Cam Girl

1. Gilli

Gilli

T he red light on the screen shines steadily, like a beacon guiding the way to my own personal hell.

A column of chat messages scrolls down the right side of the screen, and in the center, as big as the sun, there’s me. Only it’s not me.

I know what my oldest sister would say without having to hear her actual voice: “Gillian Kerrigan, what do you mean, you’re making porn?”

The filter hides my face. Which doesn’t stop user MarkMe6969 from sending the message ur so fucking hot u dirty slut .

He means my body, of course, but my face has some of my better features, and I’ve always liked my eyes.

I swallow the disgust and run my hand between my breasts. There’s a disconnect between me and the person dancing, swirling her hips, arching her back and thrusting out her ass. Touching her tits. Sinful .

Gunnermate4Play: Take off the thong & finger ur pussy *eggplant emoji*

It’s the fifth comment about my pussy and there will be more. There always are.

At least this one comes from one of my regulars, and once he gets the dirty talk out of his system, he’s not so bad. He’s paid for a few private chats over the last month. VIP style.

When they asked me in school what I wanted to be, sex worker was never on my list. But situations change. Shit happens. The world is a vicious place and people are mean and horny. As long as they’ve got the money?—

I swivel on the tips of my toes, grateful I don’t lose my balance, and grab the chair near my bed, bending over to give the audience watching me live a front row visual of my ass dimples.

“You guys want me to touch myself lower?” I inject a breathless tease into my voice.

The face filter makes sure they don’t recognize me, but my ass is my calling card. It’s huge even without the help of junk food.

Go figure.

They never touch me, these watchers. They’re only voyeurs. I’m not a prostitute. But I take their money and I give them what they want to see—within reason. The cam girl thing is something I stumbled on when I needed quick cash.

It’s not so bad.

I glance over my shoulder at the string of comments.

FlirtyJax: Gonna bend u over that chair & make u scream

1845MustacheRideMass: Dirty girl. Bet you smell like peaches.

FlirtyJax: Who wants some of daddy’s cock ?

My bedroom is my studio and I’ve turned it into the greatest little virtual whorehouse in Baltimore.

Ten pm on a Tuesday night, I’ve got on a merlot-red wig and lingerie cut like glittering black snakes writhing across my torso. The thong leaves every square and hated inch of my backside bare.

Yeah, this was super uncomfortable when I first started. I’m not good at interacting with people and worse at flirting with men. And there were a few comments about my body that gave me serious pause about strutting around naked.

I’ve got curves, I’ve got cellulite, and I’ve got bouncy tits.

The majority of men and women seriously dig it, though, and the good remarks outweigh the bad.

“Is this what you want?” I ask out loud. “You guys are on fire tonight. Everyone is so hungry for a taste. What would you do if you could taste me, sweetie?”

The responses flood in.

I swallow hard, my throat constricting. Some nights the nerves are worse than others. I’ve worked up from glimpses of side boob to full on shaved pussy shots with my legs spread, but right now, I’m tired.

It makes the frayed edges of nerves harder to ignore.

Of course, the spread leg stuff gets me more. The things we do for our job. I strip, I touch myself, I take requests and personal calls in the VIP chats. Anything and everything because student debt is an albatross.

I lift my hand to my throat and finger the velvet choker, the other hand gliding south. The high resolution camera is mounted on a tripod and aimed at the bed in the background.

Some of my shows end up there but I’m standing for most of them. It gives a better angle to the dirty business making me the extra cash I need.

“Do you like what you see? Do you want to see more?”

I have around three thousand men and women watching me. Sometimes, the compliments roll right off of my shoulders, but there are those golden moments where hearing them tell me how pretty I am, how sexy…it shines a light into the bottom of my stomach.

And maybe one of these days I’ll set up the subscription service I’ve been meaning to get to. Then I’ll have exclusive content for those who sign up and I can do less of these live sessions .

More full length videos for the people with the generous tips.

Garters connect to stockings, and it’s a miracle I’ve learned to balance on the stiletto heels. I reach down and flick open one of the clips.

“Like this?” I purr.

In addition to the lingerie and outfits and toys, the setup cost a pretty penny to get started, from the lighting and equipment needed to set the scene, because I’m selling a fantasy.

And the watchers are willing to spend money for me to take requests.

Fr1skieD1ngo: Take it all off!!

