Memoirs Of Miss L

Author's note:

This is the beginning of an idea for a novel I have, and so this is an extremely slow-burn of a story, and doesn't get to any actual sexual writing until the very end. If you want to just masturbate, I'd suggest you skip over to that part. If you like reading fiction that isn't simple and plain pornography, I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the story as well. Whether you do enjoy or not it, please let me know in the comments. As I've said, I hope to turn this into something novel-length, thus any feedback on the premise, the characters or the writing (sexual and not sexual) would be appreciated. If you do like it, you can consider it a preview of a novel, I guess.

*****

CHAPTER 1

"Are you mad at your ex-lover? Did an ex-friend humiliate you? Would you like to take revenge from them, by striking them exactly where they are vulnerable? I will hurt them, exactly as you wish me to, exactly as they hurt you.

My specialty is befriending people on social media by seeping into their circles, pretending to be like them, pretending to be friends, and then attacking them when and where they are vulnerable.

People won't care if the attack comes from someone they don't even know, but they will if it comes from someone they've come to see and accept as a friend.

I can be any gender, have any sexual orientation, ethnicity, religion, anything you see necessary to deceive them. I can be simply a friend online, or an interested fuck buddy, or a prospective and lonely girlfriend or boyfriend. I can be anything.

I'm a professional. I can guarantee results, but this is a long con and costs increase depending on the severity of misery and depression you want them to experience."

That was my Craigslist post, word for word, none of which was a lie. I am a professional, and this is how I make my living. I make people miserable on the internet, one shitty ex at a time. And yes, it is a full-time job. It involves stalking people online, creating new accounts for each one, carefully selecting who to follow and what to tweet, and etc. One other important part is keeping the clients updated. Most of them want to know: when will they suffer?

Currently, I have 5 clients, each with a different tale, and a desire for revenge. This morning, when I woke up, I had received a bunch of new emails, most of which were boring shit, but one of them caught my interest. I had my cereal while looking at the email again and again, contemplating. In the end, I decided to take the job.

I updated the other four on the recent news while I waited for details from the fifth.

"Yes, I know that he made his account private. I'm working on it, I have direct contact thanks to an online friend of his."

"No, she still hasn't sent me nudes. I do not want to push it harder, in case she loses interest in me."

"Hello, yes, I'm going to need more information on his hobbies. Anything you can give me."

"Yes, we have exchanged nudes and sexted for half an hour. You may find his nudes and the sexts attached."

Of course I don't send nudes of my own body, even if it is, frankly speaking, quite attractive. That would be like using my actual name. Online, I'm not Lucy. I'm Miss L. And to trick people, I employ, let's say, contractors for exclusive photos that can't be found elsewhere online. I have sets of nudes (male and female of all sizes, shapes, and colours) ready to be sent at any moment, and can request special photos if necessary. And besides, even if I were okay with sending my own nudes, not everyone is attracted to women, and I work for people of all kinds of sexualities.

I sent out four separate "Mornin' (:" messages to four different DMs. Tweeted four dumb ass dream tweets from four different accounts. All my consumers were different kinds of people. That's what I call the people I deceive, because they consume the shit I feed them.

First, there is Kevin, a gay asshole, abusive, the one with the private account. He left his boyfriend of 3 years for someone hotter.

Then, there's Paula, yet another flaming homosexual. She really isn't a villain in this one, she did nothing wrong, apparently, except break up with her girlfriend, for legit reasons. But, I don't care if they are evil, I just care about getting my money, getting paid. This is my job.

Next, we have Daniel. Boring old heterosexual, but that has nothing to do with why he's a consumer of mine. He acted like shit to his friend, and his friend wants him to feel how that was like. Instructions include, but are not limited to, spoiling the latest Star Wars movie for him. See, he would make sure to avoid any spoilers online, muting and unfollowing people, but he would not suspect spoilers from an online friend. Who would?

And then there's John. Hetero. Leaker of nudes of exes. Exes want him to experience the same thing.

And you haven't met him yet, but now is a good time as any, so meet the fifth. Douglas. Small dicked shithead. Bisexual. Cheated on his ex-fiancée, Janice, with a man. He's my new consumer. Like many less-endowed men, he works hard to overcompensate for it. He's not rich, but wealthy enough to live comfortably.

