The bus rocked unsteadily in the icy cold wind, as it slowly followed the slow after hour’s traffic. Most of the commuters were seated, although many had to stand in the crowded public vehicle. Valeria was among the standing passengers.

Despite the heavy winter coat, the young girl shivered from the Russian cold. At this time of year, the city temperature was constantly freezing, and even though it was a short walk from work, she had been waiting a long time at the bus stop before the scheduled pick-up of commuters.

At one point, Valeria had found a seat and with feigned oblivion ignored an elderly man carrying a cane, who needed a seat. When she thought the old geezer was about to stop staring accusingly at her, a woman about her mother’s age shook her shoulder and demanded her to offer her seat to the impaired old man. Reluctantly she rose from the warm seat.

The woman made her think of her mother. She wished so very much that she could move away from her and be able to live her own life and make her own decisions. That she could get away from the drinking, the arguments and the beatings...

Valeria noticed a guy staring at her. Briefly, their eyes met, but she quickly looked away. He was in his forties and could easily have been her dad, but the look he was giving her ... It was not even remotely a fatherly look.

From the hungry, almost desperate, look in his eyes, she could only imagine how she looked to him. She was short, petite, with long dark blond hair and was sometimes mistaken for being younger than her actual nineteen years. Maybe he was just staring at her small nose ring, judging her with his old-fashioned, conservative opinions. Maybe he was a pervert getting a thrill from watching pretty, young girls, who were much too young for him. Or maybe he recognised her from her workplace...

Again, she shivered, although this time it wasn’t from the cold, but from the horrifying thought of meeting a person, who was aware of, which kind of job she had in real life. Who had seen her, while she was working.

The middle-aged man smiled at her, and under different circumstances, she would have thought him friendly and good-natured. Even as he smiled his kind and forthcoming smile, she noticed that his gaze wandered from her eyes to her slender figure and the thin fabric covering her slim lower body.

She rolled her eyes dismissively at him, but her feeling of repulsion towards the old pig was mixed with uncertainty and doubt. A strange, familiar sensation made her stomach flutter in excitement and confusion.

A few times a week, she worked as a model at a studio closer to the city centre. The pay was not good, but it was next to impossible to find another job for a girl without any relevant qualifications, and if she did find one, then the pay was even worse. In addition, it had to fit in with her studies.

It reminded her of her paper on building materials, which she had to prepare for the following day. She highly doubted that she had enough time to do it properly, even if she sacrificed her sleep to work on the paper. She sighed audibly in frustration, but noticed to her relief that the old pervert exited the bus in just that moment.

How many perverts had visited her in her room at the studio today? Fifty? A hundred? She easily lost count and usually only paid attention to those, who communicated with her past the trivial “Hi babe” and “hru?”, as well as those who paid for her shows.

She was a webcam model. A nude one and it was her job to satisfy her online visitors with companionship, striptease and sexual performances of every imaginable kind in return for money. She had been doing this for more than a year now, ever since shortly after her eighteenth birthday. And she hated it. At first, she thought it was an excellent opportunity because of the relatively high pay, and she naïvely expected that she just had to chat with lonely people online. Quickly, she discovered that her “lonely visitors” expected more than just a friendly chat.

She had rejected their advances for some time, a couple of days, when she learned that her pay very much depended on her visitors’ satisfaction with her company. A few, very few, were happy with just chatting, but their gratification was not nearly enough to justify her time spent with them. In addition, her boss began scolding her for not making enough money for the studio.

Half. That was what she had to give the studio from what she earned during her shifts. She was aware of this from the start, but she didn’t anticipate how difficult it was to make her visitors pay for her company.

It was less than a week, when she exposed herself to a visitor for the first time. A guy took her into an exclusive show and before long he had persuaded her into opening her shirt for him. He demanded her to watch him through his own webcam, while he masturbated and called her demeaning names.

She just sat there, with her small breasts uncovered for his hungry glare and watched this old man, who probably was ten years older than her own father was. His wrinkled hands pulled furiously at his semi-erect penis, while he spewed words like, “slut”, “whore” and “bitch” at her. All she could do was to wait for it to be over.

Afterwards she felt empty inside, and the rest of her shift passed like a hazy dream. She didn’t earn anymore that day, and she cried in her room, when she came home. Her mother was snoring on the sofa, probably passed out from too much alcohol.

From that first time, it escalated gradually. Opening her shirt became a regular part of her private shows, and her visitors praised her for her young, nubile body. Next, she was only wearing her small panties, and a guy offered her a handsome compensation, if she pulled the cloth covering her crotch aside for the camera. She did.

Before she knew it, she was a very young and very nude teenager, lying on her back in her room, nervously running her fingers through the delicate folds of her inexperienced sex in front of the cam. Her visitors loved her and worshipped her. Some of them called her natural and innocent, which in a sense was true, as she didn’t have the nerve to act or pretend in these situations. Others were rude and called her names. Humiliating names.

