Camgirl Read online

  150…200…

  Frostytots22: Boots says hi!

  secret _bee: Hey where are you?

  lifter_serious11: Boots said u were good but I can’t see u ?????

  “Hey guys, sorry, I’m really trying…”

  …290…295…300…

  “Maybe if I just…ugh why won’t it work?”

  323…

  No girl started with this many viewers. And none of them could even see me. Who could possibly be good enough to garner this much attention on her first night? 364. I was gonna blow it. 370…

  “Hey, um, I might restart …” I heard my voice crack. Fuck.

  A viewer named Demon9 swooped in, like my knight in shining, well-mannered armor.

  Demon9: Hey guys, while we’re waiting you should all follow Una on twitter! She’s super hot.

  Demon9: Una, if you restart the camera and then click to the left, a box will pop up…

  I clicked. My mouse froze in place for a second. Then, boom, my face appeared on the video feed. I looked flushed, slightly sweaty, and not at all as composed as I had imagined I would be on my (second) world premiere.

  secret _bee: Yay!

  Demon9: Welcome to MFC Miss Una. I’m Demon.

  Rex213: Hihihihihihihhihihihihhi

  1NerdyGuy: The lady appears!

  I pulled my hair back from my eyes and tried to reestablish the veneer of a classy Madame. “Oh my God. It…I mean, hi. Wow.”

  Smooth.

  I stared. Three hundred eighty-two people watching. Three hundred eighty-two people that had just shepherded me through a near catastrophe. I needed to prove that their patience had been worthwhile. I glanced at the alphabet book, lying in wait on the corner of my bed. How do I lead into this? Do I just…start? I sat there, overwhelmed. The room count remained strong, but the room also fell silent. They were expectant and ready, wondering what I could possibly do to warrant early approval from Boots and so many viewers. Then:

  Boom_Boom: Show me your ass. Spin around.

  I was taken aback. “Um, what?”

  Boom_Boom: How am I supposed to know if I want to tip you if I don’t even know what your ass looks like?

  My heart sank. Ah, so guys got to boss you around on this site too. I felt tired all of a sudden and began to turn around.

  1NerdyGuy: Don’t listen to that asshole

  Wild_West: turn back to us.

  1NerdyGuy: Make him tip you FIRST!

  Wild_West: yeah always ask for tips first

  Demon9: You can ban him from your room if you want, I’ll show you how.

  I thought quickly of Queen Molly, spinning her prize wheel the night before. She knew each and every one of her fans individually. They seemed like her friends. They were her friends. And these guys had just spent almost half an hour trying to help me with a software problem. “Yeah. Let’s ban this fucker. Tell me how.” The room flooded with emojis and approval. “So, I can ban whoever I want?”

  Demon9: Yeah, you can ban whoever you want. You can also restrict your show so only people from certain states can see you.

  I say who.

  Demon9: And you can pick when you cam, there’s a little schedule section on your profile but most girls just work when they want.

  I say when.

  Demon9: You can also set a tip menu where you decide what you want to do and how much it costs for you to do it.

  I say how much.

  I ignored my carefully prepared props, lay back, and rumpled my manicured bedsheets. I tossed pillows off the bed, hitting the wall as if I were having a pillow fight with my apartment. I laughed and introduced myself to as many guys in my chat room as possible. I stared into the camera with unbroken eye contact and the cute smirk I had spent years perfecting. What’s your name? Where are you from? What’s your deepest, darkest secret?

  That night, I met postmen, policemen, sound technicians, theologians, nonprofit organizers, data scientists, and school counselors. I met guys my age, I met guys that were sixty-five, and I met a woman too, JuNiPeR. I lay in my bed and I told them all about myself. I wanted a pug, read Scientific American Mind, made candles out of other candles. I had a sis—brother, younger. He fought with me all the time. My mom lived nearby, she was a…hair stylist? Small town.

