Chapter Three
THEY’RE TEARING DOWN the red set when Arthur retraces his steps through the building. “No interruptions today, I see,” Therese says.
“Look, I need that information about Ward and Jameson. You said Empire is a rival studio, but aren’t there several? What do they have against you?”
She sucks her teeth, thoughtful. “You should probably ask Kit about that.”
“Ask me about what?”
Arthur turns. Kit stands behind him, still flushed and slightly sweaty. His eyes are a silvery blue, and his lips are pink and plump. Arthur scratches his head and forces his gaze to the ground. He suddenly doesn’t know what to say.
“He wants to know about Michael Ward,” Therese responds. “And Jameson.” Her face sours. “You know them better than I.”
Kit’s jaw clenches. Then his expression clears. He smiles. “Well, you did say you had some questions. I haven’t forgotten.”
Arthur nods. He looks around. “There isn’t a good place to discuss this here.”
“You don’t want to sit on the throne?” Kit gestures to the leather chair the Domme sat on.
“Where would you sit?” Arthur evens his breathing. He forces himself to focus on the questions he needs answered and not the prospect of sitting there, Kit kneeling at his feet, looking up at him with those swollen lips. Or worse, sitting there with Kit in his lap. He tells himself not to grind his teeth.
Kit looks him up and down, and his sky-colored eyes seem to catch on every part of him: shoulders, hair, jaw, chest, groin, and even his boots. “I know a place we can go, not far away. A diner.”
Arthur opens his mouth to answer but closes it. He tilts his head in agreement.
Therese rolls her eyes. “I think we’re done here. See you tomorrow. On time, Kit.”
“ARE YOU REALLY trying to fuck a porn star?” Jamie asks, handing him his earpiece.
Arthur looks over to where Kit is getting into his car. “No. I’m trying to keep everyone safe.”
“I’m going to remember you said that.”
“You do that. See you later.”
Jamie nods, slaps him on the shoulder, and climbs onto his motorcycle. “I’ll let you know what Cooper finds out.”
Arthur watches him drive off, zips his leather jacket, fastens his saddlebags, and starts his own bike.
THE DINER IS less than a mile away. It’s an old-fashioned joint with a long bar on the inside and booths along the windows. The place smells like beef patties, fry grease, and maple syrup. Arthur’s stomach rumbles. Kit sits in the corner booth, watching him. The waitress filling his coffee wears a blue dress and a white apron, and Arthur wonders if he’s stumbled into Twin Peaks or the 1950s. He slides in across from Kit and turns over his coffee cup. The waitress fills it. “Cream?”
“No.”
She slaps a plastic menu in front of him and leaves them be.
“You’re going to wish you got cream,” Kit says, stirring his cup. “It’s bitter this time of night.”
Arthur shrugs and takes a sip. The flavor isn’t bad. He likes his coffee a little burnt sometimes.
Kit watches him. Arthur pulls back his hands and places them in his lap. Kit quirks an eyebrow. “Are you hungry?”
Arthur shrugs.
“The patty melt is good.” He leans forward. “If you like meat, that is.”
“Hmm.”
“You aren’t a man of many words, are you? They do breakfast all day too. It’s nice if you’re a late sleeper. Sometimes I don’t bother getting out of bed before noon. In that case, I’d recommend a short stack. They’ll cook your bacon to order, so if you like yours crunchy or a bit chewy”—he makes a face—“they’ll take care of you.”
Arthur lifts an eyebrow.
“The hash is a little bland, if that’s more your thing, but the eggs are always perfect.”
“Huh.”
The waitress returns to their booth. “What’ll it be?”
“The usual,” Kit says, winking at her.
She offers up a smile, almost begrudgingly, and turns to glare at Arthur. “Patty melt and fries.” He stares at Kit as he hands her the menu and she walks away. “I like meat.”
Kit licks his lips. “I thought you might.”
Arthur takes another sip, and the heat adds to the flame in his stomach. He steels himself. “Michael Ward,” he says. Kit winces. “What’s the deal?”
