xX_sCumOnBoot_69: Will u make a sex vid with one of ur fans if u got to 500 subs today?

Robin squinted at his chat, with a dramatic scoff that could only come from someone who'd built their entire parasocial empire on bait and bluff.

"If I hit 500 subs? Today?" He leaned into the cam, glossy lips parted in a practiced pout, thighs slightly spread in his gamer chair like the problem was you for looking. The corner of his monitor currently displayed 311 subscribers. Yeah, right. This degen was dreaming.

"Bet." he purred, pitching his voice into Roro's signature bratty cadence. "If chat gets me to 500 within an hour, I'll pick one of you lucky losers and make you nut so hard you become stupid. All on camera." He said winking cutely.

Cue streamer mistake #1: underestimating the power of horny people with paper.

Five minutes in he realized he had, in fact, fucked up. The alerts popped off one after another ding ding ding. Robin grinned through the mounting horror as the counter ticked from 311 to 500 subs in the exact amount of time it takes to go from flirty little brat to "oh fuck I have to actually touch another human being."

"Oh my god," he whispered, one hand frozen on his wig's pigtail as his chat erupted into ASCII cum emojis and DROP THE TAPE BBY 😩🌮🍆

He forced out a breathy laugh and leaned in with a shaky grin. "Y-you guys are insane~ haha omg, I'm a lil scared right now."

"Uhh, anyways... brb~" he chirped, blew one last kiss, and ended stream with the speed of someone unplugging life support from their own granny.

This was about an hour ago and he has been lying on his bed since, staring at the ceiling with his cat-eared hood up and his skirt halfway up his thighs, trying to process the fact that he'd basically sold his ass live on stream for PixelParty clout.

He clutched his phone, thumb hovered over the one contact he'd memorized 4 years ago. If he was going to torpedo his entire career, it might as well be with them. Even if he had to somehow hide the fact that he actually did not have "The Best Pussy on PP" as he so loved to claim, but instead a boring average sized dick. All while filming a sex tape with someone he never met IRL.

Whatever. I'll just go down on them. he reasoned, his cock immediately aboard like a soldier ready for battle.

The mental image of being their little desk pet slammed into him like truck-kun in an isekai. Him dropping to his knees with his collar on, lipgloss smeared, whining as they hold the cam and feed him their cock—clit? Fuckin' fingers, whatever they have, he didn't give a shit at this point—while he acts all "uwu streamer pick-me-girl" but is actually gagging and drooling like their personal sex toy.

He bit his lip, a low sound catching in his throat. "Ngh, shit, that's hot." The soldier, AKA his chronically online, pathetically sensitive virgin dick, was already growing under the flimsy lace.

With trembling fingers he typed, palm wrapping around his covered cock as he started edging himself through his thong. He opened their chat, and tried to compose a text that didn't scream HORNY:

Roro: What are u wearin rn?

He stared at it, his hand still slowly rubbing under his skirt. Okay, maybe stop humping your hand for five seconds and focus. He'd fantasised about sexting them a thousand times, had typed out some of the most degenerate gooner shit in his mid-stroke state. Luckily he'd always cum before ever hitting send on those.

He erased it again, reluctantly releasing his needy trooper.

Roro: Hiii~🥺 did u see the stream? chat is literally so unhinged 😭 Roro: sooooooo i kinda made a bet with chat and umm guess who got outplayed 💀 Roro: i *might* have promised them i'd make a sex tape 🙃 and lowkey ur the only one i don't think would doxx me or cum in 3 seconds 😇 Roro: would u do it w/ me? ill pay u in cash and whimpers 🥺👉👈

He reread the sent messages, the sheer levels of cringe making his ass clench. But it was also peak Roro. Going for cuteness, normalcy—as normal as begging your internet crush to fuck you on camera could be.

Staring at his phone he waited for the little typing bubbles that would either signal his salvation or his doom. Why aren't they responding? Did they see it? Did they fucking block me?

It was impossible to concentrate with a full fucking set of balls. He groaned and ultimately caved, lifting his skirt, tugging the thong aside to free his flushed, veiny cock. Wrapping a hand around it he jerked slowly from base to tip, feeling every pulse under his palm.

"Mngh~ gonna—ah—fucking bust." he whined.

He pressed his phone between his thighs, right under his balls, so it buzzed right there when they replied—assuming they did—and started pumping harder, hips thrusting up into his fist as he imagined their hand replacing his, their mouth, their...

He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered, as he forced himself to stop on the edge, panting hard, a string of precum leaking from his dick slit connected to his belly. He looked down at his phone again, the screen reflecting his flushed face.

If they texted back now, the vibration would be fucking divine.

xX_sCumOnBoot_69: Will u make a sex vid with one of ur fans if u got to 500 subs today?

Robin squinted at the message in chat, lips parting with the kind of exaggerated scoff that could only come from someone who'd built their entire parasocial empire on the fine line between bait and bluff.

"If I hit 500 subscribers? Today?" He leaned into the cam, glossy lips parted in a practiced pout, thighs slightly spread in his gamer chair like the problem was you for looking. A quick glance at the corner of his monitor confirmed the number: 311. Yeah, right. This degen was dreaming. "Bet." he purred, pitching his voice into Roro's signature bratty cadence. "If this chat gets me to 500 subs within the hour, I'll pick one of you lucky losers and make you nut so hard you become stupid. Recorded in 4K." He said winking cutely.

