Hello! This is an RP written by myself and Stormy (her tumblr is darkandstormyslash, she has some published works on this site so if you want to read more by her and support LGBTQ authors writing queer fiction please have a look . )

The prompt was Magnussen runs a porn studio and he blackmails all of his actors into working for him. Everything is going well until he brings in the new boy, Jim.

I wrote for Jim
Stormy wrote for Sebastian, Mycroft, John and her OCs
We shared Sherlock and Mycroft

It was a bit impossible to tag everything but I think I covered trigger warnings, if you see anything else do let me know and I'll add it in. From what I have tagged it is pretty clear that this is a darker fic. That doesn't mean there's no hope. Enjoy.


Sebastian had quit smoking when he'd joined the army, figuring that it wasn't worth destroying his own staying power just for the sweet little flicker of nicotine. Once they'd kicked him out, he'd started up again, and now the only affect was it annoyed John Watson, who had to kiss him afterwards. He grinned as John scowled at him from inside the studio, then flicked out the lit cigarette and came inside when John waved a sheaf of papers in his direction, "Script, and Mags is running late, he's bringing in the new boy."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at that, looking curiously at the door, waiting. He was dressed for the shot already, combat boots desert-rat trousers and a white vest. "Student?" He asked, snorting as John gave a slightly disgusted look, "Oh c'mon, they pay well. Twinks get the most hits, we both know that."

Jim sat in the parked car with Magnusson, his chin up defiantly and his hands fisted in his pockets. God this whole situation left him angry enough to kill something. Of course, that was what got him into this trouble in the first place. "Anything I should know before hand?" As much as he hated this it would be better knowing what he was going in to. As it was Jim knew very little about what he was going to be doing.

Magnusson gave him a faint smile, reaching across and very deliberately placing a hand on Jim's thigh, squeezing it. "Yes. I keep my productions safe and consensual, however the way you'll be treated by the men in there might depend on your attitude. I'm not going to stop them if the filming's good. Today, you'll watch, learn and be given a script.
Tomorrow you come in, clean yourself out, and then start filming." Another smile, another squeeze, and then Magnusson got out of the car, heading inside the studio and not bothering to see if Jim was following.

A snarl broke out as Magnusson left the car but Jim covered it with a blank expression. He couldn't stand being spoken to that way but it was probably the least of the indignities he would suffer during this process. He got out of the car and followed behind, letting his tension go and leaving a blank slate behind. No one could touch him unless he allowed it, and he had no intention of letting anyone here get close to his personhood. His body was just a thing that he used, it didn't matter. As they entered the studio Jim shook off the thoughts and stared at everything through hooded eyes, analyzing and trying to get a feel for what was going on.

Sebastian and John both half-consciously snapped to attention as Magnussen entered the studio, Sebastian's eyes flickering to the student behind him and raising an eyebrow. The boy looked young, almost too young, which was probably the exact reason he'd been picked up. John cleared his throat and elbowed Sebastian in the ribs murmuring, "Stop ogling the new one…"

Magnussen gave them both a fleeting and dismissive look before heading over to the head camera-man. "In position, Moran you've been smoking. Don't. Clear the set; let's see what we have so far." Sebastian picked up a small bowl of water and tipped it over his head, shaking his hair out and then getting into position while John mumbled quickly through his script one final time. The set, as it was, consisted of not much more than a dilapidated truck on a small heap of sand. Sebastian hauled up the front of the truck then nodded at the camera man, who started rolling as the well-worn clichéd dialogue slid from John's lips.

Jim watched on, unimpressed, as the actors worked. He stood leaning against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest. "What is it that I'm supposed to be watching and learning, exactly? How to salvage a shite script?"

Magnussen looked down at him and ruffled his hair. "You really think our audience watches this for the script? No - they watch it to see a big muscular man in a soldier's uniform getting fucked." He nodded towards the set, to where John had already managed to divulge Seb of most of his clothing, the lights winking off his major's uniform and medals. "They watch it because their lives are meaningless and a quick wank in the dark makes them forget that for the few minutes before they crawl back into the marriage bed. That man is the one that will be fucking you tomorrow." He nodded at Sebastian, as he was bent over the truck, unconvincingly flushing and giving a few moans, while John kicked his legs apart to the accompaniment of "That's an /order/ soldier."

Jim made himself watch despite how deeply uncomfortable he was, if he was going to be participating tomorrow he'd need to get a thick skin and fast. If Magnussen's casual touches could leave him feeling this unbalanced he didn't like to imagine how he'd be feeling later. "I wonder what that says about the people who produce it and pander to the pathetic sods." Jim quipped back. He knew he should probably have a better attitude but that wasn't easy to do while watching the two men fucking against a truck and knowing he'd be in a similar position tomorrow. Jim zeroed in on the taller of the two men, the one bent over the truck. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to think about him. There wasn't anything he could deduce about him as he was currently playing a role and in costume. Jim supposed he was handsome enough, if you liked built idiots and stubble burn. "He doesn't look like he could fuck his way out of a paper bag."

