The Ghost of Her Mistakes E-Book

Mia Kingsley

• Herausgeber: Black Umbrella Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 99

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Monsters hide in the dark.   Since it happened, I haven't left my apartment. Ever.    But that's okay. I can take care of myself, and I can earn a living without having to leave my comfort zone. People are paying to look at me. I perform, and they watch, all of us from the safe anonymity behind our respective screens. It works just fine—until I have to open my curtains one day.   An over-the-top dark reverse harem novella with lots of heat and three possessive alphas who only care about her.

Leseprobe

THE GHOST OF HER MISTAKES

MIA KINGSLEY

A DARK REVERSE HAREM ROMANCE

CONTENTS

The Ghost Of Her Mistakes

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Epilogue

About the Author

THE GHOST OF HER MISTAKES

Monsters hide in the dark.

Since it happened, I haven't left my apartment. Ever.

But that's okay. I can take care of myself, and I can earn a living without having to leave my comfort zone. People are paying to look at me. I perform, and they watch, all of us from the safe anonymity behind our respective screens.

It works just fine—until I have to open my curtains one day.

An over-the-top dark reverse harem novella with lots of heat and three possessive alphas who only care about her.

1

FAYE

Kneeling on the bed and trailing my fingers over my skin, I wait for the little noise that sounds just like a coin dropped to the floor. I'm patient and have no problem waiting just a bit more. Undressing is part of the game, and I only do it when I get paid.

Licking the tip of my finger, I touch the dark-blue lace of my bra. The contrast to my pale skin is amazing—even in 4K. Leaning toward the camera, my breasts nearly spill out of the lacy piece of clothing. They won't, of course. Not until I hear that magic sound.

The small tips keep coming in, along with those hastily tipped messages. BigOne45 wants me to turn around and show him my ass. This one always thinks he's the only customer I have. But he isn't. There are 3,265 people currently watching me strip for the camera, and it will be even more once I'm naked. The numbers usually go through the roof as soon as pussies and toys are on display. Not today though. I can already see a few familiar usernames, and I'm quite sure one of them will pay for a private session and the illusion of owning me, even if it's only for a few minutes to get him off.

I shake my boobs before I lean back and spread my legs a little farther. That always does the trick. I hear the familiar sound of the dropping coin accompanied by a cheery fanfare. I just hit my first tip goal for today. For the equivalent of $500, I take off my bra. The panties will drop for an additional $750. As soon as we hit 25,000 credits, I will get my dildo and start playing with myself—unless one of the big spenders buys my time so only he gets to watch me cum.

At this point, I don't even have to pretend anymore. The first few times I was way too nervous to reach climax, but twenty months later, I'm performing like a pro, raking in tons of money. I'm always online unless I sleep, which makes me easily accessible in all markets: Asia, Australia, Europe, and America. Someone always wants to watch. The dirtier, the better; the lesser inhibitions, the better—and mirror, mirror on the wall, I'm the dirtiest of them all.

My online persona needstobefilled69 has quite the reputation, and I wish I could say I worked hard for it. But as a matter of fact, all I ever do is getting undressed before making myself cum in the most creative way I can imagine. Of course things like Spanking Sunday, Work it Wednesday, and Moaning Monday really help, as does the wheel of fortune that is located behind the bed I'm performing on. Tipping me 666 credits will get the paying customer one spin of the wheel. It's filled with tasks for me like spanking myself, wearing nipple clamps, using a special toy, or edging for a specific number of minutes.

In the beginning, I tried to be the good girl. I really tried. But the submissive whore begging for pain, degradation, and orgasms sells way better. A surprising number of people pay good money to see me on my knees, bound and gagged, writhing in pleasure or pain, even if it's only pretend. Well, my orgasms aren't, and that's probably what counts most.

I'm currently ranked number 2 on the site I'm working for. To be honest, I don't even want to talk about the fact that only goodgirlmarybeth is ranked above me while making her money wearing pigtails and rubbing herself on a giant plush teddy bear. I know for a fact that she's twenty-four, but she has fake braces and very tiny tits. Her whole concept makes me uncomfortable, to say the least, yet she probably earns six figures every single month considering what I make, being the second biggest earner here.

Hands behind my back, I unclasp my bra and let it drop. My boobs are big and full; there's no mistaking me for a young girl anymore. But my customers don't care.

I look straight into the camera as I pinch my nipples and moan. Circling the hard nubs with my fingers, I enjoy the attention. Pulling and twisting, I whimper and bite my lower lip before I start rubbing my thighs.

"You know, guys, I still got an unopened package here. One of you was gracious enough to gift me something from my dirty wish list. Who wants to know what it is?" I lean forward, my breasts swinging, and pick the package up from the floor. Shaking the box close to the camera, I make sure they hear the rattling noise inside.

