A shivering passion

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A fulfilling night: Part 1

“Thank you for the five hundred bits, Ezhlyx. They ask: what do you think of the announcement for the new The Last of Us? Ehm, I’ll be honest, Ezhl, I’m not hyped at all. I didn’t play the first one because I didn’t own a ps3 or four at the time and the gameplay looks boring. I completely disliked the second one: the gameplay is still the same and the story sucks. I don’t know how they could think it was in any way… deep. I’ve watched porn with a better plot.” I put my legs up on my desk, watching myself on OBS and being careful not to show anything under my short Japanese school girl skirt. That would have probably been the end of my career on Twitch. Or a week ban, depending how the mods felt.
“Ohh, Rancid with the twenty dollars! Thank you a lot. Why am I always in the bathroom today? Well, girl secrets. I don’t know, I just hate dying, lol.”
I focused back on my game: I was trying to do a no-death run of the first Bloodborne. Anytime I died, I had to restart the game and… check a box for later. Mistress had told me that she watched my streams and that if I wasn’t being honest, she would punish me.
I gave a peak at the view count: 169 people were watching. I chuckled.
“Guys, give yourself a pog in the chat for reaching the funny number.” I glanced at chat and got welcomed by a number of people spamming “POG”. Not the emote, the letters, in all caps.
“For fuck’s sake, I know they removed the emote, but you could use something else. You can’t even Twitch right.” The chat went from pogs to sadge for being called out. “It’s not my fault if you’re all dumb.” I entered a new area in the game. I hadn’t been there yet.
“I told you how to be better, but you just don’t want to listen.” I shook my head, smiling. I heard the sound of splashing blood and my eyes opened wide.
“Oh shit, oh fuck! Ohh, Fuck Me!” I screamed, as a hoard of mobs jumped on me. I was already on low health. I gripped my controller and focused back on Bloodborne. God must have been happy with me, because, with a bit of hardship, I managed to kill everyone. I breathed out and walked forward. The healing animation started.
“I was dead. I can’t believe it. Your fault for spelling emot-” My character screamed as a shitty fucking dog ripped her throat out.
I collapsed on my chair and stared at the ceiling. Fs ran through the chat, along the rare sentence. I had just lost three hours of my life, not including the hour and half of the first few runs. All the tiredness rushed over me; I felt sweaty and wet. My character respawned.
“For fuck’s sake. I’m going to the bathroom again. I’ll run some ads in the meantime. See ya in five minutes.” I switched to the “be right back” scene and picked a small piece of cardboard I had on my desk.
It was divided in squares and each was covered by a piece of paper. Five were already uncovered. Nothing was written under the first, only a five. This five was written in every subsequent square. The second said “put on a cosplay.” I glanced at the pile of clothes on my bed, then at myself and my school girl shirt. The third said “remove your bra”. Fortunately, my tits were small and no one could really notice if I was wearing one. Still, the thought of doing it made me wet. The fourth said “cum with the webcam on”. I had sneaked in the bathroom to do this one. I was already aroused and it got me no time to cum on my new dildo. The fifth had been the worst one yet “take your pants off on stream”. This had required a bit of fiddling with the webcam. I started reading messages from chat, under the pretense I was resting. I moved the webcam in front of me, so that they could only see my face and torso. My black panties now laid on the floor.
“I hope it’s not too bad.” I whispered to myself, ripping the paper away. The first thing my eyes noticed was a ten. I gulped, but continued to read on. “Put your new dildo inside your pussy. No pants allowed.” My eyes were now open wide. I couldn’t do it now. My fingers moved on my clit instinctively as the heat between my thighs increased. I felt the soft skin and moaned: masturbating without hairs was so much better. I used to only shave during summer, but Mistress Juliana didn’t like body hairs. She was even paying for my laser sessions.
I looked around my room for that damned rubber cock, but it wasn’t here, not even under the bed. I had probably left it in the bathroom. I stretched and walked there, feeling the wetness of my lips as I moved. I crouched down and opened my cupboard under the sink. There I found a small, white inconspicuous box. I opened it to reveal a few of my toys: my all time favourite rabbit vibrator, a tiny butt plug, a vibrating bullet and the pink dildo Mistress had gifted me for being such a good girl. It wasn’t enormous because I wasn’t really supposed to fuck myself with this one: since the day I agreed to be her fuck friend, Miss Martín had had a thing for keeping me filled up. “To remember that day”, as she said.
