Brianna does Webcam and ponders Blockchain

Brianna was doing a private webcam show for a rich British dude. He owned a couple of dead tree press newspaper titles of the tabloid variety and a soft porn cable channel. The guy had made his money in hardcore early on in his career and then went respectable. Being a millionaire instantly granted a certain gravitas he had told her. Big fan of her work he slavered via Skype.  And here she was, in the luxury hotel suite he had booked for her for, one night only, sipping chilled Grey Goose vodka from a champagne flute, getting ready for the performance. He wanted her totally naked and to stick an assortment of sex toys in her mouth, pussy and ass.  Brianna is in the bathroom, applying lipstick and pouting at her reflection. She looks awesome, just short of six feet of porn dynamite, the perfect sex replicant. Endless lean and toned legs, long blonde hair combed over her shoulders,  small cute natural tits (a rarity in the industry and her selling point)  pretty hands and feet with matching pink nails (the buyer’s insistence) and every inch of her body golden tanned.  She slips on clear stripper heels and lights a joint. Showtime in ten minutes. The asshole is in New York on business so there’s no time lag. He’d paid up front in Bitcoin commensurate to the value of ten thousand dollars; he insisted on the method of payment it was cleaner and easier for him this way.  There was a cute young Asian guy who was runner on a couple of her more up budget skin flicks for Vivid who helped her to set up a crypto currency wallet. He told her to sit on the coin but she wanted it transferred into green, which he did for a five percent cut. All done and dusted, she took a hit on the conversion but the thought of virtual money was just so like wow to her. Fuck it anyway; she needed cold hard cash to fund her forthcoming kill spree which would hopefully have a cosmic payoff.  Brianna lights a cigarette and washes down a couple of OxyContin with vodka to make this shit bearable.  Showtime. It’s almost midnight.

Brianna is on the king-size bed writhing naked in the gorgeous satin sheets working a large pink dildo in and out of her pussy.

“Keep looking at me you sexy cunt, keep the eye contact.”

The alcohol and codeine has worked its magic, she feels sleepy and giggly and can do this degrading shit on autopilot. On it goes the pouting, the fingering, tits pushed together, and tits pulled apart, his red fucking face wheezing in a little box in the top corner of the monitor.

“Will you fuck me when I’m in LA?” dribbles the guy.

“Sure honey, I’ll suck you dry,” says Brianna breathily, knowing she’ll be long gone soon, out this shitty meatspace.

“Stick it up your slutch hole.”

Brianna lubes up her asshole and slides the dildo up fake balls deep. She’s had two big dicks at a time up her ass dozens of times  so she accommodates it easily.

“Lick your shit off it cunt.”

There’s just lube and a little mucus discharge from digging too deep. Brianna licks the dildo like a popsicle and then deep throats it as huskily commanded. She wants to take her Glock and blow this mother fucker’s head off.  The edge play with the stunt cock helps bring him off and with a curt thank you he’s gone. He’ll be in touch when he’s in town next week. Brianna makes a mental note to incinerate him if she goes cosmic.

Brianna turns on the huge TV and flicks through the news channels. She is smoking super strength weed, the shit they give to cancer patients, lying on the bed in a white fluffy robe provided by the hotel, which she intends to take with her. Nothing engages her until she comes across a documentary about hackers on the Discovery channel.  Feeling comfortably numb she falls into reverie thinking about how blockchain worked. Brianna was like everyone else on the outside peering in, wishing she was a proficient hacker, that mythical and romantic figure inhabiting a beautifully abstract and hypnotically monotonous world, all coding, bugs and exploits. That’s where the real power lay, not being a dumb skank like herself sucking dicks and flicking her bean in the meatspace.  The weed was a bad idea; she’s ended up in a bad place so she has more vodka and codeine and finally falls asleep in a mildly euphoric state contemplating her escape from the flesh. Brianna dreams deeply. She is walking down a street shrouded in a thick mist that obscures the surrounding buildings.  Jeanna appears from nowhere, naked and shivering, pointing an accusatory finger at Brianna. She recoils at Brianna’s touch and stands there staring. The flesh starts to dissolve from her bones, quickly liquefying; she becomes skeletonised, a thick shocking pink gloop dripping down into the gutter. Brianna wakes up screaming up knowing Jeanna will not make it through the gate in time. Chrystal, her sister, knows. Four into two doesn’t go.  Brianna smokes and finishes off the Grey Goose, horror and virtual currency on her mind. Playing with her Glock soothes her. Heads will fucking roll, she thinks, and this suddenly this is the funniest thing in the world and she’s rolling on the floor convulsed with laughter. Off off with their heads, dance till you die. Brianna will cut all their fucking balls off. Exterminate the brutes and enjoy the cosmic fruit. She pisses her panties and feels transcendent.