Sub-a-thon!!

“Hey, thanks for the sub LongJohnSylvan! Great to have you with us again!”

Justin, better known to his viewers as Gaminx, turned away from his gameplay stream to look at his notifications as his subscription alert sounded. He grinned at the message that had been left for him. “And thanks for the birthday wishes! Super appreciated.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the chat starting to scroll up as several messages came in at once. He glanced over at it to read. “Oh, you’re right! That makes twenty!”

Justin was in high spirits. It was shortly after his eighteenth birthday, and life as a variety streamer was treating him better than he'd expected this early in his career. He knew he had a pretty good following for someone just starting out, and now he had the added bonus of being legally old enough to monetize his channel. Someday, he hoped, he might even get to the point where he could make a full living just streaming. He had gotten the idea to host a sub-a-thon to try and capitalize on his birthday-based change in status, and so far it was going way better than he had expected.

His online gaming streams averaged only about 18 viewers a session, but today they’d hit a record high of just over 50. He suspected the incentive emblazoned across the bottom of his screen probably had something to do with it.

“Okay... we did the hat at 10, so... sweatshirt this time!”

The banner at the bottom of Justin’s screen read, “For every 10 subs, I take off one piece of clothing.” It was mostly a joke; he’d intentionally worn a ridiculous number of layers—a hat, sweatshirt, shirt, undershirt, pants, leggings, underwear, and two pairs of socks—to ensure he was in no danger of actually showing anything risque on stream. But nevertheless, his chat seemed to be having a fun time with it; they always enjoyed teasing him about how much of a twink he was.

Shedding his sweatshirt and throwing it over the back of his chair, Justin resumed his seat and turned his attention back to the game of blackjack he was playing with his chat. “Okay guys,” he said, “same as before. Type “hit” to get a new card and “stay” if you think we should compare to the dealer.”

Opinions flooded the chat, and the bot he’d programmed automatically sifted through for the most common words, displaying a little poll graphic in the corner. Justin was particularly proud of that integration; if there was one thing that set him apart from other streamers, he thought, it was the technology he brought to the table. Programming was a hobby of his, and the stream was a great way to test the limits of what he could do.

As the poll settled on “hit,” there was another notification sound—this time the chorus of hunting bugles he had set up to let him know when a raid was coming in. Apparently another streamer had forwarded all their viewers to him at the end of their own stream. Justin smiled. He clicked the “hit” button on the blackjack game and watched as the next card flipped over. “Hey raiders!” he said. “With you in just a sec... My name is Gaminx, you can call me Minx if you want. We’re doing a sub-a-thon today to celebrate my 18th birthday last week, since I can monetize my channel, finally. Welcome to-”

He was cut off by a sudden cacophony of overlapping sounds that nearly busted his eardrums. Justin winced and hurriedly checked his settings. The mess of sound was so loud and so chaotic that it took him a few seconds to realize what was happening.

He had his system rigged up to automatically read the messages associated with any monetary donations using a text-to-speech voice. Normally it would read messages one at a time, even if two came in at once, but for some reason a huge number of messages were being read out at the same time, all overlapping and creating a hideous maelstrom of noise.

Face scrunched into a grimace, Justin flew to his donation settings and hurriedly upped the minimum donation required for a message to be read aloud to $100 as a stop-gap measure. This at least caused the insane overlapping mess of text-to-speech to trickle to a halt, giving him a second of peace to try to figure out what had happened.

“Sorry about that,” he said with a chagrined smile. “Looks like the...” he trailed off as he looked at his stats and suddenly realized just what he had missed. His eyes widened in a sort of horrified fascination. That hadn’t been just any raid that had come into his chat. BreadShaped, one of the most famous variety streamers on the planet, had sent him the audience from his latest session.

There were now over 8,000 people watching him stream.

Still gaping, his eyes scrolled over the other numbers on his display. He hadn’t heard his sub noise again because it had broken, just like the donation sound system. He’d just gotten over 300 new subscribers almost instantly, and the technology had not been able to keep up. His jaw dropped. “Uh- Uh, hey,” he managed, his throat suddenly dry.

“Hi Bread fans!” he said sheepishly. “Wow, I... I didn’t realize. Thank you so much! This is, uh... this is beyond crazy! Thank you! Thanks everyone! Wow, look at all those donations...”

Take it off.

