Private Eye

by Katrina Jackson

  Maya loved every inch of her body and she had never shied away from showing it off. The rounded plane of her stomach, her slightly drooping breasts that ended in hard points when she was happy, every manicured nail, every light stretch mark, all of the white scars that attested to her lifelong clumsiness, even that small keloid on the back of her ankle – a constant reminder that you should never let a boy convince you to do anything, especially not jump out of a tree. Every perfect imperfection was hers. And apparently there was an audience very willing to log onto a chatroom and pay premium rates for the privilege of watching her touch herself exactly as she liked. It was a revelation.

  But the highlight of her new career was Thursday nights. Thursday nights were her own personal treat. She couldn’t stop smiling as she sprayed herself with her favorite perfume, a light floral scent that made her feel fragile and powerful all at the same time. Even though he wouldn’t smell it tonight, she sometimes liked to fantasize that one day he would. Because Thursday nights were her regular, private chats with MasquerAsiaN.

  Maya always tried to remember the screen names of her most active clients and MasquerAsiaN had distinguished himself immediately. Within a week of first popping up in her public room, he’d gone from a practical stranger to a regular client, chatting to her casually and mostly not sexually; his favorite topic seemed to be the books on her nightstand, just barely in view behind her. It took a lot to notice a stack of cozy mysteries when she was half naked on screen, so she’d started rotating the stack to pique his interest.

  By the time he finally requested a private show, Maya had created a rough profile of him in her head; a list of information she’d unconsciously compiled and analysis of what it all meant. He was Asian, obviously. He chatted with her every day but at different times of the day and night, which led her to believe that he traveled a lot for work. He was probably in a relationship since, of all of her clients, he wasn’t aggressive in his requests; he clearly wasn’t hard up for any kind of sexual release. Although she also considered that maybe he was just a good guy. But Maya didn’t have a great amount of experience with whatever one of those looked like, so there was a mental asterisk next to that tidbit. He also never haggled with her about prices and he always tipped her well above the app’s suggested rate. Clearly he was financially comfortable.

  The only part of this that should have mattered to Maya, Cam Model #2364, username: ThickaThanASnicka, was the financially comfortable part. MasquerAsiaN was exactly the kind of client cam workers dreamed of.

  But Maya, the romantic, was unfortunately preoccupied by the way MasquerAsiaN always confronted the jerks in her public chatroom who asked her for the filthiest shit but never wanted to pay for it. Or the fact that he never forgot to ask how her day was as soon as their private chats started. Or that he sometimes paid her to just lie in front of her laptop’s webcam and tell him a story. And she’d been on cloud nine after he remembered that marigolds were her favorite flower. But the best thing – the thing she wouldn’t admit to anyone, not even Kierra – was the way her heart skipped a beat every time he asked her to call him ‘baby’ or ‘sweetheart’; wanting her to pretend as if they were in a long distance relationship, instead of in the midst of a transaction. Maya could measure just how far gone she was over him – a man who always wanted to see her but never turned on his webcam so that she could see him – by how much her heart swelled when she saw his username appear in her public chatroom. Even worse was that she’d started to think of Thursday nights as their date night – a time when they could jump straight to their private chat and just be together. Virtually.

  ThickaThanASnicka has logged in.

  She tried not to chew on her bottom lip as she waited for him to log on; she didn’t want to disrupt her perfect lipstick application. Maybe it was the fact that they’d never met in person and he’d never let her see him, but those few seconds between when she logged in and MasquerAsiaN’s request for a private session were always the worst. Her insecurities bubbled to the surface of her usually thick skin and she wondered if this would be the night that he didn’t show.

  But then he was there.

  MasquerAsiaN has logged in.

  He sent her a private video chat request immediately.

  ThickaThanASnicka

  Hi honey

  MasquerAsiaN

  Hi :D

  Maya wanted to berate herself as her stomach flipped, but she could do that later. She’d been looking forward to this all day.

  MasquerAsiaN

  How was your day?

  Such a simple question, with such a complicated answer.

  Today she’d had to call her younger brother Jerome and tell him that he was $50 from maxing out his monthly budget. And she’d fought with her sister Kaya about failing a midterm. And then Kierra had announced that she was moving out to shack up with her bosses, which meant that Maya needed to find a new roommate ASAP.

  But she didn’t want to think about any of that right now.

  ThickaThanASnicka

  Better now that I’m chatting with you.

  MasquerAsiaN

  You probably say that to all the guys. ;)

  ThickaThanASnicka

  I say it to the girls too. :*

  MasquerAsiaN

  LOL

  ThickaThanASnicka

  How was your day?

  MasquerAsiaN

  Long and technically ongoing. I really should have cancelled tonight.

  Maya’s heart plummeted to her stomach.

  ThickaThanASnicka

  But you didn’t…?

  MasquerAsiaN

  I didn’t. I wanted to see you.

  ThickaThanASnicka

  See me do what? ;)

  MasquerAsiaN

  Just see you.

