by Isa Mazzei
Ian looked over at Jonah and shifted uncomfortably. Jonah was spinning his phone on the bar top, listening to whatever the bartender was saying.
Ian looked back at me and tried to laugh. “That’s a bit condescending, isn’t it?”
“Sure. That doesn’t mean it’s not true.” I sighed. “We both know you’re a genius, Ian. That’s why I wanted you. That’s why I want you…” I looked at his hands again. “To shoot me. To put your stamp on this. Creatively.”
Ian smiled awkwardly.
I took his hand. “Don’t give up on yourself. We both know you’re better than shooting concerts or commercials or even—” I smirked “—porn. Even if it is the best porn the whole damn world ever saw!”
Jonah finally glanced over at us, his eyes landing on my hand, which still held Ian’s. I waited for him to come over. He didn’t. The pretty bartender reached out and touched Jonah’s shoulder, laughing. Jonah fingered his drink, uncomfortable but smiling.
×××
The outfit I had chosen for the video was a periwinkle blue satin La Perla set with a long strand of pearls and white thigh-high stockings. In addition to that, I had several outfit changes for sets of still photos we planned to take and a black silk robe for a strip tease video Jonah thought would be a good idea.
“To sell the porn,” he explained, expertly. “Like a trailer.”
As Jonah and Ian set up the lighting and camera in the hotel room, I slipped into the bathroom and put on my makeup.
“Where do you want to be?” Jonah called out.
“What do you mean?” I emerged from the bathroom in my lingerie, and I felt his eyes flick downward before landing back on my face.
“When you masturbate. Like, where will you be laying?”
“Oh.” I walked into the room and surveyed the furniture. Despite the vintage—and expensive—look of the hotel, the bed was disappointingly normal. There was, however, a velvet chaise against one wall.
I motioned to it. “That thing.”
Ian looked up, eyes bouncing around the room to avoid my body.
“Okay, I’ll light it.”
Jonah put on some soothing, ethereal music to “set the mood,” then directed me to walk to the curtained window and slowly remove my black silk robe, revealing the lingerie underneath.
This wasn’t my normal seduction style. Mine was mental, a game of eyes and questions. My go-to move was tearing off my T-shirt and straddling a guy’s lap. Confrontational and aggressive. This was different. Passive, gentle. Slow seduction was foreign to me. It felt awkward, forced. I took a few steps forward, untying the robe and letting the sash fall to the floor.
I burst out laughing.
“Oh my God—sorry, sorry.”
Ian stopped rolling and tilted the camera up.
Jonah sighed. “Just, pretend you’re a stripper. Like Cat.”
I nodded and went back to my starting position near the bed, leaving the sash untied. I tried again, walking softly across the room, letting the edges of the robe slide down my arms.
“It kind of just looks like it’s falling off,” Jonah criticized.
“Isn’t that the point?”
“The point is for it to tease. Like you’re taking it off slowly. Not like you just forgot to tie it.”
“I don’t know how to be seductive.”
He looked at Ian. “You seduce men literally every second of every day.”
I took a step forward and threw off the robe dramatically. I looked back at Ian and into the camera, trying to give my best “come hither” look.
This time, Jonah laughed. “You look possessed.”
I sat on the bed. “Let’s just do the other part, okay? Forget the strip tease.”
I yanked off my lingerie layer by layer, until I was left with just a pearl necklace and stockings.
I felt itchy.
Jonah and Ian adjusted the lighting for the second setup while I tugged at a loose thread on the duvet. Jonah sensed my discomfort.
“Okay so we’re going to just do one continuous shot. We’ll start on the bed and then move over to the chaise lounge, where you start masturbating.”
“Okay.” I lay back on the bed and tried to look hot. “Like this?”
“Yeah. Just relax, though. It’ll look better if you’re comfortable.”
I took a deep breath, watching Ian and the camera. “Well what do you want me to do?” I snapped.
“Just talk to me,” Jonah directed.
“About what?”
“Tell me about what kind of porn you like. How you discovered porn. Something like that. Just as a warmup.”