Justin’s text-to-speech voice was a mild-mannered British accent, and it took him a second to realize what was being demanded of him.

“Oh! You mean- uh...” His brain short-circuited as he realized that in order for the text-to-speech to have gone off at all, that meant that someone had just dropped a hundred dollars on him just to say that. He laughed nervously.

“Yeah, I guess we did have an incentive for me to strip for subs, uh... I wasn’t really expecting...”

He had expected to have to take off two items of clothing, maybe five if he was really lucky. Not over thirty. Even with the most liberal definition of individual articles of clothing, he was not wearing that many layers. His chat was going crazy. Even though the sudden influx of viewers had triggered slow mode, meaning no one individual could chat more than once every thirty seconds, the messages were still flying by almost faster than he could read.

Not that he had to. His automated polling software picked up the two words that were overwhelmingly the most common and displayed them at the bottom as though people were voting between options. “Strip” and “naked” were almost evenly matched. Justin swallowed.

“Heh,” he said, his mind racing. Was there a way out of this? He had offered it as an incentive... “Well, I guess, if that’s what you guys really want...”

Self-consciously, Justin stood up from his chair and began to strip. What was he going to do? Showing genitalia on camera was definitely forbidden by the terms of service...

When he was down to his underwear, Justin turned around to take them off, facing himself away from the camera. He cupped both hands over his junk before turning around, at least managing that little bit of self-censorship.

“Well Chat, this what you wanted?” he asked, forcing a smile to hide how completely he’d lost control of the situation. He walked back up to the computer and sat down. At least his hips were low enough out of frame that he didn’t have to keep hiding his dick from view while he was seated. But he could see in the preview video that his face and neck were bright red with embarrassment.

He wasn’t ashamed of his body, particularly. But he was well aware that there wasn’t much to it: there was a reason his viewers always accused him of being a twink. He was slim and noodly and mostly hairless; most people mistook him for several years younger than he actually was. It wasn’t something he usually spent a lot of time thinking about, but suddenly he was uncomfortably aware of his appearance.

No fair we want to see your cute little dick, said the text-to-speech program as another donation came in. It was followed quickly on its heels by another: By my count you still owe us at least fifteen clothes. What are you going to do to make it up to us winky face.

“Guys,” Justin said, pacifying, “I can’t show you my dick, I’ll get demonetized. That would kind of defeat the whole purpose of having the sub-a-thon...”

His eyes were drawn to the chat, which was once again scrolling by almost too fast to read. He caught only glimpses of messages as they flew past:

LegoSmash: LAME!
Pinhead88: That’s cheating! Show us your hog!
AbleBrawler: no dick no subs
BabbleFish202: we wanna see your junk!
xxMontyHolexx: show it all
gRipper02: show it white boy
Elementallee: Show us your junk!
MrOmnomnod: Let us see your dick!
Elegeisha: Coward!!!
GTipTopperson: guys stop bothering him it’s fine
VocalFool: You owe us!
Lokwayshus: touch urself
SussBaby: we cant touch so let us look at least come on
LegitOgreStomper: im typing this onehanded his body is so hot

Justin raised a hand to his chest self-consciously. “Guys, please-” but the movement only set off another flurry of messages, this time demanding that he fondle himself. His hand had happened to land unintentionally right next to his nipple, and the chat had latched onto this fact immediately.

This was supposed to be a strip tease, came another text-to-speech donation message. Justin looked over at it, gulping. $300. If you’re not going to show us the goods, at least put on a good show.

Justin licked his lips. Uncertain, he reached his hand the last inch or so up to his nipple. “Like this?” he asked. He grabbed the nub between his fingers and tweaked it. He gasped; the sensation was much more pleasurable than he had expected. He wasn’t particularly experienced; he’d never done more than a little over-the-shirt groping with an ex-girlfriend. This was somewhat new territory for him. Losing a sense of himself for a moment, he pinched it again; the sensation sent little lightning ripples of pleasure straight to his groin. With a groan he grabbed the nipple harder and twisted it.

When he opened his eyes again—he hadn’t even noticed that he’d closed them—the chat was once again scrolling at a blazing pace, full of compliments and encouragement egging him on, demanding more. Another voiced donation message came in: I’m so glad I got sent here today. You are so cute. Show us more gay minx.