  Maya couldn’t stop the surprised gasp that escaped her lips or hide the shy smile that spread across her face.

  MasquerAsiaN

  You’re so fucking beautiful. I don’t tell you that enough.

  ThickaThanASnicka

  You tell me that every Thursday. (:

  She wondered if he could see the blush she felt spreading over the high points of her cheeks.

  MasquerAsiaN

  Like I said. Not enough.

  ThickaThanASnicka

  I wish you would let me see you.

  She wanted to take the words back immediately; she’d typed at the speed of her heart, which was apparently moving faster than her rational brain. The words were there, staring at her. The chat bubbles indicating that he was typing a response popped up and then disappeared. Maya kept the smile on her face, because that was cam model 101, but she felt as if she was dying inside. It seemed like an hour before he finally responded, but it couldn’t have been more than twenty seconds.

  MasquerAsiaN

  I wish I could. But my job is sensitive.

  Maya was quick to respond, shaking her head and smiling.

  ThickaThanASnicka

  I understand. Let’s pretend I never even typed that : )

  MasquerAsiaN

  It’ll happen one day.

  She didn’t believe him. But she wanted to.

  MasquerAsiaN

  This is terrible timing but I have to go.

  ThickaThanASnicka

  Okay. I’ll refund this session. No worries.

  MasquerAsiaN

  I don’t need a refund. You earned it.

  ThickaThanASnicka

  Lol I didn’t do anything.

  MasquerAsiaN

  How long did it take you to get ready for me? Makeup, hair, lingerie? Lingerie that I really wanted to watch you take off btw ;) You earned every dollar.

  Maya couldn’t help but laugh, which helped her fight back the tears she felt building at the back of her eyes.

  MasquerAsiaN

  But if you really want, you can do something for me.

  ThickaThanASnicka

  Anything.

  There she was, typing too fast for her own good again
. But her heart was beating so hard in her chest; foolishly anticipating all of the possibilities of things he could ask for. Things she would give him without hesitation.

  MasquerAsiaN

  I want you to think about me when you touch yourself tonight.

  Her smile was instantaneous.

  ThickaThanASnicka

  I do that already.

  In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought to herself, as she pressed send on that message.

  MasquerAsiaN

  So do I.

  Goodnight sweetheart.

  ThickaThanASnicka

  Bye, babe.

  When Maya logged out of their chat, she considered going into her public room, but she didn’t have the heart for it tonight. She walked into her en-suite bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. He was right, her makeup was worth what he’d overpaid. And more.

  A single tear slipped down her left cheek.

  “What a fucking cliché. Get a grip, girl,” Maya said aloud to her reflection. A half confession in the privacy of her bathroom to her mirror-self made her feel marginally better. But it didn’t dull the disappointment she felt at not getting to enjoy their regular hour long session. She looked forward to it every week, maybe even more than he did. Even though she couldn’t see him, there was something about fucking herself to his very specific directions that made her feel close to him. Whoever he was.

  Maya reached for the packet of makeup removal cloths and slowly wiped the masterpiece she’d created for him away. And then she did as he’d asked: climbed into the shower and thought of him while she brought herself to a gentle orgasm with the small bullet vibrator she kept there for just such occasions. A small vibrator that was a gift from MasquerAsiaN in fact. The note attached to the package he’d sent to her P.O. Box said that he dreamt about using it to stimulate her clit while they fucked. She called that image to mind tonight; wanting him more than she could bear.

  It was silly, she knew, to be the sex worker falling for her client. But it was too late to go back now. The only thing that ruined the beautiful warm glow of her post-orgasmic steam was that when she came, she wanted to call out to him. But she didn’t even know his name.

  one

  Kenny pulled his car up to the wrought iron gate outside of Lane and Monica’s house and base of operations. He pressed the intercom button and rolled his eyes when Kierra’s voice greeted him through the speaker.

  “State your business.”

  “You know why I’m here, Kierra.”

  “Refresh my memory,” she teased.

  “Kierra, this is my first day. Don’t make me late.”

  “You’re making yourself late, playboy.”

  Kenny let out an exasperated breath. “My transfer was approved so I’m here to join Monica and Lane’s-”

  “Super-secret spy operation.”

  Kenny looked directly into the camera mounted on top of the keypad. “Open the gate.” He heard her giggle before the gate began to slowly open for him.

  He parked next to Kierra’s old Honda, which he recognized from the brief period when he was running surveillance on her for Monica and Lane. He climbed out of his car, smoothed his pants and sweater and headed toward the house. He was almost at the front door when it opened. Kierra greeted him with a smile. His eyes involuntarily scanned down her body, widening as he took her outfit in.

  “Do you always dress like this at work?”

  She gave him a blank stare and frowned, “Like what?”

  “Like,” he moved one hand up and down to indicate her body, “Like this.”