Kit dumps sugar into his mug. He shrugs. “He’s in the business. We used to work together.”
Arthur frowns.
“Yes, like that. He’s known as a dom. Possessive.” He swallows, and Arthur watches his throat contract. “And he didn’t like it when I left.”
“You left Empire?”
“I left him.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. I have a personal life too.”
“I didn’t expect you to not.”
Kit nods. “Leaving Michael meant leaving Empire too. They’re a team, and I only ever worked there for him, anyway.”
“At Empire or in the business?”
Kit ignores the question. “Now since I’ve made a name for myself, Jameson wants me to come work for Empire again. And Michael is always trying to…attract me back. They offer money. Things along those lines.”
“Along the lines of money?”
“Oh, you know. Sex, drugs, power, etcetera.”
“All to get you to work for them?”
Kit taps a finger against the tabletop. “It isn’t about the work. It’s the for him part that matters.”
“He’s jealous?”
“Something like that. Regardless, I keep refusing. I like Terri and Nicole. They’re bossy as hell, but they make sure I’m comfortable.” He rolls his shoulders. “It makes my job a lot easier.”
“Fucking?”
Kit leans forward. “Oh, Arthur,” he purrs, “you already know this job is a lot more than fucking, don’t you?”
Kit’s voice draws something tight in Arthur’s gut. He’s smart enough to keep his mouth shut.
“Anyone can fuck. I can make you forget anyone else exists. I can make you feel like you’re the only man in the world—the only man I’ll ever see, ever think about, ever desire.” He places his hands flat on the table. “I can make you forget your own name.”
Arthur forces himself to sit still. The tightening shifts down, below his navel.
“You know, Arthur. I’ve seen you watching me.”
“You think this Ward guy would want to hurt you, since you won’t work with him anymore?”
“I think Michael Ward would want to hurt me whether I actively worked with him or not.”
“Well, we won’t let that happen.”
Kit’s mouth opens, and his brows knit together. His confusion is interrupted by two patty melts and two overloaded baskets of fries.
“When was the last time either of them contacted you?” Arthur asks.
Kit squeezes ketchup onto his fries. “Well…” He pulls out his phone, unlocks the screen, taps a few times, and hands it to Arthur. He’s pulled up a message thread, one-sided, which is full of pictures.
They’re pictures of Kit, and Arthur swallows hard. He scrolls through. There are pictures from last night’s filming, as well as other scenes: Kit in a suit getting his cock sucked, Kit skimming a pool in tiny shorts, Kit being fucked while sucking another guy, with another ejaculating on his skin.
In a different context, the images might be incredibly hot. Instead, Arthur feels an electric sort of rage run through him. “So, he was the attacker last night. He got this shot. Why the hell didn’t anyone—”
“It isn’t a bad picture, is it?” Kit muses. He sets the phone face up on the table and zooms in. He grins. “You were so shocked.”
“I wasn’t shocked.”
Kit hums in approval.
“This is very clearly stalking. You need a restraining order.”
“I have one.”
“So why hasn’t it been—”
“Arthur.” Kit eats a fry. “To them, I’m nothing but a glorified whore. Sex work is legal if it’s on camera, you know. We need to get through the next couple of weeks is all. We’ll do most of our filming for the year. Ten days—nights—of filming, sometimes two videos in one day. We release new content every two to three weeks.”
“You make enough money on two weeks of work?”
“I’ll do cam shows for subscribers, attend a few events.” He shrugs. “It’s enough to get by. And if it isn’t, we’ll do some filming out of the city. It’s just harder to coordinate scenes from different locations, with health checks and everything. Gotta keep the PASS check mark.”
“PASS?”
“Performer Availability Screening Service. The site clears you to work, health-wise.”
Arthur hums. He eats his patty melt. It’s good.
“What about you?” Kit asks between bites.
Arthur frowns. “Um. I got tested after my last relationship. It’s…been a while…”
Kit laughs. “No, no, I meant you, like, you. You’re a security guard?”
Arthur’s face burns. “I’m more of an investigator.”
