Page 72 of Masks and Mishaps

Can he see it?I wonder.Can he see his pre-cum?

The answer comes in the form of his fingers revisiting the letters: D-A-D-D-Y.

The moment thickens until all I hear is the hum of warm air passing through the vent in the corner and the pop of the candlewick on Dalton’s nightstand.

“Mask on,” he instructs in a low voice.

It’s the last thing he says before he walks out of the bedroom.

***

Camming is equal parts sales and sex.

The only people I’ve ever streamed with are Valeria and Cora, and they’re pros. Dalton is new, so I assumed I’d have to teach him to use the performer-side of the website and explain the sounds my laptop makes when I reach certain tip thresholds.

Except Dalton knowsall of it.

In the days since we renegotiated our contract and decided to stream together, Dalton took it upon himself to learn everything—and not just the fine art of managing a stream, but also the lines in the carefully plotted script I wrote with Valeria.

I’m seated at the desk he set up for me in the corner, looking over my shoulder where he’s halfway out of the bedroom. He’s dressed in black pants and nothing else—shirtless with his sparse tattoos on display. I can already predict the kinds of messages we’ll get in the chat tonight.

“Horny,” he mutters, pretending he’s not into it—pretending he doesn’t know he’s fine as fuck. He winks and disappears into the dark living room, leaving me to start.

Taking a deep breath, I stare at my masked face in my laptop’s screen. I’m not Essie Romero anymore, but Emerald X—and she’s about to get fucked.

Three. Two. One.

When the livestream starts, Emerald takes a shot of water but she pretends it’s tequila. “I’m having the best day,” I lie. In reality, I spent most of the morning at a networking event where Weston latched onto me like a starfish. Still, I push a smile through. “But I’m ready for a night out.”

For the next ten minutes, I welcome viewers and set the mood—and pretend to get drunker. When I take off my robe and reveal the see-through set Dalton bought for me, the tips start coming in.

OrganGrinder:Heyy hot stuff pour one out for me

CaptainMunch4455:Best nipples in the business

HelloGoodBi:Where’s the guy w the wine bottle for a dick

There’s a clatter in the living room, and I glance back like I’m listening. “Weird,” I murmur. “I thought I heard something.” I face the laptop again. “Anyway, I went on a run today, and—”

The lights flicker once, and I pause again, waiting—like we rehearsed. A moment later, the lights go out entirely, switching my laptop camera to night mode.

“Shit. Let me flip the circuit breaker,” I say. Then I change the camera source from the laptop to the tripod, cross the room, and freeze.

Dalton’s body fills the doorway in a shadowy silhouette. He’s enormous. Hulking. And under the flames from the candles on the nightstand, the most defined parts of him are the vacant and elongated black holes set in the white of his mask.

He’s also wearing leather gloves. His arm muscles flex, tightening to enunciate his pronounced veins, and I do exactly what we planned next.

I run.

Almost immediately, Dalton catches me around my waist and throws me onto his bed even more carelessly than he did on Halloween. I land on my stomach and try to crawl to the opposite side, but he latches his hand around my ankle and hauls me back.

“No,” I protest, clawing at the bedspread. “Please—” But Dalton just tugs harder.

When I’m close, he flips me onto my back, and his eerie, masked face stares at me. My heart is throbbing in my chest.How can this feel so real? And judging by the wave of chimes and bells on the laptop, itlooksreal too.

“Miss me?” he asks, and his voice crackles with unforgiving sarcasm.

“Please don’t,” I beg, trying to kick him away. “I’ll be good. I swear.”

---