Page 7 of Control Freak

“Now it’s going to be seven hundred next week,” he said, his large hand squeezing my throat.

I clawed at his fingers, but I couldn’t break his grip. Tears welled in my eyes. I wheezed out the only word I could. “F-fine!”

He released me, and I gasped for breath, spots dancing before my eyes.

“Word of advice, Shy. Stop being a little bitch about this. Jimmie stole from us, and we’re going to extract what we’re owed, either in cash or in a pound of your fucking flesh. Got it?”

“I’m not even with Jimmie,” I rasped. “I broke up with him before he robbed you. It shouldn’t be my problem.”

A meaty fist flew at my face. I lurched away, but I couldn’t totally dodge the hit. It crashed into my jaw, sending me to the ground.

He crouched beside me. “When are you going to learn? We don’t give a shit. Jimmie ain’t here, so you’ll have to do, won’t you?” His voice turned silky smooth. “Besides, it’s not like you didn’t know what he was doing. He spent that money on you. On your hair and your nails and god knows what else. He took care of you, and now you’re going to take care of us.”

My eyes watered, this time with frustration. My taste in men had never been great, but Jimmie took the cake. I should have known the first time he flashed his money around that he was into something sketchy. He’d paid to repair my car when it broke down. Bought me a phone. Always covered the tab when we went out. But I thought he was employed and responsible, not the neighborhood drug dealer.

I broke it off as soon as I figured out the truth—right after meeting Brick for the first time. He wasn’t subtle. But it was too late. Jimmie robbed his buddies a week later and then got himself thrown in prison, leavingmeto pay the price.

Brick grabbed my face, one finger pressing into my jaw where he’d hit me. I hissed as pain flared, and he clucked his tongue.

“You better get home and put some ice on that. It looks like it’s going to bruise. Seven hundred. Next week. Promptly, or this will be the least of your pain. Got it?”

“H-how am I supposed to cam with a bruised face?” I whispered.

He made as if to hit me again, and I flinched, eyes closing.

Brick laughed. “Keep the camera pointed at your dick. That’s all they care about, right?” He pulled me to my feet and brushed dirt from my arms, my back, my ass. He lingered there a minute. Brick was a self-proclaimed straight guy who thought what Jimmie and I did was disgusting.

He was also copping a feel.

But I didn’t have it in me to risk more abuse. I stood there, rigid, heart thumping loudly, until he stopped touching me.

“See you next week, Shiloh. Have the money ready.”

He walked away.

I slumped onto the bus stop bench, shaking too hard to stand. The twenty minutes until the bus came dragged by as the throbs in my jaw echoed the thuds of my heart.

How had I gotten here? Three months ago, I’d been a schoolteacher with a charming boyfriend. My salary was modest, but I loved my job, and I had my life together so much better than my parents ever believed I would.

I’d gotten kicked out at seventeen, but I’d worked two jobs to make it through college—one of them as a camboy to cover my tuition.

That’s what had given me the idea to cam when Brick and Curtis came calling about Jimmie’s debt and I couldn’t persuade them that I wasn’t the person who owed them.

It was the quickest, easiest way for me to earn the cash they kept demanding. But part of the appeal of a camboy was that hewasn’t too cheap or easy. You got the highest rates by making viewers believe that they were getting a VIP treatment when they got access to you.

If I started adding cam sessions willy-nilly, I’d just drive down my value. I could take on more private sessions, yes, but I only had two steady clients who wanted those.

Would Holden want more time with me?

My heart fluttered at the thought, then dropped like a rock. I couldn’t ask him. Even if he would take me up on it, I’d be taking advantage of his need for intimacy.

I wished I could stop charging him altogether. It felt wrong to take Holden’s money when I loved our talks so much. The sex was good too, but I’d always been a little bit of a slut, so that was to be expected. I wouldn’t be a camboy if I didn’t have an exhibitionist streak mixed with a very healthy sex drive.

The way Holden liked to take control and boss me around only fed the exhibitionist in me. I loved performing for him.

But with the pressure to pay these creeps more every week, I couldn’t afford to turn down Holden’s money. Still, I refused to use him like some sort of cash cow.

I’d have to come up with another way. Maybe add more sessions under another name or do more shows on a few larger cam websites. They paid less per show, but right now, I couldn’t be choosy about how I came up with the money.