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Ty

“ Y ou should have seen him!” Greg jumped off the curb and slapped Sam on his back so hard he almost fell over.

“Dude! Fuck, man.” Sam gained his balance and turned to our much larger friend. Greg was a walking slab of muscle.

“Oh, did that hurt the little baby?” He ruffled Sam’s hair. Sam was much shorter than both of us and maybe weighed a buck twenty wet.

“Yeah. Don’t bruise the merchandise, bro.”

Greg pushed his finger into Sam’s chest. “What? You gonna run and tell Poppa Cappie that mean old Greg is abusing you? Fucking baby.”

“I’m not a goddamn snitch, asshole. But I get enough bruises already without you adding to them.”

“Hey, it’s just part of the job, bro. A lot of pleasure sometimes takes a little pain.”

“Says the dom,” Sam huffed. “From the other side, I can tell you that it’s not always that pleasurable. Some of these clients, dude, are…”

“I know, man. But what are we supposed to do? Poppa Cappie doesn’t like being told no, and he’s paying for all this, so when they want it rough – I give it to them rough, and so do you.”

“Yeah. Lucky you,” Sam cracked his neck. “What the fuck are we doing with our lives? I was going to go to law school.”

Sam asked the question that most of the boys in the house had asked at one time or another. Poppa Cappie was a businessman first and my uncle second. I had been forced to move in with him when I was only twelve years old because my parents died in a car wreck. Somehow, I had walked away without a scratch on me, but they didn’t. I had wished that I’d been killed with them for most of my life. But fate had other plans for me, I guess.

The other guys at the house of Cappie had found their way there in one way or another – most of them illegally. But they were fine – I mean, they were boring, and most of them weren’t very smart, but they were my friends, and when I was in a pinch – they were family. We were probably the only family that any of us had.

“We’re influencers,” Greg laughed easily.

“We’re whores,” I groaned. “Do any of us have our own accounts to make money on? No. That account and our fame all belong to Poppa Cappie. We’re tools and nothing more. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“We get paid – and I think we get paid pretty well. I want for nothing, do you?” Greg smirked, already knowing the answer.

“Can we get back to the story, please,” I snorted, tired of their bickering. I really needed to find other people to hang around with. Someone much more interesting than the guys at Poppa Cappies.

“Oh, yeah! So, I had him bent over, and I was pounding him – he was begging me. I told him he was gonna have to pay more if he wanted me to…”

“Look!”

“He had already paid for that.”

“No, dumbass. Look who’s walking towards us.”

I sighed as I glanced up. I didn’t know their names, but I knew who they were. Poppa Cappie made sure that we knew everyone at his rival’s studio. Poppa Cappie and Daddy Monty… Talk about two people who truly hated each other so much that they acted like an old married couple.

Daddy Monty and my uncle used to be best friends, but money and power got between them. We'll never know who was actually at fault, and it really didn’t matter. Our two houses of ill-repute – our studios and social media all kept the feud active and fiery. I hated them because I had to. They hated me because I was more beautiful and more muscular than them. My going rate was the most expensive of all the boys, and their jealousy knew no boundaries. Even the guys in my own house treated me as if I were special. I was, and I hated it.

Uncle Cap didn’t treat me any differently than he did his other boys, though. I worked just as hard as they did – harder because I was so desired. Only one other in the house gave me a run for my money, and he was a total narcissist who enjoyed staring at himself more than his clients. Jules was a real asshole.

“What do you wanna do?” Sam glanced around.

“I’m really not in the mood to deal with this shit today.” I groaned, knowing that the shit was about to go down. Everyone thought I was a hothead, but Gregory could never let a sleeping dog lie. I preferred to pick my battles when they mattered, but somehow, I had developed a reputation as a class-A prick.

“Let’s remind them that they may live on the same street, but that street belongs to us,” Greg laughed loudly and slowly raised his middle finger as they approached. He couldn’t stop himself from trying to get under the competition’s skin.

“Is that finger for us?” The tallest one, I think his name was Abe Masters, which was a stupid name for someone who sucked as much dick as he did on camera, stopped and stared at Gregory and Sam.

