[PI] In the sleazy underbelly of Hollywood, the line between "agent" and "pimp" is often blurry. Chapter 5. (15k words, tags: MF, M+F, F cheating, transactional)

Continued from Chapters 3-4.

Chapter 5

The site was called MyPeekCams: Turn Your Inner Slut Into Cash. Nick's recommendation had gotten her an interview with the owner of the site, who was open to setting her up in one of the Premium rooms that they had, but, frankly, usually rented out to hot, young, 18-year-olds and not 30-something, married women. Over time, a surprising number of the top accounts would be 30-something and even 40-something women, but at the time, this flew in the face of conventional wisdom.

Best of all, Diane wouldn't be taking a cut of her online earnings, because they were tips. But Lucy laughed when Diane asked her about her interview/audition - it turned out that Diane was an investor in the site: Lucy wouldn't need a pimp any more, but she'd have an e-pimp. The owner, Daniel, didn't try to bullshit Lucy about the money involved - the median earner pulled in less than $10/month, but the top earners were well into the thousands. Lucy exhaled sharply, pulling out a thick portfolio of headshots and other photos that she had accumulated over the years, and setting it in front of Daniel. The glossy prints shimmered under the fluorescent lights, and in many respects, it felt more like her first interviews.

Like, she might not even have to suck his dick.

Daniel gave her a chance - maybe more so as a favor to his friend and investor, Nick, and Diane, who had Hollywood connections - and Lucy was ushered into a small room. Well, it felt small to her - it was one of the premium rooms, which meant that it was 15'x15' instead of 10'x10'. She'd be able to decorate it if she joined, but for the "audition", it was just about seeing how she interacted with the camera and her fans.

Marcus, the bouncer, security guard, production assistant, and key grip, all rolled into one, showed her the room full of toys and outfits. They weren't free, but they'd advance them to Lucy in return for future earnings. Lucy selected a schoolgirl skirt and thigh high stockings, plus a normal, 7" dildo, and she got a crash course in how to run the software - how to chat, how to move the PTZ cameras, how to upload a script onto the teleprompter, and how the tipping system worked. Marcus pointed towards the red "-6000" in the corner. Currently, not only did Lucy not have any money, but she owed MyPeekCams about $60 for the skirt, stockings, and dildo. Lucy was actually kind of glad that she opted to just wear her own blouse rather than get one from the store.

Lucy's fingers trembled as she clicked the button to go live. Neon green lights sprung to life all over the room, but the cameras just stared at her, indifferent, waiting to see what she would do. A few usernames began trickling into the sidebar - Hot4U69, LoneWolf77, CumHungry23 - but the little bloops that indicated someone joined the channel would pick up as Lucy's face began populating ads on feeds across the site.

She began greeting each user the way she'd practiced in front of the bathroom mirror earlier, acknowledging their presence and lightly touching her exposed skin as she asked them what they were there to see. She even got her first tip - 10 coins, about 10 cents - from DeeeeeeezNUTZx, even before her fingertips began tracing the lace edge of her panties under her skirt. The fabric was warm under her touch, already damp.

Chat began picking up, as well. Holy shit. Take them off already. fkn tease?? Lucy swallowed, her throat dry. She hadn't expected the intensity of it - how many people were clamoring for her attention, how many people thought they were God's gift to women. Her other hand drifted up, almost on its own, to cup her breast through the thin cotton of her tank top.

That's when the tips started rolling in. 20 to see those tits. 50 if u moan my name. Lucy complied with every request - a rookie mistake, but it did help build the subscriber base. It was just kind of a waste of time, in terms of raw profitability. Lucy hesitated only a second before unbuttoning her blouse and opening it. The chat went wild, a frenzy of dollar signs and exclamation points, and the tips began rolling in as well. 20 here, 50 there. Lucy thanked every single donor, even though, literally, some were tipping her cents. The attention was intoxicating.

