The Telemachus Story Archive

The Hollywood Agency 1
Part 2 - Chapter 2 "First get an Agent"
By Dylan (Illustrated by Dylan)
Email: boy18cute@yahoo.com
Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Dylan_Boy18cute

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The Hollywood Agency Book -1-

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Chapter 2: "First get an Agent!"

The next day Callum was sitting in John Meyers' office again, and they were still talking to get acquainted. The powerful agent was quietly listening in to the story the naive boy born in the mid-west was telling. He was drinking in the boyish features of the 22 year old jock.

Meyers marveled at the sight in front of him, the promises the tight t-shirt gave to the eye of the beholder.

Meyers had watched the boy move as he walked into the office and sat down. The boy's legs were as impressive as his arms, and he had a small round bubble butt. And, maybe the most promising part, he had a perfectly displayed bulge in the tight jeans he wore.

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Meyers felt his own dick pulse in his pants. Callum needed to be trained, needed to be used, needed to be shown the ropes and the tricks of the trade. The years of working hard in the fields and in the gym would soon pay off.

Callum had been drinking the Cappuccino Meyers' assistant Troy had served, and Meyer knew the boy's brain was nicely prepared to plant some powerful suggestions in the young man's subconscious mind. The drugs Troy had used were strong but not meant to knock someone out. They only made a man playful and open, perfectly groomed for anything the Boss wanted to communicate. Callum’s brain was like a dry sponge, open to absorb all the Boss wanted him to know.

Now the ball was in Meyers' corner. The Agent lead the conversation, and Callum knew he had to listen up when an elder spoke. The Agent had instinctively known that the boy would be willing to submit, and as Callum himself had told him, was open to trust the agents expertise.

Callum eagerly listened when Mr. Meyers told him that he had never seen a young man as good-looking as Callum, right of the bat, as he came through his door. In all his years as an agent, Meyers said, such a raw diamond simply had walked in to the front door of the office.

Meyers expressed surprise that the boy wasn't already under a modeling contract.

Callum looked flustered as he expressed one of his major reservations, and as he started to speak, he revealed more of his secrets to the man and the cameras.

"Well, Mr. Meyers," he began, "To be honest with you, I always realized that I was really good-looking and I've certainly given some thought into modeling. It's just that... well, it's just that it seemed to me to be a pretty faggy job."

There was a flicker of an understanding smile on Mr. Meyers' face. "I take it you're straight, Callum," he replied.

"One hundred percent, sir," Callum immediately affirmed, a little upset that Mr. Meyers had even felt the need to ask the question. "I got nothing to do with perverts. I'm definitely one hundred percent male."

Mr. Meyers was now grinning broadly. He allowed himself a little giggle before he went on:

"I'll tell you the truth, Callum. I can't stand faggots either. But, of course, there are laws now that prohibit discrimination and I've got to be careful. And, I'll be honest with you. There is a lot of their kind in modeling, not only as models but in a lot of other positions, too - photographers, set designers, to say nothing of make-up artists. Hell, almost all the make-up artists around here are dick-guzzlers. No, you're right. If you're going to work in modeling, you're bound to be in frequent contact with a lot of queers. But you have to be able to control yourself when you are. That's just the way it is. If you can't handle that, male modeling isn't for you."

At this point, Mr. Meyers leaned forward and gave Callum a hard stare.

"But I also want you to understand that there are a lot of guys in this business who are just as straight as you or me. Good-looking guys, like yourself, who are just trying to make a living with the God-given talents they are fortunate enough to be blessed with and who are as unhappy as you are that the public perception of male models has been so tarred by the antics and activities of a flamboyant few.”

Callum seemed to take this well. Meyers saw how the young man relaxed, and he continued:

“Sure, some people will think you're gay just because you're a model, but those people are ignorant losers whose opinions are driven more by jealousy over your good looks and your success than by any objective analysis of the real world of modeling.”

By the thought someone might think he could be gay, Callum tightened his muscles again without thinking, and Meyers slightly changed his tone, now again giving the young man the reassurance he evidently needed to go on:

“The question you have to answer for yourself, Callum, is whether you're going to let the perceptions of those losers keep you from pursuing a career that you're obviously perfectly suited for."

