"Dirk's New Debut" by Exjockfeeder - chapter 1 (Patreon)

        That’s it! I’m gonna get out once and for all if this if it kills me.

        Dirk’s thoughts of escape raged in his head as he left the set’s back door. Hoisting up his gym bag to drop the strap on his broad shoulder, squinting from the sudden burst of sun, once again he silently vowed last time. It was fun at first, but no more. I’m not showing next time. I don’t care what he threatens. But he knew he’d have to show.

        As Dirk stomped to his car, he barely noticed the guard eyeing him up and down. Nor did he notice the reflection of his beefcake build staring back at him from the car window as he dug into his pockets for his key. If he had, Dirk would have seen the image of a 6’3” tall square-jawed man. His hair was blond and thick, neatly cropped to the shape of his head on the sides and a little longer on the top. As hair dropped on his forehead, it framed the clean-cut ruggedly handsome face of the archetypal all-American stud. His solid neck flowed into a set of shoulders that looked a little padded in his faded football jersey even though they were bare. Years of devoted working out had kept his physique in fine-tune. His pecs rounded out nicely, two pronounced bulges that yanked at the “8” in the center of his old jersey. His baseball biceps firmly tugged at the striped bands on the sleeves. As he shoved his hands from one pocket to the other hunting for his car key, the waistband on his faded jeans pushed down below the hard bow of his stomach. He never had one of those totally flat stomachs. He definitely kept up a sit-up regimen, and his gut was firm to prove it. But the arch in his back that led into his meaty bubble butt also made his abdomen curve slightly forward from the base of his chest down into the v of his hips. When his swayed back and long-waisted build worked in counterpoint with the slight bounce of his jockish swagger, Dirk’s entire torso would twist as his powerful legs pumped along. He was truly the image of most guys’ fantasies. Everywhere he went, men couldn’t help but watch him move past them, just like the guard had done. He was the type of guy you would conjure up when playing that full-on football jock fantasy in your head, the type of guy you’d expect to see on the cover of a porno tape. In fact, he was that guy. He was the guy you could actually see on the covers of several such flicks       But now he wanted out of all of it. The whole scene had been amusing to him when he fell into it, and the money was a welcome surprise. Three years ago, he was new to this city and trying desperately to get work. With all the free time, he had gotten into an even more extensive gym routine than normal. Unlike so many of the gym queens that surrounded him on these shoots, he had actually played football and been the beefy jock in real-time. He had kept the physique in the years following college, and with the extra time on his hands during his job search, he had only added girth, getting thicker than he had been even at his playing prime.

        While knocking back beers at a bar when weeks of job hunting still had come up dry, he was approached by a guy who eventually revealed himself as some sort of agent type. One thing led to another, and he found himself trying out for some “modeling.” Dirk was far from stupid, and once he showed up to the studio, he quickly realized what was going on. But he was starved for cash, and some adventurous part of his personality took over. He decided to try it out, especially when he heard the money involved. One flick. Big deal he rationalized. The sex was guaranteed to be safe. The other guy turned out to be hot as hell. What could be the damage? Who will see it anyway? And it’ll pay the rent for a couple of months until I get my feet on the ground.

        That first film turned out to be a hit. Apparently the other guy had a loyal following, and suddenly Dirk was getting just as much overflow fan support. The request came for another casting. He said no way, but after another few months, he had only landed a few temp jobs and was still strapped for cash. Now the offer came with a gym membership and almost twice the money. So, what the fuck. Can’t do any more harm, right?

        The two-time gig, however, turned into two years, and Dirk was really over it. The director, Jim, who ran the whole ring, constantly put Dirk in the same parts. It was always the same scene. Dirk played the straight-appearing beefcake jock that turned out to be into other men, the cocky jock that strutted around showing off his meaty build, supposedly unaware of the effect on the guys in the scene. That is until he stripped out of one type of uniform or another to get it on with some cute little stunned jock groupie. Dirk had to admit that seeing films of guys in this same role had always conjured up fantasies, and actual experiences, from his days in football, but was it ever old and tired now! Sick of being the center of the lewd director’s staged fantasies and definitely over the whole grimy routine of the shoots, he was now determined to get out.

          But every time he worked up to quitting, the prick director saw where he was headed and would threaten to expose him. Now that he had a respectable corporate job, Dirk felt trapped. The money had gotten him through, but this was never supposed to go on this long. It had to stop, but it wasn’t like he could walk in and resign given Jim’s threats. He actually suspected that the director had the hots for him, complicating his willingness to let him go. The shithead was blackmailing him so he could keep Dirk around. But there had to be a way. A way to make this director lose interest, to suddenly consider Dirk a losing proposition. But he was still in his late 20’s and looking great. Aging out was not an option. What the fuck was he going to do? He was dying to walk away but knew he’d have hell on his hands if this got out at work beyond the few guys that might have seen the movie and would keep it to themselves.

       Obsessed on coming up with a plan, Dirk tore out of the lot. Pissed at himself for getting into this predicament, he sped along toward home on autopilot. He snapped out of it when he almost slammed into the back end of the car in front of him. Shaking his head, he looked around and realized he was at the grocery store right by his apartment. When his stomach rumbled, he remembered that he hadn’t eaten all day. After parking and grabbing a cart, his mind turned back to an escape plan.

        As he steered through the produce aisles, again absorbed by his own thoughts, the football stud’s cart slammed back at him despite his pushing. Looking up, he realized he was bumping into this guy. Or, to be more accurate, he had shoved his cart right into this guy’s gut. Dirk’s eyes bugged as he apologized. This guy’s belly was massive. It looked like someone had fed him a giant beach ball. This guy could be so hot too, Dirk thought. But man is his gut huge! The guy had a great face. Handsome. Nice frame. Good muscles. He’d catch any guy’s eye if it weren’t for that huge belly. In fact, the more Dirk stared, the more he saw how studly this guy would be without that gut. Heads would turn, like they do when he walks by. When the guy smirked and cleared his throat, Dirk realized he was staring, and he snapped out of it. As he steered his cart clear of the guy’s wide belly, he wondered if guys would stop looking at him if he grew fat like that. Phew. If I had ever grown fat like so many of my football buddies, no one would be after me the same way they . . .

        He jarred to a stop right there. Is that it? Who the hell wants to see a football stud with a beergut in a porn movie, right?  That is it! A few pounds around the middle and I’ll be fired. How easy is that?? I’ve always been able to eat like a horse. I’ll just pack on a few pounds until my paunch gets me canned. It’s beautiful! I’ll be set loose. No blackmail. And then I can just jog off the weight I gain once I’m a free man. Goddamn, that’s easy!

        To be continued