muses_w_remotes | 9.8. Fawlty Towers quote
9.8. "You snobs! You stupid... stuck-up... half-witted... upper-class piles of... pus!"
| Fawlty Towers
Flynn scooped up a handful of water from the tap and splashed it onto his face. The excess spilled down his wrists and bare chest as he looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. It was nearly three in the morning and he had only just made it home from being on the job. Driving was a slow process after you’ve been attacked. He looked down at the bleeding scratches across his chest and over his shoulders. He knew his back was in much the same condition. Workplace hazards and all that. He always knew deep down what he risked in a job like his, but he had been lucky - until now - to have clients who respected him.
She had been new. He hadn’t ever been booked by her before. She was a rich bitch and Flynn knew she had an attitude from the get-go. She paid for him so she could do or say whatever the fuck she pleased on her clock. So she thought, anyway. Flynn always had a policy that if he was treated rough, he would walk away. In fact, they signed a contract upon making an appointment to agree to this. The bitch had signed, but she clearly had a different notion of what her money paid for than what Flynn was offering.
First, she wanted to kiss him on the mouth. He didn’t kiss clients on the mouth. Never had, and never would. He struggled slightly with her over this, reminding her what his boundaries were. She called him a whore and a slut… even that wasn’t particularly new to him but again, his clients were usually of a class enough to not partake in such trashy utterings. In fact, most who usually booked him did so because they knew he was straight to the line, never wavered in what he offered and always gave them excellent service. But it was nights like this Flynn wondered what the fuck he was doing.
The minute Flynn had started resisting her advances it turned nasty. A filthy mouth wasn’t all she was going to resort to that night and she wasn’t going to just let him walk away, either. She had paid for him and she was getting her money’s worth. He did try to fight her off, but she was a strong bitch. His chest and back were the least of his worries. He now had bruises and scratches all up the insides of his legs, his testicles were bruised from the sheer force she had squeezed them with and inevitably his penis was scratched too. Yeah, she had tried to rape him, ending it with a big finale of trying to penetrate his arse with a wine bottle.
He slapped her to get her off him and it gave him enough time to get the fuck out of her apartment. He should have called the cops, but he was in too much shock by this point. He knew what they would say… he was a whore, he deserved it. You can’t sell yourself and then say no. All the usual bollocks. He came home and got in the shower, all the while being careful not to wake Maddy. He was now lingering in the bathroom after the shower, trying to just put the whole crap behind him. Sighing, he slipped on a loose pair of track pants with a small wince and then followed it with a t-shirt to cover all the evidence. He limped slowly out into the living area of the apartment, still as quiet as a mouse.
A smoke and some sleep was the plan, but he didn’t even get that far. He curled up in a ball on the sofa and drew the throw rug around him while releasing a shaky breath. Come morning, it would be gone and he would just forget about it. It wasn’t worth bothering about. Hazard of the job… that’s all he could let it be to stay sane.
Madison James [canmakeufeel] referenced with permission
Word Count | 665
| Fawlty Towers
Flynn scooped up a handful of water from the tap and splashed it onto his face. The excess spilled down his wrists and bare chest as he looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. It was nearly three in the morning and he had only just made it home from being on the job. Driving was a slow process after you’ve been attacked. He looked down at the bleeding scratches across his chest and over his shoulders. He knew his back was in much the same condition. Workplace hazards and all that. He always knew deep down what he risked in a job like his, but he had been lucky - until now - to have clients who respected him.
She had been new. He hadn’t ever been booked by her before. She was a rich bitch and Flynn knew she had an attitude from the get-go. She paid for him so she could do or say whatever the fuck she pleased on her clock. So she thought, anyway. Flynn always had a policy that if he was treated rough, he would walk away. In fact, they signed a contract upon making an appointment to agree to this. The bitch had signed, but she clearly had a different notion of what her money paid for than what Flynn was offering.
First, she wanted to kiss him on the mouth. He didn’t kiss clients on the mouth. Never had, and never would. He struggled slightly with her over this, reminding her what his boundaries were. She called him a whore and a slut… even that wasn’t particularly new to him but again, his clients were usually of a class enough to not partake in such trashy utterings. In fact, most who usually booked him did so because they knew he was straight to the line, never wavered in what he offered and always gave them excellent service. But it was nights like this Flynn wondered what the fuck he was doing.
The minute Flynn had started resisting her advances it turned nasty. A filthy mouth wasn’t all she was going to resort to that night and she wasn’t going to just let him walk away, either. She had paid for him and she was getting her money’s worth. He did try to fight her off, but she was a strong bitch. His chest and back were the least of his worries. He now had bruises and scratches all up the insides of his legs, his testicles were bruised from the sheer force she had squeezed them with and inevitably his penis was scratched too. Yeah, she had tried to rape him, ending it with a big finale of trying to penetrate his arse with a wine bottle.
He slapped her to get her off him and it gave him enough time to get the fuck out of her apartment. He should have called the cops, but he was in too much shock by this point. He knew what they would say… he was a whore, he deserved it. You can’t sell yourself and then say no. All the usual bollocks. He came home and got in the shower, all the while being careful not to wake Maddy. He was now lingering in the bathroom after the shower, trying to just put the whole crap behind him. Sighing, he slipped on a loose pair of track pants with a small wince and then followed it with a t-shirt to cover all the evidence. He limped slowly out into the living area of the apartment, still as quiet as a mouse.
A smoke and some sleep was the plan, but he didn’t even get that far. He curled up in a ball on the sofa and drew the throw rug around him while releasing a shaky breath. Come morning, it would be gone and he would just forget about it. It wasn’t worth bothering about. Hazard of the job… that’s all he could let it be to stay sane.
Madison James [canmakeufeel] referenced with permission
Word Count | 665