Page 28 of Music City Diaries

“That’s it. It feels so good. Do you like watching me? Touch yourself for me. I want you to feel good while you watch me.”

I thought about it, my breathing quickening, but I was too shy, afraid he could see me somehow. Instead, I watched, learning from him as he pleasured himself. His breathing quickened, and right before he was getting close, another screen popped up, telling me I needed to purchase more time to see the finish.

My breathing was shaking, and my insides rattled, and somehow it took all my willpower to hit no.

I understood now. It was erotic watching someone, getting a peek into their private life. It felt like I was right there with him. Yet, I wasn’t. It was safe and controlled. And with the pay scheme how it was, it would be easy to make more money in one night than I did all week. If I was poor and was tempted to give up money for a few more glimpses, imagine people who were well fed and horny.

Tapping my fingers on the table, my pizza sat discarded, cold now. Pulling out my phone, I texted my boss for Cathy’s number. I had to stop myself and not use Candi.

Darcie: Hey! I wanted to switch with Cathy. Could I have her number?

Boss: Sure. One sec.

Boss: 555-5883

Darcie: Thanks

Boss: Any chance you want to come in tonight?

I debated, always willing to pick up any shift in the past. But this was my first night off in ages, and I didn’t have it in me to go. Plus, if I decided to do this, I wouldn’t need it. Taking a gamble, I said no for the first time in forever.

Darcie: Sorry, I can’t. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Texting Candi, I sucked in a breath as excitement coursed through me. I was nervous as fuck, but maybe this could be the next step for me to gain control. It would be nice not to have to eat ramen or pizza for every meal.

Darcie: Can you tell me more? I’m interested.

Candi: Yay! Sure thing, girl. Want to come over?

Darcie: Um, yeah, okay.

Candi: Sweet. See you in a few!

She sent her address, and I found myself jumping up to throw clothes on. This was happening; this was really happening.

That night, I listened to Candi tell me the details of being a cam girl and how it worked while we ate the dinner she’d just made with strangers, practically topless.

“So, you get to control what you do?”

“Yep. You can do as little or as much as you want. Show as much or as little as you want. Just no falling in love with the clients or sleeping with them; that’s the one no-no. Kind of like stripping. You can’t do your best if you’re in love and a jealous boyfriend/girlfriend is a mood killer.”

She dipped her fork into the bowl, twirling noodles around it, taking a bite. Candi was the type of carefree I wanted to be. She owned her sexuality and wasn’t ashamed of it. I wanted to be like her.

“So, what do you think, girlie?” she asked, sitting up and looking at me.

“I think I want to try. I might not be any good at it, but it beats cleaning lint out of dryers at 3 am.”

“Yay!” She jumped up, moving to hug me. “This is going to be great.”

I smiled, hoping she was right.

She helped me pick out a look, letting me borrow some of her clothes. Together we created my account and set me up as Rose. It was time for Rosebud to bloom.

Diary #8

Dear Mom,

I’m trying something. I’m not sure if you’d approve or not. We didn’t really get to have these kinds of talks before you died. I like to imagine you’d be open and progressive, telling me to explore and figure out what I want.

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