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  • Zero Day Exploited Priyanka Ch. 03

Zero Day Exploited Priyanka Ch. 03

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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."

Pri's life flashed before her eyes as she watched the cursor hover over the send button. She would be ruined if that video ever got out.

"Please stop. I'll do anything. Please," she said as she stared at the screen in fear.

Okay, pet, here is the deal. I will give you one chance to prove to me that you are sincere. You fail, the email gets sent and everyone can see what a little slut Priyakna is. Understand, pet? Pri nodded vigorously. Get dressed.

The demand jarred her, but she quickly complied.

Lose the necklaces and wig. Now go to Noodles & Company. You have 7 minutes. I'll send you a text. Go.

Pri seized the opportunity and dashed out the door. She knew seven minutes would be tight to get all the way to the restaurant, so she jogged as she checked her watch. Her mind reeled at how quickly things had soured. She was trying to be defiant and just ended up in more trouble. Her phone buzzed with a text just as she arrived.

Send me a selfie with the store name in it.

Perplexed, she took a picture and sent it to him.

Good. Now, over to your right is a pet store, correct? Send me a selfie with the pet store name.

Pri turned and took another shot. Another text came in.

Remember, pet, you only have this one chance to avoid making your sexy video public. To help you remember your place, you are going to go into the pet store. You are going to find a dog collar that fits your neck. You are going to put the collar on your neck and send me a selfie with it on. You will then wait for further instructions.

The blood drained from Pri's face and she swallowed. Never in her entire life would she have imagined doing something so humiliating. She took a tentative step towards the store, then another, barely suppressing the panic welling up insider of her. Her blackmailer's threat echoed in her mind: if she failed, her video would go public. She entered the store, rattled eyes jumping to the clerk. It was near closing time, and thankfully there didn't seem to be many customers.

The dog collar aisle was only the second from the front. Pri slowly walked by, her heart pounding, looking at the assortment of collars, before continuing on to another aisle. Shame washed over her as she contemplated the action she had to do. She toyed absently with some dog food before steeling herself and returning to the collars. It immediately became obvious that there were several different sizes. If she picked on that was too big or too small she would have to try again. Further, they all seemed to have a belt buckle type latch, which would be hard to put on. Her heart jumped when she saw a brand that used a clip which would be easy to put on.

With a quick look to make sure the coast was clear she reached out and took a pink one off the hook. She glanced around nervously as she fingered the collar, wondering if it was big enough. She adjusted the size and then, with one more look around, quickly placed it around her neck. It was too small. She adjusted the length with trembling hands and managed to snap it closed, only a little tight. She raised her phone, took a selfie, and sent it out.

Pri's eyes darted around as she waited for instructions. Every moment with the collar on made it more likely she would be discovered. She flinched as a customer walked by in the main aisle, but he didn't seem to glance in her direction. Her phone buzzed.

Try again, this time smile, pet.

Pet. Suddenly it all made sense. He had been calling her pet, and now she was cementing that designation. A pet, that's all she was to him. She forced a smile on her face and sent out another selfie. This time, to her horror, the clerk walked by.

"We're closing in fifteen minutes, ma'am."

Pri looked at the man with frightened eyes. She could see his eyes settle on her collar and then back to her. She felt her blush burn down her face as he left. Her phone finally buzzed.

Acceptable. Buy it and a matching leash and get back to your dorm room. You have 9 minutes.

Pri snatched the collar off of her neck and doubled over in relief. She quickly picked up a pink leash and went to check out. The man at the checkout smiled knowingly at her as she approached, and she couldn't meet his eyes. She just quickly paid for the collar and leash and dashed off to her room. The chat window was waiting for her when she arrived.

Put the collar on.

Pri nodded silently and complied.

Get naked.

He was being harsh. Pri berated herself again for defying him as she quickly undressed. She hoped that he had been honest about not sending the email, it wasn't apparent on the screen. She stood in front of her laptop naked and awaited further instructions.

Now attached the leash.

Pri clipped the leash to her collar, the other end piled on the floor by her feet.

I am very disappointed in you. Open your notebook, new rules.

"I'm sorry," she said, trying to curry his favor as she got out her notebook.

Read them to me.

"Rule 1: Keep it civil. Rule 2: Keep the laptop open when you are in your room. Rule 3: Run everyday. Rule 4: Take 2 Selfies every morning. One topless, one with your bra."

Have you been following the rules?

"Yes, sir."

Good pet. Change the last rule to be 4 selfies. One naked, one topless, one with your bra and one fully dressed. Add this new rule. The collar is on your neck whenever you are in your room.

Pri nodded and wrote it down. No more having friends over, she thought.

What the hell is going on down there?

Pri looked down in confusion.

"I...um...my pubic hair is growing?"

Clean shaven. Another rule, apparently I have to tell you everything, shave every day. Disgusting.

Pri's heart fell, hurt that she was so ugly. She covered her crotch with her hand.

"I'm sorry."

Finally, obviously, no orgasms without my express permission. Got it?

