Chapter 4 #2
It feels like forever passes. A random username I don’t recognize as a regular makes the obligatory ‘carpet matching the drapes’ comment, but I ignore it. Instead, my eyes are glued to the chat for a response from the only customer I care about right now.
Guest_110793: There, now that feels better, doesn't it?
I don’t have a second to get fired up over the taunt before two more messages come through.
Guest_110793: Spit on that vibrator and make sure it’s still wet. Then slip it into that pretty red cunt for me.
Guest_110793: Don’t turn it on yet.
I bite my bottom lip to hold back a literal whimper. Who the fuck has taken over my body right now? It must be the sleep deprivation. There’s no other explanation for how this complete stranger—a man who doesn’t even subscribe to my content—is affecting me like this. And over messages, no less.
I’m not as lucky with holding back my moan as I slip the vibrator inside of me, fucking myself with just the tip to tease myself. A chime makes my eyes snap open. I don’t remember closing them.
Guest_110793: That’s it, baby. Work it into your sexy pussy for me. Slide it on home so we can get to the fun part.
Guest_110793: Use your other hand to play with those tits you’ve got all decorated for me.
The whimper makes it through this time. The other subscribers are sending messages too, even the ones that rarely talk at all, but I barely glance at their messages.
They’ll probably all unsubscribe because I’m ignoring them and then I’ll have to start from scratch again, but my mind’s gone to that primal place where the only thing that matters right now is what my cunt wants.
I get the vibrator all the way inside of me until the little silicone rabbit ears are hugging my swollen and sensitive clit.
I wait again. Every second feels like downright torture.
“Guestie?” I say, my voice way huskier than it has any right to be. I try to clear my throat subtly while I wait for him to chat again.
Just when I think he’s left me hanging, his message comes through.
Guest_110793: Waiting for you to do the other thing I asked you to, Red.
It takes a second to remember what he’s even referring to, but then I’m using the fingers of my free hand to tug on my nipple like he asked, flicking the barbell that runs through it. The moan that falls from my lips is wanton and needy. My hips roll of their own accord, desperate for friction.
Guest_110793: Turn it on. Switch it to your favorite setting.
Even with how tiny I have the preview screen, I can see how my body twitches when I switch the vibrator on and it’s almost embarrassing.
Guest_110793: Fuck yourself.
I’m rarely vocal during sex, at least not like this.
I talk a lot—probably too much, some might say—but I don’t whimper and whine like this, even with women.
Moans are the most men are usually able to pull from me, and even then, I’m usually exaggerating them.
But tonight, I have to tear my fingers away from my nipple to cover my mouth so I don’t wake up Dad.
The guest’s messages come through every so often and it takes everything in me to focus even a bit of my attention on reading them. Thank god he doesn’t give me anymore commands. I don’t think I could obey them if I tried, my mind singularly focused on coming.
Guest_110793: There we go. That’s all you needed, isn’t it? Someone to help you submit.
Guest_110793: Fuck your pretty cunt for me. God, I wish I could be there to fuck you myself.
Guest_110793: You’re so fucking sexy, baby. Are you gonna come for me already?
I give him a tiny, jerky nod that makes my desperation way more apparent than I want it to be, so I’m grateful he can’t see it. Another message chimes through, but I’ve reached the point where delaying my orgasm is no longer an option.
My wrist aches as I speed up the thrusts, my other hand slipping down and rubbing my clit to make up for taking the vibrator’s stimulation away when I needed the freedom to fuck myself deeper.
My body moves in conflicting ways—my back arching in pleasure, but my knees coming together like it’s trying to stave off the climax.
The orgasm that hits is one that makes me understand why the French call it a little death.
I’m practically panting afterwards, the chimes from the chat muffled for a few seconds as my body tries to center itself.
I resist the urge to toss the vibrator away from me after I turn it off and pull it out, staring up at the ceiling.
Another chime comes through and I blink, almost lazily pulling my eyes over to the chat.
Guest_110793: Such a good fucking girl, Red. So pretty when you come for me like that. Made me come so hard. You okay?
I nod slowly before remembering he can’t see me, clearing my throat. “Yeah.”
The partial use of my screen name is just the thing I needed to remind me that this man is a stranger and I’m not Austin Taylor right now. This bliss I was feeling is chased away by the uncomfortable realization I’d just been entirely too vulnerable and I couldn’t take it back.
I compose myself, pulling myself out of the slumped position I’d fallen into, closing my knees to hide my pussy from the camera. I want to log off.
Guest_110793: Are you really? I’ll make an account when I get off work tonight so I can watch you again, but I don’t wanna leave til I know you’re alright.
“I’m fine,” I promise, hating the way my voice sounds unsure. I don’t try for subtlety when I clear my throat this time. “I know you’re new here, but usually everyone logs off after I come,” I joke.
It’s pretty transparent.
He sends another $50 tip through and I check the show’s total. Over $500. I’ve never gotten this much in one night, much less from an impromptu show.
For once, swindling this much money from a group of men doesn’t make me feel in control. It makes me feel cheap, ironically.
Guest_110793: Sounds like you’re back to yourself, so I’ll do that. Have a good night, Red. See ya later.
I log off before I can do something as stupid as getting my hopes up about talking to him again. I should reach out to the site and see if there’s a way to block someone who isn’t a subscriber yet.