"It says that they have seen a marketplace that needs filling." Magnussen responded calmly "And you are an asset to fill that marketplace. But you are also a rude little boy - Yanos, bring the surfer script." He patted Jim's head again as one of the technicians came over carrying the papers. "A surfer boy walks along a shore, he finds a beach-house, he breaks in. When the owner returns he is punished and fucked. A standard story. I'm sure you've heard it many times. Now it is your story." He watched as John pulled on a condom and then held up a hand. Both men paused. "Belt him first, and tell him to stop smoking. I'll be in the office." He stalked out, leaving Jim behind as Sebastian gripped the top of the car and the camera started rolling again.

Jim stood with the script in his hand, unmoving for a long time, trying to get himself under control. There was a couch in the corner and Jim laid down across it. He alternated between watching the actors and reading through his script. Feelings of resentment boiled up until it was difficult to focus on either of those things. Thankfully the scene seemed just about finished.

John slid his belt smoothly through the straps and flicked it in Seb's direction - now Magnussen had gone the studio seemed to relax a little, and the belting mostly consisted of snaps of the leather and stinging marks that showed up red just for long enough to look good on camera. Once the action was all finished, and a few parts repeated to the camera-man's satisfaction, the two broke apart, John heading for the showers while Sebastian pulled his trousers up and sauntered over, leaning against the wall next to the couch. "You the newbie? Careful on the couch you might stick to it."

Jim wrinkled his nose and stood quickly, brushing off the front of his trousers like they'd had dirt on them. "Is everything in this place tasteless?"

"It's a porn studio not Claridges." Sebastian gave a grin, nodding at the script. "Which one did you get? Schoolboy, football team, next door neighbour? There's sod all different in dialogue but you get to wear a different silly costume with each one." he grinned as John came out of the shower in jeans and slacks, "He won't wear the army trousers a second longer than he has too. But there's bound to be more changes needed when Mags looks through them and I can't be arsed to change."

Jim just scowled and handed his script over to the man, not interested in discussing the thing before he would have to. Jim was finding it difficult to look at him, out of embarrassment more than anything. He wasn't a virgin of course but he'd never had sex with a stranger before and this first meeting was painfully awkward for Jim. "Fascinating." He bit out sarcastically.

"Surfer?" Sebastian just glanced at the title and raised his eyebrows dropping the script back onto the couch. "How did you manage to piss him off that much already? Well - I'll look forward to it." He headed back to the camera man, who was already doing some head-shots with John, while a light went on in the sound booth in the corner. In these productions, turnover was fast, with the camera and sound work often being done in the same day.

Jim stomped over back to the man and grabbed his wrist assertively to get his attention. "What do you mean I pissed him off? How is this shite different from any of the other ones?"

Seb scowled as the kid grabbed his wrist, twisting his hand around to free it while his other hand grabbed at the front of Jim's shirt. "Alright, fine. I'll do The Talk. You're a twink, right? And nobody gives a shit about watching twinks having mild mutual sex. Twinks are either soft and sweet and get other twinks to be giggly with; wide-eyed and innocent and get stretched open wide, or snarky little shits who get their arses beaten raw. Take a guess where you are. The surfer sketch has a spanking and a paddling and sex afterwards. It's a tough first time. Mags is breaking you in."

"Fuck you," it was quiet- whispered on a breath that felt like it'd been punched out of him. "No. No, I won't. I don't want to-" Jim tensed up like he'd been electrocuted, Magnussen's final whispered threats echoing in his head. Jim could call a halt to this whenever he wanted. Magnussen kept a professional studio, after all. But as soon as he refused to do something, anything, his freedom would come to an end. Jim glanced about automatically, hoping that the producer hadn't heard him. Hoped that the other actor wasn't in on this, that he wouldn't report him. He looked up at the solider, all of his anxiety mixing in his gut as he looked for a sign that he was about to be thrown under the bus. Jim clenched his teeth together, he felt he was going to be sick, thinking about what he'd have done to him tomorrow. Jim shook a bit as he imagined this large man striking him repeatedly, for an unknown amount of time while other people filmed his humiliation. The rage he nursed since Magnussen contacted him was overwhelmed with panic that he desperately tried to quash down. He gripped the hand twisted up in his shirt tightly.

"Yeah, well nobody /wants/ to." Sebastian muttered, thinking he was going to need a pretty stiff drink tonight. "Except Mags. He wants to watch you break, watch you learn, watch you cry. Make use of that information however you damn well want." The kid was looking angry and terrified and Sebastian sighed, removing his hand from Jim's shirt and giving the hand gripping his a little pat. "Bear in mind it's not in his interests to get you scarred, or physically damaged. You're a cute one and he'll need you pretty and functioning. So there is that. Have fun learning your lines. I need a smoke." Letting go of Jim he tugged a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and headed out the building.

"Wait." Jim caught up the other man and watched him carefully. "I'm Richard." Jim didn't offer his hand to shake, he wasn't feeling very charitable but the other man hadn't been completely awful to him.

"Seb." Sebastian mumbled in return. He was pretty sure that Richard wasn't the young man's real name, but he might just be naive enough to use his actual one. "And if that's not a stage name then get a damn stage name. You're too young to have this following you around for the rest of your life."

