Chapter Text
The room is always awfully quiet before the stream starts. The silence is both a lone witness and undeniable proof of your loneliness at once. It makes you too aware of yourself, or better said, the unmasked, real self, before you bury that version down in favour of the more desirable, carefully curated persona.
It’s comforting, in a way. Pretending to be someone else, putting on a show that’s well received. You’re desired, lusted after. Loved, even. In a depraved way, maybe, but you like to imagine it is so, your hurt mind mistaking the tips for affection, the gifts for pathetic, half-assed proof you’re loveable and cared about. Or at least could be.
But deep down, no matter how hard you try to convince yourself it could be otherwise for the sake of justifying the things you do to feel loved, you know it’s all a transaction.
Still, even with you being aware of the fact, it fills the void, soothes the wounds of mistreatment that have been inflicted to your heart and the deep-rooted ache for validation temporarily, for the duration of the stream.
Better yet, what you do doesn't come with explaining past events in your life that have scarred you, trying to communicate your complicated emotions, the fruitless labour of convincing someone to stay or the risk of getting hurt again.
Money is cleaner, simpler than emotion and real connections. A heartless tool that is a token of affection to some. You choose to see it the second way through the pink-coloured lens, through which you don't have the privillege of looking at other aspects of your life. That being said, to get paid and spoiled, fed the illusion of being cared about, all you have to do is show your body and be the teasing, sexy thing that complies to the perverse requests with a smile instead of questioning them. The world has shown you consistently that it’s the only thing men want anyway. No matter how good or different from the rest they seem, they all end up asking for the same thing and hurt you. Only this way you get to decide when it ends.
You don’t feel the same way about your body when the camera is on. It becomes an object. And no matter how degraded you should feel about the constant objectification, the reduction of your whole self to something to be used and discarded once the creeps paying you are satisfied and close their tabs, it’s oddly easier to live with. This side of you has edges you can define, unlike the complicated, introspective self you’re so unsure and troubled about.
You made the choice to do this at a desperate, dire time in your life, not thinking it will become anything solid, permanent. But before you even realised, it's no longer a choice, but a routine you’re trapped in. It gets exhausting, but you don’t know how to stop and truthfully, you can’t stop. You wouldn’t know how or who to be without it. Giving it up would be like giving up the only likeable part of yourself.
You bury each and every of those thoughts, turning the music up to quiet them down as you fix your hairstyle and touch up your makeup for the stream. The reflection in the mirror staring back at you doesn’t feel like you at all. She’s not real, you remind yourself, unsure of which version of yourself you’re thinking of when you say those words in your head, disassociating as you practice the facial expressions of a temptress to get back into the role you play when the live is on.
You open your mouth, applying yet another layer of the most runny mascara you own. It’s a moneymaker, the audience loves it when you look thoroughly ravaged by the end of the streams, feeling accomplished as if they’re the ones that brought you to that state.
The last among the finishing touches is lip gloss that exaggerates your pouty lips and brings them to attention under the bright light. Only briefly though, because no one is looking at your face when your clothes are off anyway.
By the time you’re done with adjusting the lighting and camera angle, you’ve already settled into well rehearsed role of the sexy, flawless minx that’s ready and eager to please. Teasing and bratty, but not too bratty, not too much of anything. She's easy. Easy to please, pursue, handle and easy in every other sense of the word. A siren when they demand it and a shy girl waiting to be dominated, all at once. A shapeshifter. Changing according to their wishes and pleas for the night.
You check yourself out one last time, positioning in your seat to offer just the right amount of your body to the view, enough to tease, enough to leave to the imagination and wanting more. Seconds before pressing the Start stream button, you put on a perfect smile for the camera. A smile that will show just how ever grateful and happy you are to see them. Despite not knowing who “they” even are, hiding behind their own screens and rather cringy usernames.
[Stream log #39 “Unwind with me ;)”]
[Viewer count:] 16
[Time stamp:] 00:00-00:27
Despite not having streamed in week, a longer pause than your audience is used to, you’re relieved that viewers are already pouring in at the same rate, aware of how replaceable you are in this business, but numbers assure you you haven't been replaced. Yet, at least.
“Missed me, guys?”
[System]
Jaxxx_83 tipped $50
Thought i’d lose it. Lookin sexy tonight kitten.
