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Nice, warm currents began to spread throughout Chris’s midsection. “You can add another one.” The idea was to get him to loosen, but not too much.
“When we meet Ethan and Anthony this Friday, I need you to behave better,” Jay said and slid another finger in. “Whatever’s going on between you and me, I told you they should never know.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You don’t need to say it; it’s in the way you act. Just pay attention, and do better. If I can pretend, so can you.”
“You know damn well it’s not the same.”
“True, but you’re the best liar in the world—so lie.”
He wasn’t going to waste time arguing with the man who had labeled him as the source of all evil. Besides, the last thing Chris wanted was for either Ethan or Anthony to know he was being pimped out by Jay. Ethan had been so happy with having the old group back together, and finding out what was going on behind his back would break his heart.
But, in a twisted way, that was also Chris’s secret weapon. If Ethan and Anthony were to learn what Jay had been forcing him to do, they would likely cut him off. Jay must have known that as well, hence his request for Chris to “behave better.” He would keep faking until he couldn’t take it anymore, and then the tables would turn. The only reason he’d been holding back was his hope that Jay would soon get over his grudge, preventing Chris from hurting Ethan and Anthony.
“Okay,” Chris said. “I’ll try harder around them.”
Jay nodded. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around those two turning into… whatever they are.”
“Happy?”
“Yeah, I know they’re happy.” He shrugged. “I still would’ve preferred if E still played for the straight team. The Obama years messed everybody up. Anyway, you’re going to make the new client happy?”
He tried to do a shitty job when they had just started this, but Jay’s response had been severe. “I’ll make him happy.”
Jay twisted his fingers, causing Chris to clench his fists and curl his toes. “For what he’s paying, he deserves first-class service, and there’s no one who can do it better than you.” The knock on the front door made Jay pull his fingers out. “It’s showtime. Make me proud.”
*
Jay always asked the men who came to the apartment which music they liked to listen to during sex. The guy who’d just arrived apparently loved heavy metal since Chris could hear Metallica coming from the living room. It wasn’t very loud, but loud enough to make him worry Jay might not hear him in case of trouble.And this guy did ask about hitting.
The music got louder when the man entered the room, then quieter when he shut the door. Chris stared at the ceiling, knowing he shouldn’t make eye contact unless the man addressed him. He reminded himself that in about an hour, he’d be on his way home, to sanity.
The man took off his shoes by the side of the bed. Based on the shadow on the wall, he didn’t seem big. Although, being tied down made every size a possible threat. Chris jerked when the man suddenly touched his right thigh. The fingers circled his old scar, although that had never been the first thing anyone wanted to touch.
The bed springs squeaked when the man sat down. He moved his hand to cover Chris’s eyes, and with his other hand slid two fingers into his mouth. The fingers didn’t feel long or thick, boding well for the possibility of a small cock.
Chris sucked on the fingers and ran his tongue between them, letting out soft, fake moans of pleasure. He could fake pleasure like nobody's business. The fingers slipped out of his mouth and moved to his chest, giving a wet pinch to each nipple. He puffed his chest out and whispered, “Feels good.”
“I bet. And my, how the mighty have fallen.”
The voice struck like lightning. The hand lifted from Chris’s eyes, who gingerly tilted his head toward the sitting man.
“Surprise!”
Chris opened his mouth, not sure if he was going to speak or scream “fire!”,but before he could decide, Mickey swiftly shoved one of his socks deep into Chris’s mouth. His blood burned. This was a disaster.Did Jay set this up?No, he couldn’t have known about Mickey. Chris was good at keeping the monsters apart.
“You must be wondering what’s going on.” Mickey climbed on the bed and sat on Chris’s lower stomach. He was anything but big, but his weight was enough to put uncomfortable pressure on Chris’s lower back.
“There’s a Telegram group for people who are looking to pay for discreet fun. I never met anyone through that group because, as you know, my needs are fulfilled through The Gentlemen’s Club, but I do occasionally enjoy checking what’s out there.” Mickey smiled, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “You can only imagine my confusion when I stumbled upon photos of a naked man with a leather mask. I looked closer, and then I noticed it.” He ran his fingers across Chris’s scar. “I thought I must be mistaken, but I have seen you naked before in my office, remember? I had no choice but to accept that the man being offered to the highest bidder was indeed the charming Chris Roberts.”
That stupid scar. It never occurred to him that it might give away his identity. The sock in his mouth absorbed his spit, leaving his mouth parched. But what would he even say?
“I hope you’re not angry,” Mickey said. “I mean, I did pay generously for this hour, and I have no intention of fucking you, so technically, you’ve got a good deal!” He massaged his chin. “Or is it your pimp who got the good deal? How are you two splitting the profit? Is there a written contract? Should I go over it for you?”
Chris growled in anger, and Mickey laughed. “Oh, I’m just having a bit of fun. You know me. Now, I’m going to remove this ridiculous mask because I already know what I’ll find beneath.”
Chris lay still as Mickey unzipped his mask and removed it. The fresh air on his flushed face didn’t make his heart beat any slower. He waited for Mickey to pull out the sock, but he didn’t. He did however get up and moved to lay on his side, his head resting on his elbow. He placed his palm on Chris’s chest, above his heart. “Are you upset?”
