Chapter 7
Chapter seven
Scott did not expect the nine-o’clock wake-up call the next morning. He lifted his head from being face down in a pillow and grunted in the direction of the door.
Thomas was dressed for the day in a pair of blue jeans and a black top that had the word DIRECTOR in bold white font.
“If you were my employee, I would’ve fired you for incompetence.”
“Wha…?”
“I thought your working day started at nine?”
Scott mouthed the word ‘director’ before replying, “It does.”
“It’s currently three minutes past nine.”
“Is it?”
“And you’re not dressed, or washed, and haven’t had anything to eat.”
Scott remained fixated on Thomas’s T-shirt. “Did you just buy that?”
Thomas looked down at himself. “No, I’ve had it for years. I was wondering when it would come in handy.”
Scott scrubbed his eyes. “Why would you buy that?”
“When you’re rich, you buy a lot of shit you don’t really want or need.”
“About that…why are you so rich? You never told me.”
Thomas tilted his head and went back to glaring.
“Did you inherit? Are you secretly a drug lord? Or a really good thief?”
“None of the above,” Thomas answered.
“I think your drug lord name would be Mr Slithers or…The Viper.”
“No. It would be Thomas the Drug Lord. Now get up and gather your things.”
“My things?”
“I’m moving you upstairs. I can’t traipse down here every day to invite you up for breakfast. I need to be able to holler at you from the hallway.”
“Does that mean I’ll get a key?”
“No.”
Scott slipped out of bed and tugged on his clothes from the day before. Thomas watched him with emotionless eyes.
“One sec,” Scott said before stumbling into the bathroom and relieving himself.
“Faster, Scott.”
He brushed his teeth, flossed, scraped his tongue and then gargled mouthwash before applying moisturiser –
“Come on,” Thomas hissed, no longer in the bedroom doorway but hovering in the bathroom one. “You can do all this once you’re upstairs.”
Scott shoved all his toiletries into his bag. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Homemade muesli with yoghurt and blueberries.”
Scott sighed. “I could get used to this.”
“One month,” Thomas reminded. “That’s your lot.”
Thomas backed out of the bathroom and scooped Scott’s charcoal-grey hoodie off the floor. He draped it over his shoulder as he led the way down the corridor, up the spiral staircase and into his quarters.
Thomas held the door open for Scott, and he stepped inside, waiting for Thomas to march ahead again and show him to his room.
“This one is for you to sleep in,” Thomas murmured, pushing a door open. He slipped Scott’s bag strap from his shoulder, then tossed it inside. The duffel hit the bed, then bounced off.
“Hey!” Scott snapped, stepping into the room. “I might have valuables in there.”
“Do you?” Thomas asked, gently laying Scott’s hoodie on the bed.
“No, but you didn’t know that.”
Thomas shrugged.
The room looked identical to the room Scott had stayed in downstairs, except there were only two doors.
“Bathroom and walk-in closet,” Thomas explained. “If you want to visit the snake room, you’ll have to go through the front door.”
“Want is the keyword here. I’m never going to want to go back into that room.”
Thomas snorted. “This way –”
“This way? I thought this was my room.”
“It is. The room you’ll be sleeping in.”
Scott followed Thomas out of the door with a frown. He was led further down the corridor. “This is the room you’ll work in,” Thomas said, gesturing to the room.
Scott’s eyes grew wide. The bedroom was double the size.
A four-poster gold bed was in the middle of the room, draped with thick fabric with red-and-gold patterns.
The sheets were a shimmering gold, smooth beneath Scott’s hand.
A camera on a tripod had already been positioned at the foot of the bed, along with a smaller camera at the side with its lens directed at the pillows.
“They’re goose feather,” Thomas explained, punching a pillow. “So is the duvet. It looks softer, and the sound it makes when you shift about will be muffled, gentler on your listeners’ ears. I’ve put waterproof covers on everything too.”
“That’s…good to know.”
Thomas wrinkled his nose. “We’ll wash the sheets every day.”
“I’m surprised you don’t want to burn them.”
“Want is the keyword,” Thomas echoed. “I do want to burn anything you touch, but it’s bad for the environment.”
Scott snorted, shaking his head. “It’s too early for this…”
“There’s a bathroom through there with a double shower and a smart toilet.”
“What makes it smart?”
Thomas squinted. “It’ll spray water up your arse. Keep you nice and clean, but I’m warning you, don’t use its most powerful jet. You won’t be able to walk for a week.”
Thomas strode over to the window and opened the curtains. They were thick, with the same embroidered diamond and swirl patterns as on the bed, and beneath them hung a sheer piece of fabric, protecting them from the sun’s harsh glare and lighting the room in a soft glow.
