Madison stared blankly at her computer screen. She was wearing a pair of tight destroyed jeans and a t-shirt that she had quite literally cut in half so that almost her whole midriff was exposed. She never wore the shirt anywhere but to bed, but she did quite like sitting in her bedroom, looking at herself in the mirror, and thinking about how much of a slut she had become, even if nobody saw her in it.
"Well done, Madison," began the message from her blackmailer. "You really outdid yourself with that video. I knew it would be arousing, but you really went all out. You humiliated yourself far more than I instructed or even anticipated - I suppose there really isn't any stopping you when you get horny enough, is there?"
Madison read the message, looking for her next task. She had truly begun to accept that her fate was to be an exposed, humiliated webslut, shown off online for the world to see, with her real name and city, just waiting for her entire world to get turned upside down the instant she was recognized by someone she knew.
It wasn't mere acceptance, however. Madison was regretful at times about what she had become. In fact, most of the time when she wasn't aroused by her own behavior, she was humiliated and ashamed of herself. She sat in class wearing a slightly more revealing top than usual and felt ashamed. She ate lunch with her friends and sat there feeling regretful about what her life had turned into.
But, every time she thought about changing her ways, two things happened - first, she became fearful that her mystery blackmailer would really follow through with his threats. Second, she would eventually become so aroused that she couldn't help herself. She wanted more and she knew it. She was helpless to stop herself. And the more she began to accept it, the less she tried to overcome it. She knew she needed the addictive rush brought about by digging herself into an ever deeper hole, an ever expanding web of humiliation that could only end with her own ruination. And the more she felt that addictive rush, the more she craved it, regardless of the consequences.
Over the next several weeks, Madison completed several tasks. First, she had blindfolded herself and stood nude in front of her bedroom window for ten minutes. It was not the most difficult task except, of course, if anyone she knew happened by the window, it would have been quite embarrassing, although she would not have known, because her instructions were to make a video of it and not to remove the blindfold until she had waited ten minutes, masturbated to orgasm, and closed the curtains.
Of course, Madison filled the bulk of her several minutes of masturbation with dirty talk, begging out loud for any potential onlookers to call her a slut, watch her, humiliate her, and expose her.
After that, Madison had written "I will fuck anyone" in large letters on her stomach and worn fairly normal attire - jeans and a sweater that only gave a peek of her stomach and did not reveal the words written on her body - to a grocery store. She had been instructed to place her phone on one side of an aisle, raise he sweater to expose the writing, hold it for ten seconds, and replace her sweater. She did this, as instructed, at three locations in the store.
"I will fuck anyone," she told the camera. "I mean, I know it's not exactly true, but like - if someone saw me like this, I - it would be - I would die!" She continued, "And I would get off so hard." In fact, she got so horny she unbuttoned her jeans in the car and removed her sweater for the ride home, filming herself as she talked to the camera the entire time, occasionally flashing her nipples. She talked about how she needed this - needed the humiliation and exposure, how she needed to be a slut, how she thought in that moment that she really would fuck, literally, anyone.
Yet another task took Madison to the school library, where she sat in a short skirt and no panties and flashed the camera five times, for thirty seconds each, in between stacks of books before giving her breasts, with the words "public fucktoy" and "exposed slut" written on them, ten smacks each with a ruler. She repeated this five times as well before begging to be ruined and exposed once again, sending the video to her blackmailer immediately afterward.
And yet another time, Madison was instructed to go shopping with a butt plug shoved up her ass, which she did before masturbating in her car. The video, including her insertion of the plug in a mall restroom, was a half hour long.
Finally, warmer weather arrived, and with it, the moment Madison both feared and wished for - the moment when she would be instructed to engage in a humiliating video session in class.
"Hello again, Madison," the message began. "It's good to see that you have been keeping up with your task assignments so well. You have been doing so well, in fact, that I think I need to raise the difficulty a bit.
With that being said, your attire for this task will be as follows: a v-neck crop top, the hemline of which may be no longer than the point halfway between the bottom of your breasts and your bellybutton. The color does not matter. You will wear jeans, and they may be slightly high-waisted, but your pierced navel must be exposed along with at least two fingers' width below it. You may wear a cardigan or jacket but may not button, zip, or otherwise close it to obscure your midriff at any time. Your bra and shoes are your choice. Your ass will be plugged and I want video proof of this.
