Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
“And…we’re done,” Thomas said.
Scott flopped back on the bed, panting. It had been a long day of shooting the underwear scene. They’d had a break for lunch, and again a few hours later, when Scott ripped the blue knickers after being overzealous with his jerking.
Thomas had gone in search of Janice, who cleaned on Mondays as well as Saturdays and Thursdays and also happened to be skilled with a needle. She hadn’t asked why, just sighed, and snatched the knickers out of Thomas’s hand.
“You good?” Thomas asked.
Scott inwardly cursed at the shiver down his back.
It had been another day where praise had been the key to the performance.
He’d enjoyed doing what Thomas told him to.
Even when Thomas got frustrated, and was obviously unsatisfied, it only made Scott’s reaction more intense when he finally got it right.
“I’m good.”
“We got there in the end…”
Scott rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand. “You mean when I finally stopped rolling around like a teenage girl?”
“You were giving off slumber party vibes. I thought you might start bashing about the pillows to get the feathers flying.”
“Fuck. You.”
“As I said, we got there in the end. FYI –”
“Nope. You don’t say that.”
Thomas snorted. “For your information, the downward dog and whatever weird spin you tried to put on it didn’t work.”
“Why not?”
“Have you ever seen John Carpenter’s In the Mouth of Madness?”
“I can’t say I have.”
“There’s this really creepy scene, you reminded me of that.”
“I don’t even know what that is, but still… Fuck. You.”
Thomas tossed Scott’s phone onto the bed. “Seriously, look it up, type these exact words –”
“No.”
“In the Mouth of Madness, reverse head crawling.”
Scott snatched up his phone, flaring his nostrils as he searched for the video. He could feel Thomas’s amused eyes watching him. Scott pressed play, inwardly grossed out by the scene playing on screen, but he shrugged in reply to the comparison. “I think she looks hot…”
Thomas burst out laughing. “Well, you didn’t.”
Scott held his thumb up. “My self-esteem thanks you.”
“But the cat stretch, when I filmed the gusset…” Thomas made an okay sign with his hand. “That was gold.”
“Never say that again.”
“Which part?”
Scott wrinkled his nose. “Gusset.”
Thomas smiled. “The lighting, the underwear, the soft bedding, and the new drapes. It was sensual, sexy, playful and cute.”
“Your compliment had nothing to do with me.”
“And you were great, Scott.”
Scott rolled over to face the other way. Thankfully, his cock was too worn out to get hard. He listened as Thomas unclipped the B-roll camera that had been recording the top of the bed.
“How was it?” Thomas asked.
“How was what?”
“Wearing women’s underwear.”
Scott sat up and looked down at himself. He tugged the knickers. “These were surprisingly comfortable, and…”
“And?”
“I think you’re right about the colour. They look good on my skin. I think black underwear would’ve washed me out, made me look sickly.”
Thomas bowed. “Thank you for trusting me, although you didn’t trust me that much; you insisted we bought both colours.”
“You were right, and I was wrong. I’ll admit it.”
“Damn,” Thomas hissed.
“What is it?”
“I wanted to catch you saying that on film. Next time maybe.”
Scott rolled his eyes. “That was a one-time only deal.”
“We’ll see.”
Scott touched the bottom of his bra. “The knickers I like, but this…”
“What’s wrong with it?”
He pulled the underwire away from his skin. “It digs in like a bitch.”
Thomas placed the camera on the side and came over. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“It wasn’t a big deal.” Scott shrugged. “I’ve only really noticed now we’ve stopped, now the adrenaline has faded.”
And now he was no longer distracted by his reaction to Thomas.
He rubbed his chest.
“Turn around,” Thomas ordered.
Scott did as he was told and straightened his spine for Thomas to unclip him.
“Better?”
“Much.” Scott smiled over his shoulder. He stroked the red indent in his skin. “How do women go through this pain every day?”
“They’re probably intelligent enough to get a bra that fits.”
“We needed to get out of that shop as fast as possible before the assistant had an asthma attack.”
“Still, Carly said you should’ve had your measurements done.”
Scott frowned. “When did she say that?”
“This morning on the group chat.”
“Group…chat.”
“Yes.” Thomas’s brow furrowed. “They also said blue looks better than black, but I didn’t want to rub it in how wrong you were.”
“They?”
“Tim, Carly, Jay and Janice.”
Scott covered his face with his hand. “How much have you told them?”
Thomas shrugged. “Pretty much everything. They’re relieved I’m doing something other than petting my snake.”
