Sanji had to admit, it wasn't his ideal choice of employment, but damn did the money just keep getting better. His poor donate button, he wasn't sure it would be able to handle anymore incoming cash flow, honestly. It had him pausing in what he was doing, his throat sort of swelling from the sheer excitement of it all.
What was he doing? He was a straight man, a chef apprentice who lived in an apartment over his step father's restaurant. This was not what he was supposed to be doing. And to make matters worse, he couldn't even fully understand why he was doing it. Sanji just knew he loved the attention, the thrill of the anonymity and ,god damn, the attention.
These men, from all over the world were watching him, lusting after him and he didn't have the slightest complaint. It was thrilling and it turned him on more than he liked, which was good, as he moaned, rolling his flushed face to the side as a slight tremor ran down his body, his excitement throbbing.
From the corner of his eye, he stared at the computer screen. This was good, the feedback was coming in floods now just from the sound alone. He had all of them in the palms of his hand. It was something he'd set up randomly one day, having seen some other internet stars of his interest, aka the ones with boobs, doing the same and opting to try and earn some cash. He'd never expected it to inflate into something so out of control and viral such as this.
To the right of the screen was nothing but comments as a live chat came in instantly. Today's view count?Two thousand just in his continent alone. It was electrifying. To the left of it was a mirror of his actions, the feedback to his webcam. It was interesting to watch and see how he appeared to all his minions, but it made him smirk and improve his chirography as well, knowing just how to move and give away everything they wanted to see.
It was his favorite part, though, of the whole thing, mostly because it kept him safe. Thanks to a certain software he'd downloaded once upon a time, his face remained blurred and unrecognizable except for the color of his skin, hair and then of course his raging blush. It was better that way, honestly, considering the amount of generous 'allow me to take away that virgin asshole of yours' posts he got hourly.
In real life, he was just Sanji, the guy that had barely made it through high school from spending most of his time chasing girls and working at the restaurant. It was his passion, cooking, and he worked t the restaurant more often than he liked. But he felt like he owed his old man too much to ever deny a position and he had a feeling it would be his name in the shitty geezer's will.
So Sanji never had any time, really, between school and work to have fun like this, to let loose, to get some actual fucking attention and feel desired. That feeling of being captive only got worse when high school ended and the Baratie, their restaurant, consumed all of his time. Was he reaching out for attention? Yes. Did it bring in good income? Sure, whatever. Did he do it because he had daddy issues? Probably, who gave a shit?
Not Sanji. Creating his 'catch a peek' blog was the best decision he'd ever made. He could still hold his shitty real life, studying cuisine under his step dad and keep the Baratie going strong. Then at night, like this, when the old man was tucked away in his damn sound proof room, Sanji could be Prince. The infamously titled 'Virgin' Prince who had one of the tightest asses on the internet and a legion of horny followers. That and he got to jack off and let off shitty work steam and get paid for it.
Most of them were male, sure, but Sanji didn't particularly mind. As long as they were having fun on the ride and couldn't actually find out who he ever was, things were good.
A grin spread across his face before he held his breath, focusing and adding in another drenched finger into his backside, groaning out as it curled inside his body along with the two before it. His other hand was on his member, pumping it and giving himself a dose of a double whammy, both front and back stimulation until finally, since this was just going to be a quick and fast broadcast tonight anyway, releasing into his hand, a loud moan escaping from deep in his throat as his body shuddered.
The spent cook rested back into his computer chair, where he did most of his quickies and gazed lazily at the screen. There was something bitter sweet about the end of the performance and kind of awkward the way he'd violated the silence in his room, but at least now finally he could take a moment to see how it favored in his audience's eyes.
They were in an uproar, positively at least. A handful were announcing reaching their climaxes as well, which, though it somewhat deterred Sanji, he kindly looked over. A lot of others told him what they'd do to help him feel extra good or even suggested him going for some of the things they spotted in the background in his room or some of the toys from his earlier videos to spice it up even if it was a quickie. Then, of course, there was always the dumb 'What did I just watch?' 'Wow I can't believe this shit actually exists' 'What an attention whore' comments Sanji just downright ignored all together.
