This Is Who I Am, This Is What I Do

This story is a continuation of an earlier work, "Lemons into Unexpected Lemonade" which you can read here.

https://literotica.com/s/lemons-into-unexpected-lemonade

However, this work also stands alone quite well. You will get enough of the backstory here so you will not be lost. If you are here for the sex,

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I awoke. I was still in the nightgown and panties. I was sticky with sweat and the panties felt gross from my juices having dried on them. Falling asleep had felt good at the time but now I sure wish I had taken a shower first. Fleeting images of uncomfortable dreams escaped the grasp of my memory just leaving me unsettled. I had fallen asleep with the light on and I was still surrounded by my tech. The screen showing Andrew's bedroom was still running and I saw him, by the light of a reading lamp next to his bed, asleep.

I stared at his image, the blankets slowly lifting and settling as he breathed. I grabbed my phone and checked the time, just a bit past midnight. I thought of trying to fall asleep, but I felt too disgusting. Pulling myself out of bed, I made my way to the bathroom and, stripping off my childhood nightgown and panties, I stepped into the shower. After fumbling with the unfamiliar shower until warm water cascaded over me, I relished the feeling of the sweat washing off of me.

It felt good as I ran my fingers through my shoulder length dirty blonde hair. My brain began to spin up and I started to realize that sleep would not be coming soon. Exactly what had I just done? Well, Val, start with the facts. You stripped on camera in front of your uncle. This all happened without him knowing (although probably suspecting) you knew who he was or that you had set up spyware on his computer and watched him while he masturbated. Yeah, so all of that actually happened. Oh, and don't forget he paid almost $3000 for the privilege of watching me.

So those were the facts, or at least a quick summary. Damn, Val, you have one fucked up life. I paused on that thought. Was it really fucked up or just totally bizarre. Fucked up means bad. Is this bad? Again start simple. Do I feel safe? Yes, despite some of the online creeps looking at my soft porn website, I did feel safe. Did I enjoy myself? The stain on my panties were evidence enough, but I also remembered just how excited I felt as I edged my uncle toward orgasm. I felt powerful, beautiful and wanted.

Did I feel guilty? I felt a little guilty for how much he had paid, but he had started this by perving on me and making a masturbation slideshow of my 18 year old body without my consent. And I did not feel guilty about the others who subscribed to my page. Sure, Blitzen paid over $1000 for a handful of pictures of me and others paid as well, but they got what was promised and the second month did better than the first suggesting people think it is worth the money. However, I did feel guilty that I was living this double life and lying to my parents while living under their roof. I was also lying to my friends. In fact, my best friend, Amy, thought I was at some guy's house, so she could cover for me, because I told my parents I was sleeping at Amy's. This lying really sucked.

I climbed out of the shower and wrapped up in a surprisingly nice towel considering the price I had paid for the rental cottage. Aside from the guilt, I think I liked what I was doing. My parents had always said the whole porn thing was an awful evil; maybe so, but it sure was profitable. I was certainly still tentative, but I had fun last night and I looked forward to looking at comments on my site.

However, did I feel in control? That was a hard question. Last night with my uncle online I felt in complete control and it was wonderful. However it was not the most rational part of me that was making decisions. I blushed slightly at just how close to naked I was on camera. My uncle saw my pubic hair through the dampness of my underwear and I was so wet I knew he could see a lot more: my nipples through the thin fabric of my nightgown and even the pink of lips pressed against my panties. It felt wonderful last night, but it felt a bit uncomfortable now. Not wrong, but bizarre. Was that just a leftover part of my Christian upbringing or was it really wrong?

And exactly what was I feeling toward Andrew? Could I love someone who had made that slideshow? Could I not love someone who had apologized in every way possible and done so much to make amends? Could it be just lust? He was gorgeous, but maybe it was just the wonderful feelings he made me feel about myself that I was confusing with love. I wanted him to see me and I wanted to see him. Is that love? I was thinking about him all the time. Was that love or just obsession?

Wrapped in a towel I went back into the bedroom and shoved my dress, nightgown and dirty panties into the duffle bag, and texted (translated so even old people can read it) Amy: **"You up?** It was somewhat of a rhetorical question as Amy would never be asleep so early.

