For The Fans

Olivia--Candy Cox to her fans--was used to doing weird shit for money on the internet. She had sucked on her toes, instructed strangers on how to jerk off to the camera, and even painted her face to look like an anime girl to take cross-eyed pictures with her tits out. She had learned quickly that guys paid good for weird stuff. Olivia didn't fuck on camera--in fact, nobody remotely close to her knew that she took her clothes off for money on the internet--but she still made a few hundred a month doing odd things. It was enough that she could make rent.

By comparison, the request that came in that day was among the tamer that she had seen. A user with the obviously-fake name of "Richard Dixon" explained that he had a magical fetish. He liked to pretend that he could magically control women and he would pay for her to make a video. He laid out a series of specifications.

As Olivia read through the request, she started to form a number in her head. She would need to buy a few things, which she normally charged with extra cost back to her fans, and there was a script that she would need to read. It was all misogynistic, as one would expect, but Olivia had long ago accepted that she was paid to help guys live out their fantasies that they were too ashamed to ask for in real life. Olivia formed a number in her mind and then added 20%.

"I'd be glad to do this for you. I love it." She didn't love it, of course, but you always said that when you got a request. It let the guy think that his kinks weren't that weird, even if they were. She quoted the number. In at least a quarter of cases, the conversation would end here. The guy would ghost her, unwilling to pay. Did they think that she was going to be so turned on by their batshit request that she would do it for free?

Richard Dixon came back with a counter-offer. At first, Olivia thought he was joking. He offered three times the amount. He would pay the original amount upfront, then the remaining if she "performed with enthusiasm". Olivia raised her eyebrows. Sure. She could make it believable for that amount. She knew that he was trying to be manipulative, holding out a carrot for her, but she didn't care. If he really was going to pay that much, let him think he was in control of it all.

"Sounds perfect!" Olivia replied back. "I'll get right on it."

She would, too. She realized this would be the most she made from a single request and rent was coming up. If this guy wanted a magically-induced whore, she was willing to play that part, get him off, and get paid.

Olivia went to the store and grabbed a few candles and a large sheet. She found a store that sold red body paint. She already had a dildo that would work well for the specifications. Then, she went to the library and printed off a copy of the script--all the while careful that no one saw what she was working on.

Once back in her apartment, Olivia spread the sheet on the flood, put the candles in a circle, and then went to her closet. She pulled the dildo out that she used for performances, then selected a high g-string and fishnets--as per Mr. Dixon's request. He had requested her topless, which saved the trouble of an uncomfortable bra.

Finally, Olivia set up her camera to point to the sheet. When she first started, she had used her phone, but always had trouble with angles and balancing. She had found a digital video recorder with halfway decent resolution. It worked much better at staying in position.

Once she had the room set up, Olivia went to the bathroom and grabbed the red body paint. She squirted a little onto her fingers and started to draw. She drew two upside-down, five-pointed stars on her chest--one surrounding each tit. Then, moving carefully in the mirror, she wrote the odd, nonsense word across the top of her chest, just above the swell of her breasts. She knew from the script that Richard Dixon had sent her that this was a "magical name". It looked like nonsense to Olivia, but if this is what got him off, she didn't really mind. She had gotten the body paint that would wash off easily.

Finally, Olivia went to her thermostat and lowered the temperature. It would be uncomfortable for a couple minutes, but Olivia knew that the colder air made her nipples smaller and sharper, which guys tended to like. It was the little things you learned as a performer that kept guys coming back for repeat requests.

Her curtains were already pulled and evening had started to set in. She decided to wait for a few minutes for the temperature to drop in the small apartment and the lighting to go down just a little more.

She gave the script another read-through. It wasn't too long--especially considering how much he would pay for it. Olivia thought for a moment about the money he was promising if she was "enthusiastic". Wouldn't it be a little awkward to be holding a paper and reading it? He hadn't specifically requested that she not, but wouldn't that ruin some of the visual appeal? Olivia thought that if she spent a few minutes, committed it to memory, and then recited it without the paper, it might guarantee some of those extra dollars. Conversely, holding the paper might hurt those chances. Olivia decided it was worth a few extra minutes.

