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The night of my first show, I run around my room, cleaning up, checking how the light looks, deciding where and how to sit, and figuring out what I should wear. I try to set up my room like I have seen in other girls’ shows. What am I doing? What have I gotten myself into this time? What if no one likes me? Home for Christmas break, I have a lot of free time on my hands while my mom works nights. I have never reacted well to excessive free time.
It’s time to become Ariel, in live action for the first time. My heart starts to beat with excitement and nerves. I check my hair and makeup in my webcam, and am grateful for its low resolution. I turn on upbeat music and go live, staring at the room count and waiting for my first viewer to come in.
The viewers don’t rush in like I had hoped they would. But I knew it would likely be slow at first since shows don’t make it to the front page of the site until they have thousands of viewers. A few people come in and out, their screen names passing through my viewer list too quickly for me to attempt to engage them.
I finally get a few viewers and show begins. I find myself explaining that it is my very first show every minute or so as hundreds of viewers filter through my room, each asking me how I am doing and what I have planned for the night. The compliments are flying. BigDik34 loves my hair. Thank goodness my frizz magically disappears on cam. DaddysGirl is getting hard just imagining what my ass would feel like to spank. Not my thing, but whatever floats your boat, dude. I struggle to keep up with the flow of conversation in the chat window and try in vain to say hello to each new viewer as his or her name appears. It’s overwhelming and exhilarating.
Many viewers come in hurling insults: “Go run until you drop dead, Landwhale,” but I know the drill -- never feed the trolls. I let Blagus, my moderator, remove them from the room so I can focus on talking to people. Most just try to compliment me into taking my clothes off, as if simply telling me that I am beautiful will instantly make my panties disappear. I stick to the game plan -– stay polite and flirty and wait for them to pay for my clothes to come off. I make small talk with the room and answer the same questions over and over again.
“Are you a tight little virgin?” someone would type out. I try not to think about the creepiness of men wanting to think that I am a virgin.
“No honey, I’m not.”
“Oh. That’s too bad. I love virgins. How was your first time? Did it hurt? Did you bleed?” The same interaction repeats itself endlessly through the night.
While it only costs the room, which has several hundred viewers, ten dollars worth of tokens to get a piece of clothing off, it takes well over an hour to get my shirt off. I hope it’s not always like this. The show slowly moves forward with each new token goal resulting in another piece of clothing on the floor. Finally I am naked with my favorite vibrator in hand, and my lady bits pointed at the cam. God, it’s hard to get off when people are watching –- I am definitely not an exhibitionist. After some concentration, maneuvering, and awkward faces, I finally orgasm, joined by hundreds of viewers. I feel accomplished. I should get some sort of medal for this public service.
The show ends shortly after. I wish viewers a good night and promise that I will be back on cam the following day. As I lie in bed, back in PJs and contemplating my night, I am tired but thrilled. It feels like coming home after a first date. Three hundred dollars isn’t bad for sitting in bed for 5 hours.
Being live was so much more of a rush than just posting pictures on 4chan, and I am still coming down off of the adrenaline.