Jim looked away and felt himself flush a bit. Something about Sebastian made him feel exposed, like he stripped away Jim's anger and saw everything underneath it. "Richard Brook is the name I'm using here. I'm not an idiot." Using a fake name wouldn't save his reputation, people were bound to recognize his face.

"Seb's my real name, because apparently I am." was the only reply Sebastian gave before heading out through the doors and lighting up.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Sebastian spent the night in his tiny, shitty flat drinking himself stupid and watching action films, which meant he was in rather a delicate state the next morning. He came in wearing jeans, a hoodie with no shirt, and a pair of dark glasses, and even managed to make it in at a reasonable time.

Magnussen gave him a blank look when he saw him, coming over and flicking at Sebastian's nipple through the hoodie, "I hope you can manage through today Sebastian. It's an /intense/ scene and I'm sure you'll enjoy the chance to top for once. Unless you screw it up. Then I might start thinking you're better underneath."

Flick, flick, flick, until Sebastian scowled and looked away. "Yeah boss, don't worry. I'll get him crying."

Jim came in late and didn't give a fuck. He had been up half the night and hadn't been able to fall asleep until he'd taken medication. He'd had too much coffee this morning and right now he felt on edge and strung out. His anger had evolved from hot flames to lava that burned hot and rolled in his stomach, blistering his insides. He'd make sure that if he was going to be forced into this that he made the process as painful as possible for everyone else. He walked into the studio and looked around, not knowing what to do so he stood by the door and waited for someone to notice him.

Sebastian had already cleaned and changed, wearing a flannel shirt and a pair of jeans and standing next to a hut that consisted of three walls and a fake-looking bamboo roof, located on the same patch of sand the truck had been before. There were even a few splashes of oil still present. He raised his eyes at Jim as he arrived and Magnussen came over, patting Jim's hair again, "You're late. Don't be. Go into the bathrooms, wash and enema. Costume is waiting for you on the hook. Be quick."

Jim bit back a nasty comment and just breezed past Magnussen, heading for the bathrooms. He took his time getting ready and eventually came out in his costume with a robe drawn tight around himself, glaring at anyone who dared to look in his direction. "Is everything to your satisfaction, /sir?/" Jim sneered to Magnussen. "Or would you like to bend me over and check for yourself?" They hadn't even gotten started and Jim was already bristling just from the humiliation of preparing himself to get fucked by a stranger on camera. He could have kept his head down and made it as easy as possible on himself but that felt too much like giving in. And whatever Jim was, he wasn't one to turn the other cheek when he'd been insulted.

Sebastian closed his eyes and gave a tiny groan as he saw Jim coming out with a robe on, fingers twitching and wishing he'd had a smoke before starting. He'd been waiting long enough for the stupid little brat to turn up and now it seemed that Jim was determined to cause trouble. Magnussen stepped forwards, tugging at the robe until it fell open and simply replied, "Yes. Yes I would like to check. It is your first day and you've cause enough delays without causing another through being unprepared."

Jim stilled and barely kept himself from recoiling. He had meant it sarcastically of course but fuck all he could do about it now. Digging his fingers into Magnussen's eyes was certainly holding appeal. Still, he turned around and slid the shorts down to his thighs. His face was blank and he kept his hands occupied with his shorts so he wouldn't be tempted to slap Magnussen's hands away. "Have at it then."

Magnussen stepped forwards, cool hands placed on either side of Jim's arse, digging in a little as they separated the curves, "Hmm..." he sounded detached, clinical, opening Jim up for the whole studio to see. He tapped a finger twice against Jim's entrance then straightened up. "Good enough. Get dressed, get in position. Moran, out of shot. I hope you've learnt your lines."

Jim tugged the shorts back up furiously and he shucked off the robe and dropped it on the floor. He wondered why they even bothered to put him in the shorts at all, they were torn to bits and as it was you could practically see his ass peeking out the bottoms. "Yeah, I've got it." Jim walked on the set, wrinkling his nose at the feeling of sand between his toes and the smell of oil.

Sebastian realised he'd been holding his breath a little and let it out, walking away from the hut and grabbing his copy of the script, feeling his heart hammering. He wasn't sure who he felt more nervous for, himself or Jim, but he hadn't spent as much time looking at the script the night before as he'd have liked. The camera-man rolled his eyes, muttered something uncomplimentary and then nodded at Jim, "OK kid, watch the lights, go for it."

Jim stood there, his expression totally blank as he recited his lines. "Oh man, looks like there's a storm coming. Lucky I could find shelter. Huh. It looks abandoned. I sure hope this is okay. I'll just bunk here for the night." Jim sat down on the floor, his back against one of the fake walls as he stared to the side of the camera.

The camera man looked at Magnussen with an eyebrow raised. Magnussen said nothing, just gave a faint smile and a little shrug and said, "I'll see the shots at the end of the day. Continue." Before giving Sebastian a glance and then heading into his study.

Sebastian gave another groan, tugged his glasses off and then stumbled into the shot. Looking down at Jim he managed a passable growl, "Hey ... what are you doing in my place huh?"