She held back a frown, not wanting to do anything to irritate him further.

I don't know what you were thinking. Last time we talked, you were a happy girl, in love with life. Tonight you chose to make yourself miserable, chose to act like a spoiled child. You need to be punished for you stupid behavior. Sit down.

"I'm sorry," she aimlessly repeated as she pulled her chair over. "I'll be good."

Put your feet up on the desk. No, spread wider. Tilt the screen down a little. Good. Now, take the leash and smack it across your belly.

Pri sat, shamelessly exposed, and held the middle of the leash. From this angle everything was on display for him. She flipped it lightly against her belly.

No, dingbat, harder. Smack yourself.

She took a breath and swung the leash, snapping it against her belly. The lash was hard enough to make her twitch.

Harder.

She smacked herself again, harder, and jumped at the pain.

Now, you are going to punish yourself. I want strokes that hard. One on each breast, two on your belly, one on the inside of each thigh, and one right between your legs. You will tell me you're sorry after each lash. If you do not do it hard enough, I will send out the video.

Pri frowned in dismay. This was going to hurt. She tentatively swung and slapped her breast.

No, harder.

She swung again, hard, and yelped at the sting across her breast.

"I'm sorry."

Next.

She slashed herself again, this time on the other breast. The angle made it difficult to control the impact, and she yelped again, rubbing her breast as she looked back at the camera.

"I'm sorry."

Next she smacked her belly, but was instantly chastised for not hitting hard enough. She lashed herself again, harder, and then again. The strikes on her inner thighs were shockingly painful, causing her to gasp in pain. She paused to gather her resolve for the final strike, wondering if she could angle it so that it wouldn't strike her most sensitive spot. It turned out it barely mattered, the pain being so sharp she dropped the leash and furiously tried to rub the sting away. Breathing hard, she looked back at the chat window.

Start again, same things.

Pri sucked in a breath and braced herself. She had never been so sorry about anything in her entire life. Her strikes became more erratic, causing her to yelp and thrash. The final lash between her legs made her ball up in agony.

Again.

"No, please, it hurts."

If you like, I can just send the email. Your choice. Again.

Pri leaned back and steeled her nerves, taking several deep breaths to get ready. She swung at her breast and knew immediately it wasn't hard enough.

"Sorry, let me try again.

She swung again, this time hitting herself square on her nipple, causing her to hiss in pain. Gritting her teeth, she whipped the next three out in quick succession, not giving herself time to worry about how much they hurt. Breathless, she paused to prepare for the final three. Red welts ran across her chest, her belly, her thighs. She laid on a strike on both her thighs and then paused once more to gather her courage. Again the stroke on her pussy was so painful she balled up in misery. She started pleading, telling him how sorry she was through her tears.

Enough. Time for bed.

"Thank you, thank you. I'm so sorry."

He had her get ready for bed, this time reciting "slut" with each stroke of her hair brush. Next, it was time for the bathroom. He refused to let her take off the collar, so she tucked her tee over it as she ran to bathroom. Mercifully, she saw no one in the few minutes she was out of her room. After taking care of her bathroom needs, she returned for bed. She stripped and then he had her put the sweatbands on her wrist. Next, he had her affix the C-clamps to the head of her bed frame. He then had her attached the loop of one end of the bike cable to her wrist with a Velcro strap. Finally, she had to feed the cable through the C-clamps, attaching the other end to her other wrist. The effect was simple: when she laid down, her hands were loosely bound above her head. It wasn't tight, and she could pull her hands together to undo the straps, but they were not able to get below her shoulders while bound. After several false starts, she finally got the hang of it and settled into bed under her sheet. Now there was no way she could touch herself.

Pri laid in bed, staring at the ceiling in the darkness. She felt incredibly guilty. The events of the night had frightened her. A few more keystrokes and that video could have been out in the world for her peers to see, her life ruined. She thought about what he had said, that last weekend she had been fun and carefree. She had been happy. Today she had been obstinate. It had clearly angered him, and she felt foolish for having done that. All her stubbornness had gotten her was in more trouble.

Slowly it dawned on her that she also felt hot, the welts across her body raw and alive. She tried to ignore the heat radiating across her skin from her whipping, but just moving under the sheet made her skin sing with pleasure. Every breath reminded her of what she had done. She was also aware that she was completely turned on. As she replayed the humiliating events at the pet store in her head, she squeezed her thighs together in a futile attempt to stimulate herself. The only thing she succeeded in doing was frustrating herself even more. Finally she fell in a restless sleep, one filled with dreams of her being paraded around with a dog collar around her neck.

When her alarm went off the next morning she jerked in the confusion of not being able to move her hands. After taking off the straps, she continued with her new morning routine of a run, only remembering at the last second to take off the collar. In the shower she examined her body, relieved that all the marks from the previous night has disappeared. As she carefully shaved away her pubic hair, she momentarily considered touching herself. The bright lights and idle chatter of other girls just a curtain away dissuaded her. After she returned to her room and took the required four different selfies, she left for Friday's classes.

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