WebCam
There are videos of me out there, I know that for sure. Even at the time it was happening, some of the guys I knew from the chat rooms I used told me as they'd seen clips of me being shared in forums and on peer to peer networks. And at the time I found that incredibly exciting. There were guys all over the world watching me, not just the ones who watched me live, but strangers, maybe in the thousands. I was famous, and it was thrilling.
It started when I was 11, when my mother's boyfriend bought me my own PC. It was a way of keeping me out of their way, I understood that, but I didn't mind at all. No-one else I knew at that point had their own computer, and though cell phones were around they hadn't become as ever-present as they are now. I immediately started watching and hoarding pornography - straight, softcore stuff at first, before moving onto more extreme material, including gay porn. I became addicted very quickly.
The idea to start performing on camera myself was entirely my own. I can't pin that on anyone else. I even shoplifted a webcam with that plan in mind. I know there were deeper psychological reasons, but more than anything I vividly recall wanting to somehow experience all those forbidden acts and sensations I was watching. That first night I tried several cam sites, and eventually found a Russian one which didn't need a login to broadcast. Within minutes I had over 70 viewers, and was receiving messages faster than I could read them. Despite that it was clear what they wanted me to do, and I didn't need any encouragement. I'd reached over 200 viewers in about 10 minutes when I was abruptly blocked.
One of the messages I'd received directed me to a chatroom, and after setting up an account and lying about my age I joined it. There were about a dozen people already in it, and unlike the Russian site where anyone could watch, they had to send a request to view me. Almost immediately I received one from the guy who had messaged me on the Russian site. He asked for a private show. More requests quickly followed, as well as invites to watch their cams. I didn't sleep at all that night, and suffered for it the next day at school when I could barely stay awake. It was a pattern that would play out for the next two years. I'd be on cam for hours almost every night, trying to survive on 2-3 hours sleep. I had several dozen "fans" I could almost rely on watching me on any given night, and many many more who would watch me anonymously. Some people tried to "save" me, but for every one of them there were more that encouraged me to keep going further. Others wanted to meet me in person, and though I was tempted I had at least a little sense, and I never went that far.
Like I said, when I heard that somebody had been recording me and sharing the videos I thought it was exciting at first. It was only after about 18 months that I started to seriously consider the possiblity that I might be identified, but even that didn't stop me for a while. In fact the thought that any stranger on the street might have seen me performing was at least as exciting as it was frightening. But eventually the fear got the upper hand. It wasn't overnight - I suppose I just gradually came to my senses.
Looking back almost 20 years later, my main focus has been what drove me, and dealing with the associated shame and guilt. The fear of being "found out" has receded, but it hasn't gone away entirely. And it's only recently that I've really started to think about those men who watched and encouraged me. Do I blame them? They certainly took advantage of my confusion and naivete, but was it really abuse?
I'm married now, with 2 young kids, and I've never spoken to anyone about this period of my life. But I'm starting to think I need to.
It started when I was 11, when my mother's boyfriend bought me my own PC. It was a way of keeping me out of their way, I understood that, but I didn't mind at all. No-one else I knew at that point had their own computer, and though cell phones were around they hadn't become as ever-present as they are now. I immediately started watching and hoarding pornography - straight, softcore stuff at first, before moving onto more extreme material, including gay porn. I became addicted very quickly.
The idea to start performing on camera myself was entirely my own. I can't pin that on anyone else. I even shoplifted a webcam with that plan in mind. I know there were deeper psychological reasons, but more than anything I vividly recall wanting to somehow experience all those forbidden acts and sensations I was watching. That first night I tried several cam sites, and eventually found a Russian one which didn't need a login to broadcast. Within minutes I had over 70 viewers, and was receiving messages faster than I could read them. Despite that it was clear what they wanted me to do, and I didn't need any encouragement. I'd reached over 200 viewers in about 10 minutes when I was abruptly blocked.
One of the messages I'd received directed me to a chatroom, and after setting up an account and lying about my age I joined it. There were about a dozen people already in it, and unlike the Russian site where anyone could watch, they had to send a request to view me. Almost immediately I received one from the guy who had messaged me on the Russian site. He asked for a private show. More requests quickly followed, as well as invites to watch their cams. I didn't sleep at all that night, and suffered for it the next day at school when I could barely stay awake. It was a pattern that would play out for the next two years. I'd be on cam for hours almost every night, trying to survive on 2-3 hours sleep. I had several dozen "fans" I could almost rely on watching me on any given night, and many many more who would watch me anonymously. Some people tried to "save" me, but for every one of them there were more that encouraged me to keep going further. Others wanted to meet me in person, and though I was tempted I had at least a little sense, and I never went that far.
Like I said, when I heard that somebody had been recording me and sharing the videos I thought it was exciting at first. It was only after about 18 months that I started to seriously consider the possiblity that I might be identified, but even that didn't stop me for a while. In fact the thought that any stranger on the street might have seen me performing was at least as exciting as it was frightening. But eventually the fear got the upper hand. It wasn't overnight - I suppose I just gradually came to my senses.
Looking back almost 20 years later, my main focus has been what drove me, and dealing with the associated shame and guilt. The fear of being "found out" has receded, but it hasn't gone away entirely. And it's only recently that I've really started to think about those men who watched and encouraged me. Do I blame them? They certainly took advantage of my confusion and naivete, but was it really abuse?
I'm married now, with 2 young kids, and I've never spoken to anyone about this period of my life. But I'm starting to think I need to.