It made him sigh as he slowly sat up to his seat and reached to turn his webcam off, his performance complete. No, those people wouldn't understand why he was doing it, hell probably not even the ones that liked watching it. Could Sanji even say himself that he knew what he was doing either? Perhaps not, but the cook still liked to think he knew.
At the end of the day, he was still Sanji, his life unchanged even if he went and did dirty things online for strangers. He'd wake up tomorrow and go back to work like nothing ever happened and he'd be okay with that. Though, he couldn't help but smile excitedly at the somewhat large cash number gathered at his donation button. That particular button was helping him toward his dream of owning his own restaurant and Sanji wasn't going to deny the gathering funds to his savings account was a pretty penny.
So maybe it was just for the attention or because he was bored or for his dream. He wasn't sure, he just knew it had its benefits. He could see himself being 'Prince' for a long while if this kind of attention kept up or even somehow managed to get better. He was totally pulling a Hannah Montana in this bitch.
Usually, at this point, after Sanji had cleaned himself up with a wash, he returned back to his desk, swirling in the chair a bit before clicking onto the comments. With the chat during the live feed he often forgot there was an option to comment on the video, something that's a lot more permanent and didn't require a login with an account. The blond usually just considered those the shy ones.
However, they weren't always good and praiseful like Sanji liked. In fact, Sanji had only ever gotten one real criticism and from the same person each time under the same name. Mr. Marimo. He clicked his tongue in annoyance the moment he scrolled and the fresh new critique for the evening.
He hated this bastard. He didn't even know him, hell a lot of the other people in their little industry didn't know him either, but he hated him. It was like he knew how, out of almost anyone else who ever worked, to get under Sanji's skin and sour his attention high. After almost every video and post he just had to have something snarky to add to it.
Sanji didn't even care if his name was actually highlighted green, which was the equivalent of being a high roller on this website, aka he was someone fucking special, he thought he should really be the one to go fuck himself. The guy didn't make sense either, because even with that special colored name title which meant something important, the link went nowhere, which probably meant he was just some hacker nerd trying to make himself look more important.
The cook narrowed his eyes, reading the first line and clenching his teeth.
'The body isn't the only weapon used in sex appeal, you should really show your face and your eyes more, they show the real lust. It'd get you more money if you wanted. Unless, of course, you're ugly as fuck then I totally get it, keep hiding that shit face. Nice ass. -Mr. Marimo.'
It was always like that. Some weird ass advice like he was some damn sex sensei who knew it all. And he always, on every single post, insisted he showed his face. He had to be the biggest pervert and creep of them all wanting to see it though, Sanji figured, since he was the only one out of them all who ever really asked to see it or to see his eyes. Anytime it was mentioned elsewhere, it's because they wanted to imagine something thick from their bodies to be inside it and all that nasty shit Sanji wasn't even about to get into.
Most of the time Sanji could ignore it, but damn he knew how to fire him up. His face was average at best in some ways, what did some fucking internet spammer know? He watched and criticized some random stranger jack off, for Christ's sake!
Of course, that thought always made Sanji bite his tongue in retreat because well, he was that guy jacking off, but still. It relieved him, though, that he never really had to address the asshole personally. His followers, who had started calling themselves his knights, had already jumped on to the scene and began flagging and spitting hate right back at them. It was amusing to watch how they all gathered and protected their 'Prince' and it did make him feel better he didn't have to really confront it himself – well he never actually replied to any of his comments or followers before, so it wasn't unusual he didn't- but it was only short lived. Mr. Marimo never replied to their hate either and despite that and remarks made to him and even threats, he continued on and commented on everything Sanji had.
Author's Note: Yeah. That's right. Time for Turtle to practice writing naughty naughty things , you ready to read? This story is based off an rp I shared once with Mitsu-chan! I definitely was one of my favorites.
Would love to know what you think of this idea XD proceed ahead with caution to bad naughty writing things
THANK YOU MyladyDay for betaing you sly woman you.