Chapter 6
Chapter six
Setting up the profile didn’t require much effort. All it needed was a portrait picture of Scott’s face, lips slightly parted, cheeks slightly sucked in, neck extended, but chin down, and there were Scott’s top tips on nailing the profile picture.
He stripped off and snapped a thigh-to-head photo of himself in the bathroom mirror after he’d just got out of the shower, damp tight boxer shorts, wet hair, gleaming skin, and nipples tightening as his body temperature cooled.
The hard work came when Scott had to kneel on the bed, and…well…come. He had to stroke himself to completion while groaning softly and fluttering his lashes every so often. It was supposed to be sexy, but that didn’t mean Scott’s mind stayed on sex.
It wandered, spinning random thoughts around in his head.
Thoughts like…where the hell was Lucy, the deadly snake?
Were there really man-eating deer in the woods opposite the house?
And what was Thomas doing at that exact moment?
Scott’s mind and body were too separate things at times, but they merged back together when they needed to…like when a shiver tickled his spine and his cock tingled, warning of his imminent orgasm.
He moaned as he shot his load onto the white sheet, masking his disappointment over his cumshot. It needed to go further, come out thicker, preferably the ideal shot would be hitting the camera with a visible stream.
He’d have to try again the next day; it would only get thinner from the first time onwards.
The website charged a small fee to all members, and then they could scroll through the content and profiles, find what they were looking for and subscribe to that account.
Scott’s videos were designed to entice viewers into subscribing, but he had no clue what content he would offer them once they had.
First, he needed to hook them, then he could aim to satisfy. In that regard, it wasn’t too different to escorting. It all started with the book cover. He needed to be a sexy book cover to compete with all the other hundreds of thousands on the site.
Scott sighed, squirted more lube into his hand, and tried again.
He came three times and checked the footage after each orgasm.
Knuckles rapped on his door.
“Come in,” Scott called.
Thomas stepped into the room before scoffing and shielding his eyes. “Jesus, Scott!”
“It’s only an erection,” Scott defended, grabbing a pillow to cover himself. “Surely you’ve seen one before.”
“I would rather not see yours.”
“Don’t come over during working hours.”
Thomas lowered his hand. “Working hours?”
“Yes, nine until five. They’re my working hours.”
“I won’t make the same mistake twice.” Thomas flared his nostrils. “How’s it going anyway?”
Scott’s shoulders dropped. “I thought it would be easy, but…”
“But what?”
“I’ve only made ￡100.”
He had all five videos up, and views were climbing, but not many people had subscribed after seeing his freebies, only two members paying fifty pounds a month.
“￡100 is good for…” Thomas checked his watch. “Three hours work.”
“It’s not good enough,” Scott replied, reaching for his phone. “And if you don’t mind, I’d like to carry on.”
Thomas held up his hands and backed out of the room.
He closed the door.
Scott sighed and grabbed the phone off the mattress to film himself again. He tried different angles; he tried edging himself and jerking off fast and furious. He licked his hand clean every time, humming at the taste of his own cum, then he flopped back onto the bed, panting.
It didn’t feel the same as escorting.
It felt, in a word, humiliating.
Thousands of people had watched his first video, and rather than turn them on, he’d turned them off and they’d scrolled on to someone else.
He only had twenty likes on a video that had been seen 52,000 times.
Thomas knocked on the door again a few hours later. “Are you done masturbating?”
“Yes,” Scott said, dragging his disappointed gaze from his phone and the twenty-one likes.
“Then come upstairs and eat.”
Scott rolled out of bed and got dressed.
Thomas looked him up and down when he came out of the room.
“For a man who’s just had five orgasms, you don’t look very happy.”
“Six,” Scott corrected. “And the fun quickly fades when it’s your own hand and you’re distracted by man-eating deer and the waning consistency of your ejaculate.”
“Were the deer barking again?”
Scott shook his head. “And we’ve been over this. They don’t bark. They neigh.”
Thomas snorted as he led the way to the spiral staircase. He wore the key for the door on a chain around his neck, and the door unlocked with a clunk.
“It’s spaghetti bolognese,” Thomas said. “With olive bread and a lemon thyme and basil garnish.”
“That sounds…incredible.”
“It is,” Thomas said with a nod.
“Hey, remember that squash and lentil soup they served us inside?”
Thomas shuddered. “I remember the days afterwards. I remember how badly our wing stank and that inmates were trading weed for toilet paper.”
“And coke for Imodium.”
“You know it’s bad when people would rather a hard shit than a high.”
Scott wrapped his arms around himself and laughed. Thomas’s mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile, and he picked up the pace, walking in front of Scott.