Meyers ended his speech by looking the new model over with a fatherly face, an expression that perfectly hid how he had to restrain himself from jumping the dumb boy and fuck the shit out of him.

Mr. Meyers' little speech struck a right chord in Callum. It made him remember all the times in the past that he'd been called a loser. Listening to Mr. Meyers, Callum realized that if he pursued a modeling career, if he exploited his strengths, he wouldn't be the one who was the real loser.

If he could make a success of modeling he'd be showing them all who the real loser was. And it wasn't him.

Callum looked Mr. Meyers straight in the face and responded with force, again tightening his muscles without thinking, making fists:

"No, sir. I'm not going to let those losers keep me from making a success of myself. I want to pursue a career as a model. It's just..." he added in a more uncertain voice, "it's just I'm not sure how to go about doing it."

"But that's why you're here, Callum," Mr. Meyers quickly responded.

"I do know how to go about doing it. If you agree to have me represent you, I'll do everything in my power and use all of my contacts to see that you have a successful modeling career. The question now is whether you're willing to put yourself totally in my hands."

"Yes, Mr. Meyers, I am," Callum immediately replied, thrilled that a man like this would be willing to take him on as a client. That was an incredible ego-boost. But Callum was also worried that he wouldn't be able to afford Mr. Meyers' services.

"The problem, Mr. Meyers," he continued, "is that I don't have any money to pay you. I'm a student at a local community college, sharing a small place with two guys, having no real income and there's no way my parents would lend me any money. Certainly not to pursue a modeling career."

Mr. Meyers immediately sought to assure Callum that his financial situation would not be a deal-breaker.

"Callum," he said soothingly, "There's no need to worry about that. This agency works with a number of models, like yourself, who have limited financial means when they're starting out. That's why we've always made it a practice to cover all the out-of-pocket costs that a model might normally be expected to pay for at other agencies - like those involved in procuring a photo portfolio, for example.”

Callum eagerly listened to the Agent.

“0ther agencies are reluctant to do this because they're afraid that a number of their models will wash out before they make enough to even cover those costs. However, because we carefully screen our prospective models and because we maintain a very close working relationship with numerous hiring agents in town, we can make these up-front expenditures fully confident that they'll be recouped out of our model's future earnings.”

Meyers sat back in his chair. He made a pause to give Callum time to think, give him time to expect the bad news that the boy seemed to wait for. Then he said something that was surprisingly mundane and simple to understand, no bad news at all for Callum.

“Naturally, we charge a premium for this service but that's all spelled out in our contract terms."

Mr. Meyers eyed Callum closely. Again his face did not show the fantasies involving the boy’s lips, his dick, his virginal ass and all the other body features Callum would use to make it big in the entertainment industry.

Meyers knew the boy would do anything he was told to do.

"I think I'm a good judge of prospective talent, Callum, and I'm prepared, right now, to sign an agreement to represent you. I think you have the potential to make it really big in this business and I'm prepared to act on that belief. The final question then, Callum, is: Do you want JM Modeling Agency to represent you?"

Callum did not even think for a second.

"Oh, yes, sir. I do," He responded enthusiastically. "I definitely do, sir."

"Okay, then," Mr. Meyers smiled, "I will tell to Troy prepare a standard representation contract and then the two of us will go over the terms."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Meyers," Callum hastened to agree. "That would be fine.” He had taken yesterday night to think about the possibilities the Agency gave him and was sure he was in the best hands.

The Agent flashed another smile at Callum and reached down and picked up the phone. He pressed the intercom button and a moment later was talking to his secretary.

"Troy," he instructed, "would you prepare a standard contract for Mr..." and here he paused as he rummaged through some papers on his desk before finding the one he was looking for "..for Mr.

Masters? When it's ready, just bring it in."

He hung up the phone and looked back at Callum with a knowing smile. He had decided to throw his secretaries image with Callum under the bus to gain the boys trust in him.

"Troy's a real fairy but he's also a very competent secretary. Best one I've ever had. He's also useful in providing cover when I turn down prospective gay clients. If they try to bitch that I wouldn't take them on because they were gay, all I have to do is point to Troy."

Callum was pleasantly surprised how quickly Mr. Meyers was bringing him into his confidences.

"You don't represent fags?" he asked, conspiratorially.

"Not if I can help it," Meyers replied easily. "I like to represent real men, like yourself, Callum."

