Jardonn's Erotic Tales.com



A Thumbnail Tale by Jardonn Smith

and Globalfight.com


Funny how money issues can destroy friendships – especially when friendships are expanded to involve business partnerships, and double-especially when money mysteriously disappears.
Their business was producing films for the adult market, strictly XXX. Each man had his own special skills, and talents of the three entrepreneurs blended like a creamy-tasty malted.
Brad was the creative wizard. Wrote the scripts. Wrote and produced the music and sound effects. Purchased and maintained the cameras, mics and accessory equipment. Directed the films. Managed the assisting staff. Edited what he shot, mixed it down to the final product and created graphics for packaging.
Darryl dealt with the talent and promotions. Contracted actors and secured proper age verification documents. Booked locations per Brad's requests. Obtained necessary permits. Made housing or hotel arrangements for actors and staff. Ran the web sites. Advertised, sold and distributed the end products in both physical and online formats.
Grady was the financial guru. Kept the other two within his fiscal budgets. Maintained and monitored the bank accounts. Paid invoices and wrote purchase orders. Filed local, state and federal taxes. Managed all insurance policies and handled payroll for employees and work-for-hires.
Their first film was a minor success. The second release did much better, and within six months they'd recouped their start-up investment. By the end of their first year, four films were in the can and profits were just barely enough so all three men could quit their day jobs.
This was a critical time for them. Shooting of movie number five was complete and Brad worked on post-production, while Darryl had recently signed a contract with the number one U.S. distributor of retail and online adult films.
Nothing, it seemed, could stop their meteoric rise to fame and fortune, but along came their first major glitch.
“Yeah, Grady. What's up?”
The call came early afternoon on a Saturday. “You know those two items you bought yesterday? A new audio mixer and video editor?”
“Yeah. I've been working all night. So much easier with these upgrades. That editor will let me embed stills from the Canon into...”
“Brad,” money-man Grady interrupted gizmo-freak Brad with some important news. “The check bounced.”
“What? Son of a bitch! That is not cool. You told me we had more than enough to...”
“We did.”
“Then what's going on, Grady? Did you call the bank?”
“No. I got an email alert overnight, but I slept in this morning. Didn't go online until after noon.”
“Can you see the account online?”
“I'm looking at it now.”
“And... hold on...” Grady scrolled to the particulars he needed to see. “Same day you wrote your check, payment was made to something called Langenheim Escapes.”
“What the hell is that?”
“They book European vacations. Web site says river cruises along the Seine and Danube, plus the Mediterranean, Black and Aegean Seas.”
“Uh, I'm not going to any of those places, Grady. Are you?”
“No, Brad, I'm not.”
“What about Darryl? Have you asked him about it?”
“Not yet.”
“How much was the payment to this company?”
“Thirty-four hundred eighty-six dollars and forty-seven cents.”
“Fuck a duck, Grady! That ought to cover TWO people taking a cruise.”
“You'd think so,” Grady had no suspicions of Brad. Knew Brad was too caught up in creative work to consider booking vacations behind his money-manager's back. Brad's reaction to the news confirmed what Grady already knew. As for their third partner, Grady wasn't so sure. “Speaking of fuck a duck, what do you think about Darryl? Any reason he might have for taking a, shall we say, romantic vacation for two on our money?”
Brad rewound events day by day, trying to recall some sort of incriminating evidence. “Well, one of the actors was hitting on Darryl a couple of weeks ago. They went somewhere for lunch one day, I think.”
“Which actor?”
“Bear Backman, but hell, I can't be sure. Could be they simply walked out together. I wasn't paying that much attention. You know how it is, Grady. I'm so wrapped up in the shoot I don't have time to control the extra-curriculars. Besides, that's Darryl's job. Keeping the actors happy.”
“I know, Brad. Guess I'll call him up and see if he knows anything about this. Oh, wait. He sent me an email. Let me check it out.”
Brad waited patiently while Grady opened and read the message, that is until he heard “Oh, shit” mumbled from Grady's mouth.
“What does it say?”
“Well,” Grady quickly read to the end before summarizing. “He says he'd like to take a couple of weeks off starting a week from Monday. Says he needs some vacation time.”
“That rotten piece of shit!”
“Rotten, indeed. And fucking stupid. If he'd have asked me, I could have finagled the finances for him.”
“Instead, we've now bounced a check to a very important client.”
“Don't worry, Brad. I can wire transfer some of my personal funds to cover our business check. I'll do it right now and call you back.”
“You need me to chip in, Grady?”
“No. Just sit tight by the phone. This shouldn't take long.”
Took about thirty minutes, which included emailing the bank so they'd know funds were there to cover the business check. The next conversation between Grady and Brad progressed from anger to confusion to pure evil. Plotting, they were. Strategory concocted to get at the truth, and it all started with an invitation for Darryl to join them at Grady's home Sunday afternoon. There, they would enjoy a relaxing soak in the hottub sauna.
With a plot written by Grady and Brad, they slyly lured Darryl into their syrup when Grady said, “About your vacation, Darryl, I was one step ahead of you.”
“How so?”
“I was arranging funds so that when Brad finished post-production, we'd all three take us a cruise in the Caribbean. Hit all the islands and spend extra time in Saint Thomas.”
Darryl liked the plan. “Sure, I could go for that.”
“Unfortunately, one of us already booked himself a trip.”
“Oh, yeah? Who?”
“Our dear friend, Brad.”
“It's true,” Brad played along. “I had a chance to get a good rate and I took it.”
Grady added, “And with it, he took most of the money I was going to use for our little trip, so I guess we'll sit here and twiddle our thumbs while Brad basks on the beach in... where is it you're going, Brad?”
“The Bahamas.”
“You dirty piece of crap!” Darryl separated from Brad, shoved him aside with hands to his chest.
“I think we ought to beat the crap out of him, myself,” Grady prodded. “What do you think, Darryl?”
“Sure, I'm good and pissed off. Thinking we should work him over, big time. Give him some bruises to show off when he's sunbathing.”
“Get him!” As Grady got hold of Brad's ankles, Darryl put his arms in a Nelson and they stretched Brad good and tight.
“Take that, you back-stabbing piece of shit,” Darryl eagerly expressed his anger. “Abscond with our money, will ya'?”
“Ah, damn you to hell!” Brad howled. “Why are you torturing me like this?”
“Because you fucked with our money,” Grady explained while tugging Brad's ankles and stretching his legs.
“And we hate when people fuck with our money,” Darryl added while punishing Brad with a severe, double-titty-twister.”
With Darryl clamping on a two-handed belly claw, Brad groaned, “Hey, without me there wouldn't be any money. I needed a break, saw a good bargain and jumped on it."
Darryl dug his digits deep into Brad's abdominal brick-wall. “The way I see it, you're a thief.”
“Yeah... well...” Brad spoke between moans of agony and gasps of breath. “You sure are... quick to make judgments. You... just now... found out about it. Why are you... so pissed so soon?”
Grady answered on Darryl's behalf. “Maybe it's because he's more guilty than you are, Brad.”
“Huh?” Darryl, stunned with accusation, let go the belly claw as Grady released Brad's ankles. How quickly the tables did turn. Brad slithered behind Darryl and put HIM in a Nelson while Grady grabbed his ankles.
"Hey! What the hell is going on here?"
Brad sneered, “Tell us about YOUR trip, hot shot.”
“Ouch! Geezus H. Christ,” Darryl howled as Brad nearly ripped both tits from his pectorals. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Grady, stretching out Darryl's legs, filled him in. “You know, Langenheim Escapes? Your European cruise?”
“Are you friggin' crazy?”
Grady interrogated. “Which river are you and your new boyfriend going to travel? The Danube? Seine?”
“Or is it the Black Sea?” Brad intensified the questioning, along with the titty-twisters. “Aegean? Mediterranean?”
“You two are out of your gourds,” Darryl protested, doing his best to keep up the outrage while concealing his pain. “I don't know a damn thing about any of this.”




