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Dinosaur costume and dildo: $50
Pass.
Pretend to be my mom and punish me: $25
Double pass.
Rub your clit and call me baby: $50
Not bad.
I almost select the last one, knowing it’s an easy gig, but the next request catches my eye first.
Fuck yourself in a schoolgirl outfit. Refer to me as Daddy and tell me you’ve been naughty: $500
Hell yes. That’s a shit ton of money.
A massive smile spreads across my face as I select the message and jump to my feet. I skim the words rapidly, already absently nodding along with the request. It’s nothing crazy or descriptive. Just a man with a school girl fantasy. He even offered to tip me an extra hundred if I play with my ass while impaled on a dildo. The only caveat is that he wants me to film live so we can chat.
I can definitely do that, and I have just the costume to fulfill this man's fantasies.
I reply, letting him know I’ve accepted the request and will be on in an hour. I’ll need some time to get ready. He immediately agrees, and I chuckle. Damn. He’s eager. Eager is good. Eager means extra tips and a quick payday.
Stripping my clothes off as I go, I head to the Jack and Jill bathroom that I’ve claimed on the bottom floor of our two story house. I cringe when I pass Ro’s old room, like I always do. A pit forms in my belly, like it always does. I force the anger and sadness down, refusing to let it spoil my good mood.
I’m about to make a shit ton of money and that’s all that matters right now.
Just like last night, I pile my hair onto my head, but instead of taking a quick shower, I opt for a bath. I get better tips when I’m shaved from head to toe like some sort of naked mole rat. I turn the water on hot, pour a cup of peach scented bath salts into the mix and a splash of matching bubble bath just because it makes me happy.
I set up my speaker with my favorite playlist, turning the volume to a wholly inappropriate level with a big smile on my face. My eyes skim my bathroom looking for—
Shit.
Grabbing my empty coffee cup, I head to the kitchen for a refill, completely naked and unbelievably free. The cool morning air is blowing through the open window above the sink, sending shivers down my spine, and I grin.
Freedom.
The melodic sounds of Summertime Sadness by Lana Del Rey spill from the bathroom down the hall, filling the kitchen in a way that has me spinning and singing as though I really am free. As though I’m actually in control of my own life. My own choices.
As though I have choices.
My smile tries to waiver but I shake off the depressing, truthful thoughts reminding me that this isn’t real, that I’m not really free. I force them away. There’s no time for them. Not here. Not now.
My phone pings, the sound coming through my speaker.
I grin again, knowing it’s a notification from the camming app I use. There’s definitely no time for sadness because right now, I have a nameless, faceless man waiting with a full wallet, ready to fund my future.
I take my time in the bath, soaking and shaving. Making sure I’m not only fresh and clean, but relaxed. Being relaxed is key, I’ve learned. Relaxed and confident.
I get out just minutes before I’ve gone pruny, and quickly lotion my entire body. Usually, I keep my hair up and off camera, along with my face. But a naughty schoolgirl costume screams for braided pigtails. Once those are done, hanging down past my shoulders in thick Dutch braids, I head to my closet.
Dropping down to my knees softly, I crawl toward the back where boxes of my parent’s belongings are stashed. Baby blankets, photo albums, and random knick knacks that I’ll treasure till I die.
There’s another box, a smaller one I refuse to acknowledge that taunts me every time I come to this back corner. It’s full of all the things I wish I could say to Roman, but he left before I had the chance.
Ignoring Roman’s box, I press a kiss to my fingertips and place it over top of my parents’ names scrawled in Sharpie on the simple brown cardboard, silently apologizing for this.
For my life.