Her fingers dipped beneath the waistband of her panties, her breath hitching as she broadcasted herself for the first time, for a faceless swarm of pixels and usernames. The first moan slipped out before she could stop it, high and shaky, and the chat erupted.

She pressed deeper, her fingers curling in a way that made her thighs tense. The sensation was familiar, but the context turned it into something else entirely. Lucy closed her eyes, but every gasp, every shudder was met with a fresh wave of dinging tips, the amounts flashing like a slot machine payout, which she ignored. In turn, that made it all the hotter for the viewers, who tipped more. For a wild second, she even wondered if I were somehow watching - if I had a secret account, if I had been fed a pop-up with her face on it, her body splayed open like a menu. The thought sent a jolt through her, half-guilt, half-thrill, and she bit her lip to stifle another sound.

When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see the number at the corner of her screen. -4320. In just a few minutes, she had earned $17. She could also see Daniel and Marcus chatting in the corridor, nodding their approval as they watched her catapult into the top 10% of viewers. Then, Lucy saw something even more surprising - Diane was in the corridor, too, helping decide on Lucy's future with two people she had just met.

For the time being, Lucy thought about the present. Lucy brought the dildo into frame - thick, veined, and glistening with a thin sheen of lube that she had pre-applied to it. The chat lost its collective mind.

Lucy hesitated, her fingers prying her folds apart, and teasing herself with the silicone cock. The tease is what the men longed for, she understood, and she rubbed herself up and down while promising she'd fuck herself when she got to 5,000 coins. "I want to fuck myself so badly," Lucy begged, "Just 1,000 more ... just 800 more ... just 600 more."

Finally, she had accumulated 5000 coins, and she plunged the dildo into her cunt, the wet sound obscenely audible to the microphones. The first push of the tip scraping her insides made her whimper. It was cold; she'd forgotten to warm it up. The chat was a frenzy of emojis and demands, but she barely registered them now, her focus narrowing to the slow, deliberate push as she took the length inside herself. She rolled her hips experimentally, to give the camera a better angle. It didn't feel as good, but it looked better, and that's what the cameras wanted.

Her fingers found her clit again, and she pressed down hard, her other hand guiding the dildo deeper. The angle was awkward at first, her wrist cramping, but then, all of a sudden, she was there. A sharp, sweet burst of pleasure radiated outward, and her thighs trembled. The orgasm hit her like a train, sudden and all-consuming. Her back arched off the bed, her toes curling into the sheets as wave after wave rolled through her, her hips stuttering against her own hand. The sounds she made were raw, unfiltered - nothing like the practiced moans she'd tried earlier. The chat exploded, tips flooding in faster than she could process, but she barely noticed, her body still pulsing with aftershocks.

It was too quick. She had forgotten to stretch it out. She had a whole fucking hour to fill, and she had blown her load in the first 20 minutes. Still, it wasn't for naught - the numerical counter was suddenly green, +140. A bunch of faceless strangers had just paid $44 to watch her masturbate.

For a long moment, she just lay there, breathing hard, the dildo still inside her. She typed out copious thank you messages to everyone who had tipped, while she lay there in a puddle of sweat and sex. Lucy knew she should feel guilty. It was one thing to be discreetly sleeping around, it was a whole other thing to be broadcasting it to the world. She pulled the dildo out with a soft, wet sound, her body clenching around nothing.

Lucy stared at the screen, her image on the video monitors - flushed cheeks, tangled hair, lips swollen from biting them. A stranger looked back at her.

And then, an actual stranger looked at her. A man entered her room - a naked man. The man's cock was thick, flushed pink at the tip, and already glistening with pre-cum as it bobbed into the room. She hadn't given him permission to come in, hadn't agreed to do anything, but there he was, his hand stroking his shaft and asking her a simple question.

"Wanna play?" he asked.

Lucy looked down at the mess that was her cunt, her deliciously greedy cunt, and she couldn't help but reply, "Yes."

