I tilted my head and gave the camera a sweet smile. “You guys made me work for it tonight.”
dangerboi5: show ur dick
tops465: cut?
mrbigz: I came twice!
SuZaNnA: I missed the show???
694ever: ass plz
jonesey444: show feet
“It’s pillow talk time, Danger. If you want to see my dick, you gotta tip.” I winked at the camera and put my chin on my folded hands, making sure to pop my ass up so my viewers could see it.
dangerboi5 sent you a tip!
“Thank you, Danger.” I got up on my knees and tugged on my soft dick a few times, moving my hips so I showed my best angles. “And you did miss the show, Suzanna. Hopefully, you can make it next time.”
jocks4jocks: y u let women in your room???
“Because my channel is for everyone.” This happened every show without fail. “If you look at my bio, you’ll see I’m bi. And you’ll also see I don’t put up with gender-bashing.”
jocks4jocks: bi means ur ashamed 2b gay
I flopped back down onto my belly and moved my cursor over Jocks’ name. “Nope. I’m not gay or ashamed of anything. I’m bi. We exist.” I winked and kicked him out of my room with a few clicks on my touchpad.
One of the site’s features was it showed users’ tip history by displaying their names in different colors that corresponded to a tip range. Jocks’ name was gray, which meant he’d never tipped anyone or even bought tokens. Lurkers didn’t get the same kind of chances potential tippers did.
“Are you ready for the unboxing I promised?”
The chat filled with affirmations. Smiling, I sat up and scooped up the box and pair of scissors I’d tucked under my bed. I’d already ripped off the shipping stickers so all they could see was it was from Amazon.
“A few things are missing from my wishlist. I wonder what’s in here?”
Like most cam models, I had a wishlist viewers could buy stuff off as a way to support me. Most of the items on the list were things I used to make content, like toys or sexy outfits and costumes. I had a few practical things on there, like hoodies and gift cards. Hardly anyone bought those.
“Let’s see what I got today.”
Carefully I sliced open the packing tape and set the scissors aside.
“Looks like more than one thing.” I peeked inside and pulled out the packing slip to see who the package was from. “No name. Well, thank you to whoever sent this.”
SuZaNnA: whats inside?
jayjay: what did you get?
ALPHA22: SHOW ASS
“No need to yell, Alpha.”
ALPHA22: ASS
“Last warning.” I gave the camera a pointed look. “Rule number six is no sticky keys or caps lock.”
Alpha’s name was displayed in red, which showed he was in the lower range of tippers. But he tipped, so he got a warning.
ALPHA22: ASS NOW
“Not how my room works.” I booted him out and sighed dramatically. “Now that that’s over, who wants to see what I got?”
Knowing they’d say yes, I pulled out a pair of sheer white boy shorts.
gymbro97: r those gonna fit?
fitguy07: Hot!
sweetsuzy: put them on!
Bballer: show feet!
“They’ll fit.” I tugged on the waistband to show how stretchy they were. “I think these would look hot in a shower shoot. Can you picture it? These all wet as I jerked off through them? I bet the material would feel really good against my dick.”
urdadsabottom: holy fuk
694eva: do it!!!!
Rawdawg20: wanna see it now
9incher: do a shower show tomorrow!
“Maybe soon. Want to see what else is in here?” Not waiting for answers, I pulled out a box with a purple tentacle on the front of the package.
SuZaNnA: is that a dildo?
toppyt1m: Bailey making tentacle porn = new kink unlocked!
mrbigz: why is that so hot?
“I probably should have taken a closer look at the dimensions.” Chuckling, I peeled off the safety sticker and opened the box flap. “This thing is girthy.”
I’d added the toy to my wish list one night as a test. I’d noticed an influx of content where models were using toys that wouldn’t be out of place in tentacle porn. I’d chosen this one because the tiny bumps and ridges that made up the suckers would probably feel good, but also because it was insanely expensive.
I’d had a twelve-dollar hoodie on my list for over a year, but someone had bought a two-hundred-dollar tentacle dick less than twenty-four hours after I’d put it on my list.
“I think something this special deserves to be treated as such.” I held the dildo up to the camera and showed off the details. “If you want to see me use it, all you have to do is buy a custom video at option five. Links are in my bio.”
dicks4life: why we gotta pay?
spank_n_wank: use it now!
daddy4u: go private?
“Sorry, Daddy, I don’t do private shows during scheduled times. You can DM me to book one if you’d like.”
toppyt1m: id fuck you better than that ever could
dangerboi5: my cock is bigger!
I tucked the toy away and dropped it back into the shipping box. Hopefully, no one bought a video. The base of the toy was thick, about the same size as the bottom of a soda can, and thinned until the tip, which was the same width as my finger. I could probably take half of it, but it would be a struggle, even with the cleverly designed ridges and curves. Option five was my highest tier for custom videos, and not many people were willing to pay twenty bucks a minute for porn, even if it was custom.
“I gotta get going. Next show is tomorrow, and I’m thinking it’ll be something different.”
I already had the next month of shows planned, but viewers loved feeling like they were part of my decision-making process, so I always pretended my ideas were spur of the moment.
“What do you think I should do?”
A wall of chats filled the screen as people tossed out suggestions.