She read through the script, then read it again, then again. She looked up from the paper, reciting the lines as best as she could manage. Then, she looked down and found the correction. Olivia had a decent memory and she wasn't trying to remember it forever, just for a single recording. She thought she had it down, but recited it a few more times to be sure.

Satisfied, Olivia took a lighter, lit the candles in a circle on her floor, and then went to the bathroom. She looked herself over one more time, just to make sure she looked sexy and hadn't smeared any of the paint. Then, she went back into the living room. She turned on the camera, pointed it to the circle, got the angle right, and then went and knelt among the candles. She straightened her back, popped her tits up, and tried to look sensual.

Then, she began to recite.

"This name on my body is a stamp of my King

He is my master, my owner, and my everything

I commit my life to him as his willing slave

I shall obey his commands and always behave

I surrender my body, my mind, and my will

I will serve him always with vigor and skill

His word is law and I will obey

From now until my very last day."

Olivia picked up the nearest candle and held it near her body.

"This candle symbolizes my life that was

The life that ends now on this day, because

As I exstinguish it now, I have made my choice

And I submit forever to the commands of his voice."

Olivia blew out the candle. The darkness was instant and all-encompassing. She stifled a little shriek, hoping she wouldn't have to edit it out later. Then, Olivia wondered why it had gotten so dark. She had blown out one candle. Now, thought, all she could see was the little red light on the camera and the bits of light that made it through the curtain. Olivia looked around in a small circle. All the candles around her had blown out.

Olivia sat in the darkness for a moment, listening to the beat of her heart. Could she normally hear it so loudly? Or was it beating extra hard right now? The room was cold, now in the absence of fire. Olivia set down the candle and carefully stood. She didn't want to drip hot wax and start a fire. She stepped over where she thought the candles should be and then approached the wall. She felt a hand up until she found the light switch, which she flipped.

The light filled the room. Much to Olivia's surprise, it looked exactly like it had a moment ago. The sheet was on the ground, bunched up from where Olivia had knelt, and the candles formed a ring around.. A few of the candles were still wisping smoke. The camera was still recording. Olivia reached over and flipped it off.

Olivia chuckled softly. It was alright. She had spooked herself for a moment. Had she just blown really hard on the one candle and accidentally blew them all out? That didn't seem possible... except it had to be. That had to be what happened, Olivia decided firmly. That was the only explanation and that's what it had to be. Anything else was simply ridiculous.

In fact, Olivia laughed as she walked towards the bathroom, Richard Dixon would probably congratulate her on being so enthusiastic that she made the whole thing spooky. She laughed, even as she turned the thermostat back to its normal temperature.

Olivia stepped in the shower, letting hot water relax her tense muscles and wash away the red body paint. She breathed in the hot stream, letting it calm her. She had really spooked herself there for a moment, but it was over now.

She took a long shower, then stepped out and got dressed again. Her new underwear was considerably more plain than what she had worn earlier. A comfortable t-shirt and sweats went on over them. She hooked up the digital camera to her computer, downloaded the video, and pressed play. She watched it through once, to make sure the audio was clear. When the candles all went out, Olivia resisted the urge to stop and replay it. She knew what happened. She blew too hard. No need to investigate further. Again, she could hear her heart beating in her ears.

She shaved off the start and end of the film, opening now with her kneeling in the candlelight, having already settled in place, and ending with her in the darkness. She exported, then sent it to Richard.

Olivia then went around her living room, picking up the now-cool candles, wrapping up the sheet, and disposing of the evidence. She heard her computer make a soft chime as a message came in. She wandered over and looked down. Richard had been on the ball in responding.

"Good girl," Richard responded. Olivia rolled her eyes at the derogatory response, but liked the fact that it came with the promised money.

Another message came through, "Tell me the truth. Is your name really Candy?"

Olivia down and started typing before she even had a chance to think. "No, my name is Olivia." She pressed send, then sat back and wondered what the fuck she was doing. She didn't want anyone to know her real name. That's why she had a pseudonym in the first place.

"What's your last name?" Richard messaged back.

Olivia responded--truthfully--before she even had a chance to think. Then, she stared at this stranger who now knew what she looked like (naked) and what her real name was. All security was out the door. There weren't that many people with her name and it wouldn't take a long google search to find her.

"Where do you live?" Richard asked.

Again, Olivia responded truthfully. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Why was she telling him all this?

