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I was poised for success since birth. Ever since primary school, I’ve been a jock; muscular, handsome, and strong. The leader of a pack. A cool guy.
So how did things end up like this?
It all started a couple weeks ago, while I was looking to bust a nut.
I’ve always been straight. Never even questioned that. Growing up, I had more than my fair share of girls, and dated many guys envied me for. I loved everything about them; their smell, their bodies, their warmth.
But over the last year, things began to cool off. It all started when I couldn’t finish inside Ashly, my most recent conquest. She was a petite cheerleader with a giant rack and was totally my type to boot. But I couldn’t finish, no matter how long we fucked.
So we started experimenting. Fetishes. Never really considered it before; started off light, some spanking, that kinda stuff. But before I knew it, it got more and more depraved, until I found the only way I could get off was fucking girls in public. It turned me on especially when I knew someone was watching.
It was a Thursday night. I wanted to swing by the sex club and have a fling with a girl, but I had assignments for college, and nobody went to clubs on thursdays. I tried to ignore it, but my dick just wouldn’t go down, so I browsed porn sites for something hot.
Nothing could get me in the mood.
At least, until I found the cam section.
I’d never checked out camshows before. Didn’t understand the point of it – why pay some slut to jerk off in front of a camera when you can watch a video? But I think that’s when it clicked. It was pure voyeurism, and I found some nice brown piece of ass to whack it to.
Since then, whenever I got the urge, camshows became my go-to.
But even that stopped working eventually.
My issue was this – as much as watching live sex was hot, doing it would be far hotter. I tried to convince my usual lays to join me, but nobody wanted to. Having sex in a private club was one thing, fucking in front of a camera was another.
That’s when I discovered the male section.
Never even thought guys would do solo cam sessions. Not that I tried looking, of course. Just figured if anyone wanted dick, they could easily get some off craigslist.
Somehow, I found myself buying a webcam for a solid thirty bucks. My heart was pounding the first time I turned it on.
I made sure my profile said I was fully straight, but that didn’t matter to most fags. I always thought it would turn me off, knowing there were dudes jerking off to me, but somehow it only turned me on more. Some kind of power trip.
I loved camming. I loved stroking my cock in front of a live audience – it was the hottest shit I’d ever done. At first, I only did it occasionally, maybe once a week for ten minutes or so, but soon it took over my life. Every night, I’d stream for a couple of hours, just wanking my cock for a couple dozen viewers.
It wasn’t long before I grew a little audience. I’m a modest guy, but honestly, I was pretty good looking. My body was fit from sports, and my dick… Well, maybe a little towards the small end, but it had a nice shade of pink, and girls thought it looked good.
It all started with a regular of mine – Robert67.
At some point I figured I could leech off some cash from these fags with the tip jar system. I made a couple of bucks, which was enough to buy me a free dinner usually. But I never pushed it further. I didn’t see this as a career, or even a hobby, just an odd way to get off.
But Robert had joined my chat as usual.
He commented once again, talking about how good looking my body was, how cute my cock was… I don’t know why, but compliments got me hard, even knowing it was from some fag. I thanked him as he tipped five bucks.
The reason I remembered him was that he spent a lot on tips.
Then came a question I didn’t expect – he asked: “Do you do requests?”
I asked him what he meant.
“Requests, kid,” he typed. “Like, do stuff for tips.”
I probably should’ve stopped there.
Instead, I just said sure. How bad could it be? I figured. I’ll just decline if this fag wants something buca escort too extreme.
“Nice,” he typed. “I’ll pay you five hundred bits if you flash me your ass.”
Five hundred bits.
That was fifty bucks – just for flashing my ass on stream?
I didn’t hesitate. It was just my ass, after all. Dudes have seen my ass all the time in locker rooms and shit. What’s the difference?
I turned around, and let him see it.
He sent me the bits, and I thanked him.
“Good little slut,” he typed as he sent it. “That’s a good boy. Nice bubblebutt you got there.”
Slut? Now, if anyone had told me this shit at a bar – I’d have caved the fucker’s jaw in. But this was on a camshow, and I… I don’t know, somehow, I didn’t feel as offended.
I didn’t really reply. Just finished off my session as usual. It didn’t take as long as usual, oddly; I came buckets within minutes of that.
After the show, I noticed I had a message in my inbox.
It wasn’t odd to get messages. Dudes sent me all sorts of shit all the time. Usually creepy dick pics. But this time…
Robert had sent me a pm.
“I’ll pay you another five hundred if you shave your pubes by the next stream,” it read.
I could hardly believe my eyes. Fifty bucks just for shaving my pubes?
I messaged him back, asking if he was serious. He confirmed quickly. I practically whistled my way to the store next day, when I picked up a razor kit.
I turned my stream back on that evening. I was surprised to see I got even more views than usual. There were more compliments, and people were talking about my “cute pink cock” in chat.
