Thursday Fanwork: John Mills on a shitty day by Mark Treble

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The second of the Thursday Fanworks is fiction by Mark Treble, a follow-up to Flip’s Story. Mark’s standard note still applies: This is a work of fiction and all names used are fictional. It is fan fiction based on the “Daron’s Guitar Chronicles” series by Cecelia Tan. There are no copyright restrictions on this work and it is free for such use as the reader may wish, without attribution.

A secondary note from sanders: brace for homophobic language–it’s Mills being Mills and leveling up in being a slimeball.

JOHN MILLS ON A SHITTY DAY

Ziggy did his revolting thing in the recording studio. Jordan Travers was producing this part of the album, and he turned the mixing board over to somebody else so he could come out and stand with Ziggy for a run-through. Ziggy started doing something with his hips, staring at Jordan, and coming closer to him. He got down on his knees and sang into Jordan’s crotch. Then he pulled himself up along Jordan’s body and licked his ear. I wanted to vomit.

There have been rumors about Travers for a while, and he just stood there and took it. I guess the rumors are true.

Fucking Ziggy’s gonna be the death of me yet. When his public find out he takes it up the ass the whole thing will blow up. Thank God he’s more discreet than Daron Moonass. I sure hope we can keep it under wraps.

It took too long for me to figure out that Daron was a fudgepacker. See, I’m not queer, so I don’t have that ‘gaydar’ thing. Some people just hit you over the head with it, like that boyfriend of Moonass’s, Jonathan McCocksucker. Others kind of make you wonder some, like what’s his name Morrison. Light my fire? Light my ass, he meant. Or Bowie, you know. I kind of think he swings both ways.

Anyway, I sure hope Moonpussy doesn’t wind up forcing Ziggy to do queer shit where somebody could find out. Like that fraternity did to me.

Bunch of fucking faggots, that’s what they were. They forced all the pledges to suck guys’ dicks to get in. I gave Dennis a practice blowjob in private just to see if I could do it. I didn’t think about it when it was going on, but afterwards I threw up. Then they tried to make me suck his cock in front of everybody. The rest of the pledges swallowed the sausage, but I wasn’t going to do it.

Then me and Philip, my roommate, went upstairs and things went to shit. I had to get into the frat. My father and brother had both joined Gamma Phi Phi (Gay Phucking Phaggots as I thought of it). Philip looked at my strangely when I told him about my father and my brother. He must think they were cocksuckers, too. No they weren’t, god-dammit! I just know it. Philip said it was OK, and I told him I was as straight as he was. But he had sucked Vic’s dick. Maybe he wasn’t straight after all.

Then Dennis came in and told Philip to get out. “Johnny, do you want to get into the fraternity?”

“Fuck, I have to. But I’m not sucking your dick to do it. You have to find another way.” I was adamant.

“Aren’t you and Philip good friends?” Yeah, we were.

“You two have been rooming together since you both started pledging. Are you going to try and tell me that nothing has ever gone on?”

Fuck, Philip must have told him, or told his own Big Brother. We had fooled around some, wound up jerking each other off, but that’s not queer. That’s just guy stuff. I’m sure everybody does it.

“No comment.” That’s all I could say. Dennis got a knowing look on his face and I knew what was coming next. I just fucking knew.

“Then suck him off instead of me.” I involuntarily nodded my head. I mean, I had dreamt about it – nightmares, really – and a couple of them had turned into wet dreams. But I’m not queer. I guess it’s just hormones and curiosity, you know. I had nodded my head, even though I didn’t mean to. Dennis led me to the basement, and I wound up in the middle of a circle of brothers and pledges. Just me and Philip.

They made Philip take off all his clothes, and made me kneel in front of him. He was my good buddy, so this was OK, not like sucking my Big Brother’s cock. I started tentatively licking him, and Philip said it was OK, I didn’t have to do it. But I did. If I wanted to get into the frat, I did.

I just thought about nothing and took him in my mouth. Something took over and I bobbed my head up and down on his rod, and I was getting hard. I was probably thinking about me getting a blow job, that’s what made me hard. Then I started sucking and Philip moaned. I think I moaned too, but it was just because my roommate had moaned. You know how that goes.

Philip tried to force my head off of his dick, but if I was going to suck him, I was going to get the whole experience. I sucked for all I was worth, and suddenly he was coming in my mouth. I swallowed it all down. Then I stood up. I wondered why I didn’t feel like vomiting?

Next thing you know I had to get naked, too. Then, Vic and Dennis took us up to our room. Philip got in his bed, and they stopped me from getting into my own bed. They forced me to get into Philip’s bed with him. Completely naked. Like, neither of us was wearing anything. Then the brothers left.

Philip was giving me a look. I just knew he wanted me to kiss him, so I did. His look forced me to kiss him. Then he forced me to lick and suck on him all the way down to his cock. I asked him if I could do it again. It was like somebody else was speaking.

He let me suck him again. After that night, he forced me to suck him almost every day. Some days he’d suck me, too. I’m sure that’s why he was forcing me to suck him so often, he wanted an excuse to suck my dick. Fucking faggot. But, what can you expect of a music major.

Eventually, forcing me to suck him every day wasn’t enough. I mentioned something about him fucking me, I don’t remember exactly what. You know, kind of a hypothetical kind of thing. I sure didn’t want him to fuck me. He was immediately lubing his fingers and putting one, then two, and finally three into my ass. He’d already fucked me with his fingers, what was the difference if he fucked me with his dick? So I told him to go ahead.