I rested on the door and opened my legs: touching, I decided I definitely didn’t need lube. I opened my lips to expose my wet hole and lined the tip of the dildo. With a sigh, I gently pushed it in, as far as it could go. I felt the tip deep inside me and moaned. Was I allowed to cum? I was getting so horny again, even if I had cummed today.
I shook my head and stopped: I wasn’t allowed until I asked her. I clenched my muscles and washed my hands. Soon, the dildo felt like it was slipping away. I pushed it in again before walking out.
I saw Samira adjusting her hair in the mirror in the hall. She was also so much different than me, resembling Miss Martín in some aspects: her skin had a deeper olive tone than Mistress and she was even taller. Her eyes and hair were also dark, almost black, and she had thick hair. I had asked her once why she didn’t use a veil since she was Muslim: she answered that she wasn’t in a good relationship with her religion and preferred not to follow the practices. I had picked up that it was a bad subject to speak about and never asked more.
“Are you going out?” She nodded and grabbed a small handbag. She was wearing a white cocktail dress and high heels. “With Max?”
“Who else?” I had met her boyfriend once: he came upstairs to wait for Samira, since she hadn’t got ready in time. He was the only one to sort of resemble me, except he was much more fit and I could barely reach his chest. He was almost as pale as me and we had the same eye colour. I saw him sitting on the couch while I was making myself a sandwich for dinner: he was very well dressed, with a suit jacket and leather shoes; I was wearing an old pink dress from when I was eleven. He tried talking to me, but my shyness made me fumble all my words until we started discussing graphic cards and pc builds. Nonetheless, I left him there alone with a bullshit excuse about having to study.
“Will you return home for the night?” I smirked. I imagined her moaning under Maxwell and, suddenly, the fake cock felt a little too heavy. I clenched my muscles harder and made my knees touch each other. My cheeks started to warm up.
Samira grabbed her pair of keys. “Probably not. You can bring your boyfriend here if you have one.” She smirked back and opened the door.
“Well, enjoy your cock, slut.”
“I’ll be sure to, whore.” She laughed. “Have a good night. If you want anything from the café for breakfast, text me tomorrow morning.”
She left and I returned to my room. As always, I let myself fall on my blue DXRacer. When my butt hit the pillow, I realised the mistake. I felt like I had just gotten rammed. It didn’t hurt, but I couldn’t hold a moan. I opened my legs and rubbed my clit. I glanced at my monitor.
Oh fuck, the stream. I had forgotten. I tried to compose myself and put my cat-hear headphones on.
“Well hello, my friends. That was a very fucking long pause. I’m sorry. I’m not feeling very well today.” I picked up the controller and, as always, rested it on my lap. As it turned on again, it vibrated, sending waves of pleasure at my already over stimulated cunt. I bit my lips and sighted. I couldn’t stream like this.
I started reading chat messages and picked up my phone.
“Mistress could I please stop streaming for today?” I wrote, telling a story about middle school to my chat. She answered after about a minute.
“Unless something serious is happening, I’d rather enjoy your erect nipples. No, you cannot stop.” I quickly looked at my video: I couldn’t see my nipples, but maybe my eyes just weren’t good enough. Was everyone else noticing them? No one was saying anything.
“Please, Mistress. I can’t hold my moans and whimpers, I can’t stream in this state.”
“If you want to stop, put the dildo in your asshole. You can’t use lube, only the juices from your wet cunt. Whore.” I bit my lips again: she knew that was impossible for me. I hadn’t done that much anal to get the dildo in my ass. I could barely manage the butt plug.
I was about to let go of my phone, when another idea came to mind.
“Mistress, I’m home alone for the night. Would you like to spend it with me?”
“...” Typing, it said. I grew hopeful. “I want to find you on all fours, with the latex lingerie on. Your ass must be facing the door, your head on the ground and your legs well far apart, so that I can see the dildo in your pussy and the butt plug you’re going to stick in that tight asshole.”