Meyers face now took on a more serious expression:

"However, if you would take a bit of advice from me, Callum, I'd go easy on the 'fag' and 'fairy' references from now on. Like I said, there are a lot of those guys in the business and if you get a reputation of being homophobic it could adversely affect your career. They could screw up your make-up or lighting - stuff like that. They could make your life a living hell." "Oh, I'm sorry Sir," Callum immediately apologized. "It's just that's how we always described those guys at home. I've always known they didn't like it, but I never really gave a shit before. It wasn't like I was hanging out with them. But, as you say, there's a lot of fags... I mean gays... in the business and I don't want them to screw up my career. I'll try to watch what I say Sir, particularly around them."

"That'd be very wise, Callum," Mr. Meyers agreed. He was pleased that Callum had called him “Sir”.

There was a slight pause while Meyers just sat there looking at Callum. The young man did not see the raging hardon in the Agents expensive trousers, fighting to get out of a tight jockstrap, hidden behind his huge desk. Then, as if coming out of a trance, he shook his head.

"Well, while we're waiting for Troy to get the contract prepared, I should see what we have to work with. Would you stand up, Callum?"

Callum immediately got to his feet. When Mr. Meyers asked him to remove his shirt, Callum quickly complied, happy to be given the opportunity to show off his muscular physique.

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Twenty minutes later, Callum was still standing in front of Mr. Meyers, though he felt considerably more uncomfortable than he had at first. After he had removed his shirt and Mr. Meyers had complimented him on his pecs and abs, the man had asked Callum to remove his shoes and jeans. Callum quickly did as he was told and then spent a couple of minutes assuming various poses that highlighted different muscle groupings.

Mr. Meyers seemed generally pleased, though he did hint that he thought that Callum's calves and thighs could do with a little more work. It wasn't until the man asked Callum to remove his socks that Callum had cause to be concerned. He couldn't understand why Mr. Meyers would need to see his feet.

The experienced Agent sensed Callum's reaction. He immediately explained why it was necessary.

"There's a lot of work available in swimwear modeling and most of those photo-shoots are going to be set up at a beach. The model would, of course, be barefoot and it's important for me to know if there's any small deformity that might make such a shoot inappropriate for you."

Callum felt a little foolish for not having thought of that himself, so he quickly removed his socks.

He even tried to make a little joke, saying: “See, no athletes feet”

Still, he had to admit that he felt a little uncomfortable when Mr. Meyers dragged a chair up to where the model was standing.

Mr. Meyers told Callum to raise each foot in succession while closely examining them, even putting his fingers between each of Callum's toes and running his hands up and down each sole and heel.

It felt weird to have another dude playing with his feet, but Callum tried to hide his discomfort.

After some time Mr. Meyers finished his close examination of Callum's big boy feet and returned the chair to it’s place along the wall. He surprised the boy as he ordered Callum to drop his boxers, and the boy wasn't able to hide his reluctance.

Mr. Meyers picked up on this right away.

"Do we have a problem, Callum?" he asked, with a note of disapproval creeping into his voice, just enough to give the young man a slight shiver.

"Well," Callum stammered, "it's just... it's just I don't know why you have to see me naked. It's not like I'd be interested in working in porn."

"Oh, I understand," Mr. Meyers replied, a grim look suddenly appearing on his face. He stared at Callum's crotch for a long moment - long enough for Callum to become self-conscious. Then he looked up at Callum's face, his own face now wearing a mask of sympathy.

"You know, boy, " he began, speaking quietly but in a fatherly tone again, "it can be embarrassing having a small dick. But it's not the end of the world. A lot of women swear that it isn't the size that matters, it's how you use it."

He took a step back and his gaze returned to Callum's crotch.

"Just how small is it, Callum? Two, three inches hard?"

"No. No," Callum objected immediately, feeling his face getting red.

"That's not it. I've got a big dick. At least nine inches," he added defensively. "It's just that I'd feel funny standing naked in a room with just another guy in it."

Hearing his response, Meyers face hardened perceptively.

He looked at Callum and then returned to the other side of his desk and sat down. The young man had no idea who much the man savored the situation, and Mr. Meyers face did not give away his true feelings. His dick was still painfully hard and he thanked the fact that his tight jockstrap held it in place without tenting his trousers.

