Taken Off Camera (Taken by His Alpha #7)

Taken Off Camera (Taken by His Alpha #7)

By Sophie O’Dare

Chapter 1

Presenting as an Omega taught me two things: everyone thinks they can own you, and they’ll pay extra to prove it.

My phone buzzes with a fifteen-minute alert to showtime.

I silence it before adjusting the soft LED ring light to cast a flattering glow across my face, smoothing out the shadows that might betray how little sleep I’ve gotten this week.

The livestream setup claims half of my apartment’s living room, the professional backdrop hiding the ordinary life behind it.

My hands move through the familiar routine of checking camera angles, staging colorful toys just out of direct view, and tugging my oversized hoodie to reveal just enough collarbone to tease but not enough to start the show before I’m ready.

I pull up the mirror app and check my appearance one last time, running fingers through my chestnut hair to achieve that perfect, just-rolled-out-of-bed-but-still-hot tousle my viewers pay premium tips for.

“Looking good, Micah.” I practice the half-shy, half-seductive smile that lets them believe they’re seeing the real me.

As the soft ping of early arrivals to my channel starts echoing from my laptop, I settle into my chair, roll my shoulders back, and click the button to go live.

The red recording light blinks on, and I shift my perspective from Micah to ElliotUnleashed, the sexy Omega cam boy who fills the hole in lonely men’s lives.

“Hello, loves,” I purr, leaning toward the camera.

CHAT COMMENTS

DaddyBrooks: You’re fire tonight, Elliot

SkyKing69: Feet tonight???

SweetTooth44: hiiii babe

Anonymous: start bouncing on that dildo already

GoldenTipper: Been waiting all day for this

Anonymous: bend over for the cam

BlueJay77: damn that hoodie is killing me, so hot

Anonymous: take it off

LoneWolf88: hey beautiful, miss me?

PixieDreamer: cutieee

Anonymous: spit on it first

SweetTooth44: omg your hairrrr

Anonymous: spread those legs already

HeartEyes92: hi hi hi

TIP NOTIFICATIONS

DaddyBrooks tipped 100 tokens — “Did you get the purple lace? ”

SilverFox sent 20 tokens — “Too cute ”

“Welcome back to the show. Hope everyone’s having a fantastic evening.” I scan the scrolling usernames, noting the usual suspects.

No GentlemanX, though, which is disappointing. He hasn’t been commenting lately on live streams, and I miss seeing his name.

There’s DaddyBrooks, one of my most generous tippers, and SkyKing69 with his predictable requests for foot content, along with a flood of new names I don’t recognize that probably came from a mention on RedditAfterDark last week.

“I see my regulars showing up. Hey, DaddyBrooks and SilverFox. Thanks for the tips already, my handsome fellas.” I blow a kiss to the camera.

“And yes, DaddyBrooks, I did receive the purple lace.” I play with the zipper of my hoodie, teasing more skin.

“You’ll have to wait to find out if I’m wearing it tonight. ”

The chat scrolls faster, demands and compliments blending in a digital chorus of desire.

I’ve gotten better at tuning out the worst comments, the ones calling me an Omega slut, asking if I’m in Heat, and demanding I “breed” myself with larger and larger toys.

Those users, I block without acknowledgment. The rest receive my practiced charm.

“So tonight, I’ve planned a special show for you.” I shift to cross my legs, teasing them with the reveal I’m not wearing any shorts. “A lot of you have been sending packages to my PO Box, and it’s time for another unboxing stream!”

The chat explodes with excitement. Unboxing nights are always popular. Viewers love seeing their gifts acknowledged, and potential viewers tune in hoping for a glimpse of scandalous toys.

I reach below my desk and pull up a basket filled with a small pile of packages wrapped in various colors of paper and shipping envelopes.

“Let’s see what my sweet fans have sent this time.” I pick up a sleek black box with a silver ribbon. “This one’s from DaddyBrooks. Always so elegant with your packaging.”

I unwrap it slowly, drawing out the moment and peeking at the camera with an expression of anticipation. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, is a delicate black lace thong with tiny ruby-colored stones sewn along the waistband.

“Oh, these are gorgeous.” I hold them up to the camera, letting the light catch the stones. “Thank you, Daddy. I’ll definitely be wearing these for our private session this weekend.”

The next package contains a bottle of scented massage oil from VikingDom82, which I open and dab behind my ears, inhaling with an exaggerated sigh of pleasure. The third, a silicone toy in an alarming shade of neon green, draws a genuine laugh from me.

“Well, someone’s optimistic about my abilities,” I joke, setting it aside after thanking the anonymous sender.

I reach for a plain brown package, unremarkable among the colorful boxes and padded envelopes. The label shows nothing but my PO Box listed twice, once as the destination and once as the return, and unease prickles at the base of my neck.

