Page 85 of Outspoken

We settle into the blue cushions and I scan the men nearby to distract myself from the tequila sloshing around in my stomach. Should I try for a hookup? My pussy has cobwebs on it, so it'd be good to do some dusting. Maybe when the alcohol kicks in, I'll find a cute guy.

A heavy, oppressive darkness billows up from its hiding place.

I had three shots.

So, what?I should focus on enjoying myself. This is what I’ve wanted, what I’ve craved for months—freedom. A short mental vacation.

It’s fine.

Three shots are nothing compared to how much I used to drink.

I space out a moment, feeling the dark tendrils slithering through me as I stare blankly at the grass. When I focus again, Ashley and Destiny are talking about work.

“…in my three spare bedrooms,” Destiny is telling Ashley. “They’re all set up with backgrounds and lights. If you need extra income, I’ll help you start your feed. You don’t have to pay me anything to rent a bedroom until you start earning. Camming can be a slow climb. It might take a few tries before you get comfortable on camera and know how to encourage tips.”

Ashley looks iffy. “How many other girls do this at your place?”

“Five right now. Used to be a few more, but some have moved. You just pick a time slot and then pay for those hours. I have equipment you can borrow too. Amber left a bunch of her stuff when she stopped, so I kept it.” She glances at me. “You didn’t want it, right?”

“Oh,” I say, still trying to focus. “I completely forgot about that. Uh, yeah, you can keep it. Ashley can use my old stuff.”

I guess I could try selling the equipment since I don’t see myself camming again, but I’m also in a place of not caring about putting in the effort. The webcam, microphone, and lights were gifts from an ex-boyfriend anyway and they're all glitchy.

Ashley sighs. “I do need the money, but I don’t know. I’ll think about it. I don’t know if I’m comfortable doing those things while strange guys watch. Is it hard?”

The shots are heavy in my stomach—gurgling. Acid rises up the back of my throat, so I swallow. The burning won't stop.

My throat is on fire.

Ashley smacks my leg, so I glance over.

“Is it hard?” she asks.

“Is what hard?”

With a tsk, she says, “Camming. Is it hard? Like, tiring? Or do all your holes get sore?”

“Oh, um, you’ll get used to it.”

The acidic burning in my stomach and throat flows out through my limbs until my skin heats.

My whole body is on fire.

“It’s mostly a lot of chatting,” Destiny comments. “You chat with guys in the main room, give them the girlfriend experience, and then try to get one into a private room because it’s more money. You might get sore depending on how many private chats you accept or what you do. But it depends. Some guys just want you to tease them with sexy outfits.”

My cheeks flush as the shots soak in deeper. Tequila is swimming in my veins now and there’s no getting it out.

I can't get the darkness out.

“I had a C-section,” Ashley says. “Do you think they’ll care about my ugly scar?”

Suddenly, the immense burning beneath my skin stops. Every ounce of tension drips from my body. My limbs become heavy and hard to move, so I lay my head back against the cushion, mindlessly watching a guy chase a woman in the pool. It feels like I’m watching it happen in slow motion—around and around he chases her, never making contact. She always escapes him.

So many things in life are hard to grasp.

Destiny laughs at Ashley. “There are fetishes for everything. Some assholes might comment about it, but most won’t care. And if you get a guy who loves the scar, he’ll pay more.”

My veins buzz with a light, woozy numbness, and I take a full, deep breath. There's now a wall between me and all of my struggles.

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