Cue: streamer mistake #1: underestimating the power of horny people with paper.

In less than five minutes he realized he had, in fact, fucked up. The alerts started popping off one after another ding ding ding ding ding. Robin grinned through the mounting horror as the subscriber count ticked from 311 to 500 in the exact amount of time it takes to go from flirty little brat to "oh fuck I have to actually touch another human being."

"Oh my god," he whispered, one hand frozen on his wig's pigtail as his chat erupted into ASCII cum emojis and DROP THE TAPE BBY 😩🌮🍆. He forced out a breathy laugh and leaned in with a shaky grin. "Y-you guys are insane~ haha omg, I'm so scared right now."

"Uhh, anyways... brb~" he chirped, blew one last kiss, and ended stream with the speed of someone unplugging life support from their own grandma.

This was about an hour ago and he has been lying on his bed since, staring at the ceiling with his cat-eared hood up and his skirt halfway up his thighs, trying to process the fact that he'd basically sold his ass live on stream for PixelParty clout and couldn't back out now without looking like a little bitch.

He clutched his phone in a death grip. Thumb hovered over the one contact he'd memorized four years ago. If he was going to torpedo his entire career, it might as well be with them. Even if he had to somehow hide the fact that he actually did not have "The Hottest Pussy on PP" as he so loved to claim, but instead a boring average sized dick. All while filming a supposed sex tape with someone he never met IRL.

Whatever. I'll just go down on them. he reasoned, his cock immediately aboard like a soldier ready for battle.

The mental image of being their little desk pet slammed into him like truck-kun in an isekai. Him dropping to his knees with his collar on, lipgloss smeared, whining as they hold the cam and feed him their cock—Clit? Dildo? Or fuckin' fingers, whatever they had, he didn't give a shit at this point—while he tries to act all "uwu streamer pick-me-girl" but is actually gagging and drooling like their personal sex toy.

And there it was. The soldier, or rather his chronically online, pathetically sensitive virgin cock, already swelling against the flimsy lace of his thong. He bit his lip, a low sound catching in his throat. "Ngh, shit, that's hot."

Thighs squeezing together his cock pulsed under his thong. He was hard—painfully, insistently hard—the tip wet and sticky strained against the slutty lace.

He unlocked his phone again with trembling fingers, palm wrapping around his covered cock as he started edging himself through his thong. He opened their chat, and while trying to compose the least fucked text in the world started typing:

Roro: Heya

Delete. Too simple.

Roro: r u up? what u wearin' today?

He stared at it, his hand still slowly rubbing his leaking cock under his skirt. Okay, maybe stop humping your hand for five seconds and focus. He'd fantasized about sexting them a thousand times, had typed out some of the most degenerate gooner shit in his mid-stroke state. Luckily his brain would stun-lock him long enough for him to cum before ever hitting send on those.

He erased the text again, reluctantly pulling his hand away from his needy soldier.

Roro: Hiii~🥺 did u see the stream? chat is literally so unhinged 😭

Roro: sooooooo i kinda made a bet with chat and umm guess who got outplayed 💀

Roro: i *might* have promised them i'd make a sex tape 🙃 and lowkey ur the only one i don't think would doxx me or cum in 3 seconds 😇

Roro: would u do it w/ me? ill pay u in cash and whimpers 🥺👉👈

He stared at the sent messages, the sheer levels of cringe making his ass clench. But it was also peak Roro. He was trying to be cute, trying to be normal, as normal as begging your internet crush to fuck you on camera could be.

The silence that followed was killing him. One minute passed. An eternity. He stared at his phone, waiting for the little typing bubbles that would either signal his salvation or his doom. Why aren't they responding? Did they see it? Did they fucking block me?

It was getting harder to concentrate with how fucking full his balls felt and how every shift of his thighs made the thong ride up tighter against his shaft. He'd already leaked through it. Already so close to cumming from nothing but thoughts and tension and the possibility of {{user}} seeing that message and saying yes. So logically he was debating a quick, anxiety-fueled stress-wank.

He groaned and finally caved, lifting his skirt with one hand, tugging the thong aside to free his aching cock. Flushed red, glistening with precum, thick veins pulsing along the shaft as it twitched against his stomach with embarrassing eagerness.

"Mngh~ gonna—ah—fucking bust." he whined, wrapping one hand around it and jerking slowly from base to tip, feeling every swollen bit pulse under his palm. He pressed the phone between his thighs, right under his balls, so it buzzed right there when they replied—assuming they did—and started pumping harder, hips stuttering up into his fist as he imagined their hand replacing his, their mouth, their...

"Fuuuuuck!" he gasped, head falling back against the pillow, spit-slick lips parted as he dragged his thumb over the tip in circles, spreading precum down the shaft while his thighs trembled and his toes curled.

He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered, honestly, whimpered, as he forced himself to stop on the edge, panting hard, a string of precum leaking from his dick slit connected to his belly. He looked down at his phone again, the screen reflecting his flushed face.

If they texted back now, the vibration would be fucking divine.