And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for…. er…. maybe not. I’m Crystal, and I write over at Said She. I’m not sure exactly what my handsome husband will be posting about today, but today I’m going to talk about stuff people probably never needed to learn about: what it’s like to be a camwhore.
Back in about 1999 when webcams and digital cameras started to get more affordable, I had some money and decided that I wanted to be able to upload pictures of myself to the internet without needing to pay to get them developed first and then convert them with the giant scanner we had at the time. I priced out some digital cameras, checked some prices on webcams, and decided that a webcam would be more fun, as well as cheaper. I ordered one online and within a week was up and running on some site that let you stream a cam feed for free. Being young and sassy and in possession of a vagina, I was immediately a target for the herds of men out there who were enthralled by watching a 22 year old sit at her desk and surf the web. I made some friends, and much to my amusement I was introduced to the fact that the majority of my viewers were absolute nutjobs. But I had fun being one of the handful of girls running a non-porn lifecam.
Soon that one little webcam became 2, and then 3, then 4. At one point I had 2 cams in the bedroom, one in the living room, one in the kitchen, and a small wireless one that I could put in my bathroom for those times I decided to treat my viewers to the fogged up view of my shower. Tired of the near constant requests to get naked for free, I decided to try my hand at camwhoring, where the requests were the same, but I got paid for it. I signed up at one of those sites where viewers can pay by the minute, uploaded some test pictures, got naked and logged in. And let me tell you, what an eye opening experience that was.
I learned that sexually, there is something out there for everyone. I learned that the web is full of assholes. For every guy out there logging into my chatroom and chatting with me politely, there’s at least 2 who would log in and greeting me with “SHOW ME YOUR BOOBS!” Repeat viewers earned nicknames, just like regulars at any other sort of service job would get: the feet guys, the smoke guys, the bellybutton guy, the gum guy, the guy who liked to see the texture of whatever I was wearing. Somewhere on that site, if my archives are still there, is a picture with the viewer comment “such a sexy deep button!!!” Someone once offered me double my going rate if I’d get funky with everything from the TV remote to kitchen utensils (I politely declined). One night some guy paid me a bunch of money to get out a big bottle of vegetable oil and cover myself in it because he liked girls to be shiny. Eddie never lets me forget the fact that it was also very, very slimy, and my hands were so slick that I couldn’t turn the knobs on the shower and needed help getting clean. Aside from the remote-dude and a few other requests, I did it all, and I made some decent cash off of it. I even ran a members-only site for a while, which got me even more cash.
That is, until my family found out what was going on.
Have you ever been caught having sex by a member of your family? Imagine that feeling, but multiply it by however many members of your family were told about the incident immediately after you were caught. Double that total if your grandmother was told. And if you really want complete mortification, have a family member of the opposite sex ask you at a family gathering if you offer family discounts to the private site.
And that moment, right then, was when I decided that I really needed to stop being a camwhore and stick to my day job.