Chapter 1: Chapter 1

"Discerning guests, and those of you with fuck all else to do on a Tuesday evening. I hope you enjoyed this video, remember to use the promo code 'LoveSongsWithMrsLunt' to get a discount on my autumn collection of me fucking all different types of melons and gourds. Until next time my darlings." 

I eased myself off of the dildo I had been riding and staggered over to my camera to turn off the recording. I needed a well deserved rest and to clean up. Being a porn content creator was a lot more work than I had originally thought. But it strangely filled a void in my life. Pun intended. I awkwardly waddled over to my lighting kits and switched them off as well before making my way to the bathroom. 

Very few things in life ever truly allow you to experience true bliss. Though, there are some that are attainable by even us mere mortals. Heaven holds no pleasure as great, Hell offers no temptation as sweet, as the feeling of a scalding hot shower to wash the lube out of your asshole, and the cum from your stomach. The steam cascading off your body, the utterly sinful sensation of the scorching water alleviating the aching in your thighs after riding a seven inch silicone cock for thirty minutes. Everyone always says “You shouldn’t take hot showers, they're bad for your skin.” But honestly, fuck those people. They have no clue the sheer ecstasies they’re missing out on. Plus, it gives me an excuse to use my rose scented moisturizer. 

As I stood there, relishing the feeling of using an opaque white fluid to wash off a different opaque white fluid. I couldn't help but think of how my life had gotten to this point. I was a porn star. Kind of. I had weekly streams, as well as regular videos of various kinks and gimmicks. Not to mention a semi sizable following. About halfway through the pandemic I lost my job. I was essential until I wasn’t. Nothing like showing up to a shitty retail job and being told that your name was drawn from a hat and now you no longer have income to pay for the rent at your shitty apartment you had to move into because your shitty sister kicked you out of her house for not “Trying hard enough” to find a better job.

So after going back to my shitty apartment and crying for three hours, I had to think of a way to make rent. I had already been applying to every job posting I could, so my options were a bit limited. Then, after doing what little bit of self care I could, I was hit by, I was struck by, a smooth brainimal! 

I had a camera, I had the toys, I just needed to put my degree in film to use for once. I had heard of lots of people starting up an OnlyFans, so why couldn't I do the same? The only issue was that I’m a guy. Obviously girls made way more money on that kind of stuff, so I just had to get  creative. A little eye makeup practice, a cute mask that said “UwU” on it, (Thankfully they had been normalized during Covid), a quick stop by the costume store, and I was good to go.

Thus, Alice of Malice was spawned. A fun persona I came up with. She was cool, she was sexy, and she had a way better name than I did. Seriously, who names their kid Lloyd? Yeah I'm a guy, but Lloyd is such an old guy name. Like Hubert, or Frank. Alice was someone I could have fun with. Or, have fun as, I suppose. I started off with basic shots, learning how to frame the right angles until I found the one that made me look acute. I made sure to tuck myself properly so I could keep up the appearance of being a girl. For a while, things went okay. I began to advertise on Twitter and a few other places and started making enough money so I wouldn't starve. But everything changed the day I decided to do a live stream. 

I had been trying to network online as much as I could. Getting the word out and people interested in watching was key to gaining any kind of significant revenue. But during my live stream, things got…complicated. It was my first time with no edits or anything, so I wanted it to be good. I wore my maid outfit, my smoothest stockings, my cutest mask with cat whiskers on it, and I was riding that dildo harder than I normally would. As I let out my best chorus of moans and whimpers I noticed that my view count had gone up significantly. Not like, by thousands or anything, but definitely more than the thirty people who I had started with. I checked the chat and my heart decided to check out of the hotel called my chest for several moments. My dick had come untucked and was flopping around as I was streaming. 

I looked down and confirmed my grave error as an absolute puddle of leaking precum was forming underneath me. I feared my entire plan of making rent was about to crumble from beneath me. I expected to see people reporting me for lying, or calling me out, but they strangely didn't. Turns out they assumed I was a trans girl which apparently got more people to show up. I decided to just kind of go with it out of sheer awkwardness. People were still referring to me as a girl in chat so I thought maybe it could still work out. 

