Blackmailed By Unknown

The following story has themes of misogyny, non-consent sex, humiliation, abuse and other dark themes. If such content offends you, please do not read. This is an erotic FICTION story not meant as any sort of political or societal protest. This is purely for entertainment and never meant to happen in reality.

With a feeling of being disconnected, I sit down in my computer chair. I'm in my room, the door open so I can hear if anyone comes home early. I'm currently alone in the house as my parents are taking an overnight romantic trip to the beach, leaving me with the entire house.

I stare at the computer screen, still in disbelief that this has happened. I've heard of this stuff happening to others, but never thought it could happen to me. How could I have been so dumb? So stupid? So crazy?

What's going to happen? How bad is it going to be? Will there be a way out of this? What will he or she want? Will I be able to say no? What am I going to do if it gets bad?

It started a week ago, believe it or not. I turned 18 a few weeks ago and was feeling daring. You see, I've never been one of those flirty girls. You know what I mean, the type that can get a guy to do whatever she wants with a touch. In fact, I've only been on a handful of dates, with none really being serious. Mostly it was the guys wanting a chance to grope me. I wouldn't mind it so much if that's all it was, but they didn't do anything to set the mood. It just came out of no where and didn't feel right.

Back to the topic, I felt daring and decided to do something very much unlike myself. And that was to take a naked picture of myself and post it to one of those "Rate My Naked Body" sites. But the site I chose wasn't even in English. I, on purpose, chose a site I didn't think anyone that knows me would go to. Where I had to translate everything.

I posted the picture after making an account and waited. Sure enough, I got rather positive ratings. It was from 1 to 10, with 10 being the highest. My average was 7.9. I have a feeling this is because I have larger boobs, but I don't know. In any case, it made me feel really good about myself.

That's when I got the email. The email address was just a bunch of random numbers and letters and had a domain that I had never seen before. Even searching for that domain didn't produce anything. It was like it was from some shadowy figure.

The person behind the email sent my naked photo, along with my real name. (I had used a fake name signing up for that site). They said they had the picture and would post it not just on my Facebook, but my Linkedin as well as email it to everyone that mattered. That is, unless I did as they wanted.

I was shocked. It felt like the world was coming down. I honestly didn't know what to do. I could go to the cops, but then they would see the photo, and it would get back to my parents. Not to mention I didn't want anyone to know I did such a stupid thing. There was also the truth of the matter, which is that if I couldn't find the guy's email domain, I doubt a bunch of lazy cops would either, at least not for something as trivial as one girl's humiliation.

I emailed back asking what they wanted. If it was money, they were out of luck. For this, I sort of braced myself for that picture being leaked. Had an excuse and everything ready. But they didn't want money. No. They said they wanted something better than money. And that was one evening, over webcam to do as they say.

I'm not stupid, despite what I did. I knew what this meant. It was some sexual thing. They were going to make me do who knows what, from stripping to masturbating. But what choice do I have? If there's a fraction of a chance that I can stop them from releasing that photo, I need to take it. That photo could ruin my life, not to mention get me kicked out of so many places.

I emailed back saying I agreed, then set up for tonight as that day my parents said how they were leaving town. Only little does this asshole blackmailer know...I got a program to trace them. It is designed to analyze the feed of a video stream to see where it is going. Due to people using VPNs, it takes a while to properly work as it gets bounced around, but in the end, given enough time, it'll tell me everything. From the person's IP to their computer name to the area of source.

So now I wait in front of my laptop, the webcam turned on, logged into a video service, waiting for my blackmailer. As I wait, all I have are questions. How long will he do this to me? What will he want? Will I even like any of it?

I won't lie, a part of me is excited about this. It's sort of arousing being made to do this against my will. Brings a sort of domination I have never felt before, even if it is horrible. Granted, I don't want to do this. I rather it never happened, but a part of me does get emotional tingles from the thought of it. Seems sort of nice that a guy would want me so bad to do this.

Suddenly, the program alerts me that there is someone else on the line. Instead of a video showing them, they've used my own naked picture as their display picture. There's also no audio coming from them at all. They are being careful not to give anything away. So the only thing I have to look at is my own naked self and my own video feed.

