Daphne's Messy Secret, Part 1

Daphne's Messy Secret, Part 1
Story by JimmyGarcia

explicit masturbation female exhibitionism marshmallow fluff cake batter

Posted 6 days ago 257 views

Daphne's Messy Secret, Part 1: New Job, New City, Same Slut

It was funny to think of how long I had spent blending foundation and BB cream all over my face earlier in the morning, only to wind up scrolling through my phone to find which clips reduced that same face to a chocolate-slathered, moaning mess once the sun had set.

I grinned at the screen while I stood there in the dark of my own backstage world. I was listening to Knee Socks dressed only in--knee socks.

Arctic Monkeys always fit the vibe. Seductive, broody, bittersweet, and conflicted. Great for me to phase back into the reality of being a normal person after I got into the Minx persona while still enjoying the strange midpoint between the two aspects of my double life. After all, I wasn't like the other girls. My flavor of self-hatred never went away no matter how much attention I got. But the combination usually made my head spin and my pussy leak.

The knee socks? They sculpted my tight legs and added a nice taper. Plus, the kitchen flooring was cold. They also helped with recovering circulation between my legs anytime I engaged in marathon sessions with my favorite fuck-toys.

-Media Maker: Media Import complete for ORGASMIC HOUSE TOUR-

I'd already stayed up far longer than I had expected. It was almost midnight, and my new job was set to start in less than ten hours, yet there I was only starting to edit the video I had spent the evening recording. It could have been faster if my laptop weren't practically a relic after years of intensively editing my sexcapades.

I was standing naked in the middle of the kitchen. The laptop sat on the counter with my phone hooked up to it. My right hand was busy tabbing between programs while the other finished toweling down the remaining drops of water that trailed from my neck down the rest of my back--a slight deviation from my usual, smuttier, one-handed editing routine.

Being in the middle of a quiet, spacious, and empty space, just wearing a towel on my head and socks was surprisingly cozy. Especially since the only light sources in the room were the laptop gleaming blue over my face and the distant orange glow from the light above the stove. Extra moody.

Perks of actually living alone. No more prying raccoon eyes from Harper or obnoxiously loud noises from the apartments next door. I get to just chill here in the dark, the main character in my own personal noir film. I'd say a smoke machine would really make the scene, but I doubt this town even has a place where I could get one.

The billboard at the outskirts of town welcomed me two days ago: "St. Joseph: A Special Place on the Lake". The cobblestone monument sign, marking the Magnolia Glade subdivision, guided me to the newly built rental. The plate of cookies the leasing agent left on the counter, along with the Meijer gift card were the checkered flags.

Sorry Dad, I ain't at racing at The Indy 500. Instead of fulfilling his dreams of having a "sporty" daughter, I was busy running a qualifier for something else; the best stage in any woman's life before she makes it to her thirties. The race to find any meaning or self-worth before the world stops caring. In my case, when the internet forces me to change the tags on my videos and call myself a "MILF" regardless of whether I have a kid or not. (Probably not)

*Click*

I opened the project file and glanced through the imported clips, making sure none got corrupted or had mic issues. No matter how depraved my videos got, the fans will pause, timestamp, and complain about any artifacting or audio mismatching. I can't hate it too much, though. The fun comments tend to ratio out the complainers.

*11:34 PM*

"Just thirty minutes."

That was the lie I mumbled to myself while I edited. It was the same one I had told myself when I started prepping for my video around 8 or so, basically when the movers finally left me alone with the house full of boxes.

*Click, Click*

After the quality check, I dropped the clips onto the actual timeline. The laptop seemed to lag a bit, but that usually happened when I imported my videos.

*Click, Click, Click*

Seeing my pale nudity in the thumbnails as I had pieced my scenes together never got old, doubly so when the mess starts. The tiny movements and my gradual transformation displayed across the frames on the timeline could have been its own art piece, if I do say so myself.

At this point though, seeing my body just naked on a digital screen was kinda normal for me. I'd been guarding the secret of my online whoredom for a good while, even before I took the wild step of creating a permanent online persona as an anonymous messy masochist of sorts.

Around the end of my senior year in high school, I was just a bored gal, fresh from my first break-up, just turned 18 after 17 years of emotional neglect, new iPhone, and full internet access.

Turns out, all those were prime qualifiers that gave me the lucky chance of earning an entry-level position. The job was my first step as I descended the online ladder of men's sexual gratification.

"Teen Slut", Virtual, part-time, overnight hours. No benefits, pay was non-existent, but I learned that I really enjoyed getting paid by exposure. Much to the displeasure of my dignity and any semblance of healthy attachment.

Nude mirror selfies and self-shot videos taken in the hall bath, back home in Vincennes, once everybody else was asleep.

I'd post using a throwaway account on those "gone wild" forums. My head was cropped out --Vincennes was too small for me to chance anyone learning about my whoring around online-- but my body was always in full, high definition view.

When I would post, I'd leave the thread up long enough to gather a dozen or so comments. After that, I would finger-blast myself under the cover of my sheets while my hand scrolled and my mind fantasized based on all the goofy or raunchy shit people said. Once the creeps started posting their own faces or asking for my actual information, the thread and my throwaway account disappeared.

Rinse and repeat. Forget weed, meth, or stealing forties from the local minimart. Dopamine from each time I was called a "slut" or a "whore", the imaginary eyes, and attention from the internet made the glands in my brain glow red-hot, and the glands between my legs leak out.

For better or worse, my early days of online whoredom never exceeded fifty comments per post. It was a pretty fun gig while it lasted though. As much as I love the consistency of having a regular fanbase now, the fast-paced throwaway style was kinda fun.

Once I received my college acceptance letters, I started the next phase of my life and finally got the chance to get out of the sticks. With my scholarship in hand from IUPUI, I packed up and moved to Indianapolis.

I was the small-town girl in the big city. All alone, living away from home for the first time. I found a job at the university library to support myself like the other independent college girls. Unlike the rest of them though, I had gotten a promotion for my online double life and upgraded to the next tier of porn tag: "College Co-ed."

I snapped nude selfies between classes or took advantage of empty library study rooms with a 7-inch silicone study buddy. It was fun for a while. I still posted from anonymous throwaway accounts but didn't escalate to anything real slutty until I started dating around.

Sorry Mom. Sorry God. 21 wasn't the first time I got drunk, but it was the first time I had posted a video of myself getting fucked on the internet.

"College slut loses virginity during hazing."

That post was the first time I received more than 100 comments on a throwaway. Rookie numbers compared to the engagement I get now. Everything in the title was a lie except for the "slut" part. It was a 30-second video, my boyfriend at the time, fucking me doggystyle on the couch. The sex itself was pretty boring, but the comments made my mouth and pussy dribble. Pretty sure all those randos made me cum way more than that guy ever did.

On top of being my first and only co-ed scene (so far), it was the first post that I decided to keep up. The comments continued to pile on, and my need for attention just grew from there. If you were ever bored enough, you could probably still find it posted on r/IndianapolisGoneWild.

Despite the high I rode (literally) from that post, I took the rest of my college academics seriously. As much as I enjoyed whoring around on the web, the "trashy-bimbo-drop-out" vibe wasn't really my style. Besides, I'm a brunette. That kind of aesthetic was better for blondes or girls who use box dye to turn their hair into various crayon colors. I was a classy slut.

"Kinky-girl-next-door" fit me a lot better, and that title needed the grades to back it up and the agency to have a proper career to sacrifice once I got married. Whenever that happened.

*CLICK*

Marriage is overrated anyway. Once somebody knows you inside and out, it kinda kills the fun. Life's more exciting when nobody knows what you're really into. Especially when the world just thinks that I'm your average white girl with a white-collar life.

11:55 PM

"Ok." I giggled at my laptop screen.

I had thought that I might actually finish editing and then have the opportunity to post my video before it got way too late. So much for trying to keep it short. I don't have anyone else I can really blame though. My housewarming party went into a little overtime.

I'd say it was the first time I actually enjoyed a party, even though I was the only one in attendance.

Kind of, I guess. If I count the tripod, the ring light, and my dildo, technically, there was a crowd! Although once the video is uploaded on my website, I guess the fans can count.

17,134 Views

That was the count on MessyMysteryMinx.com last week, when I checked it right before the move. Each one was a unique viewer, validated by IP address.

I wanted to check it again on the first day I moved in, but the internet wasn't hooked up yet. I would have checked it on my phone, but as great as I was at most things, web design wasn't one of them.

With the code I copied from GitHub, my site ran perfectly fine on desktop, but apparently, it didn't compress the media files properly when used on mobile. I found out the hard way on my first night.

A couple of fans did mention that problem in the comments every once in a while, but most of the ones that did were usually one-off users. I normally only cared about the ones who ogled at me anyway.

I only had about 40-50 regular fans that popped up in my feed. Their comments always made me laugh or helped push me over the edge. Either way, the engagement was fun, and I looked forward to what they had to say about my little house tour.

I'm sure they'll care about the new granite countertops in my kitchen, and how well my suction cup dildo stuck onto them. Personally, I thought it was pretty cool, even if I had a couple of hiccups.

The stupid pendant lights meant that I had to duck down while I rode my silicone friend in a cowgirl position.

And considering that I was only wearing a smile-

*CLICK*

-and a post-production censor bar over my eyes, my bare knees that skidded along the counter as I fucked myself taught me how difficult that endeavor can be. Thank god I'm still in my mid-20s. I don't think a middle-aged Daphne would appreciate explaining that problem to the orthopedist. maybe if he was hot.

Still came though. Lesson learned, riding cowgirl on the countertop is not good for tall girls.

The gorgeous bay window in the living room was a different story. That glass box faced the lawn and the evening solitude outside.

As much as I wanted to finger-fuck myself facing the world outside the glass, my house was the only one occupied in an otherwise vacant cul-de-sac. I really doubt that the sea of "For Rent: Ackerman Realty" signs that dotted the vacant houses around me would have cared for the whore showing off to the empty street.

The window and the darkness outside still added to the vibe though. It framed my body perfectly as a mysterious backdrop as I faced the camera while I lounged on the bench and fingered myself to a quick and much cozier orgasm.

As exciting as those two snippets were, they were just little warm-up sessions before the finale.

The last part of my video was a baking segment. A little homage to the beginnings of MessyMysteryMinx. I hosted it in my new spacious master bath, inside my large square bathtub, rather than the dinky apartment kitchen from the first video I had made. Goodbye dated oak cabinets, hello jewel mosaic bathroom tile.

Some comments from my first baking video asked about the actual recipe I used. I felt it would be appropriate to actually include the ingredients along with the recipe as the description for the newest upload.

*CLICK, CLICK*

I minimized the video editor as it started to export and opened Word. It took a while to load again, but I was a bit distracted to notice.

***
Finally at my new house! Hope you all like my lil house tour with a special "baking" video at the end. Since you guys asked for the recipe last time, I figured to go ahead and write one up this time.

Minx's Chocolate Delight!

1 bucket filled with chocolate cake batter
2 mixing bowls filled with vanilla buttercream frosting
1 teak wood shower stool
1 adjustable tripod
1 iPhone 12 (or any recording device)
1 MessyMysteryMinx (naked)
1/4 assorted Cluster B traits
1 silicone dildo (optional but preferred)

Step 1.
Gather all ingredients on a mini table beside the tub, ensuring that they are in arms reach. Setup tripod on bathroom counter to capture full view of entire space. Turn off all bathroom lights except for the overhead light above the tub. Set iPhone to record and place on tripod. Place the stool in the middle of the tub. Lube and lick 9 inch silicone dildo. (Looking toward camera recommended)

Step 2.
Minx steps inside of the tub. Sit on the stool in the middle, facing the camera with legs spread. While sitting, take the silicone dildo and gently rub around the labia until wet and horny, 2 to 3 minutes. Next retrieve the first bowl of frosting, take one scoop of vanilla frosting and smear across the face until fully covered. Continue with dildo rubbing on labia, 1 minute.