Biting his lip, Justin reached down into his lap. He was already half-hard. He’d never expected to feel like this, knowing so many people were watching him, hanging on his every motion.

Jerk yourself, ordered the text-to-speech.

Justin was helpless at the command, unable to refuse. He took himself in hand, just under the level visible to the camera, and began to stroke his dick. His audience would not be able to see his lap under the edge of the desk, but they could certainly tell from the angle and motion of his arm what he was doing.

With a moan, Justin started to jerk himself off with slow and steady strokes. It was a curious sensation, being at once alone in his room and yet aware that there were thousands of people watching him pleasure himself. As he tugged his cock, he watched the chat scroll by with half-lidded eyes, catching only a random glimpse of a message here and there:

CyberHeaven: Ooo, yeah, that’s it baby
MichaelTangelo: holy fuck yes
moominpop: Beat it!
1ShotRocket: we turning you on twink?
tokeDemon15: That’s our gay minx!
Eggselsior: thats one gay minx alright
Garrophalus: yes yes yes yes
Sarcastian: this is so fucking hot
Ligma_Stank: oh yea faster
GoGoNoNo: that’s it cum on
x_MonoLooker_x: what a champ
LikelyPi: That’s right pinch your nipple harder
Elementalist0: again again more nip!

Unable to stop himself from moaning, Justin continued to jerk himself off with one hand while the other played with his nipples, tweaking and fondling them and occasionally pinching them with a genuine ferocity. Each time he did, his dick twitched in his hand, begging for more.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, he was coming. Justin’s sperm shot from his cock and splashed upwards, taking him by surprise, splattering on his torso and chest in clear view of the camera. He gasped as a few droplets even made it up onto the underside of his chin.

For a moment he just sat there, panting, horrified with himself as he realized what he’d just done in front of a live audience. Despite the cheers and congratulations swamping his chat, Justin flushed with shame. How had he let things get so out of hand?

And then, another voiced message: I will donate ten thousand dollars if you finger your hole on camera.

Justin gaped. “No!” he finally spluttered once he found his voice again. “Guys- no! This has already gone way too far. I’m already risking demonetization real hard, I’m not doing something like that.”

Another message in response: If you get demonetized I will be your sugar daddy. Come on baby show us the goods.

“Guys...” Justin pleaded. But...

The thing was...

Ten thousand dollars was a lot of money, if that person was serious. Enough money to give up streaming for at least a while? Probably not, but...

Justin had never asked himself how much his own integrity was worth. Was there a price for which he’d do something like that? Would any amount of money be enough? He swallowed. Maybe there was a way he could compromise. Get the money, but not actually have to give up the goods, so to speak.

“Okay Chat,” he said, returning to his keyboard to change some settings on his donation tracker. “Here’s the deal. I’m only supposed to have another half hour or so left of the stream. If you all can raise... let’s say a hundred thousand dollars in donations in that time, then I’ll do it. When we hit that goal, I’ll finger myself on camera for however long is left before the stream ends. Sound fair?” As he said so, he hit the submit button on the new donation goal.

There was no way, he thought to himself. Even with all the small donations that had been flooding in so far, and the large ones that had come with the text-to-speech messages, the donation total was still under two thousand dollars. There was no way...

Bet? came the first message on a donation over $100.

Let’s do it. You promise, came the second.

Here we go.

For the hole fund.

Gonna see that hole princess.

I am excited to see how much your hole will like it.

Never underestimate a horny chat.

A hundred thousand? Easy.

Justin’s eyes widened as the donation bar steadily crept across the screen. There was the promised ten thousand, but it wasn’t the only huge amount. The funds were positively pouring in. He blinked and looked down at the viewership count. Somehow it had grown. There were over ten thousand people in the audience now.

Come on chat. If everyone donates ten dollars we can get there.

“Wait-” Justin abruptly realized he might have set the bar far too low.

We got this. Come on chat.

For the hole.

We’re gonna make you regret this one.

Come on baby. Already half way.

Justin goggled. It was true. The donation counter already read over fifty thousand, and it was still climbing.

With mounting horror, Justin watched as money streamed in, dollar after dollar, many accompanied by filthy or encouraging messages. Almost before he knew it, the counter hit the hundred-thousand mark that he had thought impossible.

There it is, came the first donation after the goal had been completely blown away in a matter of a few minutes. Hole time. Show us the goods slut.

