S.A.C. 3 - Brock's Livestream
Brock's fingers found the radio clipped to his overalls, his thumb hovering over the power switch as he stood in the doorway of the locker room. The air inside was thick and warm, almost tropical, and it made his skin prickle with something that felt like anticipation mixed with vertigo. His heart hammered against his ribs in a rhythm that matched the pulse in his groin, where his cock had been half-hard since the moment he'd entered Phatbuldge Manor. He pressed the switch, silencing the device, and then reached for the body camera mounted on his chest. The team didn't need to see this. This was for his audience. His paying audience. The rationalization came easy... too easy , maybe, but Brock didn't pause to examine it. If Duke or Josh wandered into frame while he was streaming, it would be a disaster. Copyright issues, privacy concerns, the whole mess that came with accidentally broadcasting someone without permission. Better to just... handle this solo. Document the...