"Your name now is Ms. Big Boobies. Understand?" appears in the chat window along with that bloop sound that comes whenever someone posts a message in chat. I stare at this, aware that he can see every facial expression and move that I make. There's no 'hello' or instructions on how this will go. Just an order as first thing.

"Are you serious?" I ask out loud, finding this to be very stupid and silly. If I didn't know better, I would be concerned about the person's age. But I know the person is over 18, mainly because the site I used has a strict authentication. You have to prove your age by submitting proof of your age. I personally submitted a photo of my driver's license with everything blacked out but my date of birth and picture. Whomever this guy is would have had to do the same. Also, the way he writes seems to have maturity, signaling he is well over 18.

"Fine," I respond before he can type anything more. My face reddens slightly at this turn of events. I didn't know what to expect tonight, but I didn't think it would be this level of stupid humiliation. It sort of disarms me in a bad way as I was so pumped and ready to be told to do a sexy dance or something.

"Say your name then," the chat window shows. Again, I roll my eyes at how silly this is. At how humiliating and stupid. He wants to hear me say that out loud? Jeez.

"My name is...Ms. Big Boobies," I say out loud as I look at the webcam's light. After saying this, my face reddens again, making a wave of humiliation come over me. But strangely, that heat from my face moves downward and seems to settle between my legs as there's something about saying that stupid name arouses me. The sense of being that out of control I would say something like that, out loud.

"Prove it. Show them," the blackmailer types next, no doubt having thought of that set up all day. With a deep breath I sit up straight and then lift my shirt. I lift it up nearly to my chin, exposing my bare breasts to him or her. As I am not wearing a bra, they can clearly see my breasts now.

"What cup size are they? What's your weight too. And what race are you?" the blackmailer asks back-to-back in the chat. I frown at the second question as I think that's rather personal. But then I feel stupid thinking that as I've already shown my breasts and that's far more personal.

"F cup. 125 pounds and I'm mixed, half Hispanic, half black," I say out loud. This does give me a clue towards the identity, kind of. I don't think I know the blackmailer as most people that know me know I'm mixed. This means the blackmailer doesn't know me at all. But how could he or she know my email if he didn't know me? How could he or she know so much about me? Or could that be to throw me off?

"Say your name," he types again. Again, I give a look of not being impressed. Whomever this person is, they seem sure intent on making me feel humiliated or stupid. I wonder if it is an attempt to break me down mentally. Like trying to wear me down so when the stuff gets darker, I'll be expecting it. Or is it they just want to be mean to me? To make me suffer?

"My name is Ms. Big Boobies," I say out loud, my breasts aka boobies clearly showing. As I say this, I feel my tits jiggle a bit, making me feel a bit like my new name. What makes the jiggle a little more interesting is how hard my nipples are. As shocking as it is, I'm already quite aroused.

"Pinch your nipples and don't let go. Then lift your tiddies as high as you can," the new message in the chat box reads. I read and re-read this as I'm a bit taken back. It then makes me wonder why he spells "titties" like that. I know online that's a way people spell it to be cute. Is this person trying to be cute, or is that how they think it is spelled? Could they be a non-English person?

Doing as I am told and bracing for pain, I reach my hands to my nipples. Biting my lip, I pinch both nipples with my thumb and first finger, feeling the hard nub in my hands. Whimpering, I start to lift them up. I feel the weight of each boob as I lift, going slow as I think it wouldn't hurt as bad.

"Ouch," I whimper as I pull them as high as I can go. It's to the point my poor boobs are slightly pulled outward as I lift them up so high. My hands are now on either side of my temples as I hold my breasts like this, showing the underside of them to the blackmailer. It fills me with a sensitive pain, one that feels as good as it does bad.

Only the chat box doesn't say anything. I'm left to stay like this, my poor nipples feeling crushed and my boobs pulled and stretched. 30 seconds later there's a message to let go, and I do. When I do, my breasts bounce free doing a stereotypical titty drop for the pervert. When I do this, I swear it feels like they keep on jiggling, not stopping for at least a minute.

