Digital Obedience Cuff

Most of the fetish stuff wasn't really her thing, but they tended to pay the best. Tameena adjusted the lighting on the tripod lamp towering over her, training the soft glow on her barefoot cradled in her hand, all her nails a satisfying match of dark purple. Her studio apartment was modest in size, the walls an alarming raspberry shade, with glossy light-wood floorboards. The space was littered with a mismatched array of white furniture amassed over years of deal-hunting online, with an abundance of blankets, framed pictures and cushions, creating a homely and inviting atmosphere. The curtains had been left open on the bright Saturday morning allowing the natural light to cascade into the room. The benefit of being several floors up was that Tameena didn't have to worry about anyone looking in on her prancing around naked while she worked.

The room was rectangular, with the window at the far end taking up most of the small wall. In front of it was her wardrobe on the left and unmade double bed on the right - currently twisted with white sheets and tossed pillows. In the middle of the room was the sofa, pressed back against the long wall on the right, facing the TV on the wall opposite, then finally the kitchen area of white glossy countertops along the wall near to the front door. Another door in the middle of the room led to her bathroom. Tameena was currently perched on the white fabric of the sofa amid wires and lamps, gripping a pen between her teeth, as she mumbled along incoherently to the music blaring an uptempo tune from a sappy musical from her youth. Something about taking these perverse shots with the backdrop of such innocent music made her smile.

She snapped the last few angles of her newly pedicured feet from various angles, and sighed with satisfaction at the results. She found her photography skills were improving and was pleased at the composition of these shots. Bringing her feet down from resting on the arm of the sofa, Tameena retrieved her silver laptop from the floor nearby. It was cold against her bare skin. She plugged in her camera to upload the photos, emailing them to her client and ticking off 'Another fucking feet pic' from the list of requests in her fluffy pink notebook.

Ever since her free pics had started trending on forums and social media, she was up on subscriptions to her private Snapchat, and was getting more premium requests than ever, so much so that now she had to actually keep notes! It had taken all morning, but finally she was all caught up. She yelled out the lyrics to the next line in triumph, extending her arms up to the sky, fingers splayed out, stretching them to punctuate the final note as the song ended and another followed it. She chuckled to herself, her breasts jiggling as she slumped back on the couch.

Her newest clients were a mixed bunch: guys and girls from all over, and it seemed their tastes were more eclectic than she was used to. She'd had to order some new bondage equipment and outfits to fulfill some of them, and Tameena wanted to squeal with excitement knowing they would arrive in a few days. The thrill of something new! However adventurous she was, some of these new requests were... a bit beyond her comfort zone; she had considered some of them but ultimately ended up rejecting a fair few. You didn't get far as a pornographic model by being a pushover, and Tameena knew to pace herself. There was plenty of time to work up to the scary stuff, she had only just gotten comfortable with posting regular nudes.

The laptop chimed with new emails, and Tameena opened her inbox to look at the new batch of requests. There were actually a fair few. As always, she began by whittling down the definite 'nos'. All the requests about her collaborating with other girls went straight to trash, as did any of the super extreme rape-kink stuff, and lastly were all of the face picture requests.

Of all the sick stuff people would ask her to do, she was most amazed by just how much people were willing to pay to see her face. Hundreds, sometimes thousands of dollars! She had been promising her long-term fans a face reveal for quite some time now, having said it would come at 5,000 subscribers, but that milestone was approaching fast and Tameena didn't feel ready. It was only a few months ago that the money for this job even became enough to live on and let her quit her waitressing job. Now she was actually doing it properly and enjoying herself, but if she really wanted to contend with the big stars, she knew she had to commit at some point. All those girls showed their faces. Tameena had started all this as a bit of fun, some motivation to work out and eat well, maybe make a few bucks, but now it was taking off she felt a certain responsibility to her fanbase. To herself. She had to be the best she could be and give it her all, but she could feel herself holding back.

