The Grande Futapest Hotel Ch. 06

"Nope." Layla grabbed a fork. "I just might not finish all this."

"If there's anything that Chrissie loves, it's sloppy seconds." Selena spun around and pulled Chrissie in close by her shoulder.

"And if there's anything Selena loves," Chrissie slipped out of Selena's hold. "it's making up stories about all the times we've had sex that have never, ever happened."

Layla looked up from her plate. "So... you HAVEN'T had sex with Selena?"

"Nope." She shook her head once. "I'm straight and not especially attracted to women, futa or even giant penises."

"Huh." Layla hummed as she swallowed a bit of egg. "I guess we haven't run across many women like that recently. At least since I started hanging out with Selena."

"But that's Selena." Chrissie shrugged. "Any woman with at least one lesbian bone in their body loves Selena."

"Yep. I got the plus-sized cock, and she's my plus-sized cook." Selena joked, taking a forkful of eggs to her mouth before pacing around the kitchen, looking at her phone.

Layla caught Chrissie's eye. "You don't mind being called plus-sized?"

"No way. It's what I am. And it's nicer than 'fat.' Which I also kind of am."

"Well, I think you're very pretty."

"Thank you." Chrissie beamed. "I actually like hearing that from women more than from men, even though I'm straight. Perhaps even BECAUSE I'm straight."

"And you don't like huge... thingies?"

"I prefer them to be average."

"Like, say... eight inches?"

"Oh, God no. Way too big."

"She's actually nine." Selena called out.

"Selena!" Layla's hands went to her groin, even though nobody was looking at it.

"See, this is why I love hanging out with Layla." Selena said from a distance. "She is as easy to tease as you are completely unflappable. That and the nine inches." Selena made two 'OK' signs with her fingers, the way a fussy diner would respond to a perfectly poached quail.

Layla continued to munch on a meal less ostentatious than quail, her head dipped down, but still somehow keenly aware that Chrissie was staring at her.

"This is really delicious." Layla added.

"Are you really nine inches?"

Layla crammed a sausage in her mouth as quickly and nonerotically as she could. "SUPER delicious."

--

Layla did not quite clear her plate. This was a larger breakfast than she'd seen at most waffle houses, and some of those came with three pancakes. Layla was pleasantly full and saw no reason to gorge herself. She surrendered her fork, which was immediately taken by Chrissie to finish the meal.

Layla watched Chrissie eat quickly, with great gusto, and without a hint of shame, until the fork went back to the plate with a clink.

"You really love cooking." Layla said across her cup of coffee.

"No, I love food." Chrissie said. "No need to be diplomatic about it. I love food, and cooking is how I get good food."

"Did you know that eating all the food off your plate in considered rude in China?" Selena said. "Eating it all is a sign that the host failed to give you enough to be satisfied."

"That ain't me." Chrissie moved the dishes to the dishwasher. "I've never asked for a box at a restaurant, and I don't think I will ever need to."

"Also..." Selena continued. "in China, you're supposed to end the meal with a big burp."

Layla's eyes involuntarily went to Chrissie, who shook her head.

"Nope. If I'm rude whether I burp or not, I'll pick not."

"See, Chrissie is not only my chef, she's also my house-sitter, when the occasion arises." Selena said, walking away from the kitchen, looking into her phone. Layla followed. "And that's what she's doing here today. Because I'm taking a trip. I always take a trip this time of year for my birthday, but I pushed it forward to start it today. And I'd like you to come."

"Really?" Layla said.

"Absolutely. This year, I'm going back to Bali. It's beautiful in the winter, the temples are amazing, the hiking on Mount Batur is..."

Selena stopped herself when she heard Layla's bare footsteps cease behind her. She turned away from her phone, where Layla was doing an excellent impression of a kid who ate all the sour lemon candies at once. Selena knew for a fact it wasn't because the breakfast was bad.

Selena put one hand on her hip. "You don't have a passport."

Layla didn't respond.

"Did I say Bali?" Selena tapped her phone repeatedly, evidently going back through several pages. "Silly me, I meant... Maui."

"Hawaii?"

"Have you been?"

"Never."

"Then it's settled."

"But..." Layla thought back to last night, and the source of their argument. "But you have to perform today."

"I'm just going in for a few pickup shots. I won't be having any sex."