"I've obviously misjudged you, Callum," he began.

"I thought you had what it takes to become a successful male model. But if you're too shy and self-conscious to even expose yourself to your own agent, there's no way you could hope to be a success in the modeling world.”

He paused, drinking in the almost naked boy’s rising discomfort and insecurity.

“Most photographers would insist on seeing you naked before they would even consider hiring you. And during a fashion show, models have to change outfits in just seconds and frequently have to strip down in rooms with dozens of other people in them, many of them total strangers. If you're so insecure that you can't even strip in front of me, there's no way you could be a successful model."

The man gave Callum another long, appraising look.

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"Why don't you just put your clothes back on," he finally said. "I don't want to force you to do something you don't want to do. At least we found out early that you just weren't cut out to be a model."

"Please, Mr. Meyers," Callum now pleaded, suddenly afraid that he had just fucked up his first real opportunity to make something out of his life. "Please, Sir, give me a second chance."

Mr. Meyers sat back after he seemingly had wanted to get up and show Callum out. He was satisfied he had made Callum submit and call him “Sir” again. The boy reached down and yanked his boxers off his waist, letting them drop to his ankles.

"I'll do whatever you tell me to do. Just give me a second chance."

He stood in front of Mr. Meyers. He was completely naked now, his big dick hanging down between his legs - and it was a big dick, just like Callum had claimed.

John Meyers couldn't help but notice that the naked kid was even better looking than in jeans.

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“This kid is going to be a fucking gold-mine,” he thought. He allowed his face to soften, to make Callum relax, while he felt his dick harden again, well hidden behind his desk, painfully caught in the tight cage of his jockstrap.

"Turn around, Callum," he ordered.

As the boy did so, obviously relieved that Mr. Meyers was going to keep him as a client, The Agent needed all his willpower to keep from whistling out loud. The kid had a spectacular ass. A real bubble-butt. It hadn't been just the jeans that formed his ass. There wasn't a thing about this kid that wasn't marketable - not once he was properly trained and developed.

And training was exactly what John Meyers intended to do. Callum needed to be broken in slowly, and Mr. Meyers decided to make him his project. In the end, the boy would be worth millions.

"Fine, Callum," Meyers said once the boy was facing him again. He did not bother to make the model dress again.

"There are only a few things we have to do a little work on, a little fine-tuning you might say. Physically you obviously have what it takes to be a first-class male model. The question is whether we can provide you with the emotional and mental toughness required to be a real success in the modeling world."

The Agent paused in thought for a brief moment. Then he looked at Callum again.

"Why don't you fold up your clothes and place them on the little table in the corner?" he said in a tone that conveyed his statement was not so much a question as an order.

Callum gave the man a quizzical look but did as he'd been instructed. When he was finished, he saw that Mr. Meyers was waving him back towards the desk. Callum returned and stood in front of the man, trying to ignore the fact that he was completely naked.

The man easily read the naked young man's unease.

"I think, Callum," he began, "that one of the first things we have to work on is your shyness. You have an attractive body, a very attractive body, and you shouldn't be embarrassed about showing it off. Particularly not if you hope to be a famous model. So, for the rest of the time you're here, I want you to remain naked. In the future, when we're meeting here, I want you to strip down on entering the room. It's obvious that you'll be uncomfortable at first but I hope that eventually you'll be able to overcome your excessive modesty. If you can become used to being naked around me, hopefully it will make you less inhibited with respect to other people. And that will certainly be a boost to your career."

While Callum wasn't particularly pleased with the prospect of spending the rest of his meeting with his new manager in the nude, to say nothing of being naked in future sessions, he didn't want to upset the man by voicing any objections, especially in view of how close he had just come to aborting their relationship just minutes before.

Mr. Meyers obviously knew the business.

Callum felt lucky that the man was taking an interest in his career. The least he could do was follow the Agent's suggestions without questioning every little thing that made Callum uncomfortable.

So he quietly stood in front of the table, every inch of his body on display, trying very hard not to appear as embarrassed as he felt, as Mr. Meyers explained how they were going to proceed to develop Callum into a top-ranked model.