Some of the girls who did this had as many as tens of thousands of subs, probably making six-figures a year. Looking around her humble apartment, she longed for the lifestyles she saw on their social feeds. What had gotten her here was getting comfortable and confident, and that came in having anonymity, to take it to the next level, she would have to give that up. The idea of losing that comfort blanket brought a tightness to her belly, but the hint of excitement flurried somewhere deeper.

Returning from her inner musings to the screen, she stared at the latest face request email and pondered over it a moment, maybe today was the day? Before she had even given it due thought, she found herself reflexively deleting the email. Instead she looked for some other way to push her limits. A small steady type step. After the clear out, the email at the top of her inbox caught her eye, the subject line including a trail of dollar signs. This guy was asking for some very specific in-public shots, willing to pay way above the average for a few upskirt shots in a mall, coffee shops, that sort of thing. Tameena smiled devilishly as she read it, weighing the idea up in her mind and finding herself grow a little wet.

"You know what, yeah. Let's fucking do it." she said to herself, going to write it in her notepad when she paused. She actually didn't have any plans today, a mall trip sounded like fun. She might as well do it right away, it had been a while since she'd bought some new clothes anyway. A smirk crept across her features and she cranked up the music, tossing her laptop aside and leaping up and over to her wardrobe to pick out an outfit. She opted for a dark-purple lingerie set (to go with her nails), and a white cotton sundress with thin black vertical stripes. It came to her mid-thighs and showed off her hearty cleavage, with the added benefit of showing off a lot of her bare back. Guys liked to see her signature rose-petal tattoos trailing down her spine. As well as being a turn-on, it also meant there was no doubt that the pictures were of her.

The dress fit her perfectly, hugging her lithe hips and showing plenty of her caramel brown skin. Her lean legs were on full display, but sadly the dress was looser at the bottom, so people wouldn't get the benefit of her shapely behind outlined in the fabric. Tameena darkened her long lashes with some mascara, accentuating her smooth skin with a dab of foundation, and spraying some life into her frizz of curly chestnut hair: springy, fluffy and fabulous. Stepping into some short tan coloured flats in a knitted weave, she snapped a selfie of herself to add to her Snapchat. Regularly updated content was a must. She looked great today, it almost seemed a shame to have to crop out her face.

The nearest mall was only a few stops away on the subway, so she made her way over to the station. As she left her building, she caught the attention of a huddle of young guys in thick oversized tracksuits, hoods up. One of them traced his gaze up her long legs, lingering a moment before meeting her eye.

"Hey Darren, how's it going?" she spoke cheerily as she passed. He hung around here a lot, and was also her regular dealer, so they were well acquainted.

"Good Tam, what you up to today?" he replied, bringing a cigarette to his lips and lighting it.

"I'm just gonna do some shopping at the mall," she said, meeting the eyes of the other boys in his group who were doing their best to appear intimidating. She remained cordial, smiling and standing straight; tall as they were, she could match most of them in height. "Watch the place for me while I'm out? Keep out the riff raff?" she joked.

He smiled and forced out a low chuckle, "Will do ma'am!"

Tameena shot him a playful wink, then skipped around the corner and maintained a light pace up the street and into the busy station. These trains were always pretty packed, but it had been especially nightmarish this week as a couple of the other lines were down for scheduled maintenance. Tameena strutted onto the platform just as a train pulled in, heaving with people.

"Excuse me!" she yelled as the doors slid open, squeezing herself in as yet more people shuffled in behind her. As the train bolted off, the packed-in bodies swayed to and fro in the cramped carriage like liquid in a bottle. With every stop, more and more people piled in until Tameena was sure that the carriage couldn't fit another living soul and still allow for breathing space, but impossibly even more managed their way on at the next station.

By the time she realised her stop was approaching, the train was impossibly full and Tameena was now pressed in the middle of the carriage far from the doors. Asking people politely to let her out didn't have much effect, there was too little space to move. So instead she barged through the crowd; knocking against handbags, arms and suitcases on her way out. Finally she burst free of the doors seconds before they closed, gasping for breath as she landed gracefully on the platform with the clip-clop of her shoes, regaining her composure whilst the train pulled away.

