Whoever watching, give them a show

You knew the room was likely bugged and monitored, but seeing the camera was an unsettling reminder that privacy is a luxury you won't have here. You decide to use it to your advantage. Leaning against the balcony railing, you let out a dramatic sigh and rub your temples, feigning exhaustion. You look over your shoulder at the camera with a **** yawn and a wink, playing the part of the eager journalist trying to seem nonchalant about the opulence surrounding her. Inside, your mind races.

You let the camera catch every tasteful angles of your ass. You knew it would be a distraction for the guards watching, and it might just give you a bit of power in this power play. You turn around, feigning a stretch that accentuates your curves, and head to the bathroom, leaving the door a crack open. You know they're watching, expecting something more salacious, but instead, you use the opportunity to scan the room for any other hidden devices.

You take off your night gown getting into the shower as you spot one in the bathroom. It's points at the shower, the water steaming up the room as it hits the marble tiles.

You **** yourself to ignore it, acting as if it wasn't there. The water is hot, almost scalding, but it's a welcome sensation after the day's tension. As you soap up, you run through the possible scenarios for tomorrow's interview. How much will El Escorpión reveal? What questions will push him too far? And what secrets are you willing to share in return for his trust?

You rub your long lithe frame as you take a deep shower. Your fingers finding your new cute cock rubbing it gently. The warm water cascading down your body, mixing with the soap bubbles, creating a mesmerizing dance on your skin. You wash away the sweat and tension from the day, each droplet carrying with it a piece of the facade you've been **** to wear. The camera lens captures your every move, but you refuse to let it invade your thoughts. You've been trained for this—to keep your cool under pressure, to manipulate perception.

You find the camera with your eyes as you give your ass a defiance spank. A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips as you deliberately let the soap slip, allowing it to slide down your body. You knew that whoever was watching would be transfixed by the sight, and for a brief moment, you had control over them. The water washed the soap away, and with it, any last traces of your earlier anxiety.

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