I… I should’ve felt more offended. I’m sure I would’ve, if I wasn’t camming. Or would I be?
It didn’t take long for Robert to show up.
A thousand hundred bits came, along with the message: “What a good boy you are, you deserve it.”
A hundred bucks! He’d given me a bonus. I hadn’t expected it. I thanked him happily, and went on with the stream. This one didn’t last long either.
Another message came when it ended.
It was from Robert again.
“Hey,” he wrote. “That was the hottest stream so far. I busted two nuts to your cute little cock there. I had a question for you.”
I asked him what he wanted.
“I was just thinking,” he sent. “How would you like to make some more money?”
I responded immediately, asking what he had in mind.
“Let’s do a private stream call,” he said. “I’ll pay you a hundred fifty bucks for each one.”
A hundred and fifty bucks… That was more than my usual monthly donations combined.
I asked him for more details and eventually settled for a thirty-minute call tomorrow.
Laying in bed that night, I was thinking about the money I was just about to make. A hundred and fifty in one evening. That was a day’s worth of wages in thirty minutes. And all I had to do was jerk off for this stranger.
All I had to do was to jerk off for some random faggot.
I jolted awake. What the fuck was I doing? I was being used like some cheap jizzrag for some disgusting perv. By some fucking faggot. I wasn’t even gay!
My heart pounded and it raced. I… I took some time to rationalize it. I wasn’t doing it for him, I was doing it for me. In fact, I wasn’t the loser here – he was, for wasting a hundred and fifty bucks. What a schmuck!
But the thing that scared me –
Was my raging hard-on as I drifted into sleep.
It was the next evening, when I sat in front of my camera in anticipation.
We’d agreed to a video call. I anxiously waited until he picked up – and after five rings, he finally did.
Shimmering on my screen was his camera feed.
Robert was… An older guy. Fifties, maybe. The dude had slowly graying hair, a full beard, and a fuller beer belly. His arms were chunky – as a sports guy myself, I knew he must’ve been a jock in school. He had that redneck trucker look going for him, and, admittedly, it suited him.
He was grinning – and naked. With his hard cock in hand.
It was big. Way bigger than mine, for sure. About seven inches – but his girth, that çağlayan escort was the special part. It must’ve been as thick as a beer can. His strong, calloused, hairy hands gripped his rod tightly.
He looked me over and uttered the words: “And where’s your face, boy?” His voice was thick and demanding, and it reminded me of a grizzled veteran.
I told him that wasn’t a part of the deal, and that I wasn’t comfortable with it.
“It is now,” he grumbled. “Show me your face, slut, or I’m calling this off.”
I tried to argue, but he just shot me down.
“Fine, then,” he did concede. “I’ll make it two hundred if you show me your face.”
Two hundred?
My face lit up. I… I figured, for the money it’s surely worth it. I hastily adjusted my camera, and told him he promised not to record anything.
“Sure, sure,” he said, his grin returning. “Cute face, slut. I knew you’d come around when I shove money up your dirty boycunt.”
I tried not to cuss – he could see me, after all. After a long silence, he spoke.
“You wanna get started or what?” he asked. “I’m dying to start wacking, boy. Don’t make daddy wait.”
I nodded, and started stroking my cock.
I thought I wouldn’t even be able to get it hard, watching another man on video while I jerked. But no, my dick was already diamonds after a gentle touch. And even though I promised thirty minutes, I came in just ten.
He looked satisfied, but he hadn’t cum yet.
“I still have twenty minutes,” he said. “I’m not paying for shit until I get my money’s worth.”
I sighed, and told him it was fine.
“Stare at my cock, boy,” he continued. “I paid for you. I better see you staring at my cock for the next twenty minutes or you can forget about your two hundred.”
I protested, of course.
“How about you flash me your ass, then? He suggested. “I’ll finish faster looking at your thick piece of meat. Hell, I’ll throw in another twenty.”
I…
I knew I should’ve stopped there.
But… Twenty was twenty, and, and…
I didn’t want to admit it…
But… But… It turned me on.
I… I shifted my body, with my ass facing the camera.
“Spread your legs, slut,” he groaned, as he stroked furiously. “I want to see that tight cunt of yours.”
I didn’t even say anything.
I just spread my legs, and…
My hand… It just moved, without even thinking, and held an asscheek up.
He smiled, as he shot his load all over his body.
I watched as the thick ropes of silky-white cum ruptured out of his cock, all over his body, covering his muscular chest, his fluffy belly, sticking into his manly body hair, stuff I never could grow…
And ended the stream right there, without saying goodbye.
Because – I didn’t want him to see –
My dick had become hard again.
He sent me a message afterwards, but I didn’t read it.
I just… Kinda crumbled into myself, and tried to forget about it.
For the next few days, I didn’t touch my computer.