The instructions were simple, but so very fun, and as always, subject to change if something better and more satisfying came up. I was to befriend him as an attractive person, hit it off with him, get sexual, send sexts and nudes, plan to finally meet irl to have sex (his courtesy, of course, a lady would never pay for sex), and then completely ditch him. When he asked why afterwards, heartbroken to the bone, I would crush his heart even more: I would never fuck someone with that small a dick. Break his confidence. Destroy his image of himself. Just like he did to Janice. Hell hath no fury like a woman humiliated.

The client contacted me back, gave me more information, deposited the starting fee and off I went. First stop was facebook, obviously, as my client had already given me a link. I made a new document from my templates, just for him, just for the facts I would now gather all about him, and started taking notes.

Name: Douglas G. Truman

Age: 35

Gender: Male

Orientation: Bisexual

Ethnicity: White bread with cheese

... and so it went. Contact info, work, hobbies, client name and contact info, instructions, all that stuff.

It could take me anything from an hour to a week to determine how to go after new consumers. The more the client provided, the better, cuz if not, I'd have to dig in deep first. And even then, not all people are easy to stalk. Some have common names, and some are simply boring, they don't have accounts online or they are hard to find. In the rare cases where the client (still) had access to consumer's computer or phone, I would be in paradise. Their computers and phones can and do me tell many things about them. Their porn habits, hobbies, the things they were curious about, and the things they were ignorant about. How to stalk, approach, and trap them. Unfortunately, this wasn't one of those rare cases, so I had to do it the hard way.

Here are the facts, courtesy of the client and the hard research and stalking of your truly: He is an asshole, but we knew that already, he cheats. Something we didn't know, was that he fancies young guys and gals. Early twenties, perhaps the barely-legal kind. That might come in handy (no pun intended). Now, the hard part is choosing my role. Generally speaking, I don't enjoy deceiving as a man as much as deceiving as a woman. I feel I don't seem as natural as an actual man, but I've gotten better, much better at hiding my shortcomings. So, I could go with an 18-year-old innocent girl looking for a sugar daddy. Or perhaps, a young gay stud looking for holes to fuck and dicks to suck.

I went with the innocent girl looking for a sugar daddy routine. I was now Mary✨. I asked one of my younger-looking contractors to send me something suitable for a profile picture, and logged in to one of the accounts I had prepared way beforehand. Just as I was done following some new accounts suitable to the interests of my new consumer, I received a selfie from my contractor. In the picture, her smiling red lips were beautiful, and so were her figure. I decided to crop it so the focus was on her lips, neck, and cleavage.

I have two tips for anyone aspiring to do my job: first of all, don't. It's hard. Hard for you to do, yes, but also hard to deal with emotionally, if you're not morally corrupt. I am. But the second thing is, you need to learn to attract them to yourself, not go running after them. Especially with men. You should never be the one to follow first. Find a way to gather their attention to yourself.

In this case, I had his twitter (thanks to my client), and found a tweet of his that went viral-like, at least a few hundred RTs. I found the person who retweeted it last, then liked it through them. It's all about the pretences, do not forget that. Here, I pretended to find them by accident, then followed it up by going into their profile and liking other things. It really doesn't matter what. By the time you like several, they will be interested. They truly are simple-minded, honestly speaking.

I had put up the bait, and sure enough, soon he took it. He responded by going into my own profile, and liking my tweets. Honestly, most of them I had stolen from viral accounts. It doesn't matter. I'm not here to build an ethical profile, I'm here to trick an asshole, and it worked. He followed me, and I followed back.

In the meanwhile, I of course had other work to do as well. I took part in mentions with friends of Kevin, hoping he would see me. I talked with Paula about her daily, mundane life. I RTd video game tweets, news and jokes and memes for Daniel. And John, oh, I ignored John. I needed him to get way more horny for me before responding to him.

Half an hour or so passed, and my contractor sent me a new selfie, and I tweeted it with #Ihatemondays. Douglas liked it in an instance. Another half an hour, and I've liked a joke tweet of his, and RTd some memes I thought he'd like, and he did. Before lunch, I went out for a walk, then showered. By evening, he sent me the first DM.

"Hi (:"

"Hey ☺"

"Sup?"

