It was a game at first. She was never going to fuck any of those men online, just tease them. It was empowering, how horny they got, how desperate they were for her. She had never felt so alive.

Some of them were assholes who called her names but she found she even liked that. When they told her to dress like a little girl, even that left her wet, if very ashamed. And through it all, she couldn’t stop touching herself.

It was an addiction. Of sex, attention, and even control. At first, that mattered the most, but it was quickly lost as she cared less about how the men treated her and just that they wanted her. She slowly escalated, performing on command, slapping her tits for them, sucking her thumb, or calling them Daddy. And things like college started to matter less and less to her. Those moments felt dull, gray, and colorless. Every moment her roommate was gone, her laptop would be open and she would be performing.

Within a few months, she had left the dorm and got a room with another girl who worked midnights. Money sent by some of her fans helped her pay for a place. She really needed a job, but gifts sent to a PO Box helped her get by. She started missing classes and then, she met him.

He wasn’t like most of the other men online. He didn’t pathetically ask, he didn’t bark orders. He spoke in clear and simple sentences that sounded like he was asking but felt like they were orders. If she refused, he didn’t call her names or insult her. Instead, he wouldn’t call her by his pet names for her. Somehow, that hurt more. Being called Miss Allison instead of bunny, baby girl, or doggie bothered her. It was the tone. Allison or Miss Allison wasn’t spoken with praise or love. The others were. And she started to desperately crave that praise and love.