FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

That's a Wrap!

Part 3

for DuskCypher

by Draconicon

Draconicon was rather familiar with the back rooms of the studio. He had been here, there, and everywhere else in the building while working on the script to avoid Henry and the case of the perpetual scene requests while he was still working for the studio. Before that, he had been working off-site, and dealing with the lion dialing in every few hours and pushing him to put in a scene where the lion would be fucking some other character in the show. All in all, it had become a problem where the lion was bound and determined to become the main character of every series that he touched, and that, well, that had been the thing that led to the first argument.

And the first time being fired, for that matter. The black dragon chuckled, resting his hands against the table and knitting his fingers together as he waited for Maurice to show up. It was almost funny, these days. Almost. There was always that possibility that he might not be re-hired again, but after this song and dance repeating more than six times, he knew his worth, and he knew that eventually, sooner or later, one of the two studio owners would show up and start pushing for him to come back.

"Hmm, hmm..."

The first time had led to him getting a small raise. The second time had led to a slightly bigger one. The third one had led to any script-change meetings having to be done officially with both studio owners present. The fourth had required Henry to get written permission from the other actor involved for any big changes that involved the other actor actually having to be in a sex scene with the lion. Five and six had gotten him moved into the studio and on-set while things were happening so that he could see that the scenes were coming together the way that he had written them, and having co-director credits if he pushed for it for an episode.

But this was the seventh one. He wondered what he'd be able to get away with this time. Because they needed him if they wanted to avoid another Game of Bones fiasco.

So, the dragon waited as patiently as he always did, his hands folded in front of him, a plain white t-shirt and a pair of jeans all that he bothered to wear. After all, no reason to dress up when he wasn't even an official employee of the studio anymore. They all knew the score by now.

The door to the small back-room opened up, and Maurice poked his little head in. The dragon nodded at the hamster, gesturing at the chair that he'd already positioned at the other side of the table.

"Good to see you again."

"Yeah, sorry about this."

"It's alright. We both know Henry."

"Yes, but it's still not right."

"What is, these days?"

"Fair, fair."

Maurice dragged himself into the chair, getting into his lifted cushion before looking the dragon right in the eyes. He always tried that, and Draconicon always indulged him. Just like everyone else, the hamster looked away within five seconds, though he did better than most. He lasted a full four, this time. There was something about staring into eyes that were pure white, without any clear sign of where they were looking, that seemed to bother the average person.

"So, how have things been?" the dragon asked. "I heard that you managed to snag someone for the lead role."

"Yeah, that...that happened."

"A well-endowed black cat, I'm assuming."

"Yep."

"No fur dye. That'll save you money."

The hamster nodded, tapping his fingers on the edge of the table. Draconicon didn't say anything to address the tension in the room; he knew where it was coming from, and he just wanted to wait for it to explode. He didn't have to wait long.

"Did you have to write it this way?" the hamster asked.

"Write what in what way?"

"The script. You know what Henry really wanted."

"Yes, yes, the swan-song of a farewell show. I gave him that."

"You made him the bad guy."

"One of the bad guys. And one of the redeemable ones, at that."

"It's a complicated role, Drac. Seriously. You know that he doesn't do that well outside of sex scenes unless it's a caricature."

"Then call it a challenge. He wanted something good, and you wanted a show that could rest on something more than the porn."

"..."

"You hired me for a reason, Maurice. You wanted to avoid the Game of Bones problem. And the Seeker of the Shaft problem. And -"

"You can stop anytime, you know."

"I'm just saying. You've hired me time and time and time again, and then you let Henry fuck it up. I understand the financial situation, but if you want to make me feel bad about writing the script a certain way, then you can stop. There's a reason for everything that I put in that, and the minute that you start editing it, it starts coming apart. And there's only so much damage control that I can do."

