16. Phoebe
Chapter sixteen
Phoebe
I begin to wind down my live, my naked body aching and sweaty, with the many orgasms I’ve given myself. The chat was lively and demanding tonight, and I was both surprised and amused to see that both Strokemyshillelagh and Stallion69 were in attendance, and very active with comments and tips. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I would think they were attempting to compete for my attention. Both of them requested private chats after this live, and I wearily held off on agreeing, even though I could use the money. I’m exhausted from the lack of sleep over the last couple of days, school is kicking my butt, and I feel anxious about this ‘hoodie guy’ stalking me, and leaving me notes. I found one in my backpack earlier today, and almost had a breakdown in the middle of class. I’ve barely eaten anything today, and I can feel a headache beginning at the back of my skull, now that my adrenaline has begun to wear off.
User: Stallion69
I need to see you. I’m willing to pay more if needed.
His privat e chat message pops up on the screen, and my breath hitches in my throat. My fingers stop their slow, seductive slide across my hip, as I get ready to remove the pink vibrating egg from inside of myself, and bid my followers goodbye after a long hour of entertaining. A part of me desperately wants to grant his request. I’ve actually missed his commanding presence, and had feared he had moved on to someone else, but at the same time, I am starting to worry that the ‘hoodie guy’ is actually a subscriber, and is watching me. Could he be either Stallion69 or Strokemyshillelagh? The creepy notes all started around the same time as these two began following me, and demanding private audiences.
My phone buzzes on my nightstand, with a reminder notification that I have to pick a theme, and schedule a date, for Behind the Lens ’ calendar photographer, Chad, and the live video. Dammit, I need to make a decision on this, I am running out of time, and I’m terrified to let Lorna down, but the whole thing is giving me even more unnecessary anxiety. The thought of having anyone in the room with me, touching me, is as exhilarating as it is nerve-wracking, and dreadful. Should I ask one of the other performers? The thought immediately makes me queasy. I don’t want to see this person in the halls here afterward, because that would just be awkward. Okay, so it would have to be a stranger, possibly one of my subscribers. What if this person tries to hurt me? What if it’s someone I know from school or, worse, my old life? What if they get attached, and it puts me in danger? What if you have one of the best sexual experiences of your life? My mind plays devil’s advocate with me.
“Goodbye, my sweets. Thank you for making me feel so good. I hope I made your night or day a little better! I’ll see you soon.” I blow a kiss at the screen, my mind racing, as I close off the live feed. Another chat window opens almost immediately. Shit, what are the odds that today both of them would be on here? I swear, some days, my life is a bloody mess.
User: Strokemyshillelagh
I miss you, beautiful girl. Please let me spend some time with you.
I rub my cold fingers back and forth against each other, trying to get my body to warm up. There’s a chill now in the room that I didn’t feel before, while I was focused on entertaining my subscribers, and goose bumps erupt along the surface of my skin. The sound of my blood rushing in my ears almost overwhelms me, and it begins to feel like a steel band has wrapped itself around my chest, and is slowly tightening, putting pressure on my lungs and causing my heart rate to escalate. What the hell am I doing right now? Why am I panicking? I’m safe in this room, safe inside Behind the Lens ’ walls. I don’t have to worry about anyone hurting me in here. I try to talk myself down, and almost succeed, until another message pops up.
User: Strokemyshillelagh
Beautiful, are you still there? Please, I just need to know you’re okay. You looked a little exhausted tonight. I’m worried about you.
Oh my God, he noticed. A tingling warmth spreads through me, at the knowledge that he noticed something wasn’t quite right with me tonight. He was interested in me, and not just what I was doing to myself for his sexual gratification. I force a shaky breath past my lips, reach for my robe, and slip it on, before I pull the keyboard closer to me, disregarding all the abandoned sex toys I used tonight on the mattress, and with a grimace, avoiding the wet spot. It’s weird, and it makes no sense, but something about him makes me feel comfortable in my own skin, and like I’ve known him forever. He’s like a lost friend that I didn’t realize that I needed, and missed until now. I’m probably losing my mind. Strangers on the internet are not supposed to make you feel like that. Maybe it’s how alone and isolated I always feel now. I must be projecting these sentiments onto him, and wishing, in the fantasy land I create inside my mind, that my reality was different, and someone out there truly cares for me. I had that once, friends, family, a home, and a few people who honestly loved me, before the rug was ripped right out from under me, and I was left with nothing.
User: Ladypoison
Hey, sweets. Sorry, I’m a bit exhausted, to be honest. Thank you for watching my live feed. Can we raincheck for another time for a private one-on-one?
The minute I hit enter, my stomach seizes with apprehension. What if he never wants to chat with me again? What if I have offended him by turning him down? A whirlwind of thoughts races through my mind, mixed in with the acknowledgment that I will actually miss him, if I never get to interact with him again. A strange pain blossoms in my chest, and if I didn’t know any better, I would say it’s grief.
User: Strokemyshillelagh
Please, just for a moment. I will pay for the whole hour. I don’t want you to perform. I just want to chat. Let me see that you’re okay. Please, álainn.
