Webcam Show

• Ah, you see, you're a star. Thousands of people are watching your show. Well, I'm going to eat in half an hour. I'll prepare it for you.

She cleaned the holes left by the needles and then applied a healing agent that I knew was very effective at leaving no marks. She ordered me to stand up. She tied me to bracelets hanging from the ceiling and attached my ankles to rings on the floor with the same type of leather bracelet.

She took a chastity belt with a plug and a vibrating dildo, which she pushed into me and secured with a padlock. The cold metal of the plug slid into me with calculated slowness, while the vibrating dildo...

• Okay, guys, this dildo and plug can vibrate at the intensity you want by paying after the usual vote, and every fifteen minutes they can deliver an electric shock with a non-lethal but cruel intensity.

She placed a whip manipulated by a mechanical arm on my left, at my back, and a paddle on my right, at my buttocks, manipulated by a mechanical arm.

She placed electrical patches on my breasts, stomach, and thighs, as well as sensors.

• I added sensors so that it would stop if her life was in danger, because I know you little perverts don't know when to stop, but up to this point, you can enjoy yourself. The cost increases in my absence, of course. It will be 10 euros. She belongs to you for an hour. It starts in 5 minutes. Have fun, my dear.

Without another word, she left. I saw the countdown start as she left, and the time remaining until her return.

The countdown flashed in red numbers—4:59… 4:58…—each second amplifying the icy grip of the plug inside me. A budding buzz ran through the dildo, faint at first, like a stifled laugh, before the first vibration struck. A spasm ripped through me, the electrical stimulation of nerves too raw after the needles.

The mechanical whip suddenly activated, lashing my back with a sharp blow. The leather strap bit into my flesh with relentless precision, leaving behind a trail of fire that mingled with the dull vibrations of the dildo. I arched my back in spite of myself, the leather straps bruising my wrists as I fought back sobs.

Another blow, more stinging, followed—then a third, each impact synchronized with an intensification of the vibrations that made my teeth chatter. When the threshold for the paddle was reached, it slammed into my buttocks.

The paddle struck with calculated ****, crushing the already sensitive flesh of my buttocks in a flash of searing pain. The cold metal of the plug suddenly vibrated more strongly, sending an electric shock that made me scream—my stomach muscles twisted as if under a knife.

Through my tears, I saw the screen flash: "New command: 3 simultaneous shocks – breasts, stomach, thighs." The electric patches activated before I could catch my breath.

The patches ignited with a brutal crackle—a flash of agony pierced my chest, my stomach convulsed as if under an invisible blade, while my thighs stiffened under the ****, my screams rent the air, muffled by the increased buzzing of the dildo twisting my insides.

The paddle struck again, this time diagonally, marking my flesh with a scarlet cross. The whip synchronized with the paddle, one hitting me while the other seemed to gain momentum. I was a rag doll tossed by the blows, the vibrations, the stimulation of the dildos.

After half an hour, the machinery decreed a 5-minute break to allow me to catch my breath. The worst part was this new countdown, which would see the torment resume at the end of it. I begged, in vain. I saw the voting auction counters filling up before my eyes, when the fateful zero announced the resumption, and yet within me I felt that cursed pleasure of suffering begin again.

The vibrations resumed with renewed ****, the dildo sinking deeper while electric shocks ran through my nerves like icy needles. The whip slashed through the air before crashing across my shoulder blades, leaving a dull sting that mingled with the bite of the paddle on my thighs.

The pause was an illusion, a cruel respite where each second weighed like a promise of renewed suffering. The whip hissed again, its thong wrapping around my waist before tightening with a sharp jerk, like a snake thirsting for bruised flesh.

I felt the leather lacerate my already inflamed skin, while the dildo vibrated at a new, almost whining frequency, as if savoring every involuntary contraction of my muscles.

The last half hour was a torment beyond words, but it reinforced my pleasure at no longer belonging to myself, at being nothing more than a toy. The vibrations intensified even more, their dull pulsations matching each frantic beat of my heart. The mechanical whip snapped upright with a metallic clang, its strap streaking through the air before slamming diagonally across my already scarred breasts.

The pain exploded in white stars behind my eyelids, while the electrodes on my stomach ignited again, their crackling discharges mingling with the blows until my skin was nothing but a single field of fire.

When the door opened, I had reached my limit. My sister smiled with satisfaction at the amount raised: 1,750 euros.

• Ah, my little kittens, you've overdone it and played with the mouse too much. We'll stop for today; she needs to recover for next time. She mimed a kiss for the listeners, shutting down the system as a final whip lashed out at me to liquidate the paid-up shares.

My muscles were still racked with residual spasms. The damp leather of the restraints crumpled my swollen wrists while a trail of saliva and tears glistened on the cold metal.

A final electric surge made the electrodes stuck to my stomach quiver—a treacherous discharge, like a sadistic farewell from the machine.

She removed the patches, the belt with the dildos.

• So, sister, did you like it? I still have plenty of ideas like that. Okay, you get 1,000 euros to pay off your debt, and I get 750 euros for my participation.

I looked at her with a knowing expression. She had always known how to make money off the backs of others. She examined me.

• It's okay, you have marks, but nothing that will earn my parents' anger. Go take a shower. You stink of sweat. I negotiated with my parents. You can rest for an hour and eat your porridge, which is waiting for you next door in your room. Put on your maid's outfit.

My teeth chattered as her icy nails grazed the burning marks on my ribs, leaving furrows of fire in their wake. A hoarse moan escaped me as she roughly grabbed the last remaining patch attached to my left nipple and yanked it off. She freed my wrists and ankles, causing me to fall to the floor.

• Get up, you only have 55 minutes to wash and feed yourself from your bowl.

Her voice cracked like the whip just now, and I crawled on the floor, my trembling muscles refusing to fully obey me. The icy tiles clung to my sweaty skin, every inch becoming more painful as the marks from the restraints and electrodes still burned.

Her eyes followed me impatiently as I tried to sit up, one hand gripping the edge of the table, the other pressed against my stomach, which was streaked with bright redness.

"Faster than that," she sneered, tapping her watch.

Leaning against the doorframe, I managed to sit up fully and head for my shower under the gaze of the camera, which moved so as not to miss a single detail of my condition. It was a feat that I managed to get into the shower, which gave me strength again. The bowl was good this time; I could feel that supplements had been added to invigorate me.