After you have dressed yourself as instructed, you will record yourself as you lift up the hem of the top and write the word "slut" in one inch letters, the bottoms of which shall be no more than the width of your pinky finger higher than the bottom hem of the top when it is in its ordinary position.
You will then attend class wearing this attire, with the word "slut" barely covered and your ass plugged. When you arrive in class, you will remove the cardigan/jacket and leave it off for the duration of the class. You will record yourself walking to class and removing the cardigan/jacket. You will excuse yourself during class to go to the restroom in the classroom building and masturbate to orgasm with the top raised to expose the writing on your body. You will record yourself as you exit the classroom, walk to the restroom, masturbate, and return to class.
Once you begin to masturbate, you cannot stop for any reason, including, but not limited to, the entrance of another person into the restroom. You may masturbate inside a stall. You must use the word "slut" out loud at least once per minute until you are finished. Once your class ends, your task is over, except that you must record yourself exiting the building.
Good luck, and I have no doubt that you will enjoy yourself."
Madison froze. "Oh my God - I can't do that!" She thought. "Go to class wearing - THAT? With slut written on my stomach? Barely covered? Holy shit, what if my top rides up? What if someone hears me? What if - shit, what if -" There were so many what ifs, Madison could hardly consider them all.
Madison legitimately did not know if she could bring herself to go through with it. She spent most of the rest of the day, when she wasn't busy with something else, dwelling on the task she had been commanded to perform. "This is crazy," she thought. "And the really crazy part is, I go to class and I sit there looking innocent, well - I mean, more innocent than I actually am, and - deep inside of me I know I'm exposed all over the internet, and I never really know who knows about me, but I try to keep it a secret from everyone."
She thought about what would happen if she went through with it. And, of course, she thought about what would happen if she didn't. She thought about the blackmailer, sitting behind his (or her) computer screen, sending links to the video proof of all of her filthiest exploits to her friends, maybe even her family.
Madison seriously considered messaging her blackmailer and begging him to reconsider. Perhaps she would offer to do something in private, but more extreme in other ways? Or she could offer to do something more humiliating, in a public place, but somewhere far away from campus where she would not be recognized. Somewhere where her professors, at least - the very people who would eventually be recommending her for a teaching job - would not see her dressing and acting like a trollop.
However, she also knew that she could likely pull off the task without being caught - it would be humiliating, sure, but if she acted carefully, she wouldn't expose the writing on her body or get caught masturbating. Finally, she knew that the idea, as crazy as it was, was arousing to her, and there was definitely a part of her that craved the risk she was taking for the sake of her own arousal. At last, she decided not to beg for another task.
"I'm really fucked," she thought as she sat and considered her predicament the following day. "Either I go to class dressed like a complete slut, risk my shirt riding up and everyone seeing the word slut written on my body, risk someone hearing me call myself a slut while I fuck myself in the school bathroom - or I risk having people I know find out all about me."
Of course, there was a part of Madison which was genuinely enjoying the situation, and that part was seemingly growing by he hour. Finally, two days after she received the message, she could not take it anymore.
"What if I - I just dress up and pretend," she said out loud. She already had on jeans that fit the blackmailer's orders, and she quickly went to her closet and pulled out a short, white crop top matching the remainder of the order, along with a long, olive green cardigan. In a matter of seconds, she pulled off her T-shirt and replaced it with the crop top.
"Slut," she said out loud as she grabbed a marker. Lifting up her top slightly, she meticulously scribbled the four letters onto her tanned flesh. She stood before her mirror and placed her arms behind her head, causing her shirt to ride up and the letters to become visible. "Slut," she continued, "what if someone sees me like this? What if I secretly want them to?"
At that moment, seeing herself dressed in that outfit, she knew there was no going back. "God, I'm fucked," she said out loud. "And the fucked up thing is, I actually want this. I actually want to be forced to do this. And I know that I'm just giving him more material to use, to force me to do even more, and God, I want that too. I asked for this and I got it and I want more."