Jim was probably supposed to be staring up at the man with big eyes and pleading for mercy. Instead he stood as tall as possible and glared at Sebastian like a piece of shit he found smeared across his shoe. "I was only looking for a place to spend the night, I don't want any trouble."

It was hard to keep from grinning as Jim snapped back at him but between his hangover and what he was about to do to the boy Sebastian managed. He knew that neither of them would be allowed to leave until Mags had footage he was happy with, and it was up to Sebastian to make that footage. Jim being a bitch - he could work with that. He gave the boy a little slap round the face and the camera man raised an eye, not used to things getting physical quite so quickly, "Hey not so much lip, this is my house and you have no right to be here. Give me a reason not to haul your ass off to the police."

Jim blinked in shock as he reached up and touched his face tentatively. It hadn't even hurt very much but no one had cleared any of this with him beforehand. He knew about the paddling and everything but no one had said they were going to hit his face. His stomach dropped and he felt unease creep in. If they were already overdoing things this early on his first day then Jim really had no idea what they were capable of. "Fuck you." Jim snarled, completely dropping character. "Like I give a rat's arse, you're just going to do whatever you want anyways."

"Yup!" Sebastian grinned, pretty sure now that this take would be consigned to the cutting bin. There were a few of the actors allowed to go off-script - Diago, who was here illegally and rumoured to be sucking Mags's cock, and Darren, who did whatever the hell he wanted and looked fucking terrifying doing it, but the rest of them stuck to the corny lines and stupid dialogue. Picking Jim up, he flung the boy over his shoulder, turning his ass, fully visible under the jean rips, to the camera and patted it, landing a few slaps, "And I'm gonna take it out on yer arse. Good luck sitting down tomorrow."

Anxiety gripped him and he struggled, perfectly happy to be dropped if that meant he could be back on the ground where he belonged. "Put me down you stupid fuck!" Jim felt Sebastian's hand come down on his ass and he stilled, reminded of what was going on- what was at stake. "Oh please don't. Anything but that." He went back to delivering his lines coolly, barely short of sarcastic. Just to be a shit Jim reached and gripped the hair on Sebastian's neck, tugging sharply. Enough that it'd hurt but wouldn't damage his scalp or pull the hair out. A reprimand and petty revenge more than anything. He was still hoping to be dropped.

Sebastian laughed then. In a way this was easier, Jim being pissy about it, it certainly made him easier to deal with than if he'd been sobbing, or shaking, like some of the first time actors were. He gave a little hiss as Jim grabbed at his hair, slapping him again, "Sarcastic little bastard aren't you? Let's see whether you're any better with a nice red arse." Sitting down on the chair, he wrestled Jim over his lap, making sure the cameras were facing his arse and face, "Not like I've got anything else on today, we can stay here as long as we need to." Most of his words were from the script, but Sebastian was pretty sure they'd be doing this again with hopefully a more tearful and penitent Jim once the first run through was over.

Jim held back a snarl as he wrestled against Sebastian's grip. He /accidentally/ dug his elbow into Sebastian's crotch as he fought. "I'm sorry! Please let me go. I won't tell anyone, I promise. Just let me go. I won't do it again." This was absolutely humiliating but Jim wasn't as worried now that he wasn't being manhandled quite as forcefully. It was easy to stay in the moment during this part because he didn't feel a total loss of control.

Sebastian gave a whine as he felt the elbow in his crotch, his heart plummeting as he watched Magnussen come out of the office, staring at them with an inscrutable expression. And now he was starting to feel angry, angry that Jim was getting him in trouble. Snarling, he tugged Jim's trousers down and gave his cock a grope, still not able to get the other properly still over his lap as he needed. "Oh you wait, you definitely won't be doing it again once I've finished with you."

Jim froze as his shorts were tugged down to his thighs and he felt the other man take hold of his cock in a painful grip. God, /what/ were his lines? "Please don't. I don't want it." Sebastian had changed subtly and Jim couldn't tell exactly what caused it. He dug his fingers into Sebastian's thigh in warning.

Jim was sounding and looking pretty desperate now, and Sebastian was sure as all hell that he was practically committing assault at this point. He stroked Jim's back as he felt the fingers dig into him. "Well you're going to get it kid, so if I were you I'd get used to the idea..." Jim was pretty much in his lap now, just not over it, and Sebastian slapped down against the curves of his ass, ignoring the camera man signaling at him to get Jim's ass up higher so they could actually film it properly. "Now are you going to bend over my lap properly, or do we have to make a fuss about this?" he could feel Magnussen's eyes on them, but didn't dare look at the man's expression.

Jim started shaking with adrenaline, energy bursting from his body in shock waves. His mind was torn between screaming at him to rip the fucker's hands off and the other voice telling him to obey and get it over with. Jim recognized that Sebastian wasn't delivering a line and the tension grew as Jim sat frozen in indecision. "Make me." He bit out. And then he slapped Sebastian's face. His hands were shaking and he didn't hit him hard but the crack sounded loudly in the silent room anyway.