She followed the corridor out of the station towards the mall, fishing her hand into her brown leather handbag to retrieve her phone, when suddenly something caught her eye. Around Tameena's right wrist was a grey bracelet of some kind. A cuff, almost like a smart fitness band but it was extremely tight, form fitting to her skin. She examined it closely, a lightweight metal about two centimetres wide and thicker than two fingers in diameter. Had someone clasped this onto her as she was leaving the train? Initially she regarded it with an amused sort of interest, was it some sort of prank thing? Her eyes flickered up, peering through her thick lashes at the length of the platform to see if anyone was staring at her or recording from afar. There was hardly anyone around, most people's attention buried in their phones or a book. She returned her attention to the bracelet, inspecting for a fastening or buckle but there was nothing. Tameena tried to dig her fingers under it and pull it off, but it was firmly attached, she couldn't even spin it around her wrist.

"Huh..." she mumbled amusingly, trying her best not to allow her growing concern to fester. It was just some silly bracelet, probably some new dumb craze that she'd missed hearing about, it wasn't doing any harm. Though it was metallic, it seemed flimsy enough to cut off with tools if she really had to. Her smile faded at the thought, Tameena wasn't easily spooked but this turn of events was so peculiar that she wasn't sure what to do. She was just standing in the entrance to the mall staring at the item on her wrist, paralysed. It was surreal.

She had to do something. Glancing around, Tameena spotted a ladies bathroom nearby and hurriedly walked over. She pushed into the pristine white-tiled room, found an empty stall and locked herself in to properly examine the cuff. Again Tameena tugged at it, unable to pry it from her dark skin and starting to actually panic a little. She hung her handbag on the hook of the bathroom door and rooted around in it, pushing aside her phone and a box of band-aids to retrieve a nail file. As she went to try and slide the metal strip between her skin and the band, she was struck by a short sharp electric shock.

"Ow!" she shrieked, instinctively dropping the nail file. The cuff had stung her! Though the pain quickly subsided, her shock persisted. Tameena stared at the device, watching in awe as a small portion of the grey surface of the bracelet lit red. It was a concealed screen on the inside of her wrist. The red rectangle blinked away, replaced with small white text, barely visible unless she looked at it from the right angle.

'Punitive measure: 25% power' it read, her wrist was so small that the text had to scroll even despite the small font, 'Do not tamper with the device.'

Her stomach lurched, her eyes wide in shock. Okay now she was freaking out. What the fuck was this thing? It zapped her again, much harder this time. She actually jolted and stumbled into the wall, so surprised her scream caught in her throat. The screen went red again, this time the text displaying 'Warning measure: 50% power'. It was one of the most painful experiences Tameena had ever had in her life, leaving her clutching at her wrist in agony even a few seconds after the punishment. If that was just half of what this thing was capable of, its full capacity could do some serious damage. Whatever playful sunny demeanor Tameena had left home with, it had melted into a rising terror that left her with tears beginning to form at the edges of her eyes.

"Hey, are you alright?" came a soft female voice from the bathroom just outside her stall. The sudden breach of the silence made her jump, "I heard you yelp."

The screen of the cuff immediately lit up amber, warning her 'Alerting others = punitive measures 100% power'

"I-I'm fine, just changing a band-aid." she improvised, surprising herself with her ingenuity. That seemed to placate the kind stranger who hummed in response and padded out of the bathroom; the amber flashing on the cuff ceased.

"What do you want?" she whispered into the device, doing her utmost to at least maintain some semblance of calm in her tone.

'Strip naked' came the command on-screen, leaving Tameena staring in disbelief. This couldn't be happening. This had to be some sort of joke, but another short sharp zap reiterated the seriousness of her predicament, the screen stating it was at 30% power this time, it was enough to garner a squeal. The command to strip was repeated, the words flashing up on screen.

"Okay, okay!" she whined, fiddling with the white fabric on her shoulders as she considered it. Tameena was definitely letting the panic get to her. How could this thing see her? Was she really going to do this? It seemed insane, but she wasn't really being given much choice.