"Put hands behind back, make tiddies jiggle and bounce while saying your name repeatedly," the blackmailer orders now via the chat box. Again, I frown. What is with the saying of the name? And I take it they really like boobs to make me keep doing this. Surely there's no other reason, is there? I can't think of any other than to make me suffer and feel humiliated.

I take a deep breath as I know this will feel weird. Then I sit up straight and move both hands behind my back. Doing this oddly makes me arch my back to press my breasts out more. I then start to shake my breasts by rolling my shoulders, adding in a little hop in my chair. Doing this causes my breasts to jiggle comically all about after a few moments.

My breasts jiggle and bounce all about, feeling very odd. I feel the weight of them as they move all over, not to mention how embarrassing it is. I've actually done something like this before, but as a joke with friends, and I wasn't showing anything. This, by far, is more embarrassing. It makes me feel not like a woman with attributes, but an object that can be laughed at and made fun of, even at what makes them special.

"Look at my boobies! Look, I'm Ms. Big Boobies!" I say, adding in my own flair to make it sound as stupid as I think it is. Only when I say it, my face flushes again and I get that surge of arousal. It hits harder than before, mainly from how stupid and humiliating this is. I say it again, and when I do, I hear my voice echo back. It causes a powerful wave of that dark arousal, which makes me pause for just a spilt moment.

"Lose the shirt," is typed now, making me stop, thankfully. I peel off my shirt, finding that I'm slightly out of breath. As scary as it is, I don't think it is from the physical act of making my breasts jiggle, but from my own arousal. Even my heart beat feels like it's run a marathon.

"Happy you took that naked pic of yourself whore?" the blackmailer types. Even if I don't know who it is, I swear I can hear them chuckle when they write that. Them laughing at me and how helpless I am to them.

"Fuck you asshole," I say out loud, finding it odd to say it as I'm topless. The blackmailer doesn't respond to this, but I can feel them looking at me. Looking at my face and at my breasts. Not sure why I feel this, but I do. Like the webcam is a human eye looking me over.

The blackmailer doesn't type anything for a while. A good 5 minutes pass without them typing anything. It makes me wonder why. What else are they doing? I would think pleasuring themselves, but that doesn't feel right. I'm sure they are, but not to the point that is all they are doing. This makes me nervous. It makes me feel like I'm falling into a trap, but what that trap is, I don't know.

"Find clothespins. For each minute you are gone, it is one more clothespin you have added to put on," is what they type when they finally type. Then the word, "GO!"

Seeing this, I panic. Clothespins?! What in the hell?! I stand up and rush to leave the room, but then I remember I'm topless. I turn around when I reach the door to go back for my shirt. Then I remember I'm alone in the house so I don't need it, so I turn back around, thus wasting more time.

I race out of my room, my hands on my bare breasts to keep them from bouncing all about since they are free. Running down the stairs I go to the laundry room thinking this would be the place we would keep them if we have any. Oh my gosh, what happens if I can't find any?

There's no clothespins in the laundry room at all. I can't even think why anyone would still have clothespin. It's not like we use clotheslines any longer. Despite this I keep searching as time passes on, but find no clothespins. That's when I remember my Dad, well Stepdad, has some in the garage.

I rush into the garage and frantically search for them. I finally find them in the drawer of the desk he has in the garage. Holding them, I rush back to my room, out of breath only giving it a moment's thought to why in the world he has them.

When I sit in my chair, I see on the screen the blackmailer counting the minutes. He now is up to 5 in his counting. I show the bag, slightly out of breath, praying he doesn't type a 6.

"Good, you found them," the blackmailer types. This sends warning bells to me. It's as if he knew there was clothespins in the house. Or is that just me thinking this? As excited and scared as I am, I'm not really sure if I am making connections or seeing things that aren't there.

"One on each nipple Ms. Big Boobies," the blackmailer writes. I had a feeling this was going to be the case. So, not looking happy, I pull out two clothespins. The first I open and inch it closer to my nipple. I've never done anything like this, so I'm not sure how it will feel but I have a feeling it won't be good.