"Liar!" Brad turned up the heat by crushing his victim's pecker.
“Don't bother denying it,” Grady sneered. “Did you think you could fool me? The money manager? I see every penny that comes and goes. You booked a trip to Europe for you and your boyfriend.”
“I don't have any boyfriends.”
“Bullshit,” Brad countered. “You and Bear Backman were carrying on like love-struck hound dogs. I saw it, but that's okay. You two go right ahead. It's just too bad there won't be any love-making. Not after I get finished crushing your nuts.”
“Damn you. Damn you both to hell!”
Denials were useless. So, too, was Darryl's body, as the assault on his genitals drained his strength and rendered him a limp rag. With no further need to secure his legs, Grady moved in and they both made ready to do some serious work on their helpless victim.
A choke hold squelched what little resistance remained, and they moved in for the kill.
"No. Not that. Anything but that!"
"Gonna drain you, tough guy."
"Gonna take everything from you. Everything that makes you a man.
"Not once. But twice. Multiples. Back to back. Again and again."
“You like that idea? Did that one feel good? Are you ready to go again? Sure you are, you beautiful piece of man-meat. God, you feel good. Feel like a man. Taste like a man. Wanna drink you again. Gonna suck on you, swallow you until my belly explodes. Got it? You belong to us. Understand? Won't be anything left of you by the time Bear Backman gets his slimy paws on you. By the time we're finished, he won't want you. You'll be all used up. You might as well cancel your plans. Stay with us, because we ain't ever letting you go. Got it?"
Darryl never bothered asking any more questions. Those two took him to ecstasies of such dizzying heights, his brain was in a heavenly, orgasmic cloud.
Eventually, they did explain to him the mix-up at the bank. Of the early Sunday morning email that explained how the bank had accidentally transferred funds from the wrong account – their account, thus creating their shortfall. Of how, even though Brad and Grady knew Darryl was innocent, they carried through with their plan, because the thought of Darryl ever leaving them scared the shit out of them.
That's why they worshiped him for most of the afternoon. Of course, after all was told and their relationship again secured, it was Grady's turn to receive his round of pretend punishment.
Followed by some very real praise.
The accidental glitch only strengthened their partnership – business-wise, friendship-wise, and every-other-kind-of-wise – and their well-deserved Caribbean cruise came off hitchless and glitchless.
And you better believe this little storyline was made into their next film, starring Darryl, Grady and Brad.



There is video/dvd of this hot tub action, plus full-sized photo sets.

Titled "Uniform Fetish 1" at Vangar/Globalfight.com



There is also a personals section where you can meet men just like these.

You'll find them at Globalfight Personals




This Jardonn Thumbnail Tale was inspired by






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