A follow-on from chapter 2, but can be read alone.
Chapter 3
Priyanka was rudely awoken by a series of loud beeps. She raised her head and looked at her computer. There was a message on the screen.
Looks like you forgot to set your alarm. You can skip the run, don't forget the selfies.
Her eyes snapped to the clock. She had overslept by almost an hour! She raced to the bathroom and quickly got ready, in such a rush she didn't even debate taking a selfie topless and with only a bra. Barely getting to class in time, she took her seat and opened her notebook. Soon, however, her mind wandered from the lecture to the events of the weekend. She had read naughty stories. She had seen hundreds of a pornographic pictures. She had masturbated for her blackmailer. It had been the most intense orgasm of her life. Only a week ago her life had been normal, just a college girl with a bad habit of taking naked selfies. Now she was under the thumb of an unseen blackmailer. And yet...the pleasure from her orgasm was undeniable. She could feel her nipples pucker just from the memory.
What shocked here most about the weekend was not things she had seen, but how she had acted. Shouldn't she have resisted more? She had never considered herself particularly strong willed, but the way she had given in disappointed her. Reviewing the weekend, she couldn't think of a way out of it, but the way she actively assisted her blackmailer was perplexing. It was as if a fog had descended over her mind, an enveloping fog. It had felt like she was lost and helpless, relying on the hand of her blackmailer to lead her. In the end she was so well trained that she just did whatever he asked.
The rest of the day was spent in a constant tug between trying to focus in class and trying to come to grips with what was happing in her room. At least no one else seemed to suspect what a slut she was being. Her blackmailer had promised to keep it just between them, and she hoped he would keep his word. She now knew that all their interactions were being recorded, which meant that he now had more than enough material to completely destroy her life. Material she had provided him, all because she was so vain she had taken naked selfies. Going to Campus Security was now totally out of the question.
That evening, a chat window opened up. After a brief discussion of her schedule for the week, he gave her three directions: follow the rules, be available for a shopping trip Thursday afternoon and, of course, no touching. For the next few days there was no contact. Priyanka found the absence of her blackmailer unsettling. She couldn't help but wonder that if he wasn't actively telling her what to do, what was he doing? Her mind imagined terrible things that he might ask her to do. Then again, it would be hard to top the activities of the weekend. As he had ordered her to do, she ran every morning and took two selfies before heading out to class, one topless and one in her bra. Hanging out with friends, she was sufficiently evasive when asked where she had been. A few times she had considered telling them, but the conversation always seemed to move along before she could get up the courage.
The worst was the growing urge to touch herself. She had established a routine, for years now, of pleasuring herself every night before sleeping and usually every morning also. Now, being told she couldn't, the urges built up night after night. Her laptop sat on her desk, watching her all night. She knew she couldn't risk it, which only seemed to make her want it more. The idea of doing it in the shower started sounding better and better.
Thursday afternoon she returned to her room after classes. A chat window opened on her laptop. After preliminaries, he delivered a shopping list for her. The items were bizarre and seemingly unrelated: small C-clamps, a bike security cable, duct tape, personal lubrication, Velcro straps, sweat bands, a lock with a key, a blonde wig, some cheap bead necklaces and some other items. The only troubling item was a $100 Amazon gift card. Pri had worked hard over the summer to earn money, and while she could afford it, she still considered $100 a big expense.
Upon returning after dinner that evening, the first thing he did was force her to give him the gift card. Next, he had her cut off a small piece of duct tape and carefully cover the green light on her webcam. He even made her take a picture of it with her cell phone to prove it was in the right place. Now she wouldn't be able to tell when she was being watched. Finally, he had her put on the wig and necklaces. Pri admired herself in the mirror, looking completely different as a blonde, though the tan skin and brown eyes made the hair look out of place. Her stomach fell as she read the next instruction.
Okay, put on some music. Do a strip tease, don't knock the wig off.
She paused. This would be the first time in several days that she was being asked to expose herself, a striptease no less. Pri fiddled with her music indecisively, trying to buy time. While she had been intellectually prepared to undress, reading actual demand was intimidating. As she dithered, her mind raced, and in the end she decided there was nothing she could do. He had way too much material on her already, another striptease really wasn't that bad. She started to dance, but she refused to get into it. She looked at the ceiling, at the floor, dancing clumsily and carelessly. The recollection of the meme
Dance as if no one is watching you
caused her to give a wry smile. Someone clearly was watching her. Or at least she thought he was watching her, as repeated glances at her laptop showed that she could not tell if the webcam was on or not.
Trying not to think about it, she started pulling her blouse up, teasing it slowly like she had learned from the videos. Defiance surged in her, making her rebel against doing a good job. She pulled the shirt up and over her head. Unfortunately, it caught on her wig and tangled in the necklaces. She froze for a moment, the shirt blinding her while she tried to keep her wig in place. Momentarily disoriented, she took a clumsy step and stumbled, sending her crashing into her dresser. Pri yelped in surprise as she collapsed in a heap, pulling her shirt and wig off in one motion. She immediately looked to the camera, embarrassed at having been such a klutz.
You okay?
"Uh, yeah."
Pri smiled in embarrassment before recovering. She was doing a striptease for her blackmailer, who was going to see her entire naked body, why should she be humiliated for stumbling?
Let's try again.
She sighed and put the shirt and the wig back on and started again. Once more she forced herself not to forget she was being blackmailed into showing her body, determined to give the worst striptease possible. This time she managed to get the shirt off without killing herself, then proceed to lifelessly remove the rest of her clothes. When she finally stepped out of her panties, she shrugged at the camera and awaited further instructions with a bored look on her face.
That was awful.
Pri shrugged.
You act like you've forgotten the moves you learned.
A video popped up, and Pri winced as she watch herself, happy and carefree, stripping sensually for him.
"I just don't want to do this any more."
That's not your choice, pet.
She shrugged nonchalantly.
That's how you want it?
"I want out."
Okay.
Pri raised an eyebrow. Was he going to let her go? The next message dispelled any such thoughts.
You know the consequences.
The computer opened up an email message and for her biology study group. It filled in the subject as 'Rate me'. Then it attached a video file, and Pri's heart sank at the hopelessness of her situation.
"No, please don't."
He started writing a message. 'I'm so horny sitting here alone in my room, dreaming about you. Do you think I'm hot?'
"Please, no don't. I'll be good. I'll do what you want. Please."
