Updated: Apr 25
Claire sipped on her beer as Brain booted up the computer. There was something hot about watching him work. She enjoyed being the star, and she was definitely the fucking star, but every queen needed a right-hand man.
As the dual screens hummed to life, Brian swiveled his chair to look at her on the futon. “Five bucks says the first request is a graduation video.”
“Great prediction,” Claire said, the beer sloshing as she clapped her hands. “It’s the end of May, grad porn is in full swing? Why don’t we bet on what they want the graduate to do?”
“Hmmm.” Brian grabbed his beer off the counter and took a swig. “A fake Valedictorian speech and then shitting on a diploma.”
“How high are you?”
Brian shrugged and turned back to the screen, typing fast.
“I am not taking a dump on camera. We already discussed this.”
“I know, but I still think someone’s gonna request it.” He looked over his shoulder. “What do you think they’re gonna request.”
Claire downed more beer, trying to remember all the crazy shit they’d been paid to film over the last year. “I really don’t know. I just hope it’s a big payday because—” Claire tapped her wrist even though she wasn’t wearing a watch. “Times ticking. I’m out of the trailer come June 6th. I refuse to spend a single day longer with that man. He’s—”
“Don't worry. We’ll have enough money after this one to leave. I just don't know what we’re gonna do for cash once we get to Phoenix.” Brian brought up the Burners forum and the secure message board for their profile—PornPanda666
“We can always go more extreme… If you’re up to it.” Claire flashed her eyes and downed the rest of her beer.
“You been talking to Rabbithole69 again?” He smiled and went back to the screen.
“I’m pretty sure you don’t want to cum on Ken dolls anymore.” She grinned. “You also didn’t seem to like the puppy-play video, even though we made six hundred dollars dragging you around on a leash and—”
“I said not to bring Ken or that puppy shit up anymore.”
Claire chuckled and grabbed another beer from the mini fridge next to the futon.
“My point is, if we want to make the big money, we go hardcore.”
“Do you remember the shit she’s suggested?”
“I thought we were burners?”
Brian stopped typing and looked back, annoyance on his face.
“Think about it, is all I'm saying. One hardcore video, and we can invest the money and do something else.”
“I'll consider it. Now…” He skimmed the messages. “Graduation request...check. And…”
“Ha. A fucking looner!”
“Balloon fetish. This one wants you masturbating but with balloons. He’s only offering one hundred.”
“For a hundred bucks, I got no problem rubbing a balloon all over my pussy."
Brian looked back. “It’s not like that. This guy wants a whole graduation scene with tons of balloons. Like fifty. I don't want to blow up all those balloons."
"And don't want to rub a balloon all over m pussy. think of the static charge. But I will for the money."
“Fine. Let me just see what other requests we got.” Brain began skimming again. “Water sports." he read on. "Hi-yo!”
“I’m not a squirter. Next.”
“First of all, I downloaded that tutorial. Says you can make anyone squirt with the right grip technique. Second, that’s not what I meant when I said water sports.” A sickening grin spread across Brian's face.”
“I’m not pissing on camera. Next.”
“Really? That’s where you draw the line? You could—”
“Ken dolls. Leash. I bet LordPetBoner would love a video of you against a fire hydrant—”
“Okay. Point made. Balloons it is.” Brian chewed his bottom lip. “Let’s see if we can’t offer him a way to personalize it for some extra cash. I’ll find a way to make it work.”
Claire looked at her watch. “We got thirty minutes, then you need to get me home.” The realization of how fast time flew by killed her buzz. She hated having to go back there every night.
“One more week, baby.”
“I hope you’re right. Milk what you can out of this balloon freak. But no bathroom porn.” Claire held up her pointer finger.
“You’re late,” Granddad said over the blaring TV.
Her mouth opened, but Claire caught herself. Despite the beer and joint they’d split before she left, she was able to hold her tongue. It wasn’t worth a fight. Not when she’d be gone in less than a week.
“I expect dinner by five-thirty on week days.”
“I’ll have it ready on time,” she said, unsure if she was successful in keeping the venom from her tone. She headed straight to the trailer’s tiny kitchen, hoping the buzz would ease the anger once she started cooking.
Sure enough, it was only five-twenty five when dinner was on the table and he shuffled his old as into the pea-green chairs he’d had since Claire was in middle school.
“You having any?” the old man said between slurps of chili.
Claire leaned against the cabinets and sipped from a water glass. “Not hungry.”
Granddad grumbled and shoveled in two more bites while she watched a few feet away. As repulsive as he was, she couldn’t quite turn away. Each drop of chili that fell from his wrinkled lips further cemented the hate she had for him. That’s way she couldn’t walk away. The hate felt too good.
“It’s almost the first,” he said. “You find a job?”
“I have a job. And I’ll have the money. I always do.”
“You working this job tomorrow? Or you seeing that loser again.”
Claire's teeth felt like they might crack under the pressure of her tightened her jaw. She allowed her grin to stretch wider, refusing to give him the satisfaction of her frustration. “I’ll be working my job tomorrow, Ganddad,” she said in a faux chipper voice.
“Mm-hm.” He finished off the last of the chili. “Well, just be quiet when you get off and come home. I’m in bed at nine.”
I won’t be keeping quiet when I get off, Claire laughed inside. “I always am,” she said, pushing off the cabinet. Goodnight, Granddad. I’m heading to my room.”