Chapter 3
Chapter Three
COVE
It’s anal night at BTL.
The room is warm under the lights, a little too warm, the air faint with synthetic vanilla and silicone.
I adjust one of the fairy lights framing the backdrop, angling it just right to catch the shimmer on my thigh-highs.
The Versa purrs behind me, a low, intimidating sound that makes my pulse tick upward.
I roll my shoulders back, exhale slowly, and settle in.
On-camera me is always sweeter, always dirtier.
Always just a little detached. Like sugar spun into armor.
I’m on all fours, ass high, face down, the Versa humming behind me like a threat and a promise.
Worth every damn penny. It’s too heavy to lug back and forth, so Lorna lets me keep it here, a perk of being a top earner.
It lives in the toy locker like a crowned jewel, and tonight, it’s got a starring role.
Anal night always draws the biggest crowd.
Maybe because I don’t do it every week, or maybe because they love the idea of me pushed to a limit.
There’s something about it that makes even the regulars a little more feral.
A few of them never miss it—SugarSnail, GlowstickGod, and of course VelvetRush.
I remember when he first tipped enough to buy a session outright.
Wanted me in nothing but whipped cream. I still have the outfit, somewhere in the costume bin.
The camera is set to capture the exact angle I want, focused entirely on the curve of my ass and the inevitable stretch.
In front of me, I place the dummy phone I keep in my locker, the one that shows live comments during streams without actually filming.
It lets me see the chat in real time, which adds a more personal edge to the performance.
I hit the button to go live.
“Hey, Sugars… I’m CottonCandyKisses, your server tonight. Dripping sweet and just for you, where one taste is never enough.”
Almost instantly, the chat lights up.
VelvetRush: Anal night! Stretch her out, baby girl.
SinAndSkin: I’m already rock hard. That ass is perfect.
I smile, easing the tip of the toy against my entrance. “Missed me, didn’t you?” I ask, voice low and breathy.
The stretch is intense from the start. The toy is massive, designed to overwhelm, and it pushes me open inch by inch. I let out a soft, broken moan and bury my face against the sheets for a moment.
“God,” I groan, dragging the words out for effect. “It’s so big tonight. Stretching me so wide.”
I arch my back a little more, not because I need to, but because the camera loves that curve.
They do, too. I can already picture VelvetRush fisting his cock, probably in some dark basement with headphones on, pretending no one else knows what he’s doing.
Some of them want eye contact. Some want to hear their name.
Some just want to see me come apart. I give them all a little of everything.
It’s choreography. Art, if you tilt your head.
More comments pour in, a steady stream of praise, filth, and fire emojis. The energy is electric, the kind that climbs over your skin and settles behind your eyes.
Then a new name appears in the chat.
MountMeEverest has joined the stream.
“Well, well,” I murmur, glancing down at the phone. “That’s a new one. I’d remember a name like that.”
There is no comment yet. Just a username. Watching.
“You must be shy,” I continue, smiling into the camera. “Do you want to be the one who stretches me instead? You wanna mount me, Everest?”
I glance at the name again. MountMeEverest. It’s new, but it sticks in my head.
Something about it—blunt, but kind of clever.
No emoji. No first-message thirst. Just..
. watching. I shift on my elbows, letting my thighs spread a little wider, like I’m putting on more of a show just for him.
“Don’t be shy, Everest,” I murmur, eyes locked on the phone screen. “I can take it. I promise.”
Still nothing. No response. Just presence.
That is fine. The quiet ones are often the ones who tip the most.
VelvetRush: Kisses, I wish I was the one filling that sweet ass.
I hum in approval. “I wish it was you too, baby. I bet you’d fuck me better, wouldn’t you?”
SinAndSkin: Picturing my cum dripping from that hole.
“Mmm,” I moan, voice growing hazier with each thrust. “That sounds so hot.”
The pressure is relentless. My breath stutters, my hips trembling as I grind back harder, needing more.
One hand clutches the sheets, the other slides beneath me, fingers slipping through slick heat until they find my clit.
I circle slowly at first, moaning into the mattress, the combination of stretch and friction dizzying.
“Oh fuck,” I whisper, the words barely a breath. “So full… so fucking full.”
The chat explodes.
VelvetRush: That’s it, baby. Fuck yourself dumb for us.
GlowstickGod: God, I’d ruin you.
SinAndSkin: Stroke that little clit, princess. Show us how messy you get.
I whimper, gasping as the toy pushes deeper with every thrust, dragging moans out of me I can’t fake. My fingers move faster, chasing the edge like it owes me money.
SugarSnail: Cum for us, Kisses. Make it loud…
My thighs shake. My stomach coils tight. I ride it like it might break me.
“I’m gonna cum,” I gasp, arching against the toy. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Everest.”
MountMeEverest: Stretch wider. Let me see you fall apart.
His message hits like a jolt. First words all night. My breath stutters.
It crashes into me like hot sugar poured over skin—too much and perfect all at once.
My voice cracks on the moan, raw and real, as my body jerks through it.
My hand stutters, still rubbing, as aftershocks ripple through my core.
The toy winds down slowly, still pulsing inside me, gasping for breath, fingers slick, thighs trembling.
VelvetRush: Fucking beautiful.
SinAndSkin: That’s my good girl.
Sweat trickles down my spine. My heart thunders behind my ribs. I reach out with a shaking hand and hit the stop button, trying to keep my smile from turning wrecked. I lie there, hips still raised, catching my breath like I’ve run a mile uphill.
Afterward, I reach for the camera with unsteady hands and roll onto my side. My post-stream tradition is simple. I pick one user, completely at random, and call out their name at the end. It is a fun little tease, and the fans love it.
Tonight, the honor goes to the shy newcomer.
“Everest,” I moan, letting his name curl off my tongue. “That was just for you.”
I smile into the lens and shut off the machine.
“Thank you for another sweet ride, babies. Until the next sugar rush.”
I blow a final kiss and end the session. The screen fades to black, and silence fills the room. My body relaxes into the pillows, the hum of the toy finally gone.
I stare at the last name on the list for a moment longer.
“Everest,” I whisper, more to myself than anyone else. “I wonder if he’s as shy in person.”
I lie there for a moment longer, staring at the black screen like it might answer something I’m not asking.
My body still aches in the right places.
The fake vanilla scent still clings to my sheets.
Everest’s name sits at the top of the chat log, untouched.
Silent. Watching. I wonder what kind of man picks a name like that, joins a stream like mine, and says nothing at all. The quiet ones always linger.