“Well… It is a finger, and it is pointing up.” Greg smirked.

“I mean, it’s not pointing at you, but yes, it is pointing nonetheless.” Sam chuckled as he shifted his feet gently away from Greg, who was as coiled tightly as a cobra.

“Oh, I think it’s totally meant for me. Did my last video outperform yours? It must be hard to know you’re considered one of the laziest fucks on the internet.”

“Now it is definitely pointing towards you.” Greg shifted his finger and pushed it further towards him.

“Looks more erect than your penis. Perhaps you should use that finger instead.” Abe cracked his knuckles.

“It’s a big finger.” Abe’s redheaded friend laughed. I had seen him but couldn’t remember his name. Monty was trying to make him a thing – but so far, he wasn’t very memorable.

“It’s a big dick, and I have no trouble getting hard.” Greg took a step forward and moved his finger a few inches from the redhead's face.

“That’s not the rumor on LPSG. They say other actors complain when they work with a Cappie boy.” Abe cackled and got in Greg’s face – which was a stupid move. Abe was tall, but Greg was huge.

I needed to put a stop to this or it was going to get ugly. “Is that what they say?” I muttered lowly from behind Greg and Sam and stepped around them so the Monty boys could see me. “I think it’s more likely what you want to believe, but I dare you to say that to my face.”

“Stop it!” Ben, one of Monty’s most popular boys, ran down the street towards his friends. “There are people over there watching, and one of them has a camera.”

“So?” Abe seethed.

“So, this won’t help either one of our houses. It just makes us look like a bunch of rednecks or gang members.”

“Gang bang members.” Greg huffed.

Greg – did I say he was the hotheaded one? Yes, I did. Greg pushed Abe on his chest with his finger, and before I knew what was happening, Abe swung his fist, and it collided with Greg’s jaw. He barely registered the punch. He barely moved as he recovered, but when he did jump into action, it was faster than anyone could have expected. His large, muscular frame tackled Abe, and they fell to the ground – arms and legs flopping onto the hard pavement in front of Tammy Sue’s Beauty Salon.

I cracked my neck and prepared myself for the eventual outcome. Sam and the redhead ran at each other, and I grinned at Ben.

“Hey, pretty boy,” I smirked. “You’re gonna just stand there as your friends do all the dirty work.” The mess was already going down, and I could see the people down the street filming. I wasn’t going to be the only one looking like a fool while my friends did the dirty work.

“Ty. We’re not our bosses. It doesn’t have to be this way. I have nothing against you.” Ben held his hands up.

“I don’t think we have a choice unless you want to look like a coward, Benny Boy.” I stepped towards him, and he held his hands up in front of his face. “As always, cameras are rolling.”

“We should be pulling them apart… Oh, fuck it.” Ben shook his head, and his hands turned to fists. “We’re already in the fucking thick of it. Maybe Monty will give me a bonus.”

Greg and Abe were rolling on the ground, trying to get the best of each other. The sound of fists on flesh punctuated the air. Sam and the redhead were already out of my sight, but I didn’t need to worry about Sam. He was a fucking little scrapper.

“You wish.” I stepped forward, and Ben fucking ran at me. I moved slightly to the left and held my foot out. Ben tripped and tumbled to the ground. Hopefully, he didn’t hurt that pretty face. That would have been a shame, even for one of Monty’s boys. Ben was a total cutie and one of the only ones who gave me a run for my money in this business we called show.

“Fuck!” He picked himself up and came at me, throwing a punch that I artfully dodged. “Fucking cat prince!” He stepped back and wiped the trickle of blood from his forehead.

“Don’t talk about my pussy, little Benny,” I threatened. #CatPrince was the moniker that Cappie gave me because I had a couple of cats that I treated like children. I preferred them to almost everyone. “First blood – is that getting in your eyes? I didn’t even punch you yet.”

“Asshole.”

He threw another punch, and I sidestepped it easily. “You’re making this too easy.”

“Stand still, damn you!” He yelled in rage and ran at me. Instead of easily dodging him, I wrapped my arms around him and held his arms firmly in my grip on his side as I spun him around.