Stallion69 is still sitting, waiting for me to reply, the green circle around his profile showing me that he’s still connected. I flip back and forth between their messages and profiles. They are both so different, and yet, in some ways, they are similar with commanding alpha male vibes. As much as I would like to speak to Stallion69 again, I’m out of energy right now. I just can’t force my body to go again, and play submissive for him. If I am being honest with myself, there’s a connection and chemistry with both of them, but somehow, with Strokemyshillelagh, it’s effortless. I don’t feel like I am wearing another persona or a mask, and I’m just trying to only please him. Last time, he was willing to answer my questions. Maybe he’s as lonely as I am, and just needs someone to talk to. Perhaps he and I could be friends?
User: Ladypoison
Hey Stallion69, I’m sorry, I am already booked up for tonight, but I would love to see you another night if that works for you. Please send me some options for times and dates, and I am sure we can make something work, Sir xoxo
I exit the message window, and click back into the chat with Strokemyshillelagh. A feeling of excitement stirs in my weary limbs, as I quickly ensure that my robe is closed tightly, and that my mascara hasn’t given me raccoon eyes. I quickly type back a message before I can change my mind.
User: Ladypoison
Hey, sweets, if we are just chatting, then I’m good with no payment. Just so you’re not disappointed, I plan to have clothes on, if that’s alright with you. If you need something different, then we’ll have to pick another night.
His reply is instant, and it brings a smile to my face at his eagerness, and reassures me that I made the right choice. The niggling at the back of my mind, that he might be the guy now stalking me, disappears until I can no longer hear it, as I click the link to connect us and share my screen.
User: Strokemyshillelagh
I don’t care if you’re wearing a damn parka or wrapped like a burrito in a blanket. I just want to chat and see your face, beautiful.
The screen connects, and I’m greeted with muted darkness, and just the hint of a masculine outline. I can see his larger frame sitting on a surface, but can’t ascertain any details about him or his space. It frustrates me that he’s still hiding from me, but at the same time, I completely understand he might not be comfortable, and it causes a thrill to race through my bloodstream that he’s allowing me to paint a vivid picture of him in my imagination.
“Hey, beautiful girl, thank you for agreeing to chat with me,” his growly voice says through the screen, causing a shiver to slide down my spine. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him to reveal himself to me, but I hold back. I don’t want this all to end. I am enjoying the fantasy of him that I have created in my mind. How he looks, sounds, and behaves, as he takes charge of me and bends me to his powerful will, and I’m loath to lose that with reality. No, some things are best left in the shadows. I moisten my lips and prepare to speak, and a groan comes across from his side, and I observe the shadow shifting. “God, beautiful, those lips of yours will be the death of me.”
I preen like a damn peacock at his words, and make myself more comfortable, as I sit cross-legged on the bed before the screen, allowing the thick, white terrycloth robe to part slightly and show a hint of my legs. “Beautiful, are you trying to bring me to my knees, ’cause if you are, you’re succeeding.” He certainly has a way with words. Some of my exhaustion instantly lifts, and a spark of electricity seems to liven up my body. I have yet to say a word, and I’m starting to feel a little self-conscious and foolish. After all, I was the one who said I was too tired for anything but chatting. “Hey, sweets, thank you. You’re very kind and charming. No, I am not trying to bring you to your knees, although the prospect sounds entertaining.” I wink at the screen, a flirtatious smile crossing my lips.
“How was your day, beautiful. Are you feeling alright? There seems to be some bug going around here.” His concern is touching, and just like that, I instantly relax, that unexplainable comfortable feeling, that we have known each other forever, settling over me. “Yeah, I know a few people that are sick right now. Hopefully, I don’t catch it. I have so muc h on the go right now. I just haven’t been sleeping very well. Hopefully, I’ll get some decent shut-eye tonight.”
“Anything on your mind bothering you?” He questions, and I watch as his shadowy outline lifts something from the darkness next to him, and I get a brief glint of a reflective surface and his fingers. I’m about to ask him what that was when I hear him taking a drink. In my mind, I picture his thick, masculine throat working, as he consumes the drink, the liquid wetting his lips and trickling down a powerful jaw, where I long to lick it up with my tongue. Fuck, and now I’m wet again.
“Beautiful?” he asks with amusement, and I don’t even realize I’m leaning closer to the screen, my eyes centered on where I think his jaw might be. “Huh?” I utter with confusion, not even sure what he just asked me. “How old are you?” I don’t know where the hell that question comes from. It’s like my brain has decided to stop working, as it overwhelms itself with made-up images of a sexy, secretive man.
“Are you curious about me? I like that. How about we trade questions? I answer one of yours, and you answer one of mine?” An amused chuckle fills the air and pulls a smile to my lips. “Deal, but you answer mine first. Also, I won’t tell you my name or where I am. Those are off-limits.” I wait with bated breath for him to refuse me, or try to negotiate my terms, but when he does nothing except move his shadowy head, in what I think might be a nod, I release the tension in my shoulders.
