Livestreaming My Sister

The dress teased her breasts perfectly.

Beneath it she wore a matching pale pink bra and panties set.

"I want to put the egg in now," she said, "and do a quick pre-game test."

This seemed like a wonderful idea.

She darted off to her room and returned a few minutes later, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"It's in," she said. "But it's not turned on yet. It felt amazing though, just coming down the stairs!"

She sat on the sofa chair.

"Turn me on!" she said. "But keep me on low. This is just a test."

"Promise," I said.

Having seen the power of the egg firsthand, I had vowed never to abuse it again. Its power was some Indiana Jones level shit.

"You remember the sign for STOP?" I said.

We both did Star Trek fingers; aka the Vulcan Salute.

"Good," I said. "I'll be watching out for it."

"Ok, then," she said, taking a sip of whiskey. Fire me up!"

She clutched the arms of the chair as if she was about to be launched into the air.

I turned on the egg at setting 1.

"Already feels nice," she said.

"Great! So it's working. Shall I turn it off?"

"Leave it on, if you don't mind," she said. "It doesn't hurt to start the show a little horny."

"You're the boss," I said.

"You're the boss," she said.

"I'm the pimp," I said guiltily.

"I like that even more."

Maybe it was the drink, or the nature of her pre-show "foreplay," but I could have sworn she was flirting with me.

She was high from the liquor, and perfectly limbered up from the egg in her snatch.

We were getting on so well, I wished she didn't have to go and perform.

At 8.55 PM we hugged, and took our places in each other's rooms.

I opened my laptop and went straight to Ursula's homepage.

The livestream would be starting in 3, 2, 1...

She was instantly more at ease tonight.

She spent the first twenty minutes flirting and chatting with her fans.

She looked incredible, and clearly felt sexy.

But she kept schtum about the fact there was a sex toy implanted in her.

She didn't talk much about sex at all.

She just basked in all the attention.

I could tell from the way she touched her hair that she was flirting with us.

All 1128 of us.

And that we each believed, equally unrealistically, that we had a chance.

But I was the only one with the keys to her vagina.

I could fire her up at any time if I wanted.

The app was open and ready on my phone.

I was determined to wait for the best moment.

I wanted to catch her off guard, but not interfere with her mojo.

She preempted me.

After about 15 minutes, she gave me the hand signal to turn her up.

I placed the device on setting 2, and tried to observe any visible changes in her body language.

She had definitely become more animated, which made her even more charming.

She responded to a few of the more sexual questions that had been posed; which made me suspect she was feeling more sensual and relaxed.

One user asked, What position makes you cum hardest?

She would never ordinarily read a question like this aloud, let alone answer it.

But she responded with a soliloquy that was as revealing as it was informative - supposing she was telling the truth:

"I know it's boring, but I do love missionary," she said. "I feel like God made it work best that way. My favorite is probably to sit on top. Facing him. I like to be able to control the pressure of his cock sliding in and out. And I want to be able to look into his eyes."

I had never heard her say the word 'cock' before.

But apparently it was the magic word.

Because my own appendage of that name began to stiffen.

She set the first goal for the room at 50,000 tokens to reveal a secret.

This was a creative idea we hadn't discussed in advance, and it caused a stir on the message board.

"She's really a dude!" one user theorized.

"Can't be. We've seen her pussy" said another.

"It's fucking spectacular" a third observed.

"I bet she's wearing no panties" was the warmest guess from someone.

I kept her egg simmering at setting 2 the whole time.

She was handling it well, but I noticed a few moments here and there where she would lose control of her limbs for a second.

Almost like she was glitching.

They were only small, involuntary jerks. But I'd seen something similar when we rehearsed and I knew them to be foreshocks.

When the goal of the room had been reached, a klaxon sounded.

Charlie leaned in to the camera and whispered her secret:

"Shh," she said, one finger pressed against her adorable grin. "I have a remote-control vibrator inside me."

She said it intimately, as if she was confiding it to one person only.

Not 2332.

The message board lit up in response to the revelation.