  Demon9 instructed me on how to set a countdown for tips, and the room gave me advice on what prices to set. They’d tip until they hit the number I’d decided on, and then I’d perform whatever action I’d agreed on. They egged me on to set higher prices, which seemed counterintuitive to their goals but also very kind. “Once we hit the first countdown, I’ll take off my bra!” My room filled with tips and emojis giving me a thumbs-up. The counter ticked down quickly, and then landed at zero.

  Subtract one bra, add one hundred dollars to my bank account.

  I giggled as the room complimented by boobs. I set a countdown to remove my panties. An hour later, we hit it. This time my underwear were on the outside of my garter belt, and I slid them down effortlessly as the room cheered.

  I knelt, head held high. I commanded an audience far larger than I would have at a strip club. Here they were, hundreds of eyeballs glued to my every move. I was Queen Seductress, and I had found my people.

  Once I was fully naked, I realized I needed to set another countdown. Girls got more tips when the room was working toward a communal goal. But what came after being naked? Well, technically, whatever I wanted. I could do a countdown that ended with me popping a balloon or eating some cashews or reading that book about dead children.

  I eyed my row of toys. I glanced at the chat room, peppered with graphic porn gifs and emojis with erections. What the room wanted was a sex show.

  I knew I could decide not to do a sex show. In fact, I knew I didn’t have to be nude if I didn’t want to. But I liked pleasing people, and I wanted to please my new friends.

  I picked up a vibrator. “You guys ready? I’ll set a count!”

  The room exploded with messages, excited at the prospect of taking my camming virginity.

  “We could do a cumshow countdown.” I felt the same rise in my chest I felt straddling a boy.

  “Or, I could read to you guys...story time anyone?” I picked up The Ghastlycrumb Tinies. “This one is super creepy.”

  The messages slowed. Their enthusiasm was waning.

  390…323…271…

  “Just kidding, obviously.”

  Obviously. Give the people what they want. I set a countdown for a sex show: Three thousand tokens, $150. There was no way we’d hit that. Not if I only gave them an hour. “I’ve only got an hour though, because—”

  The screen flashed.

  OdinWarrior tipped 3000 tokens: that should do it.

  Fuck.

  Wild_West: what an entrance

  Demon9: Thank you, Mr. OdinWarrior!

  “Oh wow, thank you! Thank you OdinWarrior! My highest tip of the night!”

  I glanced at my rank. I was jumping places pretty quickly at first as most girls on the site weren’t that active. Odin’s $150 tip had pushed me to #1267.

  “Guys, we’re already almost top one thousand! That’s crazy!”

  Demon9: Fantastic start, Una!

  secret_bee: yay!

  OdinWarrior: So are we doing the cumshow?

  “Oh yeah.” I forced a smile. “Of course.”

  I felt an intense sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I glanced at the vibrator in my hand. Was I really going to masturbate in front of three hundred strangers? Or should I set a limit, and decide to be a nonsexual model? I’d take my clothes off but not do anything else?

  “Okay, Odin.” I smiled into the camera. “Here goes.”

  I leaned back against my pillows and began rubbing my clit mechanically.

  Demon9: Well that escalated quickly />
  1NerdyGuy: hot that you’re not shaved

  I dipped a finger inside myself and let out a sigh. Dry. Shit.

  Okay, well, I could fake it. I’ve faked a million orgasms, after all. The room was oddly quiet for how chatty it had been before. New viewers rushed in, eager to see the sex show. I stared at the camera and tried to look hot. I could feel that I had a double chin in that position. I wondered if my thighs looked fat, splayed open that way. I couldn’t really tell on the video stream. I was fucking it up, wasn’t I? This wasn’t hot at all.

  OdinWarrior tipped 200 tokens: use a vibe

  Saltyseaman: yeah use a toy

  I blinked at the screen, the words small and far away. I picked up the small metal vibrator and turned it on. It buzzed wildly in my hand. “Thanks,” I added. I pushed the vibe against my clit, barely registering that the first time I was ever using a vibrator was on camera in front of over three hundred people. Suddenly, the vibrations hit me. Shit, that felt good. I let out a gasp.

  OdinWarrior: so hot

  secret _bee tipped 10 tokens

  Demon9: She likes it!