Step 3.
Pause dildo rubbing. Retrieve the bucket of cake batter and place it on the wide rim of the tub, ensuring that the bucket is within distance of the neck. With both hands, stir the bucket to loosen and resolve clumps. With one hand, resume dildo rubbing for 30 seconds then proceed with insertion into vagina. Simultaneously, dunk head into the bucket of batter, 1 min. Once head and neck fully coated remove from the bucket, moan and exhale while dildo continues pumping between legs.

Step 4.
Pump dildo faster, allowing the silicone dildo head to rub against the g-spot. Then grab the additional bowl of frosting and with free hand, scoop and smear across the upper body until breasts, stomach and shoulders fully coated. Pause dildo fucking.

Step 5.
With two hands, raise the bucket over head and pour over body. Ensure all contents oozed and drizzled over the body until heavily coated. Toss the bucket onto the bathroom floor and with both hands, proceed with smearing batter all over body. Ensure even and total coverage of all areas, 2 min.

Step 6.
Resume dildo fucking and vigorously pump toy into vagina. Free hand can continue smearing batter and frosting mix all over body. Occasional nipple pinching recommended for added sensation. Continue until first orgasm, 3 minutes.

Step 7.
After the first orgasm, giggle and laugh towards the camera until breathing catches back up. While staring at the reflection in the mirror behind the tripod, ruminate on fantasy of invisible crowd watching or future fans witnessing self-degradation. Oops didn't mean to write that

Step 8.
Remove the stool and place it on the floor in front of the tub. Next lay and roll the body around the mixed ooze of frosting and batter inside the tub. Ensure appearance and features thoroughly slathered under layers of dripping mess. While laying on back in the shallow ooze of the tub, resume masturbation, preferably using dildo while rubbing the clitoris, until a second orgasm is reached or until tired. 4-10 minutes. Excessive breathing and moaning recommended.

Step 9.
After a second orgasm or once tired, rise from the tub. Wave towards the direction of the camera with a cheesy-ass smile.

MMM

***

In hindsight, it read more like a summary. Oh well. I don't think the fans would mind.

*Ding!*
-OrgasmicHouseTour.mp4 finished exporting. File ready to share!-

I grinned at my laptop, elated to share my latest update and to get the last dopamine hit that would finally let me ease out of being Minx, back to the woman who was supposed to have the verisimilitude of a normal life and get some sleep before my first day.

12:06 AM

I was so close. I just had to log in, copy my post description, attach the newest file, read the new comments, orgasm, and then bedtime.

"Mhmm." A moan escaped my mouth as one of my hands gently caressed the moistened lips between my legs. My middle and ring fingers led the way and parted the moistened folds while my thumb slowly circled my clit.

Meanwhile, my other hand continued operating my laptop and tabbed into the browser and typed out my next destination.

MessyMysteryMinx.Com

34,121 Views!

"Oh!" I muttered as my two fingers mirrored my excitement and easily slipped inside my wet pussy.

Squelch!

"Fuck!" My voice echoed around the kitchen as my legs weakened while my fingers continued working between my legs.

For a whole minute, all I did was stare at the number while more moans slipped out of my mouth and increasingly obscene squelching noises echoed in the darkness below me.

Elation, arousal, curiosity, and concern. All of it continued to loop around my head.

Somehow, within a week, my site's views doubled! Like, completely doubled!

My mouth loosed a chuckling moan while my fingers tap danced inside of me.

How did I get so popular all of a sudden?

Did someone spoof my counter?

I tried to rationalize the huge jump in views, but as I scrolled through my home page, my mind was taken to much dirtier places. Each post suddenly showed hundreds of new comments. Hundreds!

"Holyfuck!" The back of my legs started to burn as I continued masturbating while I stood.

Despite being exhausted and ready for bed, all the new attention riled me up. I was supposed to be in control, but Minx was feeling ravenous and compelled my fingers to rub my G-spot much harder.

I wanted to read each new comment, welcome all the new fans, and most importantly, show off my new house and show off the cake I made!

With a rapid set of clicks from my other hand, I went from the new post section then back to the Word document that had my description and title.

Copy and paste, voila! Then I clicked and dragged the exported file into the attachments. The screen froze after I copied, but it initially went back to normal after a couple of seconds.

I slammed the enter key and watched the loading bar fill. My fingers eagerly tapped the laptop as I anticipated reading the comments while I enjoyed my solo after-party with all the new viewers after my video premiered. The inner walls of my pussy were still sore, but my fingers didn't care. I wanted to continue to rub and finger myself raw till I passed out.

But instead, the screen just froze again, even though my hand was still dragging along the pad.

Wordless mutterings of excitement and moans were replaced with annoyed groans and huffs as I waited for my laptop to respond. My hand that had been flittering with my pussy paused as I stared at the frozen clock on the screen.

 12:11 AM 

I just needed to see all the new comments and have my orgasm, but instead, the piece of shit decided to display a big blue middle finger on the screen.

 INACCESSIBLE_BOOT_DEVICE (0x0000007B) 

A fucking blue screen.

All I did was laugh. It was a funny prank from the universe, but a restart usually fixed these kinds of things.

 INACCESSIBLE_BOOT_DEVICE (0x0000007B) 

Annoying as it was, I still had a giggle or two. I knew holding the power button when I restart usually seems to help. Besides, I plugged in the power cord this time. Maybe that was gonna make a difference?

 INACCESSIBLE_BOOT_DEVICE (0x0000007B) 

Apparently, the issue is kinda common based on the articles I found when I looked it up on my phone. All I need to do is open the boot menu and let the computer run a diagnostic-

 INACCESSIBLE_BOOT_DEVICE (0x0000007B)

I slammed the laptop shut and grumbled to myself for a bit. I was pissed at my computer, but felt more annoyed since I was getting so close to my last orgasm for the night.

After a couple of minutes and a glass of water, I tried to recompose myself as I made my way to the bedroom and left the laptop. My hands felt heavy and sweaty all at once. As I stomped down the hall, I had the compulsion to sprint and run away from what was coming.

The internet called it "Sub-drop". In short, according to some randoms on a bondage forum, the brain doesn't react well to extended sessions of degradation, humiliation, or pain. Even if artificial or self-inflicted. Since people aren't supposed to get aroused by those things, hormones in the mind get confused when deviants like me simulate them just to have an orgasm.

According to those same forums, most people just get really depressed or fragile, but it can be avoided. For me, I found that when I don't take it slow or follow my routine to get back to reality, the damned thing between my ears decides to trigger some kind of identity crisis rather than getting sappy. Either way, when it happened, my brain refused to release any dopamine. No matter how much I tried to rub or fuck myself out of it, the damned thing refused and just peppered my thoughts with doubt, questions, and all those other dumb things I usually kept shut away.

I personally called it my "slutistential crisis". Surprisingly, getting off on humiliating myself on camera for thousands to see had consequences when I didn't handle it properly. Booo.

Having one last orgasm after my shows always acted as the way for Minx to pass the baton back to me and avoid that whole "drop" fiasco. Having an exhibitionistic masochist running my body during day-to-day life wasn't a good idea, especially when I was trying to keep that side of me a secret.

"Deep breath, deep breath," I whispered to myself as I paced into my bedroom.

Normally, on the days when I record my "content", I form contingency plans. Walks, late-night joyrides, and watching comfy reruns were my typical backups if I got emotionally dysregulated back then. Walking and joyriding at night was fun in Indianapolis, but St. Joseph was lights out by 8:00, and those comfy reruns happened to be on the same hard drive that just crashed.

For better or worse, the day had gone well prior to that glitch. Well enough that I got a bit carried away with my optimism and assumed that I could end it on a high note, and didn't consider what I would do if something like this had happened.

The movers had arrived early and unloaded with no issues. The internet guy wired my new gigabit line with no problem, and Harper only violated HIPAA laws once as she told me all about the nasty shit at her new job in South Bend. My family actually responded when I said I made it up here! I should have known it was too good.

I always assumed Sub-drop was a form of karma or some other kind of divine law. A cosmic consequence for those who pushed themselves too far. If there were a god, they had a really funny sense of humor. I worked hard to stave off a lifetime of insecurity by being pretty and smart, then had the best orgasms ever when I threw all that prestige and pride into messy orgasmic abandon.

A warm yellow light welcomed my naked body after I stepped into my closet, and yet I felt way more exposed when I left it wearing my sleep clothes.

My feet thumped around as I paced my room. I should have been in bed, but Minx wanted me to try and fix my computer now or go out and buy a new one. The command to force myself to slip under the covers was trying to get in line but sadly, it arrived late, stuck behind the long line of negative thoughts that jammed ahead.

What was the point of actually exposing and degrading myself if nobody was even going to see it?

What if all those new fans just stop caring?

How old were those new comments anyway?

After a splash of cold water on my face finally cleared the queue, my body eventually relented to my commands and slipped into bed.

The moon shone a brilliant silvery spotlight on my face as I lay there in my covers and stared out through the window. I should have thanked it for giving me such great lighting while I tried to push away my slutsistential dread.

My focus bounced all around as I tried to keep myself composed. I just needed any kind of reassurance to put out the burning insecurity, the self-doubt that coalesced between me and the Minx persona.

When my usual solutions didn't help, humor fixed it last time, courtesy of Harper and her typical prodding when she knew I was hiding something. Sadly, I was too pretty to be funny. I opted to melodramatically brood instead.

I imagined, maybe if I had risen from bed and started monologuing there in my bedroom about all my insecurities, the audience would reveal themselves from the darkness of the world outside.

The invisible crowd and the imaginary camera crew that had been watching me the whole time I was here could finally show themselves and tell me how good a whore I had been and how it was ok for me to go back to being the normal girl. The one who was supposed to be making a name for herself in her next chapter of white-collar suburbia.

I giggled at the idea as I stared out at the empty street outside. Odd as it was, zooming out and imagining myself as the main character in my own play actually helped. I always told people that being a bit narcissistic wasn't all bad.

It wasn't the best, and it definitely just inflated my own ego, which only made it worse when Minx was ready to mess that up and post it online. But it had to do, just so I could try to squeeze some sleep.

Deep breaths and delusions. It's all I could do to self-soothe, and it's what I did. I didn't have the time or patience to make the computer work tonight, but I could and should just focus on my work for tomorrow. How I was gonna do that, I'd find out once I could actually fall asleep.

Minx was the secret; I was the surface. Minx wasn't going to make anybody proud, no matter how much attention she attracted, and people usually don't cheer for amateur fetish camgirls.

That's what I muttered and repeated to myself as I stared out at my imaginary audience in the endless void, as the night grew darker, and as my silvery spotlight traveled along the sky.

________

"Morning and welcome to Starbucks. What can I get for you today?" The chipper male voice blared out from the glowing LCD screen beside my face.

"Hi! Can I just get a tall vanilla latte with two shots, blonde?"

"Of course! Anything else?"

"Nope!"

"Go ahead and pull around."

"Damn Daffy, you were-"

"Shhh, one sec Harp." I turned away from the screen and chastised the imp that blared through my car's Bluetooth system.

My face snapped back to the drive-thru panel, then I smiled and waved at the tiny bubble-lensed camera as my car pulled away from their view, and most importantly, away from the mic.

Harper grumbled at me through the car speaker that entire time after I shushed her. She was doing her best impression of my voice, albeit with a mocking mousey tone. Typical short girl behavior.

"Ok we're good now." I started. "Anyway-"

"Nuh uh bitch. You just shushed me!" Harper snapped back.

"Yeah! Their mics have cameras and you would have said some crazy shit!"

"Ohhhh, so now you're shy in front of a camera."

"Harp!"

She cackled at me, but I wasn't upset. Harper wasn't wrong. I just had to keep my own laugh quiet, so she didn't get too excited.

"You done yet?" I said as her laughter subsided.

"Not exactly."

"Well, thanks for proving my point."

"No prob Daffy. What are friends for?"

I knew she meant nothing by it. It was just one of her usual quips. But the combination of dysregulation from last night and the shitty sleep that followed left me to actually ponder the history of my friendships before Harper skittered into my life.

