The Streamer Who Stole My Husband

Kayla Koc

Copyright

Copyright ©2026 by Kayla Koc

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

The Comfortable Grind

Erica slammed her mouse down so hard the desk rattled. “Fucking hell, Ken. You missed the easiest ult again. How many times do I have to call it?”

Ken’s voice came through the headset, small and tired. “Sorry, babe. Lag spike.”

“Bullshit. You fucking choked.” Erica gnawed her cheek until she tasted blood, the copper tang mixing with her disgust. Her rank bar taunted her at 92% toward Diamond. Ken was still wallowing in Platinum, a trash heap of losers. Same pathetic shit every night.

She glared at the clock. 2:17 a.m. Her eyes felt like sandpaper. She should be grinding solo, not wasting her time babysitting his useless ass. But the idea of queuing alone made her guts knot up. Ken was hers. Her little project. Her limp-dicked husband.

Ken rubbed the back of his neck on the webcam feed. That nervous tic again. “We can try one more?”

“No. I’m done carrying dead weight tonight.” Erica killed the party. The silence in her headphones felt too loud.

She shoved herself away from the desk, legs numb and aching. Her panties were soaked, not from any win, but from the raw frustration, from the way Ken’s voice broke when she tore into him. Pathetic. Her cunt throbbed with the kind of need that made her hate herself.

Later, in bed, Ken tried to spoon her. His hand slid over her hip. She stiffened.

“Not tonight,” she muttered. “Ranked tomorrow. Need sleep.”

He pulled away without arguing. Good boy. Always good.

Erica stared at the ceiling, fingers already between her legs, rubbing her clit in slow, angry circles. She pictured the next regional, imagined how high she’d climb if she didn’t have Ken chained to her ankle like a dead weight. Her cunt clenched around nothing. She bit her lip until she tasted blood.

The next morning, she scrolled through Twitch while sipping cold coffee. Celeste Lyons was live. Platinum blonde with pink tips, huge tits spilling out of a cropped jersey, voice like warm honey dripping over broken glass.

“Nice shot, cutie,” Celeste purred to some viewer. Chat exploded with hearts.

Erica’s thumb paused. Celeste’s duo highlights popped up in the recommended. The girl was popping off with random supports. Headshots crisp. Callouts filthy.

Erica clicked.

On screen, Celeste leaned toward the mic. “Come on, baby, stay on my ass. I’ll carry you if you’re good for me.”

The guy in the duo moaned something stupid. Celeste laughed, low and throaty. “That’s my good boy.”

Erica’s clit throbbed, traitorous and hungry. She fucking hated it. Hated how soaked she got watching some cock-hungry slut tease a nobody. But the idea hit her brain like a bat to the skull.

Ken needed a better duo partner. Someone who could actually make him useful. Someone who could teach him without Erica having to scream every match.

Celeste.

Erica’s fingers shook as she copied the streamer’s Discord link. She typed fast before she could talk herself out of it.

“Hey, Celeste. Erica Martin here. Pro on the ladder. My husband, Ken, is decent but needs work. Are you free for some duo queues? I’ll pay for coaching if it helps his mechanics.”

She hit send. Heart hammering. Knee bouncing under the desk.

Ken walked in, hair still messy from sleep. “Morning. Want breakfast?”

“Later.” Erica didn’t look up. “I found you a new duo.”

He blinked. “Who?”

“Celeste Lyons. The streamer is blowing up right now.”

Ken’s face went pink. He rubbed his neck again. “The hot one? With the… voice?”

“Yeah. That one.” Erica’s cunt squeezed again, humiliating and hot. “It’s for your own good. You’ll duo with her. I’ll watch. Maybe you’ll finally stop being a fucking anchor.”

Ken swallowed. “You sure? I mean… she’s kinda famous.”

“Exactly. She’ll make you better. Or at least make you look less like a fucking bot.” Erica forced a smirk. “Unless you’re scared she’ll embarrass you.”

He laughed, nervous. “No, I… okay. If you think it’ll help your rank.”

“It will.” Erica stood up, stepped close, and grabbed his shirt. “Just remember who you come home to, support boy.”