“I’ve put a lamp on the other side of the room,” Thomas said, pointing to it. “It has an amber bulb in it, but I kept the lights in the ceiling white. I don’t want to wash out your complexion, but equally, I don’t want you to look gold or yellow on camera.”
“O…kay…”
“I’ve ordered some blue embroidered drapes to hang from the bed frame. They’ll compliment your eyes, and your skin tone, but as they’re custom made, they’ll take a week or so to make.”
“Wait? Custom? That sounds expensive.”
“They are, but you’ve got to spend money to make it. We’re all set for today.” Thomas nodded to himself, looking around the room. “But first,” he said, turning back to Scott. “Breakfast.”
“Breakfast,” Scott agreed, scratching the back of his head.
“Then you can shower and do whatever it was I interrupted earlier.”
“I was moisturising,” Scott replied. “It’s part of my morning routine.”
“Yes.” Thomas waved a dismissive hand. “That. Then we can get started.”
“Thomas…” Scott said softly.
“What is it?”
Scott glanced around the room. “It looks great.”
Thomas looked at him for a long moment, then left the room with no further comment.
At Thomas’s direction, Scott removed his amateur masturbation videos but kept his profile pictures and his biography unchanged. He apologised to the one true subscriber and told them he’d be back soon with better content.
The subscriber didn’t respond.
“You ready yet?” Thomas asked.
Scott flicked his hair forward, then back over his head before stepping out of the bathroom. Thomas waited for him, holding a clapperboard.
“Where the hell did you get that?”
“I told you; I bought a lot of pointless things over the years.”
He gestured for Scott to get on the bed.
Scott crawled to the middle and propped his head up with one hand, gazing at Thomas with his most seductive look.
“No,” Thomas said.
Scott frowned. “What do you mean, no?”
“On your back.”
Scott lay down and stared up at the ceiling. There was no face, but for a moment, for the smallest of nanoseconds, he imagined it there.
Thomas snapped the clapperboard, and Scott jumped.
“That’s better,” Thomas said. “Much more natural.”
“What?”
“Your face won’t be in shot,” Thomas told him, taking the biggest camera off the tripod.
He got on the bed and stood over Scott. “You’re going to brush your hand down your abs and into your boxers.
When the waistband slips over the back of your hand, I want you to arch your back off the bed, stretch your abs, make your teeny-tiny belly button yawn. ”
“Yawn?”
“Just do it,” Thomas ordered, checking the camera. “Trust me.”
Scott huffed and did as Thomas told him.
Thomas grumbled, unimpressed. “Slower this time…”
Scott gritted his teeth, going for take number two.
Thomas sprang off the bed and put the camera to the side. “Keep practising.”
“It’s not exactly hard.”
“You’re sure making it look hard.”
Scott turned to face him. “What are you doing?”
“Swapping the bulb in the lamp for something a little brighter. The right side of your body is looking a bit orange.”
Thomas grabbed the camera and returned to the bed. He took his position above Scott and told him to try again.
Scott did. Again, and again.
But Thomas never smiled, he sighed in frustration.
“Do you like your body?” Thomas asked after the twentieth attempt. He lowered the camera to look at Scott, seemingly interested in the answer.
“Of course I like my body.”
“Then touch it like you do.”
Scott drew his eyebrows together. “What do you mean?”
“Try closing your eyes.”
“Why? You said they’re not even in shot.”
“They’re not, now close them.”
Scott exhaled a hard breath from his nose, then did as Thomas suggested. Thomas’s question had irritated him. Of course he liked his body, loved it in fact, his face too. It served him well; it paid the bills, but touching it while Thomas hovered over him made him shudder.
It was Thomas, not the feel of his own skin.
He was the problem.
“Stroke yourself.”
“I am,” Scott growled through his teeth.
“Feel how soft your skin is,” Thomas murmured. “Because it is soft, isn’t it?”
Scott frowned with his eyes shut. He dragged his fingertips down his abs and stroked his thumb over his belly button. “Yes,” he replied. “My skin is soft.”
He cringed at the awkwardness. He liked it when others stroked him, marvelling at his well-moisturised skin and being in awe of his suppleness, but he wasn’t a fan of saying it himself. It wasn’t for him; it was for ‘Tom, Dick, and Harry’ or whoever else had booked him for the night.
“And smooth,” Thomas whispered. “So beautifully smooth.”
Scott swallowed. “Yes. I’m smooth. I regularly have waxes, full-body ones.”
“Scott…” Thomas warned. “You’re breaking the mood. Shut up and touch yourself until something happens.”
Scott kept his eyes closed but relaxed his frown. He caressed his skin, slowing his touch when Thomas cleared his throat in an unimpressed manner.
It was stupid.
Humiliating.
But then Scott started to feel it.