by Emma Bryson
Liv smiled, surprised I’d caught her reference. “None of your business, Simba.”
I shrugged. “You can’t escape Disney films with three younger sisters.”
Liv shifted from one foot to the other. “It’s just a home office—I store a bunch of stuff there for my Etsy shop.” She shrugged. “I don’t have to work retail anymore. It pays the rent.”
Drumming her manicured nails against her coffee mug, Liv quickly turned from me, her black waves bouncing over her shoulders.
It was a clear giveaway—She’d obviously realized that she was spending too much time discussing something she didn’t want to, and now she was on a direct trajectory with a lightning-quick subject change. What was it that always made Liv so defensive about talking about her work?
“I didn’t know Chase was back playing again. Is it a big game?”
“Nah, he’s not playing—he’s gone to watch. I think he’s hoping to mend a few bridges with his old team.” I clenched my jaw briefly to dispel the tension pooling there.
Liv’s mouth twitched upwards. “It’s a shame he’s not playing. Chloe used to enjoy watching him.”
I could feel the crease forming between my eyebrows as they knitted together. It used to be my life’s mission to keep Chase away from my sisters. I grunted an uneasy, non-committal response. Truth was I’d put Chase on a secret training regimen the moment he’d stepped back into my gym, barely two days ago—and he didn’t need me to tell him what chasing tail could cost him.
Neither did I. With a few personal training clients still on my list, a gym to manage, and part-time business school, I barely had time to eat properly let alone commit to anything beyond a quickie with righty in the shower. Fuck, it had been at least a month since I’d even had a Tinder hookup.
Liv yawned, her hands stretching above her head and her perfectly weighted breasts arching forward. Beneath the thin fabric of her shirt, her nipples were starting to pebble.
Fuck me. She wasn’t even wearing a bra.
I sighed, the force of the air leaving my lungs coming out more as a groan.
I tried to remind my dick about the whole “no time” thing. And the “little sister’s best friend” thing. Man, this week was going to be torturous.
In the best possible way, my dick reminded me. Despite Chloe’s awkward suggestion, touching wasn’t an option, but I had to admit that I was damned glad that looking was.
Liv broke the silence. “Well, I’m working nights, so I’m going to go back to bed for a while. Make yourself at home.”
Liv stalked off into her room, leaving me with a half-chub and half a cup of lukewarm coffee.
Balls. I ran my fingers through my hair. There was no way I was going to manage here for a full week without losing my mind. But leaving now would just make things super weird.
Frustrated, I grabbed my phone out of my jacket pocket and sent a message to Chloe.
Chloe Wallis, you are SO dead
The tension holding fast to my shoulders dissipated a little, but for some reason, I still felt uneasy, like something wasn’t quite adding up.
What kind of Etsy store owner needed to work nights?
Chapter Two
Olivia
I huffed a sigh and sprawled on my bed, sending message after relentless message to Chloe.
CHLOE
OMG
I’M LITERALLY DYING RN
WTF HAVE YOU DONE
“That bitch better have bought onboard Wi-Fi,” I mumbled. Staring at the screen, three magical dots appeared then quickly disappeared.
OMG YOU ARE NOT IGNORING ME RN!!!
I SWEAR...
Finally, from Chloe:
Chill, Bitch. You fine.
Fine? Fine?! Hell, no, I wasn’t fine. I’d been swallowed by a pit of mortification so deep I’d burn to death before I ever reached the bottom.
How the crap was I supposed to do my freaking job knowing that Nate was on the other side of a paper-thin wall? I’d just released my camming schedule for the next month—there was no way I was pulling out of it now. What if Nate walked in on me while I was performing? My stomach flipped out at the thought of Nate watching me while I was live on cam.
Then it flipped again. This time with excitement rather than fear.
No. There was no way I was going there. Camming was something I did for me—and only me. While the thought of other people finding out about it didn’t scare me, per se, it did creep me out that someone might ruin the vibe I had with camming.
Camming had helped me to connect with myself. To truly know myself—to know what I liked, what I didn’t like...and the thought of someone else having a say in what I did or didn’t do on cam freaked me out. Thus the reason I hadn’t had a long-term boyfriend since high school. I just didn’t expect anyone else would understand—especially not with the trouble other models had with holding down steady, healthy relationships. And what being on cam did for me was too important to let it be complicated by a guy.
I sighed, sending one final message before I threw my phone on my nightstand.
Chloe Wallis, u r SO DEAD.
* * *
Most camming sessions I could just tune out the background noise, pump some music, and do whatever I wanted between private shows, but tonight was different. With my stomach full of butterflies, I messaged out to my followers.
Change of plans, Honeybees, I’m going to be doing a silent show tonight—you’ll just have to cope without hearing my sexy voice—HoneyQueenxx
Within minutes responses started to come through. A couple of my occasional viewers were annoyed that I wasn’t doing my usual show, but my most regular followers liked to see a different side of me every now and then. In the end, the content was up to me—I was in control, and they damn well got what they were given. Anyone who didn’t like my rules would find themselves permanently banned faster than you could say “dickwad.”
