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-nyperson. 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 baggypants.
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 fingersthrough 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.
I force myself to smile as my stomach drops further. “Someone is a naughty boy.”
I have no way of knowing if it’s really a man behind the username or not. That’s the beauty of the internet: You can be anyone you want to be.
Maxxx8U: How much do you want to use the handle? 50? 1000? Better yet, grab a kitchen knife.