Hierarchy of Needs

But instead, the music wound down, and my sister left the stage, grinning wildly.

Tempting as it was to stick around and see if she'd return to the stage, perhaps getting fully naked, I slipped out before she could find me hanging around.

At home, I spent the next few hours rewatching some of the footage I'd recorded from the previous day's stream, and pictured her giving "private dances" - whatever that involved.

###

That night, I made sure that I was still up when Ashley got home. Except for the six-inch heels she was carrying, she was dressed like she would be around the house. Her face flushed red when I raised my eyebrows at the shoes in her hand, and she glanced around before leaning in close.

"Jake," she said softly, "can I tell you a secret?"

For the next half-hour, I sat back and listened as my older sister told me everything. Ashley confessed to getting a job as a stripper, and then when it was clear that I wasn't going to judge her, told me all about her first shift.

She was so hyper. She just sat on the end of her bed, gushing about how much she'd enjoyed the experience. All those strangers' eyes on her, appreciating her body, admiring her skill. She didn't go into any sexual details, but it was clear that just telling me about it was starting to get her a bit worked up.

I still had no idea what happened during a private dance - even in her manic state, my sister maintained some discretion - but the fact that she was new, combined with her clear enjoyment of the work had apparently resulted in more requests than any of the other girls; a "new record" for a weeknight, apparently.

If Ashley wasn't careful, she was quickly going to make some stripper enemies.

It quickly became clear that Ashley was still pretty worked up from it all. A part of me was screaming "Make a move, make a move!" but I held back. 'Sex' was still a low priority for my sister, and 'Sex With Jacob' likely didn't even exist in her folder.

And so instead, I just nodded, smiled, and listened to her as she slowly wound down. Eventually, she yawned and excused herself. We both went into our rooms, and I was about to drift off when I heard it.

Music.

Coming from my sister's room.

It seemed that the evening's work hadn't been enough for Ashley to completely burn off her exhibitionist need - or perhaps by creating the new piece of paper I'd doubled her urges - but I moved to my computer so quickly I'm surprised I didn't leave a Jacob-shaped cloud of dust, and logged onto the USCamgirls site.

Sure enough, my sister had just opened up her channel. Through the walls I hadn't recognized it, but coming out of my laptop it was crystal clear: the song that Ashley was playing was the same one I'd seen her strip to, her first song of the night.

For the second time that evening, I sat and watched as my sister slowly disrobed. This time, however, there were two major differences: firstly, I was able to pull my pud as I did.

And secondly, my sister didn't stop when she reached her dripping panties. As she pulled them off, revealing the fact that she'd shaved since her last show (presumably another requirement of the club), she began to talk, sharing the details of her shift.

A private dance, I learned from her gasping explanation, had pretty strict rules. You take them into a side room, and the client can only touch the dancer on the hips or waist (or, if you're servicing a woman, the boobs. I have no idea why there are different rules for women).

The dancer, however, can touch the client wherever they like. And Ashley had been so worked up, she'd taken full advantage of this rule.

She didn't describe any of her clients. From the way she was talking about them, you'd assume they were sexual gods, but I'd been in the club, and the only clientele I'd seen looked like losers; guys who were too old, fat or ugly to get a real girlfriend.

Apparently her exhibitionist tendencies didn't discriminate, however. A set of eyes was a set of eyes, and that was all my sister needed to get all hot and bothered.

And so when Ashley had gotten her first private dance, the sight of him unzipping his pants and revealing how hard she'd made him had turned her on so much, she'd forgotten herself, and reached out to jerk him off.

Just knowing that my sister was so turned on from exposing herself that she'd jerk off a stranger was pretty hot, but hearing it directly from the horse's mouth (so to speak) - watching her grope her tits with one hand and rub herself with the other, while she pantingly described the experience...

Wow.

Apparently she'd had the foresight to aim his cock away from her when he came (which didn't take long). Returning to the floor covered in cum would probably have gotten her in trouble. And though he tipped extremely generously, she didn't spend the evening jerking guys off; she'd behaved more professionally with the others, just slowly getting more and more worked up as the night went on.

