This is a story about how a rich, handsome jock turned into a toilet fag and a cheap whore for the homeless and beggars. Tharun is a handsome jock, aged 26, with a height of 185 cm and a weight of 80 kg. He has a muscular, gym-toned body and an olive skin tone, resembling a Bollywood hero. He completed his studies in London and returned to Chennai to look after his father's business. His dad is a local politician and businessman. Although he is not much into politics now, Tharun is managing his father's construction business. As a young businessman and the son of a local politician, he enjoys his life through pub parties and similar events. He never knew that his life was about to change drastically in the coming week.It was December 31, 2023, New Year's Eve. I, Tharun, was getting ready for a New Year's party at a hotel near Sholinganallur. As I was leaving the house, my dad advised me to behave properly for the next couple of months because an election was coming up, and he didn't want any bad publicity. My father is a hardcore politician who always wants to be in power. If anything stands in his way, he won't hesitate to destroy it, even if it's his own son. After receiving strict advice from my father, I left for the party. Once I reached the pub, I started looking for my friends, who were already high and had lost consciousness. Instead of wasting time with those pathetic losers, I began searching for a hot chick to hook up with and celebrate the New Year. I found a girl sitting alone at the bar; she was cute and alluring, looking like a Greek goddess in a tight black dress. I was turned on by her appearance and approached her. As I flirted with her and won her over with my charm, we both took a room in the same hotel. Once inside the room, she insisted that we should have some intense fun. She gave me some tablets, assuring me not to worry, saying they were just molly and to take some and enjoy. I took the tablet, and we started making out. After a few minutes, I began feeling dizzy and losing consciousness. When I woke up, I was lying naked on the room's floor, surrounded by numerous used condoms. I felt exhausted but managed to get up and search for my clothes. As I was dressing, I experienced enormous pain in my backside and wondered why. Suddenly, my phone started ringing; it was my mom. Since it was the New Year, she wanted me to go to the temple and be home on time. I got ready quickly and looked around the room—it was messy, with used condoms on the floor and wet bedspreads. I assumed I had a great night. I should have gotten that girl's number; it was her loss.Once I reached home, my mom gave me a silk dhoti and shirt, telling me to get ready for the temple as soon as possible. I prepared and went to the temple with my entire family. While there, I received a WhatsApp message saying "Hi, HRU?" from an unknown number. I replied, "Who is this?" They responded, "Did you forget me within 8 hours? No way." Oh my God, it was the black dress girl from the previous night's party. I must have given her my number and forgotten about it. I replied, "Yes, babe, how could I forget you?" She sent me a one-time view video message. Suddenly, my mom scolded me to switch off my phone since we were in the temple. I was eager to view that message, certain it would be 18+ content. I waited to get home. Once there, I went to my room, connected my AirPods, and checked the one-time view video. When I played it, I couldn't believe my eyes. It wasn't what I expected; it was a video of me being assaulted by three masked men. I zoned out, unsure of what to do. I was shivering but knew I shouldn't reveal that to her. I texted her back, "Bitch, how dare you? Do you know who I am? Delete that video and get away. I may spare your life. Don't dare play with me." I waited for her reply; 15 minutes passed without her seeing my message. After 20 minutes, I received a reply—she sent only a laughing emoji. How dare she? I texted, "Bitch, you don't know who you're playing with." She replied, "Bitch, me?" and sent another video of me performing oral sex on a man, texting, "Who's the bitch now? I don't care who you are. Don't try to play that alpha shit with me. After seeing this video, do you think of yourself as an alpha? 😂😂 Shit, this doesn't look like your first time. Have you been a fag abroad while you studied there?"My blood pressure soared; I didn’t know what to do. I was screwed. If this video spread online, my dad would definitely kill me. I needed to act before anyone found out. I replied, "How much money are you looking for? What's the deal? Tell me, and I'll settle it." She responded, "You spoiled brat, that’s not what I’m after. I have great plans." How dare she? No one had ever spoken to me like that. I replied, "Fuck you, do what you want." She responded, "Is that your wish? Then I’ll do the same."Oh my God, what had I done? What was she going to do now? My head was spinning, and I was sweating like a pig. Ten minutes later, she replied, "Check your mom’s phone. I hope she’ll be proud to see her son getting fucked by three men at once." That bitch! I hadn’t changed since returning from the temple, still in my silk dhoti, sweating profusely, and looking like a mess. I rushed toward my mom’s phone to delete it before she saw it. I reached downstairs and looked for her; she was in the kitchen preparing lunch. I asked for her phone, and she said it was charging in the bedroom. She asked why, and I said I was just looking for a contact number. She questioned why I hadn’t changed and if I was okay, noticing my sweating. I assured her everything was fine and went straight to the bedroom, took her phone, and returned to my room. When I checked WhatsApp, as the girl had said, she’d sent the video to my mom. I deleted it and blocked the contact on her phone. Then I texted the girl from my phone:Me: "Why are you doing this? What do you want? Please leave me alone."
