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Jerma didn’t think this would ever happen to him. He’d been so beloved, so celebrated for years of streaming, and it all seemed to collapse out of nowhere. He hadn’t done anything but get older. His humour was still intact. His appearance still deceived his age. The greys on the edges of his hairline and scattered through his stubble suggested a man in his mid-thirties, not mid-forties.
Why did everyone hate him?
Sure, his chat used to be unkind about his looks, his smarts, his sense-of-humour (even though he knew they were laughing). But, now, it was something completely different. They were cruel, they were ruthless. The comments gave him that cold feeling in his chest, that crawling on his skin that made him want to curl up in bed and never interact with anyone ever again.
Several times, Jerma would threaten them with a permanent ban, but that wouldn’t stop them. The whole reason people tuned into his stream was to get banned. Because it was only Jerma’s channel. Who cared?
Jerma would cry after every stream. But he did streams because people paid to insult him, and, as long as he ignored what they were saying (which he rarely did), it was okay. Money was money. And attention was attention – even if it was negative.
People’s irrational hatred for him reached another level when things he’d done in the past that had once been overlooked and ignored turned into felonies in the public’s eye. Their hatred stretched out to the people in his life until they were driven out, leaving him alone, single and friendless.
He hit a new low when he broke down on stream. Drunk, not caring how he looked, not caring what people saw. Because it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did. The comment that had gotten to him wasn’t hate, but it tipped him over the edge.
‘What’s going on? Why’s everyone being so mean?’
A reminder that he’d done nothing wrong. He wished he’d done something horrific. He wished he’d murdered someone in cold blood. He wished he deserved the hate. He felt so hopeless. Like there was something inherently wrong with him. Like he was always meant to be hated.
“Please,” he sobbed at the camera lens, “tell me what I did wrong.”
Naturally, the chat of a few hundred people (as opposed to the tens of thousands of viewers he used to get) didn’t take his request seriously. They made more cruel jokes that just drove nails of ice-cold steel into every bone in Jerma’s body.
“What do you want from me?” He pleaded. “I’ll do anything. What do you want?”
‘Kys’
‘Stream your suicide’
‘die’
‘Get a real job old man’
He stared blankly at every message that popped up. And he thought about it. Of course, he’d considered suicide before, but he hadn’t thought about doing it for everyone to see. Was that what they wanted? He didn’t know anymore. He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t anymore. He didn’t know what were jokes anymore.
‘srsly just quit at this point’
‘Wait, why is he crying?’
Jerma took three more big gulps of the whiskey on his desk, and leaned back in his chair. He stared at the chat-box still, but he was too drunk to read from where he was.
“You guys want me gone that bad?” Jerma said flatly. Tears still poured down his cheeks, but he couldn’t feel anything anymore. “Okay.” He stuck up a finger. “One last stream. Then, I’m gone for good. I’ll make sure of it.”
He ended the stream without another word.
That night, he wet his mattress with tears and snot. He didn’t use a pillow for his head anymore despite how his back ached every morning. He needed both to hug and throw a leg over, to pretend he still had someone to hold at night.
He did need to stop streaming. He needed it for himself and everyone else that was sick of seeing his face and name. But he wasn’t just going quit and go MIA without another word. He’d been streaming for over fifteen years. And, for fuck’s sake, he was Jerma985. He would go out with a bang, or he wouldn’t go out at all.
--
Jerma: hey ludwig! i know we haven’t spoken in a while but would you mind coming to vegas to help me out with my last stream
There was no response. Jerma wasn’t expecting a response right away, but he didn’t have enough dignity to stop himself from bugging him until he gave in, and answered.
For now, he waited a few days. He watched Ludwig’s streams, and fantasised about how brilliant he would be for the role. If it was what people wanted to see years ago, then surely at least a few people still wanted to see it, right?
Five days later, Jerma messaged again: whenever youre free let me know. i can pay for your flight here if you don’t wanna drive. it’s no problem
There was still no response. Jerma knew he was ignoring the messages. He wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t even upset either. Whether it took weeks or months, Jerma would not stop harassing him.
The following day, he said: it’ll be fun
A few hours later, he added: i promise
The next morning, he continued: hey ludwig
Then, again, four hours later: lud
Two hours later, he said: ill pay you
Jerma left it at that. He went out to buy himself more booze, and spent the rest of the day drinking on his couch and playing games on his iPad until he passed out on a mixture of alcohol and prescription opioids for his chronic pain, drooling all over the couch cushions.
The first thing he did when he woke up was check Discord. For the first time in what felt like years, he grinned.
At nine p.m. last night, Ludwig replied: idk man. i’ve been pretty busy lately.
It wasn’t ideal, but Jerma didn’t expect him to agree at first. Waste his precious time on Jerma? Not a chance.
Jerma answered: whenever your free i said
Jerma: i can wait
An hour or two later, Ludwig messaged: idk when i’ll be free. don’t wait for me. i’m sure you can find someone else
Jerma: no it has to be you
Ludwig: i don’t think i can
Jerma: itll be fun
Jerma: i’m gonna get myself banned off twitch and you’re gonna help
Ludwig: how’re you gonna do that?
Jerma: i’ll tell you when you get here
Ludwig: why do you need me
Jerma: you’ll see
Jerma: so you’ll come?
Ludwig: okay
Ludwig: just don’t kill yourself or anything
Jerma: if i was doing that i wouldn’t need you
Jerma: when are you free?
Ludwig: this weekend
--
Jerma had a few days to clean up before Ludwig arrived, but he never got around to it. Depression and ADHD didn’t mix very well. It wasn’t only messy – it was dirty. As long as Ludwig didn’t enter the kitchen, he wouldn’t see the concerning number of fruit-flies swarming the rotting fruit. Jerma thought he might have a few cockroaches too, but the mess was so grand that there were a lot of places for bugs to hide.
