Chapter 6: So Adorably Ticklish

As the second month started, Lokee now had 50 subscribers, the original 40 who subscribed and ten new ones drawn to the site by Blake wearing the hoodie unknowingly advertising his own showercam. The website homepage of “Bake Sales With L” featured pictures of baked goods, a note that it was $10/month to join and two buttons “Sign In” and Join.” Existing members who signed in were brought to the real website with live streams, chat, image and video sales. Most new visitors saw the $10/month fee and went no further. Who would pay $10/m0nth just for the privilege of buying baked goods on line. Entemann’s didn’t charge a membership fee. If they did click the Join button, it brought them to an application page that Lokee could scrutinize but would rarely approve. If she thought an applicant was a true fangirl, fangay, or just a deviant, she would track them down in school and let them know what the website really was. The ones who looked like they thought there were real baked goods on the site would never hear back.

Of course the $10/month membership fee wasn’t going to put Lokee through that elite coding camp. She had to sell images and videos of Blake and, like tonight, get the clients to pay for her to live stream sexy pranks on Blake.

It was the dead of night in the Sales household, the kind of quiet where even the fridge’s hum felt like an intrusion. Lokee sat cross-legged on her bed, her laptop screen casting a faint glow on her face. The clock read 2:17 AM—perfect timing for her latest gig. Tonight was special. Eight dedicated clients had each bought a $30 “cake” through gift cards. To satisfy their request, Lokee would have to sneak into Blake’s bedroom while he slept and, this time, mess with more than his alarm clock or even his feet. It was risky, sure, but $240 was 4.8% of the $5,000 summer camp tuition. She thought maybe she underpriced the waterproof soap prank. But she had tonight’s prank to pull and Lokee had a plan.

She opened her laptop and remotely accessed the camera on Blake’s desk. The feed flickered to life: there he was, dead asleep face down on his bed, his broad shoulders rising and falling in deep, even breaths. The room was dim, lit only by the faint moonlight slipping through the curtains. Perfect. Lokee hit the button to start the private stream and opened the chat window at the designated time.

One by one, they signed on. The eight payers first, followed by 14 other fans who’d caught wind of the event through the grouptexts. The chat exploded with messages:

*sparklekitty: omg he’s so hot even sleeping 😍
cheerstar99: Admin you’re a legend if you pull this off
bubblegumqueen: is he really out? no way he wakes up right?
kawaii4life: show time!! 🍑
glitterbomb:* shhh don’t jinx it

Some gushed about Blake’s looks, calling him dreamy and perfect. Others doubted her nerve:

cheerstar99 You sure you can get away with it? What if he rolls over?

Lokee smirked at her screen, typing back:

ADMIN Watch and learn. I’ve got this.

She grabbed her tools—a small screwdriver from her desk drawer, a short extension cord from the family “junk” drawer, a red lightbulb she’d bought from Home Depot, and a white soapstone pencil, the kind used by tailors, she bought from Michael’s. Heart pounding but steady, she crept down the hall to Blake’s door. With a quick twist of the screwdriver, she bypassed Blake’s privacy lock. She wondered, why does he even bother? She slipped inside, closing the door softly behind her.

Blake didn’t stir. Lokee moved like a shadow, smiling at the workout clothes laid out in their usual spot, tube socks, jockstrap, shorts, and ... for a change ... a green souvenir tee-shirt. Lokee was in charge of the family laundry. A great job for a prankster. She had spent the last two weeks slowly depleting Blake’s supply of tee-shirts. When he put them in the laundry, she would wash them, fold them, and then hide them in her room. He didn’t notice, at first, But when he ran out of workout shirts he asked about them and Lokee apologized profusely, said she was falling behind because of all the homework and bake sales, and promised she would catch up soon. She almost cried. Blake told her not to worry about it and started to wear his souvenir tee-shirts. When he runs out of them he’ll resort to his white undershirts. When those are gone, He’ll probably ask again. That time Lokee will promise that she’ll have all his tee-shirts back to him the following afternoon. He’ll accept that but will have to work out the following morning shirtless. Lokee was sure all 50 clients would watch THAT and bake sales would skyrocket! Sometimes pranks take patience.

Lokee heading to Blake’s nightstand. She unscrewed the white bulb from his gooseneck lamp and swapped it for the red one, she gingerly placed the alarm clock and phone on the floor. She unplugged the gooseneck lamp and plugged it into the extension cord and the extension cord into the outlet. Then she carried the nightstand and lamp halfway down the bed. She turned it on and twisted the neck to aim a soft, dim spotlight right over Blake’s hips. The red glow bathed the area in a eerie, low-light hue—enough to see by, but not enough to wake him, or so she hoped. She lowered her head, peering back toward the laptop camera, knowing the chat was glued to the feed. With a grin, she gave a thumbs up, her face illuminated just enough for them to see.