“My Hush is a possibility,” I said when several people suggested I use my interactive butt plug. “Maybe I’ll pair it with a game.”
The chat lit up again, and most people seemed in favor of the idea.
“Thanks for hanging out with me tonight. I’ll be back online tomorrow at eight Eastern Time. Be sure to check out my Twitter for updates and subscribe here so you can get the alerts.” I blew the camera a kiss. “Hope you have a nice, relaxing night.”
A wall of good-byes appeared in the chat. I waited a few seconds, shut the show down, and checked my tip balance. The show had given me a nice little bump, but the off-line tip from NotEast5 confused me.
Every week they sent me the same tip, which was equivalent to one hundred dollars. When I was on cam, I kept an eye out for their handle, but they never seemed to be online when I was.
This had been going on for six months. I appreciated the tips, but the mystery surrounding the situation was annoying. Not being able to solve it bothered me. I knew I should let it go and focus on the tips and not on the motivation behind them, but my brain didn’t work like that.
Heaving a big sigh, I moved through my room, putting away my gear as I tried not to think about all the stuff that was always right there in the back of my mind.
When my room was clean, I darted into the tiny bathroom across from my attic bedroom and turned on the shower so I could clean up.
Distracted, I soaped up my torso and scrubbed away the dried cum as I went through my mental to-do list.
The hot water cooled rapidly, and I rinsed off, hoping to beat the clock before it ran out.
That was unusual. The hot water had been temperamental the past few weeks but had never gone cold this fast. I grabbed the faucet as a blast of ice-cold water hit me, the spray like needles as it peppered my skin. Yelping, I wrenched it off.
“What the hell?” I panted as I stared at the showerhead. That shouldn’t have happened. I’d only been in the shower for a few minutes.
The water pressure had been normal, which meant no one else was currently using the shower. What was going on?
Shivering, I wrapped a towel around my waist, then another around my shoulders.
The chilly February air prickled my skin as I hurried into my room. I tugged on the first pair of sweatpants I pulled out of my dresser, then donned a thermal long-sleeved shirt, the warmest hoodie I owned, and shoved my feet into a pair of fuzzy socks.
Living in the attic should have meant my room and bathroom were the warmest part of the house, but whoever had finished the attic hadn’t splurged for quality insulation, and the entire floor was always cold, especially now that it was winter.
I went to the bathroom and checked the water, letting it run for a few moments and periodically sticking my finger in the downpour. Still freezing cold with no hint of warming up.
“Weird,” I muttered.
Might as well go see if anyone else noticed the loss of hot water.
“Eli!”
I paused at the bottom of the stairs that opened into the main living area. Beck and Finn, two of my roommates, stood near the door to the kitchen.
“Hey.” I looked between them.
“Are you going to be around for the next hour or so?” Beck asked.
“Um, yeah.”
“What my tactless boyfriend meant to say was ‘hi, Eli. Did you happen to notice the hot water is out?’” Finn poked Beck in the side, a fond smile on his lips.
“What he said.” Beck grinned.
“I definitely noticed. I was in the shower when it happened.”
“Yikes.” Finn grimaced. “I was washing some dishes, and that was bad enough.”
“Do you know what happened? Is the tank empty?” I asked.
“No clue. But I doubt it’s the tank.” Beck slung his arm over Finn’s shoulders. “I called the emergency line, and they said the property manager would be by in the next hour to check it.”
“And you’re wondering if I’m going to be home to let him in?” I asked.
“Are you? We’re meeting Alex and Kai soon, and I have no idea when Matt is going to be home.”
“Yeah. It’s fine. I’m not going anywhere tonight.”
“Are you sure?” Beck asked. “We can cancel if you have something going on.”
“Nothing going on. Have fun.”
“Can you text us what the manager says?”
“Yeah, definitely.”
“Thanks.” He beamed another big smile at me, then pressed a kiss against Finn’s temple.
Finn melted against him and sighed happily. They walked toward the front door, their heads bent together and speaking quietly. A pang of longing stabbed me deep in the gut.
It wasn’t my roommates’ fault I didn’t have any friends to make plans with on a Friday night.
Ding dong.
The chime of the doorbell echoed through the main room. I slipped my bookmark between the pages of my book, put it on the coffee table, and answered the door.
I’d met the property manager in the summer when I’d taken a tour of the house after being assigned to it. Mr. Culligan was short and portly, with a bushy beard and a shiny bald head.
The man on our doorstep was not Mr. Culligan.
I narrowed my eyes, and a rush of adrenaline shot through me.
Six and a half years might have passed, but I’d recognize Weston Daniels anywhere.
Gone was the sixteen-year-old boy I’d known. He was easily six feet now and still built like a swimmer with a trim waist, thick thighs and arms, and wide shoulders. His features looked the same but different. Same golden-brown eyes, same wavy, dark brown hair. Same full lips and perfect bone structure. Did he still have that little dimple in his cheek when he smiled? They were leaner now, more defined, and the scruff of a day-old beard made him look older than twenty-three.
West’s mouth fell open in surprise.
“Eli?”
His voice had changed. It was deeper with a rich tone to it that hadn’t been there when he was sixteen.
A shimmer of something fluttered in my stomach.
“What do you want?” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at the man who’d disappeared six years ago and left a trail of destruction that had irrevocably changed my brother’s life.
