Samantha on the Swing Pt. 01

The Check

Samantha looked down at the check in her hands. She could feel her heart beating in her chest and that hollow sense of cold emptiness in her stomach. She tried to think about what that check meant. It was rent. It was gas. It was pints of her favorite ice cream and her streaming subscription. It was a job, and the pay was more than she could hope for one night's work.

Samantha couldn't stop her thoughts from wandering back to the first message she received from her future employer. She had only been on that site for a few weeks, but her account was already gaining a small following. Apparently, people enjoyed her short stature, ample stomach, full thighs, large breasts, pale skin and straight, black hair, and they were willing to pay her for exclusive access for private photos.

At first, she had been uncomfortable with the idea of selling her body online, but she needed the money, and with each photo she sold, she grew more daring. As her confidence grew with each new fan, Samantha started posing in increasingly risqué outfits and seductive positions. The first fully nude photo she dared to take sold for $20. Not bad for a few minutes of work. Of course, she couldn't deny the bubbling satisfaction she felt as she read her fan's lusting comments. She did that. Her body did that. The thought of men (and even women sometimes) fantasizing about her as they came to her photos drove her wild in a way she never thought it would. Then she got the message.

It was sent to her by a user named "Intimate Entertainment," along with a $100 tip (her highest donation tier). The message read:

How would you like to make some real money? Send me an email. Don't be long.

-Ms. T

At first Samantha had ignored the message, but nobody had ever tipped her $100 before. Something about the tone, the tip, and the email address made the whole thing seem like it could be real. She wrote an email back right away.

Dear Ms. T,

Thank you for your generous tip! I'm interested in your offer. Are you looking for something specific? My prices and limits are all listed on my main page. If what you're looking for isn't on there, I'm sure we could work something out.

Looking forwards to hearing from you,

Sammy, XOXOXO

Within a few minutes, Samantha got a response. The email from Ms. T explained to her that Intimate Entertainment provides models to be used in interactive displays for corporate events. The models are presented nude, bound, and posed in enticing positions. The model is blindfolded and may never see the patrons. Patrons are permitted to interact with the model using toys and equipment supplied by Intimate Entertainment, but are forbidden from physically touching the models. Models are accompanied by a representative of Intimate Entertainment to ensure their safety. Since this was her first gig, Samantha could expect $500 up front and $1,000 upon completion of the contract. If she performed satisfactorily, she could expect more lucrative contracts.

Samantha's attention drifted back to the $500 check in her hands. She still didn't know if accepting Ms. T's offer was a good choice, but it was hard to argue with the money in her hands. A part of her was nervous, and full of questions. What if someone recognized her? Was this safe? Did this make her a prostitute? This could be so embarrassing, what if I start crying? Samantha had never imagined anything beyond her fan page, but a part of her was shivering with excitement. She has to admit, the thought of a room full of strangers paying to practically worship her body sent a tingle down her spine.

She tried to think about it that way. "All I have to do is relax and let a room full of rich strangers take care of me. I can get used to that!" Samantha glanced at the clock: it was already almost 9. She got up from the table and slipped into the silk robe she had been instructed to wear. She loved the way that robe hung around her curves, its silk fabric brushing gently over her sensitive nipples. The robe was sheer, and didn't leave much to the imagination, but Samantha wasn't really thinking about that. Nobody would see her in her car anyway.

Samantha got in her car, and as she drove to the address listed in the email, she thought about how she was going to spend that $1,500.