Jamie’sAss*t: Such a dirty girl. Can’t wait to see you bouncing on top of me.

The users tonight have been decent with their behavior, none of the creeps I’ve seen lurking around the other profiles. When I first made my account, I watched a couple of the pro users for inspiration.

There are some serious dicks out there being super vulgar.

I can only imagine what the girls’ inboxes look like.

I turn around again and reach down to grab my ankles. A few more months of this and I should be able to stop. The last six months have brought me a steady following, forced me out of my comfort zone, and highlighted the part of me I want to chop off.

Chopping off body parts does not get the followers, though.

I just have to make sure their messages flow. I’ve learned to cater to what the regulars like.

Lifting up, I whip the tail end of the wig around and hold it out behind me, gyrating my lower half. I lift a leg and balance it on the seat of the chair.

No amount of surgery or exercise or therapy has been able to help with the defect of those ass dimples. I see them. The viewers see them. I might as well put them to good use for me and make it count.

Fuck you, Department of Education.

Fr1skieD1ngo: What’s ur fav color, baby girl? Is it pink?

I smirk. “I’ve never been a pink kinda girl. I prefer teal,” I reply.

In the background, the tips roll in, and the slight mechanical ding is music to my ears.

The live views always seem to do the best, better than the videos or the other premium content.

“You have no idea what your support means to me.” I flick my index finger across my nipple. “Thank you all.

Nope, there are still too many tears in the back of my voice. It comes out clogged rather than sultry. How do women do this? How do they have the confidence?

Fr1skieD1ngo: Take it off . Ur such a tease . Sexy bitch.

Yes, thank you. The applause means everything to me. Not . I’m about to throw up.

Jamie’sAss*t: You seem like you have a great sense of humor.

Jamie’sAss*t: What do you do for fun?

“I cook.” I tug on my wig. “And thank you. I do a lot of things for fun but I’ve never seen myself as a fun- ny person. And tomorrow night,” I add, “I’m thinking about doing an extra special costume. Something with bows here—” I point to my left nipple. “And here.”

Then to the right.

I slap my ass and the comments flow. People pay for the dimples and the giant ass that got me bullied in school. I came by it naturally.

My mother has the same thing, the same issues, the same size.

She’s hated herself for as long as I can remember and taught her three daughters well. There are certain body parts that don’t fit the mold and are better hidden under loose skirts or baggy pants.

At least this isn’t the worst online platform. It’s user friendly and masks itself as an escape rather than a pay-for-porn kind of deal. Here, they like my ass.

Although I definitely don’t tell my coworkers at the vet clinic what I do for my side gig. They’d judge. The stigma attached to this kind of gig…even a sense of humor can’t help me spin this.

“Or maybe you’d like me to wear the jumper again. With the pigtails.” I grab the end of the wig again and split it into two, tilting my head to the side. “You guys always love it when I put on the jumper.”

My usual customers send tips along with every movement and every answered question.

That’s the beauty of this gig. They don’t know me. They have no idea who I am as a person and yet they are here to worship at the altar. Well shit, now I sound blasphemous.

But nothing glides across the skin like silk and velvet.

My viewers liked silk, loved velvet, and fell prey to whips.

I reach down to the side of the chair with slow and deliberate movements and lift the flogger with the flat braided leather.

“I thought tonight I’d open the floor. Who wants to see me use this on myself? Where would you like it?” I ask.

I refuse to move until the comments start and when they do, they flood in with the force of a hurricane. Telling me to spank my ass, my pussy, my breasts, even my face.

Maxxx8U: Do you like to hurt yourself ? Does pain make you wet?

The comment catches my eye only because the username is different. I’ve only seen the user in my comment sections a few times and so far, they’ve been tame.

Nothing this bold before.

My gut twists. “Seems like you’re asking some pretty deep questions there, cutie,” I say, dragging my fingers through the leather braids. “The only kind of pain I like comes with pleasure.”

I oblige the first round of comments and send the flogger down on my hip. The leather bites against my skin and I turn my wince into a moan.

It’s all for the camera. All for them.

Maxxx8U: How much will it take for you to shove the handle up your cunt? Stretch yourself around the leather.

Oh, god. My palms go sweaty. I don’t want to read those kinds of things. The site should have protocols in place to keep this kind of shit off the chat, right? Apparently not.