Page 9 of Breaking Vincent

Bowie nods and stretches his arm to grab one of the sheets, “Oh yeah, this is what Jamie was telling me about earlier. It’s his website and with it getting more popular he wanted to promote it to the club members.”

I grab one and see the wordsVoyeurism Fansin bold letters.

“What is it?” I ask.

“It’s like a streaming service, think Porn Hub, but kinky,” Bowie explains. His phone buzzes on the desk and then he says, “Anyway I have to get going, my Daddy is here.”And then he’s skipping out the door.

I grab one of the leaflets and fold it in half, before shoving it in my pocket. The information a heavy weight in my mind as I drive home.

Chapter 5 –

Vincent

Since Nate mentioned the collaring ceremony a couple of days ago, I’ve been trying to find the perfect getup for the occasion.

Which is why now my bedroom is a bombsite. The fancy dress/kinky outfits I keep in a box inside my wardrobe are lying on its side with all its contents hanging out.

I have a lot of clothes, but nothing is standing out to me.

I’m making this much more complicated than it needs to be. I grab my phone and connect Spotify to the speakers that sit next to my bed.

My taste in music varies depending on my mood. I scroll past all the metal and rock, and hit play on my2000’s main character playlist.

I walk over to my wardrobe and sit crossed-legged on the floor and separate the clothes into two piles – a maybe pile and a fuck no pile.

I sing along with the music, nodding my head and wiggling my ass to the beat. I feel like Emma Stone in that movie, you know the one with the birthday card?

Finally, when I have my maybe stack of clothes sorted, I shove the ugly pile back in the wardrobe and scoop the items off the floor before dumping them on my bed.

I have three outfit choices to choose from, so I strip out of my clothes before trying on the first set.

“What do you think, Mr Mittens?” I ask the lump of fluff that's snoozing at the end of my bed.

The cat doesn’t even open his eyes at my question. He’s always ignoring me, unless I mention din-dins then he comes strutting his furry ass over to find me.

I haven’t been to The Bonding Lounge before. Since going out to clubs isn’t my idea of a good time and I know it's not the same as a regular night club, but the whole thing seems exhausting. I am looking forward to seeing the ceremony, though.

I fasten my belt buckle and slip the dark red shirt over my head. The outfit is basic as fuck, but it looks smart. My trousers are just plain black and they fit nicely across my plump ass.

Just as I’m about to take the shirt off, an idea springs to mind.

I grab my phone and open the camera, snapping a few pictures in various poses, before unfastening the shirt and letting it hang off my shoulders. The deep red material is a nice contrast against my tattoos and long white hair.

“I would make a bad-ass vampire,” I say to myself, as I use one hand to scrape my hair up onto the top of my head, squeezing the strands closest to my scalp with a tight grip. I throw my head back and groan as I snap another picture.

Flicking through the photos, I have to admit I look hot.

I try on another shirt, this time a long-sleeved black mesh piece. The see-through material shows off the ink covering my stomach and arms, as well as the jewellery in my nipples and belly button.

I snap a few more pictures, this time sitting on the edge of my bed and spreading my legs as I arch my back.

When I took the first set of photos to upload to my Voyeurism Fans application, I kept my face on show, but I think I might keep my face out of the ones that will end up on the website.

I’m not ashamed of someone I know finding out, but you know how crazy people can get on the internet.

Finally, I change my trousers into a pair of skin-tight leather pants. As much as I loved the mesh shirt, I feel like the red shirt goes better with the leather pants.

On the night I could accessorise the outfit and leave a good number of buttons unfastened.