Magnussen raised an eyebrow. Sebastian stared at him, shocked for just a second before giving a big grin, "Right..." Standing up he unceremoniously threw Jim over the table, one hand holding him down in the small of his back and relying on the shorts still round his thighs to keep his legs at least marginally in place. Raising his hand he started, smacking down hard starting at the top of the curves and working his way right down to the top of the thigh, never letting the pressure up for a moment. "I'll ask you that again in a few minutes." he raised his voice over the sound of skin slapping skin, "So you have a think and see if you want to change your mind."

Panic burst like fireworks behind his eyes and he struggled against the hands pinning him. "Like hell." Jim was hurting himself more by struggling against the table but he'd be damned if he was just going to sit there and take it. Jim grit his teeth against the pain as Sebastian's hand came down repeatedly over his arse. "Is this supposed to scare me?" He grit out. Jim kicked out and caught Sebastian's leg, even though his shorts limited his motion and therefor the force.

Sebastian couldn't even look at either the camera-man or Mags, but there was no reason to, really, when he had such a gorgeous little mostly-naked body to look at. Each struggle and buck made Jim's bum slide upwards, catching the lights, and it almost became a game, seeing how many different angles he could paint with red hand-prints. "Nope, this is supposed to warm you up, get you ready for the big guns." He smirked, stopping for a moment to give Jim's bottom a gentle stroke and pet. "Feel like co-operating yet?"

Jim took a minute to just get his breath back and think. He was having a hard time keeping track of what exactly was going on, how much of this was real and what wasn't. Jim grit his teeth at the reminder that they weren't even part way through, and the stuff they /had/ done was shit. An intense feeling of hopelessness washed over him and Jim sagged against the table. He hadn't been beaten into submission, he could go on for a lot longer. But so could they and struggling was just a waste of time and effort. "Fine, do whatever you want. Like I give a fuck." Jim mumbled, closing his eyes against the bright lights and trying to block everything out. He let his body go limp and he let his mind drift off. Jim wouldn't co-operate, nothing could make him do that. But struggling was pointless and it was easier to just let himself be used and go home.

Sebastian found himself slightly disappointed as Jim slumped over the table, and panicked slightly. There was no way that paddling a broken and helpless kid was going to be anything other than brutal and not at all hot - and he'd be required to stay hard throughout. And then to have to fuck what was left of Jim. He gritted his teeth and looked up at Magnussen, who frowned a little and signaled the camera man to stop. "Time. Sebastian - have a cigarette." Sebastian stared at him, annoyed, and then stomped out, while Magnussen made his way over to Jim, patting his sore bottom, "You are a little firebrand. It works."

Jim didn't reply, he just turned around and pulled up his shorts. He was so fucking done with people touching him. "You're a sick fuck. What, it's not enough to manipulate people into bending over for you?" Jim hissed out. He wasn't a smoker but he would have killed for a cigarette. Or a drink. Or a Valium really.

"You asked to bend over. I let you." Magnussen watched him inscrutably, then patted him on the cheek. "Go outside and have a cigarette with Sebastian. When he comes back, he'll paddle you, you'll fight it. If you do it well enough, who knows. That might be all we need to film. Go." He gave Jim a pat on the bottom in the direction of the doors, making sure to pat on an area he seemed to remember Sebastian striking particularly hard.

Jim would have much preferred to huddle up in the dressing room by himself but he did as he was told. He picked up the dressing gown off the floor with shaking hands and covered himself as he walked to the door. Sebastian looked rough but Jim didn't blame him, he was sure he looked awful himself. It was fucking cold outside, even with the robe. Jim wasn't about to ask Sebastian for anything, even a cigarette, he'd just gone outside like he'd been told. He leaned against a wall, mindful of his arse and stared about coolly.

Sebastian looked down at him, not wanting to give him anything addictive at all, and pleased when Jim didn't ask for a smoke. He knew what Magnussen was doing, and knew that ten, maybe even five years ago he'd have refused the smoke break and thrown a cigarette in Mags's face. It seemed like a long time had passed since then. He remembered how
Jim had looked as he'd suddenly slumped over the table and sighed, flicking ash off the end of the cigarette in the direction of Mags's car. "How's your arse, ready for the paddle? You know we're going to have to film the beginning again what with you pissing up your lines."

"Doesn't matter if it's ready or not, does it?" Jim bit out. "I really couldn't give a fuck about what we have to redo." He really shouldn't be taking it out on Sebastian but for all he knew the man was in on this whole scheme and it was very difficult to keep his temper in check. "Magnussen wants me to fight you when we go back in. I'm not going to give you anything, you are going to have to take every inch from me. I'm sure you can," Jim breathed out casually. "Skinny fuck like me hasn't got much chance." Jim turned to look Sebastian dead in the eye, "I'll hurt you if you give me the opportunity. He said if I fight hard enough then he won't let you fuck me. I'd rather not get fucked today. I've already had enough. Doesn't mean shit to anyone. But I'd like to have something left to scrape off the floor when this is done."

