The Camgirl Diaries

Women are the ones who should be making money off of camming. I’m sorry not sorry; if I have to wiggle around for hours half naked I deserve the money. Not you [male consumers]. I have a deep vendetta against men who make money off women who cam; both for personal and basic ethical reasons.

The basic ethics are obvious. I stated them above, in essence. We are working our literal asses off; we are baring our souls and bodies to the world; we are the ones who deserve control. If you thought I was a pushover to the patriarchy just because I make money off my body – you were wrong.

Camming in general should be a women-driven industry; we know what we need, okay? However, some months ago it came to my attention that it simply isn’t that way. Men are behind curtains like the Wizard of Oz, pulling strings like we are puppets. Men who let you stream in large promo groups but keep a cut of it. Pimps, not peers.

This is where it gets personal. I streamed in one of these large groups. Two others wouldn’t let me stream or didn’t respond to me; again, I swear I’m cute, my stream is just known for being a bit.. dare I say “innocent”? Anyway; these large groups were all run by men, and for some godforsaken reason I was hellbent on impressing them. I streamed for a group well known for its promo (i.e. its ability to sell many followers to other groups). I did it because one of my sugar daddies was an administrator for said group.

The night I streamed for them I was thrilled. I made more money than possibly any other night on the app. Excited for another opportunity to have full access to my sugar daddy and the group with large numbers, I instantly messaged the group owner asking to perform again. He said he’d get back to me.

He didn’t.

A week or so later I followed up. He denied knowing I even wanted to perform, which is odd because most people on the app I use are crawling to get their hands on performers. Again, I asked to perform. He said he’d check availability. Noticing a pattern here?

Long story short, the male internet pimp rejected me. I felt awful about it. As I’ve said before, because you are selling your literal self the work feels incredibly personal. My (now past) sugar daddy even supposedly inquired on my behalf, but who can say which of these men tell the truth. I found out via all these interactions that there is a secret gentlemen’s club wherein high rollers, per se, trade names of girls, information on girls, the souls of girls. 

That rejection hit me hard, man. I cried into the mirror looking like a fucking raccoon, doing those weird dry sobs while tears stream, but feel oddly unrelated to your body, leaving the sobs heaving and somehow dry. The least satisfying type of cry. It was like something out of Girl Interrupted, shit. Finally I had to stop crying, stop waiting for an answer, move on. 

I am excellent at forgiving, but not forgetting. In this case I did not attempt either. Instead I went for the jugular. 

I began streaming for other smaller male run groups close to the original groups, asking my followers to tip heavy then. Make them regret they’d rejected me. After seeming trustworthy of making them money – infiltrate fully. I used phrases such as, “I’m here to benefit you” about their groups, found out about their secret clubs, charmed their lies away with my tits. Information came pouring out about who pays who, why they do, and a bunch of fucking bullshit wherein the women never win.

Did I dismantle the patriarchy? Burn those bitches as the stake? I’d like to think I did. My past sugar daddy “broke up” with his friends and left the app, no longer funding their streams or promo. I lost a major source of income but so did they – worth it. Tonight I had a semi successful stream, at least with large numbers. When I peaked in the main room chat I saw all the new followers rolling in were from a very familiar name. The rejectee himself selling followers. And many of them, who came straight from him, entered my room and tipped me. 

Victory is sweet tonight. Some things feel more satisfactory than money.