Pretty girls like me rarely had friends. "Smart" girls assumed I was dumb and vapid, while the other "pretty" girls saw me as a threat. The boys were simple. They either wanted to fuck or pretended that they didn't want to fuck. Being 6'3 made all of it worse, but it guaranteed that no matter what, all eyes were always on me.

I wanted to throw back that novel of angst as my reply to Harper. But sincerity and honesty weren't the vibe that morning.

I only got two hours of sleep, and I needed to be on autopilot. My conflicted brain rolled the wheel of responses onto the stage in front of my panel of personalities, then gave it a great big push as it spun. Was the needle gonna land on stonewalling? Canned empathy? Redirection?

"I'll let you know when I find one," I finally said back.

Ding ding ding! Backhanded humor!

"You keep that up and you'll really have a hard time finding one!" Harper jibed back.

We continued going back and forth humorously until I finally got to the window and received my drink. Afterwards, I pulled out of the store and made my way towards the office.

"So, are you nervous?" Harper asked.

"Not really, just ready to finally start and get acquainted."

"Uh huh."

"What?" I said with a raised brow.

"You only get double shots when something's up. Otherwise, it's strawberry acai."

I paused for a second while my brain rolled the wheel again. Ding ding ding! Half-truth.

"Try, barely getting any sleep?"

Harper didn't buy it, but it's all I was selling. She continued prodding, but I deflected enough until I found the quaint red brick building that was labeled Berrien County Admin Center.

"Anyway, gotta go, I think I finally found where to park," I said as the car groaned to a stop.

"Same, just got a call from my floor." Harper replied as I heard the static noise of a PA on her end. "ER staff needs assistance. Some YouTuber had a prank that went bad and now all his buddies are harassing the triage team."

"Those people are really getting desperate for content huh?"

"No shit. Anyway, gotta go! Don't get jittery with all that caffeine!"

"Try not to catch an assault charge!"

We shared one last chuckle before the call ended and gave me the reason to step out of my car and into the breezy air.

Three black domes attached to their respective poles around the perimeter watched me as I sauntered on the concrete catwalk towards the office entrance. I winked towards the static paparazzi, the one closest to the door, as I made my way in. Funny thing you learn as an exhibitionist: every place has a camera somewhere. The real fun is making sure that the right camera gets the show while the others don't realize what's going on.

I'd love to say that the first couple hours of orientation were great. But sadly, the office and entire start to the day was everything I expected. Mundane and cookie-cutter, providing little to distract Minx from corrupting my thoughts.

It all started with an introduction and tour from the odd receptionist, Anna. She was dressed in a long plaid skirt topped off with a baggy pink front-button cardigan. A real dime straight off the Kohl's catalogue. She was smaller than I expected, but the anomaly of her voice being a pitch lower than usual made it hard to keep a straight face.

She had a bob cut like mine. Instead of espresso brown hair though, hers was honey blonde and in desperate need of conditioner. She gleamed at the idea of working alongside another "young lady" as she looked up at me while we walked around.

If I were gonna be kind, she was probably in her late twenties. Honestly, not too bad looking. But her letting me know that she was "hella down to chillax" completely boggled any attempt to pinpoint her age or whatever vibe she was trying to push. It only got worse when she picked up her coffee mug that was tattered with quirky stickers.

With a joke and a chuckle at every step, she took me on a pedantic tour of the office. Anna's humor wasn't terrible. Predictable and dated? Absolutely. But I was down for any sparkle of personality amidst the exceedingly dull environment we were trekking through. Several gray and fluorescent rooms later, she guided me towards the section of the office filled with increasingly taller filing cabinets.

"-And this section is the county archive!"

I replied with a minimal nod as she led me towards a corner cubicle that was thankfully parallel to a window. She introduced it as my "office" and pointed towards the humble stack of sheets on the laminate panel desk.

"Those will be your first task, a set of zoning maps that a local group submitted along with archived docs from the Native council-"

I seated myself in the cubicle and shuffled some of the documents in an effort to categorize them but also hoped to signal to her that I was ready to start my work and would appreciate a commercial break from Anna's Variety Hour.

"Usually, your department boss would be the one giving you all the deets-"

BEEP

"Receptionist needed at the front desk." The office PA system interrupted.

"Darn! Gotta blast, but go ahead and review those papers! I'll be back-"

Anna quickly shuffled away as her steps faded down the hall, and I became acquainted with my new three-walled domain.

Believe it or not, I was actually good at this stuff. Who would've known that a childhood of learning how to find other people's insecurities so I can make fun of them or find a way to control them would give me pattern recognition and analysis skills? Eat your heart out, Nancy Drew.

I was also great at eavesdropping, but this time, it bit me in the ass while I tried to listen to the mixed voices behind me as I scanned the papers.

"Is that the new archivist over there?"

"Daphne? Yeah, she's Lou's new hire."

"Well, get her picture for the LinkedIn page. The mayor wants us to keep it up since it's got a bunch of new followers now."

That was all it took for Minx to fully awaken my mind again.

In that instant, I was taken back to last night. The anticipation of prepping for my scene, the rising excitement as I filmed, the climaxes, the easing, moody ride back down until the laptop interrupted my descent and threw me headfirst into self-imposed-

"Hey bestie!"

Anna popped up, over my cubicle. Her eyes were always too wide when she spoke.

"Huh- what?" I mumbled.

My thoughts were busy wrestling away the Minx and weren't ready with the canned responses, so the bumbling reaction was all I could muster for the moment. My brain quickly rolled the wheel back out.

"Sorry, I was in the zone. What's the 411?"

The wheel landed on "match the vibe". Normally, I'd be cringing, but since I was talking to that out-of-place artifact, I just rolled with it and added the 1-2 combo of an eyebrow flash and a pointed lip grin.

"We're gonna be gellin if you keep that up." Anna matched my grin and giggled. Then she finally told me why she had to spook me while I had a minor rerun of my slutsistential crisis.

"Louis emailed mesaid he's available to meet you down the hall in his office in about thirty minutes."

"Do I need to bring anything or should I just-"

"Nah, don't sweat. Although, he did mention that he wanted you specifically to review those papers that were on your desk. Take 'em with, just in case."

Despite her anachronistic and confusing vibe, Anna wasn't too bad. After another joke from her, she pointed me in the direction of his office. It wasn't hard to miss, but she just had to explain that the door that had Louis' name on it was, in fact, Louis' office.

"Don't sweat with him though, he's hella short with his words, kinda hard to impress, but he's dope."

My face was tight as I tried my hardest to avoid giggling. Thankfully she left after dropping all those sweet deets.

Her last bit about impressing Louis, along with the hint that he wanted me to review the notes, piqued my curiosity. If I could focus on just impressing one guy rather than an infinite crowd of anonymous ones, maybe I could keep myself together.

See, I never understood why, but I really liked impressing people. Especially men. Especially when they thought I was just another pretty face.

Was it related to me being a literal attention whore? Probably. That's what the other girls and ugly guys used to say.

Was it daddy issues? Nope.

My mom and dad were actually present when I grew up. He did work a lot though, but we saw him every weekend.

Sure, he liked tipping a couple back when he was around, and he loved hearing about my brother's varsity sports and how well his other daughters were doing with their grades.

It's okay though, I did a lot of stuff at school too, they just never asked. Or showed up. It's fine though, I was a drama dork and a damn good one at that. The crowds filled the auditorium anytime my name was on the posterboards. Just ignore the fact that our podunk school's auditorium only seated 50 people.

Impressing people and crowds kinda became my specialty. Did I learn it from books? Absolutely not. I hated reading books. Reading people though? You bet. Once I could figure out what people liked, what they hated, what they wanted to hide, I could play them like a fiddle.

And with Anna's little hint, she gave me all I needed to try and re-take control of myself and my day. If anybody was impressing Louis, it was gonna be me. Maybe that little victory would snap me out of my little personality crisis.

With a renewed huff and about 25 minutes left, I started re-filing the papers on my desk. Most of the sheets were standard for the archival process. Old pictures, tables, and dated maps from the 1910s.

Everything was ordinary, but too plain. Every single piece of paper was trimmed clean along each edge, despite being "old" papers. 8.5 x 11 was a bit too corporate even for the 1910's.

The sheets felt much too brittle in certain areas, rather than having a uniform consistency. The most confusing clue I found was the faint smell of coffee from all the documents. Archival sheets usually smelled like old people, cigarettes, or mildew, but never smelled like roasted beans.

"Are these fake?" I muttered out loud in confusion. Was Louis trying to see if I could catch forged papers? Ones stained like a school project no less.

Initially, I shook my head and popped up from my cubicle. I was expecting a hidden camera, Louis or Anna comically peeking around a corner as if to let me in on the joke. But instead, I was just faced with the pitifully grey and slow clockwork of your average government office.

I stuck my hand in the envelope that held the papers and pinched the tag that showed which benevolent millionaire, tax-haven LLC, or historical society sent the documents in.

*Ackerman Ventures Group*

The name sounded familiar. A quick search on my phone helped confirm my assumption.

I found an official website, and it was filled with the same overpriced headshots and names that were on the signs that dotted the neighborhood I had just moved into. I found an ad for my neighborhood and their other future "luxury creekside" developments, whatever that meant.

Why would a realty company forge random archival papers? Historical ones no less. Wouldn't they just fake appraisal values or something?

Before I could deduce any further, I realized that I only had a minute left before Louis was expecting me.

"Shit!" I whispered to myself as I stood and quick-stepped my way along the flat office carpet towards his door.

LEVKA "LOUIS" PETROVICH, MSI
Records Manager

The rectangular, half-frosted window in the middle of the long door wobbled as I knocked on the frame. I smirked at my reflection as I waited for a response. My eyes glimmered with confidence, knowing full well that if he was going to play some kind of game-

"Come in."

My cheeks tightened as I plastered another rehearsed grin on my face. I took one step into the office as I opened the door.

Louis was seated in the middle, but the gumshoe vibe greeted me before he did.

Amber light filtered through tinted windows, and instrumental jazz enveloped me as I stepped in. The gaudy wooden desk, the dangly overhead lamp that floated above it, along with the horizontal shadows from the blinds that painted the rest of the room, stunk of try-hard detective chic. I was surprised that the room wasn't hazy for some reason.

The only things that looked like they came from the 21st century were the computer on his desk, the TV behind him with a static YouTube "Soft Jazz for Work" playlist, and surprisingly, Louis himself.

He was clattering away on a keyboard, there with his messy brown hair and pale, pretty, clean-shaven face.

"Go ahead, get seated." He spoke without looking up at me. "Just finishing...email."

"No rush!" I muttered as I pulled out one of the leather chairs across from his desk.

He was much younger than I expected. The Louis I had spoken with during my phone interview a couple of months ago was very dry in tone, seemed like he hated fun, and loved reading books about submarines.

I had guessed 42. Harper thought 50. We met in the middle at 45 when we couldn't find any social media pages. After seeing him in person, he looked about my age. Somewhere in the mid-20s.

"Almost done." He said.

I gently nodded but took advantage of his attention being drawn by the computer. My eyes darted around the room, looking for clues to answer my own questions and to make sure I could prepare my responses once we spoke.

The diploma on his wall showed a graduation date that was just two years ago. A master's degree too. Child prodigy or just good genes? Maybe he was some kind of Slavic vampire. Hopefully, he didn't sparkle.

His desk was neat, but too clean. No personal items, all standard office clutter. Despite his rolled-out-of-bed hair, his clothing was clearly tailored. Grey herringbone blazer with a slate black V-neck sweater underneath. No wrinkles or loose pet hairs anywhere either.

He only had one accessory. A leather Timex watch, it was set 11 minutes ahead of the actual time. My view moved from his wrist to his hand as I tried my best to catch a glimpse of his ring finger while he typed away. No ring. Single.

"-Married-" Louis grumbled at me as he stopped typing.

"Huh!"

His words snapped me out of my trance as I scanned. When I looked up, my eyes met his. Blue glaciers stared back at me. His thin lips curled to a subtle smile.

"I'm married to my work, forgive the delay."