I maintain my playful lilt as I tear open the paper. “And what do we have here?”

Inside is a plastic bag, sealed tight, with no note. I reach in, and soft, worn cotton brushes my fingers.

When I pull it out, my expression freezes as I stare at a pair of used men’s boxers.

Dark stains crust the front, unmistakable even under the flattering lights, and a musty scent reaches me even through the plastic.

I recoil on instinct, but I catch myself before dropping them as I catch the frantic scroll of the chat.

CHAT NOTIFICATIONS

HeartEyes92: ??? what’s going on??

Anonymous: show us!!

BlueJay77: bro you just froze, everything ok???

SweetTooth44: what are you hiding??

Anonymous: c’mon don’t keep us waiting

SkyKing69: hold it up to the cam!!!

LoneWolf88: did someone send you a present??

Anonymous: show it or it didn’t happen

PixieDreamer: omg what is it???

Anonymous: stop acting shy, put it in the frame

GoldenTipper: yeah, why’d you stop moving?

Anonymous: hold it up to the cam NOW

My throat constricts, pulse hammering so hard I’m sure the camera can pick it up. For three seconds, I’m not ElliotUnleashed but Micah, a person whose privacy has just been breached in the most disgusting way possible.

CHAT COMMENTS

SilverFox: What is it? Show us, pretty boy.

“Just some junk mail that got mixed up with the presents you guys sent.” I slip the boxers back into the bag with my fingertips, then place it under my desk with a shaky hand. “Not worth your time.”

CHAT COMMENTS

DaddyBrooks: You’re pale, Elliot. Everything okay?

I force my lips into a pout. “Just boring mail. Not as exciting as what the rest of you sent.”

The chat isn’t satisfied.

CHAT COMMENTS

SweetTooth44: why are you hiding it??

Anonymous: Show us!!! SHOW US!!!

Anonymous: lol what’s wrong, Omega? can’t handle a surprise?

HeartEyes92: you’re driving us crazy over here, just show it!!

I reach for my water bottle and take a long sip to buy myself three more seconds of recovery time. My heart hasn’t stopped racing, but the professional mask slides back into place. Eight years in front of a camera have taught me how to compartmentalize.

I let my fingers toy with the zipper of my hoodie again. “Who wants to find out what I’m wearing underneath? Might be SilverFox’s purple lace…or it might be nothing at all.”

They forget the mysterious package as the chat shifts focus, tokens raining down as I drag down the zipper, revealing a strip of bare skin inch by inch. I rise to my feet and let the hoodie slip from my shoulders.

“Like what you see?” I turn to give them a view of the purple lace covering my ass.

CHAT COMMENTS

SkyKing69: whistles damn

BlueJay77: oooohhh yes

SweetTooth44: yesss baby

PixieDreamer: wolf whistle

SkyKing69: that’s what I came for

HeartEyes92: omg you’re gorgeoussss

Anonymous: strip faster!!

TIP NOTIFICATIONS

DaddyBrooks tipped 250 tokens — “Don’t keep me waiting, Elliot ”

SilverFox sent 100 tokens — “That beautiful face is worth every bit ”

SilverFox sent 50 more tokens — “Couldn’t resist… that ”

As the tip notifications chime like slot machine payouts, I’m all sexy pouts and coquettish flirting on the surface. Underneath, a cold knot forms in my stomach. This isn’t the first time someone’s sent me their bodily fluids as a gift. The anonymous sender is escalating.

But I can’t let it affect the show.

I arch my back and let my fingertips skim the lace, playing to the camera while my mind races ahead to the moment when the red light will turn off, and I can figure out who the hell is stalking me.

The moment the stream ends, my happy facade vanishes.

I exhale hard, letting my shoulders slump as I drag my hands down my face, smearing the light sheen of makeup I applied for the camera. The silence in the apartment turns heavy after two hours of performing. I study the envelope under my desk, my stomach turning at what it contains.

No more deflecting. Time to figure out what the hell is going on.

I stand and stretch, rolling tension from my neck as I flip off the ring lights. The apartment transforms instantly, the curated stage of warmth and sensuality becoming just my ordinary living space, a modest one-bedroom in The Solace, barely affordable even with my earnings.

The bright, candy-colored throw pillows and artfully draped fabrics I use as backdrops appear garish now in the dim overhead light. Beyond the filming area, dirty dishes sit in my sink, and a half-empty cup of yesterday’s coffee leaves a ring on my coffee table.

“Separate spaces, separate lives.”

The mantra has been burned into my mind since I started this career.

I open the drawer beneath my desk and pull out a box of latex gloves.

It’s not my first disturbing gift, though definitely the grossest. Most creeps can’t get past the third-party shipping service that forwards packages to my real PO Box, and using my own address as the return should have flagged this one.

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