Scott’s eyes widened when he stepped into the kitchen. Thomas had set the table.
“Wow.”
Thomas stiffened. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s…nice.”
“It’s cutlery, plates and napkins…”
“And a candle.”
“What?” Thomas spun to face the table.
“Got you.” Scott snorted, taking a seat.
“Arsehole,” Thomas muttered beneath his breath as he went to microwave their meal. “Will you need help eating?”
Scott frowned. “Help?”
“I imagine your right hand is pretty tired.”
“Luckily for me, I’m ambidextrous.” He held up his hands. “Double the fun.”
“You won’t be saying that when you have arthritis in both wrists in your forties.”
“That’s a future me problem.”
Thomas microwaved the box, gave it a stir, then returned it to the microwave. He used the oven gloves to bring it to the table, then shared it equally between them.
“Thank you,” Scott whispered.
They ate in silence. The comfortable kind. At Brixton, they got their meals from the canteen and returned to their cells to eat them on their laps side by side. There were tables on the wing, and a few times a week, they’d sit with others, but mostly it had been just them.
Thomas finished first and dabbed his mouth on a napkin.
“I have some thoughts I’d like to share.”
Scott widened his eyes, glancing down at the dish. “I’d say it’s one of the best things I’ve had in my mouth, but let’s hear your opinion.”
“I didn’t mean about the meal.” Thomas pulled out the chair beside him and picked a tablet and a pair of glasses from the seat. He pushed his plate away, placed the tablet in front of him and slipped on the glasses.
“You wear glasses?”
“Reading ones, yes.”
Scott frowned. “You only have one working eye.”
Thomas blinked. “Are you saying I shouldn’t be able to wear glasses?”
“Not at all, but I think you’d look badass with a monocle.”
Thomas nodded. “That’s something to think about, now…my thoughts.”
He peered over the top of his glasses, waiting for Scott.
“Please share,” Scott said, then he shoved a forkful of twirled-up spaghetti into his mouth.
“Number one. When you groan, you sound like a dying animal.”
Scott spluttered spaghetti onto his plate. He heaved and banged his fist to his chest to fully clear his airway. “Wait. What?”
“Number two. The camera is too shaky. You’re moving it around too much and too fast. I had to take some paracetamol and lie down in a dark room after watching your third video.”
“You’ve been watching my videos?”
“Of course, I’m bored and have nothing to do.”
“You freaked out when you saw my erection.”
“It’s different in the flesh. Number four. You need to change the sheet between videos.” Thomas grimaced. “I mean… Come on…”
Scott’s cheeks caught fire. “Please stop,” he murmured, catching his face in his hands.
“Number five. You need to remove your clothes from the top of the bed.”
“They’re amateur videos,” Scott argued. “It’s supposed to look rough and ready, like I shouldn’t be doing it. Like it’s…forbidden or something.”
“If you’re going down the taboo or forbidden route, you’ve got it all wrong.
You’re twenty-nine, Scott, not eighteen.
You’re not in your bedroom in your parents’ house, having a quick tug on yourself while Aunt Margaret and Uncle Basil are downstairs eating crumpets in the living room with Mum and Dad. ”
“But people online don’t know that, and who the hell are Aunt Margaret and Uncle Basil?”
“Number six –”
Scott groaned. “How many more complaints are there?”
Thomas’s brow furrowed as he considered the notes on his tablet. “Number six isn’t really a complaint. It’s more of an observation.”
Scott sighed. “What did you observe?”
“You eat an alarming amount of your own cum.”
“Oh my God.” Scott groaned, pushing his chair back. He leaned over, almost hiding his face beneath the table. “Thomas…”
“Are you perhaps lacking in vitamin C or maybe magnesium or sodium? There are other, more efficient ways of getting those nutrients. This meal included.”
“It’s hot.”
“If it’s hotter than body temperature, then something is probably wrong.”
“No, I meant…” Scott lifted his head. “People like to see it. They find it…arousing.”
Thomas screwed up his face. “I get that, but every single time, Scott…”
Scott shrugged, and Thomas shook his head.
“I thought you’d just got a taste for it.”
“No, I much prefer other people’s, but it’s only you and me here.” Scott flashed pretty-please lashes at Thomas.
Thomas recoiled. “You’d better not be asking me what I think you’re asking for.”
“A beaker of your cum?”
“There’s something seriously wrong with you.”
“I’ll flick it at my face, make it look like someone is ejaculating on me, then lick it up.”
Thomas narrowed his eyes to slits. “No.”
“I’ll pay you.”
“It’s an even bigger no.”