Something About Charlie
1. Monday
I was born with a gift; I guess you’d call it. I excrete what Dr. Saunders calls a pheromone—a chemical that has an impact on the human brain inciting heightened arousal and extreme suggestibility. Someone gets a whiff of me and they become my bitch. The effect is also addictive, meaning that they usually come back for more. For most guys it would be a dream come true but it’s a nightmare for me.
Unfortunately it only works on gay guys. Women can’t seem to stand being around me. Even the ones I hire to fuck me don’t enjoy it. It’s not like I’m bad looking—I’m pretty toned, maybe a little on the wiry side but still. The pheromone suppresses female sexual interest and it’s impossible for me to give a woman an orgasm. Meanwhile a faggot can get one just sniffing my jockstrap.
I wake up each day, drink a huge jug of water and start running on the treadmill. My two live-in manservants, James and Jacob, dab my sweat on to towels as I jog. These two dudes are twin brothers and both built like pro bodybuilders. Something about my sweat also enhances the metabolism and they’ve had heavy long term exposure. Meanwhile I can’t seem to gain weight past 150.
I can tell when they’re toweling me off that they have huge hard-ons but I’ve given them explicit orders not to demonstrate any sexual excitement in my presence. I know they can’t help it but I don’t want to look at a dude’s cock, you know? Especially their twelve inch monsters.
“Good morning sir,” Dr Saunders says as he comes up to me with his clipboard. He’s maybe 32 years old and in really good shape, even before exposure to my pheromone.
The doc is a really great guy—I think he’d help me even if he wasn’t a total fag. I’ve offered a few times to help get him laid by the dude of his choice and he turned it down. He’s a top biochemical researcher and I have him working full time on a way to turn my pheromone into something that works on chicks and hopefully a cure for this gay mojo I have.
“Hey doc. Any news?”
“Well,” he smiles, “I think I’ve isolated the compound and now we just need to work on synthesizing a derivative. I’ll just need a few more--” And he goes into a long scientific ramble about compounds and synthetic inhibitors.
“Cool,” I say as I head toward the living room. All around plastic tubs have been stuffed with rolled up used towels, socks, shirts and underwear from the week. I turn on the television and kick my feet up on the coffee table. I give my pits a sniff just to make sure they’re operating at full capacity—I can’t really smell whatever it is I must smell like but I still do it.
My eleven o clock appointment shows up. I wave to the twins to let him in. This guy’s name is Mark and he’s a software developer. He’s maybe 5′9″, 180 with black hair and blue eyes. His hard on is already straining against his khaki pants by the time he hits the living room.
“Hello sir.”
I smile at him, “Hey Mark. You’re going to cut me a big check right?”
He looks at me with these almost lovesick blue eyes and says, “Yes sir. Been looking forward to it all week.” He pulls one out and writes it for five grand on the coffee table. The whole time he’s staring at my sneakers.
“Hey, Mark?”
“Yes sir?”
I’m feeling unusually generous today, “I bet you’d like to take that shoe off and get a nice whiff of my feet wouldn’t you?”
“Yes sir!” He says enthusiastically.
I nod briefly and he begins untying my shoe and slipping it off. Trembling he puts his nose against my sock and starts rubbing my foot. I’d be lying if I didn’t enjoy a good footrub and these gay guys know how to deliver. Besides he’s getting loaded up with enough of my mojo to last him till next month.
Once he’s in a good stupor, I interrupt him, “Mark. Thanks. Take a sock and go home. Once you get there you’ll beat off till you can’t cum anymore.”
“Thanks sir,” he says blankly and stumbles out.
Picking the check up off the table, I call after him, “I’ll see you in two weeks, Mark!”
“Yes sir”
The next visitor is my tentative business partner, a big Russian dude named Vladimir. He’s wearing a dust mask filled with Vick’s and he’s got a young blonde guy in tow behind him. I’m not even sure Vlad is exactly gay although he certainly gets off on telling people what to do; He’s made a tidy fortune off of dealing my pheromone as a drug at the clubs and filming porn with guys hopped up on my juice.
“Hello Charlie,” he says to me. His massive forearms are covered in tattoos and he’s wearing tight leather pants. ”You have the goods, yes?”
I snap my fingers and one of the twins comes out with a box. In it is a tess tube full of my “specimen” – a drop of that every day will make a guy as strong as a horse and dumb as an ox. I keep the twins on a steady diet since I need bodyguards, especially when dealing with shady characters like Vlad.
The blonde guy takes the tess tube from the box and samples a little bit on his tongue. It’s hard to watch a dude eating your week old cum but after sucking on his finger for a while the dude nods blankly.
Vlad sets a suitcase on the coffee table, “Fifty thousand.”
I lean over to open it and ensure the money’s all there. All of it goes to Dr. Saunders research and my subsequent cure… and the extravagant lifestyle I’ve become used to. For a minute I wonder what would happen if I ripped that mask off Vlad’s face and wrapped my arms around his broad Russian mobster nose. Vlad never samples the product directly so I have no idea if they’d even work on him.