"Oh and another thing..." she said, "I'm not in charge of the controls... Someone else is..."

This created even more of a stir.

Users began to guess if it was her boyfriend, or her lesbian partner; or another NestWork performer currently on the platform in a different room...

She took it even further.

She said in a stage whisper: "it's my brother who's in charge of the controls!"

This created an even greater commotion than her first confession.

The irony, of course, was that nobody believed her.

I mean, they loved it.

But they doubted it.

The tokens poured in, and some played along with the fantasy for the sake of their own arousal.

I don't think it crossed anyone's mind that she was telling the truth.

Perhaps that's why she felt comfortable enough to say it.

"Is your brother watching now?" one user asked.

"Oh yes," she said.

"Is he in this room?" asked another.

"He might be," she said with a wink.

"Ursula's brother..." wrote a new user, "if you see this: turn up the speed on her bro!"

I saw it and immediately turned her up to setting 3.

Her face contorted with a convulsion of ungovernable pleasure.

Tokens ka-ching'ed in.

Her helpless breasts juddered and quaked within the slim confines of her tight dress.

The e-crowd went e-wild.

For the first time on camera, she started to play with her tits.

It was everything we'd ever dreamed of.

She squeezed them together; she mauled them through her dress.

She played with them in ways that everybody watching wanted to play with them.

The next goal she set for the room was to strip naked (apart from her socks) and reveal the device inside her.

The goal was achieved so quickly that she should have set the price higher.

She wasn't acting with her usual entrepreneurial savvy tonight.

Maybe it's not wise to be horny while prostituting yourself.

She peeled off my favorite dress, and kneeled on the floor with her thighs apart.

She leaned back onto her heels.

Her body looked like several gods had conspired to dream it up.

It was lit perfectly.

Shout out to the director.

Then her bra came off.

This alone was worth the price of admission.

Her tits were swollen with arousal.

She didn't hide them tonight either.

She kept touching her nipples, seemingly unconsciously. It was apparent they had become an erogenous zone.

She was enjoying her exhibitionism more than ever.

But the true prize came when she peeled off her panties.

We were rewarded with an unhindered view of her sublime pussy; its pursed lips, soft and pink.

And the egg inside her. Its black antennae sticking out like she had a little silicon alien cock.

The audience loved it.

They couldn't stop tipping appreciation, and posting pictures of their dicks.

Or someone's dicks.

She was the second most watched female performer on the platform at that time.

The rules of the app state that members of a chat room are not permitted to give instructions to performers about what they would like them to do.

These privileges are reserved for a private video room, which costs several hundred thousand tokens to enter.

But Ursula's fans had got so worked up tonight that they were ignoring the policy.

The feed became as rambunctious in chat-form as a horde of horny drunk men might be in a real world saloon.

She set the final goal for the room as involuntary orgasms.

She made the promise that once the goal had been reached, she would surrender her body to her brother's command for the remainder of the show.

As a result, some of the users attempted to converse with me directly with their own recommendations.

They still didn't believe I was a real sibling.

But many played along.

In about 20 minutes the goal was reached.

Even my sister's dog, who was in her room with me, appeared to sense something momentous was about to occur.

Charlie could barely hide her own excitement. I like to think it was because she was handing her body over to me.

I increased the egg to setting 4.

Apart from a few facial contortions and knee-jerk yelps of pleasure, there was no new evidence of activity about her person; nor movement in the region of the device.

So I turned her up to setting 5 and now we could see her precious little pussy begin to tremble.

It was fantastic TV.

The new movement sent involuntary contractions out to her limbs like concentric ripples on a lake.

What the hell, I thought, and turned her up to setting 6.

Now her thighs began to wobble too.

Her vibrating body got stuck in cycles in which her limbs would shake uncontrollably.

The noises she made were primal; and utterly non-demonstrative.

They were reflexive cries from the depths of her orgasming soul.

I had no choice but to take my cock out and jerk off accordingly.

What can a man do?

It was the most erotic thing I'd ever known to exist.

I had to let go, or I would have ejaculated in a flash.

Charlotte stopped remembering to look at the camera.