"Ohhh!.. Yes, I can imagine." I said as my hands gestured towards the stacks of filing cabinets around the room. I tried my best to divert his attention away from my face so I could recompose myself and orient my own facade in response to his.

"It will be your work soon. There will be no need to imagine, Ms. Ridgeley." He quickly looked me up and down then blinked. "Regardless, glad you made it. I hope travel wasn't too bad?"

"Not at all! Indianapolis isn't far. Besides, the movers did all the hard work. I just drove."

"Good. Speaking of work, for orientation-" His eyes quickly broke their gaze and flashed behind me before he continued. "It will be quite short. After our meeting, you will meet with IT and get your work laptop and intranet credentials-"

He continued talking more about my schedule for the day. Unfortunately for him and me, Minx suddenly popped back up from the tomb that I had tried stuffing her into. She noticed his quick up-down look from earlier that he tried to hide between blinks. Additionally, she was eager to get her hands on that new laptop.

"We'll get you trained more next month, but for now I wanted to get your input on a...sticky situation I've been working on."

"The papers! Of course, happy to do what I can-" I started, but Minx finished. "-besides, I'm no stranger to sticky situations."

Louis paused. His glacial glare broke as he blinked twice.

"Glad to hear it. What do you make of those documents?" he continued.

I bit the bottom of my lip as I tried to drag my focus away from the fires that Minx was lighting inside of me. Impress Louis now, and just finish the first day. Then I can go back to being a whore, in private. At least wait until the end of the day! Or after the meeting.

Minx was particularly interested in something Anna mentioned during our tour. All staff bathrooms were single occupancy. The thought made my palms sweat, which forced me to rub them gently along the sides of my slacks as I continued talking.

"Yes.. the papers. They were all uniform. All had the same edges..clean trim."

"Good. Go on."

"They seem altered, like they were intentionally stained with coffee?"

"What makes you say that?"

"The sheets were brittle in a chunky way, like thick drops of liquid collected on the paper as it dried. Besides that, all the sheets reeked of coffee."

He grinned.

"So wait, are they fake? Was that some test?" I said.

"Those papers were.a valid submission." He paused for a noticeable time before he continued. "But I wanted a fresh unbiased perspective to review them."

We sat in silence after his last sentence. I was confused. Unsure of how to reply. He'd been straightforward the whole time, but suddenly he was being coy.

"Well, would it be possible for me to check with-"

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

The noise caused me to jump and made Louis snap to attention at the door behind me. I turned and noticed a tall figure standing behind the glass window on the door.

It was a woman. Her face was obscured by the frosted portion, but the rest was visible through the clear glass. Long raven hair, white blazer, with obnoxiously intentional amounts of cleavage. I should know. My blouse or tops always had three buttons unbuttoned from the top. Hers was easily five to six. Takes a slut to know a slut.

"One moment!" Louis groaned out to the figure.

The door disrespectfully swung wide open. In the doorway, the woman, probably in her early thirties, towered with flowing black hair that piled on the sharp shoulders of her blazer, which matched her white slacks. Her eyes stayed on Louis without even looking at me.

Her tanned face had the most plastic smile I'd ever seen as she bulldozed into the room. Her cross-body "Prada" bag bounced at every step. The last one caused a paper to peek out from the top zipper.

"Levie-kins! Are you trying to hide from me?" she said.

"Kim-Ms. Ackerman, I'm in a meeting. Please step-"

"Title company won't close until this is signed. If I don't get this over in the next hour that's a two-mil closing, down the drain."

Her head snapped towards me with a raised brow for a second before returning to him.

"Just need your little John Hancock at the bottom, then you can get back with your little date." She giggled before she added, "Sorry, your large, John Hancock."

The joke she made was a challenge of sorts. "Pick-me girl" behavior. She was showing me that she had Louis around her finger. Whether she was lying or not, she was trying really hard to prove she was the main character. Typical.

Sadly, the desk blocked me from fact-checking her since it covered him from the waist down.

"Ms. Ackerman, I will get to you after this meeting. She is my new employ-"

"Oh! New girl! Adorable!" She turned to me and extended her hand. "Kimberly Ackerman, Ackerman Realty. You've probably seen our signs around town."

Plastic meets persona. I tried my best to muster a genuine smile even though I wanted to slap her hand away. Though, if I did, her spray tan would've likely stained my hand.

"Yeah! I actually live-"

"Great to hear! I know our marketing is on top of things!" She interrupted, then turned back to Louis. "Anyway-"

At that moment, the TV playing jazz finally stopped. The silence magnified the bickering between Louis and Kimberly as he continued trying to rebuff her while she tried to press him for a signature. I thought the music was dumb, but I had to admit, it did fit the vibe of his office. I'd be a hypocrite if I judged him for that anyway.

I plotted whether or not I should kick the back of her ankles or if I should excuse myself while they went on. Unfortunately, behind them both, YouTube was set to auto-play a random video after the last one ended.

"Yo what's up guys! On today's episode of WTFreak, we found some real messy shit on the internet that you won't believe!" A man rambled as a new video started playing on the TV.

The immediate blare of obnoxious EDM music, along with the YouTuber's excessive energy, forced both Louis and Kimberly to shut up and turn to look at the TV. I stifled a chuckle at the humorous interruption while Louis reached for the remote.

"For this week's first entry, we got a user that sent us this lady's website that blew up on the r/WTF subreddit last week-"

Louis pointed the remote at the TV, but his button presses had no effect. Kimberly and I watched the screen and shared a giggle at the absurd situation. However, my laughter didn't last long.

"Now we censored most of her latest video, but you don't need college to know what this lady be doin!"

I wasn't sure what I was expecting. Maybe right before the clip was gonna play, Louis' remote would finally turn off the TV? It would have been nice. At least, that's what I thought.

Instead, the video transitioned. On screen, it showed a woman, writhing in a large bathtub in a tiled bathroom, unrecognizably coated head to toe with chocolate cake batter. She was naked except for the horizontal bar that tracked her large breasts, which bounced as a censored vertical object repeatedly went perpendicular against the horizontal censor bar between her legs.

It was me, albeit unrecognizable under all the oozing layers of chocolate. It was the video I made last night, albeit with extra censorship that this guy likely added for YouTube. I typically only censored my eyes until I got messy enough to be anonymous. For a second, my first thought was excitement.

It did work! My video uploaded perfectly fine! And it's had time to collect some comments too.

But it only took another second to realize that my new boss and this lady were also watching it. Kim's synthetic mouth stretched a grin as far as the eyes could see, meanwhile Louis's already pale face somehow lost even more color as it turned to a concerning shade of shock. Minx was wondering where all his blood was rushing to.

For better or worse, the humiliating distraction of my anonymous hedonism on screen kept them from realizing how red my face got and how tight my hands gripped my thighs.

"That's just her latest entry, if you look here, she posted a couple months bac-"

*Click*

Silence filled the room after Louis finally unplugged the TV. The only thing that broke the deafening quiet after was the sound of Kim smacking her Botox-soaked lips and the clattering of Louis' oxfords under his desk as he crossed his legs at his knees.

I was still dumbfounded as I sat there and wrapped my head around what had just happened and finally realized what caused the large bump in viewers to my site.

"Well, whoever designed that bathroom had good taste," Kim said as she giggled.

I wanted to respond or retort, or frankly say anything to try and change the mood or deviate to any topic that wasn't related to my fetish porn.

But my brain was just fixed on the name of the channel, along with the supposed threads that were discussing my site. Exactly how many people were talking about me? And what would they be saying?

Without any words from his mouth, Louis clicked a pen and signed off on Kim's paper.

"There. Congratulations on closing. Have a good day Ms. Ackerman."

"You're the best Levie-kins. Dinner's on me next time you want-"

"Don't even... Have a good day." Louis nodded towards the door as he glared at Kim.

She let out a wordless chuckle as she strode back out the door.

"Oh! Hey, new girl!" she said as she stood in the doorway

I snapped my head to look back at her.

"It's Daphne-"

"Hope you like your new house. Welcome to St. Jo!"

And with a thud, her face disappeared behind the door. As she walked away, I couldn't tell if the plastic sounds were from her hips or the insides of her heels.

"I apologize dearly for that interruption."

"No worries, sounds like a lot of money's involved," I replied. My face felt less hot, but instead I could feel the sweat dripping down my back. On top of that, my jaw ached from the cringing as I tried my best to refocus back on work.

"Small towns love big money." Louis replied without looking at me as he shook his head. He pulled out a handkerchief from his desk and dabbed the sweat off his forehead.

He proceeded to discuss a little bit more about his recent project. He wanted me to look into some files that went missing and see the last people who touched the documents. Unfortunately, as he explained his reasoning, my brain had completely allowed Minx to take over.

The dumb video, the people talking about me, and how weird my content is, it was all I could focus on. I felt the moisture start to gather between my legs as I imagined what all those people were saying about me. My mind drifted back to the comments I could remember from my last visit. Every word Louis said went in one ear, got rewired, and then connected with one of the many comments I could recall.

"-Hate to pin you with such a hard task so early-"

SecretGuy1994: want to pin your ass over that counter and show how hard my cock is.

"-Frankly I'm spread thin and the city just sprayed all their money on-"

Anon671: Going to spread your legs and spray my cum all over u

"-local lobbying getting in bed with them and rolling along screwed me-"

PieFan: Love to get in that bed, just roll ur face in the slop and screw your pussy.

My vision got cloudy as Minx's influence fully took over my mind. Louis's voice faded and his figure became a blur as the room seemed to shrink around me. The filth and utter lack of composure from my fans. The needy demands. The wanton desire. All the new potential comments from all the new viewers. I felt my mouth fall slightly open and my hands slowly drift from the outside of my thighs towards the middle-

"Ms Ridgeley!"

"Huh-what?" I moaned as I shook my head. A nervous giggle followed as I gently rubbed the top of my seated thighs. My left hand felt an odd drop of moisture on one leg, but I was too busy trying to compose myself to consider where it came from.

"Are you ok?" Louis said, his icy glare warmed by the crinkle of his brows as he asked like he was actually concerned.

"Y-yeah, I'm good. Sorry, I- uhm." I bit my lip as I tried to think of what to say next as he stared with his now-dilated glacial blues.

While my brain was busy trying to recompose, I felt a line of drool sneak out from the corner of my lip and lazily trail down to my charcoal slacks. Apparently, the second dribble, based on the wet stain already present.

Louis had no words as his eyes followed the dribble of saliva trickle and plop onto my thighs, then back up my face.

"Oh my! I'm so sorry!" I frantically wiped the rest of the drool from my mouth with the frilly edge of my white blouse. "I-I barely slept last night, just excited for this whole job!"

Despite my mouth and brain completely falling apart at that moment, something else happened that I didn't expect, but it did make me feel the slightest flutter in my stomach.

Louis's icy demeanor cracked. His marble white face and glacial eyes relaxed for a moment as he cracked the tiniest giggle on the corner of his lips.

It lasted for like, a couple seconds before he went back to his princely facade.

But the dimples that crinkled around his eyes, along with the tiniest hue of blush that formed on his cheeks, told me enough.

I wanted to kick his desk and slap his stupid, rosy-cheeked face.

I wanted to pour water over the dumb mop of hair that sat on his head.

I needed him to watch my video again and tell me how disgusting and freakish I was, and yet, explain where all the blood went as it drained from his face and how it made his legs cross.

"Happens to the best of us. No worries Ms. Ridgeley."

After he spoke, he offered me a new handkerchief from his breast pocket.

"It's clean and I only use it for times like this."

"Thanks," I said as I took the ornate cloth and dabbed my saliva. "Do you have girls drool in front of you often?" My goal was to redirect, but if it made his rosy cheeks reappear, I wasn't going to complain.

"First time, believe it or not."

We shared a giggle. At that moment, I realized that, since I drooled, he had stopped maintaining full eye contact. Now he was breaking every three to five seconds to look elsewhere before snapping back. His blushing didn't return, but his eyes changing their route would have to do.

"Go ahead and meet with IT upstairs. I'll send you an email with a recap of our meeting today- minus all the interruptions."

