You want to know something funny? Through the whole escape from that lab and crawling through the caves and across the desert and being little whores for money, I’d paid no attention to the aches and pains of that beating I took. Even the souls of my feet hurting was put aside. It’s like I was so focused on getting us back on top, I just didn’t have time to deal with it.
But now that Irin was running things? My brain relaxed...and everything rushed in. I’ve always had a high tolerance for pain, and that helped keep me from howling like a wounded animal, but I still felt the broken ribs, bruises, shredded feet and all the attendant nonsense. Suddenly the only thing I could think about was a nice hot bath, where I could soak for the next fifty years.
Irin noticed I was starting to wince and groan, so he hailed a cab and gave the guy an address. Turns out it was to the northwest of downtown, near an observatory. An area of big, low-slung homes surrounded by trees and gardens and fences that looked like they were electrified.
We pulled up to the entry gate of one house hidden behind evergreens and desert scrub, then Irin popped out and called in on the intercom.
It crackled then spit out, “What fuckin’ asshole’s comin’ this time of night?”
“Hello, George. It’s Irin.”
“Irin? What the fuck you doin’, comin’ out here, an’ so fuckin’ late?”
“We need some help and you’re the only guy I could think of.”
“What kind of help?
“Profitable, for both of us.”
“Wait, you said we...”
“I got my boyfriend with me...”
“Oh, yeah? He as cute as you?”
“Nobody is. But he’s close.”
The little dick. If I wasn’t hurting so much, now, I’d have thumped him...then fucked him...but...
The gate buzzed open.
The Cab pulled up around to the entrance, on the opposite side of the house, which was all black glass, brick and shrubbery under a roof that was maybe seven feet off the ground above shaded flagstones. Standing there in a tiny robe and sandals was this power builder of a guy covered in tattoos. He wore gleaming chains around his neck and on his fingers...and fucking toes! I even caught a sharp twinkle between his legs, behind the bottom of that robe, and my bet was he had a diamond-crusted Prince Albert. On top of it all, he was shaved bald and had some kind of tropical drink with a little umbrella in hand, which made him look really skeezy.
Irin burst from the cab and gave George a hug. He got a one-armed embrace back; George had a death grip on that drink.
I crawled from the cab after paying the driver and made myself stand erect. George glanced me over and nodded. “You’re right, Irin. Nobody’s as cute as you.”
You bitch.
He waved us inside...and for every bit of sleaze I felt coming off him, the main room was twice that, but comfortable. Vaulted ceiling with beams. Stone fireplace. Flagstone floor. Plush couches and chairs. Art deco prints framed and hanging on dark wood walls.
“Drink?” Burst out of George as he went behind an amazingly well-stocked bar.
“I...I just...water, please,” whispered from me. Suddenly, I couldn’t think of anything else but gallons of good, clear, ice cold water.
Irin guided me into an overstuffed chair. A tall glass of the stuff appeared in my hand and I drank it down in one gulp, so another followed it...as did several tabs of Advil.
I sort of remember Irin saying, “We got knocked around, a little.”
“Him more’n you, looks like.”
“Yeah. Can we stay here a couple nights?”
“Anybody know you’re in town?”
I’m pretty sure Irin shook his head, no.
“Okay,” George said. “You know the rules.”
Next thing I knew, I was in a huge tub, naked, leaning back against Irin and loving the hot, hot water...
And fucking bubbles.
That reeked of Jasmine.
I let out a groan and shifted, and realized his arms were around me, holding me close to him. I managed to lean my head back to look up at his face.
“What the fuck...?” whispered from me.
“It’s alive...”
“Yeah...yeah...man, I was out of it...”
“True, that.”
I nodded. “Where are we?”
“A nice house in a guest room. How do you feel?”
It took me a moment to assess the diminishing aches and pains in my body, then I said, “Weak.”
His right hand felt my forehead. “Well, you were feverish but that’s pretty much gone. You hungry enough for a steak?”
The memory of that steak in that room flashed into me and I jerked my head, No. “Anything else?”
“Well...he’s got turkey and mashed red potatoes with the skin still on...and green bean casserole, just like momma used to make...before she threw me out.”
“She was a bitch.”
“I do not disagree.” He rubbed my belly. “Can you sit up, now?”
I did, slowly, confused. “Was I that far gone?”
“Dirc...you were scary.” He kissed the nape of my neck and whispered, “I’m sorry. I...I mean, I...I could see it comin’, you gettin’ real spacy near the end, but I thought...I thought you were doin’ fine with it and...shit, I’d say your adrenaline was all that was keepin’ you goin’ and it...it finally ran out.”