That had been a big sticking point in the previous partnerships that he had enjoyed with the studio. Henry kept having 'ideas' of something cool to do with the script, always either ignoring continuity or throwing it in the blender, trusting it to be fixed in post. That wasn't always possible, considering the fact that the dragon built up quite a bit of continuity with the script from the start, and having it blended away wasn't something that could always be put back together. That was the reason why Game of Bones had failed so utterly in the last season, despite all the love and care that had gone into it during the original three.

They both knew that if Henry was allowed to do whatever he wanted with the current script, then 'The Devil May Care' might as well never be shipped out to the broadcasting services, because it would have the same problem, and earlier. Having Henry on-staff was a liability that was only just beaten out by the financial services that he offered. He knew it, Maurice knew it, everyone knew it.

"I promised Henry that he'd get a good role, and he's been asking...questions...about when he gets to get on stage," Maurice said.

"And you don't want to be the one to tell him that he's going to be one of the later-appearing, shittier characters."

"...Not really, no."

"He can't fire you."

"No, but he can make my life miserable, and he can pull the plug on finances."

"So, I'm not only be hired back to keep the script in good order -"

"Well, put it back in good order. Henry's changed some of the dialogue..."

"...What?"

"He's changed it from Satan to Devil, and -"

"Oh, fucking hell..."

The dragon rubbed his forehead, thinking about all the other things that were going to be warped by the time that he got his hands back on the script. He'd barely been fired for two weeks before this meeting, and Henry had already started changing that much? Well, that was just fucking glorious, wasn't it?

I swear, that lion needs to be taken out back and shot...

Well, that was going a bit far. Henry wasn't horrible when he was off-set, when he wasn't thinking about how to throw himself into the limelight again. There was a reason that he was reasonably well-liked outside the studio, despite the various ways that he had pissed everyone else off inside it. The lion wasn't horrible. He just...caused problems.

And now, the dragon had to solve them.

"Alright. I can fix that. And I'll even be the bad guy that takes the heat for making the decision. If you can assure me that I can't be fired for that."

"Done."

"Good. Now that we've got that out of the way, what are the incentives for me to come back?"

"...Do you, uh, do you really need any?" Maurice asked.

"I can write my own ticket anywhere in Hollywood or outside it, Maurice. I'd quite frankly prefer to get back to my own vanity projects, something more interesting than this. If you think that I'm going to come back out of the goodness of my heart, or because I'm in love with this, you're wrong."

"But...but it's your writing."

"No, it's Henry's bastardized version of my writing. I'm going to withdraw any writing credits I get on this if it goes to broadcast the way that it is. I have no attachment to it whatsoever, so if you want me to be part of the project again, then you better give me something to work with here. Give me a reason to want to throw my all into it one more time."

The hamster's flustered sputtering was just as adorable and amusing as it always was, and it was more than enough to keep a smile on the dragon's face as he leaned back on his chair. He knew that there would be compensation; there always was. It wasn't always financial, but he imagined that there'd be other privileges that were offered to him, other things that would be given to keep him interested in sticking with FDN. The very idea of them losing him would be like losing their biggest meal ticket into the big time.

And he knew Maurice wanted to be up there with the big directors, wanted to be seen with the various members of Hollywood, be invited to the Oscars, allowed to take part with that crowd that he adored so much. But for that, he needed an in-house writer with good ideas to go with the stars and other directors that he was gradually attracting to the studio. If he didn't have good content, it wouldn't matter how sexy the material was. It would never get off the ground, and FDN would only be known as that one studio that had that one hit series that never actually amounted to anything more than gratuitous cock and balls and ass shots.

It was his advantage, and they both knew it.

Maurice looked down at the table, gripping his side of it so hard that his little fingers started to turn white. Draconicon looked down at his knuckles, waiting in silence. One might have thought that he was blackmailing the hamster. Perhaps he was, but as he thought at the beginning of this whole thing, he knew his worth, and he knew what he needed to get to keep from being fired again.