I continued to ride my favorite dildo and put on a show for everyone. Being so desired by people, knowing that they were actually getting off to me, finding me attractive and telling me what a cute girl I was. It struck something at my core. I felt a rush I never had before. I wanted more of it, never once had I been so overcome by confidence and maybe the right word would be euphoria? It felt really good to be wanted. I decided to start stroking while fucking myself senseless and that seemed to send people into a real frenzy. 

Once I finished and pretty much soaked the skirt of my maid outfit, I had gained more subscribers. Turns out people wanted me more when I just let go and went all out. Afterwards, I thought for a long while about the ethics of what I was doing. But unfortunately my need for money, food and a roof over my head outweighed my feelings of guilt about impersonating a girl. More so a trans girl. I mean, I should have just stopped right then and there. But, I really liked how it felt. My entire life had been people not wanting me. My family, my job, my city. It was like I just didn't belong anywhere. But, this was a way for me to not only feel wanted, but to survive as well. 

 

I turned the water off, stepped out of the shower, and began drying off. It was odd how I didn’t hate my body as much as I used to. Maybe it was the regular shaving of all my body hair, maybe it was the moisturizing I had been doing, maybe it really was Maybelline. Either way I felt so much more at home in my own skin then before I started all of this. I smeared the fog from my mirror and took a long look at myself. 

There were still some things I could work on. I was shaving my face every day and the stubble kept coming back like I owed it money. The one fucking somewhat decent thing that came out of the pandemic had been masks. I could just pop one on while filming and not only did it keep my face hidden, but it hid the facial hair as well. Seeing things like that when editing my videos always sent me to a weird space. I did my best to look as feminine as possible when filming. It took me a little while to get used to incorporating my dick into stuff, figuratively and literally. Sometimes I do wish I could just be Alice in more than just online. Maybe one day I could…

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My phone went off with the Star Wars Darth Vader ringtone. Work was calling. I audibly groaned as I stomped my way out of the bathroom. Maybe I could fake being sick. There was only ever one reason they called. I really didn’t feel like working a shift after fucking myself with Shania tWang.

I sighed angrily and answered. “Hello?” 

“Heyyyy Lloyd! You busy today?” My manager Jeff had his well rehearsed “Buddy buddy” voice on. 

I knew it. My legs were still a bit jellified from everything. Fuck it, I was gonna be a bitch. “Well, today’s my day off so--yeah.” 

There was a pause. “...I know, but Kenny called out sick again and Lonnie came in to cover for Steph. Not to mention we have a sale going on so we need all hands on deck. We really need you buddy.” 

There was one thing I hated more than anything in the world, and that was guilt trips. Hell, I’d rather go to Florida than take another guilt trip from an asshole with a God complex because he let himself get fucked by a company harder than I do on camera. 

“Sure Jeff, I’ll come in today. It’ll be a little while because I was in the middle of things on my day off. But I’ll be there as soon as I can.” If my voice had physical form it would have been a tidal wave of seething resentment and sarcasm. Not to mention cascading fire and rage from the sky. So, my customer service voice. 

“Thanks Lloyd! Knew we could count on you! See you as quickly as you can get here.” He piped up with a relieved tone. 

“All hands on dick is more like it. Asshole.” I muttered.

“What was that?” Jeff's voice chimed from the phone that I thought I had hung up.

My soul leaped from my body at my realization. “Uhhh, nothing! That was the TV! Bye!” I frantically hung up for real and even turned my phone off just to be sure. 

I flopped onto my bed and stared at the weird popcorn ceiling texture. It was like you could never quite focus on it. The pale color, mixed with uneven patterned bumps, and intentional splotches. I went cross-eyed every time I stared for too long trying to make sense of it. Or maybe my brain didn't want to make sense of it. Maybe there were some things we just weren't supposed to focus on. Like my life choices of pretending to be a girl for money, naming all my dildos after women, and going to work on my off day after fucking myself so hard that when I came, it hit my mirror in my room. That was a new record. 

But alas, there was no point in fighting things you can’t understand. Though I fully understood I needed the extra cash so I could get a skirt and heels I had been wanting for a while. I groaned and sat up to get ready, taking two pills from the bottle on my dresser before putting my clothes on. It was time to go sell my body for money, and not in a fun way. 

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