The Lux Files: DiqMan69

The doorbell rang through the laptop speakers. Private chat.

“Get naked” popped up in the window. His screenname: DiqMan69. How original.

Fuck, I thought. This is gonna be over quick.

“Hi there,” I said. “I’m Lux.”
And like a true gentleman, he replied, “Naked. Now.”

I smiled and unhooked my bra for the fifteenth time in an hour. I laid back on the bed and spread my legs toward the camera.

“Want 2 see me?” he typed.
“Yeah I do, baby.”

Please let him be semi-normal and not a mutant and not disgusting.

A second video stream opened. Naked and fat, he sat in a computer chair that had seen better days. I wondered how many hours a day he sat in that chair commanding cam girls to take their clothes off. I knew he was no amateur by the strategic camera positioning skills: the perfect neck-to-dick view. Although I wouldn’t say I had much of a view. His belly hung so low that I couldn’t actually see his dick, but I knew it had to be there, as he was already fumbling around trying to get it hard.

The timer ticked in the corner of the screen.


For every minute I could keep this guy in the private chat, I earned one dollar, which may sound like a lot—and on the days when I was making $60+/hour, it was a lot—but it was only a bullshit 20% of how much he was paying to watch me hump a pillow. Some time later I would try to cheat the system and give private shows outside of the website. Word of advice: do not try this. I was banned from using PayPal for like four years and it was a real bitch. True story.

His camera was on but the mic was off. That was one of my rules, I never allowed the other person to turn on their microphone, for two reasons: 1) It seemed too personal, and 2) There was always a horrible delay if both mics and cameras were on. It was awkward enough without the added pressure of lagging audio and video and reminded me a little too much of being 13 and trying to watch Pay-Per-View porn late at night for free on a channel that was mostly static, but sometimes you’d catch a tit. Plus, more often than not, there wasn’t much talking on their end anyway. My mic was usually on with music in the background; a playlist for cam nights titled “Delicious”.

This went on for about 10 minutes and then he asked if I wanted to see his toys. I was immediately nervous, but I obliged because, well, there we were at 12 minutes and if it was sitting in a free chat room with the trolls who demanded “show ass bb” “hand bra bb” “why so much clothes bb?” “u me pvt for 1 hr if u show nips 5 secs bb” versus getting paid a dollar a minute to watch this guy use a fleshlight…fleshlight is the obvious choice.

He walked away and the sight of his wide-flat ass was nauseating. I was looking into a bedroom. It was dark except for the glowing light from his desktop computer screen. I have to say that one of the weirdest parts about seeing a stranger’s camera (and there were a lot of weird parts) is seeing into their homes, into their lives. Sometimes there were dirty dishes in the sink or a cat on the couch or a TV playing Fox News (lololol). On the other side, my “workspace” was intentionally designed to have no distinctive attributes; a bed, a pillow or two, and a girl, all staged to look like any other plain old room with a twin bed and a laptop and a webcam and a girl faking sex in an office suite in a seemingly quiet neighborhood near the airport. Or a vacant home owned by the cams studio manager, filled with cheap Ikea furniture and naked girls.

He returned with a fringe whip and something I couldn’t yet identify—the lighting sucked, which was okay with me. He stood in front of the camera and commanded me to get naked again. This time I had an up close and personal look at his whole package and it was not pretty. His dick peeked out from under the FUPA as he dragged the whip across his torso.

“Like?” he asked.

“That looks fun.” I replied. My roommate at the time—literal roommate, as we shared a bedroom separated by a sheet that hung between our beds/workspaces—was not in a private chat at that moment, so I inconspicuously waved her over to see this weirdo. She stayed out of camera view and laughed when she saw the freak fest on my screen.

“Have fun,” she mouthed. I looked back at the timer.


“I have something else,” he said.
“Let’s see it.”

He picked up the second toy and even in his low quality video stream could see it was a butt plug of sorts. A long, skinny butt plug with curved handles. Handles. For two-handed plugging control.

Oh please no. Please please no.

“What’s that?”
“My toy. Like it?”

Did I like it? I wanted to say no. I wanted to say please don’t do what you’re about to do and please don’t make me witness it. To be fair, he wasn’t making me do anything. He was paying for my time and I could choose to leave the private chat whenever I wanted, but if you’re not in private chat, you’re not getting paid and, as I said before, private chat was better than being verbally molested in a free chat room.

All I could muster was, “I don’t know if I like it.” I knew I wasn’t playing the part very well from the expression on my face that mirrored back from the webcam stream. He held up the plug to give me a better look.

Not exactly like this but kind of. It took a lot of interesting google searches to find this close-enough comparison.


I raised my eyebrows. This had never happened before and I didn’t know what to do. Seeing a fat man jerk off is one thing, but this was a whole new level of freak.

He turned around, bent over, and reached back with the toy.

“No. I don’t like that.” No, DiqMan69, I do not like it.

And into the ass it went. Judging by his lack of care in the insertion, it was clear he’d done this before.

“OK that’s enough, I don’t like it.” I looked away and waved over my roommate again, not realizing she was in a private chat.

He ignored me and continued to semi-violently ream himself.

“STOP I DON’T WANT TO SEE THAT OR I’M GOING TO LEAVE.” I yelled, horrified at what was happening and horrified at myself for not having already left the chat.


He turned back toward me with the plug and sat down, adjusting the camera so I could see his mouth this time.

“Tell me u like it,” he typed. He was smiling.
“No I don’t like it.”

He reached for the plug and somehow I knew what was going to happen next.

Into his mouth it went. And not a little bit; he was furiously sucking the handlebar plug that had been in his b-hole—where there’s poop—not even 10 seconds prior. Didn’t wash it, didn’t even wipe it off. This was a full-on, ass-to-mouth situation. Well, more of an up-the-ass-then-to-mouth situation.

My roommate jumped off her bed mid-private chat and ran over to see what I was screaming about.

“Was that in his ass?! Oh that’s fucked up.”


Our bedroom door flew open and one of the studio managers stood in the doorway, having run upstairs to see who was screaming and why.


Manager laughed, then rolled his eyes and said “Oh my god, stop fucking screaming and leave the chat, other girls are working.” He left. But we couldn’t stop watching in horror. It was like a car accident.

Just then, during a close-up shot of DiqMan69’s mouth on the plug, the stream froze. And the timer ticked on. This was something that happened periodically, some kind of glitch in the system; his computer froze, but he was still paying for my time in this chat until he restarted the computer and logged back in. Basically the best case scenario, as I was now getting paid without having to fake sex or watch a dude enjoy the taste of his own colon.

I was still yelling.

“I have never seen that, have you? People are fucking gross…that’s your own ass in your mouth…what the fuck.” Roommate had returned to her chat, so I was mostly talking to myself, but she had her mic turned off, so if she positioned just right, the viewer wouldn’t be able to tell she was having a conversation.

“No I’ve never seen that. Fucked up,” she said.

The timer continued.


I got dressed and laid down on the bed, unsure of what to do with myself. I could have ended the chat then, but didn’t want to give up the free money and I wasn’t allowed to go off camera for more than a few seconds during private chat.

I felt gross and figured this would be the perfect time to reflect on my life choices like I’d been meaning to for some time. Instead, I fell asleep. Story of my life right there.

The loud beep to signal the end of a private chat jolted me awake. I sat up and glanced at the timer: 58:32. Not bad.

I took a deep breath, thankful I only had another hour until my “shift” was over. I sat up, adjusted my bra, and clicked back into the free chat room, once again flashing a fake smile. “Hi, I’m Lux,” I typed. And I hate all of you.