Mart 30, 2024

Influencer to Sex Slave Ch. 00 – Prologue

ile admin


Author’s note: This is erotic fantasy and completely fictional. The main character, Jack, is a fictional, generic social media star / influencer, and is not a real person. As always, would love to get feedback in comments and messages.


For Jack, moving back to his hometown was risky, but something he really wanted to make work. He’d spent years building up his way as an influencer across social media and he always had a distinct charm and a decent following. A lot of the influencer business is centered around LA, where you can connect with agents and sponsors, film sunny videos, and have a place to spend the ridiculous salaries young adults like Jack pull in. But as much as he tried, he never felt at home in LA… he really just wanted somewhere he could have a large home, have family around, find a normal girlfriend, and be away from all the drinking and the partying. Hence his move back home, where he got a house, dog and girlfriend, and tried to keep up his career.

His popularity has been hurting some though, and so at his agent’s urging he is back in LA for a week to try and collab with some Youtubers, film some fresh videos, and have an excuse to take some shirtless beach photos. Jack prides himself on his prudeness, and likes to think he has a following for her personality and wit, but he can’t deny every shirtless photo he posts gets way more likes than anything else, and his agent won’t let him forget it.

He had just landed that evening, grabbed his favorite meal at Chipotle, and checked into his Airbnb. It was a gorgeous one bedroom in Santa Monica, and they left a welcome basket on the table including a bottle of wine.

Jack was raised properly and taught to never break the law, so he had never even had a sip of wine until he recently turned 21. He thought back on his 21st birthday, celebrated with his family of course, and the amazing BBQ and delicious cake thy got him. At the end of the evening, his mom poured her usual glass of red wine, and poured a little half-glass for Jack too. Although he thought it tasted horrible and bitter, he felt so much like an adult drinking it with his parents.

Feeling lonely in the large apartment, and missing his family, he decides he’ll have an evening glass of wine like his mom always does. He finds a wine bottle opener and fumbles with the bottle in the kitchen. Some of the cork falls into the bottle when he opens it, which he’s not sure if that’s normal or not, but he pours a glass.

His phone vibrates over on the couch and he heads over and sits down.

“How’s LA? <3" his girlfriend has texted him. “It’s okay, same as always. Miss u,” he sends back. “Be good, that’s a crazy city.” “haha I always am babe. I left here for a reason. I’m just staying in tonight.” He wasn’t really paying attention and had finished the wine while he was texting. This one went down smoother. Are there different kinds of wine? He wonders. He doesn’t realize that he’s a bit buzzed and figures another glass is fine. He spends the next hour like he spends most of his downtime… on social media. He responds to a couple of Instagram comments and posts a story of his Airbnb to let everyone know he arrived safely in LA. He’s been doing this for so many years now that it feels so normal to him to report all his whereabouts to his followers. Very little of his life is private. He does make sure the wine isn’t visible in the video though. His agent has been over this a million times with him: his entire brand niche is about him being innocent. No swearing, no alcohol or partying, and be smart about sexy photos. Being shirtless on the beach is totally fine, because even Christian guys take their shirts off on a hot day at the ocean! But anything with underwear needs to be carefully run by his agent for approval, and it’s usually just the waistband showing. Even then, his followers always latch on to the pictures right away Gaziantep Otele Gelen Escort and he gets shared around all sorts of “sexy guys” Tumblrs and Instas.

A few minutes later he checks back in on his story. It’s doing okay, but he still doesn’t get the viewer count he used to. He’s been steadily losing followers since moving out of LA, probably because he just has less things happening in his life to post about.

The second glass of wine is really hitting him. Which makes sense since he’s light and has no tolerance. He’s nostalgically thinking about the burst in views and attention he’s gotten from his underwear pictures, and is feeling desperate for surge of attention tonight. Stardom has really gotten to him, and he’s craving the ton of followers he used to get with every post.

“Fuck it,” he says out loud. He only ever curses in private, so this gives him a bit of a rush in addition to the wine swirling around inside him. He stands up, pulls off his jeans and shirt, and heads into the bedroom where there is a full-length mirror. He’s taken so many selfies for the internet that he has his system down, and quickly identifies the right level of lighting, and how to angle his body.

Looking himself over, he’s feeling pretty good. He’s been gyming pretty regularly, and it shows in his abs and biceps. He desperately wishes he had any amount of chest hair, but his body hair is relegated to his armpits, some on his legs, and his pubes, none of which he has ever had to shave or trim.