"Now," Mr. Meyers began, "it's obvious, looking at your body, that there are a couple of different strategies we could pursue in marketing you. To be honest, considering the state of your development, you're probably too muscular for runway work. Most designers generally like their models on the thin side and you're just too well-developed already. But you definitely have the type of body that's in demand for underwear and swimsuit shoots. And we also should consider the possibility of presenting you as a physique model, though that would require more work on your part."

Callum wasn't surprised when Mr. Meyers mentioned marketing him as a swimwear or underwear model - that was pretty much what he had visualized in his own mind. But he hadn't considered being a 'physique model.' He kind of liked the way that sounded - real masculine. Despite his determination to simply let his manager present his own ideas and suggestions, Callum couldn't help but interrupt.

"What type of work does a physique model get, Sir? I mean, I think I have a pretty good physique and I'd certainly like to get a job where I'd be able to exploit it."

Mr. Meyers smiled at the boy, obviously not upset by the interruption and the fact the boy had been so respectful, again addressing him as “Sir”. He certainly saw the possibilities for the already respectful, later maybe submissive model.

"Well, Callum," he explained, "a physique model generally appears in magazines aimed at a male readership that is interested in developing their bodies. Physique models are used in photo-spreads that accompany articles explaining how various exercises or exercise regimens will enhance physical development of specific areas of the body. They are also used by advertisers who put ads in those magazines and who want to make a subliminal appeal to the readers that, if they use the products being advertised, they could obtain a similar body without any of the real work the model went through in developing his physique."

Meyers choose his words carefully. The word ‘used’ as in ‘Your body will be used’ was a subliminal order he gave the boy’s sub-conscious mind.

Mr. Meyers leaned back in his chair and closely watched Callum as he continued. He gave the boy the chance to understand that he would be used in ads for fitness shakes and workout machines.

Then he went on:

"There's also another lucrative side of the business for established physique models. Many models are willing to pose for photographers who will then market their pictures as works of art, you might say. Many of these, of course, are full-nudes aimed at the gay market."

Callum's discomfort was palpable. He seemed to be near to squirming in discomfort, wringing his hands.

"I don't know, Mr. Meyers," he began, tentatively, "I don’t know if I'm okay with posing nude for a camera. It kinda makes my skin crawl to think of one of those perverts....I mean gays... jerking himself off to one of my photos, particularly one in which I'm naked. It makes me want to puke just thinking about it."

Mr. Meyers again looked at Callum with a slight, perfectly timed frown.

"Callum, it seems to me that you have somewhat misplaced priorities. I've already explained to you that I certainly share your opinion of homosexuals but the bottom line in this business is that the gay audience is a significant component of the market which designers and companies are hoping to tap. If, as you've assured me a number of times, you want to exploit your good looks, you have to be realistic and recognize that to fully do that you have to appeal to gay men as well as to straight women. Regardless of what you may think of homosexuals or how they make you feel, you have to be able to mask your disgust or you simply won't be fully successful as a male model.”

Meyers made a slight pause and looked at the young mans face. He had used big words and spouted the long sentence without taking a breath to solidify the impact. He did not plan to give Callum time to think as he continued:

"Besides, what do you care if some sick dude jerks himself off looking at one of your photos? How the hell does that negatively affect you? It's not like you're there while someone is watching it. The truth is: You should be happy if those guys get off on your pictures. If it means they'll buy more of your photos, you should be willing to sell your hot body. The photographers will notice that and you'll end up with more work and more exposure. And more money. And isn't that the bottom line?"

Somewhat abashed that Mr. Meyers had been forced to again lecture him on his attitude, Callum hastened to assure the man that he would try to change his ways. Meyers remained stoic, but inside he wanted to chuckle about the naive young man who fell for each and every trap.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Meyers. You're absolutely right. I need to keep a focus on my ultimate goals. I'll try to work on hiding my true feelings. I really will."

Meyers face showed only the slightest easing. "That's something we'll have to work on here, too." Just then, right on key, there was a knock on the door. "Come in, Troy," Mr. Meyers responded, a knowing smirk now crossing his face.

Troy flounced in, his effeminate persona on full display.

"I have the contract ready, Mr. Meyers," he said as he walked through the door and then came to an immediate halt as he took in the fact that Callum was standing stark naked in front of Mr. Meyers desk.

"Oh, isn't he a studly one," Troy cooed, ogling Callum's nude body.