Ludwig’s eyes swept over the dirty plates, empty cans of beer and soda, glass bottles lined up on the coffee table. He was trying not to show anything on his face, but Jerma could see it. The shock, the disgust.
The only thing Jerma had managed to clean up in the past few days was himself – face shaved, new haircut. He had to look good for his last stream, so the rest of his house didn’t really matter. And he did look good. He felt pretty good too. Seeing Ludwig again brightened his mood a bit.
Jerma brought Ludwig to his office, and sat himself down on his chair, swaying it from side to side.
“Have you been drinking?” Ludwig asked.
“I’m always drinking,” Jerma replied.
Ludwig’s brows tilted like he was looking at an abused dog on one of those animal-rescue programs. “You don’t usually drink this often.”
“No, I didn’t before,” Jerma said with a thin, bitter smile. “But things change, Ludwig. Things changed for you too. Look how well you’re doing.”
Ludwig swallowed down the guilty lump in his throat.
He had always cared about Jerma. He still did. But, last time he tried to do anything publicly with him, he’d received an insane amount of hate. In the end, he’d stopped talking to Jerma for business reasons more than anything else. He had to protect his own image. But he didn’t think Jerma had gotten this bad.
“So, what’s the plan?” Ludwig asked. “If I don’t wanna do it, we could just – you know – hang out or something?”
“You don’t have to be polite,” Jerma smiled. It still wasn’t reaching his eyes. His sunken, dark, bagged eyes.
“No, I mean it,” he insisted. “We can hang out after the stream too if you’re up for it.”
“I’m not any fun to be around anymore,” Jerma said. “Anyway, the plan.”
Ludwig looked around for another chair for him, but didn’t see any.
“I’ve got a bunch of rope in there.” Jerma nodded to a cardboard box in the corner of the room. “I thought it’d be fun if you followed a Shibari tutorial on me.”
“Shibari?” Ludwig echoed in bemusement. “As in bondage?”
Jerma nodded with a nonchalant expression that made Ludwig wonder if he knew what he was talking about. He was usually so squeamish about this topic. But, as he’d said earlier, things change.
“Yeah,” Ludwig said hesitantly, “sure.”
“Cool,” Jerma said.
“I don’t know if that’s really something that’ll get you banned,” Ludwig pointed out. “Just ‘cause—‘cause you said that’s what you wanted to do.”
“Depends what you wanna do with me after you’ve tied me up,” Jerma said, flicking his eyes indicatively over to the bottle of lube Ludwig hadn’t originally noticed sitting on his desk.
Ludwig stared dumbly for a few moments before he caught himself, shutting his hanging jaw. He swallowed, and nodded. Evidently, he was speechless. He wasn’t even considering whether he, himself, wanted to do a porn stream. He was purely in shock that Jerma wanted to.
Jerma spun round in his chair to face his desk. “So, you’re down?”
“Sure,” Ludwig replied.
As Jerma set everything up on his desktop, Ludwig moved cautiously to the box in the corner as if some rabid animal would jump out, and bite him. He peered into it. Then, slowly bent over to rummage through the ropes, trying to work out whether it was a really long rope or several.
“I’m gonna go put in contact lenses,” Jerma said, getting up from his chair. “I’ll be back in a second.”
“Okay.”
Once Jerma was gone, Ludwig made his way over to his chair, and took a seat. The pre-stream chat was open on Jerma’s screen. Last time he’d seen it, it had been full of people, chatting with each other, telling Jerma he was late. But it was empty and deserted, and ripped pain across Ludwig’s chest.
He should have done something. Maybe, if he’d done something, the world wouldn’t have turned on Jerma for nothing. He was angry at himself, and he was angry at everyone else for leaving Jerma as well. Ludwig couldn’t help but think ‘It should have been me’.
Ludwig spotted a message pop up in the chat.
‘Does he really think anyone cares?’
Ludwig stared at it sadly, but he was quickly snapped out of it when he heard a noise from nearby room. A strange squeal. He just frowned at the door. Then, another, sharper yelp, and Ludwig realised it was just Jerma being odd. Being himself. Ludwig smiled at the notion.
Things had changed so much with Jerma from what Ludwig had seen. It was no surprise that no one wanted to watch his streams anymore. After the onslaught of relentless hatred had hit him, he predictably became depressed. He didn’t smile, he didn’t joke. He did nothing but play videogames and beg his chat to stop being so brutal.
Ludwig had thought that Jerma was changed for good – his entire personality flipped and drained of life. But just hearing him now, just hearing that confusingly strange side of Jerma, made Ludwig feel that he could heal from this and start over, and, God, Ludwig didn’t want to leave him this time.
Another yelp from the bathroom, and Ludwig was in hysterics. He laughed like what he was hearing was the most hilarious thing he’d ever heard in his life. It really wasn’t that funny, but he was so, so happy.
A few moments later, Jerma was back. He faltered at the sight of Ludwig’s giggling, and asked, “What’s so funny?”
Ludwig shook his head, wiping the tears from his eyes. It wasn’t crying with laughter – it was crying and laughing. But Jerma didn’t have to know. He didn’t have to know that Ludwig felt so fucking sorry for him that he was on the verge of breaking down.
“Why were you screaming like that?” Ludwig asked, voice thick and wet.
“I was—putting in contacts is scary,” Jerma said. “I don’t like poking my eye.”
Ludwig laughed again, and sniffled.
Jerma smiled faintly at him. It may have seemed cruel, but he liked to see the way Ludwig had lost his youthful appearance over the last few years. The crow’s-feet at the corner of his eyes when he laughed. The lines across his forehead when he raised his brows. And, somehow, now, their difference in ages didn’t feel as vast as it used to.
“Should I tweet?” Ludwig asked. “To get more people to watch. Or do you want a small audience?”
