Chapter 1

Scott flexed the fingers of his right hand in frustration; he needed sex to distract him from the bad news. Two jobs lost in a week? This year can just bite me.

He read the email again, aware of an odd sense of relief in his stomach. This wasn’t unexpected. The department store hadn’t put him on the schedule for nearly a month, and the gym had been closed for almost as long. At least, he wouldn’t have to risk going out in the midst of the pandemic with his crummy immune system. Then tension slowly crept up his hands and arms. No money coming in…and no one to talk to.

Scott huffed. His master, Nate, couldn’t have chosen a worse possible time to dump him, could he? He shook himself. Hey, cheer up, you.

If he wanted sex, he’d need to jerk off. Again. He’d had ample offers for hook-ups, but not with this stupid virus. He was stuck with porn—likely the movies his master had made—on the tiny screen of his phone.

Perhaps there was old fan mail that might turn him on. For the first time in weeks, he switched from his Scott Slater account to ScottBottoms4All. He’d avoided this, not wanting to tempt himself with memories of getting screwed on camera. Nate had made it clear Scott was not welcome in his movies, and returning to porn under any other filmmaker would almost certainly mean having sex without condoms. That wasn’t an option, even if he would have loved to have that life back.

He inhaled sharply and looked at the calendar. It had been two months since he had moved out of Nate’s house. He hadn’t had sex since that night, which explained why the mere thought of going back into porn made him hard.

He scrolled past the spam from offshore casinos and male enhancement products, hoping to find letters detailing what his fans dreamed of doing to him.

Wait a minute.There was an email from one of Scott’s favorite fans that had been sent less than two days ago.

To: ScottBottoms4all

From: Bill Castle

Subj: I Miss Your Ass

Dear Adorable Scott,

Hey, bright-eyed tiger. I see you’re no longer making movies, and apparently, you’re not living with Nate. What are you up to these days? All by your lonesome? Hope the Covid-19 pandemic isn’t keeping you from what you do best. Just maybe save it for someone special. ;) I’ll miss seeing new scenes from you, but I’ll be watching your old stuff every day until this is over. Stay safe, handsome boy.

Hugs and tugs,

Bill

Scott bit his lip. That was the first email he’d received that hadn’t insisted he go back to getting fucked on camera by Nate and his gang. He hit REPLY.

To: Bill Castle

From: Scott Bottoms4All

Subj: Re Your Email

Hey, Bill. What am I up to, you ask? I had a part-time job at the men’s fragrance counter at McAllen’s, but you know how well department stores are doing. I also ran the appointment desk at a gym, but poof, gone. I need to find a job that can be done from home without a computer. Any suggestions? :)

I will say hearing from you has made my day and made me miss getting fucked on film for my fans like you. I kind of think it won’t happen again, however, and I’m sorry about that.

I am, indeed, all by my lonesome. As far as “doing what I do best?” It has been so long! Nate and company did me one last time (on the front lawn! It was freezing!) about two months ago and nothing since. I’m going crazy with need, you know?

I should let you go. Thanks for letting me know I’m on your mind.

Big hug for you.

“Adorable” Scott

Scott tumbled in his bed and dropped his shorts, wondering what Bill looked like. All of Scott’s partners and most of his fans were old enough to be his father—experienced, dominant, natural daddies who knew what to do with a submissive bottom like him. He hoped Bill fit the category. He fantasized about what it would be like to be with “someone special” instead of being passed around. He tried to remember a time he’d had sex in private, with only one man, or a time he’d been kissed. There was one time someone had truly kissed him, which had been remarkable. Who was that? It certainly hadn’t been Nate. According to him, Scott’s mouth was only for sucking dick. Scott shook his head. Why did he like that kind of humiliation?

Scott reached between his legs and tried to conjure up images of someone making love to him instead of “owning his ass.” But soon he was fantasizing about Nate and what Nate always wanted most. Scott found himself stroking to the memory of one of his films, Pussy Boy Theory

In several videos, Nate’s obese, small-dicked friend, Chuck Buckholt, credited as Chuck Cuckhold, played Scott’s hapless partner. In this one, Chuck had failed to lock the door to Scott’s apartment after he left, and Nate barged in on a nude Scott. Nate grabbed Scott’s groin and began preparing his hole for penetration. Scott moaned, legs spread wide, and tried to helplessly push away Nate’s hand.