You exaggerate a sigh, heaving your chest in a deep breath. The sound you let out resembles a moan, a teaser of what they want, but you do it subtly enough to not make it obvious you’re doing it on purpose. “I’ve had a stressful week. You know I’d never leave you high and dry, don’t you?” You bat your eyelashes, the very image of a sorry girl who’ll do anything to make it up to them. “How about we… unwind together?”
König huffs with a smirk hearing those very words. You lived up to the title and image he pressed on the stream for. Some unwinding is just what he needs after a two week long mission, having so much pent up frustration to release. The idea going out to pick up some drunk girl at a bar to fuck for the night then have to deal her in the morning only adds to his frustration.
It’s why he clicked on the cam girl site, tired of the same repetitive trashy porn narratives too unrealistic for him to be satisfied enough with. He liked the anticipation, and most importantly, the lure of being able to interact with the material he’ll use to jerk off.
You were the first girl he clicked on and he was assured he didn’t need to search any further. You were perfect in your skimpy little outfit, tits spilling out from the tight top, playing with your tangled necklaces smartly to bring more attention to them, wearing a skirt so short that his eyes watch every move of your legs, hoping to get a glimpse of what’s underneath it.
You smack your glossy lips together and all he can think of is how he'd fuck that mouth of yours until your eyes are glistening with tears the same way you lips are from the gloss under the moody lighting pointed at you.
Just by watching the ''warm-up'' chatting, König already picks up on how well you respond to the tippers and comply to their stupid requests, a spike of jealousy rising in him. He’s been watching you for mere minutes and he’s already jealous. It’s the realisation that thousand of old creeps are watching you and jerking off to your beautiful face and body, typing cringy dirty comments with sticky fingers that repels him so much. As if he's any better, doing the same thing. It might be his god complex or, in his mind, the blatant truth that leads him to believe that they don’t deserve you like he does. No matter what they pay. And you’re still nice to them, a little angel, not playing favourites to please everyone.
Oh, he’ll make you play favourites.
He'll show you who actually deserves to watch you take off your clothes and play with your pussy. Prove to you that he’s the only one among the viewers who deserves to.
He presses the Make your account button and groans when it takes him to another tab, removing your stream from his view. He doesn’t have time to spare on making up an username and password, coming up with WolfeJäger66 on a whim and setting a password to something he won't forget, also the first thing that comes to mind: your screen name.
The next thing to do before he gets back to watching you strip is making sure to pay up. Converting money to SuperChat gifts would take too much time. Instead, he just fumbles for his wallet to enter his credit card information so he can tip directly. He curses when hurry makes him miss or mistake a number, having something to prove. So clearly he doesn’t want to waste time.
Once that is all set up, he finally returns to your livestream and takes in the new view that graces his screen. During his short absence that to him felt like a century, you’ve already discarded the pretty outfit you had on, now only covered with so little fabric of the black lace lingerie set that leaves even less for imagination.
“Thank you for the lingerie, Jax.”
König stares as you twirl a lock of hair around your finger, posing for the said patron, modelling the set apparently bought by that nobody.
“I think you got it a size too small, hm?”
You adjust the tight bra, the purpose of the action to casually draw eyes to your chest spilling out over the top and your peaked nipples that are visible through the thin lace. The matching thong has a tiny bow at the front, but what catches his eye the most are the small side strings that dig into the supple flesh of your hips, creatinga slight appearance of spillage over and under it. He can only imagine what it would be like if he could grip them with his hands, leave an imprint in the soft skin with his touch.
“I’m sure you don’t mind the tight fit, though.”
You wink playfully, aware of the effect your moves have on them. König’s eyes are plastered to your body as if he’s in a trance, a siren’s call freezing him incapable of any thought that doesn’t include you in some way, shape or form. His pants are increasingly, uncomfortably tighter, blood rushing to his cock.
[System]
0_D4ddyD0m69 tipped $120
”not even a bit baby. show how small it is on your ass ;)”
The new comment shakes him from the trance, reminding him why he gave away his credit card information to a sketchy site. He can’t have the undeserving bastards who don’t even know to get high end lingerie in your size to make it comfortable for you to wear be the highest tippers and ones you interact with. No matter how much of a tempting view you are in the tight set provided by another.
[System]
WolfeJäger66 tipped $250
”Take it off. I’ll buy you better ones.”