  Kierra looked down at herself and Kenny’s eyes followed her gaze. Kierra was normally a good six inches shorter than him but in her very tall high heels, the top of her head came just about to his chin. From the ankle straps of her shoes to the hem of her very short black skirt, there was just miles of bare, smooth brown skin. He wondered if she could sit or bend over without flashing everyone in the room in a skirt that short. And then he felt like a perv for wondering. And then his eyes traveled over the almost demure thin long-sleeved, turtleneck sweater — almost demure because it was very obviously see-through and Kenny’s eyes scanned over her black lace bra. He tilted his head back and raised his eyes to the top of the door frame.

  “That outfit is an HR reprimand waiting to happen,” he said.

  “Well, as I’m the only support staff on site, I’ll make sure to file your complaint about my outfit just as soon as you submit it. With all of the others,” she added playfully.

  His head tilted down, but he kept his eyes squarely on hers. “Have there been other complaints about your work attire?” Her smile made him instantly wish he hadn’t asked that question.

  She leaned toward him and stage-whispered. “Every night.”

  He groaned. She giggled. He wondered if this transfer was a good idea.

  “Can I- Can I come in now?”

  “Oh yeah. Absolutely,” she said, opening the door wider to let him in.

  Kierra closed the door behind him and motioned for him to follow her through the kitchen, into the pantry. In the small room, she turned to him and stretched her arm up to the second highest shelf. “Baking soda box,” she said, pulling it down. “If you feel around behind it you’ll find a lever.” She then moved out of the way for him to do just that.

  “All the way to the back...?” He asked and then he felt it. “Oh okay.” He pulled the switch toward him and the wall at the back of the pantry began to open slowly.

  “Et voila. Welcome to Command,” she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

  He worried that she might topple over. “Command?” He asked, with a raised eyebrow.

  “It’s her nickname. Just go with it,” Lane said, his voice coming from the kitchen and startling them both. He appeared at the pantry door and leaned one shoulder against the frame. His eyes were focused on Kierra. “You got a minute?” He asked her.

  Kenny rolled his eyes and looked away. He could feel the sexual tension arcing between them and he’d had enough of being in the middle of that in Berlin. “I’m going to go find Monica,” he announced, slipping through the hidden door, not that they cared.

  “She’s in her office. First door on the left,” Kierra yelled after him and then giggled and then moaned.

  Kenny tried to forget that moan and walked quickly down the stairs. He entered a foyer that honestly felt too classy for a secret spy outfit. There were elegantly framed art prints on the black walls. Spotlights on the ceiling illuminated the small room and a single table at the farthest wall was topped with two orchids in a slim vase. The room felt better suited for the entrance to a modeling agency or something less clandestine.

  There were two hallways jutting off of the foyer to the east and west of the building. Kenny followed Kierra’s directions and stopped at the first door in the east hallway. It was slightly ajar and he could see Monica inside sitting at her desk, writing. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. This wasn’t technically his first impression, but he wanted to present himself to her in his best light; calm and professional. He’d practically begged for this transfer; serving under Monica was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She was a legend in The Agency and until now she’d never been willing to work with anyone on a long-term basis besides Lane. Kenny knew it was a huge honor that she’d approved his request. It meant that she saw potential in him. And he didn’t want to disabuse her of that notion. He didn’t want to let her down.

  “Are you going to come in or do you plan to just stand there staring at me?” Monica asked without looking up from her desk.

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Sorry, I um…”

  She looked up then with one raised eyebrow. “Where’s Kierra?”

  He pointed toward the foyer and opened his mouth to speak, but closed it because the truth, “She and your husband are probably fooling around in the pantry,” felt strange to even think, let alone say.

  “I’m here,” Kierra announ
ced, pushing Kenny out of the way to stride confidently into Monica’s office.

  Kenny watched Monica’s eyes glide over Kierra’s body appreciatively as she walked around the desk and placed a stack of files in front of her.

  “Is this Lane’s doing?” Monica asked Kierra with a small smirk on her face.

  Kenny stepped tentatively into the office. Kierra smiled and Kenny noticed that her lipstick was smudged. He looked away, not wanting to see any other signs of her encounter with Lane.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Kierra said. Kenny added the lust dripping from her voice to the list of things he wanted to forget. “He told me to tell you-” Kenny turned back as Kierra’s voice went quiet to see her leaning over Monica and whispering into her ear.

  When she was done, Monica stood from her chair. She walked behind Kierra and moved the hair from her left shoulder, exposing her delicate neck. And then she bent down to return the favor. Whatever Monica whispered to Kierra made her shiver violently.

  “Do you two want some privacy?” Kenny asked. Which only seemed to make Kierra shiver even more.

  It took a second before Monica moved from behind Kierra and crossed the room. Her cold, assessing eyes settled on him and she said very normally, as if she hadn’t just been flirting with her PA in front of him, “No need. Come on. Let’s get you up to speed on our new job.”

  Kenny shook his head and followed her out of her office, wondering again if maybe this transfer had been a mistake. They walked down the hall, past the foyer and into a boardroom on the other side of the underground structure. She indicated that he should sit in a chair at the long oval oak table and she moved to a small podium with a computer atop it.

  “What do you know about the Mehmeti family?”