Dylan Garcia

The stream went live before I had time to breathe.

“Yes my darlings,” Charles’s voice poured through the microphone, smooth and commanding. Every syllable thrummed with control. Midnight Daddy. Hearing it raw, unfiltered, and this close was almost unbearable. Then his hand pressed between my shoulder blades, forcing me down to my knees in front of the camera.

“This,” he continued, his palm heavy on me, “is my new pet. From now on, you’ll know him as Luna.”

The chat exploded instantly.

Who is that?

Omg a new sub??

Daddy you’re spoiling us!!

Luna, cute name!

Heat raced up my neck, my face flaming as thousands of strangers dissected me with words on a screen. Charles angled the camera so my face was hidden, showing only my body: kneeling, head bowed, trembling under his hand.

“Introduce yourself, Luna,” Charles commanded, his tone iron-clad.

My throat was dry. “I… I’m Luna, Sir.”

“Louder.”

“I’m Luna, Sir!”

The chat went wild again. The humiliation of it all, the spotlight, the anonymity, the way Charles’s voice stripped me bare, made my cock ache against the lace briefs I had chosen just for him. I wanted to die and come at the same time.

Charles chuckled, leaning down so his lips grazed my ear, but his words were for the audience. “He’s a little shy. Don’t worry, my pets, I’ll train them well.”

The comments poured in:

Train them, Daddy!

Make them beg!

Punish Luna!

Charles straightened, his grip tightening on my jaw, tilting my head toward the lens. “Take off your robe.”

My hands shook as I obeyed, tugging the satin loose. It slid off my shoulders, pooling on the carpet. Cool air brushed my bare chest, leaving me exposed in nothing but the black lace.

“Good,” he murmured, fingers trailing slowly down my throat, over my collarbone, leaving fire in their wake. “Now say it, Luna. Tell everyone what you are.”

My lips parted, pride warring with the desperate need clawing at me. His stare burned into me until the words spilled out. “I’m… I’m your slut, Sir.”

The chat went insane.

YESSSSSSSS

Good little slut

Daddy owns you now, Luna!

Charles laughed low, satisfied. “Smart pet.” His hand tightened in my hair, tugging my head back until I gasped. “You exist for my pleasure. For the audience’s pleasure. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,”

“Prove it. Strip.”

Shame and arousal tangled until I couldn’t tell them apart. My briefs were the last defense, thin and useless. My cock strained against them, betraying me before thousands of strangers. Exposed, dizzy, I peeled them down.

Charles leaned close, whispering for my ears only, “Look at you. Hard already. Pathetic little slut.” Then louder, for the mic, “On your hands and knees, Luna.”

I dropped instantly, palms pressed into the carpet, ass raised high. The camera framed me perfectly—vulnerable and displayed for the people who are watching.

“Beg for Daddy,” Charles said, his voice a velvet blade.

Humiliation seared me. My lips trembled. “Please, Daddy… please use me. I want to be your good slut.”

The chat erupted in caps and emojis. Charles chuckled, crouching beside me, his hand squeezing the curve of my ass. I gasped, shivering at the casual dominance.

“You hear that?” Charles purred to the mic. “My pet is begging already. But begging alone doesn’t earn rewards, does it, Luna?”

“N-no, Sir.”

“That’s right.” His fingers slipped on my waist, teasing me. My cock throbbed, dripping as the exposure was unbearable. Gasps and demands exploded in the chat. Charles ignored them, focused only on me, his new toy.

“You’ll learn, Luna. Tonight is just the beginning. You belong to me now. And I’ll show everyone exactly how pathetic and needy you are.”

My vision blurred, my body trembling, every nerve ending on fire.

“Now,” Charles said, his voice low, dangerous, absolute. “Say it again for them. Loud.”

“I-I belong to you, Daddy! I’m your pathetic slut!”

The screen flooded with donations. The chat went feral.

And Charles’s laugh, dark, triumphant, sealed it.