The Hacker

Philip could barely remember the last time he had a full night of sleep. He knew his hair were a mess and the dark circles around his eyes had grew larger and larger. Still, he refused to leave his chair and swallowed another long sip of black coffee. It was almost dawn, but he was so close now! After a week of nonstop working, he could see the goal he was looking for. He was the best in what he did, but this time he'd come to wonder if getting into that computer could be done at all. Only the idea of the 100,000 dollars flowing into his account had kept him going.

Honestly, he didn't know why anybody would pay that much to have some private picture. It's true, Samantha Paulson was both the CEO of a big tech company and a beautiful woman, but he doubted she'd be damaged by the discovery of some private pictures. Still, he needed the money and had agreed to do the job. When he finally came around the last line of defense and accessed the files, he started crying for the emotion and the effort. He'd done it. He opened a few of them and saw some plain erotic pictures that didn't really impressed him. Of course, he would keep a copy, but he didn't actually care that much.

He quickly saved everything on the cloud and cleaned his traces as better as he could. He didn't lose a second and notified his clients, who of course were anonymous. The answer came immediately, just as the money did. It was all in cryptocurrencies, of course, and he'd have to be careful about how he'd use it, but still it was a change in his life. Now he felt his body collapse and he finally left his place in front of the computer. He didn't even bother to take off his clothes and just laid down on the bed, sleeping almost immediately.

When he woke up it was the early afternoon. He had a college lecture in an hour, but he didn't care about it. Anyway, there wasn't anything his teacher could tell him he didn't know already. As he went to the kitchenette of his small one-room apartment to get a coffee and a slice of cold pizza from the day before, he realized now he had the money to pay back most of his student loan. Thinking about it, he realized he had only checked a few of the file he'd stolen from Samantha Kaminski. He went back to his desk and opened them. As he remembered from the night, the first ones were a series of nudes from the CEO. She did have a spectacular body, with round tits and an angelic face with green eyes and dark blonde hair, but it wasn't anything too extreme. Then, there were some vanilla sex videos with her husband, the gym instructor and influencer Rob Paulson. Cute stuff, but again, nothing spectacular.

Just as he was getting bored, though, he finally found something interesting. Buried deep among thousands of files, there were some disturbing BDSM videos. Apparently, Samantha and Rob not only were into very kinky stuff but liked to play with other people too. He found scenes of young women getting tied up and whipped, young men in cages and of both of them geared up as dominator and dominatrix. Suddenly, he realized the value of those files. Something like that could really damage both the career of the CEO and of the influencer. Anyway, he just shrugged and went back to his coffee. He didn't care about those rich people.

He took a shower and spent the rest of the day playing videogames. He'd deserved it. He ordered another pizza and a few cokes, then he carried on until dawn again. When he finally went to sleep, however, there was a smile on his lips. He decided he would go to class the following day and set up an alarm. It was time to get back to the world.

A strong knocking on the door woke him up suddenly. He checked his phone and saw it was 8 AM. Who was up at that time? Quite confused, he went to the door and opened it. Two people pushed his back and stormed the apartment. They were both muscular men in their thirties and were wearing dark suits. He realized he was in trouble.

"Look, I don't know what you want, but..." he started to say.

"Shut up!" said one of the men, pushing him back on his bed.

The other one went to his computer and packed him in a bag. Then he quickly went through his stuff and took everything that could storage some information.

"Hey, you can't do that! Who the hell..."

The man who'd been keeping him on the bed slapped him and forced him back on his feet. Slender as he was, there was no way he could resist someone who obviously had some military training. He pulled his arm behind his back and took him outside.

"Wait, what the fuck?"

"Be quite or this will end badly for you," said the man with a calm but terrifying voice.

Philip felt all energy slip away from his body and he stopped resisting. They were probably from some secret service agency and all he could do was trying to see where this is was going. They took him to the street, cuffed him, and then pushed into a black car, where a third man was waiting behind the wheel. As soon as he was inside, they also placed a hood on his head, leaving him in the darkness. He could only listen as they drove for a long while. He was scared as hell and really needed to pee, but they went on and on. After what it seemed like an hour, but was possibly less, they stopped and shut down the engine.