“The bigger the better,” Jerma said. “So, please, if you’re okay with that.”
Ludwig took out his phone. As he typed out his tweet, Jerma braced his hands on his desk, hip brushing Ludwig’s arm, to look at the pre-stream chat. It was getting a little livelier. There were a lot more people talking than there would be nowadays – but nowhere near the amount he used to have.
Ludwig found himself having a hard time concentrating when he could feel Jerma’s body-heat. He hadn’t felt like this about Jerma in a long time. The little crush he’d had had slowly faded with time and with a lot of repression. But it was back with fury. Maybe, because he hadn’t seen him in a while. Maybe, because of the grey hairs creeping down Jerma’s temples. Or, maybe, just because he knew he was going to get to do what he’d wanted so badly back then.
Once he’d posted the tweet, Ludwig got up, and let Jerma sit instead. Jerma picked up a half-finished bottle of whiskey from the desk, took a few gulps, and offered it to Ludwig, who accepted it. He thought he may as well. This was a first time for him – doing a cam-show on Twitch – so he reckoned he needed the Dutch courage.
Jerma had started the stream before Ludwig was ready. He didn’t even notice until Jerma was wheeling back on his office chair. No ‘Stream In Orbit Soon’ screen. No warning – just Jerma in the centre of the room.
It was eerily similar to something one would see on LiveLeak, sitting under yellow-tinted light in an empty room. So, it wasn’t much of a surprise when the majority of the chat was panicking that he really was going to kill himself.
“You’re all eating your words now, huh?” Jerma laughed. “You guys were all telling me to shoot myself last stream, and now you’re fucking crying for me not to?” He rested his elbows on the armrests. “I’m not gonna kill myself.”
Ludwig decided to reassure the frightened chat by stepping into the shot so that the scene looked a little less ominous.
“He’s gonna do it for me,” Jerma said.
Ludwig just laughed.
“No, I’ve got a fun little arts and crafts project for Ludwig,” Jerma said, eyes flicking over the chat. “Is this my last stream? Yes, it is.” He chewed on his lips. “Yeah. No more Jerma985. No more streams. So, you guys don’t have to see my ugly face ever again.”
Ludwig stood beside him wordlessly, hands in his pockets. He felt more like a decoration right now than anything else. He had nothing to say. He wanted to berate the chat for their cruel remarks that Jerma was just ignoring at this stage, but he didn’t have the right to. Not after he’d left Jerma alone for this long.
Jerma laughed loudly all of a sudden, and quoted another comment, “’Is the project that he’s going to cut you open and paint with your insides, you worthless fuck?’” He cackled again. “No. But that’s a good idea.”
Ludwig strolled over to the box, and, off camera, picked out a rope, untangling it from the rest. He returned to brandish it to the viewers.
Jerma gestured to him. “I thought it’d be a bit of fun to get Ludwig to follow a – what’s it called?” He squinted at the monitor with the YouTube video open. “The Dragonfly Harness. Tutorial video. It’s – like – a Shibari thing. I knew you guys would’ve been into it before. I don’t know about now, but I’m doing it now.”
The chat was mixed, but this was the most positivity he’d seen in it in a long time. It was fifty-fifty as opposed to ninety-ten, and that was on a good day. However, the negative comments he was receiving were kindling a sickeningly warm feeling in his stomach. They excited him.
‘Perverted old man’
‘Sick fuck’
‘That’s gross’
Jerma got off his chair to stand beside Ludwig, and shoved his chair to roll off to the edge of the room.
Ludwig frowned over at the picture of what the Dragonfly Harness was supposed to look like in the thumbnail to assess how he was going to go about doing this. Then, he looked back at Jerma in his T-shirt that had gotten a little looser at the arms and tighter at the stomach. It would be easier to tie this without the T-shirt, right?
“Wow, over a thousand people here,” Jerma said.
Ludwig stepped in behind him, and took the hem of his top, sliding it up without asking.
Jerma only reacted by raising his arms as he continued to speak, “It’s been a while since I saw that number. You’re probably here from Ludwig’s tweet. What’d you say?”
Ludwig tossed the T-shirt on the ground as his eyes roamed unwaveringly down Jerma’s body. “Something along the lines of ‘tying up Jerma live right now on Twitch’.”
He wanted to reach out, and touch him. He wanted to feel the heat of his skin, and the curve of his waist. He wanted to fondle and grope him until his face was flushed and his breaths were short and quick. But there would be time for that later.
He was impatient to get started, so he wandered over to the computer to watch the start of the tutorial while Jerma talked.
“Fat?” Jerma read out from the chat. He turned to the side, pressing fingers into his protruding belly. “Yeah, I’m a forty-five-year-old alcoholic. I’d like to see you look better.”
Ludwig glanced over his shoulder at him. Maybe, it was a good thing that he was aware of his problem, but the way he casually, shamelessly admitted it to it made it seem like he had no desire to fix it.
“I still look good for forty-five,” Jerma said, poking and prodding at his own body as if this was his first time seeing it. “Don’t I, Ludwig?”
Ludwig was so busy fiddling with the complicated knot that he’d attempted four times already that he hadn’t been listening to what Jerma said, and responded with an absent-minded “Huh?”
“I look good, don’t I?” Jerma repeated.
Ludwig finally got a hand of the knot. The Fireman Cuff creating two loops that he was to slide onto Jerma’s shoulders. “Better than good. You look hot.”
Jerma smiled at Ludwig as he came back to stand behind him. “Thank you.”
Ludwig tightened the loops around Jerma’s shoulders, pulling them back. Jerma was staring wordlessly at his monitor, and Ludwig wasn’t sure if he was reading chat or checking himself out. Ludwig, himself, was reading the chat. The flood of messages, so fast it was difficult to read them all. They were mostly insulting Jerma, but Ludwig had a suspicion that Jerma didn’t dislike them.