Or she stopped caring.

She was lost to a series of labyrinthine orgasms that animated and exhausted her in turns.

And provided sublime entertainment for the rest of us.

She was cumming so hard, and yet it was clear the orgasms were still growing in strength.

Like smaller storms spiraling into a typhoon.

The amount of time between them grew smaller, and the contractions grew more intense.

Until soon she was having an apocalyptic climax that made the previous ones seem like foreshadowing.

We were watching a naked woman in a mask who was completely out of control.

She thrashed around like an in-patient that should have been strapped to the bed.

She was no longer able to triangulate with the idea of her own exhibition.

Or her own existence.

She wasn't performing anymore, she was a writhing ball of sex.

She was going through an erotic acid trip before our eyes.

It blew my mind thinking how much cum her audience must have spilled.

And I could no longer hold back mine.

It wasn't the most tasteful move, but I ejaculated all over her bed.

Long powerful streams of sperm that graffitied her bedspread.

It was like I was painting the outline of a tree in winter.

The force was so strong, I almost stumbled and fell into the sea of it.

But then my attention caught the screen.

My sister was frantically doing Star Trek fingers.

Or at least trying to while she violently orgasmed.

It was the signal for me to stop the device.

Fuck!

I turned the egg off quickly and watched her collapse on the bed.

She lay for a while silently.

Some on the message board speculated she was dead.

"Where's her brother now?" asked one user.

"He's got blood on his hands," said another.

"She's still breathing," a wiser person observed.

By the time she came back around, Charlie was physically drained.

A little shy, but pleased with herself.

Her followers were delighted by the resurrection.

More tokens arrived, like endless wise men with gifts.

I noticed the total had jumped higher than ever since I last looked at it.

One user had tipped 500,000 tokens in one go, around the time of her volcanic orgasm.

This amounted to a $1000 gift.

And it hadn't even been connected to a goal or incentive in the room.

She had been cumming for free at that point.

Who gives a hot woman that they don't know $1000 for cumming?

I'll tell you exactly who.

A certain high-stakes donor who goes by the username HomerZuckerman45.

Third Livestream

By the time the epic livestream was over, my sister was shattered.

I felt irrationally disappointed that she was re-wearing her dress when she emerged from my room. And I was even more disappointed to learn she had taken the egg out.

But what had I been expecting?

A private aftershow?

I was no better than all the other horny men watching her online; falsely believing I had a hope in hell.

Everyone wants to fuck someone off the TV.

Since I was her own brother, I probably had the least chance of anyone.

It was a tough pill to swallow.

Charlie had accepted me as her director and producer.

She had shown such comfort and familiarity with me.

But there was no indication she felt any attraction.

Why would she?

She was my sister.

She might have become an overnight digital stripper, but that didn't mean she was suddenly into incest.

Besides, she had something more urgent on her mind.

She had noticed that HomerZuckerman45 donated 500,000 tokens at the end of her livestream.

But there was more.

Apparently he had followed it up with a DM that contained a new proposal.

"Listen to this," she said, reading: "1 million tokens for a private solo room, you and me. 30 minutes. LMK."

"One million tokens?" I said. "That's nuts! Are you gonna do it?"

"Of course!" she said. "That's two thousand dollars for half an hour's work! And that's the admission fee. He'll probably tip more during the show."

"It doesn't freak you out going one on one with this guy?" I said.

"Why is it any different than 2000 people? It's still just me and a camera."

"You might have to look at his cock," I said.

"Sure, but I won't have to touch it!"

She stuck her tongue out at me.

She sensed my caution and I don't think it made much sense to her.

It didn't make that much sense to me.

Was I jealous?

I decided the best move was just to support her.

I encouraged her to write back and schedule a time with him for the show.

It was set for Tuesday at 8PM CST, which was when Dad took Mom to her weekly dance class.

Charlie said she'd need to warm-up beforehand, so that she felt suitably turned on for whatever he wanted her to do.

"You seem to like the idea of being ordered around," I said.

"I am pretty stoked," she admitted.

