt looked down over Travis's shoulder from behind, running his hand up Travis' muscular shoulder, the other grabbing on to his tight waist. "Nice. Definitely nice. You got a good one this time, buddy." he said to Ben, who was kneeling down on one end of the wide soft couch.
Ben grinned, his teeth gleaming white. "C'mere man. No. come on. It's not what you think,"
Matt breathed in his ear, "Definitely not what you're thinking man. Relax."
"I'm not going to make you suck my cock or anything," Ben said with a smirk. "Just need some help stretching. These workouts have me cramping up bad."
"REAL bad," Matt added, giving Travis a little push toward the couch.
Ben nodded as Travis sat on the other end opposite him. "That's right. Swing your feet up here. There ya go. That was easy, wasn't it?"
Matt came around the side of the couch, standing behind Travis, massaging his shoulders. "Relax man. Relax. It's a lot easier if you're loosened up,"
Travis tried to slow his breathing, but this was almost too much for him. Ben Affleck was bareass naked and holding his feet by the ankles while Matt Damon was rubbing his shoulders and he was sitting there with no clothes on still a little wet from the shower, shit, nothing like this ever happened in Omaha.
Ben was opening and closing his mouth like he was trying to make his jaw pop. "Dammit. This is the part I can never do,"
Matt sighed. "Jesus. I told you it's easy. You just gotta do it like I told ya -- no -- no you're doing it wrong -- oh, fuck, just let me." Matt marched over to Ben and gripped his face with both hands. Travis jumped involuntarily as Matt wrenched Ben's jaw, with a sound of bone and tendon popping. Holy fuck! It looked like his jaw had been dislocated, should hurt like hell, but Ben was giving Matt the thumb's up. What the fuck?
Matt returned to his place behind Travis, rubbing his shoulders with a stronger grip now, as Ben again held Travis' feet by the ankles, lifting them up to his now-gaping mouth, his jaw distending a little further. Travis was completely confused now -- he'd never heard of anything like this, ever. What the fuck was going on?
Ben reached out his tongue, which looked like it was thick and swollen, swiping it across Travis' feet. Travis barely had time to think Damn, maybe he's just into feet or some crazy shit, they all get weird here, when Ben stuffed both of his feet into his mouth and swallowed, Travis' legs slurping in halfway to the knee.
Travis tried to pull back instinctively. He'd had a girlfriend suck his toes one time. It had felt good, but a little weird, the hot slick softness. Now the same feeling was all over his feet and legs. He could feel Ben's cheek muscles tightening, helping to suck him in a little further. "What the -- ?"
Matt clamped his hands down on his shoulders, making it impossible for Travis to pull away from Ben, who now had Travis's feet sinking into his throat while his lips advanced to his thighs. "Just hold it there. Easy. Easy. Don't make this any harder than it's gotta be now bud."
Travis didn't know what the hell they were up to, but it was the weirdest goddamn thing he'd ever seen. Ben was holding on to his legs, pulling him slowly into his mouth inch by inch. He didn't know how it was fucking possible, but he could feel his feet and ankles squeezing into Ben's tight throat, the muscles contracting and releasing, pulling him deeper. Ben's mouth was hugely distended now, the lips stretched tightly around the middle of Travis' muscular thighs, Ben's hot breath blowing over the base of Travis' balls, making them tighten in their sack.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm getting a hardon. What the fuck is happening to me? How the hell is he -- Travis' thoughts were cut off as Ben groaned and lurched forward, gulping more of Travis into his mouth, Travis' cock now suddenly hard and thumping against the roof of Ben's mouth, Ben's lips tightening around his slim waist, his top lip sliding over Travis' tight abs.
Matt was applying pressure to Travis' shoulders, slowly forcing him in to Ben's mouth, guiding him in, helping Ben get through the difficult part, where he had to take in the kid's arms, having to stretch to his widest capability, breathing through his nose, gulping over and over, expending enough energy as though he were bench pressing 500 pounds or running a marathon. "Keep going... keep going ... yeah man ... wider ... wider, " Matt breathed, pushing a little harder on Travis' shoulders.
The kid was in shell shock, he thought. Some were like that, some struggled more. He remembered when he first needed Ben to help him out doing the very same thing... Ben didn't believe him at first ... thought he was crazy ... until he saw Matt practicing what he'd learned from his trainer...
Travis was overwhelmed by the sensation, Ben's hot slippery mouth and throat engulfing him, like a full body blowjob. The feeling of his stiff cock rubbing against the ridges of the roof of Ben's mouth, and then the slicker, smoother back of his throat, was about to make him come like he had never come in his life. Whatever weird sexual stunt this was, he would never forget it. He might even let Ben do it again, long as he understood that he was just doing it to help Ben out.
Ben was bracing himself, sweating with effort as he stretched to encompass Travis' chest, coming to the wide point of his shoulders. Travis was almost enjoying himself now. I wonder how far up he goes. He'd better let me out, it's getting kind of hard to breathe. Damn, this is tight. Dizzy ... shit ...
Matt increased the pressure on Travis' shoulders, forcing him deeper into Ben's distended throat. This was the critical point. He had to keep him moving so Ben could finish the job. It was like having a spotter in the gym, helping you lift that last heavy weight when your muscles were locking up from fatigue. He'd only made it past this point himself once without help, and that guy was skinny. "Come on... you're almost there ... almost there ... all be over in a minute."
It was then that Travis knew that Ben wasn't going to stop. He was going to swallow him. Whole.
Ben grunted like an ox, his muscles straining, sweat pouring off his body as he stretched to fit Travis' shoulders into his maw. Matt gave a shove, and Ben groaned in relief as he felt the kid sliding in, his lips quickly tightening around the kid's neck. The last part was always a breeze... gravity did most of the work from here on out ... Matt always enjoyed pushing the guy's head between Ben's lips ... the look on their faces really turned him on ... even though Ben could easily suck them down all by himself at that point. He was feeling the familiar fullness in his belly as the kid -- what was his name again ? -- began to arrive in his stretched-out stomach. He looked up into Matt's face. Matt had his hands on the kid's head and was guiding the last of him carefully into Ben's mouth. He knew that look. He knew that Matt was as hard a rock right now and would be jacking off in a minute, stroking his fat cock while watching the way Ben's flat belly rounded out like a beachball, heavy with its new load. Ben would fall into a near coma until the supplements kicked in, digesting the massive meal in just a couple of hours. Then he would flex in front of the mirror, enjoying his new muscles, feeling the rush of energy ...
Ben's lips closed over Travis' head. Travis was blacking out from lack of oxygen, which made his orgasm triply intense. He shot his wad deep into Ben's throat, sliding quickly down the slick esophagus, coming into a curled up position, feeling the walls of Ben's stomach closing around him.
Matt was fumbling with his belt, pushing his shorts down, both hands on his cock. It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen. Ben was getting good at it now, and hardly needed his help the way he did before. He could even get his jaw back in alignment all on his own. But Matt would always help out ... he could never get enough of the sight of Ben working his way up the guy's body, straining and pushing to swallow him. Ben rolled onto his back, his belly bloated to an enormous size, groaning in pleasure and relief. Matt cried out as he felt himself coming, spurting his load all over the arm of the couch, looking at his best friend's naked body, taut and muscular except for the hard, huge, round gut, which moved slightly as Travis struggled involuntarily inside Ben's stomach.
Matt dropped onto the couch, spent. It was almost as tough helping out as it was doing the swallowing. He closed his eyes and leaned back.
"Next time," he said, "Get them to send over one for me, too."
Ben grunted. Sure. He could get anything he wanted. He was a goddamn star.