She: "What? Just a few minutes ago, you told me to do as I wish, and now you’re asking why?"
Me: "Please, what do you need? I’m ready to do anything. Don’t send this to anyone."
She: "Oh boy, that’s a big promise. Are you ready to do anything?"
Me: "Yes, I will."
She: "I want you to be my sex slave."
Me: "What? A sex slave? Are you out of your mind? I can’t. I’m from a reputable family; my dad is a famous politician and businessman, and I’m the MD of a construction company. If you need money, I can give it, but not this. Are we in the medieval period or something, looking for slaves?"
She: "Cut the crap. I know who you are. If you want to keep that reputation, be my slave. If not, think about what happens if the video leaks. How will your family react?"
Me: "Please don’t. I’m ready to give the money you need, but not this."
She: "I don’t need money. I’ll give you 15 minutes to think about it and tell me if you’re in or out. If you’re not ready, I’ll send this video to your younger brother and his friends. I hope he’ll be happy to see you, his bitch, getting screwed by men. And think about what happens if it gets into the hands of your father’s opponents. They’ll definitely make a poster out of it."Oh my God, what was she doing? This would ruin my father’s career and destroy our entire family. What if my brother saw it? He looks up to me as a role model. How could I face him? I had no other option for the time being; I had to say yes to her. Once the election was over, I’d deal with her.Me: "Please don’t do this. I’ll be your slave."
Her: "That’s a good boy. And I’m not that chick you met yesterday; she’s a hooker. I’m your master, Dinesh. You’ll address me as Sir or Master from now on."Fuck, what was happening? What had I gotten myself into? Who was he, and why was he doing this to me? I had no options left; I had to play along for now. I’d show him who I was after the election.Dinesh: "Are you there, slut?"
Me: "Yes."
Dinesh: "Bitch, don’t dare answer me with one word. I’m your master now. Address me as Sir in every conversation. Do you understand?"
Me: "Yes, Sir."
Dinesh: "Good. Now I’m going to give you your first task. Complete it in 5 minutes and send me proof."
Me: "What task? I can’t do it now; I’m kind of busy. And I won’t send any proof."
Dinesh: "Do I need to remind you of your position every time? You’re my slave now; do what I command, or be ready to face the consequences."
Me: "Sorry, Sir, please forgive me."
Dinesh: "Send me a video of you kneeling and begging me to accept you as a slave. You should be shirtless and write ‘Master Dinesh’s slut’ on your chest. Do it and send it to me in 5 minutes."What was he doing to me? I’m the MD of one of Chennai’s largest construction companies, and he wanted a video of me begging to be his slave? No way. I couldn’t do this; I couldn’t be a slave to a man and lose my self-respect.Me: "No, I can’t do this. Please leave me alone."
Dinesh: "Will you do this or not? What are you worried about? Think about your status when this fucking video gets shared with everyone in your contacts."
Me: "Please don’t do that."
Dinesh: "Fuck, then do what I say. And do I need to remind you about the salutations every time?"Fuck, what was I going to do? There was no way out; I had to do this shit for him. I searched for a marker in my room; I had only 4 minutes left. If I didn’t do this in time, that psycho might share my video. As he instructed, I wrote "Master Dinesh’s slut" on my chest and looked in the mirror—terrified, heartbroken, looking like a fag. In my school and college days, I treated many boys as sluts and fags. Now, I was half-naked, my dhoti drenched in sweat, marked as someone’s slut on my chest. What had happened to me? I knelt, recorded the video saying, "Please, Master Dinesh, accept me as your slave," and sent it as a one-time view.Dinesh: "Did I ask you to send a one-time view video?"
Me: "No, Sir."
Dinesh: "What should you do then?"
Me: "I’ll send it as a normal video, Sir."I sent him a normal video.Dinesh: "Good slave boy, this is just the beginning. I will train you and mold you. Happy New Year, dog."What more was to come? I couldn’t understand why he was doing this to me. Now he had two videos of me. If they leaked, no one would believe my words. I realized I was still kneeling and looked at myself in the mirror again—pathetic, like a fag. I couldn’t bear this humiliation. In frustration, I broke my mirror. I didn’t know what he planned to do next.