“I...” What could he even do? If he just turned the stream off now, an audience worked up to this kind of froth would definitely report him. But was he really going to...? He swallowed.

“Fuck, okay, hang on...” Justin went into his settings and turned off the toggle that automatically saved his streams for posterity. He wanted this one to disappear as soon as he signed off. Then...

He stalled as long as he could, taking his time zooming the camera in on the bed that lay just behind his chair in the frame, moving slowly as he went to fetch lube for his task. But there was only so much he could do to put it off. Eventually he found himself lying on his back on the bottom half of his bed, legs spread and his ass pointed directly towards the camera.

“Here goes nothing, I guess,” he muttered to himself, and then louder for the benefit of the microphone hanging over his desk: “I hope this is what you wanted, Chat.”

So saying he lubed up his fingers and tentatively reached around under himself, nudging the very tip of his pointer finger against his anus.

He’d never done anything like this before. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but at least he was young enough to still be fairly flexible.

“You asked for this,” he reminded them, and then began to push his fingertip into the ring of muscle.

It gave more easily than he had expected; the lube provided a slick glide as the tip of his own finger slid easily into him. From the angle he was at he couldn’t get it very deep, but after straining hard, he managed to get it in up to the second knuckle.

And... now what? What was he supposed to do? Just stay like this for another twenty minutes? With some hesitation, he began to move the finger in and out, the feeling of the slide strangely pleasurable as he penetrated himself again and again.

That’s it bitch. He could still hear the text-to-speech messages from his speakers. They were far fewer now that the donation flood had slowed down, but they still punctuated his performance.

That’s a good slut

What a cute hole totally worth it

That’s a nice little bussy

Come on you can do better than that. More fingers.

Justin groaned and began to tease at the rim of his hole with a second finger. It felt better than he had expected. Feeling bold, he began to push the second one in beside the first, widening himself. It still felt shameful, to display himself like this, but at the same time it was turning him on like he’d never imagined. The strangely robotic voice reading the demands of his audience only made it hotter.

From his position on the bed, Justin was too far away to see the chat messages as they scrolled past, and so unfortunately he missed a rather vital exchange.

YellowSubmariner: Holy shit you guys his roommate is streaming right now
Aegis_4000: OMG KneesAndBros?
LMNOPness: KneesAndBros is streaming?
DoxxHound: omg yes!
LogicalHumanoid: quick someone go to his chat and tell him to check in on minx
OggleGoggle: Do you think he knows?
xo_Dopis_ox: we have to get him here
Teaktonic: oh yes he has to see this

Even if he’d been able to see the screen from his vantage, Justin was too lost in his own pleasure. The two slick fingers he was sliding in and out of his ass felt like they had taken on a mind of their own. He was dead focused on the feeling of penetration, the little stretch and the slick movement, the way it made every nerve in his pelvis tingle.

He heard the sound of his raid notification as his roommate’s chat entered his stream, but he didn’t pay it much heed. And so he was completely taken by surprise when, moments later, his bedroom door opened and his housemate, Tyler, stepped into the room.

“No wait-!” Justin barely managed to sputter, tripping over his own tongue and abruptly yanking his fingers out of his asshole to cover himself as best he could. “It’s- uh! It’s not what it... looks like?”

“Uh-huh?” Tyler said skeptically. “What is it then? I just caught the last few minutes of your stream, by the way.”

“Uh...” Justin couldn’t think of a convenient lie. If Tyler had seen the stream, there wasn’t much he could make in the way of excuses anyway. “Um... sub challenges?”

Tyler snorted. The young man was only slightly older than Justin, but physically he was everything Justin was not: tall, broad-shouldered, short-haired, dedicated to building muscle at the gym. They were fairly good friends after living together for four months, but Justin had always found him somewhat intimidating, if he was honest.

That feeling was only heightened as Tyler strode over to him, a sly grin on his face.

“If you’re gonna take donations, you gotta give the people what they want,” he said calmly, as though he hadn’t just caught Justin in the most compromising position imaginable. “Looked like you weren’t able to get your fingers that deep. Let me see if I can help.”

As he reached Justin, he grabbed the boy’s knees in each hand and spread them. “Grab your cheeks,” he ordered Justin. “Spread ‘em open as wide as you can, really show off the goods.”