Driving home, she'd had to pull to the side and get herself off. I briefly considered hiding in the back seat next time she had a shift, but quickly realized how pointless that plan was. Now that I knew her channel, I could watch my sister get off any time.

Still...being in the room as she did was pretty tempting. The sounds, the smells...

My sister's show lasted an hour before she started to fade, and headed to bed. She came half a dozen times. The shift at the strip club had really gotten her worked up, and it was by far the hottest show I had ever seen, but the tips still weren't coming in as fast or strong as they should have.

As I shut down my laptop and began to drift off, I smiled. Everything was going exactly as I'd planned - better, in fact. A few small tweaks, and my sister wouldn't just be jerking off men at the club, she'd be fucking them. Soon enough, she'd trust me enough to let me help with her cam shows, and then I would get to watch her get herself off.

Not only watch, but offer advice. She'd obey my every suggestion, masturbate exactly how I told her to, and from there...

From there, it was only a few small steps to being my complete sexual slave.

I couldn't wait.

***

As my sister openly sobbed, it was hard not to smile.

Not that I didn't deserve to celebrate; it had taken me the better part of two weeks to get all the pieces into place, but it was worth it.

She was totally distraught...and had turned to me for comfort.

"It's okay," I whispered, trying to mask the glee in my voice. "Everything's going to be fine."

"I just...I just don't know what came over me."

Half a dozen men, I privately thought, holding back a chuckle.

"It's okay," I said. "You were just a little tightly wound; everyone loses control sometimes."

"I mean it," she said, looking up at me with two red eyes. Even while she was sobbing, she managed to look sexy. I genuinely have no idea how she did it. "I couldn't help myself. It was like I wasn't in control of my body."

Crap. May have overdone it a little bit there.

"There, there," I said, patting her head and pulling her to my chest. "It was just a moment of weakness. I'm sure that by tomorrow, everything will be back to normal."

"Okay," she said with a sigh. "I'm sure you're right."

I was. By the morning, the file would be back in place, and the night's events would be explained away as a freak incident, never to be repeated.

At least, I hoped.

###

In accordance with their programming, Mom and Dad never even questioned Ashley on where she was every night. If they had, and she'd told them, I was pretty sure that they wouldn't even mind.

It's interesting; no matter how much you change someone's priorities, they still remain them underneath. Mom and Dad had gone from high-pressure, inquisitive and actively involved parents to disinterested figures who just enjoyed our company...but if I hadn't been looking for it, I don't know that I would have noticed the difference.

Mom still told awful jokes, Dad still spent way too much time at the office. I guess those were things I could have changed if I'd had a reason, but I suspected that even if I moved Mom's desire to be funny down in the priority list, and made Dad want to impress his bosses less...they'd still be them, y'know?

What makes us us? That was the kind of question that would have kept me awake all night, once upon a time, but with my reduced curiosity it was pretty easy to dismiss.

Instead, I focused on my sister.

Each night followed the same routine. She'd disappear after family dinner and come back in the early hours of the morning. I guess I didn't technically see her go to the strip club, but she came back each night carrying a pair of six-inch pumps, smelling like shame and cheap perfume, so yeah; I doubt she was moonlighting as a crappy Catwoman.

As soon as she returned, the music would start, and I could log on to see her naked, performing all manner of lewd acts.

Her clientele was growing, at both locations. She never mentioned specific numbers to me, but I checked out her filing cabinet a couple of times and she was starting to make serious bank at the strip club.

Imagine if Jessica Rabbit came to life as a blonde and started getting off on stripping. Yeah, it wasn't a huge surprise to work out why she was pulling so much dough.

What did surprise me was how much her camgirl audience was growing. Like I said, she wasn't doing much "right". S would strip off pretty much straight away; no teasing, no begging for tips. Then she'd just get off while talking about her shift.

I mean, I guess it's not totally crazy. She was hugely attractive (as I may have mentioned) and she was breaking the whole camgirl paradigm - she genuinely didn't seem to care about the money. The strip club was fulfilling all her financial needs and so the camgirling was just to get off in front of strangers.

And that's what gave me the idea.