I nodded. “Well, I guess my first introduction to porn was, like, Neopets messages. Just talking to people, fantasy cybersex. Fairies and elves and stuff. That was all, really, until I dated a girl who was really into hardcore BDSM porn, which freaked me out, so I didn’t look at porn for years…”
Jonah must have signaled Ian, because I suddenly realized that we were filming. I played with my nipple, casual. “When I rediscovered porn, it was r/gonewild, amateur videos, things that felt real…I liked watching girls…” I began talking my way through a fantasy. Jonah motioned that I should move to the chaise lounge.
I arranged myself on the chaise lounge near the window, head on one end, feet on the other. I turned my body, hoping the blue upholstery made a flattering background. I held a glass dildo to my mouth and gave it a tentative lick. It was a bit thin to suck on. It wasn’t really dick-sized. I glanced at Ian, then Jonah, then back at the clear glass stick in my hand. I gave it another lick, slower this time. I closed my eyes and tried to relax. I hoped I wasn’t giving myself a double chin. “I guess I was describing this girl I saw on the subreddit who was just the hottest person I’d ever seen. I’m sort of distracted now,” I laughed, trying to make it cute.
The wooden armrest dug uncomfortably into my back. I pretended it wasn’t there, awkwardly arching my back. I slid my hand down my body and stared into the camera. I checked Ian’s face. He looked at Jonah. Jonah gave me a thumbs-up.
I let my voice go breathy. “Yeah she was blonde…definitely, definitely blonde…”
I began masturbating—mechanically, at first. I hadn’t thought to put lube on the cold glass dildo, and now I regretted not licking it better as it fought against going inside me. Once there, I moved it back and forth, blinking rapidly at the ceiling. One of my false eyelashes was falling off. I could feel the latex glue peeling up off my eyelid. Shit. This was way weirder than on my camshow. I was unsure if I would actually be able to even fake an orgasm. I tried to fantasize about the imaginary girl.
“It would be very gentle at first.”
I glanced sideways. Jonah was looking at my vagina, and I was sure he could hear the squelch as I pulled the dildo in and out. I looked away quickly, down at my own hands moving over my body. No, that was worse. I felt a pressure in my chest. Suffocation. I twitched my face in an effort to save my eyelash and turned my body more toward the camera. I stared directly into the lens, letting my eyes unfocus and trying desperately to make my actions feel good.
“She wants it so bad. So bad.”
There were streaks of wet on the dildo. I hoped it didn’t gross the guys out. God, this was so weird. I glanced over at them. Ian had moved closer, leaning forward, his breath soft. Riveted. I noticed Jonah’s boner pressing against the front of his jeans. He was hanging back, arms crossed, face red. Ian’s mouth opened just a little, as I let out a gasp of my own. Jonah tugged at his pants. I looked into his eyes and held his gaze, realizing how badly he wanted me. He leaned forward more, trying to slow his breath so as to not step on my audio. The camera was a boundary he couldn’t cross.
“I’d feel her tight and wet around my fingers…”
Power. I had power! This was a performance, but the power was real. A
ll of a sudden, it felt good. I didn’t have to pretend. The fantasy I had been narrating slipped away and I began to focus intensely, trying to turn on Jonah and Ian as much as I could. An electric current shook my spine. My pulse raced. I let out a moan. Ian let out a sigh. I arched my back and watched as Jonah and Ian’s eyes followed my breasts as my chest heaved upward. If I stayed on their eyes, everything was okay.
When I came, it was real.
After the shoot, Jonah and I helped Ian load the lights and camera back into his car. The hotel bar downstairs was swollen with a wedding party, which spilled out into the street. They laughed and smoked cigarettes, passing their iPhones to the bellhop for pictures. Despite the noise, the night air was still and cold. I felt refreshed.
Jonah seemed anxious, his eyes moving quickly over the dressed-up people.
“Do you guys want to get some drinks or something?” Ian asked, slamming his trunk.
“Yeah, that sounds cool.” Jonah had his hands wedged deep in his pockets. He turned to me.