“They’re asking what the Dragonfly Harness is,” Ludwig pointed out, going back to the YouTube video to see the next steps.
As Ludwig watched, Jerma said, “So, essentially, the rope wrapped around by arms, and pulls them together behind my back, so I can’t use my hands.”
Ludwig went back behind him in silence to continue the tie.
“I heard that it’s good for your shoulders, and my posture’s been getting really bad lately. It’s been really fucking up my back,” Jerma said.
Ludwig made another Fireman’s Cuff, and secured the ‘cuffs’ around Jerma’s biceps, pulling them firm but not too tight.
Jerma sighed deeply, tipping his head back. “That feels nice.”
The rest of the harness was repetitions of the second step all the way down the arms, so Ludwig didn’t have to watch the rest of the video. He looked at Jerma’s hands as he tied him. Forced behind his back, it almost looked as though he were reaching back for Ludwig. His fingers were so close to Ludwig’s thighs, and the further down the arms Ludwig tied, the closer they inched towards him.
“It feels like a posture-corrector brace,” Jerma said.
When Ludwig tied Jerma’s wrists, his fingertips just bared grazed Ludwig’s thigh, but, to Ludwig’s disappointment, Jerma curled his fingers away.
‘Come on, and touch me,’ Ludwig wanted to say. ‘Don’t make me way any longer.’
“’That’s gross’, ‘dude, what the fuck am I watching?’, ‘This is fucked up’,” Jerma read off the screen. “Then, why are you still watching?” His voice was soft with an edge of coldness that made Ludwig’s neck feel hot. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it, you sick fucks. I’m giving you want you want.”
“All done,” Ludwig said, turning Jerma around by the shoulders. “How’d I do guys?”
Despite the fact that he asked the chat a question, he wasn’t looking at the screen. Eyes shamelessly admiring Jerma’s face. Jerma didn’t raise his head – he just gazed up at Ludwig from under his lashes.
Ludwig’s hands found Jerma’s waist by themselves. His hot skin. It was soft under the rubbing of Ludwig’s thumbs. He tilted his head, leaned in, and Jerma turned to the side, rejecting the kiss.
“How’d he do, guys?” Jerma asked, facing the computer again.
Not unsurprisingly, the chat was not talking about the Shibari harness, or how good of a job Ludwig had done on it. It was flooded with comments about how Jerma’s ass looked in the trackies he was wearing.
He smiled at them. It was just like it used to be. They were sexualising him, objectifying, just like they used to. But they were viler now. Despicable, depraved creatures sending comment after comment with no moderators to stop them.
“What else?” Jerma said. “Any suggestions on what to do next? I have lots more rope.”
Ludwig pressed himself against Jerma’s back, burying his face in his shoulder, and slid his hands up Jerma’s stomach.
“’A noose’.” Jerma laughed. “We’re not doing a noose. It’s a Shibari stream.”
Ludwig’s fingers barely brushed off his nipples, and Jerma jumped slightly, breath catching in his throat. He was either extremely sensitive, or already a little riled up, and Ludwig didn’t know which truth he’d prefer.
Lifting his face to watch Jerma’s reaction in the computer monitor, Ludwig rubbed his thumb over Jerma’s nipples again. He doubled over, moaning outright. It was lewd. It was downright porn less than half an hour into the stream.
Jerma’s knees bent, thighs squirming. His hands pushed at Ludwig’s thighs. He laughed, high-pitched and whiny. Amused by the way he was degrading himself in front of thousands of viewers, amused by how low he’d sunk.
“Fuck,” Jerma cried, shoulders squirming, writhing against the bonds.
“Come on, stand up straight,” Ludwig said.
Jerma’s head hung forward, hair falling into his face.
“Be a man. Stand up straight,” Ludwig chuckled.
“I can’t,” Jerma laughed out hysterically. He sounded out of his mind. He was out of his mind.
Ludwig ran a hand to his throat, and hauled him back up against his chest. Jerma looked at himself in the monitor, pushing his tongue into his cheek. He watched himself twitch and writhe, watched his arms struggle, ropes digging into his flesh.
“Is this what you guys wanted to see?” Ludwig asked as Jerma’s head smacked back against his collarbone. “Is this what you’ve been begging to see?”
Jerma’s head rolled on Ludwig’s shoulder, lips just barely grazing his earlobe. He whispered, “Choke me. Until my lips go blue.”
Ludwig felt dizzy. Every sickening fantasy he’d had about Jerma years ago – the ones that made him feel guilty just looking at him afterwards – were rushing back to him. He finally had his hands on Jerma. He could finally hear Jerma’s pleasure. And he had to share with thousands of other people. Whatever.
“’Choke you’?” Ludwig announced to the viewers, fingers slowly tightening where they were. “We have four thousand people here now. When we get to five thousand, I’ll stop choking him, okay?” His hand clenched tightly, and Jerma’s eyes rolled in ecstasy. “So, if you guys really wanna kill him, you’ll get what you want if you just turn off the stream.”
Jerma could barely hold himself up. His hands gripped at Ludwig’s thighs in a desperate attempt to brace himself on something. He didn’t know if the ostracization and hatred had turned his brain sick, or if he’d always been like this. Getting off on the idea of being murdered in front of thousands. Further getting off on the idea of having his corpse used until he had rotted beyond recognition.
“Wow, the number’s flying up,” Jerma heard Ludwig say over the ringing in his ears. “You guys are all fucking talk, huh? You tell him to die, but you’re too pussy to let him.”