He did send me two hundred and twenty bucks. I checked. I didn’t touch that either.
It scared me, all of this, especially at the end…
Mostly because as I tried to sleep every night…
I would remember that last scene, the final moment, when he climaxed… I remembered every last detail of it – his hard, thick cock – the tendrils of cum oozing…
And it made me hard, and I didn’t know why.
I went to the sex club with one of my friends with benefits for the first time in weeks one day. But even after an hour of foreplay… I couldn’t get it up. Not until I started thinking about camming, not until I started thinking about that.
But even then, I couldn’t finish.
So I drank, as most people did when they felt down.
I shouldn’t have done that.
In my drunken stupor, I grabbed my laptop, and turned on the cam site.
I noticed ten messages. All from Robert.
“We had an agreement,” he’d typed, as I read the latest one. “You said you’d do a stream a week, boy. Does daddy need to punish you?”
The deal was off, I messaged him çankaya escort angrily.
I didn’t expect to get a response so quickly.
He was calm and collected, and he said he just wanted to talk – and he requested a call.
I… I figured, finally, I can tell this fucker off, finally I can make fun of him for being a degenerate fag. So I accepted.
“We had a deal, son,” he said. “Once a week, and this week’s almost over. What’s it gonna be?”
I yelled at him. Told him this wasn’t worth it. That I hated doing it. That I wasn’t a fag like he was.
I expected him to get mad, to yell at me. That would’ve been perfect –
But he just laughed.
“That’s the funniest shit I’ve heard in awhile,” he grinned. “So you think you’re straight, boy? What kinda straight man jerks off for strange men online?”
I argued it was just for – money, yes, money.
“So you’re a fucking whore,” he said. ” You’re selling your body for money, son, that’s what fucking whores do. And you’re selling yours to men, so that makes you a faggot whore.”
I told him he had it wrong, he –
“Shut the fuck up, slut,” he yelled, without even listening. He was grinning like a hyena. “I know exactly what you are, you fucking faggot. You think I didn’t notice your tiny little cock getting hard? You think straight guys lift their asscheeks to expose their cunts?”
I just stared in silence.
“You’re a fucking fag,” he said. “A slut, even.”
He plainly and violently whipped his cock out.
“Now get your clothes off,” he said. “I want to bust a nut to your slutty body.”
That was the last time I had a chance to leave.
I could’ve ended the call there. I mean, what we had at most was a verbal agreement. He didn’t know who I was. There was nothing he could’ve done.
I must’ve known that, so why –
Why did I take my clothes off?
Why were my pubes shaved?
Why, oh why – did this turn me on?
His grin grew larger as he watched my hard cock flop out my loose pants. “I fucking knew it,” he laughed. “What a fucking faggot. We’ll make a fine slut out of you yet. Now get to jerking.”
I gripped my rod.
But he clicked his tongue. “Not like that,” he said. “A proper bottom slut doesn’t need to play with his clit. No, I want you to finger yourself.”
I meekly protested. It’s dirty, I said.
“Wash your finger.”
It’s too tight, I said.
“Use some soap.”
It hurts, I said.
“You’ll get used to it.”
I protested some more, until –
“Fine, then,” he sighed. “Fifty bucks, slut. Finger yourself. Don’t make me repeat it.”
I kinda just sat in silence, then left for a second.
I had a tub of vaseline I used for cuts after sport.
With it, I returned, and I slowly inserted a finger into myself.
“Good slut,” he said, with a wolfish grin. “God, what a hot piece of ass. I’d love to cum in that tight boycunt.”
I didn’t reply – I wasn’t really listening. My ass hurt like hell. It wasn’t used to things going in.
He kept jerking, though, even if my expression was more writhed in pain then pleasure. I think that turned him on even more.
It was moments later when I found my stride. It… It really didn’t hurt much. In fact, it was kind of an odd, but a good kind of odd, feeling.
At some point, I hit a certain spot, and – I moaned.
“Fuck,” Robert grunted. “You’re liking your ass-pussy, aren’t ya? Look at your tiny little clit, getting hard from playing with your faggot hole.”
I was barely listening. It… It felt so good, especially as I watched Robert, his thick, muscular arms pumping his veiny cock…
I just shoved a second finger in – and a third, then…
I came all over myself.
Robert finished soon after.
We both just kinda sat there for a minute, catching our breaths.
“Amazing,” he panted. “This was the best nut I’ve busted in years. I’ll see you next week, faggot.”
And the video cut.
I… I was dumbfounded. And perfectly sober. At some point, I sobered up. And I hadn’t stopped, even though I wasn’t drunk.
As I laid there, I had to come to terms.
Terms with the fact that I liked that had just happened.
And just out of a little curiosity –
Wishing, as little as I admitted it, that Robert was watching –
With a finger, I scooped up a bit of cum, and licked it.
The taste was salty, bitter, and delicious.