  The vibrator was intense. Jesus christ. I tried to look sexily at the camera but let out an involuntary noise instead. Oh wow.

  “Sorry, this is super intense,” I explained to the room, breathlessly.

  1NerdyGuy: Don’t apologize!

  Whiskey___root tipped 50 tokens: woowwww

  Okay, this should be easy, I told myself. You’re using a high-powered vibrator made of metal. Just orgasm. I tried to think of something hot.

  OdinWarrior tipped 20 tokens: turn it up

  Demon9: I like this idea!

  Saltyseaman tipped 15 tokens

  “Okay, thanks, Odin.” I pressed the button to increase the vibrations. It began to hurt. Okay. Come, Isa. Just come. I shut my eyes. No one is watching you. You’re in bed. Alone. You can do this. It feels good, right? Yes. No. It didn’t. I squeezed my eyes and willed every single part of me to orgasm.

  “Oh my God!” I called out, a bit too loud. I began pumping my hips against my hand. “I’m gonna come!” The well-rehearsed line slid from my lips in a practiced gasp.

  “Oh my God!” I repeated again, feeling an actual orgasm taking hold. I let my body double over and rolled onto my side, vibrator pressed between my clit and my hand.

  I came.

  OdinWarrior tipped 200 tokens: beautiful. Thank you

  Demon9: A spectacular welcome to MFC

  bombNo.20: wow, that was raw

  I turned off the vibrator and sat up, flushed. “Oh my gosh, guys. Thank you so much!”

  Blue66Devil: thank *you* so much una

  Wild_West tipped 50 tokens

  Rex213: dammmmmnnnnnnn

  1NerdyGuy: that was…pleasant.

  Demon9: How are you feeling? Cuddle time?

  OdinWarrior tipped 10 tokens

  I glanced at my rank: #1011. Damn. I’d made 8,600 tokens—almost $450.

  “Thanks so much, you guys, I have to run. That was amazing! I’ll see you next time.” I signed off quickly, confused at my embarrassment.

  As I walked into the bathroom to run a bath, I thought about how I felt. Weird, for sure. Gross? Maybe. I wondered about all the men that had watched my show for free. The hundreds who hadn’t tipped but were in the room nonetheless. Did that bother me? I wasn’t sure. I turned on the sink and ran my vibrator under the water to clean it off. I was glad I hadn’t had to fake my orgasm, I decided. That felt like lying. I didn’t want to lie anymore. This was a chance to build a new relationship with sex. I didn’t feel like crying, I realized. That seemed like a victory.

  Good As Hell

  I discovered masturbation as a child the same way most do: by accident. And once I’d figured it out, I did it with a frequency that I found alarming. Afterward, I was overcome with dread and embarrassment. Masturbating seemed gross and dirty, but I wasn’t sure why. I wasn’t raised in a church that told me it was a sin or told by my parents that it was morally wrong. In fact, my mom had told us that touching yourself was normal and healthy. I told her she was disgusting and to shut up or I was going to stop talking to her forever.

  In high school, masturbation became a tool, a tool I again discovered by accident. I was lying in Jonah’s bed. We were seven episodes deep into a Lost binge-fest and Jonah, as per usual, wanted sex.

  I batted his hand away from my waistband.

  “But can’t we just…”

  “Dude. They’re going into the hatch, you gotta pay attention.”

  Jonah sighed and rolled over. It had been weeks since we had done anything.

  “I’m on my period,” I tried explaining. “I don’t want you going down there.”

  “Can you just give me a hand job? At least?”

  I looked into his pleading eyes, small and beady without his thick glasses. “Give yourself a hand job.” I turned back to Lost.

  To my surprise, Jonah unbuttoned his pants and began to jerk off, kissing my shoulder lightly. I stared at the monitor, growing more uncomfortable by the minute. I was kind of turned on, and I hated that. I rolled over.

  “I guess I could touch myself too,” I said.

  Jonah murmured a reply.

  “I don’t mind the blood,” I continued, unbuttoning my jeans.