See, I have a theory. As our needs are met and filled, our priorities shift. If I desperately wanted a girlfriend, after I get one I'm obviously going to prioritise that less, right? That's why people break up; if everyone spent as much effort on keeping a girlfriend as they did on getting one, there'd be a lot more happy couples in the world.

So in my filing cabinet, 'Having A Girlfriend' would slowly shift backwards over time...until we broke up, at which point it would probably leap forward again.

That wasn't happening with Ashley.

As her short-term income went up, you would normally expect to see the 'Short-Term Wealth' file drifting backwards. If the need is met, it's not as much of a priority any more, right?

But I checked it every day or two, and it never moved. Instead, the "goal" - how much wealth would make her happy - kept increasing and increasing.

Maybe this is just a natural part of wanting to be rich. I mean, you never see a billionaire go "Okay, I've got enough money now." People keep wanting more and more, even as they blast past their previous goals.

But I suspect that's not what was happening. At least, that's not all that was happening.

I'd bet that it was my fault. Since I'd been the one to move the folder, it wasn't going to move again until I made it. And so I'd put my poor sister into this loop; even as she was making more and more money at the club, she didn't take fewer shifts. She just kept on working, watching her income go up, always wanting more.

And it wasn't just money. The more she exposed herself, the greater her exhibitionist itch grew. That was why she kept on camgirling: there was a maximum audience at the strip club (the number of people that fit in the building, obviously) whereas camgirls could be seen by thousands.

Hundreds of thousands, if they got big enough.

The end result was that Ashley used the two outlets to scratch different itches. Her increased viewership online hadn't led to more money, so she just did whatever she could to get more views...and her fans at the club weren't going to suddenly increase by a factor of ten, so she focused her efforts on milking them for as much as she could.

And so despite getting off in front of thousands, and earning more than I knew a stripper could even make, my sister found herself constantly frustrated. She wanted to expose herself to more people, and she wanted mo' money.

The plan was simple. The best part was, for the first few weeks, I didn't need to do anything. I just kept watching her target income rise and her urge to flash people grow. Even after a full night at the club and a two-hour show, I knew she was desperate to expose herself to more people. When she thought I wasn't home, she'd started answering the door naked, or putting on a bit of a show for our neighbor.

He's 78 years old. Like I said, exhibitionist tendencies don't discriminate.

Then, when she was starting the climb the walls with frustration...that's when I'd executed the second phase of my plan.

One Sunday night, I'd moved two files in my sister's filing cabinet. Her 'Orgasm' priority was shifted way, way up...and both 'Sex' and 'Masturbation' way down. 'Sex' went at the very back of the cabinet, and 'Masturbation' wasn't much higher.

The idea was to make her desperate to cum, at all hours of the day...but uninterested in getting herself off, or getting off with someone else.

Honestly, I wasn't entirely sure what would happen. The goal was just to make her constantly horny, but it really could have done anything. Maybe she'd learn to cum just from thinking about it, or get off from people watching without needing to touch herself. Maybe she'd masturbate out of necessity. Like in my cabinet: 'Personal Grooming' had been quite low, but if I wanted to impress a girl (or my parents were forcing me) it was absolutely something I'd do.

Obviously unless it was on camera, I had no idea if my sister was getting herself off or not, but I can tell you; over the next few days, her cum shows were almost entirely replaced with her just dancing, showing off her body, and taking requests (I got far too excited when my "put on your old school uniform" suggestion was accepted. Man did that take me back).

Then, at the end of the following week - Saturday night, her biggest shift of the week - exactly an hour after she left for work, I went back into the tiny room beneath the stairs.

And I moved 'Sex' to the very front of her drawer, behind only 'Air', 'Water', and 'Food'.

###

Ashley looked out at the crowd, licking her lips.

She wanted to fuck them.

All of them.

No, that wasn't right. She needed to fuck them. She had never been so sure of anything in her whole life.

She didn't care that she was just starting her shift, she didn't care that she'd get in trouble. In that moment, all she needed - more than anything - was to get their dicks hard and get them inside of her.

