[E.P.I.C] Nanami 01

NANAMI 01

For E.P.I.C Roleplaying Community

Characters

Rikiya Nanami, Director

Bernardo Abano, Director

Balalaika, Actress and Accountant

On no-shooting days, except the general staffs, no one bothered to come at all. However, Nanami liked quiet days better. Now, he was in the office, alone, concentrating on his scripts. As fas as he knew, the other person that came to work today was Balalaika, an AV transgender actress who also had a duty here as an accountant, since she came into the office from time to time to get herself a drink. He hadn’t seen anyone else.



Nanami had been here writing since he punched in at noon, having his all-meat lunch while trying to be creative. He needed something for the next film. Something better than ever. Even if they were producing pornos which nothing more than moans, big boobs and cum were expected, Nanami still want to make a big difference for god-knows-what.


A story.


He wanted to write a wonderful story but everything seemed to be a bad idea. Swinging married couples story was too boring. Teenager gay sex in the locker room was told again and again like an old myth. Fishermen gang bang at Tsukiji fish-market was impossible to film. Muscular guy masturbating with a rilakkuma doll sounded idiot enough everyone could laugh at it. Everything seemed to be a very awful idea.


But he kept writing.


Even though he thought his fantasies were absurd, sometimes disgusting, he took a note of all of it anyway. He called it his fantasy, not a sexual fantasy, because it couldn’t lead him to any desires. He somehow felt wrong that what he wrote for pornographic movies couldn’t stirred up even his own sexuality. He wasn’t impotent. He masturbated. He fantasized. He watched Korean girls dancing on Youtube and successfully had turn-ons. But these porno things, per se, weren’t motivating. It couldn’t be something people would jack off to.


Nanami wrote the last letter of his perverted fantasy in the notebook then dropped the pen. He took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes, thinking he would go grab something from the fridge, may be a can of Pepsi, to change the mood. But then he looked down to the notebook again and saw the fuck he just wrote. He started to have a second thought about Pepsi. Maybe he could use something stronger than caffeine.


The office was more like a multi-purpose room. In the past, it had been furnished with shelves, cabinets and a working desk. But, after Mr. Helfer, Ehgo' president, had bought a refrigerator and a microwave, everyone started to hang out in here. The room had became too crowded and too noisy to work. There had been actors drinking coffee half-naked. There had been actresses laughing and giggling. The riot had been going on until one of the floaters complained that he couldn't hear the phone ringing. The president then decided to relocate the workplace. The office tools (and the staffs who actually worked) had been moved to the reception office. The president had bought a dining table set and a telly. The old office had become a living room, though, everyone still called it 'the office.'


Nanami liked this room. He could reach for the fridge whenever he felt the craving. However, he only worked in here when no one was around. Otherwise, he couldn’t concentrate on his writing or he would move to the staff meeting room where expensive tools such as computer and camera were kept. Directors and camera men assembled there only when they were summoned.


Nanami took out a can of Pepsi from the fridge, then leave it on the table. He didn’t drink it. He sat there quietly, looking at the scripts, elbows on the table, chin in his palms. Balalaika stepped into the office again. She threw a glance at him while pouring another cup of tea for herself. And then, as always, she left without saying a word. She didn't talk to him because she knew that Nanami hated being disturbed when he worked. If there was an urgent business, yes, she would speak to him, but a mere chit-chat could wait. Everyone knew.


“Then, I’ll leave first!”


“Os! Good work!”


Nanami lifted his face, just an inch to express an interest, when he heard Balalaika high-pitched voice and a familiar husky voice coming from the corridor. Then, the office’s door was thrown open.


Nanami’ fellow director, more like his boss, came in the office. The guy’s name was Bernardo Abano. Bernardo was a very big guy. He was old enough to be Nanami’ father. His gigantic muscular body could make Nanami, who was 6 feet tall, feel like he was a dwarf. Bernardo was an ex-porn actor who was now working as an AV director. Some people called him ‘Grizzly’ which had been his stage name and nickname since when he was an actor. That meant Bernardo had been this big since he was 18. Scary.


Nanami had never watched any films that starred the young Bernardo. Of course, he was a bit curious to see how Bernardo looked like in the movies but he didn’t want to see his workmate grunting or panting, not to mention watching Bernardo trusting and ejaculating. So he dropped his curiosity just for good.


“They are closing the office,” Bernardo said to him energetically. A genuine smile was shown across the big guy’s bearded face.


Nanami bent down to pick up his bag. “I didn’t know you are here.”


“I was talking to Nick in his office. Balalaika told me you were writing so I didn’t come in here.” Bernardo came closer. His playful grin broadened. “You have something to show me?”


Nanami shook his head. “No. Nothing.” He was going to say that the stories he had written were boring. But Bernardo knew him well. The director knew that Nanami believed everything he wrote was never good enough despite all his efforts. He would say they were terrible or lousy, even when they were real charming. Nanami wouldn’t let anyone read his notebook unless Bernardo made him read the stories aloud. So Bernardo kept ordering him to read. “Pick your favorite and read it to me.”


