Page 10 of Chasing My Bliss (Behind The Lens #6)

I wanted to kill that fucker.

InkedAlpha.

He’s probably some pimply faced, spoiled brat of a no-good rich asshole. How dare he call my sweet Bliss a bitch. She’s a queen. A goddess. And one day she’s going to be mine, away from all these hormone-ridden people hiding anonymously behind screen names.

Bliss isn’t like the other cam girls.

She doesn’t just undress. She puts on a show, turning what most consider lewdness into an art.

Every graceful movement she makes, every breath she exhales, is deliberate and holy.

Even when she laughs, there’s a softness to it—a vulnerability I know she only lets out when she forgets the world is watching.

When she forgets that we’re there, taking in everything she does, salivating over it.

I know her schedule, waiting eagerly for the notification that she’s gone live. But that’s not all. I make sure that I have my camcorder ready, recording not only her live but me stroking my cock as I watch her. My very own little porno for when she’s not available.

I know things about her. Important things that not many would catch on to.

Like how she hesitates before reading certain messages, even when she smiles.

How her eyes darken when someone crosses the line and her voice hitches slightly.

Bliss is a pro, though; she never lets it show.

I can read her better than anyone in that chat ever could.

They see a body. I see the woman inside it, trembling beneath the weight of the performance.

Even from the beginning, I’ve been keeping notes. Every little detail is important to me—from the songs playing in the background to the type of underwear she wears. I know it all. It’s taken time, but I’m patient.

At first, it was more like an appreciation of her. One could even call it devotion. But devotion is just obsession dressed in nicer clothes; and I am fully obsessed with Bliss.

With each live, from the first one until now, I see no others. It’s just her and me. As if she is speaking just for my ears.

I never saw them; the faces behind the names popping up on the screen. Not until they pissed me off.

I can be what they can’t. Unlike them, I can protect her.

I want to shield her—from the messages, the degradation, the aching demands of the screen. All I’ve wanted to do from the beginning is take her away from it all. I know it’s what she craves. I can see it in her eyes.

When I read how they talk to her, about her—those strangers with usernames like diseases—I don’t feel anger. I feel murderous rage. My vision gets masked in a shade of red. It’s not the version of me that I want her to see. Not my precious Bliss.

Those fucking viewers don’t deserve her. But I do.

I am the only one who sees the pain she tries to hide. The only one who can give her what she truly needs. Love her the way she should be loved.

When I first found my Bliss, I reminded myself that I had limits. A clear line I couldn’t cross. I have carefully placed rules for a reason. Ones that are clear and precise. But slowly I’ve been breaking them. For her.

It’s all for her.

The rules were simple. Never comment in the chat. Never try to find out her real name. Never send a direct message. That last one is the only line I haven't crossed yet, but I have come close. And I fear it’ll only be a matter of time before I do.

In her first live, her tiny little slip up sent me on a path off my routine. And once I started digging, I couldn’t stop. It became an obsession. She became an obsession.

It was almost too easy. Discovering Bliss.

I knew where she went to school. Patience was my virtue, and it paid off when I was in the right place at the right time.

I heard her voice before I saw her face, and it was even more beautiful without the mask.

I could really see her without a barrier in the way.

Her smile, the tiny freckles barely detectable across the bridge of her nose.

Bliss is a vision. And she’s going to be mine.

She was so unaware of her surroundings that she didn’t even know I was watching her. To her, I was just another face in the crowd, and I meant to keep it that way.

The more I uncovered about her, the more I needed to know. My hunger to know Bliss became insatiable.

I tell myself I’m just fulfilling my desire to be close to her. It isn’t stalking. It’s love.

I know I’m the only one who can keep her safe from all the things she doesn’t even realize are dangerous.

From the viewers.

From the comments.

From herself.

And one day… one day soon, she’ll know who I am.

RavenSin

It’s as if she’s performing for me. She’s been my obsession since I first saw her. She doesn’t know it yet. But I’d do anything to be with her. To make her mine.

I know everything there is to know about Bliss. Her name. Where she lives and works. Her class schedule and that she has a boyfriend.

Bliss doesn’t know the lengths I’ll go to make her mine. She’s a drug, and I’m the addict that wants to overdose on her. I close my eyes, imagining how her pussy tastes. How she looks when she truly comes, not from a toy but from me. Will she still make those soft moans or will they be louder?

I’ve been patient. But it’s run its course, and it’s time to take action. To make her mine. Truly and completely.