“Snakes.”
“That’s what I meant to say.” He checked his watch. “Speaking of which, I need to get our dinner sorted, then I can feed them. Go shower.”
Scott slipped off the bed and headed for the bathroom.
“Oh and Scott…”
He turned to look at Thomas.
“That subscriber is going to be one happy man.”
Scott closed the bathroom door and rested his head against it.
The best thing about being an escort, other than the money, was pleasing people.
Scott liked to adapt to whoever his customer was and do everything in his power to make sure they had a good time.
Their version of a good time usually involved coming inside him, either his mouth, or his hole, and sometimes multiple times.
Scott loved it.
He loved making men come apart. He loved them gripping his hair, moaning as they got close and thanking him like he was a god afterwards.
It gave him a high.
Thomas wasn’t interested in Scott’s mouth or his hole.
As far as Scott could tell, he never got hard during filming.
His voice never sounded affected.
He didn’t have to readjust his jeans.
The only way Scott could please him was by following Thomas’s direction until he fit whatever vision was driving the shoot. Getting it right gave him the same euphoric high as bringing a man to orgasm.
Scott pushed off from the door and started the shower. He stood under the warm spray with his face directed down and touched himself.
He didn’t touch his cock, but his chest, dragging his fingers over his ribs until he shivered. His neck was sensitive, and he scratched his nails, loving the rush of sensation that went down his arms. He might have been stood in a warm shower, but his hairs lifted with an addictive chill.
Scott closed his eyes to enhance the sensation.
He pinched, and squeezed, scratched and stroked, until his hand drifted down, not to his cock, but towards his arse.
It felt forbidden, and he didn’t know why; he’d pushed his fingers into himself many times before, stretching his hole, preparing for someone’s cock, but there was no date lined up.
No cock to fill him, and he still brushed two fingers over his rim before snatching his hand away and telling himself no.
He wasn’t going to do that in Thomas’s shower.
He only needed to do that when he was getting ready for a night out with a customer.
Rarely did the men he slept with think about stretching and lube.
They wanted to push straight in when the moment came, and Scott got his body ready for it for both his and their benefit.
Sometimes he worried he might have given the impression all men had self-lubricating arseholes.
Scott shook his head and went back to showering as he pushed the strange thought of touching himself there away.
Thomas was waiting for him in the kitchen once he was done. He’d already laid the table and warmed up their dinner for the evening.
Scott thanked him, sitting down, and they ate their meal in comfortable silence.
Once they were done, Scott loaded the dishwasher and put it on. Usually, Thomas vanished to feed his snakes at that point in the evening, but he stood behind Scott, waiting.
“Do you want to watch?” Thomas asked.
Scott’s first thought was no, no he did not want to watch Thomas feed his terrifying snake collection, but he bit his tongue, held his immediate response in check, then nodded.
Apart from clambering in through the secret passageway when Thomas had told him not to, Scott hadn’t been in that room again.
Without another word, Thomas turned around and left the kitchen.
Scott hurried after him.
Despite seeing the room before, it was still a shock to Scott’s senses.
The floor, the ceiling, and the walls between huge tanks were painted with tropical leaves and vines.
Jungle music filled the room, the cackle of birds and the screech of howler monkeys, but Scott couldn’t see the speakers, and the track didn’t repeat itself.
Thomas had lit the room with greens and reds, and that colour combination, matched with the walls, made Thomas hard to spot if he stood still for too long.
It looked like there were a pair of blue jeans and a black T-shirt suspended in mid-air.
Thomas pointed at the door they’d come through. “Wait there.”
Scott did as he was told, frowning when Thomas crossed the room. All the furniture had been painted to match the floor and walls.
On the menu for the snakes were rats, mice and a plump, feathered chicken that Thomas told him had been thawing.
“Ring the bell,” Thomas mumbled.
Scott glanced at it, attached to the wall, the only thing that looked out of place in the jungle. He yanked the string dangling from the bottom, and it rang out.
Thomas nodded, and Scott did it again, and again.
The gay snakes slammed their bodies against the glass.
“Holy fuck.” Scott shuddered.
They reminded him of horror movies, not of Anaconda, but of zombie films where the undead beat restlessly at the windows and doors, wanting to devour the humans inside.
The snakes were uncoordinated, knocking into the glass.
Thomas’s low chuckle met Scott’s ears.
“Relax,” he said. “They won’t hurt you.”
Scott didn’t believe him.