“Sure, yeah,” I responded. “Why don’t you take the camera back to the office though, first. We’ll meet you after.”
Ian nodded, laughed a bit. “Probably not a good idea to leave it in the car, yeah.” He nodded at us as he walked around the side of his car. “Where should I meet you?”
“The Basement. We’ll walk over,” I called to him as he slammed the door and started the car. Jonah and I took a few steps back toward the hotel, clearing room for him to leave.
At the corner of the street, his car took a left. I grabbed Jonah’s hand, and pulled him back toward the hotel. He followed me wordlessly through the large wooden doors and up the carpeted staircase, past the grand chandelier. I stepped quickly ahead to our room, sliding the key into the lock.
“We don’t have to check out yet, you know.” I opened the door and led him to the bed.
He moved forward, eager and surprised.
“Don’t you want me, Jonah?”
He nodded.
“How much?”
“You’re so beautiful.”
I crawled across the covers, mimicking the sultry look I had given the camera.
“Come on, then.”
Jonah kicked off his lace-up shoes and walked toward the bed quickly. He had no choice. He fucked me, holding me from behind.
“God. You’re perfect,” he sighed into my hair.
I eyed the wall opposite and smiled.
Yes, Jonah. Yes, I was.
Dance, Dance, Dance
Model: TheOnlyUna
Status: Online
Room Topic: Pick a song: 15 tokens, spanks: 30 tokens, buy my Snapchat: 500 tokens
High Tipper: OdinWarrior 3000 tokens
Countdown: 0 tokens until CUMSHOW!
Okay, I’m back!” I carefully positioned myself in front of my camera. “Who’s going to pick my toy?
I was naked and riding high on compliments and tokens. OdinWarrior had shown up early on in the night and continued to drop big tips.
Demon9: The same gentleman, I believe, with 500 tokens.
DustydAn: wowwwwwwww
“OdinWarrior, thank you! So much. What toy do you want?” I kept my voice level, my words even. I held up my purple vibrator to the camera. “This purple one?” I reached for the clear glass dildo that I had used in my video: it was curved and cool to the touch. “This clear one? Or…” I searched for the small metal one. “This one?” I held it up, dangling it on the silver chain it came with.
Kaptorkane: got anything bigger?
Demon9: I’d say that crystal one looks interesting…
“OdinWarrior?” The messages slowed as viewers waited for his response.
OdinWarrior tipped 500 tokens: the metal vibe
This guy had money. Awesome.
“Okay, time to goooooo!” I held up the vibrator, then lay back on the dozens of throw pillows collected against my headboard. My vagina was front and center, facing the camera. I could no longer read the messages on my computer screen. They were too far away, and anyway, my eyes were beginning to blur. I could hear the dings, though. The endless ding, ding, ding of tips pouring in.
“I can’t read your messages,” I giggled, pulling myself back into a seated position and turning on the vibrator. “But I can still hear you tipping. And it’s hot!”
I lay back and pressed the vibrator against me. The metal was cold, sterile. I was briefly reminded of the speculum in my doctor’s office.
“Keep ’em coming!” I called out, careful to make my voice breathless and soft.
I let out a sigh. The tips sounds increased. I sighed again, louder. More tips. I tried a groan. More tips. Okay, I could do this. I moaned, and lifted my hips up against the vibrator. The dings of tips and messages increased. I held the picture in my mind of Jonah’s boner and Ian’s quick breathing. Yeah, they both wanted me so bad. All these guys have boners for you. The ding of tips increased with my heart rate. I glanced at the chat room, a blurry mess of gifs and emojis and yellow tip notifications.
All these guys are touching themselves to you. They can’t help it. You’re making them cum.
I felt myself get turned on. I pressed the vibrator hard against myself and squeezed my thighs around it, tensing every muscle in my body in quick succession.
“I can’t…read…” I explained breathlessly, “feels…too…good.” I fell against the pillows again, letting my hips relax. I sucked in a mouthful of air.
I wrenched my body onto my right side as I came. Then I fell still, letting everything relax. After a moment I sat up and crawled over to the front of my bed and sat, messy-haired and bleary-eyed.