"Nm, just tired from college lol"

"Cool"

"wbu"

"Oh, work stuff"

From here on, we talked all night, and gotten to know each other, except, not really. I already knew all the things he said about himself, and basically all the things I told him were lies. I sensed he wanted to make the conversation sexual already, and decided that it was too early.

"Hey, so, I gotta sleep now, early class in the morning lol"

"Sounds more like mourning to me am I right :D"

"Yeah lmao"

I logged out of that account, and kept on talking to the others. John and I were sexting again. He kept sending dick pics. Fine with me. Paula was drunk on half a bottle of wine, and whining to me about work. Whatever. I had finally gained access to Kevin, he let me in. I had written several mentions to some tweets of his, one of which was about Hornet and gay sex. Progress at any rate. Daniel was watching some boring ass movie again. Ugh.

And so, another day was soon over, and I went to bed, watched an episode or two on Netflix, and texted some actual fuckbuddies of mine to see who was up for getting laid soon. It had been a while, and I needed some action myself after dealing with these losers for so long.

CHAPTER 2

Some of my fuckbuddies had replied by morning, and I lazily replied back as I got up and ate some cereal. And then the updates, once again. John's client seemed satisfied with all I had gathered, and said this might be enough. It's always sad to be done with a client, and of course to kill the account that I had used for them. Oh well. I still had the others, and would get many more submissions once the word about the revenge John's ex had taken got out. Reddit was amazing that way. My website never had more traffic than when viral stories got out. Anyway. I killed the account with John. It wouldn't be long now.

As Mary, I tweeted "Good morning ☕ 😴 #coffee #gimmesleep" with an old pic of a takeout cup of coffee on a table in the sun. Some of the actual followers amongst my fake ones liked it, and so did Douglas. In fact, he replied with a picture of his own, a wide ceramic cup of tea, with #ewwbeanjuice. It must have been in his office, I could see his laptop on the desk, and some stationery. I smiled when I saw this, because I could sense an opportunity. I sent him a DM.

"Don't say that three times lol"

"Oh my god," he replied. "I didn't know your generation knew about Beetlejuice."

"Lmaoo, yeah dude our parents made us watch all kinds of shit."

"That's cool," he said, and then "Hopefully I'll be a parent like that one day."

"You wanna be a daddy?" I asked, smirked. I actually smirked. I knew he had a kink about being called daddy. I could imagine his tiny dick springing into action upon my question.

"So to speak :D" Jesus old man, learn to use emojis. Creepy. Ugh, whatever. I would only be teasing for now, not actually having sexual conversations, and so I changed the subject, like a good lil girl who got uncomfortable would.

"So, what's work like Doug?"

And he talked about it for so long and in so much detail, I swear any girl would dry the fuck up real quick. The sad thing is, I think he expected me to be impressed. That I would go, "wow, a real man, with a real job! Save me from these frat boys around me, daddy!" Needless to say, that did not happen. All he got in response to his ten long messages was, "Cool". Now, I don't claim to be clairvoyant, but I'm pretty sure I could sense his frown and disappointment at my complete lack of enthusiasm. And, I must say, it tasted so delicious. I thought to myself, "That's exactly how every single girl who ever saw your dick felt, Douglas boy. Sad and disappointed. Betrayed by something so small."

He did not reply.

I moved on, and texted Paula (who was hangover) good morning, and liked some tweets of Kevin and Daniel. While waiting for updates from clients, I did house chores. By the time I was done, it was certain. I was done with John, and now the story was out. Soon, all his friends would see his dick. I laughed when I saw that he had turned his account private. It was too late for that. Way too late, Johnnie boy.

Then I checked my bank account, and that made my day. I texted Charles, one of the aforementioned fuckbuddies.

"Come over tonight

Time for a lil celebration

Wine on me, food on you x"

"Got it babe 🍝🍷"

I liked Charles, his personality, his body, his jokes, his cooking skill, his cock, and that he never attempted to move beyond what we have. He never wanted us to be beyond lovers. Nothing romantic. We eat, drink, watch some show and fuck. Simple and nice, good for when you just need some good cock. Honestly, I'm using his cooking and fucking skills as much as he is using my body as a hole to cum in.