With a friendly handshake, Louis gestured me to the door and provided directions: Out the door, immediately left, up the stairs, first room on the right.

Once I got there, I received a new work laptop, a sticky note with logins, a key badge for the office, and a healthy dose of ogling and mansplaining from the IT guys. After I was able to escape their commentary, I returned to my desk and checked the clock. It was about time for lunch.

______

"Mmmmhmmm."

My muffled moan barely echoed as I felt the exposed part of my back, just under the bra strap, start to stick to the tile wall I was leaning on. Nervous drops of sweat rolled down along my bare stomach as my breathing frantically picked up.

Anna told me our lunches were about 30 minutes. I had spent about five minutes in the break room amidst the dull office furniture. The buzzing light above my head had been my only companion while I spooned yogurt into my mouth.

The rest of it was spent here, in one of the single-occupancy bathrooms in a forgotten corner of the building, with my unbuttoned blouse stuffed in my mouth.

"Oh-hmmm."

I bit down on the cotton and tried my best to hide the effects of my middle and ring fingers as they squelched between my legs.

@SteamedIguana001: What a fucking weirdo. Hot af though.

"Mmm-phank-u"

My other hand clutched my phone in front of me as I scrolled through YouTube comments from the video that had played in Louis's office earlier. The screen was a bit shaky since my other hand was busy, but thankfully, most of the comments were short reads.

@1831Alan23: _ I have the weirdest boner right now

"Heh-mmmpph"

Most of the comments from the video were pretty dumb. Some were kinda funny. It really took me back to the good ol' days, when I was just an anonymous "teen slut" rather than an established "amateur solo artist." Since I couldn't access the comments from my own site, they would have to do.

@QuackMcrack: I swear she looks familiar, but I'm too hard to remember.

If anything, the YouTube video and the comments reinforced why this whole messy thing kinda stuck. It fulfilled my need to be an attention whore, without people realizing that it was me. The best part? It also scratched my secret, masochistic itch.

I loved when people thought highly of me, not only because they should, but because the feeling of ruining my entire reputation just to orgasm was eye-wateringly delectable.

Getting messy acted as the perfect simulation of complete hedonistic surrender. A total submission to my desires as my mind descended into wanton lust while my body transformed into an unrecognizable mass.

Yet no matter how deep and messy I got into the depths of my self-degradation, I was only one (usually two) showers away from going back to my carefully crafted, perfect persona.

Whether I had spent an hour dolling myself up and playing up my role as Daphne Ridgeley, the prim and prissy gal from Vincennes that didn't need a man, with her college degree and fancy office job

@ArlanAnnd: HOLY SHIT SO HOT NEED MORE

"Ohhhhhhmmm!"

Or, if I was MessyMysteryMinx, the dirty whore that only dressed herself with different types of sweets all over her body until she was nothing but a filthy, unrecognizable blob that only cared about making herself orgasm

@JungleFever1985: Freaky shit, still came though lmaoo

Men always found a way to objectify me and reduce me to nothing but an icon for their pleasure, for them to cum to.

And I loved it.

The bathroom walls were starting to learn that about me, as my two soaked fingers started pumping faster and faster. My legs repositioned slightly, as best as they could with my pants down around my ankles. I was getting ready for the climax I had been needing since yesterday.

"Myessmmfuck."

And when I caught a glimpse of my disheveled appearance in the mirror, I almost tasted the sweet release. The calming wave of warmth and tingles that could finally lay Minx to rest for the day, so I could go about it like a normal person.

*SLIP!*

"Mmnnooo!"

*Splash*

Until my phone slipped out of my hand and fell right into the toilet. Thank god I didn't actually use the damn thing when I barged in earlier.

As much as I enjoyed edging sometimes, what happened was just plain bullshit. And it was only getting worse.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

"Mmm phhh just- just a minute!" I mumbled out to the stranger on the other side of the door.

Thankfully, without thinking, my left hand darted into the toilet bowl and extracted my phone from the water. My only hope was that the last person who used it had flushed twice.

The hand I was using to fuck myself extracted two pussy-soaked fingers and reached for the roll of toilet paper. While I mummified my phone, I did my best to wipe and dry off the slick remains of my wetness on the extra rolls that I wound up.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

"Almost done!" I grunted out after I spat the portion of the blouse that I had been biting on and used my chin to catch the sleeve before the entire shirt fell on the floor.

Moments later, my blouse was buttoned back on, my slacks were back up at my waist, and my hands were thoroughly rubbed with suds as I tried my best to get rid of the pussy smell before I finally stepped out of the bathroom.

"Sorry!" I whispered to the wordless old crone who decided to stand there and wait that whole time. She trudged into the bathroom as I hustled my way back to my office.

"I thought you just got some grub?" Anna replied to me with a raised eyebrow after I tried my best to casually ask if she happened to know where I could find uncooked rice.

"I'm not gonna eat it, it's for my phone. I spilled water all over it."

"Oh, that sucks!" Anna said.

I met her words with a resigned huff and agreed on how awfully klutzy I was for spilling water on my phone.

It totally didn't happen because of something else.

"Here, I needed to buy the cakes for Alan's office party tomorrow and some other knick-knacks. I'll get you a bag and toss it to ya once I'm back. Deal?"

Anna declined the $5 I offered her as she left the office. Back at my desk, I opened my work laptop and finished the remaining orientation papers Louis had emailed me.

Sadly, as productive as I tried to be, every single time I clicked on the browser's search bar, the urge would hit me.

"MessyMysteryMinx.com." I typed in the browser.

Then I would erase it.

Finished scanning the latest paper? Time to upload to the local server.

My fingers would start.

"MessyMy-"

Backspace, again.

It didn't help that there was only one hour left in the day. I had finished all the training modules Louis forwarded, and as much as I wanted to review the mystery of the totally-not-coffee-stained papers, my brain recalled details from the IT guys I had met for my equipment earlier.

The first one I met had glasses way too large for his face and a shirt that was way too small. He excitedly explained to me how computers work! Press button, power on, laptop screen lights.

On a friendly day, I would have just said that I know how computers work. On a bad day, I would have told them that I built my own site from scratch, with actual JavaScript that ran media files! Just don't ask about the compression issue. Or where I copied the code from.

Instead, I hit 'em with the usual "Wow!" between each sentence. Standard procedure for any girl talking to anybody below their league. Both to make him feel good and to allow me to listen in on the other gremlin behind him, who was eager to try and impress the new girl.

The one behind him only had two eyes and knew how to pick out fitted clothing. Sadly, he didn't get the memo when they used to say, "Loose lips sink ships."

He was eager to remind his co-dork that the device monitoring is attached to the office Wi-Fi and to make sure my laptop was connected to it.

Fast forward, back to my desk, where I sat. Only 45 minutes left before my day was supposed to end, but each minute that passed felt like an hour. Most of the office had cleared out, and the population was reduced to only a couple pairs of walking office furniture dressed in shades of charcoal and clearance rack navy blues.

Louis would occasionally step out of his office while he spoke on the phone. He would pace as he jabbered on, then, like clockwork, step back inside as soon as he finished. Sometimes he passed my desk as he spoke. I learned that he was slightly shorter than me, but his tailored pants hinted that it wouldn't be a problem. Kimberly was right, turns out there were two snakes in his office earlier.

When he passed, he gave me the nod that guys do when they don't know what to say, but have to acknowledge you. It was cute seeing him have to look up towards me when he did that.

Besides him, nobody else passed by my corner cubicle. And once he was back in his office, I knew I would have ample warning if he was anywhere near my screen.

I could have waited till I got home, but that was the issue with Minx. She made me a lot more impulsive than usual.

*WIFI SETTINGS*

*Berrien Admin: CONNECTED*

With a quick scan, I checked around me one last time, then with one click, I disconnected from the office Wi-Fi and connected to the public network from the coffee shop across the street. It only had a couple bars and was quite slow, but if the IT gremlins weren't lying, it allowed me to scratch my slutty little itch.

MessyMysteryMinx.com

*Enter*

I peeked above my cubicle as my site loaded, making sure Louis was locked away behind his office door and scanning to check if any of the passive office staff would be within view of my screen.

After I entered my login credentials, my heart skipped a beat as I looked at the homepage of my own private whoredom, along with my court of 48,120 viewers. I was only gone for less than 24 hours, but being back on the site and seeing the growing number of viewers, along with the all-important increase in comments, made me smile in a way that felt like a warm homecoming of sorts.

I was finally able to reap the attention from my housewarming post, and even though I would have much preferred to do so with one hand, I was already taking a big risk reading it at the office, so the thrill of that was a comfortable substitute.

As expected, everyone enjoyed the entire house tour. However, the "baking segment" at the end certainly took the cake.

My flats gingerly kicked along the rough office carpet as I sat in my chair. I scrolled through and read all the lewd comments from the usual users. Meanwhile, the curious and mystified ones from the new people made me giggle.

Regardless of what they wrote, all that mattered was that they were only talking about me and nothing else. All of these randoms from around the country made the choice to take a seat in my private little theatre and sat back as I entranced them with my productions.

Getting closer to the end of the comments on my new post, I noticed a trend. But before I could finish reading-

"Ms. Ridgeley."

"Yes!?" My fingers quickly hit the Win + L key and locked my screen as I peered above my desk like a meerkat.

Louis was standing in the doorway of his office, this time holding car keys rather than a phone to his ear.

"Before I head out, I need to check something with you." He continued as he walked towards my desk. My hands remained frozen on the keyboard while the lock screen displayed the time, but they started getting clammy as he came closer to my cubicle.

"I need to make sure your laptop has Docu-Sync, that way we don't have to keep emailing each other back and forth just to share files."

Of course.

"It does! The IT guys from upstairs showed and tested it with me." They most definitely did not. I'd love to blame Minx for that lie, but she was too honest. This one was a last-ditch effort from me as I did what I could to rebuff Louis from checking my laptop.

"Lovely! I just shared a file with you from my computer earlier, do you mind showing me the transfer?"

I would have been happier if he had dumped a bucket full of ice water over my head. After all, I already felt the sensation as my head went numb and my fingers refused to budge from the keyboard.

Louis got closer, rounded the corner, and moved towards the open side of my cubicle.

At the last second, right before he could see my screen, one of my hands cooperated and held down the power button.

"Sure! Let me just wait for it to restart! Froze on me earlier."

"No worries at all, I have some time."

While we waited for the computer to fully restart, Louis chatted with me. He asked if I was satisfied with my first day so far. I told him I was, I didn't tell him why, or in what part of the office I had fingered myself. He nodded along.

"After your first investigation, I'll have you work with the art center for a couple things," he finished right as my laptop booted to the login, then he nodded towards the screen.

"Over here, should be in the most recent folder," he said.

With slow fingers, for once, I entered my login code and clicked enter. With every second that passed as I clicked and typed my login, I was hoping and praying that the forced reset would close out the window.

Thankfully, it did.

But based on Louis's reaction, something else was amiss. "Hmmmm, looks like the file didn't send somehow?" he muttered in confusion.

"Yeah, not seeing anything here," I said, as I scrolled along the recent files section.

"It should have worked; the file was just two gigabytes."

"Maybe the internet was being slow?"

"Potentially. DocuSync usually syncs via the Cloud automatically. It does require gigabit," he added. "Which our office does have."

I tried my best to troubleshoot everything but the Wi-Fi in front of him. Had I clicked on it, it would have shown that I was still connected to the public instead of the office Wi-Fi. Thankfully, I didn't have to keep up the charade for long.

"Never mind, we can try tomorrow. Not enough time."

His words removed a great weight off my shoulders as he finally decided to give up and step away from the view of my screen. As Louis spoke and waved goodbye, my fingers quickly opened the browser back up.

I intended to delete the browser history and finally head home. But seeing Louis step away towards the exit and leave me alone in my section gave me too much confidence to finish what I started.

Soon, I was back on my site and scrolled back to the section I was reading earlier. Amidst the mix of new and expected comments, there was a thread of replies between some of the viewers on one specific comment.

Anon9181: Try using marshmallow fluff! Would look great on ur long legs. Look like a sticky marble statue.