Sebastian couldn't help a flicker of relief, knowing he wouldn't just have to beat a passive and broken young man, and he suddenly wondered just who it was Mags was playing here: him or the new kid. In all likelihood both. Stepping forward he stared down at Jim, "Just so you know kid, I spent three years in army training, three years fighting in Afghanistan then two years on an illegal bareknuckle ring, and all of it while doing amateur boxing..." he grinned and gave him a wink. "So good luck. Fight dirty, aim low, and if you even think about damaging my nuts I'll rip your arm off and spank you with that, alright?" Stubbing out the cigarette on the wall he pushed what was left of it back into the packet, patted Jim on the shoulder and headed back inside.

If Sebastian's little speech was supposed to be intimidating, it worked. Jim got roughed up by bullies and posh idiots at university. He wasn't sure what hope he had against someone with Sebastian's credentials but he was determined that if he was getting fucked he wouldn't be helping it along at all. And he swore that Sebastian would be leaving in pain today too. Jim took a final breath of the fresh air before stepping back into the studio reluctantly.

Magnussen was waiting for them both, looking a bit irritated and nodding curtly at the camera-man. "Richard - back over the table, trousers down, picking up where we left off. Moran, let go of him to pick up the paddle. If you can land ten strikes on his backside he's all yours. If he stops you... we work with the footage we have." He waited for them to get into position with a hint of impatience then nodded at the camera-man who was looking sulky and bored. Actors with freedom to move made the camera work a lot more difficult and when Jim had slumped he'd rather been hoping that things were almost done. "Fine. Now. Roll."

Jim sprang into action, moving to the other side of the table so that it sat between them. He almost tripped on his trousers so he adjusted them so his legs weren't locked together so tightly. Jim didn't have a hope of really overpowering Sebastian unless he somehow managed to knock him unconscious, and that was probably not what Magnussen meant. So Jim put distance between them to start, if he could avoid the man and his paddle then he would have a fighting chance.

Sebastian just about had time to look up at Magnussen in shock before the camera started and he rearranged his face to film. Inwardly he was seething, but turned obediently to get the paddle, giving a growl as Jim moved. "You get back here you little shit..." he snapped, snapping the paddle menacingly against the table.

Jim didn't reply, just bared his teeth at Sebastian. The scrip was mostly just "please don't" "I'm sorry" and "you're hurting me." He didn't think that would be of much use here. The sound the paddle made against the table worked at unnerving him though, he'd never been hit with anything like that before and wasn't sure it wouldn't break something if he was hit hard enough. Jim would evade Sebastian for as long as possible, and then when the man caught him Jim would use their proximity to inflict as much damage as possible. He watched the man calculatingly, searching for weaknesses and trying to predict his movements. It was difficult not to be intimidated in the face of a large man with what was essentially a weapon while Jim was half naked and he was fully dressed still. The power imbalance was heavy but Jim was always good at turning odds in his favor.

Watching the feral little growl he got in return made something stir in Sebastian for the first time since they'd started shooting. Although on paper he had the easy job, wielding the paddle safely and efficiently to land a precision strike against Jim's arse wasn't going to be easy with him squirming around everywhere and Sebastian knew that Mags would take a very dim view if he accidently bruised or injured Jim in any other way. He could hardly just hit the boy with the paddle until he stayed still. He jerked slightly to the left and right a few times, just to watch Jim jump and then gave a growl and lunged around the table.

Jim ducked and rolled underneath the table, kicking sand up as he went. He had a tiny bit of protection underneath there and he used the opportunity to kick Sebastian's knee out.

Sebastian swore, reaching down under the table and grabbing Jim's ankle squeezing it tight as he practically hauled the boy out, trying to shift his body to get a decent shot at his arse, "Keep the fuck still... don't make me hurt you."

Jim grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it right in Sebastian's face. He knew that blinding the other man might help his chances of not getting hit, or it would just insure he was hit somewhere dangerous. It was a risk he was willing to take. He struck Sebastian as hard as he could with the back of his hand and crawled under the table again, trying to make it to the other side.

The sand in the face was a familiar old trick, just not one Sebastian had been expecting on a porn shoot. He stumbled backwards, wiping his eyes, as Jim scooted under the table. Then he crouched down, looking at Jim hiding like a cornered cat and shook his head. "You just made a big mistake punk..."

The camera guestured helplessly at them, turning to Magnussen, "Cam I can't shoot them if he's under the fucking table."

Mags just gave a little smile. "It's fine. Leave them."

Jim tried to keep his breathing from getting too fast but it was difficult when his heart was thudding in his chest so loudly that he could hardly hear anything else. He felt cornered and that made him desperate. He made it out the other side and then flipped the table over onto its side, hoping that it would at least crush Sebastian's toes or a hand.

Pretty much everyone in the studio jumped as the table went over, and Sebastian jumped back, closing his eyes briefly as he felt a huge shot of adrenaline go through him. This was not the time to go into angry tiger mode. Growling, he grabbed the table and threw it practically off the set, the paddle spinning in his hand into more of a weapon grip and then lunged at Jim again, tackling him to the floor.