Nanami eyed his notebook for a second. He didn’t have to re-read as he remembered every letter he had put down. He couldn’t decide which one he liked better between Tsukiji gang banging and the last one he had written. Since filming at Tsukiji fish market was definitely a no-go, and illegal on top of that, finally, he chose the latter.


“Ranch boys.”


“What do they do?”


Nanami opened the notebook. He read the story. His face and voice were completely stoic. “A new hand came to a ranch in the stormy evening. He was all wet. His nipples and tool between the legs were showing off. He asked for a job. The ranch owner was more than willing to hire him. The other hands slept in an empty old barn. There wasn’t enough space for the newcomer, so the ranch owner signaled that he didn’t mind sharing the heat and the bed with the young boy. But the hand ain’t intrigued. He said he could sleep in the cow barn.”


“Lovely.” Bernardo chuckled. “Go on.”


The writer took a breather. “At night, while hands and maids were asleep, the ranch owner couldn’t not dream of the new hand, so he sneaked into the cow barn. Standing at the door, he heard a man breathing heavily. He thought the cowboy was having fun with a maid. But he didn’t hear girl’s voice. The panting and the deep moans belonged to a man, or men. ‘Was he fucking one of my hands? Maybe I could be a voyeur. I could jerk off to that.’ And so, the owner peeped through the barn stalls....”


Nanami looked unsure. He hesitated too long Bernardo had to spur him to continue his story telling. “You’re killing me, Ricky. Hurry up.” His voice became rather husky.


Being encouraged, Nanami read the next sentence. “.....What the ranch owner saw was the new guy standing behind a cow, wearing only hat and roper boots. He was fist fucking her...”


“A maid?” The listener frowned. ”I thought this is gonna be gay sex.”


“Not a maid.....” The stoic face suddenly reddened. ”He was inserting one hand into the cow’s rectum while masturbating.“


Bernardo held moment of silence.


To show a respect to Nanami or just to give himself time to delete the picture of a man fist fucking a cow while moaning ‘oh.... fuck yeah....’ from his head, he couldn’t tell which one was the objective of this moment of silence. He looked at Nanami who was looking at the floor. The younger guy’s face was as red as a barn.


Nanami wrote two types of story. Plainer than one could have thought or extremely weird one would want to arrest him. This was not the first time Nanami mentioned zoophilia or paraphilia. But fist fucking a cow? seriously? If they did make it into production, who’d buy it?


“What did the owner do then?”


The writer lifted his face. He licked his lips. “Umm,... On the next day, the owner told the hand angrily that he had seen everything. He told the hand that he had two choices. Being fired or being punished. The hand didn’t want to lose the job. He promised the owner he wouldn’t perform any sexual practices on any livestocks ever again but the owner couldn’t be so sure. ‘Animals feel things just like humans do. I’ll teach you what it feels like to be raped like you did to that cow,’ the owner said. The hand was fist fucked in the barn. He was tied to the barn stalls, forced to eat straw, and was played by the owner where cattles could see.”


Another moment of silence to delete the picture of a man being punched up the ass in the midst of mooing cows.


“How can you... Well, forget that I ask.” Bernardo sighed. He rested one hand on his hip, the other squeezed his temple. “We don’t have cows.”


“We could rent one.”


“We can’t penetrate the rented cow.”


“Vets penetrate them all the time. Cows won’t mind.”


“No. Rikiya.” Bernardo said firmly. “No.”


If Bernardo called him by his first name, Nanami knew that the director meant ‘no more arguing.’ Nanami scowled as if he wanted to say ‘then, why did you want to hear it in the first place?’ And then, he turned away.


“Don’t be like that. I like the idea of fist fucking, all right?”


This time, it was Nanami that held moment of silence. More like the moment of sulking.


“I like the ranch boys theme, too. But we can’t use cows.” Bernardo explained. “Don’t pout. I’m not scolding you.”


“I’m not pouting.” Nanami gathered the notebook and pen then put them into his bag recklessly.


“I call that pouting.”


Nanami glanced at him. Annoyance replaced the redness of embarrassment. “I’m really not.”


“Then, tell me you’ll write another one.”


”I’ll write another one.”


“I’ll ask Kanic if he want to be fisted. Fist fuck is welcome. But no zoos.”


“Fist fuck is welcome. But no zoos.” Nanami repeated after him.


“Good boy.” Bernardo pinched Nanami’ cheek. He grabbed the unopened Pepsi can on the table, threw it back in the fridge, then, put his strong arm on Nanami’ shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go.”


“What do you mean ‘let’s go’?” Nanami threw his leather bag across his shoulder. He raised his brows. He was sure that he hadn’t promised to go anywhere with Bernardo.


Bernardo tipped him a wink. “On Friday, we go drinking.”


Now, this was an intriguing idea.

- End -

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