**Sure, fun sleepover, huh?

**LOL Can I come over?

**What happened? Are you safe? I'll kill the S.O.B.

**No, I am safe, and fine. Just, well, let's just talk when I get there.

**Okay, but you are killing me. I GOTS to know more.

I packed up the computer and my other gear and put all the furniture back to normal and headed over to Amy's. When I got there she met me outside, dressed in a pair of baggy cargo pants, Doc's, and a heavy flannel shirt. Typical Amy work clothes. Her work was building computers, programming computers and gaming. Her unruly brown curls were held back with a scrunchy in what could never be called a ponytail, but perhaps a bird's nest. However much she did not try, she was rather pretty with soft brown skin I would die for. Her aquiline cheek bones and broad nose are topped by bright, intelligent eyes.

Amy helped me carry my gear bag and duffle bag into the house. Amy, after seeing the lighting umbrella, and feeling the weight of my gear bag, surely felt her curiosity growing, but she was patient. We walked through her landlord's driveway and into her little basement studio apartment. As I walked carefully across a floor covered in various partially disassembled hardware, Amy's voice called out from behind, "Toss your bag on the bed. Got no other place for it right now." Seeing the accuracy in her words, I tossed the bag on the bed. She followed with the gear bag. With the two bags on the bed there was just enough space for us to collapse between them onto the mattress.

Across the room I admired Amy's self-built gaming rig with its water cooling pump sending colored coolant in and out of her quite large tower. I was no gamer and had no need for so much power, but I still admired the workmanship. I felt Amy's eyes staring at me expectantly, but I continued to look away, trying to find where to start. Amy ran out of patience first. Nudging the gear bag, "So, a guy, right?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry Amy, I lied to you. I lied and used you."

"Val, I am not pissed, but are you going to start talking? I am kind of scared right now to be honest."

"Yeah, well maybe you should be, butI think things are alright; just unbelievably weird." I stopped. What the hell is Amy going to think of me if I tell her this? I thought about what parts of the story to tell and how to navigate around the worst of it and then I stopped. Truth is the only cure for guilt. I looked Amy in her eyes as she waited expectantly, but granting me the time to think things through.

Taking a deep breath, I started. "Look, Amy, you might want to get a sheet of paper. I know you are going to have a million questions, but this is going to be hard for me to say, so I just want to say it all. If you interrupt, I might not be able to start again."

"Wow, okay, Val." She looked really worried as she navigated the maze of computer parts on the floor to her desk and workstation. Grabbing a pen and paper, she clambered back over grabbing an old laptop on the way. Sitting down, she propped the paper on the computer, pen in hand. "Okay, Val, shoot."

I told her everything. Amy wears her emotions on her face, and the full range was put on display as I worked through the story. She looked sickened and furious when I discovered the photos on my uncle's computer. She laughed her evil laugh when I put the spyware on his machine. A little mild curiosity and a good dose of disgust crossed her face when I described watching him masturbate to my photos. Horror replaced them when those pictures ended up on the web. Curiosity and shock followed when she heard my idea. As I described setting up my website, incredulity took over. As I described my growing interest in my uncle and concluding with what I actually had been doing that night, she looked almost beyond acceptance. I finally finished.

She stared at me, at a loss for words until she finally blurted out, "You really cannot be serious. This is all really true?"

I looked at her and I saw that my best friend, at least a part of her, could not believe me. I wondered if it was denial or if she was questioning my sanity. I reached past her and, grabbing my gear bag, slipped out my computer. "Val, I wasn't saying I didn't believe you," she protested.

I shook my head, "It is okay Amy, I get it. I can hardly believe it myself, but if you are going to doubt, then you are going to see." My computer may not be an Amy $7000 deluxe, custom job, but it is damn good with an elegant and streamlined software build. It booted quickly and I logged into Andrea's account. Moments later I was open to my page and I handed her the computer.

Amy sat silently working her way through it. As she did so I watched her. I saw her cycling through first things to say, finally settling on something simple. "Val, you look beautiful in these pictures, like really beautiful." Amy is gay. I don't really lean that way, and any thoughts of experimentation were set aside for a fourteen year old friendship which is not something you risk on a whim. However, Amy did have a deep appreciation for the female form and her words were quite the compliment.