The man sat down next to her, his hand splayed possessively across her hip, stroking her skin with a practiced ease that sent another jolt through her. The chat went berserk. Lucy wanted to say something - maybe even ask him his name - but it just seemed so ... ordinary. So normal. The words dissolved on her tongue, and were replaced by a simple request.

"Can I suck it?"

Her touch was just as electric to him as his was to hers, rough in a way that demanded his attention, but easy and relaxed. The man leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. "They promised me half of your tips," he murmured, low enough that the mic wouldn't catch it. Lucy almost frowned. She almost stormed out to demand answers, to demand how dare they give away her tips without her consent.

But, then, she decided sucking cock was its own reward, especially one as remarkable as his was. The chat was a blur of dollar signs and demands, the money counter skyrocketing, but Lucy's mind was focused, and fingers were relentless. His cock lay heavy on her tongue, and she began sliding her mouth back and forth across the shaft, licking it performatively. His grip tightened, and Lucy took the cue to wrap her lips around his cock, letting him slide into her. The man took the liberty of grabbing the remote, aiming the PTZ camera at her ruby red lips, catching the slickness of his skin as it oscillated in and out of Lucy's mouth.

Lucy was almost disappointed when the man took a step back, his cock sliding out of her mouth but still bobbing lewdly in the air. He hauled her to her feet and spun her around, laughing when he realized that Lucy still had the dildo inside of her, she had been holding it in the whole time she was sucking his dick. He ripped it out of her, and pushed her forward to bend her over. Lucy was disoriented at first, but she saw a metal rod that had been mounted to the wall, and suddenly she realized what it was - a handle bar. She leaned forward and grabbed onto it, and in doing so, aligned her body perfectly with a camera that captured her from the side, as well as a camera that was aimed at her face, capturing every expression.

She didn't have any time to think. The man's cock was suddenly there, pressing against her entrance, blunt and insistent. Lucy's breath stuttered. Oh, God, she thought. Is he wearing a condom? But then he pushed inside, and his thickness dragged against her walls in a way that made her toes curl, and she didn't care any more. The chat was a hurricane of emojis and tips, and Lucy didn't even care about that, either. All she could focus on was the fullness, the way her body yielded to him like it had been waiting for this all along.

The tip notifications grew in frequency and in size. Instead of cents, they were tipping dollars - and even more. 500 from DaddyDave92, 1,000 from ThirstyTom420. But Lucy didn't even both saying thank you. She gasped every time the stranger behind her snapped his hips forward, driving deeper. She was so wet she couldn't even tell whether his skin was rubbing hers. He withdrew almost completely before slamming back in, the force of it jolting her forward on her hands.

"F-fuck," she managed, her voice cracking as the man's hands grabbed her hair, yanking it into two separate pigtails, like he was riding a chariot.

"What?" the man asked, unsure whether she was expressing pleasure or pain.

"F-fuck. Fuck ... meee ..." groaned Lucy. The camera caught every twitch of her face, every flutter of her lashes, and the chat lost its mind.

"Good girl," he murmured, the praise dripping like honey down her spine. The assault of his cock pistoning into her, combined with him pulling her head back with every stroke, left her trembling, her thighs slick with her own arousal dribbling out of her well-fucked cunt and running down her leg. The stranger's cock was angled just right, hitting that spot inside her that made her see stars. The chat was a hurricane of suggestions on what to do, but Lucy's body moved on instinct, meeting him thrust for thrust. Lucy felt a dam inside her burst. An orgasm crashed over her with brutal force, her back arching as she cried out, her inner muscles fluttering around him in erratic pulses.

The man didn't stop - if anything, he fucked her even harder, pulling her head back and exposing her throat as he chased his own release. Then his rhythm stuttered and he drove deep, his hips flush against her ass as he came with a grunt that vibrated through her bones. The heat of the liquid that he poured into her - his milky-white seed, unprotected - sent another shockwave through her, her body responding even as her mind reeled.