“Like a cop.”
“No.” Arthur shakes his head. “Like I help people.”
“Is that a statement about the police?”
Arthur keeps his face neutral.
“So, you’re like a private investigator. How’d you get into that?”
“I was a soldier.”
“With your curly hair?”
“It isn’t curly, and I said was.”
“And here I can’t imagine you taking orders from anyone. I guess even the toughest and strongest like to be bossed around from time to time.” He pouts, and Arthur tries to keep his attention away from his lips.
“You might call it a special arrangement.”
“Like a spy?”
“Not exactly. Anyway, that’s all over. My team, we’re all civilians now. Independent contractors.”
“That’s good. Independence is good. Not a part of the military-industrial complex. Part of the prison-industrial complex, I suppose.” He makes a face.
“No. That isn’t it at all. Why are you asking me all these questions? I’m supposed to be asking you questions.”
Kit eats another fry. His burger is long gone, Arthur realizes. He shrugs. “Maybe I find you interesting. Big, sexy bad boy like you, with your leather jacket and your motorcycle, out there ‘protecting’ us adult film workers from our angry exes and would-be stalkers.”
Arthur ignores the steadily growing ache in his groin. He said I’m sexy. Calm down, Arthur. He’s glad his jeans are dark. Get a fucking grip. “He isn’t a would-be stalker. He’s showing up to your work. Sending you naked pictures of yourself.”
“Everyone has naked pictures of me.”
“Not everyone,” Arthur argues. “I don’t.”
“You don’t?” Kit sips his coffee. “Why not?”
Arthur narrows his eyes. It’s another trap, he can feel it.
Kit looks up at him through his eyelashes. “Do you want some?”
“What?”
Kit laughs, throaty and low. “All you have to do is search, dear.” He pushes his leg against Arthur’s under the table. “I wouldn’t mind.” The upward curve of his lips seems to promise something to Arthur. “I like the way you watch me, you know.”
Arthur blinks.
“What are you going to do after this?” He pushes his hair from his face. “Do you have someone at home you’re going back to? A wife and two kids?”
“No.”
“No to which question?”
“Both.”
“A husband and two kids somewhere?”
“No.”
“Interesting.” Kit pulls his leg away and scarfs down the rest of his fries.
A TEXT ARRIVES an hour after Arthur gets home. He’s lying in bed with his laptop open to an empty search page.
Got your number from Terri, the message reads.
Who is this?
Guess.
Arthur doesn’t reply. A few minutes later a follow-up arrives.
Fine. Since I know you’ll be too stubborn to find one yourself…
A picture follows. It’s Kit, and his hair is wet like he’s fresh out of the shower. He’s looking up at the camera, and the shot captures his head, chest hair, and a nipple but little else.
He types, I thought everyone had naked pictures, then immediately deletes the text.
Where’s mine? Kit sends.
I don’t do that.
Shame. I’ve seen the shape through your jeans, you know. You liked Bettie today. Or did you like me?
Arthur grips himself through his boxers. “Fuck,” he whispers.
Thanks for buying me dinner, Arthur. I owe you.
You don’t owe me anything.
Regardless, here’s more info on Michael.
He sends a link. Instead of clicking the hypertext, Arthur types the URL into his laptop.
He groans.
Kit.
It isn’t my real name, you know. None of us use our real names. Enjoy it, Arthur. Really.
The video is set in a hotel room. Kit, younger, sits on the bed. “This is K,” a voice says. “Say hi, K.”
“Hi,” Kit says. His voice is devastatingly innocent, and his smile is carefree and gorgeous. His hair is slightly shorter and styled differently.
“So, K, tell us a little about yourself.”
“Uh, well, I’m nineteen…” Arthur groans, shaking his head. He curses. “I’m a student.”
“What are you studying?”
“Music.” Kit grins. “And acting.”
“You want to be an actor?”
Kit shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe.” He wiggles a little like he’s nervous.
“You like being on camera?”
Kit blushes at the question. “I don’t really know.”
“This is your first time, isn’t it?”
Kit nods.