Ludwig’s hand pulled off Jerma’s neck the moment the number of viewers hit his target. It wasn’t enough for Jerma. He was doubled over, coughing up stringy spit onto his carpet. Ludwig had to hold the ropes to keep Jerma from collapsing onto his knees. But it wasn’t enough. Jerma wanted to shock the viewers. He didn’t just want to have mildly kinky sex with Ludwig on Twitch. He wanted to make it bad. He wanted to make it hard to watch. He wanted to hear all about how disgraceful the final Jerma stream was.
Ludwig yanked Jerma up by the ropes, and pointed to the camera. Jerma looked into the lens obediently.
“’He’s hard’,” Ludwig read out. “Yes, he is.” His hand grabbed Jerma through his trousers. “What, are you surprised? You thought his dick was already broken?”
Jerma already felt like a wreck. He checked himself out in the monitor. The way his chest was heaving. The bulge in his trackies to evident and lewd. Maybe, he should’ve worn jeans, but, then again, this was what he wanted.
“’Show penis’?” Ludwig read. “’Whip it out’, ‘let us see already’.”
He slipped his thumbs under Jerma’s waistband, and, when Jerma nodded a ‘go ahead’, he inched them down slowly. He felt like a camboy, cocky and teasing, as he watched the chat go crazy. Begging him to hurry. Begging to get one look. It wasn’t much different to how it used to be.
Jerma was soaking up the positive attention. Head tipped back. Tongue tucked into his cheek.
Ludwig was almost as riled up as the chat was. He felt his mouth salivating as the sparse hairs below Jerma’s bellybutton thickened, the crooks of his hips just about poking up above the waistband.
So, when Jerma said, “That’s enough,” it took a lot of willpower to take his hands off the trousers, and rest them on his hips instead.
“Good boy,” Jerma said.
Ludwig’s breath came out shaky. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish gasping for water, trying to speak, until he noticed the cocky smirk on Jerma’s lips, and he found his voice. “You asshole.”
Jerma giggled. “What?”
“You know what you’re doing,” Ludwig replied darkly.
“Could you go get my drink from the desk?” Jerma said, jerking his chin to said bottle.
Ludwig went to get it.
“Adda boy,” Jerma said.
“Thin ice.”
He grinned, shaking his hair out of his face.
Ludwig brought the bottle to Jerma. “You want me to pour it into your mouth?”
He opened his mouth, and tipped back his head. Ludwig pressed his fingers to Jerma’s jaw to keep his head still as he poured. He enjoyed watching Jerma’s throat work, gulping down the whiskey, until he shook his head, and made a small noise to get his attention.
“No, fuck you,” Ludwig said. “If you get to be a dick, so do I.” He righted the bottle briefly. “Get down on your knees.”
Jerma knelt, and, despite the burn in his throat, despite the churn of his stomach, he tipped his head back for more. Ludwig was tilting the bottle too much, pouring too fast. Jerma wouldn’t be able to keep up with it if it was water, let alone spirit.
“Finish the bottle,” Ludwig hummed. “That’s it.”
It overflowed in his mouth. Dribbled down his chin and neck, down to his chest. But he gulped as much as he could. The position was humiliating, the way he was spilling it was humiliating, the fact that everyone was watching him do this was humiliating. It felt so good that Jerma wanted to touch himself, but Jerma’s crotch wasn’t in shot. He wanted them to see it.
He was so busy trying to swallow back the liquor that he almost didn’t notice Ludwig undoing his jeans with his free hand as he emptied the bottle.
“Since you’re down here anyway,” Ludwig said, tossing the bottle aside. It thudded to the carpeted floor.
He didn’t give Jerma a chance to catch his breath before he was slipping his cock into his welcoming mouth. Down his throat. Jerma’s stomach wasn’t handling the volume of whiskey very well, so the slightest touch to his throat sent the alcohol right back where it came from. His stomach was relieved to have an excuse to get rid of it.
Ludwig didn’t stop – he didn’t even falter – as Jerma spluttered and coughed up what he’d just drunk. He ignored the vomit spurting out of corners of Jerma’s lips, the tears and snot running down his face. Jerma didn’t tell him to stop anyway. He could pull back or turn away if he wanted to, but he leaned into it. Relishing in the disgusting burn in his nose from his vomit having nowhere else to escape through.
Ludwig turned to read the chat. Mostly, to distract himself so that he wouldn’t cum too soon. Partly, to inform Jerma on how his ‘fans’ were enjoying the show.
Most of them were reacting in pure disgust and shock. Sure, watching someone vomit on someone else’s cock wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. But, nonetheless, the number had doubled to ten thousand viewers. Perhaps, out of morbid curiosity. Perhaps, out of secret delight and arousal.
“Have you ever sucked dick before, Jerma?” Ludwig pulled him back by his hair.
Jerma coughed and spluttered and caught his breath until he could speak, voice rough and hoarse. “Like – twenty years ago.”
Ludwig hoisted Jerma onto his feet by the ropes behind his back. “Tell us about it.”
“Oh, some of you guys might know who I’m talking about,” Jerma chuckled.
Ludwig’s hand slipped into Jerma’s trackies. He wanted to feel him first before anyone else got to see it. He was greedy. He didn’t want to share, but, at the same time, he wanted to show off what he could put his hands on. What he had and they didn’t. Like a child.
“I was going to Pax East with a friend of mine,” Jerma started. “We were—ah!” His knees almost buckled as Ludwig hand ran up his dick. “We were sharing a hotel room.” He tipped his head back, panting softly.
“Mhm?” Ludwig encouraged.
He had his chin on Jerma’s shoulder, watching his hand move under the fabric. From the small gap between the waistband and Jerma’s stomach, he could just about see the base of his cock, and it was driving him crazy.
“We were watching something on the TV. Fucking – I don’t even remember what.” Jerma’s voice was shaking. Barely able to speak just from having his cock stroked. “He kept touching me, and – I don’t know – I guess it riled me up. I was fully sober, and I didn’t think anything of it. I just—I just did it.”
