Perform for Me
Copyright© 2025 by Ashley Camaron
Chapter 7: Madison’s Private Show
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 7: Madison’s Private Show - 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
Sam stumbled back into his room after Madison dropped him off, his mind a chaotic storm of guilt, excitement, and dread. The USB hard drive burned a hole in his pocket like a forbidden artifact, its weight a constant reminder of the deal he’d just struck with the devil herself. He slammed the door shut, leaning against it as his heart pounded. What the hell have I done? he thought, his fingers itching to plug in the drive even as his conscience screamed at him to destroy it.
His own home was supposed to be his safe haven—secure, unlike the neighbors’ flimsy systems that Madison had pushed on everyone. But last year in their old house, his mom had installed a basic surveillance setup after some local break-ins, insisting on cameras in key spots, including his room, for “peace of mind.” It was one of the first things she had installed in their new house.
It was a different, supposedly locked-down brand, and Sam had fought her on it, hating the privacy invasion. He’d never connected it to the hackable neighborhood network. Yet this morning, as part of their twisted bargain, Madison had demanded access—blackmailing him into creating a backdoor for view-only privileges. “I want eyes everywhere, including on you,” she’d purred with that predatory smile. He’d relented, hating himself, but now even his sanctuary felt exposed, violated.
He’d barely had time to process the morning’s events. After setting up Madison’s access to the neighborhood cameras—granting her the same godlike view he’d exploited for days— she’d walked him home with that smug, knowing smile, her parting words echoing in his ears: “Check your feeds tonight, around nine. I might have something special for you.” The implication had sent a shiver down his spine, a mix of anticipation and revulsion that left him hard and ashamed.
Sam tossed the USB onto his desk and collapsed into his chair, staring at his computer screen. The grid of camera feeds blinked to life as he logged in, the neighborhood laid bare before him. Emily’s house was quiet—her room empty, lights off, which brought a fleeting sense of relief. At least she’s safe for now, he told himself, clinging to the rationalization that his voyeurism was protective, not perverse. But the new icons for other neighbors’ systems taunted him, thanks to Madison’s nudge. He hadn’t explored them yet, too fixated on Emily and Madison, but now ... curiosity gnawed at him.
No, he thought, shaking his head. Focus. He needed to check on Emily first, make sure Jake wasn’t lurking. But as the clock ticked toward 9:00 PM, his eyes kept drifting to Madison’s feeds. The office one, in particular—the dimly lit room where she’d cornered him earlier that day. She’s performing harder for you, her voice whispered in his memory, seductive and mocking.
By 8:55, Sam couldn’t resist. He clicked into Madison’s office feed, the security feed filling his screen. The room was empty at first, the desk lamp casting long shadows over the polished wood and scattered papers. He leaned back, his hand unconsciously drifting to his lap as he waited, the anticipation building like a coiled spring.
At exactly 9:00, the door creaked open, and Madison sauntered in, her silhouette framed by the hallway light. She was dressed in a sheer black negligee that clung to her curves like a second skin, the fabric so thin it left little to the imagination—her full breasts straining against the lace, nipples already pebbled and visible through the material. She locked the door behind her, her movements deliberate, theatrical, as if she knew exactly who was watching.
Of course she does, Sam thought, his breath catching. She glanced directly at the camera hidden in the corner bookshelf, her lips curving into a wicked smile that sent a jolt straight to his groin.
“Well, hello there,” she purred, her voice carrying clearly through the audio feed, low and husky. “I hope you’re comfortable, Sam. This one’s just for you.”
Sam’s cock twitched in his pants, hardening instantly as she approached the desk, her hips swaying with predatory grace. She perched on the edge, spreading her legs slightly to reveal the absence of panties—the neat trim of her pubic hair glistening faintly in the lamplight, her arousal already evident. “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” she continued, her fingers trailing lazily up her thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “About how hard you got watching that little teaser. Did you like it? The way I stretched myself for you?”
She reached into a drawer, pulling out the same obscenely large dildo from the video—the thick, veined monster that had bulged against her stomach in the clip. Sam’s mouth went dry as she held it up to the camera, twisting it slowly so he could see every ridge, every glossy inch. “Remember this? I know you do. But tonight ... I’m going to make it even better.”
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