Finally, Maurice sighed. The little guy looked up at him.

"Private office?"

"That's a start," the dragon said. "A good one?"

"Reasonable one; we don't have much. Converted dressing room work for you?"

"I can deal with that, as long as it's one of the bigger ones."

"Deal."

"Alright. I'd say you're...hmmm, thirty-percent of the way there."

"You want more?"

"Maurice, how many people would keep coming back after being fired this many times?"

"...True. Um. Five-percent pay raise?"

It was a decent amount, considering that he had been earning in the double-digits monthly before. He pretended to consider it, then slowly nodded.

"How much now?" Maurice asked.

"I'd say you're up to fifty-percent."

"Ugh..."

"You know that you can always say no, and I'll go without making any problems."

And he would. Like he had admitted, he didn't have any particular attachment to the studio. He had made his name with the earlier seasons of Game of Bones, and for minor writing roles in other series that both FDN and other studios had done. He could go anywhere. Sure, they might not allow for some of the kinkier stories that he had in mind, but he had all kinds of stories, all kinds of series that he could write for and get off the ground. If Maurice wanted him, then the hamster needed to pony up and show that there was something better about staying here rather than going somewhere else.

All that said, he didn't act like a jackass about it. He knew that Maurice wasn't trying to shaft anyone, and more, that the hamster had an overtuned need to make sure that everyone that worked with him was as happy as they could possibly be. That tended to have a problem of backfiring on him when he really needed to be firm about something, and it really stressed him out when he was not able to find an easy solution. Making it harder for him by being a dick and a smarmy jerk was something that would only weaken his position, and he didn't want to do that, or make himself look like Henry. Nobody ever wanted to look like Henry.

Maurice hemmed and hawwed, and Draconicon continued to wait for the hamster to suggest something that might keep him around. He liked doing it this way, for several reasons. The first, and main one, was that he often didn't know what he wanted, and hearing what someone was willing to offer let him know if they knew him well enough for them to work together. It also meant that he knew very quickly whether they were willing to go that extra mile to make sure that they showed how much they valued him. The other reasons were pretty petty, and were more related to the fact that it allowed the other person to feel like they had gotten something good while he had just made sure that they only gave him what he wanted, rather than what they could negotiate down from.

Finally, the hamster sighed. For a moment, Draconicon thought that the negotiations might have fallen through, but instead, Maurice looked up at him with embarrassment, of all things.

"How, um, how do you feel about getting a personal assistant?"

"I really don't like the idea. I work alone better than I do with an assistant."

"I don't mean that kind of assistant."

"...Go on."

"You still have that, um, thing of yours, right?"

"You're going to have to be much more specific than that."

"Right, um...the foot thing?"

Draconicon nodded. That had come up during a late-night session of script writing when he'd been a bit more open about personal fantasies with Maurice than he had honestly meant to be, and had started writing everyone barefoot in a scene. It was hardly the only thing that he was interested in, but it was the one that the hamster was the most aware of.

"What of it?" the dragon asked.

"What if you, um, had an assistant who had the job of, ahem, tending to that?"

"...That need specifically?"

"That, or...well, I guess pretty much anything."

"..."

"I'm just putting it out there as an idea -"

"I'm not Henry, but I am...intrigued. Do I get to pick?"

"From a limited selection pool, yes."

"Hmmmm..."

Now that was an offer that he wasn't going to get from the other major studios, and he had to admit that the idea of having a personal whore under him like that, someone that was more than willing to do what they were told for the show's writer and keep his stress levels down, was more than a little appealing. Particularly if he was going to be dealing with Henry for any level of time. Worship and hate-fucks would be the order of the day, and he knew that the (un)lucky guy that got the role would need to have some stamina.

"I'm assuming you only have men available?"

"Well, um, at the moment, there is a, ahem, dearth of acceptable females in the business -"

"That's fine. I just wanted to check."

"Then...you'll do it?"