“Don’t be sorry, Irin. I was the one ignoring what my body was telling me...”
He was rubbing my back and I loved the feel of it. His touch. His tenderness. “In order to get us here. That’s why I want to lead, now. Take care of you till you’re back to my level, again.” He worked his way up and out of the tub, then sat on the edge of it. Masses of bubbles drifted down his glistening skin. “Now I’m gonna make us each a plate. You stay in here as long as you want. I might even make a tray...put across the tub...”
I slipped back deep in the water. “You join me? Like a couple of rich bitches.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“George okay with all this?”
“George is ecstatic, thanks to that little diamond I showed him. And promises of more.”
“How much you trust him?”
He chuckled. “Dirc, I learned a long time ago...if you want a guy to fuck you over, you pay him what he’s worth. But if you want him to fuck himself over, you pay him what you’re worth.” Then he leaned in to kiss me, softly, and whisper, “And we’re still almost fifty-thousand richer. Cash.”
“He...he had fifty-thou to just hand over?”
He nodded.
“But in his house...where we’re staying...”
“I’ve been here, before...” Then he leaned in and whispered, “...and I’ve known George since before I died. He’ll treat us right so long as he thinks he’s fuckin’ us over.”
“Shit, Irin...I’m letting you handle the money from now on.”
“There is one catch...we have to put on a show for him. Next day or two.”
His expression told me what kind. I had to ask, to be sure, “You up for that?”
He drew his fingers along my chin and over my lips, smiling tenderly. “With you, I’m up for anything.”
Then he grabbed a towel and padded away. And watching his gorgeous ass rock atop his perfect legs, I felt a swell in my heart at knowing he was mine.
I heated the water up, twice, adding more bubble bath, before we shared a tray across it. And that turkey was fan-fucking-tastic. By the time I left the tub, I was shriveled up like a prune...but felt human, again.
That is when I saw it was late in the day. I’d been out for twelve hours and in that tub for ten.
I slipped into the bedroom to find my clothes freshly washed and neatly folded on a dresser. And lying across the bed were a pair of light pajama bottoms and a wife-beater. Irin had dressed himself in a tight pair of jeans, with the waistband of his briefs showing, and a loose, long-sleeve CK shirt over a white tee...and God, he looked gorgeous.
“George and I’re boppin’ up to Reno,” he said. “You get some sleep. I’ll see you in the mornin’.”
A tug of fear clipped my heart and I drew him close. “You have to go?”
“It’s about our new IDs. Gotta get that rollin’.”
Then he kissed me and left.
I stood where I was. Heard some car start up and a garage door open and close as it drove away. And then silence.
For the longest time, I could not move. Not even to turn on a light when it grew dark. It’s like I was afraid if I shifted to the left or right, front or back, I’d wake up to find something had gone horribly wrong and Irin was no more. I knew I’d die if that ever happened, so I was flat out terrified while he was away from me.
Finally, I got cold enough to think to pull on the bottoms and shirt and slide under the covers to sit on the bed, my mind still a blank. No concept of time. Or space. Or meaning. I was like a dog waiting at the door for its master to come home, and that was very unusual for me. But I could not change it or reroute the mindlessness of my brain.
It was after four am when I heard the car returning.
And several voices milling into the house.
And then I heard Irin’s...and could relax.
He slipped into the room, stripped down to his CK briefs, and joined me in the bed. I drew him close, face to face, and nuzzled his neck.
“You didn’t sleep...” he murmured.
I just shook my head. I loved the feel of him. The smell of him being bourbon and cigarettes. The warmth of him. The form of him against me. Words would have removed me from that beauty.
“Gonna sleep now?”
I nodded, already feeling the lovely weariness drifting up to me.
“You heard the guys comin’ in?” Again, I nodded. “They’ll keep George busy the next day or two.”
Meaning then it would be our turn. I nodded, pulling him closer.
Finally, I said, “Don’t we owe the Beast one?”
He nuzzled his face into the nook of my neck. “That’s why I went with George. Make sure we got top quality. And you know, it’s your turn.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Then I drifted into sleep.
The next day was nothing. At all. Well...watching movies on a massive widescreen in the room. Soaking more in the tub. Naps and books to read. It was like a spa day. Irin and I gave each other rub-downs, back and front, and used the wide array of toiletries provided from every top brand there was. George could teach a 5-Star hotel a lot about taking care of guests.
Of course, I knew why he was so accommodating...
I'd noticed a half-dozen little lenses located about the bedroom and bath, positioned perfectly to catch us lounging in the tub or on the bed. Dressing or undressing. Meaning there were probably a lot more of the damn things I hadn’t even seen, yet, and my bet was they were all wired for sound.