  And so just like that, mutual masturbation became my go-to. If I couldn’t steel myself for sex or even a hand job, touching myself next to someone was the perfect compromise. They got off, and I only felt half as gross as I normally did.

  The day after my cam premiere, I realized something. Touching myself on cam had been totally fine, but I hadn’t felt hot. It hadn’t even felt comfortable, really. And it had been difficult to get out of my head. I wanted to make sure I felt cool, empowered the next time I did it. I thought about Jonah. Maybe he could be useful. I pulled out my phone.

  Isa: when are you coming to town again?

  Jonah: tuesday, why?

  Isa: I have an idea…

  Jonah: ?

  Isa: have you ever shot porn?

  Shooting a couple porn videos would be the perfect way to get some practice getting off on camera. Plus, they’d be great to sell in my room, offer as prizes, or use as exclusive content for high tippers. Most of the top girls had dozens of videos they offered for sale on their profiles. I figured it was probably a good idea to get some of my own.

  Jonah was the ideal person to direct my porn. I wanted to impress him. This was my chance to show him I was going after my dreams, fully committed. Plus, I knew I could trust his taste. Jonah had made short films and directed commercials and music videos for work, and they looked good. Jonah always loved giving advice and validated himself through other people’s successes when they followed his ideas. I would come to him for help, and he would know what to do. Jonah always knew what he was doing.

  “Well, we’ll need a cinematographer.”

  “Why can’t you just shoot it?”

  “I suck at shooting.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’re just gonna masturbate?”

  “Yes. I need to practice doing it in front of a camera.”

  “You masturbated in front of me all the time.”

  “Yeah. Exactly,” I replied. “In front of you. Not an audience.”

  Jonah sighed.

  A day later, we began prepping for the shoot in the con-ference room at his friend’s production company. Jonah had not only convinced them to let us hole up in their conference room to plan, but also to loan us the same type of RED camera used to shoot The Hobbit and Iron Man. We met with our high school friend Ian, who was currently working as a photographer.

  “It’s just a half day?”

  “Just a half day.” Jonah spun his chair around and then stopped himself with his foot on the edge of th
e table.

  Ian sucked in his cheeks and let out a breath.

  “Where are we shooting again?”

  “The Flatiron. Room is booked already.” I leaned forward across the conference table. “It’s gonna be classy, Ian. Classy.”

  “Do they know we’re shooting porn there?”

  “I told them it’s test footage for a doc we’re making.” Jonah leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands on his belly, a self-satisfied grin plastered his face. I thought about how appalled Lindsay the concierge would be if she found out.

  “I don’t know, guys.” Ian seemed uncomfortable.

  I turned to him. “Ian, I’m offering you eight hundred and fifty dollars for a half day of work. You’ll get to shoot on a Red. It’ll be fun. We offered it to you first because you’re the best cinematographer we know, but—” I glanced at Jonah, “—we know others.”

  Ian turned his phone over and over in his hands. “All right, what the hell. Let’s make some porn.”

  A few minutes later, the three of us drove downtown. We plotted over fifteen-dollar cocktails and a cheese platter. Jonah went to get more drinks and remained at the bar, ordering bourbon and chatting with the pretty bartender.

  Ian sipped his drink. “I still can’t believe you guys talked me into this.”

  I held eye contact, then looked down at his hands. “I can.”

  “Oh?”

  I looked back up at his eyes. “Yeah. You’re not happy.”

  Ian let out a small laugh. “What does that have to do with shooting porn for you guys?”

  I twirled the straw in my ginger ale. “You’re bored and scared of selling out. You’re doing what my dad did.”

  “Right. I forgot your dad’s a director of photography too.”

  “Yep. He wanted to be an artist. He had hopes. Dreams.” I sucked on my straw. “Now he shoots L’Oreal commercials and threatens to throw himself off the roof every other day.”

  “I don’t shoot commercials.”

  “We both know that you do.” I tapped on the table for emphasis. “You’ve got a deep dark hole in your heart and you’re not gonna fill it shooting concerts and bike races. But you already know that.” I leaned back and smiled.