It wasn’t like I did the shows for them, anyway.
Camming gave me control. Not only over my own business and lifestyle, but control over my body. From the moment that I first dared to click that stream button, I felt a sense of empowerment. On cam, I explored my body in ways I never would have otherwise, and I reveled in it, learning everything about every glorious inch of myself—learning even to love the parts of myself I didn’t quite like. I loved camming, and through learning to love myself on cam, camming ended up loving me even more.
I started to set up my work station, turning on the background icicle fairy lights and draping lacey fabric across the side lamps to soften their bright white glow and create dappled patterns. I spread blankets and cushions on the floor and got my props ready, wiping them to make sure they were sanitized.
Spanking paddle, check. Hitachi, plugged in and ready to roll. And for tonight’s show, I was also getting out a small black ball gag. It was a toy I rarely used, mainly because I preferred to dirty-talk with my viewers, but I liked how it would enforce my message: this one would be silent.
Stripping off my kitten pajamas I opened the office closet to display a colorful arrangement of one-piece teddies, lingerie, stockings, and themed outfits.
Although camming had become part of my routine, every time I opened this closet my heart started to race. There was just something about preparing for a show that made me feel buzzed. My hormones started ringing in my ears, and I felt a tingling all over my body.
My nipples started to gather as I pulled a delicate black lace bra over my breasts, adjusting and tucking my boobs in snugly. I opened a drawer and rooted around to find the matching panties, suspenders, and stockings.
I thought about Nate asleep in the next room and an erotic shiver ran down my spine. After the awkwardness of our initial encounter he’d relaxed a little, claiming the couch and watching basketball the rest of the afternoon while multitasking with some busine
ss school reading. His muscular shoulders were almost too wide for him to stretch comfortably across the couch, so he’d folded his left arm up behind his head in a pose fit for the cover of a fitness magazine. He’d been so transfixed on the game he almost hadn’t noticed me sneak out of my room to get a snack, but he’d jumped up soon after to buy us both Chinese takeout for dinner.
A person would have to be half dead not to notice how delicious he was, his expressive brown eyes lighting up as he explained the intricacies of different basketball plays. I had no idea why Chloe called him a stick in the mud—even if he did work almost 24/7, it was impossible not to see how passionate he was about what he did.
Feeling adventurous, I opted to finish my outfit with a leopard print slip, printed stilettos, and, reaching into a box in the back of my wardrobe, I rustled through to find one of my tails—a silvery butt plug with a fluffy, raspberry pink boa on the end.
Heading over to my computer, I took some promo shots and material from my last show and put up some PG-13–rated stuff on Twitter and Instagram. Although most of my regular paying viewers had come from the main site, many of them now followed me on social media—and a few of my more occasional viewers might decide to jump over if they saw I was active.
My heart started to skip and my cheeks flushed as it edged towards midnight. No matter how many shows I did I always started to get excited when I put word out there that I was about to perform. Even on bad days when everything was going wrong in my real life I knew I could step into my cam space and chill out, just being my weird self. When the camera was rolling I felt more confident, stronger, sexier—in some ways I was more me under the soft glow of the cam lights than I ever was working retail in the real world.
I turned on my cam, making sure the angles were perfect, and sorted my props so I’d know exactly where they were when I needed them. Once I went live, I drifted into a state where nothing mattered except me and the people watching. I liked to be prepared so that I didn’t have to worry about the details, and instead I could focus on my beautiful, fantasy cam world.
I pushed the button. People started to enter my room. I kept an eye on the names coming in, greeting the regulars with messages in the chat.
Hey StudMuffin, how are you today?
HankySpanky, nice to see you!
Back again, ILikeGirls? You always spoil me xx
I ignored the few troll messages from unknown floaters. Once they’d had their fun they filed out quickly anyway, flitting from one model to another to try to get a rise out of someone. Anyone who posted anything nasty I immediately banned, but now that I was an established model with a decent-sized community, the pushy trolls didn’t tend to come around as often. Messages started to come back from the guys.
Hey, HoneyQueen! I’m good thanks!
How’re you doing today?
Don’t we get to hear your sexy voice this time?
I leaned in close to the camera and whispered to them. “Guys, I have to be super quiet today because I have a house guest! My roommate is away and her brother is staying.”
Ha, she got her brother to stay with you?
Is he hot? Are you going to jump his bones after?
I fake-gasped to the camera, covering my mouth and batting my eyes.
I held a finger over my lips, pointed downwards, and typed out a reply.
Come on, boys, you know that you’re the only ones for me xx
I wrinkled my nose, brought my arms together in front of me to push my boobs together and then blew them a kiss. I smiled as I pulled the ball gag out from under the blanket I’d hidden it under and dangled it in front of the camera. I winked and bit down on the ball, fastening the leather strap at my nape.
Requests started coming through for different things. A few dom/sub requests came through on account of browsers seeing me wearing the gag. All in all, the public chat remained pretty tame, but I blocked a couple of weirdos who made repeated whispered requests completely outside of my comfort zone—once, and they got a polite decline, but anyone who repeatedly pushed on my boundaries was shown the door.