“Do you like sex, K?”
He bites his lip, smiling and blushing harder. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No.” Kit giggles.
“Boyfriend?”
“No.” He giggles more.
“Tell me about your first time.”
“My first time ever?”
“Yeah, tell me about your first time ever.”
“Um, my first time happened after my senior prom. With this girl I was friends with.”
“Did you like it?”
“I liked it okay. Didn’t last very long.”
“Mm-hmm. Why don’t you take your shirt off for me, K? Get a little more comfortable.” Kit’s face reddens even more. He pulls off his T-shirt, and he’s thinner underneath. He only has a tiny suggestion of chest hair.
Arthur’s cock responds, and he curses himself. “He’s a fucking kid. Turn it off. Turn it off,” he tells himself again.
“You’re so handsome,” the man holding the camera says, and Kit preens. “Why don’t you tell me about your first time with a boy.”
Kit licks his lips. The camera zooms in. The shot lingers on his lips and then moves down his body before returning to his mouth. “I…I haven’t…”
“You haven’t been with a boy before?”
“Just—” Kit looks away. His face is scarlet. “Just oral.”
“Did you give or did you receive?”
“Both.”
“Good, that’s good, K. You’re doing a great job, you know that?”
Kit beams. “Okay.”
“So, tell us why you’re here today.”
Arthur scrubs his face with his hands and groans again. “You’re going to hell, mate. You are truly going to hell.” It’s legal, a voice in his mind says. The voice bears a disturbing resemblance to Cooper’s. He wanted you to watch it—that’s why he sent the damn thing.
Kit rocks from side to side with nervous energy. “You’re…you’re going to fuck me.”
“Look in the camera and tell me you want me to fuck you.”
The camera zooms again, and Kit’s big blue eyes stare into the lens. “I want you to fuck me,” he whispers.
“Louder.”
“I want you to fuck me.”
Arthur groans again, louder.
“Good boy. Take your pants off.”
Kit is already hard. He’s eager, even if he looks a bit scared. He sits on the edge of the bed. “Is this okay, Mike?”
Mike. Michael Ward. “Shit,” Arthur says. “Fucking hell.”
“That’s perfect, baby. Here, let me give you something to suck on. Would you like that?” Kit nods. The camera angle changes to a POV, and Michael steps closer to Kit. “You can get it out for me, right?”
Kit nods again. He reaches up, undoes Michael’s pants, and pulls him out. His dick is still flaccid, and Kit frowns. “Uh…”
“Put it in your mouth, K. Get me hard.”
“Okay.”
He does. The Kit in the video is clearly less experienced. He’s sloppy, and he can’t take very much. When Michael chokes him, he coughs and tries to pull back, but Michael won’t let him. He shoves into his mouth. The more Kit struggles, the quicker Michael’s breath goes. “That’s right, K. You’re going to take it. I’m going to train you, aren’t I? You’re going to be a perfect little slut when I’m done with you.”
Arthur frowns and clicks ahead.
“Are you ready?” Michael asks.
“Yeah,” Kit whispers. He’s breathless. “I think so.”
“All right. Okay, hands and knees.”
The camera transitions to a split screen. On one side is the POV, which focuses in on the tight little bud of Kit’s ass. The other side is his face. He looks excited and scared. Michael caresses his hip with his free hand. “Look at you, all ready for me like you were made for it. That’s good.” He dribbles lube directly onto Kit and starts to massage the wet around his rim. “Now we’re gonna work you up a bit so you can take my cock. You want my cock, right?”
Kit nods.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, I want your cock.”
“Good.” He pushes in the tip of his finger.
Kit’s mouth opens. His eyebrows lift, just a bit, and his eyelids lower. He sucks in a breath. “Oh,” he says.
“That’s right, relax. Here, spread yourself for me.” The fingertip is pulled out, and Kit reaches back and pulls himself wide open. The camera goes in and out of focus as more lube is dribbled onto him, and Kit sucks in a gasp and smiles a little. “Is it cold?”
Kit nods. He leans forward on a stack of pillows and holds himself open.
