7. Command Os
Chapter seven
Command O's
Albany
I love going to work. Even if I might not be in the mood to perform, I look forward to the moment I pull into the drive of Behind the Lens. The grounds are beautiful. The grass is always cut, and the bushes whisper along with the large deciduous trees whenever the breeze blesses the property. The large stone chimney coming out of the cedar-stained logs gives a rustic feel to the modern black tin on the upper level of the building.
Nova is at the front desk when I walk in. “Monty checked over room sixteen for you. Equipment is ready to go. Are you going to need Saul?"
"Girl, no. I have enough pent-up libido to flood this building. There won't be any need for fluffing in room sixteen today." Nova snickers at my long-suffering expression, shaking her head as I hike my bag up on my shoulder and turn for the stairs.
I adjust the wig, a long, ebony number with thick bangs and choppy layers. The style is edgy, a stark contrast to the candy-coated theme of my room. Pink and white striped wallpaper, a cherry red bedspread, and plush heart-shaped pillows create a backdrop that's equal parts naughty and sweet. I've named this persona Anise Twist, my most popular alter ego on Behind the Lens.
I lean into the mirror, swiping on another coat of mascara. My violet eyes, a unique feature that's all mine, stare back at me, barely jerking, settled in the null zone of nystagmus I can only achieve when I'm zeroed in on the task at hand. The black wig and dramatic makeup make them pop, giving Anise a sultry allure. I check the time—almost showtime. A familiar mix of nerves and excitement churns in my stomach.
I step back, giving my reflection a final once-over. The corset, a shiny black number with pink ribbon lacing, pushes my small breasts up and nips in my waist. The matching skirt, barely more than a ruffle of fabric, skims the tops of my thighs. Black stockings and sky-high pink heels complete the look. I practice a few poses, making sure the outfit shows off my curves to their best advantage.
Satisfied, I turn away from the mirror and step onto the set. The room is bathed in a soft, rosy glow, courtesy of the pink gel filters on my studio lights. The light is just enough to reflect off the opalescent powder I've painted onto my glowing skin. I've arranged an assortment of candy-themed props around the bed—lickable body paint, edible undies, and a variety of sugary treats. Nova even set up a small table with a cotton candy machine, its pastel clouds of spun sugar piled high in a glass bowl.
I take a deep breath, centering myself. The nerves fade away, replaced by a rush of adrenaline. I love this part—the anticipation, the thrill of the unknown. Each show is a unique experience, a chance to connect with strangers in an intimate yet anonymous way. I press a button on my remote, and the camera begins to record.
"Hey there, sweet things," I purr, sinking down onto the bed. "Anise Twist here, ready to satisfy your sugar cravings. Who's been naughty today?" I wink at the camera, a playful smirk on my lips. The chat box on my screen fills with eager responses, each one a testament to my allure. I scan the messages, my eyes landing on a familiar username.
DarkandDisturbed: You look good enough to eat, Anise.
A shiver runs down my spine. He's been a regular for months, always generous with his tips and compliments. But there's something about him—a quiet intensity with undertones of reticence. I can't quite put my finger on what his deal is, but I find myself eager to solve the puzzle.
I lean forward, giving the camera a better view of my cleavage. "Well, Dark, I've got plenty of sweet treats here. Think you can handle them?" I challenge, my voice a sultry tease. His response is immediate, a tantalizing promise that sends a wave of heat coursing through my veins.
DarkandDisturbed: Try me, Anise. I can handle anything you throw my way.
He sounds grumpy. Eager for a fight. Like one of those overly competitive guys that insists on ratcheting up the simplest of activities with stakes. I grab a sucker from the jar by the bedside, arching my back so my bottom pops on the screen. While I'm leaned over the bed, I grab the small remote tucked under one of the heart-shaped pillows and open his thumbnail, filling the screen in front of the bed with his darkened profile. I can barely see his face. Only his bare chest and the pants he inevitably undoes before we're through. I roll back to a seated position, smoothly crossing one leg over the other as I lean back on one hand. I suck the sweet hard candy into my mouth, letting the cherry flavor burst on my tongue. "What's your rush, Dark?" I ask, tilting my head and batting my lashes, one leg bouncing over the other, knowing the camera loves this angle. The sucker is a prop, a way to add a touch of innocence to my performance. I'm not new to this game; I know how to play the character that sells.
Sometimes I choose a single client to pull up on my personal screen. No one else in the room will know I’m getting off to one viewer. Most of my clients don’t allow me access to their cameras. It’s a dangerous game for me to play. I risk alienating a lot of my regulars if I’m not careful. An electric pulse fires deep inside of me and my pussy throbs. She likes the higher stakes as much as I do.