“Oh? A lot of new names tonight. Should I give them a proper welcome?”
The question is rhetorical, since you’re already reaching behind your back to undo the small hooks holding the bra buckled.
“As you wish, WolfeJäger.”
The satisfaction he gets from you saying his name, even if it's just a dumb username, is surreal. König drags his pants down just enough to free his cock from his boxer briefs, spitting into his hand and stroking it from tip to base, coating it in his spit to make his tight fist slide up and down easier.
You’re stripping the set just for him, throwing it to the side like the useless piece of fabric it is.
“Is this a warm enough welcome? Or I could show you just how warm things get around here…”
''Fuck...'' he mutters to himself, teasing his tip with his thumb, your attention and ignorance of others the best kind of aphrosidiac. He presses the donation button without sparing it a look or a thought.
[System]
WolfeJäger66 tipped $300
Even without any comment in the caption, it’s clear what he wants. The tip is your cue to put on a show and show him just what your streams entails.
You reach up your bare body, hand finding your breast and squeezing it gently before your fingers catch your nipple between them and roll it, the other mimicking the same alternating motions.
He fucks his hand while you play with your tits with one hand, the other falling between your legs, spreading the slick pussy lips to present yourself, holding off the pleasure of seeing you get yourself to cum on camera for him to see.
[System]
kneel4cash tipped $100
”fuck your pussy rough”
[System]
NightShift18 tipped $95
”Give us a close up!!!!pls”
The small tips flooding the chat are nothing compared to what König is willing to spend to have you ignore them as you are right now, eyes droopy while the pads of your fingers are tracing your entrance and sinking in to the second knuckle slowly.
The sounds you produce are heaven, every breath you take coming out needy. He holds back his own to hear you better, turning up the volume higher, not caring if the neighbours hear it by coincidence. They should know it’s him provoking those pretty whines out of you, the show you put on is for him. It’s the others’ turn to be jealous this time around, even more so since he plans to make you only his own very soon.
König matches his pace to the one of your fingers thrusting in and out of your wet pussy, imagining himself replacing them, sinking deep inside you to hit each and every place your small fingers can't reach.
[System]
0_D4ddyD0m69 tipped $150
”faster, princess”
You obey that one, angling your fingers a little better to hit that spongy spot repeatedly with each drag of your fingers along your inner walls. The palm of your hand presses against your clit, a firm pressure you can't help but to grind against, even if it falters your quick thrusts.
König struggles to type and send a new donation with his non-dominant hand, edging closer to the finish line, his hips bucking upwards into his fist.
[System]
WolfeJäger66 tipped $500
”Cum with me.”
“M-Mh… I’m close.”
You let out a whine at the sudden emptiness you feel when you retrieve your fingers from your pussy, replacing the stimulation of your g-spot with swiping tight circles over your clit, all with the intention to cum faster for the one asking you to.
He watches you squirm, chasing your orgasm and wanting to get away from the source of pleasure both at once. But you don’t stop, even when the stimulation gets too much and your moans turn increasingly high-pitched. Your brows furrow and eyes close shut, mouth falling open to let loose each and every frantic whine. There are no more witty remarks in you, all you can focus on being the waves of pleasure. Tears gather at the rims of your eyes, making the mascara messy around your eyes and streak down your flushed face.
''Gott--'' König shudders and lets out a deep, guttoral goan that's enchanced by your own noises in the background, spilling his load into his fist, all that tension released all at once with the orgasm. He doesn’t even have the mind to reach for tissues to clean his soiled hard and sheets, way too focused on watching your body trembling with aftershocks.
You take a moment to breathe through it, before gathering yourself to end the livestream with a tease to keep them coming back, like always. Your voice is breathy as you speak, gushes of slick smeared over your pussy still in full view, as if to make it up to them for ending the stream so quickly.
“That’s all you get for tonight, but don't be too sad about it. I promise I have something special planned for Saturday, so stay tuned!”
You blow a kiss to the camera and shut it off, turning his screen black and making him face his own reflection. He stays there unmoving, staring at the blank screen, the realisation and gravity of his state of mind washing over him—the fact that he just spent a thousand dollars on a cam girl and his only regret is that he didn’t get to spend more.
In that moment, he knows for certain that he has to have you.
And he’ll go to any lengths to make that happen.