She hated the harsh words, but comforted herself with the fact that they were unjustified and far from the truth. She was neither a slut nor a whore, but she wasn’t innocent either. A few boyfriends had crossed her path, but at the moment she was single. With this job, she felt like she had to be, and she was too busy with her studies to think about love.

The bus came to a sudden stop, which dragged Valeria out of her thoughts, and she realised that this was her stop. Hurriedly, she exited the vehicle and whatever warmth she had accumulated inside was immediately snuffed away by the insisting freeze outside. A ten-minute walk through the wind and she was finally back inside.

In hindsight Valeria understood that her visitors’ infatuation with her ebbed out, when the whole getting-nude-and-masturbate-performance became a routine to her. She began to relax, became confident in the process and her acting, got better at playing along and even began to bargain and make demands. She readily undressed in her private shows and didn’t even flinch, when guys for example asked how much gold she wanted in return for forcing two or more fingers inside her small hole. Even her virgin sphincter became a subject for negotiation. It was just a matter of money.

After this, her earnings slowly dropped, as less and less asked her for private shows. She had become a professional, her work was a routine, and in the eyes of her regular guests, she had lost her valuable innocence and therein the very thing that made her stand out compared to the other webcam models.

For a time, she felt like she was the studio manager’s favourite, but as her popularity with her visitors waned, so did his favour of her. At times, he would talk to her and make her laugh, often leaning close to her and place his hand on her shoulder or lower back, however, this became less and less frequent after the decline in her earnings.

It was during this frustrating decline that Valeria for the first time experienced the strange sensation. It confused her and sometimes made her feel vulnerable and uncertain. Other times it made her feel extremely dirty and depraved...

A guy, who had visited her a couple of times, asked for a private show, which she readily obliged to. She remembered him as friendly and well spoken, but he obviously had a thing for young girls and even hinted at a fetish for girls, who were too young. Valeria didn’t want to judge and usually just played along. Unlike earlier, however, the guy wanted to do cam-2-cam with her, and he quickly made her undress for the camera. She was about to ask him, if he wanted her to play with herself for him, when he pulled out his cock and cut her off with a demanding tone. She immediately fell silent, as he commanded her to get on all fours with her back to him and just listen to his voice.

Of course, she had often played along with other visitors’ fantasies of her being their slave, their little girl and similar wishes, but this felt different for some reason. With his deep voice, he told her to place both her hands on her back and imagine that her wrists were tied together with rope, and she obediently did what she was told.

He then told her in detail, how young and helpless she looked to him, how easy it would be to take advantage of her in that position. That she probably was getting wet from being his unwilling sex toy. She really did, she realised, much to her confusion. From that point, she just listened, as he slowly and meticulously described his fantasy of using her against her will, filling her with his seed again and again.

When he had finished, he asked her to turn around and look at him. He was a big man, slightly overweight, with dark eyes and big hands, and he intently told her that she was his personal slut now. Then he disconnected. Valeria sighed loudly, as if she had been holding her breath for the full show.

Quickly she covered the camera, threw herself back at the bed and placed her fingers at the burning hot centre between her legs. With an unprecedented fury, she made herself cum harder than she’d ever done before. This experience was a turning point for her.

She entered her mom’s apartment and quickly grabbed a piece of bread before escaping to her room. With any luck, her mother wouldn’t have noticed that she was back home. Like she didn’t take notice of a great deal of other things.

Like her daughter’s tuition debt. Valeria’s mother was probably aware that her daughter was required to pay tuition fees to study, but she was most likely oblivious to how difficult it was for her to make the payments. Moreover, what she did to pay off this debt.

Much to her despair, she had received an official letter from the school the other day regarding her debt. She knew that she was behind with payments, but was surprised that the tuition office would react this soon. They threatened to expel her from school, if she didn’t make a substantial down payment before the end of the month, and she had no idea how to come up with such an amount of money with such short notice.

Under no circumstance could she ask her mother or family for help. They would humiliate her, lecture and accuse her for being naïve and not living right. Moreover, they would be very reluctant to help, if it meant that she became so educated and accomplished that she could move away from her mother.

Taking a loan in the bank wasn’t an option either. She had nothing to put as security for the money, and the high interest rate would destroy her financials long after the initial loan had been paid back. In addition, she knew this would only be a short-term solution covering this particular down payment. More would come, and considering her income, she would probably end up in this situation again.

She briefly considered if it would help to raise the price for her shows at the studio, but she quickly dismissed it. The last thing she needed was her regular visitors leaving her because of the price, and it certainly wouldn’t help her attract new ones.

Valeria’s thoughts wandered to one possible visitor, the middle-aged man on the bus, and she couldn’t help herself imagining that he had met her on the bus just after he had watched her through her webcam. What would he be thinking about her? What if he had approached her?

The man would probably expect her to be easy, to be a slut, because she was an exotic performer. It was a common prejudice held by men, and this would most likely make him more confident in approaching her. She knew that she would reject him outright and make it very, very clear that she didn’t want to indulge him.