DarkandDisturbed shifts in his seat, the chair creaking slightly. He's in his usual spot, the dim light of his room casting shadows over the deep valleys of his chest and abdomen. The guy is ripped, so easy on my eyes that if I were to ever feel a shred of guilt, it would be because I’m the only one getting paid. A simple black mask is tied over the top half of his face. "You know I don't like to wait, Anise," he says, his voice a low, gritty growl that vibrates through my ovaries. His commanding tone is effortless, but there's an undercurrent of need that betrays him.
I smirk, the sucker clicking against my teeth as I pull it out slowly. "Patience is a virtue, friends," I tease, twirling the sucker between my fingers. "Besides, anticipation makes it all the sweeter." I know how to draw this out, how to make him want it more. It's a dance, a game of push and pull. I address my entire audience, knowing what my response will do to Dark.
He leans forward, his eyes locked onto the screen. "You're killing me, Anise," he groans, running a hand through his hair. I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way he's gripping the edge of his desk. He's on the hook, and I'm reeling him in.
I laugh, a soft, throaty sound I don't have to fake. "Now, now," I chide, wagging the sucker at him. "You know the rules. I set the pace here." I pop the sucker back into my mouth, sucking it slowly, deliberately. His eyes follow the movement, and I can see the effect it has on him and on everyone watching, as the soft ting of chat boxes popping open alert me to how much my comments are affecting my viewers.
He sighs, a sound of defeat mixed with desire. "Fine, Anise. You win." He leans back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. "But don't make me wait too long."
I wink at him, the sucker still in my mouth. "I wouldn't dream of making any of my gorgeous viewers wait." I blow him a kiss, knowing that I've got him right where I want him. A kiss everyone watching thinks is especially for them. This is my world, my stage, and I'm the one calling the shots. And I love every minute of it. The studio lights heat my skin, a stark contrast to the chill that settles in my bones when I’m home alone at night. I adjust my position, ensuring the lace of my bra shows just enough to tease. DarkandDisturbed's voice rumbles through my earbuds, commanding yet distant. I want to feel his hands on me, not just hear his words.
"Touch yourself, Anise," he orders, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down my spine. I comply, trailing my fingers down my stomach, feeling the soft fabric of my skirt beneath them. I tease the hem, lifting it slightly to reveal more of my thighs. I planned on faking my orgasms today, but every flex of his corded forearms, every clench of his square jaw, every word that falls out of DarkandDisturbed's mouth has mine watering. His black mask and pants in the low light has my cunt clenching and clit throbbing. My tits ache under the tight boning of the corset. I wish he could reach through the screen and touch me. But that's not possible, and I have an entire crowd to please.
"Do you like this?" I ask, my voice a sultry whisper. I can almost see him nodding as I address the room, his jaw clenched tight.
"More," he demands. I slide my hand farther, dipping my fingers beneath the lace of my panties. I'm wet, my body responding to his voice, his commands. I circle my clit, a soft gasp escaping my lips.
"That's it, Anise," he praises, his voice like velvet as he grips the desk and leans forward. His nostrils flare, as if he can scent my arousal. I close my eyes, imagining it's his hand, his fingers, touching me. I increase the pressure, my breath hitching as pleasure courses through me.
"I wish it were you," I admit, my voice barely a whisper. I hear his sharp intake of breath, a low groan following. I’m on dangerous ground, saying something so intensely personal to so many people. My earnings will reflect how much they liked my raw honesty. I could be compromising my safety. But that’s what this business is. Personal choice.
"Me too," he replies, his voice strangled but rough with desire.
I continue to touch myself, circling my slick clit, my body tensing as I approach the edge. His voice guides me, his words pushing me closer. I'm not faking it today. I'm too turned on, too desperate for release.
"Come for me, Anise," he commands, his voice a deep rumble. I let go, my body convulsing as waves of pleasure wash over me. I cry out, my voice echoing in the studio.
As I come down from the high, I open my eyes, my stare locking onto the camera. My lips curl into a satisfied smile. "Thank you," I whisper, my voice rich with gratitude as I come back down from the high. Every person in the room will feel like I'm looking deep into their eyes, even if there is only one pair I care to gaze into. Biting my lip, I lower my eyes. It's on the tip of my tongue to confess my secret to him, but this is an open session. Telling DarkandDisturbed that he's the only viewer I don't fake orgasms for would destroy my career.
DarkandDisturbed chuckles, a low, sexy sound priming me for another round. His gritty, low laugh reaches deep into my most hidden places, making me feel like he already knows my secret.
But his lighting is too low, too shadowed. I can barely see the outline of his face, his dark hair haloed in a line of light so thin I can barely see the cut.
DarkandDisturbed chuckles, the low, sexy sound priming me for another round. "The pleasure was all mine, Anise. Say your goodbyes to the crowd. Your next session belongs to me."