” he said, echoing erroneous anti-vice rhetoric of my childhood.
Much like cannabis use supposedly opens doors to heroin and coke, it was only a matter of time before I’d be turning tricks on the Bowery for some drugged-out pimp, who might as well be wearing a purple suit with leopard-skin lapels.
“I came for the tits, but stayed for the intellectual banter,” remarked one visitor.
In addition to more classic webcam performances – wet T-shirts, oil slathering or run-of-the-mill masturbation – some of my most popular performances entail me reading erotica, perhaps Anais Nin or the Marquis de Sade, in the buff.
The first time that I logged on as “Marina,” I wore a tight black tank top and a comfortable pair of shorts, figuring that if the camming thing didn’t work out, I would at least be dressed for consolation pastries afterward. “Well, I came here because I hate my real job and wanted to see if this could be a viable financial alternative,” I said, tweaking my nipples a bit in hopes of resuscitating some of the erections I undoubtedly just lost.
But before I could even finish doubting myself, a swarm of users flooded my chat room, tipping liberally with “tokens,” the website’s local currency, and barraging me with questions. “How does it feel getting naked in front of hundreds of guys?
I began leaving the office sharply at 5 p.m., applying my makeup on the subway ride home and often skipping dinner in order to log online faster.
I broadcast my webcam show until 10 or 11 p.m., then rolled into bed exhausted, exhilarated and up to 0 richer.The men I meet online rarely fall into the category of “anonymous assholes who have abandoned all social etiquette,” nor do they resemble the pasty, calculator-wristwatch-wearing forebears of chat rooms past.Many, in fact, are successful professionals in their field – whether it be law, the arts or academia.“I’m going to take the certification exam for Russian-to-English translation.” While not entirely ludicrous – I am fluent in Russian – I saw no hurry to pursue this option so long as I was still certified to flash my boobs over the Internet. If you’re not familiar with it, that means I take off my clothes for random people on the Internet.For weeks, I fielded calls from anxious relatives, inventing excuse after excuse as to why I had still not produced a groundbreaking retranslation of “War and Peace.” “So, you’re just … ” my father finally asked, his voice leaden and despondent, as though his Rottweiler had just died. If there was going to be a funeral, I thought, doing something. Don’t worry, the pay is great.” For some reason, I actually thought this news would cheer up my father.“Camming is the gateway!And while most camgirls are veritable social butterflies, fluttering from one flirtatious conversation to the next, I am more like a moth, perched in the shadows for fear of crashing and burning into a floor lamp. Deep down, I also felt that I was “above” sex work.