Right as he’s about to take the photo he realizes he’s wearing plain black briefs, and he can do better. He ruffles through his bag and pulls out the one of the few decent pairs of underwear he has with him, and quickly changes. At this point he’s starting to get hard, and he has to shuffle around the bulge in the tight underwear so its not noticable.

He takes a quick Snap of himself in the mirror and publishes it. Usually every social media post takes a bunch of tries to get perfect, but he’s feeling impulsive and doesn’t give this one a second thought.

He hops onto the bed, wearing just his underwear, eyes glued to his phone. Each view he gets on his Snapchat story gets him excited. Hopefully people forward it around and earn him some more followers.

He’s surprised to catch himself absentmindedly stroking his cock through the tight briefs. He’s never had sex (waiting for marriage of course), but he also tries really hard to stay true to God and not masturbate. It makes him perpetually horny though. He’s constantly thinking about sex, imagining everyone naked, and getting hard out in public. Now that he’s drunk, laying in bed, and in his underwear, there isn’t much hope of resisting. It’s been about three months since he last failed at his abstinence, and already from the mindless stroking a pool of precum is forming.

Before he can stop himself, he flips over to his phone’s web browser and types “porn” into Google. He’s now past the point of no return, his underwear is off and he’s rigorously stroking his 5 inch cock (which is just oozing precum), while he watches a vanilla porn video of a hunky guy fucking this woman in a bed.

Another reason jacking off makes him feel so shameful is, he always finds himself focusing on the man in the videos. This guy has a huge cock that looks super hot and Jack wants to see it better, so he fast-forwards the video to where the woman is blowing him at the end. The man cums all over her face, and Jack is getting close, imagining his own, cute face getting covered with the man’s cum. He sticks out his tongue, fantasising about it, as his breathing gets faster and he instinctively pumps his hips up and down.

But right before he climaxes for the first time in three months, he’s interrupted by a Facetime call. This snaps him out of his lustful trance and he instantly feels dirty and gross for the gay thoughts he was having. He sits up, tries to compose himself, and answers on the last ring.

“Hey bro you’re in LA again! Me and the crew are going out tonight want to come?”

Jack recognizes Bryan, but he barely knows him. Bryan is one of the many wannabe Youtube stars, who lives in LA desperate to meet other famous influencers to latch on to. Jack met him at an influencer networking event and liked him at first, but eventually the constant messages to hang out and “maybe collab” made him realize he was just trying to use him.

“Uh hey man, you know going out isn’t really my thing.”

Even as Jack says it though, he’s thinking that if he stays home there is no way he won’t go back to jacking off thinking of men cumming on his face. Maybe it would be good to go out until late, come home and just pass out, and wake up more in-control tomorrow.

“Bro you could never come out before because you refused to get a fake like everyone else in LA, but you’re 21 now! You have no excuse.”

The impulsiveness of the alcohol contributes to it too, and Jack gives in. Bryan is so completely stoked and texts over the address they’re pregaming at. Jack rushes around the Airbnb, pulling back on his precum-soaked briefs, throwing on some wrinkled dress clothes from his bag, and calls an Uber.

The next morning, Jack wakes up around noon. He lays in bed for a minute with his eyes closed, because the sunlight coming in hurts his head, and tries to remember what happened the night before.

His phone is vibrating over and over, so he finally gives in, opens his eyes, sits up, and fumbles around for it. He has tens of missed calls, hundreds of texts from his agent, and thousands of Instagram, Youtube, and Snapchat notifications. He opens up his texts first.

“WHAT THE FUCK JACK” his agent had texted him at 6am. Followed by, “you need to delete your story asap,” then, a bunch of messages and a couple hours later, “We’re through. You just exploded everything we worked on. You think you can get a network deal still after that?”

Now Jack is panicking. His agent has been upset before. Is this just about the underwear selfie? Because that seemed pretty harmless. But the next thread is his girlfriend.

“We’re over i can’t believe you did this.”

Shit! What? He opens up his Snapchat.

As he clicks through his story, he gets a play-by-play of his night, and memories start to come back to him. He went to the pregame and was convinced to take shots, and then they Ubered to some club where they got in right away. There are selfie videos of Jack on the dance floor, singing loud, looking drunk, and making a fool of himself. Then more shots at the bar…

Then it abruptly cuts to the Airbnb he’s staying in. Jack is panning the camera around to show off the gorgeous living room and the view at night. And in the last second of the story he turns the camera towards a man. Did he invite people back last night?

