Chapter 2

I headed straight to my room, shut the door, and fired up my laptop. My fingers shook a bit as I typed in the info Juliette had given me. The site loaded, and there was her live video, timestamp in the corner.

I took a deep breath before hitting play.

The screen lit up, and the first thing I saw was my sister. Juliette was lounging on our living room couch in a tank top and black panties. Her smile was teasing, eyes sparkling with that wild energy only she had.

“Hey, loves… you ready for today?”

The back of my neck prickled.

My mind was a mess. Seeing my sister like this, putting on a show for strangers, was weird. Super weird. But at the same time, I couldn’t look away—it was strangely thrilling.

There’s something about me I gotta explain. I’m not saying I get turned on by my sister—that’d be crazy. But I like watching my own body, it gets me hot, and the fact that Juliette looks exactly like me fucks with my head big time. It’s this confusion I’ve never been able to sort out, a mental tug-of-war that hits whenever I see her naked. And no, I don’t like girls. Not even a little.

But there in the video, Juliette knew exactly what she was doing. The way she toyed with her hair, bit her lip, stared into the camera… it was like she was seducing someone right in person. Comments flew up fast, full of praise, requests, raw desires.

“Damn, so many people hyping her up… I’d never have the guts for that,” I said out loud to myself.

I skipped ahead a bit and paused when she pulled up her top and flashed her tits. I felt something weird stir. My morals weren’t the only thing slipping in that moment.

Our boobs were identical. Hers maybe a tad smaller, but nothing that changed the bra size—we shared clothes all the time, which was a fight when she’d borrow my intimates. Bras were okay, but panties? That shit pissed me off.

That’s when the question hit me like a jolt:

“Why am I picturing myself doing this, and why does the idea turn me on?”

It wasn’t my sister up there… it was like me. And more than that, I was hooked on how those guys craved her. Craved me, without even knowing.

I liked the attention.

Juliette and I were hot, but we had shit luck with boyfriends. We were picky, and most guys were assholes anyway. But still… seeing those men want that body—which, by some twist, was mine too—made me feel something I’d never felt before.

I was still glued to the screen when the doorbell rang. The sound snapped me back, and I paused the video quick, my heart pounding.

I got up and cracked the bedroom door, peeking out.

“Who is it, Jules?”

Juliette called from the couch, eyes on her phone.

“It’s the camgirl!”

My face twisted in surprise.

“The camgirl?!”

She laughed.

“Yeah, Patricia. Don’t be mean to her, okay?”

“Of course not…” I muttered, still trying to wrap my head around it. “But what the hell is she doing here?”

Juliette rolled her eyes, all impatient.

“Can I get the door? She’s here to talk camera stuff with me.”

I crossed my arms, unsure.

“Camera stuff… Jules, can I listen?”

She huffed.

“Oh, Justy, chill. If you wanna come, fine, just don’t be you!”

Juliette dashed to the door while I stayed put, arms crossed, just watching.

The girl who walked in was gorgeous. Smoking hot. Pale skin, black hair, covered in arm tattoos—the kind that turns heads everywhere. She burst in talking loud, full of energy, already praising my sister for the quick cash she’d made.

The talk flowed easy. Patricia was bold, totally at ease with her gig. She started breaking it down like a pro consultant.

According to her, cams weren’t where the big bucks were, but it paid right away. OnlyFans, done right—especially in English—that’s where the real money rolled in. Charging in dollars made all the difference.

“The deal is, list what you’re down for and price it out,” she explained, plopping comfy on the couch.

“Like what?” I asked, knowing I’d regret it.

“Basically, the low end is for a solid solo session with a vibrator and all, private shows. Or just chatting. Some dudes pay just to spill their life story, believe it or not?”

Before I could think, the words slipped out:

“I’d do that.”

A quick silence. Then laughs.

“For that cash, you’d make more than a therapist without the degree.”

The laughs got louder. Patricia shook her head, amused.

“But look, you two could take turns or do it together. Turns double the money. Together? You’re loaded.”

My throat went dry.

“Together how?”

My heart raced, and I kept up the freakout.

“You guys are nuts! I’d never do that.”

Juliette laughed, shaking her head like she knew I’d flip. But Patricia just crossed her legs and flashed a sly smile, like she was about to drop the real bomb.

“How loaded, Patricia?” Juliette asked, eyes lit with curiosity.

Patricia shrugged, tossing her hair back.

“I dunno… fifty to a hundred grand, depending. Could be more…”

My sister’s eyes went wide.

“A hundred grand a month?”

Patricia cracked up and shook her head.

“Dollars.”

The room went dead quiet. A shiver ran down my spine as I tried to process that insane number.

“A hundred thousand dollars a month?” I blurted, almost without thinking. “I’d rim your ass, Juliette.”

Jules burst out laughing.

“Right?”

Patricia laughed too, but raised a hand like a warning.

“But hold up, it’s not that easy to get there. Not overnight, don’t kid yourselves. Takes work, building an audience, keeping fans hooked.”

She grabbed her bag and unzipped it, pulling out a bunch of stuff that left me speechless.

Sex shop gear.

All kinds of toys, some pretty wild. A tentacle-shaped vibrator, one remote-controlled for every tip, even lube.

My eyes locked on that last one.

“Lube?” I asked, eyebrow up.

Patricia grinned, like she saw it coming.

“Sweetie, rubbing one out for four hours a day? No pussy can take that dry.”

Juliette snatched a toy and twirled it in her fingers, checking it out with interest.

Me? I felt like my head was gonna explode. There I was, hearing all this, and somehow, part of me was curious. Real curious.