My Husband the Pimp
Out of sheer boredom, I randomly clicked into a livestream titled "Taming an Innocent Housewife."
In the stream, a woman in a silk chemise was lazily puttering around the kitchen. When the camera finally showed her face, I was completely stunned—it was me.
Not only that, but on the public chat, the top donor was spamming gifts like crazy. [Make her drink that spiked milk.]
Soon after, a man groveled in response: [Thanks for the gift, bro. She'll drink it right now. I promise you a hell of a show tonight.]
I'd recognize that voice anywhere—it was my husband, Jake, who was supposedly on a business trip overseas.
My own husband had turned our home into a hidden-camera setup, treating me like his personal reality show star. And now, he was trying to feed me illegal drugs just to rake in donations.
Most people would've broken down or called the cops. But I'm what you'd call the ultimate pro at playing nice—everyone in our circle knows I'm the queen of manipulation.
I picked up that glass of milk, looked straight into the camera, and gave a fragile, tantalizing smile. "Since my husband's not home, drinking this milk all alone feels so lonely... I wish some strong, capable guy would come take care of me."
The chat exploded. Donations went through the roof.
Later that night, Jake burst through the front door, ready to "discipline" me—but froze in his tracks.
There I was, sitting in lingerie on the lap of the top donor, grinning at my husband. "Honey, you're back! I helped you hit your goals tonight!"
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