My husband is going to be a very lucky man
Priyanka thought as modeled her nude body in front of her mirror.
I'm going to have be careful not to give him a heart attack!
She struck another pose, admiring her flawless tan skin, full breasts and long black hair. Her small nose fit perfectly on her face, her skin the color of milky coffee. She turned and looked at her rear end.
I'm the greatest combination of brains and booty!
she thought with a smack on her butt.
She appraised herself again.
This needs to be documented.
She took out her cell phone and took a selfie. It was one of her riskiest habits, even though she always took care to make sure her face wasn't in the picture. If, God forbid, anyone ever found one of the pictures, they wouldn't be able tell it was her. She had even downloaded an app to hide the photos in a special password protected folder on her phone. She blew a kiss to the stunning woman in the mirror and then put her phone down and got dressed for class.
Despite being an American girl through and through, she still was bound by her Indian family's culture. Her parents would strongly disapprove of dressing like a regular American coed, so she dressed conservatively but fashionable, with high necked tops and sleeves, long pants or skirts. She couldn't wait until she could find a boy to marry and love with her body, but that would have to wait until at least medical school in two more years. For now, she had to focus on maintaining her grades, even if that meant suppressing her rampant desires while surrounded by temptation. If it weren't for her second risky habit, her morning and nightly ritual of self pleasure, she didn't know how she would be able to concentrate.
Priyanka, in fact, had little experience in the opposite sex. Her parents had all but forbidden dating. The closest thing she had to a relationship was a boy in high school whom she 'secretly' was seeing and who unceremoniously dumped her after getting only a hand job on their second 'date'. She had wanted to do more, she just wasn't willing to rush into things. Here at college, the boys had plenty of hot party girls to pursue, leaving Pri to focus on her studies. Her biggest source of how to interact with boys were Bollywood romance movies and the salacious tales from her American girlfriends.
She cast a longing gaze and some blonde, wearing a tank top so open you could see her brassier, as the girl cuddled with some guy.
One day, that will be me.
So much skin on campus, she wondered sometimes how any studying got done. By the afternoon she was already looking forward to her nighttime play session. That night, after finishing her paper, she went to check to Facebook. Suddenly the browser minimized. A moment later a blank screen opened, and words appeared on her computer.
Hello.
"Um, hello?" She tried to move her cursor but it wasn't responding. "Why can't I..."
I control your computer now. Pay attention.
"I...who are you?"
I am someone you should pay attention to
"What? Why? Leave me alone!"
No. Now pay attention. I want you to take off your blouse.
"What? No, never, go away!" She noticed the camera light on her laptop come on and reached out to cover it with her hand
Tell you what, silly girl. Let's look at some pictures, shall we?
With that the photo browser popped up on the screen. Pri gasped and covered her mouth in shock. It was the selfie she had taken this morning, only her face was clearly in the picture.
"How did you..."
Don't worry about that, little girl. Would you like me to send this to your parents?
"No! Please!"
Or maybe to Mr. Batachari? Better yet, how about Mr. Batachari's son?
Pri's head was spinning in horror. Mr. Batachari was her family's patron back home. This could not be happening.
How about I send this one?
A second selfie appeared, one from weeks ago, and again her face was in the picture.
It's your choice, girl. Take your hand off the camera and take your top off or we start sending out your hot selfies to your friends and family.
"No, please...," she said as she dropped her hand.
Her email program opened and Mr. Batachari's email filled in. Her eyes widened in horror.
Time is a-wasting!
Pri whipped off her blouse and clutched it to her chest, staring at the screen in despair. Finally words appeared.
Wise choice. Now, silly girl, put the shirt down.
"No...please...I..."
Now.
Pri haltingly lowered her blouse, exposing her simple white bra to her tormenter.
So, silly girl, in case you haven't figured it out, I've already seen your tits.
A third selfie scrolled across this screen, this one of her bottom, followed by a fourth. Her face was in all of them.
Take off your bra
Pri paused in indecision as yet another one of her selfies came up. How many did he have? She took one every few days, and these seemed to date back weeks. And why was her face in all of them? She had always been so careful! These could absolutely ruin her!
Hello dingbat, I'm waiting.
Pri swallowed, trapped. She would simply die if those photos got out. It wasn't just one picture, it was many. She numbly reached behind herself and open her bra. A sob escaped from her throat as she lowered her head and exposed herself to this stranger. Finally she looked back to the screen. Another message came up.
Are you embarrassed?
Pri nodded with a sniffle.
Ashamed?
She nodded again.
Humiliated? There is no reason to be, you have a lovely body. But, like I said, you will be humiliated if you don't follow my directions. Imagine the shame you would bring on yourself and your family if these got out. It will be very easy to send these out to your family, to the school, to your professors, to the medical schools you will be applying to.
"Oh God," she whispered as the full force of her predicament hit her. It felt like there was an icy grip on her throat and she felt sick to her stomach.
Now, I don't want to do that. Believe it or not, I don't want to embarrass you. I promise that if you are a good little pet, this will stay between us. No one needs to know about your naughty little pictures. Would you like that?
"Yes."
Yes what? Manners, girl.
"Yes, please keep this between us."
Good. I'm glad we got that clear. Now dry your face. Good. Okay, play with your nipples.
Pri closed her eyes in humiliation as she brought her hands to her chest and started fondling her nipples. A few minutes later the computer beeped and she opened her eyes.
Keep your eyes open, dingbat. How else are you going to follow my directions? Now, what is your name? No, keep playing with your nipples. Get them nice and hard for me.
A series of questions followed, as she rattled off her name, her school, her class schedule, her high school, all the while fondling herself. Despite her predicament, it was getting difficult to concentrate as her body responded to her touches. He asked about her friends, forced her to describe what her girlfriends looked like. He asked about previous lovers. He made her name all of her professors. He forced her to give a smile as she answered.
Well, pet, this has been fun. It is getting late, so lets get this show moving. Stand up and remove your pants.
"I...no. I won't." She had to fight, she simply had to.
Your choice.
She watched in horror as her email program came up again and her Biology study group email alias was entered. The subject filled in as 'Rate me'. The air left her sails as he attached a picture.
"Oh God."
You said you wanted to keep this between us. Is that still the case?
"Yes."