"Thanks," I whispered.

"But, Val, have you thought this through? I mean, this is truly life changing."

I went over with her all I had thought through in the shower at the cottage. She listened and nodded. "Okay, Val, so you are telling me. What about your parents?"

"Amy, how could I tell them?"

She closed the computer, "How could you not? First, I know you have the shell company and what not, but you cannot hide income like this forever. Second, do you really want them to find out from someone else? You might hope this never gets connected to you, but there is a very real chance it will. You need a plan for that, and, Val, you know that too, and you are normally so proactive. It really bothers me that you don't have a plan."

That gave me pause. She was right. "But Amy, you know my dad. I mean, he totally loves me, but this? I mean, I think I might destroy him."

Amy rubbed her forehead. "Yeah, I kind of agree; maybe this would have been a good conversation to have a month ago. So the best plan is to try to hide it forever? Shitty plan if you ask me."

"Got a better one?" My voice was challenging, but I looked at her hopefully.

"Nope, not a one. A good accountant, maybe one as good as your uncle, can probably hide the money, at least for quite awhile. As for the pictures, and now maybe a video? Well, there are a few things I can think of to do. First, I think we can configure your ads not to show to viewers with IP addresses around here, but so many people use VPNs now. However, that would help a bit."

I nodded, angry at myself. I should have done that already. I really had been subconsciously ignoring the problem. Very stupid of me. "You're right. Well, one thing that would help is if I could bring this to my dad once I had significant money in the bank, and I don't mean a few thousand. So maybe I can play for time and bank cash."

Amy shrugged. "Maybe, but right now you are a novelty. How long does that last?"

"Well, a lot of pages like mine do fall off fast, but some consistently make a lot of cash."

"You are betting an awful lot on a long shot, and I do not think this super soft-core stuff will get you there. How far are you really willing to go?"

"I don't know Amy. I really got into it tonight. It's powerful and wonderful doing that to someone. Yet, I am sitting here because I had doubts."

"Not much of a plan, but it is a plan. Make a bunch of cash and tell your dad, hoping to win the race against him finding out some other way. And don't forget; you got blackmailed once. The longer you have a secret identity the more vulnerable you are to blackmail.

"Well, that is something, I guess. Okay, but what do I do about Andrew?"

Amy laughed softly and shook her head. "Girl, that is one fucked up relationship."

"Maybe," I nodded, "but is it as bad as your relationship with 'you know who?'"

"You mean the 'bitch who shall not be named'?" Amy shook her head, "That psycho-bitch was nearly the death of me. Made me give up on relationships, at least for now. But speaking of lies, you cannot keep playing this game with Andrew and think you could really have any relationship."

"I can't tell him everything, certainly not about hacking his computer. That is one secret I think I can hide forever, and I fully intend to do so. As for me knowing Andy is him. I think he wants me to know, but doesn't want me to admit I know."

Amy had carefully read all the comments between Andrew and I on the page and slowly nodded her head, "I can see that. But if you don't want that, go tell him."

"But that might ruin the mystery for him, and he is my biggest subscriber. I need every penny I can get."

Amy looked at me annoyed and grabbed me by the shoulder. She shook me hard enough to almost hurt and stared me down.. "So do you want to whore for him or have a relationship with him? And do not even try to tell me you can do both."

"Whore?!?! Really Amy?"

Amy put her hands up in disbelief, "So sorry. What euphemism do you want me to use?"

"Fuck off Amy."

"Forget the damn word then. You are selling sex for cash, and selling it to someone for whom you have some kind of mixed up confused feelings. You damn well better be comfortable with this and know exactly what you are doing."

I shoved her back and got up angry, but I couldn't find words. She stood also, a good six inches taller, and looked down on me. "What, the great Val Mitrov left speechless? Are you going to slam out of here in a fit of Russian rage, or are you going to think through what you really are doing and what you want to do.

