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Sean didn't really know how to mix drinks, so when he set up the photoshoot he specified that the camera person would need to teach him. When he pulled in that day to the studio the handsome cameraman gave him a warm smile that put Sean at near perfect ease. Something about it just told him he was in good hands. He laid the products out while the man tied on the apron, warm and close, strong hands tying it tight.
Sean chuckled, "Tryin to slim me down are ya?"
The man simply responded by patting the youtuber's back, and murmuring "Just wanting to help you do and look your best."
Sean's back tingled where it was touched and a splash of crimson crossed his cheeks.
"R-right. Yeh." He looked down, glad the man was behind him, and the products were there to block the stirring bulge. The cameraman circled back around, setting up the cameras, a red light flashing, drawing Sean's eyes, rhythmically pulsing as he stood still, not much else to catch his attention. But even in another area, it might have....pulse pulse pause pulse pulse pause.
"I would say look into the camera but seems like you're doing a great job of that." The cameraman laughed, "Just set your arms on the counter, around the products, and lean over a bit, and smile."
Sean obeyed, easily following the directions, the warm feeling from his back spreading. This guy's voice was soothing and nice, and he just wanted to hear it more, make this shoot easy.
"There we go, very quick. Well done." The other checked something on a screen Sean couldn't see, as Sean tried to hold the position steady even while he was at full mast. This would be one of the few times Sean hated his dick's size, the lengthy seven inches making quite the imprint on the apron. He did his absolute best not to react in any other way, even as his brain screamed at him for being so lewd, it would be so awkward for the other, who was just doing his job, it wasn't his fault he was provoking this weird ass reaction in the Irishman!
"Aaaalright looking good." The black curls popped up over the camera again as the man straightened up. He walked over, arranging the items differently, and producing a mixer, with ice and some water in it, before moving back, the red blinking changing, slower. "Sean, do you see the red light?"
"I ah, yeh?" Sean blinked, refocusing.
"Pick up the mixer and try and shake, to the light. Rhythmic."
Sean nodded and picked up the metal container, starting to shake, eager to get it over with quickly, he could feel the creases in the apron from his erection but he needed not to focus on it. The rhythm was whats most important, the ice inside sloshing, each shake proving a satisfying clank, timing with the red...pulsing...evenly. Clank, pulse, clank, pulse, clank...pulse.
"That's it, good. Just focus on that rhythm. I'm glad I'm able to help you with this I know quite a bit. Just, focus on the rhythm. Let your mind focus entirely on it, the pulse, and the noise.
Sean didn't even nod but he was listening. The man's words slipped in so easily as he focused on the shake and the pulse and the noise. Concentration erasing thoughts just focusing on the pulse...and clank...even as time seemed to stretch between every second. He didn't even notice the cameraman approaching, thoughtless.
The, ironically, coffee colored hands wrapped around Sean's waist, the tingling returning, even though the youtuber showed no more awareness, lost in the repetitive motion. The voice returned, the other pressed close, "So good. For me. Just let that sound continue, let everything become wrapped up in it. Your consciousness stuck there, even as you do hear me, and what I say, they just slip in. You want this shoot to be good. You don't want to make this awkward for me. You just need to obey, quickly as possible. Not process. Not question. *Not think.* Nod."
And Sean nodded, conscious mind absorbed into the rhythm, unconscious mind obeying without question.
"Good. So good for me. You're my best so far. So desperate to have this go well...I suppose because of, this." Nails traced over Sean's bulge, running along the outline, and crossing over it. Even with that, the Irishman gave no response. The cameraman chuckled, and pondered, before speaking again, "Keep the rhythm. Keep the pulse, in your mind. But set the mixer down. Stay pliant. Stay enraptured. Stay obediant."
And Sean did. Even as the metal mixer was placed on the counter, and he stared off into the distance in another direction, he could still hear the clack, still see the pulse, still have to keep the shaking, on rhythm. Staying good.
The hands gingerly undid the green apron, and discarded it, before slipping under the shirt of the hypnotized influencer. They glided over the pale skin, feeling the muscles, the heartbeat of Sean, a pulse of its own. They crossed his chest, as he was pulled close, the other framing his body and lifting the shirt away, with still, no reaction from Sean. The cameraman nibbled on the back of Sean's neck, marking, tasting, teeth dragging over the flesh and claiming it, even as the hands shimmied the pants down, leaving the other in only a small piece of tight grey fabric, doing nothing to hide his arousal. The voice whispered in Sean's ear once more.
"Alright. Now, we just need to make the coffee now don't we. Milk, and mixing." Two tingers curled around Sean's cock, stroking it. "You'll provide the milk, of course, that's how it's done~ Then, we'll mix it up inside you~ If you understand, beg for it."
"Please, let's make the coffee, I'll make th' milk, and you'll mix it up." Sean's mouth fell open, the words accompanied by a moan, pleasured.
"Good boy. Let's get to it then shall we?" The boxers were peeled off, and the cameraman grabbed a cup. Rolling back Sean's foreskin, he began to jack him off, still working on his neck as he worked marks into it. Sean's hips thrust unconsciously, eyes going half lidded as he was consumed by sensation. He was being good, he was feeling good, everything good, just the rhythm, pulse, throb, clank, so good...