Layla's brow crinkled. "Then... why were you so-"

Selena didn't let her finish. "Because... sometimes they SAY I won't be doing a sex shoot, and they ask if I can jump in to something with another performer that I know and shoot something fast while I'm there. I can always say no, since I'm the star and all. But... I'm trying not to say that too many times. You know how it is, right? Just as women, not even futa... we sort of feel obligated to help everyone we can so we don't get the reputation of being a bitch and get left behind."

"The truth of being a futa in the porn industry is sort of like the bad parts of being a man and a woman in the porn industry. Like a woman, you get jerked around and criticized and negged and pushed to your limits, and like a man, you need to be hard as iron at will and never lose control."

Layla's expression softened, her eyebrows dipping downward like wax sculpture slowly melting.

"Then again..." Selena's eyes looked upwards for a moment. "Since we're still reasonably rare, even in porn... sometimes we get treated like princesses. Like, everyone is so accommodating and wanting to make sure that we don't run to some other studio. Or worse, get pushed out of the industry completely. One guy treated a futa star so badly, she left the industry. And unlike what happens to WOMEN when that happens every damn day... that guy essentially got blackballed by everyone else for killing a unicorn. It's like Greece in the sixth century BC, where if you cut down an olive tree, you could be sentenced to death."

Layla snickered quietly. "You know a lot of trivia."

"I watch a lot of game shows."

"You ever try to get on one?"

"I'd love to, but I don't think Jeopardy's audience is ready for me. Best I could hope for would be Family Feud, with all that innuendo."

Selena's attention went back to her phone for a moment. "So... it's up to you if you want to come with me to the shoot or hang out here until I get back."

"I'll tag along." Layla said. "Chrissie seems great, but hanging out here with her for a few hours sounds a bit awkward."

"I'll tell you what, though..." Selena leaned in. "If the two of you had sex while I was gone, if YOU somehow cracked the code and got in her bed and I couldn't... that would be so crazily amazingly hot."

"Well, it's too bad. I'll have to click on one of those banner ads that reveals the three words that make any woman wet."

"Twelve inch dong." Selena said immediately.

Layla laughed. "But it didn't work! Chrissie still isn't into it!"

"Are you saying I can't trust ads on the Internet? My goodness, what is the Internet coming to?"

"Pictures of you."

"Or high-def video of me."

--

Filming involved driving out to a suburb that Layla didn't recognize. Selena dressed in a denim jumpsuit and cap, stepped around a garage and up the long walk to the house, and rang the doorbell. The camera equipment moved around, and she did it again. Because of the ample sunlight, there was no need for lights, so the shots were gathered quickly. This happened repeatedly, as Layla stood around with the crew, trying to watch while not being in the way.

After another take had concluded, the director turned around and saw Layla. Behind his sunglasses, he eyed her up and down, which caused Layla to avert her eyes nervously.

"You're Selena's friend, right?" He asked.

"Yes, I'm Layla." She said, feeling the apprehension rise in her throat. Did he know she was a futa? Was she about to ask if they could perform? She'd love the chance, of course, but... even when they were alone, she didn't last too long. Nor did she last long when under the scrutiny that the movie set provided.

"Could you help us out?"

Layla purposely unclenched her teeth to speak. "Yeah, sure." She said.

The director pointed towards the sidewalk. "Go over there, and when I call 'action,' can you just jog past in the background?"

"Oh." Layla masked her relief. "Yeah, sure, I can do that."

She walked to the edge of frame, right underneath a tree, and waited for her to be cued. When he called 'action,' Selena started to walk up the walk, and Layla jogged down the sidewalk. She started checking out Selena's butt in the unflattering jumpsuit as she jogged. Selena's butt was probably her least discussed body part, other than perhaps her knees. It really was a nice butt, toned and firm with just enough material to wiggle visibly when walking... or when spanked.

"Layla?" The director called after she'd jogged out of view.

Layla jumped back from around the corner. "I'm sorry. I was checking her out."

"No, I liked that." The director insisted. "But... you don't jog, do you?"

"No..." Layla said. "Why? Did I look stupid?"

"No, no, no. But it didn't look... like a jogger, you know. It looked like someone pretending to jog." He explained. "So... just power walk instead."

They called another take. Layla marched energetically down the sidewalk, turned her head towards Selena... and walked directly into the mailbox.