It's a pair of vicious nipple clamps. Of course, I already opened the package to make sure it doesn't contain feces or dick pics or whatever else some of my creepy fans can come up with. But with the way I'm holding the box, they can't see the opening I cut into the back.

Excited comments and small tips are answering my question, and I pretend to be opening the box for the first time. The clamps are silver and gleam nicely in my floodlights. The lighting is the most important ingredient to a successful cam girl career. The audience will forgive you for bad audio, but they want to be able to see every drop of wetness on your pussy, or you're done before you really started.

I make sure to upgrade my setting every few months, just like the backdrop. Currently, it looks like my bed is standing in a jail cell. Every day when I start my show, I'm wearing a sexy orange jumpsuit. It's a children's Halloween custom and way too tight for me, but it works to start the session.

I open the clamps, showing my viewers the nasty little teeth. "Is it just me or do these look like a bitch? I can already feel them abusing my poor nipples."

A pout works wonders, and the tips are flowing in to make sure that I actually wear them.

"Just for you." I bite my lip and stroke my nipples before attaching the clamps. While I'm still whimpering for the camera, the sound of the dropped coin, along with the fanfare, chimes from my speakers. Time to drop the panties.

I make sure they see the wet spot on the dark-blue fabric as I peel them off.

Slightly tugging on the chain connecting the clamps, I take the card from the box they came in. "Thanks to derbythederp for gifting me those. God." I moan and lean my head back. "You guys, I'm so fucking wet. The pain is just too delicious."

I keep tugging for a few more seconds before I spread my legs apart. A new message appears on my screen, and I read it out loud. "BigMax wants me to spank my pussy three times. Thanks for the tip, BigMax." Batting my lashes at the camera, I lift my hand and proceed to spank myself. I'm actually wet and can't wait to orgasm, but I also know that I have to draw this show out.

New girls often ask how to lower your inhibitions. I don't have an answer for them. In my opinion, you're either comfortable performing like this or not. Their biggest concern is getting recognized on the street by a fan.

That won't ever happen to me. The day I started camming is also the day I've been outside for the last time. I haven't left my apartment for the last twenty months, and I intend to keep it that way. I don't need to leave. The amount of money I make getting myself off allows me a very comfortable life with having delivered everything I need to survive. Food, drinks, toilet paper—everything is just a click away nowadays.

It's perfect, really.

There's a low chiming noise, and I know that—to my audience's disappointment—someone just bought a private show.

My screen switches from the chat box to the other user's cam window. If they want to remain anonymous, the screen will be gray. Instead, I see Mr. Matsuda's office in the background. He sits in his huge leather chair. "Konbanwa."

Right, it's late in Japan. He's probably working overtime again.

I take off the nipple clamps and smile for him. "What can I do to please you, sir?"

"Gift?" he asks with his heavy accent, and I can feel my heart beating faster.

"I got your gift, yes. Hold on." Again, I lean forward to look for the right box.

Mr. Matsuda's eyes are gleaming as I pull the freakishly huge dildo from its package. The size isn't the only freaky thing about this toy. It's one of those fantasy dildos that is shaped like a tentacle. It's blue and, at the base, easily as thick as my forearm. The sucker pads look like they could be fun, but the size worries me. If it was a little smaller, I would be ecstatic. The curve and pointy tip will probably work wonders around the G-spot area, and I bet those sucker pads and the ribbed shaft make for the most delicious friction.

Mr. Matsuda taps a few keys on his keyboard, and the next tip is so big; it's obvious what he wants to see. I will have to fuck that tentacle and ride it like a stallion.

As I push my blankets and pillows aside, Mr. Matsuda opens his pants. Gripping the toy with my hand, I start lowering myself until the tentacle's tip nudges between my slick pussy lips.

Mr. Matsuda clicks his tongue. As I look at him in confusion, stopping midair, it dawns on me.

Mr. Matsuda bows down, hands politely folded. "Ass, please."

"You are a very dirty man, sir."

He just smiles and starts rubbing his dick as I grab the bottle of lube.

2

SEBASTIAN

Tyler grunts as he steps into the apartment. Scratching his head, he looks around. "Wow. Were there no smaller accommodations available?"

I flip him off. "It's not like you assholes gave me a lot of time, right? For what I was working with, it's perfect. Less than three minutes to the store and back, the parking garage underneath and the other two apartments on this floor are currently uninhabited."

"Gee. I wonder why." Tyler pulls the curtains back and grunts again. "The view is . . . really something."

"Does it matter that you can talk with your neighbor from the other building while standing on the balcony? It's not like we're planning on staying here. Will you survive sleeping here for a couple of nights?"

"Speaking with the neighbor? You can practically climb onto their balcony."

"It doesn't matter." Austin puts his bag down. "Sebastian is right. It's perfect for what it's supposed to be. We're not going to stay, so stop being such a drama queen."