Or a throne

So it was: that Mark found himself nothing so much really as a prop for this candy-coloured creature’s latest broadcast. It was a very strange feeling… to have his exposed lower half the focus of three angled cameras and a lighting rig. The heat of the lamps was palpable, almost an analogue for all the eyes that were surely out there, somewhere, watching. Yet all of that only infinitely increased the focus of everything Lacey did down there. The lightest touch of her breath as she simply moved her lips past the over-sensitized head of his penis. The absent minded play of her fingernails upon it as she fiddled with the technical side of set up.

She was treating that flesh of him as if it was any other of the dildos and butt-plugs she had strewn all across this apartment, he was sure. A girl so used to idly playing with phallic objects that it didn’t even register to her any more as she bounced it against her cheek or rolled it’s foreskin back and forth.

“Hey guys! Look what I’ve got!” Was how she started her evening’s performance. “A special treat, just for little, ol’ me! You’ll have to tell me where you want it to end up, as we go along...”

Everything she did while in front of those lenses was a controlled and measured tease. Every slight movement an invitation towards something more… if some kind soul would just send a little more money beaming electronically in her direction. From this side of the arrangement, the play was all so obvious… but that didn’t make experiencing it any less alluring. Mark was kept in a constant state of twitching anticipation, watching this girl trap her thousands of followers again and again, using his own meat as bait. It was so far from the unrestrained nymphomania of Stacy. The pure, unfiltered need she had to shove you inside herself and milk everything you had as quickly as she could, as often as she could. This over-sexualised creature was in it for the long run… keeping the whole watching world just simmering on the edge of the next step up towards completion.

Eventually she did push him just slightly too far: earning a chuckling, surprise face full of sticky congratulations… But this just became part of the show. A new tool to utilise as she let the glistening trails of it dribble down her chin, chatting to her regulars as if a light covering of cum was hardly something to be distracted by. She flopped his deflated cock around, cradling like a fledgling chick fallen from its nest. Nibbling at and tickling under his ball sack while she whispered sweet nothings to strangers in faraway, dark rooms. Until there really was no option for the poor thing but to clamber back skyward, slowly moulded into stature by her ever-playful hands.

At that point, a change of pace was apparently unlocked. She clambered up and straddled him, sitting herself down upon his unprotected shaft as if it truly was just a handy new piece of furniture. Mark found himself buried to the hilt in only the second pussy he’d ever been invited into, though there was one more he had exited from. No warning or options had been given, not that he was likely to have refused. Lacey simply began playing videogames with her viewers, all the while bobbing up and down upon his lap. Those still-rolling cameras granting everyone who wished it an ample view of her frothing slit, gulping down upon his manhood. She increased her pace to bouncing fits of excitement, every time she got a kill… or settled in to careful, measured grinding as she focused on something. The young man acting as her throne had little choice but to lie back and let the experience wash over him, listening to her mindless, cutesy chatter. Wondering exactly where his life had become hazy, and entered what must most certainly be a dream.

An hour later, he was awakened from the fog… by a quick, grateful kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks so much for that, lovely… it worked out really well!”

The girl snuggled up to him sleepily, pulling her bright pink duvet over them both. Still half-dressed in some sort of cosplay lingerie and with drying stains upon her face and thighs.

“I’ll make you breakfast in the morning…” She yawned. “You’ll have to promise to come over some other time and help again…”

Then she wrapped herself around him and dropped straight off to sleep, leaving Mark staring up at a dark ceiling he didn’t recognise. This was definitely a dream.