"I'll have to check to see if there's any up to my standards just yet, but I'm all but signed on. If I can find someone that's acceptable, then I'll say yes."

"Oh thank god..." Maurice leaned his head into his hands, huffing softly and shaking his head quickly. "Drac, you have no idea how much that makes things better. I was sure -"

"Just make sure that Henry doesn't keep fucking things up, and we'll be good. I think that these are good terms, and provided that we stick to the script this time...we should be golden. By the end of the show, you'll be rolling in money and accolades that put Game of Bones to shame."

"You really think so?"

"I know so."

After all, this was a premise that most people couldn't help but love. There were characters of all sorts in the story, and while it focused on a gay protagonist, it was the sort of guy that more straight men could understand, someone that went out of their way to show that they were interested in people, that used their strength to take charge and get what they wanted, that kind of thing. They'd overlook the gay parts in favor of seeing themselves as that sort of man, that sort of powerful figure that could do whatever they wanted.

Hell, they'd probably just enjoy Dusk throwing his ass back in those scenes, too...might have to up that a bit for Henry's sake...

He was already considering how he was going to have to alter the script when Henry's complaints came pouring in, how he'd have to introduce the Sertus family properly earlier in the story, when the door to the back room opened up. Drac looked up, half-expecting it to be Henry come to check in on things, but found himself staring at someone rather attractive, instead.

The big, dark-skinned orc was completely naked, and looked completely unabashed by the fact that he was showing off a massive schlong without the slightest covering. The fact that he wasn't painted, either, meant that Maurice had probably found someone for the role of Lord Ornar Onsen, as well. Draconicon looked down, saw that the orc had a nice pair of feet, too. A very nice, large, slightly sweaty pair that definitely would be suitable.

Maurice must have seen him looking, because the next thing he knew, the hamster had hopped on the table and grabbed him by the head.

"Not him!"

"Heh, not the stars, then, hmm?" the dragon asked.

"No. No, no, no. He works with the star, and I don't need you to ruin that chemistry."

"Maurice. It's fine. Thanks." The dragon chuckled as he got to his feet. So, no orc soles for him to play with. That was fine. He had no doubt that there would be plenty of other interns and other toys that he could pick up through the staff here at the studio. "But thanks for your time."

"Who are you?" the orc asked.

"I'm the writer."

"Oh, you - you're the one that came up with all this?"

"I came up with the original draft. There's probably been some modifications in the last two weeks. Anyway, congratulations on getting the role," the dragon said, patting the orc on the shoulder. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to find someone."

"Who?"

"You know, I'm just asking myself that question, too," the dragon said with a laugh, leaving the orc and the hamster behind. He imagined that this was what Henry felt on a regular basis, particularly when there were new people on staff. There was a sense of going on a hunt, looking for someone that struck a particular chord with you.

He wondered just who he'd end up finding.

Draconicon was not entirely impressed with most of the interns and film crew. Most of them were a bit on the older, more 'experienced' side of things, and he had to admit that they weren't the best for eye-candy. Some of them weren't great in terms of their skills, either, their 'experience' leading them to bemoan the more up-to-date equipment in the studio and mess about with it in a way that they never would have done with the older stuff. He shook his head as he walked through the various sets, looking at those that had been brought in by the directors while he'd been gone.

Not bad, not bad, he thought, seeing one new guy working on a villain role for some sort of investigative series. Something involving psionics, from what little he could overhear. He hoped that the mink was up for it; villain roles could be hard to carry off in porn.

Eventually, he reached the break room. It was a large, rectangular room at the front of the studio, meant for everyone to congregate in between shoots. The directors, the camera crew, and the hopefuls were all there, with the stars all the way off at one end.

As he walked in, some eyes turned to him, while others stayed on their food. One pair of eyes in particular belonged to a black cat at the far end of the room, and he imagined that was the guy that Maurice had gotten for the role of Dusk Von Doom. He had the physique for it, though his off-camera persona just screamed 'leave me the hell alone.' The dragon shrugged, doing just as he was asked as he walked down the lines of chairs and tables, idly scanning everyone that he went by for possibilities.