All the replies to that comment were in fervent support, with many asking for specific settings. Many wanted me to film that messy scene in the kitchen for some reason. Apparently, the countertops and moody lighting were a vibe that caught on.

I liked it. And I felt cheeky and decided to write a reply back to the string of comments.

MessyMysteryMinx: Thanks for the idea anon! Ur wish is my command xoxo

I bit my lips as I grinned after hitting enter. It wasn't common for me to reply in the comments, but with all the new fans, I figured it might be kinda fun to start talking to them more directly.

Eager as I was, right as I closed my laptop and felt for my phone, I had forgotten about my earlier mishap and spooked myself when I unearthed the mummy-phone from my pocket. Though it wasn't going to be the only thing that spooked me then.

"Daphne!" Anna said as she suddenly appeared in front of my cubicle and scared me, again.

"Ahhh-hi?"

"Thought you already bailed!" She gently tossed me a small resealable bag of rice. "Sorry it took me a while, the store was poppin. Had a big sale on a bunch of stuff!"

As I caught the bag of rice, I thanked Anna for it. She replied with her usual string of dated slang, then asked the typical end-of-day pleasantries. Same as Louis. While we chatted, I unraveled my phone, still working somehow, but dropped it in the bag of rice. With my personal laptop still having boot problems, I didn't need my phone to be useless either.

On our way towards the exit, she noticed that I was holding my work computer.

"You know, you don't have to take that home? Louis and most everyone else keep their laptops here," she told me.

"I was gonna finish some of my training modules at home!" I replied even though all of them were done. "Want to stay ahead."

"I get that. Well, I'll catch you tomorrow!" Anna said as we parted and walked towards our respective cars.

As I turned, I remembered one of her lines from earlier.

"Anna! Wait!."

She quickly turned back, with an eyebrow raised.

"You said the grocery store had a big sale earlier?" I called out.

"Yeah! At Meijer down the road."

"What stuff was on sale?"

"A couple things, mostly baking stuff based on what I saw!"

"Oh nice, thanks!"

I plopped back in my car with a big grin and my next destination in mind.

______

*BEEP*

Eggs: $1.09

Being a tall girl, at 6'3", definitely came with issues.

Cars and planes? Absolute back busters.

Footwear? Better like wearing men's.

Clothes? Hope you like showing some skin, whether stomach or ankles.

I learned quickly that most things weren't made for me, but it became a great motivation to adapt.

*BEEP*

Wheat Bread: $2.00

Yoga and exercise help keep me flexible (and hot), great for all that lumbar damage (and attention).

Long Tall Sally was expensive but worth the overtime at my first job since they freed me from the boring, rubber prison of men's shoes.

I learned sewing like my life depended on it, and finally wore clothes that got people to tell me to try modeling rather than trying out for the WNBA.

*BEEP*

Paper Towels: $4.50

Of course, adapting to how people reacted was a bit of trouble too. Short guys were scared, tall guys felt challenged and flirted waymore than usual. Short girls thought I was cool, like Harper. But the other tall girls would go full Regina George, like Kimberly.

*BEEP*

Kale: 75 cents

But when I was trying to casually buy--10 jars of marshmallow creme at the self-checkout, none of those issues compared to the feeling I had while I stood there and had to contend with scanning each jar one by one as randoms would keep turning their heads towards me. The young guy who was running the attendant station was staring as if he knew what I planned to do with it later.

"It's for a recipe." I mouthed to myself and practiced in case any of the store pedestrians decided to ask. I had come up with it earlier when I had stood in front of the baking section, trying my best to figure out if 130 ounces would be enough to coat my naked body. Sure enough, I had to take all the jars they had in stock. Add that to my grievances

My hand fiddled through my basket as I reached for one of the plastic jars that peeked out from the layer of normal groceries I had stacked on top to hide it earlier.

*BEEP*

Marshmallow Creme: $3.50

One down, nine more to go. I looked up and saw that the other people around me started to pay up and head towards the exit. The googly-eyed attendant finally left his post and assisted one of the pedestrians at their own kiosk.

"Ok." I whispered as I took the opportunity to get as many jars scanned as I could.

After a rapid succession of beeps, I succeeded in getting all of them scanned. By the time the attendant was back at his station, I had started paying. Once I walked past his podium, I nodded and made my way to the parking lot with the receipt and grocery bags in hand.

Despite how hectic the day had been, I couldn't get over how beautiful St. Joseph had been so far. Most of the day had been gloomy, but I was fortunate to catch the sunset throwing rays of orange against the hazy pink skies above the lake. As I walked toward my car, I focused on the serene portrait. It was so pretty that I didn't notice that the bag that held the marshmallow cremes was starting to stretch.

The shrill voice that cut through the silence didn't help.

"New girl! Hey!" A female voice called out from behind me.

Kimberly, along with her blindingly white outfit, hopped out of her obnoxious (also white) Suburban and strode towards my direction.

I did my best to grin at her, but continued making my way to my car. It was only 20 feet away, but her long strides closed the distance fast. I thought Kim was tall, especially when I saw her earlier. I didn't realize that she was practically the same height as me.

"Damn! I didn't realize you were a giant too!" She laughed through her filled lips as she stood in front of me. "I thought I recognized you when I saw you walking out from the store when I pulled up!"

"Giraffes of a feather I guess." I shrugged.

"No kidding." She nodded with approval in a way that seemed human for a second before the Botox tightened back up as she continued. "It's Annie, right?"

"Daphne." I said.

"Right! Daphne! Like the Scooby Doo character?"

Story of my life right there. Despite being fourth-generation Hoosiers with mixed Welsh-English heritage, my parents tried to be cute and decided that all their daughters would be named after Greek mythology in some way.

My older sister Athena, named after the goddess. My younger sister, Cassie, is named after the constellation, Cassiopeia. And me, Daphne. It means tree. A laurel tree.

"Yesexactly like that," I groaned.

"Adorable! Anyway, I don't wanna hold you too long but I was wondering if you were the one that Louis assigned to handle my plat maps."

The ones that seemed as authentic as your cheekbones? I had to bite my tongue to avoid saying this one.

"I did process a couple, but my training held up-"

"Sweet! One of those is a flood zone map, if you can do me a solid and process that one first thing," she continued, but her words that followed were much sharper in tone. "The city council isn't approving my next build until that map is confirmed."

"Sure thing! I can work on it tomorrow." I grinned, since I knew that I was lying directly to her face.

"You're the best! And by the way! You live in Magnolia Glade, right?"

"I just moved in about two days ago. Yeah, you sent me the lockbox code last-"

"That's right! I knew I recognized your face." Kim nodded as if she agreed with herself. "Yeah you were one of the first move-ins for that floor plan! Plus, you're beside the expansion."

"Expansion?"

"Yeah! We've been building a park trail beside the creek that connects all my developments. Your house is right beside one of the new trail heads!" Her sharper words returned. "It's the same one that's being held up by the council, so whenever you get those maps processed you can walk down and meet your new neighbors!"

"I do love a good jog." I said flatly, hoping that our conversation would end soon.

"Atta girl! Well, I don't want to keep you any long-"

*RIIIIP*

In that second, the bag that held all of the marshmallow jars tore wide open.

"Shit!" I yelled as the plastic jars spilled and rolled around the asphalt between Kimberly and me.

I dropped my other bag and lurched forward to contain some, while Kim instinctively reached down and captured a couple run away plastic jars herself.

Despite my annoyance and glimmer of humiliation, I couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous she and I looked. Two Amazons in business attire did their best to corral the puffy little runaways.

"Whew, thanks!" I exclaimed to Kim after she tossed me the last jar she nabbed.

"No problem. You really like that stuff huh?" She asked me with a raised brow.

Her suspicion made my palms sweaty. What I wanted to do was toss all my groceries in my car and drive off. But she was far too connected to just ditch on what was supposed to be a normal question for most people.

"It's for a recipe I got family coming in for a housewarming party this weekend."

She nodded back at me with a smile that seemed warm, but the way her eyes squinted made me think she somehow knew what was really going on.

I always hated dealing with other snakes. Especially when they were able to look me in the eye on the same level rather than having to look up towards me.

"Adorable. I'm sure it'll be great." She then reached into her pocket, nabbed her key fob, and started stepping backwards towards her car. "Hope they enjoy the house."

With a nod and a wave, the white witch finally left me alone as she rolled off on her luxury trim broom. With a huff from my mouth and a groan from my car seat, I exhaled as I tossed the groceries in the back. I turned the key, then I hooked my music on to get my own libido ready for the audience that was ready and waiting for my next show back at home.

___

I wiped off the grainy dust that coated my phone. Thankfully, it was working fine as if I hadn't dropped it in the toilet earlier that day. It was dry, and I was anything but.

"Y'know it's wild actually getting paid to do this stuff now!" Harper said to me over FaceTime. The screen was on her face with its everyday coat of ManicPanic Goth White, complemented by her smoky KVD eyeshadow. The barbell that pierced the bridge of her nose glinted as the screen adjusted while she took a bite of her food.

We'd spent the past hour chatting while I was seated at a barstool and eating at the kitchen counter. I swapped my white blouse for my usual at-home burgundy racerback tank top and replaced my charcoal slacks with linen pajama bottoms. Easy clothes to strip off once I was ready to actually enjoy my evening.

Dinner started shortly after I got home from the grocery store. I prepared my simple meal: grilled chicken with veggies and a side of sexual impatience after I unloaded the jars of marshmallow fluff and had to tell them that they'll have to wait to see me naked once I finished my dinner routine with Harper.

She was having a loaded beef burrito topped off with gossiping, bitching, and impish cackling at her own jokes.

Usually, our dinner routine annoyed me, especially when I had evening plans, but now that she was just my "bestie" rather than my "roomie n bestie," I was down for letting her drain her social battery. It guaranteed that once our call was over, she wouldn't bug me and interrupt the session I planned to film on the same surface I was having my dinner on. Besides, I was always pretty selfish with desserts and preferred to enjoy them by myself.

"Same amount of work as pre-residency though?" I replied between bites of my own food. My eyes were fixed on my phone screen, but my focus kept changing to the jars of fluff that yearned for me to finish up as they sat on the counter across from me.

"That's the best part! I barely have to do shit over here!"

"Must be nice." I said.

"For real! Besides all the Notre Dame stuff, I'm ready to get used to it!"

"Careful saying that down there. Fightin Irish are no joke."

"Fuck them and their dumb little mascot. Half those losers wind up at my hospital for alcohol poisoning anyway." She took a bite of her food, then continued, "Fucking lightweights."

We shared a chuckle and a synchronized moment of silence as we finished our respective dinners. I excused myself and stepped out of Harper's view as I deposited my dishes into the left sink. I ran the hot water, but instead of using it to soak my used plate, it filled a large mixing bowl in the right sink.

While Harper and I had chatted, I was googling how to make marshmallow fluff more "spreadable". Apparently, soaking the jars in the hot water not only made it easier to spread on skin but made it nice and warm too.

It felt great to actually prep for a scene before 9 PM. Gone were the days when I had to wait for Harper to go to bed or work a late shift. Now I could start getting my gear and "props" all while she continued to ramble out of view.

It almost felt rude, as I plotted the way I would pound my pussy later, while Harper just continued to ramble on the phone. But then I remembered the damn YouTube video that had blasted in Louis's office, right in front of him (and Kimberly, I guess), and how those cheeky censors left little to the imagination.

It was comical the way that vertical black bar moved up and down between my legs while my unrecognizably slathered face moaned at each movement. It was also ridiculous how horny it made me and how it forced me to spend my lunch finger-blasting myself in the bathroom.

"So how was the first day? Did the caffeine actually help?"

"I'd say it did, yeah." I nodded as I finished filling the mixing bowl with hot water and placed a couple of the marshmallow jars in, then walked back into frame as I dried my hands.

"So is your boss an old geezer or what?" Harper asked on screen.