"Video chat me," Richard responded.

Immediately, Olivia initiated a video chat on the platform. Richard answered and Olivia got her first look at the man. He was in his 20's, not too bad looking, and had a big smile.

"Hello," Richard said.

"Hi," Olivia said sweetly.

Richard looked at her, frowned, and said, "You aren't dressed up that much, are you?"

"No, I showed and changed after I recorded your video," Olivia explained.

"Go put on something more sexy," Richard said. "I'll wait."

Olivia stood, walked to her closet, and found a sexy, uncomfortable outfit that she had worn for a custom video once. It was a net bodysuit that did a very poor job of covering anything and was very difficult to get on, but it was probably the most erotic thing she owned. She thought there was something sexy about wearing something over everything that covered nothing. She was wearing one bit fishnet.

She heard a voice come from the other room, spoken loudly and carried by her computer speaker, "And do your makeup and hair!" Olivia, now suitably dressed, went to the bathroom and obeyed. While she hadn't washed her hair in the shower, it was thick enough and the shower was long enough that it was damp nonetheless. She took a hairdryer to it and made it look good. She didn't know how Richard liked it, but she thought she looked good. Then, she took out her makeup. She went heavy on the eyeliner and eyeshadow, knowing that it made her look like a pornstar and figuring that was the point. She picked a lipstick that went well with her skin. It took a few minutes, but she thought she looked pretty good. Then, she went back to the computer.

"That's better!" Richard grinned as she placed herself in front of the camera. "That's how my little fuckdoll should look."

Fuckdoll? What the fuck? Where did this guy get off? "Fuckdoll?" Olivia said.

"Yes, you're my fuckdoll now," Richard informed her evenly. "And you like it."

Olivia grinned. Of course she was. That's why she was all dolled up and in this ridiculous outfit, right? So that she looked fuckable? Olivia thought it was weird that Richard hadn't fucked her yet. But she was his fuckdoll and he could decide when he wanted to do that.

Olivia thought that maybe something was odd about this. She hadn't thought she was his fuckdoll earlier, had she? Why was that so clear to her now? In fact, she had just spoken to the man for the first time today.

"You should call me 'Sir' or 'Master'," Richard told her. "I am your Master after all."

"Yes Master," Olivia said, still grinning dumbly.

"Let me see that perky body of yours," Master said. Olivia stood up so he could see her clearly.

"Oh yeah, I love your tits," Master observed.

"Thank you, Sir," Olivia said. She did have great tits, she knew. She was glad that Master thought so too. It would be a shame if she was a fuckdoll that had bad tits.

"Turn around," Master said.

"Yes sir," Olivia said, turning slowly so he could see her ass.

"Give it a spank for me," Master said.

Olivia slapped her ass.

"Harder."

Olivia obeyed.

"Yeah, that's nice," Master said. "Sit back down."

Olivia sat back in front of the computer.

"I think you should come visit me," Master said.

"Ok, Master," Olivia nodded. That did sound like a good idea.

"I'm going to get you a plane ticket tonight," Master said. "Pack up all your sexy things. Nothing plain. And bring whatever you need to look hot."

"Yes sir," Olivia nodded fervently. She was mentally cataloguing all of her outfits, thinking of which ones to bring and which ones to leave at home.

"Don't tell anyone where you're headed," Master instructed her. She heard him typing. "Alright, are you ready to write down a number?"

"Yes sir!" Olivia nodded. He read off the number and Olivia wrote it down on a sticky note by her computer.

"This is the reservation number for your flight," Master said. "Give me your phone number and I'll text you when you land."

Olivia rattled off the number and Master read it back to her. Then, he told her to go back and shut down the video call.

Olivia excitedly hurried to her closet, throwing all of her sexy lingerie and kinky outfits into a duffle bag. Luckily, each one wasn't much fabric, so she could fit most of them and her makeup into it. Then, she pulled on an outfit over her net bodysuit. They'd never let her on the plane otherwise. The fishnet material was still visible on her arms and legs, but Olivia thought that her Master would like that.

Olivia took a rideshare to the airport, got her ticket, and was in the air three hours later.

