Page 8 of Knot My Only Fan

Also inside is another sex toy. The one Ella gave to Sienna for when she’s brave enough to try taking a knot again. A real alpha sized dildo.

Sienna promised she was never taking a knot again—definitely not an alpha sized one—she also promised me this dildo is brand new.

I smile at what Sienna said as she handed it to me. “Make sure you play with yourself enough to have a river of slick running out of your pussy. That’s the only way you’ll take it, and if you do, you’re definitely an omega.”

There’s an enormous lump in my throat as I pull out the purple ten-inch monster. Holding it in my hand as my middle finger and thumb wrap around the girth.

They don’t join. I laugh to myself. I suspect this dildo was Ella’s attempt at a joke.

There’s a large mass that is just above the base of the dildo, about a third of the way up, but it increases the width of the penis. I can only just circumvent it when I put both hands around it—index finger to index finger, thumb to thumb.

My body is heating, and my fingers play with the hem of my panties. After I’ve cleaned the dildo, I pull the fabric of my panties to the side and I press the tip inside me, feeling the wetness that is pooling. But as wet as I am, will the toy fit inside me?

A chime rings out in the background, stopping that temptation.

A client is calling.

I turn off my e-reader and push my mask over my face and fix it over my long red-haired wig.

After checking myself a final time in the mirror, using the remote in my hand, I press to turn on the camera, which is on my dresser. My eyes glance to my right to see which client is waiting.

My smile disappears quickly because it isn’t Henry.

I have to remember, I have more than one client. And one client alone isn’t going to help me buy my dream café.

I press answer and say with the brightest voice I can muster, “Hello Mac, how are you?”

“You look good tonight, babe...” He pauses for too long and I know he is staring at me a little longer than normal. “Are you sure you don’t want a sugar daddy? You know I can give you the life you want.”

It’s not the first time that he or another of my clients has offered more than what I can give in return.

I give him a brighter smile than normal. “You don’t know what life I want.”

“I can give you anything.” His voice has an edge that some clients have, one I try to work with to make them want more. Make them pay more. I don’t mean in a sugar daddy way, though.

I can’t see him, but his silence makes me think he is scanning his eyes over my body. He confirms it when his gravelly voice says, “God, you look hot tonight. What are you wearing underneath the dress?”

I smile. All talk of being looked after as his sugar baby quickly disappears as he watches my hands lower my dress and show him the underwear I wear.

I’m not paid by the minute. Mac is a level three subscriber. And that means I don’t go any further than giving him a flash of my body and a lot of dirty talk. It also means the quicker I get him off the call, the sooner he might leave a tip and let me get onto my next client.

For twenty dollars a month, a level one subscriber gets all my raunchy online pictures, some boob and ass pictures, videos come with level two, but nothing between the thighs though. I want to upsell a subscriber to level four for that. Level three subscribers get a flash of my body and online chatting, which can be me helping to make them come. Tier four is where I want more subscribers. I give much more, but in return it gets me much more, and costs one hundred dollars a month.

I stroke my hands down the curve of my waist and to my hips. “What would you do to me if I was your sugar baby, Mac?”

“Everything...” His voice stammers. But just like most men who subscribe, I never see his face. I assume they hide themselves, making sure I don’t record and blackmail them. “I want to drive my cock into you and make you scream.”

I moan along with him, making it seem like it’s a real possibility. Because I have no room to hate men like this. Men who pay for this service. Men who are paying me enough money to buy my dream.

I don’t care about my omega awakening. That I’m taking risks being on the website at this time.

But I do care about getting that café.

In a few weeks’ time, I’ll go through my heat and then have the implant which will tell my body I’m a beta again and then make a real effort to find the money I need.

My friends are all finding the men of their dreams, but I’m not bitter. I like being on the BetaFans app. I don’t need a man... or an alpha.

“Finger yourself, baby. Let me see your pussy as I hear how much you come,” he says, which for this level is out of bounds.

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