Jim fought and shrieked in indignation as he was tackled to the floor and the air was knocked out of him. Sebastian had him pinned to the floor heavily and it was difficult to get a breath in. Jim snarled and arched up against the other man and kissed him hard. He felt Sebastian freeze above him and Jim used the moment to bite down hard on his lower lip and he ripped it open, blood dripped into his mouth and face but he didn't care. He was /not/ getting fucked today. Jim wasn't thinking about why he was fighting and he'd long forgotten about Magnussen and the camera crew. All he was aware of was the hulking figure pressing him to the ground and the knowledge that if he stopped fighting for a moment then the man would hurt him.

Sebastian had dropped the paddle when he'd tackled Jim and he was about to pick it up again when suddenly Jim's lips were pressed against his and he froze in confusion. The next thing he knew there was a blinding flash of pain in his lower lip and he could feel the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. Giving a deep growling moan he wrapped his arms around Jim's body on the floor and kissed him hard again, the taste of Jim and the blood in his mouth while his knee pressed up between Jim's legs, pressing against his crotch and rubbing gently.

"Let go of me you fuck," Jim started shaking, Sebastian wasn't just pinning him to the floor but holding him tight against him and that didn't leave Jim with any room to move. Then Sebastian was kissing him and Jim didn't have enough /air./ He tried squirming away but when that proved fruitless and his brain shrieked at him for oxygen Jim reached his free arm out, looking for something, anything. His hand came in contact with the paddle and he grabbed the handle tightly before swinging it at Sebastian's head. The angle was all wrong and he wasn't able to hit him very hard with his arm half pinned but it was enough that Sebastian broke their kiss and Jim desperately sucked in air, his body screaming in relief.

Sebastian groaned as the paddle connected with his head, coming back down to earth with a bump. For a moment he'd been swept away in something crazy, and frenzied hurried sexy kiss in a crazy world, and now suddenly he found himself pinning down a young terrified looking man who was currently assaulting him with a paddle. Rubbing his head he squatted back, giving Jim some space, and muttering "fuck..." A drink seemed like a good option right now, he was pretty sure he was still at least partially hung over.

Jim held completely still, afraid that if he tried to get away Sebastian would hold him down again. As it was, Sebastian was straddling his lap and Jim didn't have a hope of bucking him off. Blood dripped from the man's lip and he thought Sebastian might need stitches. Good. He still had the paddle in his hand and he was ready to use it the moment it looked like Sebastian would grab him again. His breathing wasn't quite so frantic but he was still panting in exertion and fear.

Sebastian looked down at Jim dully, wondering what he was meant to do next, and jumping as he heard Magnussen giving a slow clap, his eyes cold and distant. "Good work. Look at that? You've got him disarmed and frozen. Not bad for a first day. Go shower and change, your next script will be waiting for you." He nodded at a random lackey, "Police break in, he'll be the second. Get Darren as the officer. Moran, my office." And with that he tapped the camera man on the head and then walked into the office, leaving Moran breathing harshly, still crouching over Jim.

Jim covered his face with his hands and took a deep shuddering breath, determined not to cry in front of all these people. He'd never felt anything like the pure relief that flooded him now and set him shaking. He imagined this is what people felt like who were pardoned while facing down a firing squad or a person who stepped into traffic and narrowly avoided being hit by a car. This felt less like shooting an adult film and more like being thrown into a coliseum. "Get off me please." He muttered and dragged his hands across his face. All he wanted right now was to shower and wash the blood off his face and rinse it out of his mouth. He wanted to be in his own clothes alone in his dorm room and sitting at the window seat that looks out onto the quad. Jim didn't feel victorious, he felt tired and sore. He wasn't going to think about his next script and how he'd only put off the inevitable. He just couldn't right now.

Sebastian looked down at him, face blank, and then stood up, ignoring Jim and heading straight into Mags's office.

Jim exhaled in relief as Sebastian climbed off of him and left. He stood up, letting that stupid fucking paddle fall to the floor, and Jim picked up the robe and marched to the showers with his back straight. He refused to show anymore weakness when the ordeal was over now. Jim ripped the shorts off and hissed as the material scrapped against the sensitive skin of his ass. He turned the water on very hot and sat on the floor while the water rushed over him, too tired to stand yet.

The meeting was a good half hour long, and when it finished Sebastian stormed into the showers, jumping as he saw Jim, still sitting under the spray. After the meeting he'd just had he wasn't too inclined to be particularly sympathetic, so he stripped off and stood next to Jim, taking in the heat of the shower and rinsing his mouth out in the spray, spitting it down the drain.

Jim had zoned out completely and didn't snap out of it until he felt the water stop pounding on his skin. He looked up and Sebastian was standing naked with his back to him, scrubbing himself off. Jim stood quickly, slipping on the tiles. "Sorry, I'll—go." Jim couldn't look at the other man, who was obviously angry.

"Stay as long as you want, although fuck knows why you'd want to." Sebastian managed bitterly. Sighing he turned to look at Jim, "Get some cream on your arse and don't get drunk tonight. You're an assistant police officer tomorrow, all you've got to do it look cute, take your clothes off and maybe give a hand job. Nothing like today." He grabbed at some shower gel, scrubbing it hard against his skin. "Enjoy the evening."

"Are you—are you /angry/ with me?" Jim could not believe this was the case, what had he done to piss Moran off? He had no idea what made the other man cold to Jim but he wasn't amused. What the fuck did he have to be angry about?