No. In fact, he's about our age. So far, he's tried to come across like he's all serious and moody with his private-eye office and ahead-of-everyone watch, but has messy fuckboy hair that was intentionally tousled. His whole front was a performance that only seemed to buckle when he saw the video that played, and how he suddenly had to cross his legs and hide how it made him feel, knowing how tight his pants were.

"I think.he's our age but still looks like he watches history documentaries for fun." I chewed on my lips as I tried to be careful with my next words. "Lil bit of a try-hard though."

"Oh?" Harper asked with a grin. "So you already have a crus-"

"No! Not a crush-" I wagged my finger towards the screen. "Cute, sure, like what I said though tries too hard."

"Mmmmm, liar." Harper laughed. "You can scan people like a hawk, but your face is still a billboard Daffy!"

I shook my head at her while I drank my water. Harper was right, but not in the way she thought.

When you observe people with a stone face, they tend to catch you pretty quickly. After that, people lock down, and suddenly all the little details they broadcast to the world get hidden away.

If you watch people with a pretty face though? They show everything. If you reciprocate with all those cutesy facial expressions people like? You get their entire life story and a couple of their deeper secrets.

"I'm just sayingwe'd probably just be short-term." I continued with a sly smirk. "Kinda predictable if we did that though, and I'd rather not ruin my career."

"Fair enough." Harper nodded back. "Can't give you too much shit though. Already got the number of one of the admin guys in my section."

"You projecting ass-"

"Hold on! He's not my boss though; he's reception staff. We met while he showed me around he's also from Chicago but technically grew up in Brazil-"

Harper continued rambling about her new boytoy, apparently, his name was Claudio, and he checked all her boxes. Long hair, an accent, superstitious, and most importantly, an Aquarius just like her.

While I usually enjoyed the spotlight, I was more than fine with letting Harper take center stage and tire herself out while she told me all about him and their upcoming bar-hopping date. It gave me ample time to clear off the rest of the kitchen counter, find a second mixing bowl to act as a warm bath for the other jars of marshmallow fluff, and I even found the best spot for my tripod. Corner of the kitchen, long shot. Would get all my good angles, whether I was on top of the counter or if I somehow found myself leaning against it.

Harper reached her final act around 8:40 PM. She had stopped talking about Claudio and then redirected it back to me and asked me about the other parts of my day. I chatted, but I avoided topics that would only extend the conversation. Told her about Anna but avoided mentioning the sweet deets.

I hinted about Kimberly but didn't note her excessive posturing. Just mentioned that I met some local big-shot developer, realtor, broker, or whatever she actually was.

All I knew was that she was new money. Not the nouveau riche, West Egg kind either. More like social-media grind culture garbage straight off the algorithm from the Hollywood Hills. Her entire outfit and vibe were an emulation, just another extension of her marketing. The all-white suit was platinum, rather than a subtle cream color that would have actually matched her spray-tanned skin and black hair. The fabric was cheap and synthetic, based on how much it had stretched when she bent down and helped me out back at the parking lot. The fancy Prada bag she prattled was fake too. Italians would rather die than use a double stitch to stamp on their overpriced logos.

"How's your OnlyFans gig going?" Harper threw it right as we were approaching our curtain call, her usual grin when she decided to prod.

"It's not OnlyFans for one, and two, been a bit busy so I haven't had time." I rolled my eyes but felt a slight chill knowing that if Harper happened to stumble across the YouTubers or the threads that found my content, she might put the pieces together.

"Ooookay."

"Why do you keep prodding anyway?"

"It's still wild to me that you don't charge-"

"Harp-"

"You'd make bank and wouldn't have to work if you-"

"We've been over this and I'm not explaining it again!"

My tone was a bit angrier than I intended. Honestly, I didn't mind explaining the surface level It's just taxes excuse again. But it was almost 9, we were almost done talking, and the fucking marshmallow jars had been staring at me all night with their blue lids as they floated in the warm water.

"Sorry. Long day with no sleep and I just realized it's almost 9." I said with my shoulders slumped.

"You're fine, I was just being a nosy bitch." Harper smiled back. "Anyway, gotta go to bed soon too."

Moments later, we finally concluded our evening chat and ended back on a positive, albeit gossipy note.

Once our call was over, I dashed into my bedroom and plugged my phone into the charger to recover some battery time, then reached into my bedside drawer and unplugged my dildo to make sure I could drain my own energy for the evening.

Back in the kitchen, I placed my silicone friend on the counter while I went around the rest of the house and closed the blinds and turned off the brighter lights.

The pendant lights above the counter were too bright, and with my pale skin, they would have been too reflective, especially since I was going to be painting myself white. I wound up going with a variation of the lighting routine when I edited last night.

With the rest of the lights around my kitchen and living room off, the warm orange glow would be my backdrop light once again, while my portable ring light would be the key light as it stood on top of the square dining table, which I've yet to actually dine on.

My fill light came in the form of the dome light in the ceiling of the hallway that connected my bedrooms to the kitchen. It was bright, but the hall walls funneled in a manner that directed most of the light towards the tripod and would provide an ample amount of light to the lens that ensured it would capture every inch of me.

"Nice."

I muttered it out to my kitchen as I realized that my scene was almost ready. It responded by reminding me that I had to check one last thing.

With a huff, I went back into my bedroom. Moments later, I would reappear in the kitchen, this time with my phone in hand and my clothes neatly folded back on my bed. I was excited to finally get started, but my pointed nipples and outbreaks of goosebumps all over my nude body told me that the room was a tad cold. I didn't bother to adjust the thermostat since I planned to get really warm soon.

60% Charged
9:10 PM

My phone screen displayed the numbers as I fastened it on the mount on top of the tripod. Next, my finger tapped on the camera button, and I was graced with my own smile as I moved out of view and observed to make sure it had a full view of the entire kitchen island, right in the middle. The last time I filmed on the counter, I had the tripod and camera on the table. It kept everything in frame but only from the counter's stony surface and up. This time I wanted to make sure I had some wiggle room.

Timer: ON 5s
5
4
3
2
CLICK!

I tiptoed back to the camera and observed the timed photo it took. My full-frontal nude body was on display as my back leaned against the corner of the cold marble, while my arms were dramatically gripping the corners. It felt like a cover straight out of Vogue, especially with the darkness that enveloped my illuminated body.

The lighting I had set up created the perfect spotlight effect. Since all the other lights were off, the ring light cast a soft white glow at the front that ensured I was visible. My body was a pale ghost that stood out amidst the darkness that surrounded the kitchen. The orange stove light gave enough to provide an outline of my head and shoulders, but kept the shadows that filled out the rest of my profile and dimmed all the contours and dips along my body.

Finally, the fill light from the hallway dome created a sharp spear of light that tracked directly toward the camera. It helped make sure that the camera was lit, but didn't reflect too much to kill the moody darkness I had tried to create.

Satisfied with the result, I turned the phone screen off. I walked back to the counter and dabbed my fingers in the large bowls. My mouth grinned while I shimmied my shoulders. I had kept the marshmallow jars waiting while they soaked in their bath, but the time to use them was finally coming.

The water had gone mostly lukewarm, but the plastic surface of the jars had a warmer touch to them than before. I removed the jars and placed them in a line on top of the counter beside my toy. Then I dumped the water and the mixing bowls back in the sink.

I exhaled in silence as I stared at my setup. The 10 jars of fluff, my dildo, the quiet buzz from the ring light, and my phone patiently waiting for my next command.

I smiled with eager anticipation, knowing what was coming next.

Anytime I started recording for my sessions, the first couple seconds were usually quiet. Wet sounds from me licking my lips, quiet mumblings or giggles while I tried to figure out how to start, and the occasional deep breath.

All three manifested as I walked back into the frame and got behind the counter. More giggles excitedly came out of my mouth when I realized that the marble island perfectly censored my crotch since it covered everything below my navel as I reached for the first jar in front of me.

The red dot that stared at me from the other side continued to watch quietly as I chuckled. It was pin-drop silent while my shaky hands spent an entire minute struggling with the lid of the first jar I grabbed.

Schlunk!

My curious hand found itself already at the bottom of the jar, seconds after the lid finally popped off. I intended to just swipe the top layer of the white goo. But after I opened it, my greedy hand decided to take a plunge. The sweet ooze was just too inviting, too warm, too smooth, and I was still too clean.

"Oh!"

A pale and oozing glove gracefully extracted itself from the jar. Pure white coated every inch of skin from my wrist all the way to my fingertips. It was thick and sticky yet persisted with the heavy coat as I watched in awe while it danced in front of my face. No matter how much the white glove rotated or adjusted, the sticky goo clung perfectly without dripping.

"Woah."

I knew it was my own hand, but seeing the persistent coverage was so surreal. My skin and body were no strangers to being covered in various flavors of sugary mess. I've worn various flavors of cake mix, donned heavy layers of brownie batter, and, when my wallet allowed it, accessorized with vanilla and chocolate frosting. All of them were pretty heavy on skin and great for coverage, but tended to drip and smear given time or movement. The way this marshmallow ooze clung was a new sensation, and one that I was eager to get really immersed with.

Splat!

"Mmmph."

The glove smeared its sticky coat of ooze all over my face, which left an oozing white, hand-sized pattern and finger trails that spanned from my forehead, all the way down till it reached my mouth as it interrupted the moan that tried to escape over my sticky lips. I needed more, and the glove was already ahead of me.

Schlunk!

Splat!

"Mmmmmm."

My other hand that held the now half-filled jar weakened as my body felt a hot pulse from its core. A positive reaction after the sticky glove eagerly scooped a warm, heaping glob of white ooze and slathered it all over my face.

My world went dark, but my body was on fire as it felt the sticky mass slowly dribbling down.

Thick sticky ropes continued all down my eyelids, my nose, my lips, and finally splattered down my neck. My greedy tongue dared to ruin the mask as it gave a cheeky lick and tasted the sweet and sticky ooze that had painted my entire face. I grinned as I imagined the camera seeing my mouth reveal itself on the thick glob, as my pink tongue danced out for a quick taste.

"Ohhhm-"

I swallowed the sugary sample my tongue had taken, but felt another warm pulse from my core as the thick glob finally slowed down, pausing right at my cleavage. My sticky glove grabbed the sugary mass, then proceeded to smear it all over my breasts. The sensation of the ooze was otherworldly as it painted over my skin with ease, yet left a sinfully thick coat that encased my entire chest.

My eyes fluttered in response to my brain's desire to see how my body looked so far. But the heavy ooze kept them from opening, and my hands were too busy reaching for another jar as the first had already emptied most of its contents over my face and tits.

Schlunk!

Desperate fingers dug deep into the next jar and scooped out another heaping handful of ooze, ready for its next destination.

Splat!

Thank god for shampoo, I thought as my hand slathered the thick sludge on top of my head and all over my bobbed hair. My rational brain didn't stay too long, though, as I moaned and gasped while my hand worked the rest of the white gloop all over my head until I had given myself a sticky, oozing helmet. Tiny drizzles tickled my naked shoulders while my hands grasped for the next jar.

Schlunk!

Splat!

Schlunk!

Splat!

"Ohhhhhhh."

I moaned louder, but I didn't care. I live alone now, and I had the pleasure to react how I wanted as I started using both hands to paint my nude body with sticky ooze. This time, the third jar found itself opened on the counter while both hands took turns, slipping in and grasping heaping loads, then slathering them all over my shoulders and upper arms.

My teeth chattered, not from the cold but from the lust that was starting to take over me. White, sugar-slathered arms had smeared sticky ooze all over my upper body, and yet my clean and exposed lower half was desperate to get its own blanket of marshmallow coverage. I was eager to give it a fair slathering, but I needed to make sure I could see for the next part. Both for utility and for my own slutty curiosity.

An oozing palm pressed onto my eye and gently ground until my eyelashes were freed from their marshmallowy binds.

"Woah."

The word felt slurred as it came out of my mouth and gave the impression that I was drunk, but the drool that slipped out of the corner of my lips as I looked down at my coated upper half made it seem like I was completely bombed.