The thought should have horrified her. Instead, her thighs squeezed around him instinctively, milking every last pulse as if her body had decided this was exactly where she belonged. He handed Lucy the keyboard, letting her type out acknowledgements and thank yous, as his cock slowly softened inside of her. He also grabbed a keyboard, resting it on Lucy's back as he typed things into his own channel.

Even him pulling out his cock was a public event. He grabbed the handheld camera and caught the moment he pulled out, with a slick sound and a rush of unabsorbed cum running out of her. He followed the trail of semen down her legs, his fingers dragging through the mess between her thighs before holding them up to the camera. It was glistening, undeniable proof of one of the most successful live streams that the site ever had - much less from a newcomer.

And just like that, her first hour was up. The man waddled out of the room, and Lucy was alone again, giving some curt goodbyes as the neon green lights of the cameras went dark, and the video monitors went to black. The only residual evidence of his presence was the sticky warmth trickling down her inner thigh ... and +50,000 coins in her account. $432, after she cashed out.

She'd try to do better in future weeks.

Epilogue

Lucy was caught, not because I suspected something and went through her phone, nor because she had misplaced a condom full of someone else's cum, nor because one of our friends subscribed to her OnlyFans, but because someone recognized her ... as a legitimate, bona fide actress.

Twenty four years before she accidentally detonated a nuclear bomb hiding under Lucy's marriage, Samantha had been a production assistant on Jason Matthews' untitled project, code named "Reciprocity", a cross between Doogie Howser and Law & Order. Even though the show never really got taken seriously by the studio, the producers had put some real hours into it. They had a legal team clearing the legal rights to the show, and a skeleton crew mocking up some sets in case they shot a pilot. And although Jason was tasked with finding the star of the show - rumors were that Gwenyth Paltrow was in the running - there was a small army of PAs assigned to sift through all the various headshots and audition tapes that came in from unknowns and wannabes looking for their big break.

Samantha remembered Lucy - Lucy's audition tape had been filed with the "MAYBE" pile, the highest honor the PAs could afford, and according to Jason's schedule, he took a meeting with Lucy, which set her above all the other maybes. When they were asked to wrap it up and pack it up, Samantha had done Lucy the favor of putting Lucy's file in the box last - so that it'd be on top, should anyone want to look through the box in the future.

The show never rematerialized from development hell, but even after two and a half decades, Samantha remembered Lucy's face. When she saw her walking along a Malibu beach with a man, she wondered what had happened to Lucy's career, and IMDB'd Lucy. Lucy's page came up more or less empty, and Samantha wondered if Lucy ended up marrying someone who negated her need for a career, which was rather common for aspiring actresses at the time. A search revealed our wedding announcement on the courtroom website. Lucy had kept a tight lid on her socials, for obvious reasons, but mine were wide open, so Samantha wrote to me, telling me that she remembered Lucy's audition tape, and apologizing for not saying something in person when she saw us on the beach.

The only problem? I was in New York, for a business trip. But, I played it cool. When I got home, I pried, and the lies weren't difficult to unravel. I quickly found out that Lucy worked less than 10 hours a week at the yoga studio - instead, she spent most of her time at "personalized training lessons" at mens' homes. She had outfits stashed in her car - lingerie I'd never seen, ridiculously sexualized outfits, including a pair of yoga pants with the crotch cut out. And stashed with the outfits was 43 condoms of different sizes and shapes - plus $2,500 that she hadn't yet deposited into her secret bank account. Facial recognition quickly identified her as RightyTightyLeftyLucy, a prolific cam star. And then, there was a convention badge for "Eliana Luz" - which I instantly recognized from Lucy's tales of woe. Last month, when she said she was driving up to the Bay Area for some kind of yoga convention, she was actually attending a tech conference - as some tech bro's +1.

Perhaps, in the end, Lucy was an actress after all. For 16 years, she played the role of a loving girlfriend, a faithful wife, a devoted mother.

But she was a literal whore all along.