Acting on auto-pilot, his brain empty of thought, Justin did as he was told, spreading himself open for the camera. While the lens feasted on a delightful close-up of his twitching hole, Tyler grabbed up the lube that Justin had brought and slicked up his own fingers.

Then he sat next to Justin on the bed.

“Here we go,” was all the warning Justin got before Tyler grabbed one of his legs to steady himself and brought his other hand down to Justin’s hole. Then, in full view of the camera’s eager gaze, he began to push his own finger up Justin’s ass.

Justin groaned helplessly. It felt much different, having someone else do it to him, compared to doing it himself. For one thing, Tyler was able to get much deeper, pushing his finger inside all the way up to the last knuckle. And for another, he had no way to predict exactly what was about to happen to him next. When Tyler immediately added a second finger, it took him completely by surprise as his ass was stretched open to accommodate it.

The text-to-speech messaging system was still on, and his audience let their approval be known.

Now that’s more like it

Oh yes take it all the way in look at that greedy little ass

What a hole it just wants more look at it twitching

Happy to say I was here

Suddenly, out of nowhere, pleasure pulsed through Justin’s body like a white-hot spike. His hips bucked upwards involuntarily as he cried out.

“Oops, I think we found something,” said Tyler, and ruthlessly pressed his finger down on the same spot again. Once again Justin’s hips bucked. Tyler chuckled. “Yeah, that’s the spot.”

What followed was the most delightful, pleasurable torment Justin had ever felt. He knew intellectually what a prostate was, but he’d never imagined it would feel so good to have someone touching it. He moaned and writhed on the bed as Tyler fucked him with three fingers, mercilessly attacking his sensitive area every time he drove them home.

He heard Tyler chuckle above him, and then abruptly the fingers were yanked out of him. Justin groaned at the loss, but it turned out Tyler had just gotten up to grab the webcam off the top of his monitor and bring it closer. He returned immediately, holding the camera in one hand and pointing it to give the best possible view of both Justin’s penetration and how hard he was getting from the attention.

“Look at this little slut,” Tyler said with something like fondness in his voice. “Chat, check out how turned on he’s getting just from having his hole played with.”

Justin blushed, but he had no chance to respond before Tyler’s fingers returned, all three at once, spearing into him again and resuming their ministrations, fingering his prostate with dedicated enthusiasm.

Justin groaned, piercingly aware of the gaze of the camera on him, of the thousands of eyes peering at him through the lens as they watched his hole getting stretched open again and again, witnessed it clearly making him harder than he’d ever been in his life.

What a whore, said the text-to-speech messages.

That hole was just begging to be filled

His ass wants it so bad. Good job Knees.

Now this is a show. Thanks for the entertainment.

Is he getting off from this? That’s so funny. What a slut.

Come on slut don’t keep us waiting

Justin couldn’t take it anymore. With a gasp, he came, his vision whiting out with pleasure, once again coating himself in his own cum. His hips were raised this time, so it splattered higher on his chest and neck, making a mess. He whimpered as his pelvis thrust involuntarily, Tyler’s fingers buried deep as deep as they could go inside him, stretching him open, pressed firmly against his prostate and milking him for all the pleasure he was worth.

And all the while the camera lovingly captured every last detail.

When the seemingly endless pulses of Justin’s orgasm finally subsided, he collapsed limp on the bed, almost insensate. His entire body felt exhausted, conquered. He barely registered Tyler’s fingers sliding back out of him as his roommate took the camera back to his desk.

Now fuck him, demanded the text-to-speech.

Penis next

How much do we have to donate to get him fucked?

“Sorry folks,” said Tyler with another chuckle, smiling for the camera. “But it’s time for stream to end. If you want to watch me fuck him, you’ll have to wait for the next sub-a-thon.” He laughed. “Maybe next time he’ll be the one subbing all stream instead of you guys, huh?” He threw up a little V with his fingers. “Peace out!”

And with that, he hit the button on Justin’s computer to begin the end-of-stream sequence, an end screen showing Justin’s credits that would display for around thirty seconds before automatically switching the stream off.

Behind the opaque image, the stream viewers were treated to a few more moments of somewhat muffled audio, just enough to hear Justin’s voice softly in the background:

“Thanks for- hey! Wait, that’s still really sensitive, don’t- ah- ah- aaaaaah!”

The voice dissolved into a startled moan of pleasure just as the feed ended.