Giggles and groans continued to escape my drooling mouth as I stared in awe at the opaque glaze of sticky marshmallow creme that encased my entire upper body. One curious hand decided to creep between my legs, around the few contrails of sticky ooze, eager to feel the moisture that had been blooming in my crotch.

"Ohhhmm!"

A sharp gasping moan escaped from my oozing mask as my head fell back. My middle and ring finger deliciously pressed their sticky tips around my clean pussy and found my wet clit. I rubbed slowly as I groaned into the air while I stood there and teased myself.

I relished in the sensation for a moment while I stood there in the dark and enjoyed the sticky, smooth friction around my clit. But as I felt my fingers move faster, I remembered that I still had more jars to go, and a dildo that could really fill me up.

My teeth grazed my sugary lips as my fingers paused their diddling, and I tilted my head back down. The red light blinked as it watched me fade into the shadows at the sides of the island and reappear in front of it, facing the glow of the ring light after I made my way around and stood there with my clean legs with nothing between me and the camera.

"Now let's really get started." I whispered with a grin toward the phone lens.

Cool stone kissed the clean skin of my tailbone as I leaned against the island and presented my frame to the camera while my other hand reached behind me and grabbed the jar that would start coating the rest of my lower half.

op!

Unexpectedly but conveniently, the lid easily popped off and rolled along the floor. I smiled then groaned as I squeezed the jar over my right thigh and watched with awe as a large blob plopped out and immediately splattered sticky ooze all over it.

"Fuck."

I groaned as I massaged the obscenely thick ooze all over my leg and watched the sludge pool along the pit and creases of my knee, while gravity assisted as the oozing trails continued, coating my calf and ankles. Soon, my left leg experienced the same sugary fate after I unsealed another jar and coated it.

My fingers trembled, and my teeth continued to chatter as I found myself working every inch of my lower half, sliding slick ooze all over my hips, slapping stickiness within the soft, sensitive skin of my inner thighs, ensuring that everything I could see was given its thick coat of marshmallow.

After tossing another empty jar on the floor and slapping one last heaping coat along my hips and stomach, I looked down and relished in the delicious encasement that blanketed over my entire body.

With watery eyes, I looked up at the camera and envisioned how I looked. My entire form, unrecognizable. My head slathered and smeared, my hair and face coalesced into a sticky, dripping mass of ooze, my tits turned into mere sugary mounds, my arms and legs all encased with loads of goo. The cool of the kitchen air was foreign to me as my body felt warmth radiate from under the layers, while my pussy practically drooled through the ooze that coated it.

The red dot that watched back as I looked at my phone stared right through me, into depths of my consciousness that burned hot with desperate lust and the core that begged for attention.

Thousands of eyes with busy hands would have admired and witnessed my sugary surrender. Their hungering need to watch my self-destruction, my self-imposed punishment. The karmic release came once I destroyed my constructed image and reduced it to nothing but a horny, sloppy mess. I felt whole under my heavy coating, but now there was only one thing left that needed to be filled.

I eagerly reached one hand behind me; my fingers grasped the flared base of my silicone dildo and brought it right back and aimed it towards my sugar-coated pussy.

"Oomhm."

My mouth went agape as I moaned. Drips and dribbles splattered along the floor as my hand pumped the dildo between my coated thighs. My other hand clenched on the stone as it gripped the counter behind me to ensure I kept my balance while I faced the camera.

I smiled as my ears took in the disgustingly delightful cacophony of my masturbation. The chipper grunts that snuck past my breathy moans, the lewd squelching as my drooling pussy was repeatedly fed with inches of marshmallow-coated silicone, and the slapstick slapping noise each time my sugar-coated arms smacked against my outstretched thighs. All of it was delightful, and most importantly, being recorded.

An idle red met my lustful gaze as I stared at my silent watcher in the corner. The witness that would show the world what I really was. The perfect girl who put herself to the top, but got addicted to the feeling of letting herself fall all the way back down.

"Fuck yes-ohhh."

Clouds appeared in my vision as my mind wandered and remembered snippets of comments I read earlier that day while I continued to ravage myself.

"What a freak show-"

"Weird slut-"

"Sloppy, messy whore-"

My pussy gripped the dildo tighter as I continued pushing it in and out of me while I fantasized about the humiliating words from the onlookers who saw me. Short gasps echoed while I chased the sweet release, but as my thighs started to tighten, my other hand offered some help.

I reached behind me and grasped one of the last marshmallow jars. With a tight squeeze, the lid popped right off, and soon the jar found itself above my head as it slowly oozed out a thick dollop right over my coated head and further masked my already encased form.

"Ohhh-mmm."

The sticky blob of fresh marshmallow plastered a new coat over my face and masked my mouth as it rolled down. A self-imposed money shot that continued over my hyperventilating neck, oozed over my bouncing breasts, slicked over my stomach, and finally made it to my hand that continued to piston between my legs.

A shuddering moan came out of me as the fresh ooze met the dildo and acted as an additional lubricant, providing the catalyst that lit the fuse of my climax. The sticky friction, combined with the slick wetness my pussy had created a sensation that was unlike anything I'd experienced before. It caused me to pump the dildo faster and harder as I chased the orgasm I needed.

"Oh yes! Oh fuck yes!" I shouted as I felt the waves of heat start to splash over me. My oozing legs locked up and went completely rigid as I felt a hot pulse completely erupt from inside my slicked, sugary pussy.

"Ohhhhhhhhh!"

My slathered head rocked forward as my sugar-encased form shook uncontrollably as the climax slammed into my body as I stood there. The hand that held my dildo wanted to continue pumping, but all my limbs went limp and forced me to drop the sticky toy onto the floor. Shakes, giggles, and moans came from my mouth while my hips slowly shook and thrusted as the climax fully washed all over me. I sighed deeply, but continued to giggle as I felt my body return.

I swiped at the goo that coated my eyes and looked down at the hedonistic crime scene I'd left behind. With a low chuckle and a satisfied exhale, I reveled at the way the marshmallow had clung perfectly, all over my skin, and gave a nod to my silicone pleasure weapon that rested on the floor in front of me.

Despite all the frantic movement from my self-fucking, every inch was still opaquely coated with oozing white creme. My hands glided over my body as I felt the coverage all around. It was a sensation that was pretty fun, anytime I finished up, but the comments from my site said that it just looked hot whenever I did it. Might as well hit two birds with one stone, and oblige myself and the fans.

After sensually caressing the ooze all over my body, I took a pause and checked the time on the stove behind me. The small check reminded me that I still had some cleanup and needed to figure out how to edit my footage.

With that, I bit my lips and squished my thighs together as I gave a low wave to the camera.

______

"Now you'reshy in frontof a camera?" I shakily giggled to myself on the screen as I watched my unrecognizable form meekly waving.

My head shook while my fingers dragged along the timeline, as I edited the footage I had recorded an hour and a half ago. I never understood my own instinct to wave at the camera when I was done degrading myself. Maybe a small reminder that the desperately horny being that just made a complete mess of herself for an orgasm was surprisingly still human? Was it the sign that my dignity and self-awareness had returned after another bout of surrendering to my hedonistic whims?

I didn't know the answer, but I didn't care. It was fun, and the only question that I needed to figure out for the evening was answered by iMovie on my phone.

After I had stopped recording earlier and finally cleaned up my body and my kitchen, I remembered that my personal laptop was still a complete dud. The work laptop was available but didn't have any editing programs, and even though the monitoring was attached to the wifi at work, the device didn't allow for new program installs.

Thankfully, my personal phone did.

It was far from robust, and I just wound up clipping the first portion of the recording where my face was still visible. But having the video start right as I coated my face, and proceed with my sticky and messy anonymity from there, was a vibe I really liked. It was the only edit I needed to do since the marshmallow did a great job of hiding my identity. For the first time, editing took me less than thirty minutes, and most of my time was spent watching the entire video to catch any issues.

"Ohhhh yesss," I moaned as the silicone head of my dildo pushed through my labia and poked my G-spot.

Now that I had a working laptop again, I was eager to resume my typical editing routine.

"Mmm." I bit my lip as my wrist deliciously bobbed my silicone toy in my pussy.

My right hand was busy between my legs with the toy while my left alternated between editing on my phone and scrolling through on the trackpad of the laptop that rested beside me on the bed.

-JimyJam: You're so weird but so hot holy shitt more mess pls.-
-AnonWAMFan: amazing coverage everytime! Wow do u do custom?

While I waited for my phone to finish exporting the final video, I couldn't resist and started reading all the new comments on my site. Usually, I'd grab my knee socks and just diddle myself while I browsed until I felt tired, but after feeling edged for the whole day, I deserved to be extra slutty.

50,112 Views

My mouth and pussy had watered when I saw the number, as I had logged back in earlier. I had planned to at least put a shirt on while I edited, but when I saw it, I wound up tossing my damp towel on the bed. The goosebumps that speckled all over my nude body told me I was cold, but the sweat from my forehead and between my thighs told me that I was doing fine staying warm.

iMovie: Export Complete for FluffyFollowup Project

I made sure to scroll to a new set of comments to read before my free hand fished for the cord and connected my phone to the laptop. Quiet moans and chuckles, along with the sound of my dildo squishing into my wet pussy filled the room as I continued reading while my phone started the file transfer.

The stark difference between the comments from my regulars and the ones from the new fans was delightfully amusing.

New people reminded me of the first time I discovered this flavor of masochism back at the apartments during my little baking accident.

Curiosity, doubt, and questioning. Why does it feel so good? Why was it so hot to see myself morph into such a messy, unrecognizable form?

-Party77: Is this performance art! Do you actually enjoy this?-

-anonaaaa34: i want to say ew and yuck but you seem like having a good time.-

Regulars were always quite technical. Affirmations of the scope of mess, recommendations on what to do next, or simply knowing how to push my buttons. They were the ones who seemed to get it and appropriately labeled me as such.

-PieGuy1992: incredible. love seeing u getting ruined. Such a naughty bitch.-

-WAMPoland:Best messy content ever. Great full coverage and truly messy whore.-

Schlunk!

"Ohhh fuck."

I felt my toes curl on the fluffy comforter as the first orgasm of my after-party hit. My moan turned to a shudder as I relished in the sensation and felt the warm wave pulse through my naked body. My pale skin, now visible after I sprayed off all the ooze, was speckled with shades of pink as the orgasm slowly faded away.

The dildo was still lodged in my pussy. My hand wanted to continue pumping and chase after a second orgasm, but the satisfaction of release after an entire day of edging had felt like it had finally ended. I lounged there and basked in that moment. Minx finally got her release for the day and was ready to be dormant again.

After a great exhale, I turned my attention back to the phone.

-File Transfer: 95% complete-

Eager to show my latest appreciation to my wave of new fans, I clicked on the corner tab of my site and prepared my next post. That way, as soon as the file transfer completed, I could just attach it and finally get some proper sleep.

***
Title: Fluffy Fan Followup!

Body: Apparently, I've been super popular recently! I'd love to use my words to thank the various people that've been sharing and posting my vids. And of course welcome all of you. But you guys (and maybe couple of gals?) would prefer if I showed my appreciation in a different way.

Sorry for cut to first couple min of video. My pc took a shit and I finally learned what people were complaining about with mobile access so editing on it was limited but I think the vid still turned out pretty well and thankfully I just HAD to cover my face first

Whether a long time fan, or a new one, I hope you guys enjoy and hello to all the people that see more of me on Reddit or Youtube or wherever! Keep all your eyes on me because I've got way more coming (and more cumming) your way

MMM

***

A grin and a yawn clashed on my face after I finished typing my post out. All it needed was the file attachment, and with a couple of clicks, I could get back to the normal world. With gigabit internet at my house, it should have been a quick upload.

-FluffyFollowup.mp4 finished transferring to DAPHNEWORKPC. File ready to share!-

Then my heart sank as a second notification popped up.

-Docu-Sync: FluffyFollowup.mp4 shared with LOUISWORKPC.

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Labeled female

Comments:

BlueGriffin:

monday

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Oh boy. Lots of fun characters introduced. Lots of great locations to try out later. Plus a very dangerous game given all of the work equipment/wifi/etc. looking forward to more.

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