Page 73 of A Thousand Cuts

No answer was forthcoming.

He sighed and pulled the face mask off, starting the motions of getting himself ready for a stream on autopilot.

He had the routine down to perfection by now.

He shaved his entire body, washing and styling his hair dead straight with a tiny coquettish flick at the ends. He applied a thin layer of makeup to his eyes and lips—natural pinks to make his features pop on camera.

His outfit was one he had worked on himself: knee-high white socks tight against his calves with pink bows at the backs, his denim shorts more a suggestion of a belt than pants. The little pink tank top was sheer and sparkly, and he made sure to add a generous helping of body glitter to the rest of his skin to make it glow.

He knew what he looked like. He knew he was attractive. Knew his followers would love it.

And yet all he could think about was Fix and whether he’d like it.

He dimmed the lights in his room completely and set his equipment up just right. Everything was just as it was supposed to be.

Except for him.

He stared at the door to his bedroom, mind tumbling down a hill with no way to stop. He knew if he closed it, Fix wouldn’t come in. He’d sit in Liam’s living room and wait for him patiently, he was completely sure of it. And it would be enough. Knowing Fix was just there on the other side of the flimsy plywood.

But if he left the door open…

He could live out his fantasy in real life. It would be an invitation for Fix to come in, to watch, to see Liam naked and wrapped in desire.

If he left it open, Fix would know that he wanted him.

He walked over and grabbed the doorknob, swinging the door back and forth a little bit, arguing with himself. His countdown pinged the last seconds before he had to start.

He swung the door open.

Heart drumming excitement and anxiety into his bloodstream, he slid onto the bed on his stomach, kicking his legs in the air behind him and swishing them back and forth. He leaned his head against his palm and gave the camera a sultry look as he started the stream.

He’d chosen pink and white satin sheets to match his outfit and put some fluffy pillows around the bed to make the scene look cute and comfy. He knew it was much sweeter than his usual aesthetic, but there was an audience for it and he liked to mix it up for his own creative expression and so people wouldn’t get bored.

“Evening, everyone,” he said into the camera once the steady stream of people joining slowed down and evened out. “How about something a bit different tonight?”

The chat went crazy with agreement, people praising his choice of clothes, his hair, his body, and the way he was seductively rolling on his bed.

You’re late.

Liam smiled, licking his lips slowly.

“I know I was a bit late, but I had to make sure I looked perfect. You’ll forgive me, won’t you?” he said with a practiced pout.

He giggled at some of the replies, sweeping his hair over one shoulder so his neck was exposed.

Good boys should be on time.

A shot of ice flashed down Liam’s spine as he read and reread that single sentence surrounded by so many others.

It shouldn’t matter. This faceless, nameless person had no right to tell him if he was a good boy or not, it wasn’t their place. There was only one person Liam wanted to do that, he just had to pluck up the courage and actually tell him that.

“I guess I’m not a very good boy, then,” he said with a wink, sitting up on his heels. “So what should this naughty boy do tonight? Should I play with some toys? Or should I just play with myself?”

Suggestions rolled in, but all he could see was the single line that came through among them.

You need a daddy to put you in your place.

He couldn’t brush it off.