Callum turned scarlet and instinctively moved to cover up his genitals with both hands. This brought an immediate response from Mr. Meyers, who had waited for it like a Cougar for his prey.

"Move your hands away, Callum. You have nothing to be shy or embarrassed about. Remember that. We were just discussing how you need to be able to take compliments and accept the attention you'll be receiving as a male model. This is as good a time as any for you to begin confronting your shyness."

Callum swallowed hard and then moved his hands back to his sides. If anything, his color deepened and spread down to his shoulders and chest.

"That's a good boy, Callum," Mr. Meyers praised the boy. "Now why don't you turn and face Troy so that he can get a good view of your body."

Biting his lip, Callum did as he'd been instructed. He had never felt so naked and vulnerable in his life, standing there, displaying his naked body as the effeminate queen giggled and squealed.

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"Oh, he's so butch, Sir," Troy lisped. "I bet he'd be a real bull in bed." Then, his eyes lighting on Callum's cock, he almost shrieked, "Look at his cock! Maybe I should make that a horse, he's sure hung like one."

Callum could not remember being more embarrassed in his life as he stood naked, his manhood fully exposed, while Troy just gushed on about how hot Callum was. He wanted nothing more than to smash his fist into the leering faggot's face but he just stood there, as Mr. Meyers wanted him to, letting the little queer boy take in the view of the Agencies' new sexy model's magnificent body.

Callum knew Troy would doubtless recall that image later that evening for only God knew what use in his twisted imagination.

Mr. Meyers was watching the interaction of Callum and his secretary with scarcely disguised amusement. He let it continue for a few minutes before he finally intervened:

"The contract, Troy," he said, holding out his hand.

"Oh, yes, Sir," Troy immediately replied, reluctantly yanking his eyes from Callum's body and turning towards Mr. Meyers.

"Here it is, sir. The standard contract. I'm sure you'll find everything in order." "I'm sure I will, Troy," Mr. Meyers responded. "That will be all for now, Troy," he added, dismissing his secretary.

Troy gave Callum's body one last lingering gaze and then headed towards the door. But as he passed Callum, a hand reached out and took a firm grasp of one of Callum's butt-cheeks.

"Sonofabitch!" Callum shouted as he whirled around angrily, but Troy was already walking through the doorway. He turned around, gave Callum a wink, and shut the door.

"Sir," Callum immediately complained, sputtering in his fury as he swiveled back to face Mr. Meyers, "that fucking faggot groped me. He fucking grabbed my ass."

He had seen the secretaries big dick formed a tube in his tight jeans, but he did not mention it. Mr. Meyers should not think he looked at another man's bulge.

"So?" Mr. Meyers replied in a dismissive tone which conveyed that he was beginning to become tired of Callum's antics. "He grabbed your fucking ass. Big deal. I'm sure the same thing has happened a hundred times before when you were in a locker room with your buddies. Am I right, Callum?"

"Well, yeah," Callum admitted, nervously shifting his weight back and forth on his feet, wilting under Mr. Meyers' disapproving stare. "But that was different."

"Why? Because they were straight - or at least you thought they were straight?"

"Well, yes. But they were definitely straight. I don't have any faggot friends I can tell you that. And they were just fooling around. There wasn't anything sexual about it."

"You mean unlike what happened with you and Troy?"

"Yes, exactly."

"So you felt a sexual reaction when Troy grabbed your butt?" Mr. Meyers' face did not show his emotions as he set a trap for the naive boy.

"Me? Me?" Callum responded, incredulously. "No fucking way. That's not what I meant."

"Oh, so you assume Troy was sexually turned on by you?"

"He was practically drooling, Mr. Meyers," Callum replied, not understanding why he was now on the defensive. "You saw that."

"What I saw was a young man, of a somewhat fey disposition, who went out of his way to compliment you on how you look. I don't see how that's a proper reason for getting upset."

"He grabbed my ass," Callum complained with some heat.

"Yes, he did, Callum. But you just told me that if one of your buddies did the same thing you wouldn't take offense. It seems to me that the problem isn't in Troy's actions but in how you chose to interpret them. This is precisely the thing we were just talking about, Callum. If you keep over-reacting to every imagined transgression, you'll never be a success in male modeling. It's as simple as that."