“Did he initiate it, or did you just go down on him?” Ludwig asked, speeding up his hand. He wasn’t sure if anyone was listening to Jerma because the chat was just begging to see Jerma’s cock.
“I don’t remember,” Jerma said. “It was a long time ago, and I was caught up in the moment.”
“Did it feel good?” Ludwig went on. “Did you like having a cock down your throat? Did you get off on it?”
Jerma bit down on his bottom lip, giggling teasingly, as he watched the chat. Between the pleas for one peek at his cock, people were guessing correctly. They were saying they’d known all along. It had been so obvious.
“Huh?” Ludwig encouraged. “Did you like it?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jerma said. “It felt good. Tasted so good too. I wanted to—to ask him if I could—fuck, Ludwig. Slow down.”
“You wanted to ask him if you could suck him off again?” Ludwig asked. “Not even if he could suck you off?”
Jerma felt dizzy. He couldn’t hold himself up, leaning back on Ludwig for support. “I like—I like things in my – mouth.”
Ludwig wanted to give Jerma what he really wanted, but he knew he’d cum too fast if he did, and he wanted to fuck Jerma. He needed to. He didn’t know how long he’d last inside him, but he’d try his best.
Instead, he slipped his fingers past Jerma’s parted lips, and Jerma’s tongue moved against them like a reflex. He groaned deep in his chest. A raw, visceral reaction. Ludwig shoved him forward to the camera, holding his face up to it. He showed off all the drool and snot and tears. His red eyes and his swollen lips and his tongue running hungrily over Ludwig’s fingers.
“I feel like you guys aren’t even trying to get him banned,” Ludwig said. “That’s what he wants, you know. Come on, guys, report the stream. See those three dots beside the share button? To be honest, judging by how fast the number of viewers is growing, I think you’re mis-clicking.”
Jerma’s eyes flicked between the camera and his display, unsure whether he should watch himself or look at the people themselves.
“This is fucked up. Look at him.” Ludwig forced his fingers a little deeper, earning a weak gag. “He’s a sick fuck for doing this.”
Jerma whined.
“I’m telling you how fucked up he is, and you’re still begging to see his cock,” Ludwig laughed, pulling Jerma back from the camera to let them see his body again. “Okay, if you want it that bad.”
Jerma lip was between his teeth. His eyebrows were pinched as he hungrily watched Ludwig inch down his trackies. He whined when the fabric rubbed off his sensitive cock.
Ludwig admired Jerma’s body on the computer screen, observed the way his own hands wandered along Jerma’s skin. Over his stomach, his thighs. Around his hips to grope at his ass. The corners of Jerma’s mouth quirked contentedly.
“How do I look?” He asked breathily, tucking in his chin in an almost coy manner.
The chat was mixed.
‘Gross’
‘Hot’
‘Okay, big boy’
‘Old’
‘Fat’
‘You look sexy, Jerma’
‘This is disgusting’
‘This is so hot’
Every single comment – positive and negative – went straight to his cock. He wanted to beg for more. The dopamine rush of immediate feedback that he’d been lacking for so long. He wanted to hear more about what a sick fuck he was, how he got away with it because he was hot.
“Ludwig, touch me,” he pleaded.
“Considering the way you’re twitching right now, I think you might cum as soon as I do,” Ludwig said. “Do you think there’s, like, a cock-ring kind of tie?”
“No, please,” Jerma whined as Ludwig went to the computer. “Let me cum. You can still fuck me. You can use me for whatever. I’ll let you do anything.”
“You’ll let me do anything regardless,” Ludwig said, leaning over the keyboard.
Jerma’s arms squirmed restlessly in the ropes. He shifted from foot to foot. The chat was swarmed. The viewer numbers were still flying up. Jerma felt high. It had been so long since he’d gotten all this attention. He couldn’t get enough of it. Soaking it all up, relishing in it. This would be the last time he’d ever get attention on this platform. But he would always be known as the insane Twitch streamer who did a porn stream, and Ludwig would always be known as the one that helped.
A message caught Jerma’s eye, and he laughed before reading it aloud, “’Come on, Ludwig. Let him cum. I have work in five hours, and I haven’t slept’. Go to sleep. I’m sure the VOD will be up on PornHub at some point.”
“Go to sleep now, and you might wake up to Jerma screaming my name,” Ludwig said as he retrieved another rope from the box.
He crouched at Jerma’s hip, and started with the tie he’d looked up. It looked pretty easy. He didn’t think he’d need to look at the instructions again. It was a harness that squeezed the base of Jerma’s cock firmly like a cock-ring, and wrapped around his balls to accentuate them in a crude manner.
“Someone says, ’Okay, minute-man’,” Jerma said.
“Hey, that was, like, ten years ago,” Ludwig protested, tightening the ropes around Jerma’s cock. Jerma jolted. “I’m an old man now. I got erectile dysfunction and shit. How do the ropes feel, Jerma?”
“Really good,” he said. A tight pressure that made him feel like he was going to be driven insane with it. He loved going insane.
Ludwig stroked Jerma slowly, staring at it like a dog waiting for his master to tell him he can eat. Then, he dragged a lick along the side just to feel the heat of it on his tongue. He’d wanted this. He’d made himself sick wanting this.
“Go on,” Jerma said, his voice low and smooth.
Ludwig wrapped his lips around it, and slid his mouth down.
“Good boy,” Jerma said.
Ludwig let out a shuddered moan, and hollowed out his cheeks.
“What a good boy,” Jerma said.
Cockiness oozed from his tone, but Ludwig was loving the praise from Jerma. Especially from Jerma. He was amazed it still affected him in the way that it did. It meant everything to him.
“How many times – can I say that before—before it doesn’t affect you anymore?” Jerma asked in a strained voice between pants.
Ludwig looked up at him. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get tired of it.”