I release the clothespin once it is over my nipple. The moment I do, I feel the sensitive part of me cry in pain, making me yelp loudly. The clothespin bites down on the sensitive flesh, making me squirm and fidget in my chair as the pain of it only increases. I keep doing this for about half a minute when the pain finally sort of dulls down. Then I go through it all over again as I repeat it with my left nipple.

"You look so stupid like that," the blackmailer writes, making me glare at the screen as my chest heaves up and down from the pain I went through. It makes me mad not because he said it, but because it's true. The clothespins don't hang down but stick out as if part of my nipples. When I put them on me, I sort of pushed to hard so my entire nipple and areola got the pin, thus making them stick out like this. Looking down at them makes me feel stupid, but seeing me on the screen humiliates me in a way I didn't know possible.

"3 more to put on you...but where? Where oh where oh where oh where?" the blackmailer writes now. I know they already know where they are all going to go and that this is just to torture me. It almost makes me type for them to get on with it. To ask why in the world they are doing this to me.

"Your tongue," the blackmailer writes, surprising me. Of all places, I didn't think there. Why there? It's such a strange place. Then I figure why. To embarrass me more.

"No, I'm not doing that. It's stupid," I say out loud. No way I'm going to put a dirty clothespin in my mouth. Not that it really is dirty, but what he wants with it is dirty. Making me call myself that stupid name was bad, but this is worse.

"Fine. Wonder what Aunt Rose will say when I email her your photo," the blackmailer says, and then provides her email address. My mouth drops open at this as I can't believe what I'm seeing. Of all the people he could send that naked photo to, she would be the worst. She is the sweetest woman on the planet. She would be crushed to learn I'm not the upright and morally sound woman she thinks I am.

"Bastard," I grunt, showing I'll do it. I then open up another clothespin and then stick my tongue out. I close the pin down on my tongue, tasting the wood of the clothespin. Oddly, it doesn't really hurt. I feel the pressure from it, but not really any pain. Not like on my nipple.

I put my tongue back in my mouth to find the clothespin sticks out of my mouth. That I can't even close my lips now. I try not to look embarrassed, but it's hard. So I sit, red faced, clothespins on my nipples and tongue for the blackmailer to look at.

"What's your name again?" the blackmailer asks. I try to say that disgusting name but find it comes out horribly slurred thanks to the clothespin on my tongue. I try to say it a couple of times, but each time it comes out garbled and stupid. That's when I see that the bastard or bitch wrote "LOL."

The blackmailer makes me say the name again, only this time while shaking my breasts with my hands behind me. When I do this, I get a bit too forceful, making one of the clothespins on my nipple fly off, to which he makes me put it right back on. This is when I learn that putting the clothespins on isn't the worst part...taking it off is. When it flew off, the blood rushed back to my nipple, making it tingle and pulse horribly.

"Enough of that. Stand up. It's pussy time now," the blackmailer writes, finally letting me stop shaking. I take a deep breath at this. This is yet another thing I expected to happen. That he would want to see my womanhood. Breathing hard, I stand up, my breasts to my knees on screen now.

"Take off the pajamas...throw them out the window," the blackmailer writes. For a moment I get that strange feeling that something odd is going on here. That maybe I do know the person that's doing this. How else would they know about the window? But then I turn and spot the window in the corner. The window that can clearly be seen on the webcam.

Taking another deep breath, I grab the waistband of my pajama bottoms and pull down. Instantly my shaved womanhood is seen on screen. Seeing it makes me turn my head as for some reason I don't want to look at it. That it looks not like the sweet and precious thing I've always thought it to be, but a dirty toy for others to use and laugh at.

I bend over as I pull my bottoms down, then step out of them to become completely naked. As I do, I know the blackmailer is loving how my breasts dangle and swing with all the movement as I'm bent over.

Feeling more exposed than I ever have, I turn and start to walk towards my window. Once I'm turned around, I swear I feel the blackmailer's eyes looking at my bare ass. Staring at it and wanting to grab it.

My gosh...I'm naked. Naked for whomever this is. Completely naked. I can't believe it. I can't. Even if I knew I was going to have to get naked, it's still overwhelming. Not to mention very arousing. I've never felt so powerless and stupid before.