It’s been two weeks, since that first awful night when I had to perform sexual acts to a camera, getting typed messages on a computer screen as to what I should do to myself next. Vin wasn’t entirely wrong. It has gotten easier. But that’s only because he’s been sitting behind the camera watching me do it on most nights. And he spent almost every night in my bed too.

He’s watching me right now, as I rub my pussy over my panties and moan for the guy on the other side of the screen. This client is one of the easier ones to please, and he calls me almost every night. Vin’s eyes are dark and deep, menacing, but that’s because he wants his hand to be where mine is. The front of his pants is tenting up, he’s rock hard, but he won’t touch himself. He’s waiting for me to do that for him once my shift is over.

“Pinch your right nipple,” the command from my nameless admirer comes. I slide my hand up my belly and do it, moaning, my eyes locked on Vin’s. I’m doing all this for him. I hope he knows that.

“Now make yourself come. I want to watch you come.” I’ve gotten very good at faking this part, and I give the guy an excellent performance. But I’m saving the real thing for Vin later. I never have to fake anything with him. But I’m moaning and writhing so loudly anyone would think I’m having the orgasm of my life. Vin sits forward in his chair like he’s going to pounce on me and the camera be damned.

“Good girl,” my secret admirer writes and then the computer pings as he signs off. I have a queue of ten more already waiting their turn.

“Is he gone?” Vin asks in a harsh voice, but that’s just from his poorly controlled desire. I nod.

“You’re done for the night,” he says and gets up, slamming the lid of the laptop shut, and turning off the camera. “It’s my turn.”

He’s been doing that a lot too, having me sign off early so he can have his way with me. And it’s happening earlier and earlier too. It’s barely ten o’clock and this guy was only my fourth client tonight. Not that I’m complaining.

Vin pulls off his t-shirt and unbuckles his pants as he walks closer to me. I’m only wearing a pair of white panties, which are soaked through. But my wetness has nothing to do with the guys and their texted commands, and everything to do with the hunger and desire in Vin’s eyes as he watches me perform them.

“Come here,” he says hoarsely, stopping at the edge of the bed.

I’m already on my knees, and I move to where he wants me without needing to be told twice.

He unbuttons his jeans and unzips his fly, finally freeing his hard cock while looking at me with a command he doesn’t even have to voice for me to obey. I take over, gliding my hand across his pulsing, velvety soft girth, before leaning down and taking his cock between my lips, eliciting a long sigh from him. It sounds like he’s letting out the breath he’s been holding ever since I started my shift in front of the camera two hours ago.

He lets me lick and kiss his cock the way I want to for a while, but I know from his stance and the tightness in his body he wants more. He likes fucking my face, as much as he likes fucking my pussy.

So I open my mouth wider and take as much of his cock as I can into my mouth, looking up into his face as I do it, just the way he likes it. He grins at me and grabs the back of my head, pushing his cock in deeper and making me gag. I’ve gotten better at taking more of him down my throat in these last two weeks, but he’s huge, and I’m sure I will always gag. I also think he enjoys making me gag on his cock.

He pulls out enough to let me catch my breath, then pushes back in, making my pussy twitch in need to be filled too. He keeps doing that, and I keep my eyes on his, enjoying his complete surrender to the moment, to me, that I see in his. I’m gagging on every stroke now, my eyes filling with tears, but it’s not bad, even though he keeps pushing my limits, as he rams more and more of his cock down my throat. My pussy is aching from my need for release, but I don’t touch myself. I’ve done enough of that for tonight, and now it’s his turn.

He jabs his cock into my throat a few more times, then pulls out abruptly.

“Turn around,” he says, and I do it immediately, arching my back at him. I like the way he commands me, and the way he takes me. The need he has for me, being his lover, is the only thing that makes this new life of mine bearable.

He squeezes my butt cheeks before pulling down my panties roughly. But his touch is gentle as he runs his hands up my back to my throat. I moan as his callused fingers wrap around the tender flesh of my neck. He squeezes but not hard. The head of his rock hard cock is already pressing against my pussy, so close yet so tantalizingly far away. I sway my hips and rub against him, because I need him to fill me. The orgasms he gives me are the only thing that makes the horror of my existence here vanish completely.

It’s all the invitation he needs. He pushes his cock into me, his hands gripping the sides of my neck now, but I hardly feel that over the warmth and bliss his pulsing, thrusting cock is waking in my pussy. It starts to spread higher and higher, as he picks up the pace, until the blissful warmth is in my throat, in my head, and I’m moaning and writhing, accepting every one of his thrusts, which keep going deeper and deeper, splitting me open. I love his cock inside me, the way it makes all the colors in the room blur together into a soft, welcoming, rainbow blanket of pleasure.

Nothing but that pleasure, that blinding, breathtaking bliss, exists as a powerful orgasm rips through me. I feel lighter than air and so insubstantial I could just float away through the bars on the window, which I still see clearly despite everything else being blurry. But that’s just an illusion, so I let go of that too, surrender to the pleasure and bliss that is now all there is. Let go of all desires except for wanting these orgasms he gives me to never ever stop.

When I come to, I’m lying in his arms, the light hurting my eyes as I open them. He brushes a lock of hair off my face, and kisses the top of my head.

“You are the most beautiful and the most exciting woman I’ve ever met,” he says, smiling at me. He’s gorgeous with a straight face, and a million times more when he’s smiling. I could watch him smile all day long. “I might just have to move into this room permanently.”

The suggestion that he should free me, so we can run away together is on the tip of my tongue, but he doesn’t like it when I say those things. I don’t want to ruin this moment, or chase away the last traces of the mind-numbing orgasm he gave me, which mentioning that will certainly cause, so I don’t.

“I’d like that,” I murmur instead.

“Would you now?” he asks, still smiling despite the doubt in his eyes.

“Yes, I would,” I say, smiling at him too. “I think we could be very happy together in this room. After all, we already are.”

His eyes turn a darker green like a cloud is passing over a valley. Maybe he thinks I’m lying. But I meant every word. Because as long as he’s here, holding me, desiring me, kissing me, even this life is OK.

So I just hug him tighter, lay my head on his chest and close my eyes again.

Do I want to be free? Yes, I do. But I want Vin more. And that might be the stupid Katarina raising her voice in my head again, but I don’t think so. Is it stupid to try and make the best of a bad situation? Vin makes me feel good, makes me feel wanted and cared for.