Jerma smiled. That smile he did where the corners curled up a lot, and he looked affectionately like a cartoon character. “Be a good boy, and loosen me up so you can fuck me.”
Ludwig was practically commanded to his feet. They carried him to the lube on the desk and back again without conscious thought. The power Jerma had over him right now was insane, and he wondered if Jerma had half a clue about how much power he had.
“Yes, Ludwig is gonna fuck me,” Jerma answered the chat as he awkwardly went to roll his chair back into the middle of the room by pushing it with his chest. “Was that not obvious by – you know – everything we’ve already done this stream?”
“Aren’t you guys excited? Like – yeah, they’re finally doing it!” Ludwig said enthusiastically. “No more badly written fanfictions!”
“Oh, there’ll be plenty more of those now they have more material,” Jerma added. “I’m gonna turn around, and show you all my ass. Don’t freak out too hard.”
Ludwig laughed even though he was, in fact, freaking out over getting to see and touch Jerma’s ass.
Jerma braced his knee on the seat of the chair, and propped his chest against the back. His spine arched, pushing out his ass needily. He was begging for attention. He was drooling for it.
With lube almost dripping from his fingers, Ludwig was sure to give the viewers the best view of Jerma’s hole as he pushed his fingers inside. He’d seen the way it was done in porn, angling the fingers slightly so that the camera could see best. It felt good to do it himself, to show off someone else’s body like it was his property to display.
Jerma pushed back against the fingers inside him, breath shaking. He knew the chat was going crazy – he just knew it. He knew the vile things they were saying. He knew the horrendous names they were calling him. But he knew they liked it. He knew that thousands of people were getting off to the sight of him at once.
“We should do this again,” Ludwig said. He sounded like he’d run a marathon, as if he wasn’t only moving his fingers.
“Nah, Ludwig, I’m done streaming for good after this,” Jerma told him.
“Just you and me.” Ludwig curled his fingers, and Jerma’s eyes rolled. “You’re so fucking hot. Please, let me fuck you again after this.”
“You haven’t even fucked me yet, and you’re already begging for more,” Jerma laughed, turning to look at him. “Maybe, if you’re good.”
Ludwig’s gaze flicked from Jerma’s eyes to his smiling lips. When Jerma’s tongue ran along his bottom lip, Ludwig kissed him, and felt the short puff of air from Jerma’s nose at the touch of their mouths. He hummed, pressed in closer. He was satisfied and hungry at the same time. He was getting what he’d always wanted, and he wanted more and more and more until there was nothing left from Jerma to take.
He devoured Jerma’s mouth as his fingers moved inside him. All he felt was Jerma – his breaths, his tongue, his insides. All he heard was Jerma. He was so lost in him he’d completely forgotten about the stream. All he wanted was to consume him whole.
Then, Jerma broke away to ask, “What’re they saying?”
And it took Ludwig a few seconds to work out what Jerma meant by that before he turned to read the chat. It was so insane, so spammed, that it was difficult to even read a message longer than two words.
“They’re going crazy,” Ludwig muttered. “Calling you an attention whore. Calling you a perverted old man again. They really like your ass, Jerma.”
Jerma bit his lip. Things didn’t change that much after all. They didn’t all hate him as much as he’d thought. If they all hated him so much, then why did twenty thousand people want to watch him have sex?
“’How does he feel?’” Ludwig read. “He’s not very tight. Not really the prude you all thought he was, huh? And I can feel him twitching like crazy on me. Can you guys see that?” Ludwig paused to read the chat. “Yeah, he is a little faggot, isn’t he? D’you finger yourself, Jerma, or do you use toys?”
“Just—just my hand,” Jerma replied in a moan. He was rocking back on Ludwig’s hand, desperate. “I’ve never felt anything close to the real thing. Please, Ludwig.” His fingers wiggled urgently. “Please fuck me. Let me feel you.”
Ludwig pulled Jerma off the chair by the harness. He was really enjoying using it as a lead, jerking Jerma around like a ragdoll. And Jerma seemed to enjoy it too. He went limp, let it happen, stumbled this way and that as Ludwig pulled him.
“You’re the star of the show,” Ludwig told him as he sat down on the office chair, “so you’ve gotta make the entertainment. Ride me.”
Jerma took in how he looked on the monitor. Red-faced, hard and tied up at Ludwig’s mercy. He twisted his hands in the ropes to take hold of Ludwig’s cock, and guide it to his hole. As he slowly eased it inside himself, he read over the chat. All he saw were insults and insanely homophobic comments. The obscenity of the chat along with the feeling of being filled up had Jerma panting and whining. His hands were trembling with pleasure.
“Ludwig,” Jerma breathed. “Ludwig, you feel so good.”
Ludwig’s groan was vaguely stifled – like he was holding his breath.
Jerma moved as fast as he could manage in the position he was in. His head hung between his shoulders, hair swaying with ease bounce. A dull sensation of pain settled in his lower stomach. Pain that would surely come back to bite him if he sobered up – which was unlikely.
Ludwig threw back his head, eyebrows screwed up. He couldn’t take seeing Jerma like this. Watching Jerma’s ass press down onto his hips, watching Jerma take him all the way. He’d thought his overeager orgasms were finished. He’d thought he could last a normal amount of time now. But, with Jerma, it was like he was in his twenties again.
“Jerma, I’m so—fuck, I’m sorry. I’m gonna—God,” Ludwig spluttered helplessly. “You’re so—you’re so—”
“That’s okay, Lud,” Jerma said. “I just want you to cum inside me, and let me cum.”
Ludwig’s body took over, grasping onto Jerma’s waist, and his hips bucked up into him. Jerma relaxed into it, let his body be taken.
“Good,” Jerma mewled. “Good boy.”
“Fuck you,” Ludwig managed to stammer out as he came with a shudder.