"On your feet, Philip!" said of the men, pulling him out of the car.

Hearing his name made him even more terrified. Well, of course they knew it, since they'd found his home, but it was still deeply disturbing. Dragging his feet and stumbling because of the hood and the handcuffs, he crossed what it felt like a garden path and entered a building. To his horror, they cut off his clothes, leaving him completely naked, and then they made him sit on a chair and immobilized both his arms and legs. Only then they removed the hood. When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, the place was empty. He was in small a basement room and all he could see were a metal door and a thin window on the top. Most of the light came from an electric bulb on the ceiling.

"Please, I really need to pee," he muttered. Between the fear and the shock, his mouth felt also terribly dry. "Can I have some water?" he added.

Nobody answered. He didn't have any way to measure time, but judging by the light from the window, he thought they had left him there from most of the morning. After some time, he couldn't hold back anymore and he peed himself, which only made everything worse. The need to drink was becoming impellent, his eyes were burning, and all his limbs were aching in the cuffs that held him to the chair, which was bolted to the floor.

"Please, please," he kept saying in a feeble voice.

Finally, the door opened, and a man entered. It was a strong-built man in his early forties with short dark hair and a neatly styled beard. Philip was so tired that he didn't recognize him at first, but when he did he widened his eyes for the surprise. It was Rob Paulson!

"Hello Philip," he said.

"I... I..."

"Don't bother and just answer my questions. Who paid you to steal those pictures?"

"I don't know, I'm sorry... I don't know..."

"Don't play with me, boy! Who paid you?"

"I really don't know! These transactions are always anonymous!"

Rob didn't say anything, but he went back to the door and signaled someone to come in. A man in a dark suit, one of those that had kidnapped him, approached him with some pliers.

"What the fuck, please!"

"Listen to me, small piece of shit," said Rob. "Tell me now who paid you, or that man there will start removing your fingernails one by one!"

"I don't know! Fuck! I don't know!"

The man in the suit came close to him and placed the pliers around one of his fingers. Philip screamed and tried to free himself, but there wasn't anything he could do. However, seeing that he still didn't talk, Rob stopped the man with a hand.

"All right, he doesn't know anything."

The man in the suit stopped and left the room, leaving the boy panting and crying. Rob came closer and looked him in the eyes.

"Now listen closely, boy. I know you don't know anything, so I'll let you leave, but you won't get away so easily after what you did. You'll be our guest for a while, and we'll play with you. Be a good boy and you'll get out of this alive. Don't, and you'll never be seen again. There are a lot of places where your body won't be found. Do you understand?"

Philip was speechless.

"Do you understand?!"

Philip nodded, too terrified to speak.

"Good. You won't see me again for a while, but my people will. If you won't be compliant, I'll know it and you'll suffer."

That said, he left the room. Philip cried, and screaming, and then cried again until there wasn't any strength left in him. He peed himself again, even though he needed to drink so badly. His whole body was in pain, but he was alone. When they finally came to get him, it was evening, and he was barely conscious. Two men in suits unlocked him and helped him gulp down a bottle of water and a toast. Then they dragged him to another room, even smaller than the other one, and they locked him inside. It didn't have any window and couldn't even be called a cell. In fact, there were only a carpet on the floor and a bucket to pee. Tired, hurt, and scared, he fell on the carpet, unable to sleep. He laid there for hours, even if he couldn't tell how many.

Eventually, the door opened, and he received another bottle of water. Now that he wasn't thirsty anymore, he was famished, but all they gave him was a small piece of bread. He spent the whole day in the cell, or at least he though so. After a while, possibly in the evening, they gave him some water and a single slice of pizza. He devoured it, but it was barely enough to keep him going. He wondered how long they keep him there.

The same routing went on and on. Basing solely on the meals, he counted three days, but he couldn't be sure. He was very dirty now, not having a chance to shower. Sometimes he tried to cry for help, but it was all useless. At least, he had time to think, and he came to the conclusion that if they were keeping him there, they probably had some goal. He just needed to be strong and resist until he could finally understand what it was.

