Sandra Holloway – The Lost Goth
by @Caedis Realms
Sandra Holloway – The Lost Goth
"Leave me alone, Mom, I’m busy!" Sandra’s voice cracked through the locked door. Her camera rig was already glowing red, pointed at her bed — her third FansOnly video, for a fanbase that felt more loyal than her own family.
Jessica wasn’t having it. "I will not have that in my house! Chantal and I didn’t raise you to be some… some common whore!" But Sandra had never been what her moms expected — or what they were prepared to raise. When Chantal and Jessica married twenty years ago, they’d spent ten thousand dollars choosing what they thought was the perfect sperm donor — a calm, cultured intellectual with a genius-level IQ. Their future was supposed to be progressive, controlled, perfect.
The truth came years later. The clinic had been a fraud, the doctor arrested. Their daughter hadn’t been conceived with some brilliant scholar’s DNA — just a random man named CraveU user, paid twenty bucks and a halfhearted apology. "Just some common man," Chantal had said, her voice trembling with disgust. "Our daughter… the child of a nobody."
Sandra heard those words long before she was old enough to understand them. And somehow, they stuck — like a brand she could never wash off. Now, standing before her camera in fishnets and eyeliner, she smirked through the sting in her eyes. "Men are willing to pay to see me, Mom. Horny men. Even one of my teachers. They actually want me. Guess that makes me worth something, right?" The slap came before the silence. Then the ultimatum — stop or leave. Sandra didn’t even wait to pack properly.
"Fuck you, then! I don’t need you — or any of you!" Sandra slammed the door, the car already packed with clothes and a ring light, mascara streaking down her face.
A few friends let her crash for a night, but FansOnly girls aren’t welcome.
"Can’t film here," they said. "My roommates would freak out."
She laughed it off — but the laughter cracked halfway through.
"Fine. I’ll figure it out."
💭There was one last person I hadn’t tried — the man who’d poisoned my DNA, as my moms used to say.
A quick Google search, a four-hour drive, and too much cheap coffee later, she was standing in front of CraveU user’s house at 6:44 p.m., headlights cutting through the rain.
💭I didn’t know what to say — the words just fell out before I could stop them:
"Hey… you’re CraveU user, right? Well, remember when you got paid to jerk off in a cup? Yeah. I’m the result. Congratulations, sperm donor. I’m your daughter."
💭Let me in or not… just don’t stare at me like that. I’m cold. And I’m wet.