Layla apologized again, but the director swore he might just use that take.

--

"One more thing before we head out." Selena told Layla as she wheeled her luggage to the garage. "I emailed that photographer who flew the drone over my house. I told him that I'd put the drone outside my house at 2PM and he could try to get it before someone else takes it. If you could, can you and Chrissie lug that thing outside? I'd rather he didn't get another chance at taking a picture of me."

Chrissie and Layla walked the huge drone out of the storage room, into the garage and out the driveway to the main wall surrounding the property. It was a lot heavier than Selena made it look, though Chrissie didn't seem to be having much trouble. Layla barely kept her end from scraping on the cement floor of the garage.

A small distance from the property... there was a white pickup truck. It was too sunny to see if anyone was in the cab. The truck wasn't that old... but it wasn't new, either. She hadn't seen many pickup trucks in this neighborhood, despite the stereotype that Californians all drive enormous gas-guzzling off-road ready vehicles and never drive them over anything more treacherous than a speed bump.

"Let's go, Chrissie." Layla hustled Chrissie back up the driveway.

"What's wrong?"

"I think that's the photographer."

"What makes you think that?"

"He's got a truck big enough to haul that thing away... and nobody parks on the street here."

They closed the garage door and returned into the house. They found Selena in the basement television room.

"We're going to be heading out very soon. Now, remember the rules, Chrissie." Selena shook her finger sarcastically. "I want you in bed by eight, and no boys over."

"I know, I know..." Chrissie reached into her backpack, pulled out some variety of XBOX, and began attaching it to the monstrous television Layla had only previously used to watch Two Broke Girls. "Your wireless password still the same?"

"Yeah, that hasn't changed. Here's some cash for food or whatever." Selena pulled out several hundred dollar bills from her purse and handed them to Chrissie as casually as if it were a ten-dollar bill. It was the first time Layla had ever seen Selena throw her money around so visibly.

It was somehow easy to forget, even while standing in this enormous mansion and on the verge of a Hawaiian vacation... that Selena was a multimillionaire.

By the time Selena and Layla left to drive to the airport, the drone was already gone.

--

Selena had packed everything she'd need into two suitcases, foregoing the carry-on. Her purse had everything she could conceivably need at a moment's notice, including a Sharpie marker for autographs and even a slightly crumpled granola bar. It had been in this purse for long enough that she should probably either eat it or be rid of it.

They drove to Burbank to let Layla pack. Selena was surprised to learn that Layla didn't own a bathing suit, not even in the simple sense of wearing it as a costume for her stream. Layla had learned to swim in school, but had never been very comfortable doing so in front of others for reasons that were obvious. Selena said they could get one upon arrival, as nobody had better swimsuits than Hawaii.

When they arrived, Layla was surprised to see that Selena wasn't famous enough that she could avoid waiting in any of the lines. Evidently, there was a priority customers line, but in California, this line was busier than it might be in other parts of the country.

Selena picked up their tickets and they faced a new line, leading towards security.

"If they ask..." Selena whispered to Layla. "Pick the scanner and not the pat-down."

"Is that thing safe?"

Selena looked off. "I'm not sure. But I only fly about six times a year. I'm not worried."

"But... those things can see through our clothes."

Selena turned back with a bemused smirk. "So? I mean, everyone else here should worry about how nobody follows the protocols that dictate how these images are used or stored, and workers have been passing them around inappropriately, but for us... everyone can just look up pictures of us on the Internet anyway."

Selena faced the back of the person in front of her again. "And that's why none of them... will EVER touch me."

Selena and Layla passed through the security checkpoint without incident or additional screening. They took a seat at a small lounge below a row of televisions all playing the same thing: the national news coverage of an event in Washington DC.

"Oh yeah..." Layla said as she looked at the reporting. "It's January 20th. It's Inauguration Day."

"Mmmmm." Selena made a long noise between a groan and a growl without opening her mouth.

There was a pause. Layla nervously proceeded. "So... what do you think of the new guy?"

Selena sighed. "When you are as famous as me... there's a certain point where... no matter what you say, you risk alienating someone on some issue that you thought was completely right and justified. I suspect that's why so many famous people pump money into charities that everyone approves of. Stuff like... kids with cancer, potable water, the homeless, the less fortunate."

"The less fortunate get all the breaks!" Layla joked.