“You are quick, aren’t you?” Jerma said in that smooth, low voice he sometimes used.
Ludwig braced his head against Jerma’s shoulder-blade. “It’s been a while since I was that quick.”
Jerma grinned reading the chat. A mixture between ‘Jerma’s that good’ and ‘minute man Ludwig’. It felt good. There were so many people watching, and they weren’t telling him to kill himself. Everything was back to how it should be in the chat – just for tonight. Just for the last time.
When Ludwig lifted his head again with a sigh, Jerma asked, “You gonna take this thing off my dick so I can cum?”
Ludwig just hummed. He pushed Jerma gently to get him to stand up. The feeling of Ludwig sliding out of him made Jerma’s knees buckle for a moment, but he managed to right himself. Ludwig took him by the hips, and spun him around to face away from the camera.
“Bend over,” Ludwig said.
Jerma obliged, happy to show himself off to the camera.
Ludwig reached out to grip Jerma’s ass, and spread him open. Jerma braced his chest on Ludwig’s shoulder. He couldn’t hold himself up – too breathless and dizzy and aroused. He didn’t know what the mess Ludwig made looked like, but he sure as hell could feel it. The cum dripping down his perineum and undoubtedly soaking the ropes around his balls.
“Please,” Jerma breathed before he even knew he was speaking.
“What?” Ludwig said.
“Please, let me cum,” he whined. It hurt how hard he was. The moment the ropes were loosened, he was sure to cum.
“He wants to cum, guys.” Ludwig turned him back around, and walked him close to the camera by the harness. “You think we should let him cum yet?”
The chat was filled with ‘no’. Not a single viewer replied with a ‘yes’. Not a single viewer wanted to spare Jerma. As usual.
“Please,” Jerma griped, almost sobbing with desperation. “Please-please. I know you guys wanna see it. The stream won’t be up for much longer. You guys wanna watch me cum, don’t you?”
But they were stubborn. They were cruel. Some people were swayed by Jerma’s begging, but the majority refused.
Ludwig’s fingers slipped back inside him, and he whimpered like a hit dog, legs shaking. He needed his hands back so he could brace himself on the desk or he was sure he’d collapse.
“No?” Ludwig echoed the chat. “You don’t wanna let him cum yet?”
He pulled his fingers out of Jerma, and brought them up to his panting lips. Jerma’s tongue lifted to taste them, to taste Ludwig on them. How good it was.
“What’re we gonna do with him, huh?” Ludwig asked, showing off Jerma’s drooling, panting face. “Aw, look at him. Poor guy.”
Jerma pressed his sensitive cock into the sharp edge of the desk. It hurt, but, at least, it was something. He crushed himself against the wood.
“Are we just gonna wait here while Jerma fucks the table until you guys finally let him cum?” Ludwig said. “We gonna watch him castrate himself?”
“Please,” Jerma wept around Ludwig’s fingers.
“Won’t you guys have mercy on him?” Ludwig pulled his spit-laced fingers from Jerma’s mouth, and brought them down to play at the head of his cock instead.
Jerma cried out, lurching forward.
“He’s so sensitive. Look at him squirm,” Ludwig laughed. “You’re torturing him, guys.”
He planted his hands on Jerma’s chest to pull him upright again, and groped at the fat. Jerma could no longer read the chat. His eyes were blurred with arousal or just tears, or whatever it was. He didn’t know. If he was crying, he couldn’t feel it. All he could feel was the throbbing in his cock, and Ludwig’s hands fondling his body.
“’This guy’s gotta be on drugs’,” Ludwig read out. “No, he’s horny, old pervert. How long’s it been since you last got your cock stroked?”
“Too lo—too long,” Jerma gasped out.
“Years – I bet.” Ludwig circled his thumbs around Jerma’s nipples. “No one’s wanted to fuck you since Holly left you, huh? You’ve been so desperate. Aren’t you lucky I agreed to this?”
Jerma could only respond with an obscene moan.
“Aren’t you lucky I’ll fuck you over and over until your poor, fragile body can’t take it anymore?” Ludwig went on.
Jerma’s whole body was on fire. He couldn’t stand. He couldn’t even stop the drool from pouring from his mouth onto the carpet.
“Pathetic old man,” Ludwig growled.
Jerma was sure he was bawling by now. He couldn’t even speak to beg anymore. Just letting out blubbering syllables in hopes Ludwig would see just how badly he needed to cum.
“You want me to take it off?” Ludwig asked in a voice oozing with condescension. “Does it hurt?”
Jerma wailed miserably, and nodded.
“It hurts that bad, huh?”
He pressed himself back beggingly into Ludwig’s body.
The moment Ludwig’s hands were on the ropes restricting his cock, Jerma’s legs were shaking so severely that Ludwig had to wrap an arm around his waist to keep him up. The ropes loosened, and Jerma’s hips jerked. His vision went black. A ringing in his ears told him he was about to pass out. Faintly, Ludwig’s purrs sounded underwater.
By the time Jerma’s body came down from his orgasm, he was on the floor, slumped against Ludwig’s legs. Ludwig was working the knots out of the Dragonfly Harness.
“That feel good?” Ludwig asked with a teasing tone.
“Yeah,” Jerma said. Everything still sounded muffled. He didn’t think he’d ever cum this hard before.
“Did you pass out or?”
With his hands finally free, Jerma brought them up to wipe the tears from his face, and the drool from his chin. “Might’ve.”
Ludwig rubbed at the red lines marked down Jerma’s arms as he helped him to his feet. He wondered if they’d bruise. He hoped they would.
Jerma braced himself against the desk to see how the stream was doing, and beamed. His stream had been forcibly stopped by Twitch, and replaced by a message telling him he’d been permanently banned.
“Took them long enough,” Ludwig remarked.