I opened my mouth ready to scream in her face, but I knew she was right. I collapsed back on the bed, laying across it with my feet on the floor staring at the ceiling. "I barely even know him. Any love I feel for him is really just for his apologies, his help and his amazing body. I have no idea if we even share any hobbies or even his friends. Maybe Andrew is smarter than I realized. He knows what we have is fantasy, and we bring it into reality it all falls apart."

Amy sat down and put a hand on my knee. "Wise words, Ms. Mitrov, wise words. But don't forget you said the word "maybe." We don't know what Andrew is thinking. So then, what next?"

"Figure out how to keep the fantasy going and keep accepting his money, or maybe try to figure out what he is thinking. But, yeah, I am a prostitute or something close to it, but I kind of like it, and it is an honest job."

Amy nodded and let her brown eyes, now soft and compassionate, meet mine. "If you are fine with that, so am I. At least I guess I am. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing."

"Amy, thank you so much. These last two months have been a whirlwind. I am barely keeping up in school, I am constantly doing things outside of my comfort zone and getting buried in details. It feels so good to finally unload and I am so sorry I lied to you. You said "we" before. I was not so sure there was going to be a "we" after this conversation with you. But I had to fess up."

"Well this was perhaps the most bizarre conversation of my life. Well, except maybe when the 'bitch who shall not be named' broke up with me and accused me of gaslighting her and being an agent of pure evil." We both smiled ruefully and shook our heads thinking back to Amy's break up. Amy thought for awhile, and then shook my knee, "Val, you need a manager you can trust. Someone who can help you with internet security, patrol your site and be up to speed so when you need to talk, they can listen and give meaningful advice. Let me help you."

"You would do that? You want to help me with this?"

"Well, not for free, but I would do it. And, no, I don't think this is a great idea. You don't see me running over to my computer to start up my own page. Yet, Val, if you are going to do this, and you clearly are, then I want to make sure someone will have your back, and who better than me?"

I gave her a little hug. "That would be awesome." I did some quick research on my computer. "Would ten percent work? That is low for a manager, to be honest, but I don't have a lot to spare, and I think it will be pretty easy at first."

"Okay, I'll do it, but, for the record, I like your parents and I won't like lying to them."

We squeezed my bags somewhere onto the floor and listened to a programming podcast until we drifted off.

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I woke up, still fully dressed, in the arms of my best friend. I was nestled up against her chest, with her hands cradling my head protectively. The gentle rise and fall of her chest felt safe and like home. Part of me knew that Amy would jump at the chance of a serious romantic relationship with me. As I lay there I thought about it. I thought of caressing her breasts and feeling her get turned on. I thought of her between my legs and me between hers, feeling her thighs tremble with excitement. There was a bit of a response in my body and the chance to make Amy feel that happy would almost be worth it even if I hated everything else. Then I thought of what I did with Andrew (or was it to Andrew), and the excitement soon had my loins afire. No, any romantic relationship with Amy would be a lie. I simply was not attracted to her like that.

I sighed and got out of bed; it was a little after nine and I was hungry. Checking the fridge seemed fruitless, unless I wanted beer or energy drinks. Amy is many things, but her fridge and pantry consist mainly of a pile of take out menus and junk food. I thought of putting coffee on, but I knew it would wake her. Amy's 9 AM is about my 4 AM. Instead I sent her a thank you and goodbye text, gathered my bags and slipped quietly out.

I headed home, stopping at the self-storage to dump most of my gear. After getting my computer setup, I decided to start looking into hiding my finances. For that I would need Andrew. A chance to see him face-to-face would also be a good chance to try to figure out where he was at in all of this. I thought about how I felt in control, but did he? I opened up my spyware for Andrew's computer. It was on; I first perused the folder where he keeps my files, and there it was. He had recorded it. It did not bother me that he had. He surely paid enough. However I had not thought of recording the live cam last night, so I made a copy of the file for myself. Then I poked around his finances a bit. Yeah, kind of wrong, but I needed to know if I was bankrupting him. He has spent a lot of money on me lately. He was giving me $2000 a month as a stipend for the fake scholarship and then he had spent almost $10K on my page. It took a little effort, but not much. He was damn comfortable, worth a few million at least, although all of that real estate was hard to value. In any case, $10K was not a big lift for him.