Finding job as a findom after being banned from camming

It was not part of my plan to ban myself from being a camgirl.

After just one session, all my viewers reported me as violating site ethics.


Now, I'm a banned camgirl. I don't have any other skills besides my sex work.


I tried to create an account on Instagram, but my account was deleted within days.


Here I am in the backroom at a club on 5th Street, where men with missing teeth can suck on me for 15 dollars.


It's not a terrible situation. I actually enjoy the attention that I get.


The club's other escorts are either older or too addicted to meth to know anything about camping.


I have an advantage and great tits to leverage.


Banned from backroom

The back room is not to be used for anything below the belt.


All bodily fluid exchanges must take place at the client's home, in their car or back alley. For a while, I have been sneaking it past their eyes.


I smile, thinking of how clever I am, hiding in corners that cameras can't see, and sucking at john's cocks to get a good payoff.


I stare into the eyes of this older gentleman. He is so happy to have someone as loud as me pay attention.


Just a few seconds earlier, we had agreed on a price to have him suck on my cock. But I know that if I stop in mid-sentence, I can get him another hundred to fuck for me for five minutes.


I take off his belt and fall to my knees.


His small and pathetically tiny cock pops up, bright pink and fully-hard.


"Dude! Where are your drawers?" I ask, disillusioned.


He smiles and shrugs, suggesting he doesn’t know.


Getting started

I breathe deeply and wrap my hands around his cock. He sighs and leans against the wall.


I reach for his head, and he smacks it away.


"Another hundred, if you want your disgusting crotch to me at your own pace," I grunt.


He raises his hands and then folds them behind him.


I start jacking him and then put my mouth around the erection.


All I can smell is salt and stale piss. He probably hasn’t washed his junk for days.


I quickly ran my tongue along the shaft of his cock, pulling hard with my mouth to make him cumber faster.


An angry male voice says, "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCCK?"


I quickly stand up and glance over.


My manager is pissed that I broke the one rule in the back room.


He cuts me off when I try to explain.


"You're banned from the backroom, bitch. "Get your sex back on the ground and figure it out!" he yells.


A banged slut finds her way

I hurry out of the backroom. The man I was sucking off is arguing with my manager about payment. I then tuck the money that he gave me earlier into my bra.


Before I go to the bar, I check my tits.


It was a small area, so I went to see some buff men who were grabbing their cocks and watching the women perform on stage. A few older men are wearing sunglasses and holding onto their beers like it's a lifeline.


Then, I see him.


The skinny and shy looking man is wearing a polo shirt with khakis.


He does not belong here.


The bullshit town of America is not the right place for him to be attracted by this shitclub.


He seems corporate, almost like he has money. I walk over to him and offer a glass of water. I feel happy that I was expelled from the backroom.


"Hey cowboy, buy me a drink?" I slither.


He stares at me with nervousness and adjusts his posture uncomfortably.


"Uh...yes... I would... ehem...Yes." He sputters out, "What do you...you like?"


"Vodka tonic no ice," I demand.


He loves it. When I speak authoritatively, you can feel the excitement in his eyes. He is a sub.


I grab his kink immediately and start touching him. I straighten his collar, and take his stupid khaki pants off his polo shirt.


"You're going to do everything I say, aren't?," I say forcefully.


His eyes sparkle and he looks at my face like a child on Christmas. He smiles.


"Yes, ma'am." He squeaks.


Financial dominance

"Give me my credit card," I declare.


He is taken aback, but he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet.


Although he isn't certain about his movements, he manages to take out a credit-card and keep it for me.


"You know, I was banned from the backroom," I tell him as I take the card from his hands. "I'm not supposed fuck anyone back then, but I was just caught doing this."


His confusion caused his face to contort.


"I don’t want to fuck with you." He whispers shyly, "I want you to findom"


My eyebrows swell with excitement, and I can feel my nubles becoming more erect.


I wave the credit card in my hands and say "I can use it for whatever I want."


He is stumbling uncomfortably on his back, trying to conceal the erection under the table.


"Bartender! "Bartender! I want a bottle of fancy champagne shit!" He yells over my head.


He exhales hard and asks: "How much is this one?"


"It costs $250 per bottle," I said, articulating each syllable in a pause between each one, getting closer to his ears with each one.

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