But to be honest, I wasn’t surprised. And while I didn’t say anything to Irin, I doubt it would have been a surprise to him, either. In fact, the last time I was done soaking in the tub, I deliberately chose the shower option to rinse off and luxuriated in it for several minutes to give George a good record of my dick and balls.
We joined everyone for dinner...roast ham, potatoes au gratin, wild salad, croissants, asparagus and Hollandaise...a nice spread. And I met the guys they’d returned with.
Piper and Hasan, a couple of tight, trim lads, nicely buff if leaner than my preference, who were a couple, and who had...if I read between the lines correctly...performed for George in more than a couple of ways. I got the feeling they’d been here more than a couple times.
The other guy at the table called himself Combo. As big and buff as me, with more tattoos than Irin, he screamed gym-rat. The type with big moves who gulps down mass quantities of everything...ham, baked potato just for him...as was a ribeye steak. Thing is, as built as he was I didn’t notice any of the tell-tale signs of juice-abuse. But then I learned he was into healthy muscle supplements...which can be just as bad, but with a holier-than-thou attitude.
“Hydro-creatine and Sucrose super boost,” he touted in a voice that dripped with condescension, also mentioning a dozen other things to help build yourself up. Of course, he was really a personal trainer and nutritionist. “I’m building a following as an influencer. Clothes. Workouts. Diets. I’m really heavy into the carnivore diet. Done a lot for me.”
He acknowledged that I had a pretty good body, as he poked at my side and belly, but he said there were some exercises he could show me to tone up some areas that were still a bit flabby.
The bitch.
Throughout his pontificating, Irin cast me a few looks and quiet winks, so I knew this was the guy paying for that diamond. And I could see it being a fair trade. While it was obvious from his bone structure he’d increased his muscle volume a lot from what it should normally be, at least that meant there was plenty of meat on him to make the Beast happy.
He also seemed to like me a lot, the way he kept touching me and poking at me and focusing his rants on me. More than once, he cast me a look that said, Please agree with me.
My one issue was with how well he seemed to be known. I got him to pull out his phone and show me his TikTok page, and he had close to a million followers. Of course, it didn’t hurt that he was doing his workouts and arrogant puffery in tight Spandex leggings that showed off solid legs and a fine ass, and a shirt that rarely hid his pecs or tits. It was like one-step short of being OnlyFans.
After dinner was done, we lounged around in the main room before a nice fire, sipping cognacs and chatting about nothing. Piper and Hasan revealed each had done a solo jack-off in their bedroom, then played together in another session, then Combo had joined them. George played some of it on the TV.
The two guys were sleeping on the bed, atop the covers, in bright light. Both wearing briefs and nothing else. Looking nice if pretty Millennial. Combo wandered in from the patio, wearing a red square-cut Speedo, and the way his hips and ass rocked in that thing tore into me all the way to my dick.
The guys woke and yanked him onto the bed then ran their lips all over his body and he fake-struggled to get away. They pulled that Speedo down to reveal a nice-sized dick and pair of fat balls. They double-teamed his dick with their lips and tongues. Got some nice closeups of that. Didn’t hurt Combo’s dick was thick and straight and loaded for fun. Piper held it in place while Hasan’s fingers rolled Combo’s balls. And when he came, he shot a good foot in the air.
There must’ve been at least two cameras set up on sticks, in that room, with the rest being handled by those mini-lenses. There was also sound, as if we needed to hear them saying Oh, yeah and Fuck while grunting and groaning.
“That was cut together fast,” said Combo.
“I did lots of the editing while you guys were at it,” said George.
“You got a switcher?” asked Hasan.
“Yeah, it’s almost twenty years old but works.”
“Cool.”
By this time I was starting to fade. Since I figured it’d be Irin’s and my turn, tomorrow, I said goodnight and headed for our bedroom. Irin came with me, and once we had the door closed he whispered, “Combo likes you.”
“Loves himself, more,” I shot back. “Irin, we can’t disappear him; he’s too well-known.”
“Is he? Or is he full of shit? His videos aren’t so special. I think he bought somebody else’s followers.”
“How does that work?”
He shrugged. “I just can’t buy him as an influencer for anything. Too much of a dick. Now you get in bed. Your head’s still kind of fuzzy.”
I nodded changed into the pajama bottoms and shirt and crawled under the covers. I was pretty beat and still a bit achy, so this felt so nice. In fact, I was asleep, in moments.
Until somebody crawled into the bed, with me. Embraced me from behind. I knew from the moment I woke it wasn’t Irin.