“Thank you, Mistress. When do you think you’ll be here to take care of your good little whore?” I continued to talk to chat.
“Half an hour.” I put the phone down and switched to a webcam scene, closing the game in the background.
“Sorry chat for the extremely scuffed stream, especially now. I’m feeling a bit sick, as I said.” I chit-chatted for a few more minutes, glancing at the clock every so often.
“Alright I think this is for today. I’ll take a few days off if I’m still sick, we’ll see. Well, see ya. Have a good night!” As soon as I was sure the stream was off, I got naked.
The window curtains were open and showed the dark streets of the city. The cars were passing by, but now one could see me from this high up in my flat. I clenched my vagina not to let the dildo slide away and, pushing my ass and pussy against the glass, for anyone to enjoy, removed the nightstand drawer. Hidden at the very bottom, was a flat plastic bag. I put the drawer back in. I looked at the glass and noticed a wet print.
The suit consisted of some latex straps: it had a spiked collar with a ring and squished my tits a little. The nipples weren’t covered because there was a ring around them. There were some straps even around the thighs, but I was too skinny to give any “thick thighs” effect. lastly, a g-string went between my buttcheecks and labia; the clit was exposed by a ring. There was a ball-gag as well, but Miss Juliana had told me nothing about having to wear it now, so I loosely put it around my neck. Now for the buttplug.
The g-string helped me a little with keeping the dildo inside me, but I still tightened the muscle, to give myself some pleasure whilst walking to the bathroom with some lube in hand. Now that Samira was gone, I didn’t need to be silent or even close the door. I just grabbed my butt plug and left the box on the floor. The door was open to show the dark corridor. The only blue and purple light was coming from my room.
I squeezed some lube on my fingers and rested my head on the sink counter, legs open. from the back, I massaged my butthole, covering it well, then I put my middle finger in and moved it around, stretching. I inserted another finger, but, at the third, I encountered some resistance. I squeezed a bit more lube and pushed my fingers in. It hurt a little, but now I was ready. I grabbed the buttplug and poked my hole. The tip went in smoothly and I moaned, feeling my insides completely full. I still wasn’t done though. I breathed hard and bit my lip. Centimetre by centimetre, I worked the toy in. Whimpering, the thickest part of it came in. I felt my clit throb on it’s own. Just the end of the plug, then I was done. I rubbed the clit to calm myself down, moaning quietly. As my muscles relaxed, I rammed the plug in.
“For fuck’s sake!” I yelped, massaging my ass. I stood up, helping myself with the counter. I was about to cum already, just from having all my holes plugged.
I wobbled towards the kitchen balcony, where I could see the road in front of the building. I went out and the chilly air of the night hit my skin; my nipples were erect and all my body contracted, making me forcefully feel the objects inside of me. No one was on the other balconies. I waited a little for Miss Juliana’s car, but I was afraid of being seen like that, so I went back in. I recovered my phone from my room, and sat on the couch. I had not received a new message from her yet. My desperation grew and I started humping the couch, moaning quietly in the dark room. It still wasn’t even nine p.m. I checked my twitter for a little while.


The doorbell rang. I sprang up from the sofa, leaving the phone there, and rushed to open the main entrance to the building. from the camera, I could see the abyss of Mistress’ eyes. I also unlocked the door to my flat and left it ajar.
I kneeled down, making sure my legs were wide open, then laid my head on the floor, as She wanted. I also put my arms behind my back. I was uncomfortable to have all that weight on my cheek, but I would have been damned by saying it wasn’t exciting. I pushed both my dildo and buttplug well inside, just to be sure She wouldn’t find any flaws.
I heard a step coming from the stairwell: high heels. I bit my bottom lip. Another heel click, then another. She was getting closer. I wanted to finger myself, but I had to wait. Just a little more. Just a little more. The door opened and closed behind me. I remained silent and closed my eyes. I felt her move around me, checking me out. She didn’t say a word, but I heard her get something from a bag.
Something light traced my spine, making me shiver, and stopped right over my buttcheecks. I whimpered, not knowing what was going to happen.
“How many times have I told you, you need to tie your hair.” Then a snap.

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