Without a word, Michael pushes his finger back in. Kit inhales again. His eyes go wide this time. “Mmm,” Michael hums. “You’re so tight. You’re gonna have to relax if you’re going to take my cock, K. All right?”
“’Kay.”
“Good.” Kit grins again with the praise and pushes his ass out a fraction more. Michael pushes his finger in deeper and starts rocking in and out. He dribbles on more lube and quickly adds another finger. Kit’s breath is already quick and labored. “How does my finger feel?”
“It’s,” Kit gasps, “it’s good.”
“Good. Let’s see if you’re ready.”
Arthur shakes his head. “No, he isn’t ready.” He leans forward. “Shit.”
The flushed-violet tip of Michael’s cock lines up with Kit’s barely stretched ass. He dribbles more lube on, and he pushes in the head.
“Ah, ah,” Kit moans. His eyes lose focus, and his jaw drops open.
“Relax,” Michael says, rubbing on his lower back. “And spread your cheeks more—that’s right, like that. Look at you. Look how tight you are, fuck.”
“Mmmff.”
Michael rocks forward. Kit gasps with each stroke. “You’re so tight; it’s like you don’t want to let me in.” He pushes forward further and further. “Are you gonna let me in, K?”
“Yes, I can—I want you to—I can take it.” His mouth hangs open. And then he looks at the camera, and Arthur can see that he does want it.
Arthur curses again and pushes down his boxers. “Fuck, this is so wrong,” he whispers. He watches Kit’s face as he takes more and more cock in his ass. He starts to stroke himself at the same pace.
Kit lets out little moans, almost like whimpers, with every new stroke. When Michael gets in all the way, he stops and focuses the camera in close where he’s buried in Kit. “Now,” he says, “look in the camera and tell everybody what’s happening.”
Kit looks in the camera. He blushes again. “I’m—you’re fucking me in the ass.”
“Oh yeah? How does it feel?”
“It’s…” Kit squirms beneath Michael. “It’s so big it kind of hurts.”
“It hurts?”
“Yeah, but it’s good too.”
“Well, that’s funny.”
“Yeah.” Kit grins. He lets out a giggle, and Michael pulls out and thrusts in again, so he gasps. “Ah!”
“What does it feel like?”
“It’s like—” He squirms again. “Oh, God,” he gasps, “it’s—it sends these shivers up my spine, oh fuck, it’s—it’s good.”
“That’s right. And tell me, K, how many cocks have been in your ass?”
“Just—just one.”
“This is your first time getting fucked.”
“This is my first time getting fucked.”
“And do you like it?”
“Yeah, I like it.” He’s starting to rock himself back and forth on Michael’s cock, chewing on his lip. “I…I like it.”
“Show me how much you like it.”
Kit lets out a low moan and starts to rock harder. He bounces against Michael. “Fuuuuck,” he groans. “Oh fuck, oh God, mmm.”
“Fuck, K, you do like it. Look at you working my cock like a real slut.”
Arthur’s chest heaves. Kit lets out more groans, and Michael grips his hip and starts pounding into him. Kit’s eyes seem to roll back.
Arthur loses himself after the pace shifts. He spurts all over his stomach and chest as Kit gets drilled. He’s absolutely wrecked. In the end, Michael shoots on his face, into his open mouth. His release splashes onto Kit’s cheeks and on his tongue. “Swallow it,” Michael tells him, and Kit closes his mouth and does. “Open up, let me see.” He opens and waggles his tongue. “Fucking perfect.”
The video goes black.
Thoughts?
Why would you send me that?
You wouldn’t watch one if I didn’t tell you to.
How do you know?
I can tell.
Kit, why this one? You could’ve said he was your first. I didn’t have to see.
It’s my favorite video. Is that fucked up or what? It’s hot as hell. I wanted you to see. I wanted you to watch me. I like to be watched.
What’s your real name?
:)
Don’t send me any more videos unless you want me to know your name.
“Fuck.” Arthur buries his face in his pillow and tries to go to sleep.