Her tongue passed over her lips again, and she looked around cautiously. She was horny - she'd been horny all week - but she wasn't stupid. If she leapt off the stage and started straddling people, she'd get kicked out (or worse; arrested) and then she wouldn't get to fuck anyone.

No, if she was going to do this (and she definitely was) then she was going to have to play it smart.

Step one, dance. As well as she could, to get those cocks nice and hard, so she could lower herself down on them, so she could feel them inside her...so she could cum around them and make them cum as well.

Focus, Ashley, she told herself, and forced her attention outward.

For the last week, she'd been so turned on - so turned on - and yet strangely unmotivated to do anything about it. She'd only cum twice in the week, when the urge had grown so strong that she couldn't hold back any longer. Even then she hadn't reached between her legs, or found someone to do it for her; she'd just ground herself against the couch in jeans, the feeling of the stiff material against her throbbing wetness enough to bring her to orgasm.

A few days ago, just for a moment, she'd wondered if she was asexual, or going through some kind of weird early menopause. First the sudden exhibitionist streak, then the desperate focus on money...and then the endless arousal and total lack of interest in finding a man to take care of it for her.

It's probably just my birth control being strange, she'd told herself, and not thought about it any further.

But now...this sudden animalistic desperation to be fucked. She felt like a creature in heat, willing to take any cock that she could get.

What's happening to me? she briefly wondered, but then the music shifted, and her focus went back to what she was doing with her body...and how the audience was reacting to it.

"Yessss..." she whispered, unable to hold it back. Several men were throwing money at the stage, and she knew what that meant. They wanted her.

They all wanted her.

And tonight, they would have her.

###

"So when did they catch you?" I asked, trying to sound as sympathetic as possible.

"About halfway through my shift," Ashley replied, blowing her nose on the tissue I'd just handed her. "I must have fucked a dozen guys before someone told the manager what I was up to."

At once? I wanted to ask, but I knew I couldn't. She trusted me, but asking too many questions was sure to raise her defenses. Instead, I just smiled, and for a moment my sister glanced up at me.

I tried to keep my gaze as innocent as possible, but I needn't have worried. It wasn't a look of suspicion that she was throwing in my direction...it was one of lust.

It only lasted a second, and it immediately disappeared, but my heart leapt with joy. Even after being sacked and kicked out of the club, even after being escorted home by two police officers (whom I was certain she had tried to seduce), my sister still needed to be fucked.

And as the only male in the vicinity, she'd turned to me. Just for a second before the thought was gone, but it was working.

I was on the way.

***

It was lucky that I decided to log on and watch my sister's show that night.

If I hadn't, if I'd just gone to my bedroom (as I was thinking of doing) and waited for my sister to go to sleep so I could readjust her filing cabinet, I would have missed it.

But - as you can imagine - I was pretty turned on by the conversation we'd just had, by the image of my sister fucking half a dozen strangers at the club.

At the look she'd inadvertently shot me...and at the knowledge that all of it, all of it was because of me.

And so, unsurprisingly, I'd decided to jerk off. And when I heard the music coming from my sister's room, I knew exactly what I wanted to jerk off to: my sister's body, coming live from just a few feet away. She'd probably be breathily describing her night again, and hell...I was more than happy to jerk off to that.

Instead, when I logged on, I was surprised to find she'd changed the room's description. It normally read "Ashley's sexy dances" or "Ashley's hot room" (like I said, she's terrible at the marketing side of camgirling).

Tonight, it read "Want to fuck me? Make a bid - I'll cum to you."

No!

No no no no no.

No.

I leapt out of bed, and ran straight into the filing cabinet room. I was in such a hurry that I left the door open - if anyone had walked into the hallway, they would have had a clear sight of me, frantically flipping through dusty files in a mysterious room that none of us had ever been inside before.

Fortunately for me, no one did, but jesus. What could have happened that night still gives me chills.

As soon as I got to 'Sex', I moved it back to approximately where I'd originally found it. At some point, when I was the one Ashley was having sex with, I'd move it back up to the front of the cabinet...but for now, I was more than happy with my sister having a normal, healthy sex drive.