She kissed him hard, tongue aggressive. He melted into it like always. But her mind was already on Celeste’s voice. On what might happen when that breathy purr told Ken what to do.

That night, they queued.

Celeste accepted the friend request quickly. Voice chat popped.

“Hey Erica! And you must be Ken. Cute name.” Celeste’s laugh slid right into Erica’s headphones like warm oil. “Ready to pop off?”

Erica kept her mic muted on her end. She wanted to listen raw.

Ken cleared his throat. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

First match. Celeste’s character danced across the screen. Perfect flicks. “Ken, babe, push left with me. I've got your back. Stay close.”

Ken’s aim sharpened. He actually landed shots. “Got one!”

“Good boy,” Celeste purred. “Keep that cock— I mean, keep that energy.”

Ken choked on his water. Erica’s fingers froze on her own mouse. Her pussy flooded. She pressed her thighs together hard, chair creaking.

They won. Fast. Decisively.

Celeste giggled. “See? We click. You’re way better when someone talks nice to you, huh?”

Ken laughed, voice shaky. “Guess so.”

Erica’s rank bar sat there, unmoving, mocking her. She hadn’t even queued. She just watched, cheeks burning, cunt aching, humiliated by her own need.

Another match. Celeste’s voice dropped lower. “Ken, you’re so good at following my lead. I like a man who knows when to support.”

Ken’s breathing changed. Deeper. “Thanks… you’re insane.”

Erica shoved her hand into her shorts, two fingers sliding through the mess between her legs. She bit her lip until it bled. Shame burned through her chest. This was her idea. Her husband. Her fucking plan. She was the one turning herself into a cuck.

But her body didn’t care.

Celeste landed a sick play. “Yes! Ken, you’re already my favorite support. We should do this more. Maybe a bootcamp sometime? Hotel, VOD review, the works.”

Ken glanced at Erica’s muted icon. “Uh… maybe. I’ll check with my wife.”

Erica’s fingers pumped faster, desperate and sloppy. Her clit throbbed under her thumb. She came, hard, thighs shaking, biting her fist so they wouldn’t hear her whimper like a bitch in heat.

The match ended. Victory screen glowed.

Celeste sighed happily. “Tell Erica I said hi. And Ken… good boy tonight. Real good.”

Ken logged off, face flushed. “She’s… intense.”

Erica yanked her hand out of her shorts, fingers slick and shining. Her heart hammered with guilt and something filthy. “Yeah. She is.”

She stood up, legs trembling, and stalked over to Ken, straddling his lap in the sticky gaming chair. “Fuck me. Now.”

He blinked. “Now?”

“Now.” She ripped his shorts down, not caring if she hurt him. His cock was already twitching, half-hard and needy. She dropped onto it in one wet, hungry slide. “Tell me how much you wanted her voice in your ear.”

Ken groaned. “Babe—”

“Tell me.” Erica bounced on his cock, riding him rough, nails digging into his shoulders, not enough to leave marks, just enough to make him wince. She wanted him to feel it.

“She sounded… really hot,” he admitted, hips bucking up.

Erica’s cunt squeezed around his cock, greedy and mean. “You gonna let her carry you again?”

“If you want.”

“I do.” She ground down on him, chasing another messy orgasm. “I want you to get better. Even if she flirts. Even if she calls you her good boy. Especially then.”

Ken’s eyes widened, but his cock twitched inside her.

Erica came again, shame crashing over her, drowning out the pleasure. She pressed her mouth to his neck, voice cracking. “I’m such a fucking loser for this.”

But she didn’t stop riding. Didn’t stop pushing.

Later, alone in the bathroom, Erica stared at her own reflection. Cheeks blotchy, eyes glassy and wild. Her rank bar still sat there, waiting, mocking her.

She opened Discord. Typed to Celeste.

“He’s in. Duo, whenever you want. Make him useful.”

Celeste replied with a winking emoji and a voice note. That honey voice purred, “Oh, I will. Don’t worry, Erica. I take very good care of my supports.”

Erica listened to it three times. Fingers back between her legs.

Her knee bounced, restless. She tasted blood again from biting her cheek raw.

This was just the beginning.

And she was already dripping, cunt soaked and hungry for the humiliation she knew was coming.