The cameraman gave a satisfied smirk as Sean devolved into making such pretty little noises, repositioning him slightly so it was all caught in the recording.
Sean was relaxed into his arms, supported by him, muscular form, his to toy with and enjoy. Each stroke broke him down more, reducing him to guttural noises of pleasure before, eventually, with a cry, Sean hunched slightly, and came, the cup catching the cum. Spurt after spurt of the white liquid released, but when it began to taper off, the stroking resumed on the sensitized flesh. The Irishman could only whine, as he was manhandled, milked. A thumb ran over the sensitive head, sensations coursing through him. He could feel another bulge pressing against him from behind, subconsciously. He was doing well. The praises of the man behind him confirmed it, so good, so obedient, perfect. All Sean wanted to be.
Another release milked out, cup now as pale as the others skin, was collected and a murmur said, "That's enough. Now, we just need to mix it all up. On the counter. On your back. Face the camera. Hold your legs up, and show your hole."
Sean obeyed, climbing up on the cool counter, staring up at the nearly empty ceiling, and spreading, grabbing his hair-covered thighs, and showing his pink, completely virgin hole. It was just what he was supposed to do. He was here to learn. The cameraman circled around, running a hand over the furred ass of the youtuber. He placed the cup down and stripped off, showing a decently built cappuccino complexion with curls of dark hair dusted over. His hand dipped into the cup, and gathered some of the seed, bringing it up, and stroking his cock with it, lubing, to creampie the Irishman with his own cream. His other hand circled the hole, smacking Sean's ass before framing the bud, and then a single finger pushed in. Sean moaned, muscles shaking from the intrusion.
"Oh, you haven't felt anything yet. Coffee machines go through a lot of, pounding and pressing. Get ready."
"Yeh...ohn it...feck..." Sean panted, eyes pressing shut, getting ready, as the finger retreated, and the hot tip pushed up against his hole. He had only a second before it was forced in, Sean gasping as his vigin ass was violated.
The cameraman just looked down, as inch after inch sank into the other, lubricated with Sean's seed as it was, it was not as painful as it could have been, but there was absolutely some sadistic pleasure in having such a muscular man in pain with no ability to fight back.
When the man bottomed out inside him he began to pull out,and then pushed back in. The pain was likely to pull Sean out, so he looked over his shoulder, and synched the slamming with the pulsing of the light. The stirrings of Sean's consciousness, awakened by self preservation, were soon quelled, as the feeble recognition of the rhythm sucked it right back into its thought loop. Pound, throb, pulse, pound, throb pulse.
The cameraman bent over him, supporting himself on the muscled chest, squeezing the pecs appreciatively as he pounded, using the youtuber like any other hole. Looking at his zoned out face he smirked, and spat on it to test how deep Sean was. No reaction as the saliva splattered across the face and beard. Satisfied, he redoubled his pace, spearing into Sean's hairy hole, beginning to pant himself. It had been so easy, and now the hunk was his. Utterly. He could feel how tight the hole was around him, the straight man totally anally unsullied before this. But now the pink rim was stretched around the cameraman's dark cock. That sight only worked him up more, and he reached down, frantically stroking Sean's cock as well, wanting to make a true masterpiece picture.
Sean's moans intermingled with his, as they grew closer together, he could see the abs riding and falling with each hasty breath, and with a final shove, he buried his cock completely in the helpless man, and came.
With the flood of warmth inside, the idea of him being a good coffee mixer, cream all stirred up, and the stroking, Sean spilled as well. The first few shots were gathered by the cameraman, who spread it over Sean's chest, but let the rest dribble out, painting the pubic area with it.
The man murmured once more, "Peerrfect~ When I pull out. Keep holding your thighs and hole open. Look up to the camera and smile. Amd remember. Whenever you see a red pulse at that frequency. Remember your rhythm. Be good. Alright?"
"Yeh...I get it..." Sean falteringly replied as the other man drew out of him with a slick pop, seed dripping out of his hole, running down his skin and dripping on the counter. The curls disappeared behind the camera, and there was a flash, the recording stopped and a final picture taken.
When the cameraman came back around, he gathered Sean's clothes, and set them down beside him. "In ten minutes, you will wake up. Removed from the rhythm. You will not believe anything is wrong, the cum, the pain, the nudity nothing. You will get dressed and continue your life as normal. But you will remember. Your rhythm."
Sean nodded, as the cameraman packed up the camera and screen connected to it and left. Seed still dripped out of his hole, thoroughly violated, as the cum on his abs, chest, and the spit on his face remained.
Sean blinked, letting his sore legs go, and stretched on the cool counter. Definitely an exhausting photoshoot but, seems he had gotten caught up in it. He gingerly sat up, wincing as he sat on the counter, ass level with it and getting soaked in the mixed seed. He hopped down and walked around to get the soreness to a manageable ache, and redressed, the shirt, pants, and boxers only smearing in the cum more. He didn't even wipe off his face, just thinking it perfectly normal as he gathered up the props, and limped out.
In a week, he had a picture of him, looking a bit zoned out, shaking the mixer. The cameraman had another picture, and the entire recording.