In what it must have been the morning of the fourth day, they let him out of the cell. They took him to the other room, which now had two metal cuffs dangling from the ceiling. They immobilized him and placed a hood back on his head. He couldn't see, but he heard at least two people walking around him. Then, as a complete surprise, the whip stroke. He screamed in pain, but they didn't stop. They went on and on until his whole back was a single huge spot of pain. Then they washed him with cold water, making him even more miserable. Finally, they took off the hood and pushed him back into the small cold cell.

This new, terrible routine went on for a week. In the end he was barely a shadow of himself. He didn't speak, he didn't resist, and he was barely able to think anymore. The water and the little food he received kept him alive, but they didn't give him the strength to hang on to his sanity. What the hell did they want from him?

Then, one morning it all stopped. The door opened, but instead of one of his jailers, a polite woman in her forties came in. She was tall and very elegant, wearing a cream pantsuit and heeled shoes. She wasn't Samantha Kaminski, though. She had dark hair and he'd never seen her before.

"Oh, poor little thing," said the woman.

With the help of a young woman dressed in a nurse uniform, the newly arrived helped Philip to his feet and took him outside. They climbed a lot of stairs and arrived on what had to be the top floor of the mansion. The two women took him to a bathroom and helped him get clean again. He didn't get some real clothes, but he was given a soft white robe. Then, they went to a kitchen, and he was finally able to have a real meal, even if not a large one.

"My name's Irina and I'll be in charge of you," said the woman, who spoke with a light foreign accent. "If you're good, we'll have a great time together. I'm a strict teacher, but I'm not a sadist. If you obey, I won't punish you for nothing."

Philip didn't understand what it was going on, but the idea of going back to the cell was so horrible that he'd agree to anything in that moment. So, he just nodded.

"Very well. First, we need to take care of your body. We cleaned you up, but you still look like a nasty boy. Rosie and I will help with that."

Rosie, the young woman in the nurse uniform, and Irina took him back to the bathroom, where he had to undergo a long series of beauty treatment. He was completely clueless, and the situation was surreal, but he didn't have neither the strength nor the will to oppose them. They started with a full body wax and carried on with shaping his eyebrows and filing his nails. Still, it was when they also cut and styled his brown hair into a feminine bob that he realized what was going on. When they painted both his finger- and toenails with a bright red nail polish, it was obvious they were feminizing him. What the hell was happening?

The beauty treatment wasn't over. As soon as the nail polish was dry, the women proceeded to apply a full make-up to his face. He had soft features, so the result was stunning. He looked like a girl at least as much as he looked like a boy. The last step was the clothing. They made him wear a pair of white lace panties, a matching bra, a pair of sheer black pantyhose, and then a plain black pleated dress that came down to just above his knees. At his feet he wore a pair of feminine, but low-heeled, black shiny shoes.

"Very well, you look cute!" said Irina at the end of that process, which had lasted at least a couple of hours. It must be midday now.

"What is all of this?" he dared to ask.

"It's very simple. Ms. Kaminski and Mr. Paulson decided to keep you as a servant maid. You will undergo two months of training and then three years of contract as a slave. All you have to do is be obedient and do whatever you're told. Do this, and eventually you'll be released. Don't, and you'll go back to that little dark cell."

Philip swallowed hard.

"Now, we can't use your old name, of course. That would be improper for a maid. I think I'll call you Peach. Do you like it?"

Philip didn't know what to say, but he was too scared not to answer, so he just nodded.

"Great! So, tell me. What's your name?"

"Ahem... Peach..."

"Well, we'll have to work on that male voice, but it's good enough for now."

Philip had hundreds of questions in his head, but he just lowered his eyes. He felt like he should have said something, fought back about that craziness, but the truth was he didn't have the will in him anymore. He just wanted to rest in a real bed and pretend it was just a bad dream.

"Rosie will show you to your room and let you eat something. Your training begins in the afternoon. We're going to have fun together."