Whiskey_Root: GODDAMN THAT WAS HOT
1NerdyGuy: Feral, feral orgasm
Well. That worked. “Thank you.” I took a small bow, leaning into the dizziness making my head spin.
Demon9: Aw, is our Una cum drunk?
I smiled. Yes. Cum drunk, that was a good term. I glanced at my token counter: over 1,800 tokens in four minutes. Ninety bucks.
×××
I cammed every night that week, and every night the next. Around seven, I converted my normal bedroom into a camming palace. I closed my blackout curtains, spread a soft, cream-colored duvet over my much-loved orange one, and brought out my plastic bin of props. I always set a tip goal to get naked, and I always hit it. I inched my goal higher and higher each time: one night taking off my bra cost 3,000 tokens, the next night, it was 3,100 tokens. Masturbating was always expensive, and the more excited I got for the money, the more excited viewers believed I was for the orgasm.
Demon9: We must be close to the cumshow, Una’s bouncing again.
MarioLuis: don’t mind me some bouncing 0.o
“Guys! I’m setting a high countdown because I have high goals. Let’s crush it! I want to come!”
It had only taken a few shows to get over any discomfort I felt. As long as I didn’t think too much about it, masturbating on cam had become fun. Well, not fun, exactly. But not un-fun, either. It was just something I did. I enjoyed the rush of tips and messages that seemed to always match the uptick in my supposed excitement. The more I moaned, the more I made, and the tip sound became tied to my sexual arousal, like some kind of X-rated version of Pavlov’s experiment. And the thought of hundreds of guys jerking off to my naked, writhing body? Not too awful. I begged my room to post porn gifs that I could focus my eyes on. My orgasms were loud and visceral, and guys went crazy for them. They weren’t the dignified moans and giggles I had imagined doing when I first thought of camming. They were real. Well, exaggerated versions of something real.
I began to suss out quickly how much money was in my room on any given night, and I could manipulate my counts to match. An emptier, quieter room? Lower tip amounts. A fuller, engaged room? Higher. I also began to figure out the different t
ypes of guys in my room. Some left if I masturbated, others showed up only when I was about to start. Some liked when I talked too fast. Others thought it was annoying. As the weeks progressed, I began to collect a group of regulars.
There was OdinWarrior. He was my “whale,” which is the industry-standard term for a performer’s largest tipper, and, I learned, necessary to a performer’s success. Whales have a special status on the site. Since 90 percent of a camgirl’s tips come from about 10 percent of her viewership, other viewers make it their business to keep the whale happy and tipping. If the whale is happy, the camgirl is happy, and a happy camgirl is a fun camgirl for all her viewers. Despite the fact that on my first night over three hundred people watched my show, only about twenty actually tipped. And even then, most of those tips came from OdinWarrior.
By the end of my first week of camming, OdinWarrior had established himself as my room’s de facto leader. He respected Demon9 as my go-to for camming advice, but he made sure everyone knew he was my special favorite. As soon as he found my room, he was quick to establish himself as my biggest tipper, and he touted his dominance over other men in the form of tokens. Whenever anyone tipped, he tipped more.
The Friday of my second week, he asked me to do a private. He “just wanted to talk” and insisted he pay by the minute for a chat room with just us. I announced loudly to the room that I was sorry, I didn’t do privates. I wasn’t being totally honest. I knew from my research that girls who made privates a privilege made the most money off of them. In addition to charging per minute (which the site did automatically), they could reserve access to privates as a special gift for high tippers, or as a commodity they had to purchase up front: $500 plus another $6 per minute. I had to make sure my privates felt exclusive.
I opened a private message window. I didn’t know much about Odin. I knew he was a veteran with an affinity for motorcycles. I knew Odin liked to feel important. He wanted to be special.
Private Message from TheOnlyUna: Hey, my policy is not to take privates. But I think I can make an exception for you
Private Message from OdinWarrior: Oh good. I can’t wait for our private time. Una and her Knight ;)