However, what if he followed her to her doorstep and figured out that she was living with her mom? He could reveal his knowledge about her working as a webcam model to her and threaten to share his insight with her mom. Of course, he could be bluffing, but she couldn’t risk that gamble. It would be a huge scandal, if her mother found out that she was doing nude shows for money.

She would at least have to listen to his terms, but in reality, she wouldn’t have much of a choice, if she didn’t want her mother or family to know about her secret. She wondered if he would drag her into a dark alley and feel her up, open her jacket, open her pants and slip his hand inside her small panties. Molest her young body with his warm, adult hands.

From watching her on cam he would already know that she was shaven down there. She would be almost as smooth as a baby with only a hint of stubbles since she was shaven the same morning. One thing she was certain of: she wouldn’t be able to control her body’s reaction to the molestation and to the older pervert she would seem to be extremely willing towards his hungry advances.

She would become very horny and wet. She would seem like a very wanton slut to him, as her young sex would make his fingers slick with her girl’s juices and readily accept them inside. In reality, she would be terrified, fearing he would injure her or even kill her after he had had his way with her. Again, she would be overwhelmed by the weird sensation she experienced at the studio.

This sensation confused her. Especially outside work, where she ought to keep things apart. It was the feeling of being helpless, in a man’s power and having to accept whatever he wanted. After that first time, she only rarely experienced this at work during her shows. It required a trigger, something that created a transition between her secure model’s room at the studio and the real world outside it.

A trigger, such as the real threat of someone telling her mom about her being a nude model.

She had to be honest with herself. After discovering this excitement about being in a man’s power, she often fantasized about it. Sometimes at work, when she closed her eyes and tried to get in the mood in front of the camera, but most often at home at night, when she lay in her bed beneath the covers and moaned silently, while her fingers drew circles around her sensitive button.

Her fantasies were not unlike her thoughts about the man from the bus. Drawing upon real life situations and spicing them up made the fantasies more realistic and made her heart beat faster. Often, it was about that point, when her imaginary dominator decided to claim her completely by pushing his hard member into her, that she started climaxing. It was always better than before she discovered her preference for these fantasies.

This time was no different. In her mind, the man from the bus was not satisfied with just feeling her up, but turned her roughly around to face the wall and began undoing his buckle. When he forced his way into her from behind, a strained gasp escaped her lips and the orgasm conquered her. Again, she lay there in her room, spent and weak from her perverted fantasies.

The next day, Valeria decided to ask her boss for a meeting to discuss her financial problems. Maybe he had a clever solution, she hadn’t thought of. In any case, it would be nice to have someone to share her frustration with.

As it happened, she made a dismal earning that day. Shows were few and far apart, and most were very short. She had one cam-2-cam-session, which only lasted for two minutes and mostly consisted of the guy cumming copiously over himself, after Valeria removed her top. This was not unusual, and she felt conflicted, as she on one hand wanted to continue and make more money. On the other she was happy not having to do something weird or painful to satisfy her visitors.

As her shift ended, she tidied up the room for the next model and went to see her boss. In the hallway, girls streamed about, some talking about the day’s work, others just hurried to get home. To get away. Valeria knew that she by far wasn’t the model at the studio, who fulfilled the weirdest or most advanced of their visitors’ wishes. She had heard horrible stories of performances, which involved both piss, faeces and even blood.

And these were just the physical acts. Other times, some girls had to endure hours of demeaning treatment, being paid to accept and even encourage visitors to treat them like garbage, to call them despicable names and play along with their hateful, misogynistic games.

A select few, however, claimed to never have removed a single piece of cloth from their bodies. They just chatted with their visitors, taking part in long, personal conversations, making friends and offering company. To Valeria, it sounded wonderful, and she was in awe that these non-nude models had the determination to stay true to their own morals and integrity. To avoid degrading themselves. But the truth was that these models earned very, very little, and rumour was that most of them at some point had been undressing in front of the camera after all.

Valeria could clearly feel how this line of work had affected her self-confidence and her image of herself in general. Always being treated like an item, like a thing, used by her visitors for their pleasure. But she chided herself, telling herself to stop whining. That she was having an easy time. Compared to those other models, at least. Some of them had been working like this for many years, three or more, and she thought she could see the resignation deep in their eyes, when she passed them in the hall.

If one didn’t know, one wouldn’t guess that the many girls – mostly young and pretty – streaming in and out of the small studio rooms, were in fact exotic models. Of course, some of them wore beautiful, expensive clothes and would stand out in the city picture, but most were dressed plain and everyday-ish. Valeria belonged to the majority, not dressing to impress, but usually wore simple jeans or tight-fitting leggings with a t-shirt or blouse.

This, of course, changed, when the models entered the rooms and turned on their cams. Every girl had her own sets of clothes, and while some only wore next to nothing on cam, others were fully dressed in their everyday clothes, until they were paid to strip.