I went out to buy groceries and a nice bottle of wine, and a cheap one. It took longer than I expected, and there were messages from Douglas and Paula by the time I was back. "Hey 🎈" I replied to both. The trick is to let them talk. Most people just want to speak more than listen. Of course, I'm like that as well, just not when I'm on the job. When I'm on the job, I listen. Half the time, they help my job more than I do.

"I missed you," Paula texted me.

"I missed you too, baby

How's the headache?"

"Better, took some painkillers, watcha been doing?"

"Oh, nothing, really, just working on my book." Yeah, I'm an aspiring author with Paula. She gets boners for literature, her ex says. Go figure.

"Has Sally and Kate kissed already?"

"Oh no, I'm still building up some tension, gotta keep up the climax and all"

"Oh well

Can't wait to read it 😘"

And then, I had the tiny dick to deal with. "Hows school lol"

And so I had to make up a bunch of things that supposedly happened while Mary is at college. Cool. Not boring at all. Nope. The things men will put up with to get laid.

"Cool :D"

Usually, I would end the conversation there. Not reply, have him come to me. However, I had plans for the evening, and definitely didn't want work to occupy my mind, and so I kept chatting him up. We talked about food, dogs, cats, and then work again. This took an hour or two. Charles would come home soon.

"So hey," I started. "I'll catch some movies tonight, talk to you later"

"Oh okay, have fun (:"

I will, Douglas. Thank you.

I cleaned up the flat, took out the trash, made everything nice and tidy. I showered, and got into a skirt and a shirt, no bra. The final touch was a plain, black velvet choker. Soon, there was a loud knock on the door. I opened it, and there he was. My handsome man. Charles was tall, and mostly fit, the kind where they don't have showing abs, but are still muscular. He didn't have any hair, and was clean-shaven, but it worked for him. His smile was pretty enough to make up for lack of facial hair, and honestly, I like my black men a bit better without hair anyway. He got in, and we kissed.

"Charles," I said, embracing him. "It's been a while." I touched his firm ass with one hand and touched all around his upper back with the other. I wish I could say I was whispering into his ear, but he was too tall for that. "I'm going to fuck you now, then you'll cook for me. In gratitude."

"Yes, miss," he said, smiled, and kissed me back. He lifted me up, the bastard, and I kissed and sucked on his neck all the way to the couch. He sat down, still holding me in his arms, and I moved a bit to sit on his lap. I kissed his neck, and he kissed mine. I sucked his lips, and he sucked mine. He squeezed my butt, and my hands ran all over his arms and chest. He moved his hands over my thighs, touching them lightly with his fingertips and then giving short squeezes. He kissed me, from my lips to my neck, my chin and jaw, down to my collarbone and shoulders. He removed my shirt, and I removed his. Our bare chests touched each other, and he gave me his first nipple kiss of the night. I felt his large bulge against me, and I felt my own wetness. I unbuttoned his jeans, and he slipped his fingers under my skirt. Finally, I had it in my hands again.

Now. I've gotta say. I'm not crazy about dicks. I can take them or leave them. I certainly don't need them to cum. I mean, they are nice when they fill you up, not gonna lie, but still, usually not crazy about them. But boy, the way Charles used his, that was a real treat. And honestly, I liked his dick well enough. It was pretty. You don't really hear that about dicks. Pretty. Long? Sure. Big? All the time. Thick? Often. Nice? Not unheard of. Pretty? Pretty dicks are rare. Charles' dick was pretty, plus all the other things I just listed. I wouldn't be fully lying if I told you his dick was the only thing keeping me from going full lesbian instead of bisexual.

When I say big and long and thick, I don't mean like monstrous. It was just... proportionate. It fills me the right way. Even the foreskin was just ideal. Just long enough to slip my tongue under, not too long that it was hard to pull back. I loved it. It was enough of a challenge to deepthroat, but also rewarding. Okay, I haven't actually measured it, but I've been in this business long enough to say confidently that it was about 8 inches and a half, and thicker than I could wrap a single hand around. My fingers would literally not touch when I grabbed it. Not that I'm a size queen, but still, I don't know if I could do with dicks smaller than his, anymore. I don't know if I could actually feel them inside me. But on the other hand, I mean, yeah, I've had bigger in my time, but none of those felt as good as Charles' does. Maybe it's the sexual compatibility between us. Who knows. At any rate, I finally got my favourite toy back in my hands. That's all that mattered.