No, no, not them. Not that guy. Not that one. No, definitely not that one.

He finally paused behind a stallion that looked like he had some promise. The dragon leaned down, saw that the horse had soles rather than hooves, and smiled to himself. That was a very good start, indeed. He tapped the munching equine on the shoulder, getting his attention and making him turn around.

"Mmmph?" The stallion swallowed a mouthful of salad. "Can I help you?"

"Are you an intern here?"

"Something like that. Learning how to do camera work, part-time fluffer, too."

"You know, that's just about perfect."

"...What do you mean?"

"Do you know the name Draconicon?"

"That's on the script somewhere..."

"Yeah, I'm the writer." The dragon held out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Wow. Nice to meet you, too."

"Indeed. Now, when you finish your salad, why don't you come to - what was it? Oh, yeah. Room 14."

"Lucky Fourteen," the stallion said.

"Lucky for you today, indeed."

"Sir?"

"You'll see. Just come over when you're done."

He turned to leave, pausing at the door and looking back again. The stallion was back to munching, probably someone that took his orders seriously and wasn't thinking too much about them at the same time. Rather a good combination, as far as the dragon was concerned.

That big ass was a good asset of the horse's, too.

He wasn't waiting in the converted dressing room for long, though he'd taken the time to move the countertop where all the make-up and other tools would have been held to a space closer to the middle of the room. The lights from behind near the mirror caused quite the back-light, probably giving him a hell of a shadow across the room, which would be good for intimidating people but terrible for taking notes. He resolved to get himself a desktop lamp, too, and was in the process of searching one out on his phone when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Draconicon said.

The door opened to reveal the stallion from earlier. Now that he was standing, he showed off a pretty good physique, one that belied the rather hefty ass that he had been pushing back on his chair earlier. Draconicon gave him an up-and-down look, and he nodded to himself again. Nice shoulders, good chest. Not that much muscle in the abs and stomach, but that would come in time. He had a good-sized cock, something that would be fun to watch wobble either underfoot or while getting rammed full, and, of course, the curve and swell of his ass. Not quite feminine, but definitely large, even for the equine standards of things.

His own cock throbbed slightly below his desk as he imagined putting that ass to use. Soon enough, he told himself. Soon enough.

"Sir?" the horse asked. "What did you need?"

"Come in. Sit down. Put your feet up."

As the dragon gestured to the only other chair in the room, the stallion seemed a little ill at ease. At the very least, he seemed confused. Draconicon gestured again, and the intern stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He even sat down, though he didn't put his feet up. The black dragon cocked his head to the side, smiling slightly.

"I said, put your feet up."

"But, uh..."

"Do it, please."

After a moment's hesitation, the stallion did just that. The soles were just what the dragon had been hoping to see: large, a little bit beefy, not too wide as to be out of proportion with the sole as a whole, and rather aesthetically pleasing. Not dusty, either; probably washed before coming in, but - and yes, he sniffed the air to check - a little bit sweaty still, just a hint of musk left behind. Perfect.

"What's your name?" Draconicon asked, poking the stallion's arch gently.

"Nnngh. It's - ah - James, sir."

"James. Well, James. I'll be talking with Maurice later to make it official, but you've been promoted. Or side-moted, depending on how you look at it."

"What are you - nnngh! Stop poking my feet! I'm ticklish!"

"You're going to be a lot more than that in a bit..." Draconicon smiled, though, and ceased poking. "You're going to be my personal assistant. And probable fluffer, as well, though not for anything on-screen."

"Wha - you mean I'm..."

"Basically, my bitch. But a paid bitch, let's be clear. You're not doing this for free, nor should you. Now. What are your kinks? Specialties?"