Number one rule of camming: know your limits, stick to them, and don’t take any shit from people who try to push their luck.
The show went on for a few hours, and several of my regulars paid for private shows and then left. HankySpanky stayed. I knew what he wanted, and performing for him was always a turn-on for me, but with Nate’s heavy breathing coming from the next room I wasn’t sure I could get away with our usual.
Finally, Spanky whispered for a private show.
Hey HoneyQueen, are you good to go?
I typed a response.
Well, I might have to be a bit quiet about it, but I’m sure we can manage, don’t you think? xx
He replied almost instantly.
That’s great to hear because I’ve been waiting for this all night, what with the tail you’re wearing.
Spanky and I entered a private show and I winked at the camera, removed the ball gag and turned my butt towards the lens, pulling gently on my tail so it tugged at the plug in my ass. Pulses of pleasure radiated through me and I swayed my hips from side to side, swishing the length of the tail around my cheeks and legs as I lowered myself onto my forearms momentarily, pushing my pussy up so the camera could see glimpses of it between tail swishes. Spanky didn’t respond—his hands were otherwise engaged.
I reached to the side of the blankets and unearthed the paddle that I had hidden away since the start of the show. I only ever did spanking for my elite private show members. While it was something I enjoyed occasionally, I wasn’t a fan of the constantly raw, bruised ass cheeks I’d get when I first started exploring spanking on cam—even though I was a fan of the intense orgasms I’d experienced afterwards.
I pushed my body up with one hand and brought my other around to rub the paddle in slow circles on my butt. I turned around and eyeballed the webcam for a moment, giving Spanky a small whimper.
“Spanky, I’ve been a bad girl,” I whispered.
Slap
“Spanky, I need you to punish me.”
Slap
“Oh god, Spanky, why does it feel so good?”
Slap
“Slap my ass again, Spanky!”
Slap
I screamed with the final self-inflicted spank, hot, stinging tendrils of pleasure throbbing through me. I rubbed the spanking paddle against my ass. Spanky thanked me and signed off. After he left, I took a few moments to collect myself before I headed back into my public room. My pulse was racing and I was horny and wet as hell...even more so than usual.
There was something about knowing that Nate was asleep in the room next to me that made my heart dance and my limbs shiver.
Nate
Half-asleep, I thought about Chase, the Nebula league, and the slap of the ball against the court. Slap, slap, slap. I screamed, play board in hand, as Chase flew down the court, his slick movements following my design to a T.
Slap. Once more and he aimed and jumped towards the hoop. As it slammed home, I yelled out and my vision zoomed in on a face cheering in the crowd.
Liv.
I woke with a start.
This room was unfamiliar. Warmer, homier than my cream colored apartment. It even smelled different. Sweet, rather than spicy. I turned and a mountain of cushions fell onto the floor.
Right, I was at Chloe’s.
I groped around for my phone and hit the button. It was three in the morning—still over an hour till I had to be up and moving. I groaned, shifting to my side as my head hit the pillow. This was stupid. What was I even doing here, just waiting around like some horny teenager hoping to get his dick sucked?
I opened Tinder and scrolled absently through my messages. It was obvious after tonight that Liv wasn’t interested. Although she’d been companionable at dinner, even showing an interest
in the game, she hadn’t thrown herself at me like I’d come to expect from women. She’d just been...comfortable.
Part of me envied her—she was so relaxed around people. Relaxed about life. She never changed who she was for anybody. Where she was the kind of person who could casually drop someone at the airport in pajamas, I was always all business, always ready to hit the ground running, often sleeping on the sticky black leather sofa in my office instead of making it back to my apartment.
I rolled onto my back and stretched my arms behind my head. Fuck, I’d been running nonstop since Dad had died.
My heart started to boom in my ears. I grasped at the pillow behind my head and threw it against the wall. My mind was buzzing—I could swear it was almost audible.
Yeah, this whole mindfuck situation really wasn’t going to help anyone.
I dragged my groggy ass out of bed. There was no way I was going down memory lane. Not now. Not with my whole future at stake. I needed a change in perspective, some cold water, and to stop moping around sporting nothing but a raging hard-on for my little sister’s best fucking friend.
Please, let the gods of renovation finish my place early.
I shuffled across the room, dragging my feet over the ground to avoid tripping over any foreign objects. A slit of soft light illuminated the tiny gap under Chloe’s bedroom door. I opened it, my eyes adjusting to the semi-darkness, and made my way slowly towards the kitchen.
I yelled out as I banged my foot against a chair in the hallway. My toe started to throb like a motherfucker.
Fuck. What was it with girls and useless furniture?
I was safe once I’d hobbled into the kitchen, the glow from the streetlights below enough to make out the lay of the land. I opened a cupboard, got a glass, and poured some ice-cold water.
I was still sporting a half-chub. I groaned, rotating my neck. Yeah, so much for playing it cool. At this rate, I’d be lucky not to bust a nut come morning.
I ran my fingers through my hair, placing the glass in the sink and walking back down the hallway.
A soft light glowed from the forbidden bedroom—Liv’s work space.