As she toyed with the idea, she felt a familiar sense of thrill creeping up her body. A sensation she had felt taking her first ever nude photos. The commanding nature of the cuff was disconcerting, but somehow a little exciting too. She was surprised at just how quickly she found herself complying, sliding her white dress down her slim frame and hanging it from the hook on the back of the cubicle door. Another light shock urged her to continue, so she unclasped her bra to expose her pierced nipples to the cold room, pulling off her panties too. She strung them all up with her dress and hoped the cuff would at least let her keep her shoes on; to her relief the electric assault stopped. However pristinely clean the bathroom appeared, she had no desire to experience it barefoot.

'Good' read the next text on screen, punctuated by a bright green flash, 'Reward: $500' she was taken aback by that. A buzz came from her handbag, hooked on the back of the door and covered by her clothes. She retrieved her phone to see an app notification confirming she'd received a $500 tip. It was the same app she used in her live shows for guys to tip her performances. Was this some sicko hacker from her fanbase? This seemed well beyond the realms of some cyber-creep. Why resort to this bizarre electric-shock treatment? If someone had sent in a $500 request to strip in a public bathroom, she would have gladly accepted.

'Make yourself cum' came the next command with a light buzz, and her eyes widened as she read it. This was going nowhere good, fast. Tameena's hands were actually trembling now. She felt vulnerable now that she was standing here naked being zapped into submission. The device was not patient with her, and began a pattern of shocks that slowly escalated in severity. She reached down with a wary hand, rubbing two fingers up and down her slit hesitantly. Surprisingly she found she had actually grown a little wet despite her discomfort. Her body was enjoying this torment. It momentarily dispelled her panic, recognising that the reality of being forced to strip naked in public and orgasm for some unknown entity, however alarming was also somehow erotic. Tameena had always made herself comfortable by keeping control over what she would and wouldn't do, now that she was being made to push her boundaries, she was surprised to find herself getting a kick out of it. It was barely a few minutes before the slow thrumming against her engorged clit had her stifling her breathing. As she fondled herself, the cuff vibrated slightly alerting her to a new instruction. It showed a three minute timer counting down, alternating between the counting and the same text commanding her to make herself cum.

Tameena wasn't sure how long it usually took her to reach climax but three minutes was definitely pushing it. Thankfully, the situation was accelerating her arousal, and she plunged a finger into her sopping wet hole and pressed against her g-spot, rubbing it with considerable pressure, before adding a second finger to heighten the sensation. She couldn't believe she was doing this, why was she playing along? Why was this sick game getting her off?

The door to the bathroom was pushed open loudly, a group of chattering girls crowding inside. She could hear some of them enter the stalls, while others continued gossiping by the sinks. They sounded about her age, and their confident chuckling and shouting to one another through the stall doors brought her mind back to reality, remembering just how public this setting was. Her hand slowed, but the cuff was quick to rectify the situation.

'Faster' read the message, zapping her after she had failed to comply in just a few seconds. Tameena smacked her spare hand over her mouth to keep quiet, and quickened her pace, now frigging her pussy in a mad flurry. The girls chatter about their clubbing plans for this evening was so distracting, but their cheery voices were a constant reminder that she might be overheard. With how fast she was being forced to work her fingers, it was certainly audible, the light impact against her skin with each thrust inwards. Thankfully the sound was mostly disguised by their incessant talking.

Checking the device, she saw the timer had less than a minute to go and she could feel a climax brewing in her belly. Sickened and yet stimulated by her own depravity, she could sense a great orgasm approaching, and she was worried she might squirt. She could make a real mess sometimes, and the ankles of one of the loud girls was peeping under the wall to her stall. What if some of her juices landed on her white trainers? Or worse, her skin? The thought turned her on even more, it was all this damn noise! They were so obnoxiously loud and carefree, while she was in here forced to strip and climax for some unknown master. She fought to hold her moans pressing her hand to her lips, her body rising up slowly towards an incredible orgasm, when suddenly the cuff pummeled Tameena with a fierce zap, the screen flashing red.