---

Olivia got off the plane and had a text. She had a couple texts from friends, actually, but she zeroed in on the one from a new number that read: "This is your Master." Olivia sent back a quick, "Hello Master. Your fuckdoll has landed."

The text back was fairly immediate. "Good. Get your bag. I'll be picking you up." He included a location. Olivia, butterflies in her stomach to *finally* meet her Master, stifled a giggle. The man to her left had been judging the fishnets crawling out of her sleeves and shorts all flight, but she didn't care anymore. The outfit wasn't for him, it was for her Master.

Olivia got her bag, went to the pickup spot, and waited. It wasn't long before the car pulled up, her Master rolled down the window, and Olivia saw in person the man that she was to serve.

"Hello sir," Olivia said with a large smile. It was genuine, not performative, erupting spontaneously out of the excitement of finally seeing the man who had meant so much to her for so long... was that right?

"Get in," the man commanded her.

Olivia set her bag in the back of the car and sat in the passenger seat.

"Turn off your phone," he said. Olivia obeyed.

"Strip," the man ordered as he started driving. Olivia stripped down to the fishnet bodysuit. A wandering hand felt her body while his eyes stayed on the road.

"Blow me," the man ordered. Olivia happily bent over and unbuckled, finding him hard and ready. Olivia began to suck, thinking how lucky she was to be serving.

Olivia had never actually sucked dick while driving before. She had blown a few boyfriends in her life, but somehow this was different. That was a girlfriend trying to keep a man happy. This was a fuckdoll serving out her purpose. She took the cock deep, letting her mouth grow accustomed to it so she could push further. Eventually, she hit the limits of her mouth, where the tip of the cock was pushing against her throat. She tried to push further, but her body seemed unwilling to force it. A couple times, a bump of the car pushing and Olivia thought she would choke.

For just a moment, Olivia wondered what the fuck she was doing. Here she was, hundreds of miles from home, with a man who she hadn't known, who spoke to her in short, condescending orders, sucking him off. What the fuck? How had she gotten here?

But she was his fuckdoll, wasn't she? That was what was important. And as new as Olivia was to the whole concept, she was pretty damn sure that fuckdolls sucked their Master's cock. With both of those thoughts firmly established in her mind, Olivia shrugged to herself and continued sucking.

Suddenly, Olivia felt her Master's hand in hear hair. He pushed downward and the border in her throat that had yet to be punctured by cock disappeared. She let out an involuntary, wet, gurgle as the cock impaled itself in her throat. But she never resisted. Her Master held her there for a moment, then lifted her head a little. Olivia obeyed, letting his dick slide out of her mouth. He reversed suddenly and Olivia found it back in her throat. Her Master repeated the process and soon a rhythm formed. Olivia's face jerked him off, with his hand in her hair to set the pace as he wished. It didn't seem to matter that Olivia gagged. It didn't matter that it was degrading or painful. It only mattered that her Master wanted it and therefore he was going to get it. Olivia again considered how happy she was in her current position.

Suddenly, Olivia found that it was not just cock in her mouth anymore. Hot cum mixed with the saliva, filling her mouth suddenly with a salty taste.

"Swallow, bitch," her Master ordered and Olivia hurried to comply. She swallowed, even as her Master continued to use her face for his jerking off. Olivia began to time her swallowing to the brief periods of time where a cock was not in her throat. She built a new rhythm: Swallow, gag, breathe, gag, swallow, gag...

Finally satisfied, her Master pulled her head up and, with a popping noise, the dick finally emerged from her mouth.

"Good slut," her Master said. Olivia glowed with the compliment.

"Fix your makeup," her Master ordered. Olivia immediately reached back for her bag, found her makeup kit, and pulled down the mirror in the sunshade. She found that her lipstick had smeared and the water had gotten around to her cheeks. She stood as steady as she could as she fixed herself up. She hoped she was back up to prime fuckableness now.

Master drove to a house on a backroad surrounded by barren fields. Tall fences stood around it. Once inside, Olivia was surprised to see several dozen other girls. All of them were beautiful, full-chested, well-toned girls and none of them wore any more than skimpy lingerie. Olivia saw a few lounging next to a pool. She saw another couple on stripper poles through the front window of the house. She saw another (admittedly only from behind) kneeling in front of a man--His hand in her hair made it very clear that she was performing the same service that Olivia had just performed.