Perform for Me
Copyright© 2025 by Ashley Camaron
Chapter 20: An Oasis of Normalcy
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 20: An Oasis of Normalcy - Teenage hacker Sam spies on his neighbors' most explicit secrets. But when the manipulative Madison catches him, she doesn't want silence—she wants a show. Now, he's the one on camera, forced to obey her explicit commands and act out her most degrading fantasies. It's a twisted game of psychological torture, and if he doesn't perform, she will burn his entire world to the ground.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa NonConsensual Heterosexual Fiction Crime Anal Sex Facial Oral Sex Tit-Fucking Voyeurism
Hitting send on that reply to Lila felt like a small victory—a momentary defiance against the shadows creeping in from every corner. Looks amazing. Can’t wait to see it in person. The words were simple, but they anchored Sam, pulling him back from the edge after Madison’s latest taunt and the raw shame of Harrison’s feed. For a few seconds, staring at her starry-night sketch, he could almost pretend he was just a regular guy texting a girl he liked. No feeds, no hacks, no parasitic partnerships. But the illusion shattered when his phone pinged back almost immediately: Tomorrow? Park after school? I need fresh air and good company. His heart leaped. A date—a real one, away from basements and screens. Maybe this was his chance to taste the normalcy he craved, even if it was built on lies.
The next day dragged on, every class a blur of half-heard lectures and stolen glances at his phone. Madison had been quiet since her camera taunt last night, but he knew better than to trust the silence. She was probably plotting, her web tightening while he played at being normal. When the final bell rang, he bolted for the park, his backpack slung over one shoulder, heart pounding with a mix of excitement and dread. Lila was already there, perched on a bench under a canopy of oaks, her sketchbook open on her lap. She looked up as he approached, her face lighting up with that effortless smile that always made his chest ache.
“Sam! You made it.” She jumped up, pulling him into a quick hug that smelled like vanilla and fresh paint. No demands, no manipulations—just warmth. It was such a stark contrast to Madison’s calculated touches that he froze for a second, savoring it.
“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it,” he said, forcing a grin to mask the turmoil inside. “Show me this masterpiece in person?”
She laughed, a bright, infectious sound, and flipped open her sketchbook. The drawing of the starry night was alive with swirling blues and golds, dotted with tiny, whimsical details—like hidden constellations forming hearts. “It’s inspired by that Van Gogh exhibit we talked about,” she explained, her eyes sparkling. “But I added my own twist. See? This one’s us—two stars colliding.”
He traced the lines with his finger, genuinely impressed. “It’s incredible. You’re like a wizard with colors.” The compliment slipped out easily, untainted by the darkness of his secrets. For the first time in days, he felt normal.
They started walking along the winding path, the park alive with the hum of normal life: kids chasing frisbees, couples picnicking, dogs barking at squirrels. No cameras here—or at least, none he controlled. Lila chattered animatedly about her art class, her voice full of that vibrant energy that drew him to her in the first place. “So, my teacher says I have ‘a unique perspective,’ but I think he just means I’m weird. Like, who paints exploding rainbows during a still-life assignment?”
He chuckled, the sound surprising even him. “Weird in the best way. Exploding rainbows sound way better than boring fruit bowls.”
“Right? Life’s too short for boring.” She nudged his shoulder playfully, her creativity bubbling over. “What about you? Any hidden talents I don’t know about? Besides being mysteriously brooding half the time.”
The question hit closer to home than she knew. His “talent” for hacking and spying was the last thing he wanted to share. Instead, he deflected with a half-truth. “I’m good at fixing computers. Nerd stuff. But nothing as cool as your art.”
She stopped walking, turning to face him with a mock-serious expression. “Nerd stuff is cool! Without it, we’d all be stuck in the Stone Age. Tell me more—what’s the weirdest fix you’ve done?”
They found a spot by the lake, sitting on the grass as he spun a safe story about debugging a friend’s virus-riddled laptop (leaving out the part where he’d used similar skills to invade lives). Lila listened intently, her eyes wide and engaged, laughing at his exaggerated descriptions of “code gremlins.” It was easy, effortless—talking to her felt like breathing fresh air after being trapped in a stuffy room. She shared more about her dreams: traveling to art schools in Europe, painting murals that “make people feel seen.” Her passion was infectious, pulling him into her world where creativity wasn’t a weapon but a gift.
As the sun dipped lower, casting golden hues over the water, they wandered toward the edge of the park. “Hey, movie time?” she suggested, checking her phone. “There’s that indie theater nearby—they have this quirky rom-com playing. No explosions, but plenty of awkward charm.”
“Sounds perfect,” he agreed, his chest warming at how seamlessly the day was unfolding. No interruptions, no feeds popping up in his mind. Just them.