God, did that hurt and burn. The further he went in the more it hurt. Then it felt full and, finally it felt good. I know he was somehow forcing me to like it, because I’d never do something like that without being forced to. I mean, I don’t take it up the ass. Like Ziggy does from Moondick.

The next day I might have told Philip it had felt good. I was just sharing my thoughts with my roommate, so why he figured I wanted him to fuck me again I have no idea. But he did. And, this time it didn’t hurt or burn as much. And each time he did it, it felt better and better.

I still sucked him from time to time, and he usually jerked me off when he was fucking me. Every time I told him he couldn’t let anybody know. I didn’t want anybody thinking I was a homo.

Philip would bring girls back to the room several times a week, I guess just to keep up appearances that he wasn’t a faggot. I dated a few girls and brought them back to the room. But, most times, I couldn’t get it up. I was too worried that they would know what Philip was forcing me to do. Sometimes Philip would come back from taking his date of the day home. Since I couldn’t seem to have pussy on my own, I figured I could prove to Philip I was straight if I sucked his dick just to taste the pussy on it. I could get a little taste of pussy, and I liked it when I sucked his cock and it tasted like a cunt, so I tried to do it every time he had just fucked. You know, to prove I wasn’t a queer like him.

Philip fucked me in the ass almost every day, sometimes twice a day. He told me he liked it. I told him it made me feel good, especially when I could come without him touching my cock. But that was all it was, it made me feel good. Not like I actually enjoyed it or anything.

Every time I told him he couldn’t let anybody know. I mean, sure, Philip was queer but I wasn’t. I just liked to taste pussy to prove I was straight, and I felt good when he fucked me. Sometimes I thought about that, but it made me sick to my stomach, so I didn’t think about it. Except when his dick was buried in my ass. Then I thought about it. A lot.

We did that for three straight years. Philip would fuck a girl, then I’d eventually suck him off to get a little taste of pussy. I had no idea why I couldn’t get it up with a girl, but I couldn’t. I asked my doctor about it one summer. He asked if I could get it up with a guy. I told him to go fuck himself, I wasn’t queer.

At graduation I had had enough. After we all threw our hats in the air, Philip came up and hugged me. In public. In front of other people. “Get your hands off me, homo,” I told him. “I’m not queer like you.” That’s the last time I ever saw Philip.

After graduation I got an internship with BNC. Then they hired me, and I started climbing upward. Sure, I had to step on some people to do it, but everybody does that. One time another guy and I were up for the same promotion, so I emptied the petty cash drawer and put all the money in his desk. All I was doing was what he would do to me, you know. I got the promotion and the rest is history.

From time to time some of the women would hit on me, but I still couldn’t get it up with them. I asked my new doctor about it and he ran some tests. He showed me pictures of pussies, shaved cunts, tits, women having sex with women, but I couldn’t get hard. I got hard when he showed me pictures of women having sex with men, but that was because I was imagining it was me. What else could it have been?

And, from time to time some of the guys would hit on me. For some reason I’d occasionally get hard. Just a coincidence. Every one of them lost his job. I made sure of it.

Then we signed Moondog Three. They were going like gangbusters, but they’d never be more than a good band we couldn’t sell as real rock, or folk, or anything. I told production to limit the number of albums produced so we didn’t lose too much money. We didn’t actually lose money, you know, but once I had figured out that Daron Moonfucker was gay, I had my out. Because I had my eye on Ziggy.

That guy has presence. He’s going to be my golden goose. The guy just exudes sex, I tell you. And sex sells. Faggot shit doesn’t sell, so I made sure to get rid of Moondog Three as soon as I could. That way there was nowhere for Ziggy to go except into my arms. Figuratively speaking, of course.

The guy’s manager was an idiot, although not as big an idiot as Daron. He had hired his own worthless father as the band’s manager. He would do anything I told him to. He hired photographers to follow his kid around and get pictures of him with his boyfriend. God, how revolting, a man has a boyfriend. Then I fired the kid, told him it was because he was queer, and his own father, Donald Marks, helped me do it. What a fucking pathetic case. When I put together a multi-year deal for Ziggy, Marks was salivating at the mouth. He would get fifteen percent of five million. Yeah, I had to get rid of him. I went straight to Ziggy and told him his manager was stealing from him already, and if he got his hooks into him for a long-term deal it would only get worse. The prima donna drug addict thought he could manipulate me into giving him more money and throwing a bone to his former band-mates. Wasn’t my money, so I agreed.

Ziggy signed, then fired the elder Marks. Good riddance. Anyway, after I had seen Ziggy do that shit with Travers I knew we had the same fucking faggot problem. And, today was the shittiest day of all.

I went to an industry thing where Daron Mooncock was playing something from an album, and Ziggy was there. I saw the way he looked at Daron, and I knew. I need to get Ziggy away from him, he’s a bad influence. I don’t want my golden goose getting cooked for being queer. And Sarah Rogue was there, too. What are the chances she’s a lezzie? Nah, can’t be. All the other guys hit on her. I’m just too professional to do that.

I called in a favor from a music writer and he published a bad review of Mooncunt’s new album. I figured that might do him in, but it had no effect. In fact, it might have had the opposite effect. I should have bribed Jonathan McCocksucker to write a tell-all piece about perverted sex with Daron. But, McCocksucker has a successful book now, and it’s too late.

I’m sure I can force Barrett to keep Ziggy away from Daron. I mean, I own Ziggy and I own Sarah Rogue, another one of his clients. Barrett will do anything I tell him to. Donald Marks did, and they’re all exactly alike.