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Which was good because she’d been extremely cash strapped after her great aunt Trish died and left her this place. She didn’t have any other marketable skills and due to her condition… well, suffice to say, her options were limited. After four months of the mortgage going unpaid, the bank was threatening foreclosure.
That was when Sloane discovered camming. It was entirely by accident. She was looking on Craigslist for jobs a person could do from home when she came across an ad that claimed employees could make five-thousand dollars a week. It sounded too good to be true. Especially when she looked into it and the job requirements were extremely vague. All it said was something like, Wanted: attractive friendly and personable female applicants who are self-motivated and good conversationalists. She called and it eventually came out that the company was an agency looking for cam girls.
She hung up with the guy as soon as she realized what it was about.
But then she got another foreclosure notice and, out of options, she started researching it on her own. Turned out that a lot of women were making a good living as cam girls.
And you didn’t need an agent to do it. Whether you were old, young, small, large—camming was for women of all shapes and sizes. The way the girls talked and wrote on forums about it, it was empowering. They got to make the rules and take home the money. Work their own hours and not be slave to a boss or work schedule. They were mothers, college students, grandmothers.
So one night, Sloane downed more than a few shots of tequila and started broadcasting. She made three hundred dollars that first night.
Not every night was that easy. Far from it. They put new models at the top of the list and she had to fight hard to get the kind of visibility she enjoyed today. It took hard work, determination, and a never-give-up attitude. But she made enough that first month to start paying the mortgage again and to stop the foreclosure process.
Granted, she didn’t eat much more than beans and ramen for a while, but she kept her house.
She shuddered even remembering that time in her life. She’d suffered almost daily panic attacks, only pulling it together for the hours she’d been on camera.
She shook her head. She’d never be in a situation like that again, she swore it to herself.
Even though she was rolling in the dough now, relatively speaking, she still lived spare. Things could change on a dime and she’d be prepared this time. Who knew how long she’d be able to cam? Yeah it was working for now, but what if guys stopped showing up to her room? She had to be smart. She invested a third of what she made each month in long term IRAs. Another third went into shorter term savings, and the last third she spent on monthly expenses.
So even though she was tired, she bucked up, slapped on a smile, and turned on her headset. She dialed Oliver’s number.
“Hello?” came the familiar timid voice she’d been talking to for almost a year now.
“Hey babe,” she said, walking over to the computer. “How ya doin’ this week?”
“Chrissy.” She could hear the confidence and pleasure infusing his tone as he said her cam pseudonym.
“Hi Olly. You ready for our date?”
“Of course. Always.”
“Fabulous.” Sloane clicked to connect their chat session so he could watch her on the cameras. He liked the intimacy of being on the phone with her at the same time he watched the feeds.
“Hi beautiful,” he said. “You don’t know how good it is to see you.”
“Rough week?” she asked, moving around the kitchen to the sink. She turned on the water and started washing her bowl from breakfast. Oliver liked watching her do things like this—the mundane little daily tasks were his favorite. And even though he always requested she be naked—he liked when she worked her way up to it throughout the call—that was as far as he ever took it. All he ever wanted to do was talk.
As far as Sloane could tell, he was just a lonely guy longing for connection.
“You have no idea. But I have to thank you. I took your advice and moved out of my parents’ house.”
Sloane couldn’t hide her surprise. She leaned her hip against the counter and looked back at the laptop camera. “That’s amazing, Olly. Congratulations.” She smiled wide. “I know you were struggling with that decision for a long time. How does it feel?”
He laughed a little, like he was embarrassed. “Good. It feels really good.”
“Did your mom make a big scene when you left?” Sloane was genuinely curious. She’d been talking to Oliver for almost a year now and his weekly drama with his mother had been a long saga of codependence and dysfunction, from what Sloane could tell.
