Starry Skies: A Serial Novella

Hello, dear readers

My life is so full of romance lately that it is impossible to contain it in one post. I started to hand-write a version for later publication when I boarded my plane in Gran Canaria. When it landed in London, 4.5 hours later, I was still scribbling. 

For this reason, I offer you Starry Skies, a serial novella. Let us begin at once with Chapter 1, and you will see how dramatic everything is and what a large cast of characters it involves.

To begin this story, we must travel back in time to about 3 or even 4 weeks ago.


I received a message on my favourite dating app from a very polite and intelligent-sounding British boy with a degree in maths and a blurry photo. Let’s call him Harry, because he is quite posh. Usually I simply block-and-delete anyone with unclear photos because they are invariably hiding something, but in this case I indulged him because of the maths degree and because, at 24, he seemed too young to be married, which is usually what the hiding is about. I asked him to explain himself and he revealed that he is a full-time camwhore, he tries to keep it somewhat secret and this is why his face did not appear clearly on the dating website, because it appears very clearly indeed on some other, less salubrious, websites, along with the entire rest of his body.

I wasn’t sure what a camwhore was, and perhaps you, gentle reader, may be unsure as well, so I shall explain. A camwhore, or cam model, as they like to be called, rents a space on a commercial website owned by a third party. It is exactly equivalent to renting a room in a brothel, except it is digital so they can work from home. In this virtual room, they strip naked in front of a camera and broadcast themselves doing unspeakable things for a live audience. The audience is mostly male, as you can imagine. These men text comments and requests to the model and pay tips, which are real money, using a payment system that is set up by the website operator. The most successful cam boys and girls do it as a full time job and can make a wage that significantly exceeds what they could have earned pouring coffee in Starbucks. There is more I could say about this vile business, but that will do. I hope I haven’t upset you too much.

So, Harry revealed this intriguing and disturbing news, and said that I could look at his Tumblr, which I accepted because I wanted to see his face. He gave me the link. I went to the Tumblr where I was able to see his face (nice, intelligent, like his messages) and also viewed the rest of his body, in a state of arousal, which was considerably more than I asked for or was expecting. On the Tumblr was a link to his room at the brothel. I did not go there, due to already having seen too much. It was quite enough, I already felt like I’d sexually assaulted him by looking at his Tumblr, I certainly had no desire to see him giving a live performance. However, I now had a great deal of curiosity about the brothel itself, so while I was waiting for Harry to be finished with some important Maths and become available to meet me, I went to visit another room, randomly selected, where another boy was hard at work, debasing himself, and this is where I met Fyodor, Harry’s Russian counterpart and direct competitor.

**To Be Continued**

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