Callum stood there, completely at sea, dumbfounded. Part of him was sure that no self-respecting dude, at least no straight one, was going to let some queer boy just grab his ass because he felt like it - particularly not if he was naked like Callum was. But another part of him was wondering if maybe his new Agent was right. Maybe he had over-reacted. Regardless of what he thought, though, it was clear to Callum what Mr. Meyers thought. And Mr. Meyers was the last person in the world he wanted to piss off.

Callum took a deep breath and then apologized,

"I'm sorry Mr. Meyers. If you say I reacted a bit harsh I probably did. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

"Well, Callum," Meyers answered after a moment. "You are new to the business and I'm inclined to let this incident pass. But I want it understood that I don't want it repeated. If you exploded the way you just did before a hiring agent you'd not only lose any chance at being hired but you'd reflect badly on me and definitely jeopardize the future employment opportunities of all the other models I represent. I hope you realize that I can't have that."

"Yes, Sir," Callum meekly answered. "I understand. I'm sorry, Sir."

Mr. Meyers eyed Callum closely as if mulling things over. Eventually, though, with a slight shrug of his shoulders, he let the tension ease.

"I'm going to let it pass this time, Callum," he told the boy, "but it's something we're going to have to work on here, before we send you out to photo-shoots."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Callum was grateful that Mr. Meyers was willing to forgive his indiscretion.

Meyers returned his attention to the papers Troy had brought him and reviewed the contract for a few minutes before looking up. Callum was relieved to see that the man was smiling again.

"Callum," he instructed, "pull up a chair and sit down. I want to go over the modeling contract with you."

"Yes, Sir," the young man replied, quickly moving to pull a chair over to the desk. He was going to place it in front of the desk, but Mr. Meyers motioned that he should pull it alongside his own. It was a tight fit for two chairs behind the desk but Meyers moved his chair slightly and both were able to fit.

As Callum sat down he was suddenly reminded that he was still completely naked.

His balls got a little scrunched up by his thighs and he was forced to reach down and physically re-adjust his junk.

It was pretty embarrassing handling himself so intimately with his new Manager just inches away. Callum was pretty sure he was blushing by the time he got himself properly settled. Mr. Meyers didn't give any vocal comments, just smiled at Callum, patted him on the knee and moved the contract on the desk so that they could both read it at the same time.

Callum leaned forward a little and was just about to begin reading the contract as Meyers reached out, picked up his phone, and hit the intercom button.

"Troy," he spoke into the receiver, "would you bring in a glass of water for Mr. Masters. He's probably pretty thirsty by now."

Obviously obtaining the response he expected, Mr. Meyers replaced the phone in its cradle and turned to Callum.

"It might be a good thing if you apologized to Troy when he brings the water in. The two of you will be working closely from now on and it's better if you don't start out with a strained relationship."

Callum was disconcerted by this last statement and blurted out: "But I thought I'd be working with you, Mr. Meyers."

"Oh, you will," the man sitting directly next to him immediately reassured him.

"You'll be working very closely with me from now on. But Troy is part of our Agency’s team. He's not just a first class secretary, he's also a very good photographer. He'll be the one taking the pictures for your comp cards next week and he'll also be in charge of your personal grooming. So it's important for you to have a good working relationship with him, regardless of any personal misgivings you might have."

"Yes, sir," Callum duly responded.

He was about to question just how Troy was going to be in charge of his grooming, when the door opened and Troy fluttered in.

“God” Callum thought, “this bitch has got to be just about the nelliest flamer I've ever seen”

However, mindful of Mr. Meyers' lecture, he managed to plaster a pained smile onto his face as Troy handed him the glass of water. Callum thanked him for the water. Aware that the Boss' eyes were on him, he continued:

"I also want to apologize if I offended you earlier, Troy. I'm sorry if I did."

He inwardly cringed hearing himself apologizing to this fucking fruit-basket but hoped he'd done it without showing how he really felt. Troy just stood there smiling, letting his eyes rake up and down Callum's naked body, forcing the boy to visibly squirm in the chair.

"Oh don't you worry, honey. A pretty boy like you with such a hot bod is bound to be a little skittish at first. But we'll work it out, don't you fret. We'll be close friends before you know it. Real close friends," he added with a leering smirk, "if you know what I mean." With that, Troy turned and minced his way out of the room. Callum was sure he had to be blushing scarlet after this last exchange but a quick glance over at Mr. Meyers showed that the man seemed completely oblivious to the disgusting implications of Troy's last words. Instead, he seemed intent on simply going over the contract terms.