The guy is hot, maybe mid-30s, who is tall, buff, and looks kind of similar to the man from the porn the evening before. Uh oh… Jack vaguely remembers seeing this guy at one of the bars and approaching him. The guy called him a “pretty boy” (he had liked that) and asked if he was gay, and Jack thinks he mentioned something about not being sure, but it’s all kind of blurry.

The next snap is from the guy’s perspective, filming Jack. Jack is standing in the middle of the living room with a big, goofy drunk smile, his eyes glazed and his hair messy. “Go on with it!” commands the man, and Jack starts to do a slow, pathetic strip tease. He unbuttons his shirt, revealing his smooth chest, and then pulls down his jeans and kicks them off. His bulge is visibly pulsing in his underwear.

In the next snap he’s on his knees with his arms behind his head, still in his unbuttoned shirt and underwear, and the man’s cock enters the frame. Watching it now, Jack gets some memories back of being totally in awe of it – he had never seen another cock in-person, and this guy was massive and rock-hard. And in the video Jack visibly loves in. He eyes the approaching cock and instinctively opens his mouth like he’s seen the women do in videos.

“Nice, boy,” the man says, and in the last second of the snap he pushes his cock into Jack’s mouth.

That’s the end of the Snap story, and the rest of the night is a blur, but when Jack looks down at his body he’s shocked to see dried cum all over his chest (his own?) and on his face and in his hair. And despite the feeling of sinking dread in his stomach, he’s rock-hard in his Diesel underwear.

Still in bed, Jack spends the next few hours attempting to do damage control. He deletes the story, but it was too late – already when he Googled his name the first thing that came up were screenshots of him, on his knees in his underwear, mouth open wide ready to receive a cock. He tries to call his girlfriend but she refused to answer, and his mom keeps it short (“I think you should just stay in LA,” and then she hung up). His agent tells him, “There are no ‘options’ to talk about. You’re no longer my client. Good luck to you.” And his social media is out of control. Many of his fans unfollowed him, and the ones who remained are just the creepy old men who have always been lurking. Judging from the comments, they loved the new direction he had taken.

It’s been hours and he needs a break. He still has dried cum and sweat all over his body, so he strips off the underwear and climbs into the shower. He stands under the hot water for a long time trying to think, and his mind starts to wander from the consequences, to the events themselves the night before. Most of the night is a blur, but he thinks about the guy’s commanding voice from the videos, and his massive cock going towards his throat. He’s hard again, and starts stroking his soaped-up cock. As fucked up as things are, it still turns him on to know he serviced someone well last night.

After finishing and drying off he walks naked out into his living room for the first time that day, and is shocked to find he is not alone in the Airbnb. The man from the club is lounging on the couch in his underwear (looking amazing), watching the TV on silent with captions, and eating Jack’s leftovers.

“Hey boy! You’re finally awake! Get your naked ass over here,” and he pats the couch next to him.

Jack just mindlessly obeys, nervously getting on the couch under the guy’s arm.

“What’s your name? I barely remember last night,” Jack says. He is immediately slapped across the face.

“You are to always call me Sir, do you understand boy?”

“Y-yes sir,” Jack nervously corrects himself.

“Now tell me about yourself. Do you go to college around here?”

Jack spills everything. As he’s filling him in on his backstory, the man searches his name on his phone and sees all the gossip articles published about him. He has a huge grin on his face, which unnerves Jack.

“Ha boy, you have really done yourself in, huh?”

“But why did you have to record me, sir?”

The man erupts in laughter.

“Your horny, drunk ass approached me at a straight bar and started hitting on me. Then after you invited me back here it was your idea to hand me your phone to record us. I didn’t realize you were some minor celebrity – I just assumed you were some slutty twink who had a following on Snapchat and did this all the time.”

Jack sits there processing. This is really all his fault. The man continues, patting Jack on his bare shoulder.

“I think you wanted all of this to happen – it just took some liquor to bring it out.”

Jack thinks he’s right…

“I just don’t know what to do now, sir. I have a mortgage and a ton of credit card debt. Without Youtube ad money and the network gig I was trying to get I can’t pay off any of that.”

“I think I’m well-off enough to take care of that, but it won’t come cheap. You’d need to be really desperate and down to whore yourself out a lot more.”

“Anything,” Jack answers.