The nurse took his hand and told him to follow him. For the first time, he took his time to really look at her. She was in her twenties, just a few years older than he was, and was very pretty. She had raven hair that she kept tied up in a bum, and was quite short, but she looked very fit. Her gentle dark eyes were the only ones in that house that didn't make him feel threatened. He realized her nurse uniform couldn't really be a real one. The white dress was way too short and tight-fitting, not to talk about the deep cleavage. Her legs looked wonderful in the white tights.

"Be good and it won't be bad," she whispered as soon as they were out of Irina's range. "But please, don't fight back. Your life is on the stakes here."

"Why are they doing this to me?"

"I can't tell... well, not exactly. I know they like to play games with their victims. But they won't kill you if you're obedient."

Philip felt his heart sank even deeper. There was no escape. He had to play along with this absurd situation for as long as those maniacs wanted. They reached his room, which was small but of course much better than his cell. Apart from the window opening on the garden, the only furniture was a simple bed with white sheets, a vanity full of make-up products and with a few drawers, and a clothes rack. On the rack there were a black dress completely identical to the one he was wearing. Under it, on the floor, there was another pair of black shoes also like the one he had on. Well, it didn't look like he was going to need a large wardrobe in the future.

"You're still in training, so you'll wear one of these black dresses. In two months, you'll receive your maid uniforms. Your underwear and hosiery are in the vanity's drawers. As for the beauty products, you should already have everything you need. I'll let you a few minutes to take a breath, but then I need you to join me in the kitchen."

She left and Philip was free to explore his new room. Not that there was much to see. He looked out of the window, pondering an escape attempt. When he tried to open it, however, he saw it was locked. He went back to the vanity, looking in disbelief at all the different products. He didn't even know what most of them were meant for. He opened the three drawers, one after the other. In the first one he found two neat lines of lace panties and matching bras. In the second one there was a good amount of sheer black pantyhose. In the third and last one he found two silky baby-doll nighties. He took them out to see how they were and found out they were short and lacy. The idea of sleeping in those made him feel sick and humiliated.

He remembered of Rosie's warning and left the room. He noticed that, of course, there wasn't a lock on the door. Anybody could come in at any time. He took his time to explore the place as much as he could. It was on the third floor and was organized as a servants' quarter. Both the furniture and the decorations were very minimal. Apart from the bathroom and the kitchen, he counted six bedrooms, including his. He assumed one had to be Rosie's.

"Good, sit down and eat," said the nurse when he joined her. "You really don't want to be late."

The lunch consisted of a mixed salad. No bread or dressing. He ate everything but was still as famished as he was before.

"I'm sorry, but I can't give you anything more," said Rosie, who noticed his sad face. "You need to lose weight quickly or our employers will get angry."

"Did you come here freely?" he asked.

Rosie blushed and turned away. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to intrude."

"Don't worry about it. Now let's go, Irina must be already waiting for you."

They took the service stairs down to the basement. He was scared and trembled at the idea of seeing the place where he was tortured, but Rosie took his hand and tried to calm him down. They weren't going to the same rooms. Instead, she led him into a large ballroom full of everything it was needed for his training. He saw a kitchen corner, a table full of plates, glasses and silverware, different types of appliances and a lot of other furniture. Gasping, he realized he wasn't the first one they'd brought here to be trained. Nobody would set up something like this for one person.

"Good, you're on time," said Irina with a cold smile that was friendly but severe. "From now on, whenever you enter a room you need to curtsey and greet properly."

That was his first lesson. Irina taught him how to curtsey, making him repeat the action a hundred times until he could do it without even thinking. He learned he had to call her Ms. Irina and his employers as Ms. Kaminski and Mr. Paulson. She made him repeat his new name until she thought he said it convincingly. 'Peach' sounded terrible, and he already hated it with all his heart, but it wasn't like he had any choice about it.

"Your training will begin at 7 AM in the morning and it will stop at 7 PM in the evening. Rosie and I will take turns to instruct you, but don't try to take advantage on her. She'll report me everything I if you do something I don't like, I'll know."