As I stand, my shirt rides down slightly. Just a little. Enough to show a flash of my pink bra before I ‘realize’ what’s happening and adjust it.Adjusting itinvolves a lot of extra movement, shifting up and down.
The chat lights up. Ogling eyes. A few people commenting that I’m doing it on purpose. Lots of hearts and sweating emojis.
I leave, use the bathroom, then act all innocent when I return.
“Okay, what have I missed?” I ask.
IronCrusher777: You know what you did!
I beam at the camera, looking at the woman in the top right of the screen. Me, but a different version of how I feel offline. My hair, a dark mass of wild curls, framing a face beaming with confidence. Big eyes and a big, loud, not-scared-to-speak-her-mind mouth.
My top is lacy, my cleavage suggestive without being overly in your face.
Mara writes to me privately.
Mara_bells: That was a hook, line, and sinker move. Good job.
I grin, then go back to playing innocent.
“People, please, stop asking about Emerald Cove,” I say as I take my avatar to the bank and store my materials from my run in the wintry tundra-filled wasteland.
NightBolt: IF YOU DON’T DO THE COVE, YOU CAN’T RAID MAGLUSORTH!
I chuckle as the message comes through. “Thanks for the twenty dollars, Sumo Sam. And yeah, you’re right. But the thing is, a lot of us play this game for the sandbox aspect. For thefreedomaspect, really.”
The chat:
Cherrymist: Auntie is getting philosophical again…
DarkFurry: She’s so hot when she talks like this.
Foxxy_Foe: Don’t simp, bro.
I like when my regular subscribers call meauntie. It’s like they’re distancing me from any of the online games. The low-cut shirts. The viral moments.
“The Cove is the opposite of freedom. So, until Jackson Cross fixes his game, I’ll be sticking to old content. Even if it means I progress slower and…some of you, sniffle sniffle, abandon me.”
I pout at the screen with an overly sad face. It’s a little mean, this character I do, especially when I go cross-eyed on purpose. It’s a parody of a certain kind of streamer, one who relies solely on gooners, on simps, on incels, whatever word one uses. I flirt with that side of things, use it occasionally to my advantage, but I’m terrified of making it my whole brand.
My personality has to shine too. Or I might as well just do OnlyFans. Not that I’d ever judge anyone for that. It’s just not my thing.
AbyssBliss: Maybe you need a private meeting with Halcyon!
As I absentmindedly guide my flying mount through the skies of the city’s residential district, I chuckle. “I don’t think the big shots at Halcyon would like what I have to say about this latest expansion. Don’t get me wrong, folks. I love this game. I’m attached to this game. For life. But they messed up. Bad.”
One of my longtime subscribers pops in.
HAVOCnight: You’re big enough to get a meeting, Dakky.
Others agree.
SavageQueen99: You could do it.
BowieB: Put them in their places.
SkyBite: They need gamers, not businessmen!
I smile, enjoying their encouragement, until a private moderator message flashes up on the screen. A moderator is someone who monitors my chat and makes sure no one does anything hateful, gross, or otherwise against community standards.