"Have a drink of water, Callum," he suggested, "and we'll get started."

Stifling his irritation, Callum grabbed the glass and took a large swallow and then turned his attention to the matter at hand.

He was appreciative of the care Mr. Meyers took in explaining all the terms of the contract to him.

It was, so his Agent advised him, a standard exclusive modeling contract except for one or two alterations. The Agent explained that, under its terms, Callum was agreeing to accept JM Modeling Agency as his exclusive personal manager for modeling, advertising and entertainment purposes during the term of the contract, which was two years from the date of signing. That meant that Callum had to inform Mr. Meyers of any offers of employment made directly to Callum in any of those fields and refer those matters to him.

The model also was giving the Agency the exclusive authority to use and distribute, and to allow others it's licensed use and distribution of all pictures and other images of Callum in connection with not only advertising and publicity, but for all other purposes covered by the contract. Callum also agreed to accept Mr. Meyers' counsel in all matters relating to employment and other endeavors that involved modeling, advertising, and entertainment.

In exchange for the Agency's efforts in promoting him and helping him to find employment, Callum agreed to pay the Agency fifty percent of all money received for any work in modeling, advertising, or entertaining fields during the term of the agreement. At this point, Meyers turned to Callum and told him that JM Modeling Agency's cut of fifty percent was higher than that charged by most agencies.

Meyers knew that Callum by now was completely overwhelmed by the explanations. He wanted the boy to be swimming helplessly, he wanted callum to wait for the simple order to “Sign here!”

"We believe it's justified," Meyers explained, "by the special efforts we put into assuring that our models get the greatest possible exposure. But, because our percentage is somewhat high, we expressly provide an escape clause. If, after six months, you are dissatisfied with our performance you may unilaterally abrogate the contract and sign with another agency. This six-month period allows us sufficient time to recover any out-of-pocket expenses we may have incurred on a model's behalf and also provides the individual with the opportunity to determine whether or not he is cut out to be a professional model."

Callum was a little troubled by this provision so he asked:

"Does this mean that after six months you can just terminate your relationship with me?"

The Agent hastened to assure the model that this was not the case.

"The six-month option can only be invoked by you. The agency, on the other hand, is firmly committed to representing you for the full two-year term of the agreement. I might mention, however, that in the history of this agency, no model has ever exercised the option, which I think is a pretty good indication of the level of services we provide."

Having dealt with that item, Mr. Meyers made a point of mentioning another provision of the contract which required Callum to conduct himself in accord with the Agency's rules of behavior and to do nothing which would inhibit or impair his ability to fulfill his obligations under the contract. When Callum inquired as to this last provision, Mr. Meyers informed him that it covered matters such as substance abuse.

"I don't care if you drink a few beers or use some recreational drugs when you're not on-site working as long as you do so in moderation. But excessive use of alcohol or use of any recreational drugs while on the job will not be tolerated."

He let Callum think about it for a second, before he went on:

"The other thing that provision covers is physical alterations. I don't want you going out and changing the way you look. No wild haircuts, no tats, no piercings. Is that understood, Callum?"

"Yes, sir," Callum immediately replied. He could understand his Agent's desire that the person who showed up for a job should be sober and looked like the person the employer had contracted for. That just seemed like good business practice.

Callum picked up the contract and looked it over again.

There were a lot of other provisions in it which he didn't really understand, but he was afraid that, if he asked too many questions, Mr. Meyers might think that Callum didn't trust him.

But that wasn't true. Callum did trust the man. Callum always relied on his instinctive reaction to people and his gut told him that John Meyers was a person he could completely trust. As Mr. Meyers turned around to him and asked him if he had any further questions, Callum handed the contract back to him and responded, "No, sir."

"Then, Callum," Mr. Meyers continued. "Are you ready to sign the contract?"

"Yes, sir," Callum eagerly answered. "I am."

"Then let's do it." With that, Mr. Meyers picked up a pen and signed for the Agency. He slid the contract over to Callum and passed him the pen. Trying to tamp down the excitement he was feeling, Callum carefully added his signature above his typed name. He couldn't believe it.

He now had an agent.

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