After all without Vlad’s cut I’d have at least twice the take on this stuff. And the man was clearly a dangerous bastard. But I couldn’t risk what would happen if it didn’t work.
The blonde guy begins piling up boxes and carrying them out the front door. He’s wearing a tight blue tank top that shows off his perfect swimmers body. Vlad finds hot newcomers in town and turns them out as his private escort service.
All those old towels, jocks, shirts and socks carry a black market premium. Even a week old sweat stain is like Viagra for some gay dudes. The fresher smell will make a guy willing to do stuff he’d never do in a million years. The real deal will turn a guy into a mindless fuck toy… and they love me for it.
Probably the most useless ability in the world for a straight guy, but it pays the bills.
The rest of the day I watch TV, drink plenty of water and sit in the room with the heat cranked up. The twins come out periodically to sop up the sweat. “Hey,” I say to one as he rubs my thigh, “Are you Jacob or James?”
“I don’t remember sir.”
“Okay,” I’m feeling generous today, “Let’s say you’re James.”
“Thank you, sir.”
2. Subway
When I ride the subway I use a ton of deodorant. The doc whipped me up a formula that covers the aroma so that chicks won’t at least want to vomit when I sit near them. The one next to me gets up and leaves after a single stop. Predictably a dude sits down in her place.
He’s wearing a tank top, pair of white shorts and flip flops-- looks like he came from the beach. He’s got messy bleach blonde hair and after a minute he starts sniffling and looking over at me. He’s got pretty green eyes and a nice smile—for a dude. He’s probably twenty five.
I lean over and whisper, “Gimme all your cash.”
He pulls out his wallet and hands me a fist full of bills.
I pull one of Vlad’s business cards out of my underwear and hold it up to his face, under his nose. “You go to this address and ask for a man named Vlad. Tell him Charlie sent you. You do whatever he tells you, understood?”
The boy gulps a he takes the card, “Yeah, dude. Got it.”
“This is your stop kiddo.”
He gets up and makes his way off the subway car. For a brief second he looks back at me with these blank eyes and then he disappears into the crowd.
Within a week I’ll probably see him on Vlad’s site. Not that I look at gay porn, but I get a commission on what the site makes for any models I send over and I like to make sure Vlad isn’t skimming.
One of three things will happen to the guy. Vlad won‘t turn down potential money. Everyone who shows up at Vlad’s gets filmed, usually jerking off. Vlad makes them pose in an assortment of positions in his IKEA bedroom. After he’s done, he gets thrown a towel and told to get out. The guy will chalk it up to a one time lapse of judgment and try to forget about the whole thing afterwards. Or who knows? He shows his friends. I get 10% off that.
If Vlad, for whatever reason, likes what he sees he will go on to stage two. The guy still jerks off but Vlad uses some KGB brainwashing techniques—puts the guy in a blindfold and hooks him to an iPod for a few hours. The blindfold and gag have been soaked in my juice. By the end of the whole thing the guy is rock hard and has mastery of a few basic Russian phrases that I’m told mean “Worthless dog” and “Yes master”.
Now the guy gets so horny that he thinks Vlad is doing him a favor by letting him do porn with some of the other models. After the film session he’ll go about his everyday business totally unaware of what’s happening to him.
But each guy has his orders. Suddenly he’ll find he has the desire to go out and turn tricks or dance in Vlad’s bar. He’ll give Vlad all the money. Vlad calls them “Sleeper agents”. Call one of them a “worthless dog” in Russian and they go out like a light. I gut 20% off these guys.
The third scenario is that Vlad converts him.
He’ll lock the kid up and let his head clear a little bit. Since the kid I sent was dressed like a surfer he’ll probably go with that, but sometimes he puts them in army stuff or leather jackets—that kind of shit. When he’s nervous and wanting to leave, Vlad will start the initiation. Only the prettiest or handsomest get this “honor”.
He comes in to the room in some wolf mask and leather pants and tells the boy that he’s now owned. He throws a cockring on the ground and tells the guy to wear it. Most refuse. Some of the really plucky ones throw it back at him. Whatever happens two of his biggest guys come in with their leather harnesses and grab his arms.
One of the burly handlers shoves some of my gear in his face and he’ll start to calm down. Vlad likes it when they struggle and beg at first so he keeps the dose low but cranks it up gradually. One by one, Vlad’s slaves will file into the room and stand in a circle around the boy, jerking their cocks. One by one they’ll each gang bang the kid—everyone except Vlad who just… watches. Each time the kid gets pounded he’ll enjoy it more and more.
By the end, that smooth tan face of his will be drenched in cum and he’ll have his dick in that cockring.
“Welcome to the Brotherhood” Vlad will say.
I get 50% of the take on those. And Vlad only has seven at a time.