A New Life Training

I was fucked. But I hoped that it would finally give me the motivation to stay clean.

I heard a ping from my email. Dragging myself out of bed and to the computer, I pulled up an email, and saw it was from Master Brian to my personal account. All it included was a hyperlink, followed by a smiley face. Tentatively, I clicked on the link. Xtube opened to a video that required a password. I immediately Skyped Master, but he declined the call. I tried again with the same result.

The next five minutes were agonizing. Who was seeing what? What had I allowed myself to get into?

I finally received a message from him that said, 'the password is "I am a fag" I is capitalized.' Fuck, this guy did not ever let up; every chance he had, he was demeaning.

I unlocked the video. The first thing I noticed were the stats-- it had been watched thirty-five times... I started to cry. I hit play.

Fuck, it was the video of me looking wantonly into the camera. I then confessed I wanted to be his porn star, and that I gave him consent to publish any material he made.

Laughing, he said that I still had much to learn. Leaning back, he said, "You're not a porn star, nor a cam-bro. You are a cam whore. Your job is to make money, you're not going to be a leech anymore. You're going to start making money, paying some rent, and the rest is mine to put into your training. Now, go again."

He had molded me into the perfect ventriloquist doll; I was saying everything he asked me to. I had lost all control. I begged him to make me a cam whore, to teach and train me on film; documenting my slide down into becoming a cum-pig cam-whore. He loved every minute of it, encouraging me every step of the way.

Next, he sent me a Google Docs sheet, which had all of my accounts in the left column-- Gmail, X, Recon, my bank, and eight more social sites. I felt sick. I would never give this information to anyone. I started to protest and then felt a buzz. Looking, I had been tagged in a photo, a blurry photo for sure, but you could tell it looked like bodies. I felt sick. I begged him to take it down.

Ten minutes later, the image had been removed, but all of my private information was now in the hands of someone I had never met in person. Within minutes of me replying, I was locked out of my world and could only hope and pray they were not destroying me as a person.

I had never been harder. I was so confused by this boner. Why the fuck was I always getting hard during these humiliating escapades? Next, they demanded access to my phone and computer; using parental software, they took over. I had restricted profiles installed, and my access was revoked to all dating and hookup apps.

My master made me new X and Facebook profiles, and each had only one friend... my real account. They wanted me to see what they were doing, that I could not stop it. Next, came a demand-- my password to my secured folder they had found on my Google Drive. I had no choice but to grant them access to all of my content audio, photo, and video. They then had two years worth of me, debasing myself.

I felt so low; right where they wanted me. They had downloaded all of my content. I was no longer in control; for the first time in twenty-eight years, I had no control over myself... and I secretly loved it. And I was not ready for what came next.

I didn't know who could be ready for that. But the first thing he did was to get me to make a video, giving him consent to post anything anywhere; then I had to show him my toy collection and my stolen athletic gear. He then clarified that there would be no money exchanged as was agreed to in my limits; however, any money from my content was his to keep, but he promised to put it into further training and toys for me.

I didn't know what to say. I just said, "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Next, came confessions. I had to read out the articles and beg to be subjected to their cruel and deviant nature. They had me then confess the things I had done, including what I had done to Sam's gear. Master's delight could be heard when I confessed to licking my best friend's cup... removed from the jock, just a disgusting, yellowed cup.

Then, I had to relive it. Master had me get the cup and jock, had me close my eyes, and told me to describe Sam, to sexualize him. By the time I got to talking about his smell, I had instinctually brought the cup up like an oxygen mask. I breathed in deeply. Fuck, I loved the smell. I was so hard. Sir then commanded me to nut into an empty pill bottle, while huffing Sam's stank. I did my best, and before long, I was licking the inside of the cup while squirting out some shame into a small bottle. I had never cum that hard before, fully exposed for master. I thanked him for the experience.

Laughing, he told me to prepare for future sessions by only cumming into the bottle from then on. But to make it more difficult, the bottle needed to be in the freezer twenty-four-seven; only to be removed to add more seed. I protested that my roommates would find it, but he dismissed me, and instructed me to hide it in a bag in the back of the fridge.

I had passed all my drug tests for the last week! Nothing was exposed online. I had been getting more experience with toys and making content, but nothing worse than I had previously made. Sir's threats to expose me kept me in line. They used the obedience app to give me tasks, punishments, and rewards. I was monitored and controlled twenty-four-seven.

I no longer had time to do drugs. It was a miracle. I was uncomfortable, but everyone said they could see a difference. I was getting up and getting chores done; taking care of myself-- truly changed my day-to-day activities. This directly had an impact on me, but also Sam. He no longer felt like I was crawling down his neck all the time, which meant his teasing just got worse and worse... or was it better? I couldn't identify what I was feeling.

Sam would wrestle me to the ground and teabag me, rub his nuts on my face, plop them in my hand, by force make me compliment them, and eventually, after enough beer, he would play the game of balls in the mouth (golf ball cleaning machine more like it). How long could he shove them in there for? Fuck, I loved and hated these games.

Sam delighted in mind-fucking me, I thought. He would especially demean me in front of others; I was always embarrassed. He, on the other hand, reveled in my demise for some reason. It was turning him on. I could literally see, feel, hear the horniness in his voice, but he would always be so short with me, just making me feel used and humiliated like one of his pets. I was dehumanized by him, and then by his (my old) friends. I began to think that it became a game between them-- who could get me to do the grossest thing; which was won by Eian, when he forced me to lick his armpit on camera. I could not refuse, as he grabbed me by the balls, forced me into a headlock, and just yelled at me to do it. And I did. I would laugh it off, but I always felt humiliated. Sam loved every minute of it.

That night, we were to host a party. Sam said he wanted everyone to be at ease, and with my addiction, it would be better if I were to leave for the night. Just like that, he kicked me out, but he had a plan. Handing me a bag with what he said was an overnight pack, he led me outside to a waiting Uber. Getting in, he said he was sending me to stay with a trusted friend to make sure I was okay and would not relapse. He wanted to watch over me so much, I was always impressed with how far he would go.

As we started to drive, I pulled out my phone just as the voicemail that was to change my life forever came in. It was my master. "Congratulations on taking one of the final steps in your transformation. This car is bringing you a remote location where you will finally get to serve me in person. You're a pig now, and need to understand your place. No longer should you even think of anyone but your alphas, and what makes them happy. Your driver will be pulling over in twenty minutes in a remote part of the woods. You are to strip down naked, put on what he gives you, and crawl into the trunk. You're lucky we had time to put in cushions. You will then be transported to a cabin deep in the woods which has been outfitted for your training. For the next seventy-two hours, you will learn what it means to serve a real man. You have nothing to go back to as yourself, so just accept that change is necessary."

Then popped up a three-way message between Sam, Master, and myself. Five photos came through-- me sniffing Sam's jocks; me licking his cup; me sucking on the jock; me sucking on the singlet; then finally me in the singlet, the jock over my face with a cum stain on the front. I was speechless.