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“Okay, fine! Relax!! Lemme try to fix the cam, gimme a second.” Just an hour into the first comb stream in a while, Jerma has decided he’s fed up with chat constantly ragging on him for his shitty webcam, which is particularly crusty and laggy today. He doesn’t really get why they want to look at his face when he’s literally just talking, but whatever. They can get what they want.
He scooches his chair over to the bulk of his messy setup—a bramble of black and red wires connected to his PC and the shitty webcam and less shitty mic. At chat’s ongoing complaints, he groans, “Alright, alright. Be patient.” He finally starts fiddling with the wires, but the more he tries to fix it, the more tangled the cluster seems to get.
A bit comes to mind, thankfully, which should keep them entertained for at least a little while longer. He readjusts the godforsaken webcam so chat can see his terrible setup, and he sticks his arm in the mess of it. “Woah!!! It’s— It’s eating me! It’s biting my arm!! AH!!! Help!!” he dramatizes in some stupid voice, appeasing chat for the time being. Whatever. He pulls his arm out— He pulls… It won’t budge. He laughs it off. “Shit, now I’m actually stuck. I hate computers—” It tightens; Jerma sweats. “Lemme just, um…” He tries to loosen the wires near his stuck elbow, but they just get tighter. It feels kinda nice, at least. Like a massage. And like. Well. Better not to think of it right now.
“How the hell did I even manage— Ah, there we go.” One of the wires finally pulls loose and then immediately wraps itself around his other wrist. “What the fuck?” And he looks down at a weird sensation: another cable curling around his ankle. “Oh, shit— Woah!!”
In the blink of an eye, he’s upside down. The wire around his ankle shot up to the ceiling, and his other knee hangs from another wire, stopping him from squirming around too much. It almost feels like a… Jerma squints at upside-down chat, and it’s nothing but OMEGALULs, “WE GOT HIM”s, and the like. Trap.
“Hey!!!” He scolds, wriggling his torso around—a fruitless attempt to get free. Instead, his tank top slides up—or down, rather—his torso. He sucks in his gut, flushing. “Get me down!! I said I was trying to fix it!”
No dice, of course. The webcam issues were probably just a setup; he wouldn’t be surprised if chat made his webcam so shitty in the first place. Somehow. Well, they’re managing to control the rest of his computer too, so it wouldn’t be too out there to think.
They just keep laughing, now paired with some particularly degrading comments regarding his body. Whatever. Jerma has to admit, it’s a pretty good bit. And it feels… nice. The comments do too.
At least he has shorts on. In the OBS preview, it doesn’t look too incriminating. There shouldn’t be an issue with TOS, as long as he can control himself. Hopefully chat just lets him go before it gets any harder (literally and figuratively).
With all the blood starting to go to Jerma’s head, something tickles his stomach—an Ethernet cable, of course, snaking up from his leg to his belly. The rough plastic edges at the end are particularly tickly. He giggles a bit, swaying back and forth. “What’re you guys doing?” he asks, growing lightheaded. His shirt drapes down more, his nipples peeking out at the very bottom. Naturally, the wires go for them. More of them, reaching up from the floor to touch him, more, more.
He squints to read chat, choking down the giggles but letting out a sigh with each flick over his nipples. “‘Does it feel good?’ Yeah, yeah. It’s—” A cable circles around and squeezes his waist, and he laughs again, shutting his eyes tightly. “Stop it!! That tickles!” It’s really silly. Really funny bit. His nipples in swollen peaks, so sensitive.
Okay. So what if he’s hard? The shorts are loose enough; you probably can’t even tell unless you’re looking for it. Which chat probably is, considering there’s another wire snaking up his pant leg. “H-Hey,” he giggles, twisting around again. And then under his underwear. Just his thigh at first, but then. Well. “Oh,” he says, shyly, “Hey.”
Chat, again: Does it feel good? “Oh, um, yeah.” Wires flicking across his nipples and. Wrapping. “Mhm. It, um, it tickles— Ah!” His hand flies up to cover his mouth— well, it doesn’t. His wrists are tied down still. Right.
“Is everyone enjoying the stream?” Jerma says, casually, and chat says yes. “The cam’s better, right?” His voice shakes a bit—the wrapping, the pulling—but chat says yes again. “G-Good.” He bucks his hips forward, finally and it’s “Good. I am too. This is, um, fun.” And he lets himself let out a moan with the wire pulsing around him. “W-Wow, haha. Feels weird.” And then he can’t speak anymore, with all the light flashing behind his eyelids, the pleasure in his gut overwhelming him. But it’s not entirely dead air, with little whines escaping his lips. He can’t help but thrust into the wires, or at least try to. He’s entirely pinned down at this point, though, so he just sways awkwardly. And then another wire (where are all of them even coming from?) creeps up his chest. You think chat would run out of tricks at this point, but it’s wrapping again, tightening around his neck.
“G-Guys, hey. Relax—” but then he’s choking. He lets his mouth fall open, sitting in breathlessness. It’s blissful. Jeremy, chat says, but he can’t respond, nothing but a little whine. Jeremy? And another wire sneaks up his shorts, pressing beneath his cheeks, and—
“Jeremy, hey!”
Jeremy’s eyes shoot open, and he can’t breathe. His hand is tight around his throat. He relaxes it, inhaling sharply.
“Hey, are you okay?” Monica’s hand is on his chest, her voice nervous but tired. It’s pitch black in their room, outside of the light from his digital clock. It’s the middle of the night still. Just a dream. “You were, like, groaning in your sleep.”
Jeremy sits up, trying to steady his breathing. “Y-Yeah, um. Just had a weird nightmare.” Weird is a good word for it, but nightmare is not. At least she can assume his pounding heart and excessive sweating is a fear response, and not… well, admittedly, he still is really turned on. And she’s here, awake. Holding his hand.
“What happened?” She sits up too, leaning on Jeremy’s shoulder.
“I don’t really remember,” he lies. “Someone was, um, chasing after me or something. The usual.”
“Scary…” she repeats, kissing his neck. And again. “You sounded kind of hot, though.” Oh. Her hands come up to his chest, pushing him back into the bed, gentler than the wires, but just as needy. When they travel down to his groin, she’s surprised to find him ready to go. “Oh. Weird nightmare, huh?”
He stammers, “I think, um, just because I was scared—”
“Right…” She laughs, kissing him deeply. “Well, I’ll have to take care of you, yeah? Poor thing.”
“If you, um, want to,” Jeremy says, clearly not desperate. He can’t say no to that. Even if it’s not as elaborate of a fantasy, he still does get a piece of chat to himself: Hollulu, his cute little mod. And he won’t get banned from Twitch for taking advantage of it, at least not yet.