Then she said something that blew me away.

"I want you to be there."

"What?"

"In the room."

"While you...?"

"Not so he knows, of course. You'd sit off camera. But yes, as my safety net."

I managed to refrain from my instinct, which was to do a dance of gratitude to the Lord.

I tried to adopt a professional tone instead:

"Ok. I think it's probably a good idea, just to be safe," I said. "And at least I'm your brother, so it won't be weird."

I don't know why I felt the need to add this nonsense.

"It'll be the opposite," she said. "Having you in the room will keep me calm."

"I got you," I assured her.

And I really did.

"Thank you, Jay," she said, giving me a hug.

She nestled her head in my neck, and pressed her flattened palm against my heart. "Best big brother ever!"

"Hardly," I said.

I was unable to enjoy the compliment when I was guilty of an increasing number of crimes against her; many just fantasies about what I'd like to do to her.

I broke off our embrace.

I kissed her goodnight on the forehead.

I tried hard not to watch the outline of her ass retreat down the hallway.

***

So our friendly cyber-hood pervert was back.

And apparently he was still a big spender.

In hindsight, I felt silly for not inviting him to the party before, knowing how much cash he appeared to have on hand for this type of affair.

But he was here now, and his arrival had already proven lucrative.

He was getting his own private sex show with my sister.

By the time Tuesday night came around, I felt overexcited.

Our parents were dancing around the living room, preparing for Mom's class.

My sister and I exchanged intense wordless glances about our own night ahead.

We decided she would lay out all of her toys; egg included, but not inserted.

She would let the wealthy weirdo choose his preferred weapon to molest her with virtually.

Fifteen minutes before the digital curtain went up, we repeated our ritual of drinking a shot of liquor.

We chose tequila tonight, worrying that Dad would notice if the level went too low on any individual bottle. He allowed us to drink beer, but didn't love us touching his spirits.

Choosing my sister's outfit wasn't easy without knowing what particular fetish HomerZuckerman45 was into.

But my sister looked hot in anything; including (probably) a trash bag.

We brainstormed some entertaining suggestions.

"Flight Attendant," I said.

"Pilot," she replied.

"Coast guard!" I countered.

We laughed.

"Maybe something a bit less employment-related..."

"School uniform," I said with a leer.

"Freddie Krueger," she said.

Eventually we decided she'd go with understated, but sexy.

A simple black dress that clung to her like I wanted to.

With nothing underneath.

Her tits looked so good it almost didn't matter they were covered up. The reward to a person's life was the same.

She surprised me by announcing that she'd inserted the egg, as part of her getting-in-the-mood.

She kept herself on a low hum of setting 2, the way you keep champagne on ice.

Together with the liquor, it had the desired effect of getting her into the right headspace for what lay ahead.

She told me it was important to be warmed up in case he wanted her to fuck herself with something "especially violently."

I might have audibly gulped.

She also said I was the puppet master in all of this.

When the truth was I was the puppet.

I would have done anything she told me.

I don't think she had any idea how true this was.

And I was far too scared to tell her.

So where did that leave us?

As we drew closer to showtime, she asked me to raise the egg to setting 4.

She proceeded to squirm helplessly on the couch and have a mini orgasm for me.

Then she shut her thighs with a clap, reached beneath her dress and pulled out the device that was nestled inside her.

It was enticingly coated in a film of nectar, like a twinkie glazed in sugar syrup.

She downed the rest of her mezcal, took a deep breath and said, "Come on then..."

She took my hand and led me upstairs to my own room.

I sat in the corner, up against the wall.

I was tucked behind the WebCam so that I wouldn't be seen in frame. But I did still have a view of one of the monitors.

If she chose to get down on the floor, I would be able to remain out of sight.

My heart was pounding, as if it was me who was about to fuck myself with an object for a stranger.

"Wish me luck," she said.

I gave her a way-too enthusiastic thumbs-up.

The next moment she was live.

HomerZuckerman45 was online and asking to be let into the room.

She clicked the button to admit him.

He had disabled his camera.

All we saw was a blank screen with his username.