“Should I let go and see how far I can toss a bottom?” I laughed. I was enjoying this more than I should. If I had been of sound mind, I would have helped Ben de-escalate the situation, but a camera was still a camera. The audience expected something of us, and who was I to deny them what they wanted? Our feud was epic and filled the chatrooms of the people who enjoyed beating off to us as they watched our bodies writhe in the throes of fake passion.

“Don’t you dare.”

“That might be a waste of a very pretty face. If our houses didn’t hate each other, I would love to see you wiggle as I impaled you.”

“In your dreams.”

“That wasn’t very smart.”

“Don’t you dare,” he gasped, and I grinned wickedly at him.

“You did ask for it, handsome.” I spun faster and opened my arms. Ben flew into the air – his legs kicking wildly onto the pavement, where he landed without decorum on his ass before skidding across the concrete. I was careful in my release. I could have made it much worse and bruised more than his ego, but that would have been a waste. Out of all Monty’s boys, Ben was probably the nicest and most calm of them all. “I did you a solid. Now stay down.” I pointed at him, and he slowly picked himself up enough to get to his knees. I had raddled him.

The sirens let us know that our foray into madness had to come to an end. We had been warned more than once, but we never really paid for our duels. Cappie and Monty had the mayor in the palm of their hand. He was a fan, as was the police chief. Even when we didn’t get away in time, we never had real repercussions.

“Time to skedaddle assholes. The boys in blue are about to arrive.” Greg laughed as he threw one last punch that landed right in Abe’s stomach. He was gonna feel that one for a long time. Abe doubled over and fell to his knees.

“Fuck. Too late.” Sam scoffed as he ran over to me.

The sirens grew deafening as two patrol cars pulled up to the curb beside us.

“Play it cool,” I ordered, and Ben walked over and helped Abe up to his feet as he threw an arm around him. The redheaded boy wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and spat onto the street.

The doors of the cop car flew open, and one of the policemen opened the back door. We watched and waited for them to pretend to issue us citations. Like I said, our bosses had this city in the palm of their hands.

An incredibly expensive shoe swiveled out of the car and landed on the sidewalk. Out stepped the fucking mayor himself. I knew him, of course. He had paid a few visits to the house during my time there.

“Boys,” he huffed and wheezed as he exited the vehicle. “Guys, please turn those fucking lights off.”

“Yes, sir.” One of the cops went around to the driver’s side, and in a few seconds, there was peace once again. It had felt a little like a lousy rave.

“Boys. This has to come to an end. Do you know how many complaints we have had about you, ruffians? Too many. That’s how often we get complaints about you lot roughing it up in the streets for likes on your Instagram and TikTok. It has to end. I am calling Cappie and Monty today and telling them that this has gone on for too long. It ends now! The next time we catch you fighting on a city street, we will arrest you. Warn the others because I am done with your stupid bullshit.” His face grew red as his voice rose.

“Sure, I’ll deliver the message to Monty. I am sure you’ll be hearing from him.” Ben sounded stern, and I felt a little twinge in my cock. He looked really hot with the trickle of blood coming from his forehead.

“I will be happy to tell my uncle, too. I am sure that Cappie will also want to speak with you about this,” I said as casually as possible. “He truly doesn’t like being told what to do. Just ask, Monty.”

“I don’t care what either of them says!” his voice cracked. “The next time – and I’m serious as a heart attack, you go straight to jail where most of you lot belong.”

“Does this mean you won’t be visiting any longer, Mayor?” Abe grinned. “I know how much you enjoy your visits.”

“This isn’t about that, you little asshole,” he spitted as he stepped toward him. “What happens in your house is consensual and legal. But what you do to this city is not. Do we understand each other?”

Ben and I glanced at each other and smirked. “Crystal clear, Sir.”

“Let’s go.” The mayor turned back to the police car. “The smell of shit on this street is making me sick.”

We watched him crawl back into the car and stood there as they drove away.

“You think he’s serious?” Ben asked as he bit his bottom lip.

“I think we have to believe so, for now. Tell your house. I’m sure our bosses will have a lot to say.”