“I’m in my late twenties.” I notice he doesn’t exactly tell me the number, and I’m a little confused as to why. Could he be lying just to reassure me he’s not some old guy? “My turn, do you have any siblings?” His question catches me off guard. I was expecting him to reciprocate and ask me my age, or something about my cam business. “Yes.” I don’t bother volunteering that I only have a brother. If he’s going to be vague with his answers, so am I. I try to think of something I really want to know about him. I don’t know how long we are going to play this game, and I am hoping I can discern if he might be ‘hoodie guy’. “Have you always lived in California?”
“Ugh, no, I’m actually only here for a short time for work. I’m originally from the Midwest.” He’s here for work, so he wouldn’t be a student at my college then. So maybe he’s not the guy leaving me the notes. I almost volunteer that I’m also from the Midwest, but stop myself at the last second.
He already told me last time that he’s not with anyone, so I don’t bother asking that again. We go back and forth with random questions about foods we like and movies we’ve seen, and discover that both of us are gothic horror fans. It’s getting late, and a yawn pulls from my lips. My eyes are getting tired, and I still have to clean up here, and drive back to my little apartment. This has been so nice, almost like a real date, well, if one sits naked underneath a bathrobe while sex toys are strewn around them, and talks to a total stranger hiding in the dark, kinda date. Still beats the one I had with Dwayne, I guess. “You tired, beautiful? You should get some rest. I... I would love to do this again. Just talk, if I haven’t completely scared you off with my love of raunchy movies, and flavored popcorn talk.”
I allow a real smile to grace my lips. I loved talking to him, and everything we discussed made me either smile or laugh tonight, and it helped banish some of the anxiety and stress I was feeling. I would really like the opportunity to do this again with him, and maybe it’s naive of me, but I think he’s being genuine, and really enjoyed spending this time with me too. Other than a few teasing comments, we kept it PG, and that was an unexpected treat. “Um, this is going to sound really forward and weird, and please feel free to say no. I totally understand if you never want to speak to me again.” The words rush out of me before I can think them through, or stop myself. “I have to do a live shoot for a calendar, and need an extra for a filmed video... I know you said you were in Cali... any chance you would be interested in doing that with me?” Oh my God, what the fuck have I just done?
“An extra? What does that mean? Like to be present and touch you?“ His voice has become deeper, and I can almost feel the serious tension even through the screen. What the hell has possessed me, to ask a total stranger on the internet to come fool around on camera with me and take sexy photos? Have I fully lost my mind and my morals? It’s one thing to perform for money, and get off knowing they are just watching, but no one but me is actually touching me. It’s a completely different thing to ask a guy who I don’t even know what he looks like, or his real name, to come fuck me. “Ah, I’m sorry, never mind, that was stupid, and I’ve just made it completely weird,” I gasp, my hand reaching over to my mouse to close off the chat window as my face goes hot, and I know it must be beet red with embarrassment.
“Don’t you dare close this chat. Answer me, beautiful. You want to meet me in person, and you’re going to be doing a calendar, and a video with someone else?” His voice becomes quieter and hoarser, as he asks me to clarify the disaster I just mentioned. If a hole opened in the ground to swallow me whole right now, I would gladly jump inside of it. I’m mortified at myself and my audacity. “Yes... I... I’m March.” Why the hell did I just tell him that? Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me? “Listen, I... I got to go. It was nice chatting with you. I’m sorry that I made it so weird.”
“ A mhuirnín , I... I don’t even know what to say,“ he sounds at a loss for words, and my body is getting all hot and sweaty, every second that I’m still sitting here like a loser. “If you really want that, I would do anything for you.” His words cause my heart to gallop in my chest, as I hesitate with my hand on the mouse. Did I just hear him say he would do it? “What? I mean, really?“ I question with confusion, my voice sounding shrill as I feel a bead of cold sweat slip between my breasts.
“There is nothing I wouldn’t be willing to do for you, álainn . Just send me the details, and we will figure it out.“ He sounds so confident and sure, and it’s freaking me the hell out. I should have thought before I spoke, but now, how do I take it back? “I... I have to go. Have a good night, Irish,” my voice squeaks with panic. I don’t wait for him to try to say anything else. I close the chat and release a frustrated scream, dragging my hands down my face in horror, at what I have just done. What the hell possessed me to do that? I just made everything weird, and will probably never speak to him again. A pang of pain aches in my chest at the thought of never talking to him again, and I immediately feel a huge loss.
One thing is for sure. If we go through with it, I know what theme and holiday in March I’m doing. St. Patrick’s Day. The image of a fantasy version of him, dressed up as a leprechaun, makes me giggle as I race through my cleanup, so I can get out of here and go home.
Oh my god, I am such a brazen mess. Who is the new Phoebe, and what has she done with the shy, awkward version of myself? Maybe it’s him, Strokemyshillelagh, that’s caused this inexplicable sense of power and forthrightness to come out. Never in a million years would I have thought I was capable of propositioning a stranger for sex, on the internet, no less, but I just did. Holy shit.