"Nice Futurama reference."

"Is that where that's from? I thought it was just an Internet thing."

"Anyway, the only things I support publicly that could be remotely controversial are pro-free speech and pro-porn freedom stuff. Other than that, I'm publicly as apolitical as I can be."

A pause. Layla watched the helicopter shots of huge crowds. "What about... among your friends?"

Selena turned to Layla. She snorted. "As a lesbian woman and unrepresented sexual minority who works in pornography... how do you think I feel about this?"

"I'm sorry. It was a silly question."

"Don't be. I'm just glad you asked politely, unlike everyone else on the Internet."

Another pause. They both looked to the televisions with a sense of dread.

"If you don't mind my asking... who DID you vote for, then?"

"No one who had a chance."

--

Once they entered the plane, Layla nearly walked past the entire first-class cabin before being pulled back to her seat by Selena. They sat in the very last row of seats, on the right-hand side. Layla took the window seat, even though Selena normally took that one for herself to minimize people recognizing her. But she couldn't deny Layla the view that she had enjoyed so often.

As the other passengers moved past them to their seats, Selena and Layla got to talking, rather quietly to not disturb the guests.

"How many male porn stars can you name?" Selena quizzed Layla.

"Other than Ron Jeremy, none." Layla confessed.

"What, not even John Holmes or Peter North?"

"OK, those three are it." Layla said. "I've never seen anything they've done. Now, I could probably name a hundred female porn stars, but the really famous ones, like Sasha Grey... I've never seen her in porn. I've only seen her in mainstream stuff."

"I've never seen any of her stuff, either." Selena said. "I don't know how big she really was before she moved into mainstream work. She was nominated for some awards, I know."

"You ever work with her?"

"Nope. She retired before I started. We've never crossed paths. Not even outside the industry."

"I wonder if I'd even like any of her porn. I got this feeling that... it'd feel like watching something that I shouldn't be watching. It'd feel like when all those celebrity nudes leaked a few years ago."

"The Fappening?"

Layla made a gentle twitch at hearing Selena say the word 'fap' in public. "Was that what they called it?"

"Well, if you look it up on Wikipedia, the article redirects from 'the Fappening' to 'iCloud leaks of celebrity photos,' but 'the Fappening' takes less time to say."

"I saw one of those pictures without realizing what it was." Layla said. "And it was one of those actresses who hasn't done a nude scene. And it was just so clearly... not a picture that was meant to be shared with everyone. It was grainy and dark. It was just a dirty selfie she sent to a lover. If it looked like an image on Instagram, something EVERYONE was meant to see.. it would have looked better. That's the whole point, right? Make yourself look as good as possible. The fact that the picture is obviously not meant for the public turns me off. I feel like anything I watch of Sasha Grey will have that feeling, even though it's legitimate and meant for public consumption."

"I get what you mean. If it had been a nude picture of... Rosario Dawson, who has done tons of nude scenes, you might not have been bothered by it."

"Well, if it was leaked, I still wouldn't want it in my collection. But I get what you're saying."

"Have you ever watched something that I've done with a male costar?"

"No." Layla said. "I've watched stuff with a man and a woman, but when it's a man and a futa, I can't help but put myself in the position of the futa, and..." Layla's shoulders rose involuntarily in a gentle shiver. "No. I can't do it. Not with the guys that they get in porn, at least."

"It doesn't bother you that I've had a few male costars, does it?" Selena asked, a scintilla of apprehension in her voice.

"No, no." Layla denied. "I mean... you do what you have to do."

"Well... I suppose I didn't HAVE to. Nobody ever made me do it. I chose to." Selena said.

Layla turned her head in and looked at Selena in her eyes. "But... you said you were hetero for the cheddar-o."

Selena started laughing. "I'm sorry. It's lame to laugh at your own jokes, but every time I think of that, I laugh. I need to make shirts that say that." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I chose to try to expand my brand by making a futa-on-male porn. I believe my logic at the time was, 'well, I don't want someone else to beat me to it.' And I'm not especially attracted to men, or to my costar, who was good-looking, I suppose. But I did it. Because that's what I do.

"Somehow, it got back to me that there were people on Reddit or somewhere that were really glad that I had never had a black costar." Selena corrected herself. "Rather, they meant that I hadn't had a black MALE costar, because I had definitely drilled loads of black pussy."