Page 3 of Taken Off Camera
SilverFox:What is it? Show us, pretty boy.
“Just some junk mail that got mixed up with the presents you guys sent.” I slip the boxers back into the bag with my fingertips, then place it under my desk with a shaky hand. “Not worth your time.”
CHAT COMMENTS
DaddyBrooks: You’re pale, Elliot. Everything okay?
I force my lips into a pout. “Just boring mail. Not as exciting as what the rest of you sent.”
The chat isn’t satisfied.
CHAT COMMENTS
SweetTooth44:why are you hiding it??
Anonymous:Show us!!! SHOW US!!!
Anonymous:lol what’s wrong, Omega? can’t handle a surprise?
HeartEyes92:you’re driving us crazy over here, just show it!!
I reach for my water bottle and take a long sip to buy myself three more seconds of recovery time. My heart hasn’t stopped racing, but the professional mask slides back into place. Eight years in front of a camera have taught me how to compartmentalize.
I let my fingers toy with the zipper of my hoodie again. “Who wants to find out what I’m wearing underneath? Might be SilverFox’s purple lace…or it might be nothing at all.”
They forget the mysterious package as the chat shifts focus, tokens raining down as I drag down the zipper, revealing a strip of bare skin inch by inch. I rise to my feet and let the hoodie slip from my shoulders.
“Like what you see?” I turn to give them a view of the purple lace covering my ass.
CHAT COMMENTS
SkyKing69:whistlesdamn
BlueJay77:oooohhh yes
SweetTooth44:yesss baby
PixieDreamer:wolf whistle
SkyKing69:that’s what I came for
HeartEyes92:omg you’re gorgeoussss
Anonymous:strip faster!!
TIP NOTIFICATIONS
DaddyBrooks tipped 250 tokens—“Don’t keep me waiting, Elliot”
SilverFox sent 100 tokens—“That beautiful face is worth every bit”
SilverFox sent 50 more tokens—“Couldn’t resist… that”
As the tip notifications chime like slot machine payouts, I’m all sexy pouts and coquettish flirting on the surface. Underneath, a cold knot forms in my stomach. This isn’t the first time someone’s sent me their bodily fluids as a gift. The anonymous sender is escalating.
But I can’t let it affect the show.
I arch my back and let my fingertips skim the lace, playing to the camera while my mind racesahead to the moment when the red light will turn off, and I can figure out who the hell is stalking me.