"What?" Sebastian turned around to look at him, his bottom lip swollen and sore, "Fuck would I be angry at you for? Course not, you did pretty well. Heh. Sand in the eyes, where did a little twerp like you learn that?" Tilting his head back he let the water stream into his face, running hands through his hair before straightening up. "Just giving you some advice, that's all, although face it, I'm the last damn person who should be giving any."

Jim snorted, "Where do you /think/ little twerps learn underhanded fighting?" Jim leaned back against the wall, not entirely comfortable with their nudity but he figured a safe low pressure environment was a good way to thicken his skin. "I don't know, it seems like you've been doing this for a while. No reasons why your advice shouldn't be valuable. I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing, Magnussen just told me I'd be making adult films and threw me on set." Jim wrinkled his nose and scowled, "Why is it that I can't drink tonight, exactly?"

"Really? That's surprising, because to me you were acting like a god damn expert." Sebastian snorted, but in reality Jim had done pretty well for a novice - and had clearly impressed Magnussen given the way the man had responded. "They're going to splice today into a blooper reel - you know - Hot Young Twink Panics On First Time Spanking!" he spat the words out bitterly, scrubbing through his hair again. "Drinking will dull your mind, make you forget, and make you feel better. It'll become an automatic reaction: work, pain, feeling shite, getting ratarsed, and you'll do it every time. Not healthy." Turning the shower off Sebastian grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to get dressed then go get sloshed."

Jim rolled his eyes at Sebastian's sarcastic remarks about his performance. "Fantastic." He started drying off and pulled jeans and his cardigan on over his head. "Right, I have work to get done before classes on Monday anyway. Drinking until I can't see straight might actually fuck me up enough for a 'B.'" Jim joked.

"Yeah?" Sebastian looked at him sideways, "Look if you're so smart, why are you -" he bit off the end of the sentence. He knew why. Magnussen. It was a sort of unspoken rule between the actors - don't ask don't tell. That way there could be a slight pretence that this was enjoyable, that some of them were really getting their rocks off. He didn't need to hear that Jim had a dying old mother and this was the only way to pay for her nursing home. Whatever Mags was holding over Jim, it should remain a secret. "Tomorrow will be easier." He said finally, "You and Darren get to fuck me up. And learn your lines this time or I'll do far more than just chase you with a paddle."

Jim flushed and looked away, glad that Sebastian hadn't finished his question. He scowled at the floor when he heard about what they would be doing tomorrow. "What the fuck makes him think that I want to hurt anyone? Getting fucked up is one thing but I'm not interested in actively participating in any of this shit." Jim felt anxiety climb again, despite the shower.

Sebastian had to laugh at that, tugging his jeans on and turning to grin at Jim, "Aww... don't worry Richard, I'm sure somewhere out there is a porn-script where a hot little twink sits on a bench and scowls at people - and when you finally get to do that one you'll be happy. Darren'll do most of it, he loves that shit. And, fucked up bastard that I am, so do I. You just stroke my dick occasionally and for fucks sake do what Darren tells you. Mags thinks you're the shit at the moment, so don't ruin that."

Jim scowled at the teasing but he felt better. "As long as you don't mind, I guess it's fine." Sebastian's description of Darren made Jim nervous but so long as he didn't have to do any scenes where Darren focused on him, Jim was okay. "How does he think I'm the shit? What happened to 'Twink panics on first time spanking?'"

"Well that's all he can do with that tape isn't it? It wasn't exactly hot erotica, you hiding under a table while I twatted about with a paddle." Sebastian rolled his eyes and tugged his hoodie over his head. "Mags thinks it's hilarious you got the paddle off me. He was that emotional he almost smiled. Certainly made him hard enough. Maybe he's just fucking with you, who knows, but I thought we'd be re-doing that scene until your lines were perfect, your arse was raw, and your little tight hole had been well and truly fuck open. Instead he was happy to watch you run around naked flinging the furniture around."

Jim didn't really have a response to that except to flush. He didn't believe Sebastian about Magnussen's thinking well of him being a good thing. "That's what drew him to me in the first place," he said dully. "Said he liked watching me 'rage against fate' or some bullshit like that. Whatever the fuck that means. I think he just gets bored."

Sebastian grabbed his bag and shrugged, "It means he thinks he can make money off you, s'all he cares about. Sleep well, and don't forget your script." He bent down to give Jim a kiss on the top of the head as he left, swinging his holdall over his shoulder and whistling as he headed down the stairs.

Jim blinked heavily, emotion rising up in response to something gentle in the face of all this shit going on in his life. He couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him kindly like that. Jim cleared his throat and shook his head as he left the bathroom and finally headed home.

Sebastian headed straight out as soon as he'd dumped his bags at home, heading for the nearest club. He wasn't in a bar mood, he wanted heavy beats and loud music and clear alcohol that was easy to pour down his throat. The bouncer, waved him in with a "easy Moran - loose a fight?" Seb grinned licking his lower lip, "Nah ... overenthusiastic sex!" He heard the bouncers snort of disbelief and stumbled inside, wanting to empty his mind completely.