This time the night dreams have passed you by... On Saturday morning you wake up...

For some reason, your sleep that night was relatively peaceful: you fell asleep quickly, and no long, absurd dreams troubled your consciousness as they had on some previous nights.

Of course, in your sleep, your tired mind briefly flashed various fleeting visual images, mostly related to the extensive list of porn videos, porn comics, and hentai you had previously watched.

However, this "kaleidoscope of visions" was short-lived.

You slept well that night...

When a ray of sunlight from the window hit your face, you woke up and immediately jumped out of bed.

Morning...

Around nine o'clock in the morning.

"Finally, the weekend! Today is Saturday!" - you exclaim joyfully, feeling a surge of energy and anticipating some positive news.

Without even washing or brushing your teeth, you shout:"Peter! What did he text you?"

"He" is obviously that rich donator-pervert who has **** you to wear that horrific metal, flat chastity cage on your poor little penis for almost a week now.

Your roommate mumbles something unintelligible in response.

You impatiently run toward the sound of his voice...

Ahem... Peter was just brushing his teeth in the bathroom...

Soon, he finished his hygiene routine and, in response to your impatient look, replied: "Donator sent a message. It seems this guy is meticulous... He's pleased that we're following the terms. But he believes the week-long deadline shouldn't be up until Sunday morning..."

Not today...

Until tomorrow morning...

Only then will you be able to remove that constricting metal device from your tiny cocklet.

Well, despite the slight disappointment, you still haven't lost your cheerful mood. You don't have long to wait...

Soon, you and your roommate are sitting down to breakfast at the kitchen table...

"Billy... I was a little... discouraged and surprised by your initiative during the stream yesterday... You used to be more modest..." - says Peter, blushing slightly (as if embarrassed by something).

And then you remember...

Yesterday evening...

The anticipation of your weewee's "liberation" seemed to "push to the back of your mind" all that dirty debauchery you committed yesterday...

And after your roommate's words today, one by one, fragments of yesterday's memories began to "float" to the surface of your "ocean of memory".

Passionate kisses with Peter...

Your subsequent "attack" on his defenseless anus...

"Tricks" with two dildos at once...

Sucking a big black dildo, which, by all appearances, you enjoyed...

And the stream's viewers witnessed absolutely all of this...

"Fuck... And I did all THIS yesterday on my own initiative?!" - you think in panic, as images of your slutty behavior from yesterday slowly appear in your head.

You feel yourself getting dizzy.

You almost drop your apple-jam-slathered toast on the floor.

Your face flushes with shame...

You ready to die of embarrassment.

Peter clearly notices your confusion and says: "Hm... Yeah, I was a little confused too... It was awkward... I don't know why you suddenly started acting so... uninhibited and casual... But the important thing is the result! During yesterday's stream, viewers donated almost twice as much as during the last one! That means we can buy you a new smartphone, Billy!"

As you listen to these phrases, your reaction to what's happening seems to slow down a little...

The dizziness intensifies...

Your roommate says he doesn't understand the reason for your change in behavior...

But you yourself seem to understand: the reason is the joint of weed you smoked yesterday.

The joint of weed that your new acquaintance, whose name I think was... gave you...

"What was his name? Quentin? Kurt? Shit... I can't remember..." - you think.

Maybe a little later you'll be able to remember that name...

"I won't tell Peter the truth... Truth about the real reason for my 'enthusiasm' yesterday... It's clearly better for him not to know about this..." - you think.

"Hey! Are you listening?" - Peter gently touches your shoulder.

"Yeah... Sorry, I'm a little distracted..." - you mumble.

"I said you could join me in today's stream, or you could do something else. For example: you could go shop for a new smartphone..." - Peter says.

"Do you want to start streaming again soon?" - you ask.

"Yes, because our financial problems haven't completely resolved. We'll have to stream more often, not just on weekends..." - your roommate replies.

For some reason, that phrase about "frequent streams" makes you feel a little uneasy...

Perhaps memories of yesterday are influencing...

So, what will you tell Peter now?

Will you be streaming with him again?

Or would you rather do something else?