"I - you're going pretty fast for me, sir."

"That's business. Let's start with this. Have you received or given a footjob before?" the dragon asked.

"Um...once? Gotten, I mean. Rabbit that was getting rather handsy - or footy, I guess."

"And did you like it?"

"It was okay."

"And how do you fluff others?"

"Uh, blowjob, mostly."

Draconicon nodded, getting to his feet. So, in other words, James was fairly run of the mill when one got down to it. Not someone that had any real hangups, but not someone that had much in the way of experience, either. Someone that needed some training, but didn't have the bad habits that would keep the training from landing. He supposed that was to be expected from an intern, but by the time that he was done, he imagined that James would be able to get a fluffer job at any of the studios out there that wanted one.

Or at the very least, he'd have contacts that would want him there. Same difference, really.

"Alright. Let's start with something basic like that, then," the dragon said, walking around his desk. James started to pull his legs down, and the dragon grabbed his ankles. "Ah. I didn't say to move them."

"Sorry, sir."

"No shyness about this?" he asked.

"Just a little...surprised. I didn't think..."

"Trust me. All of us have some needs or another," the dragon said, slowly pulling at the front of his pants, undoing the button before dragging the zipper down. The orc had been showing quite a bit, but he was curious how the stallion would like what he was packing. "And you're going to be tending...to this."

There were no words from James as the dragon whipped his dick out, revealing a shaft that was already ten inches long at a partial hard-on and getting longer. The benefit of being a seven-foot-tall dragon meant that you were allowed to have such a large dick, according to the rules of genetics. Dragons were in the same league as stallions, elephants, and other large species when it came to what they were endowed with: it was big, beefy, and rather heavy as a general rule.

Draconicon had been rather lucky with his. It started big, and it kept getting bigger. He stepped closer to his new assistant, allowing James to get a close-up look at the large, dark-scaled shaft, the head purple past the foreskin pulled just over the tip. It was peeling back slowly, exposing more and more of the fat head.

"What do you think? As big as the others that you've fluffed?" the dragon asked.

"Holy..."

"I'll take that as a no."

"It's huge."

"And you're going to be learning to handle it. With hands, mouth, ass, and feet. Perhaps even with other things, depending on how inventive I feel."

"Oh god..."

"Well, I think it'd be better to call me 'master', just to avoid the religious complications."

As James groaned, the dragon grabbed him by the mane and delicately fed the head of his cock past the horse's lips. It was easy enough to slide in, and muscle memory seemed to take over for the stallion at that point, allowing him to bob forward and take more of the shaft as a whole.

Draconicon took his eyes off James's head at that point, looking back down at his feet. His toes were curling like a good little slut, showing how much he enjoyed the taste of cock. There was just enough tension to show that it was a pleasure-curl rather than an anxiety-curl, something that he'd needed to get through to some actors in the past. There was a difference, and there were those out in the audience that would notice. Not all, but enough, and they would complain.

God, they would complain.

"That's it. Now, suck it right to the hilt...that's a good slut..."

James groaned as he reached the very base of the dragon's cock, holding there and sucking hard. The feeling was rather pleasurable, as was the swallowing immediately after, and he let out an agreeable moan as he ruffled the stallion's mane.

Not bad, not bad. You take the whole thing. That's better than most. But you still need training...

Training in everything past the basics, at least. That said, he would definitely be looking forward to his after-hours work and his sessions between his work hours that much more. There was something to enjoy about coming to work, again.

Looks like you got me hooked for a few seasons, at least, Maurice...

The End

Summary: Draconicon is apparently the writer that the hamster's been wanting to hire back, and he has some serious terms this time around. Then again, wouldn't you, if you'd been fired so many times already?

Tags: M/M, Foot Fetish, Draconicon, Dragon, Series, Meta, Hamster, Stallion, Orc, Blowjob, Barefoot, Oral, Prostitution, Movie Studio, TV Studio,