Jeannie's Laptop Disaster

[litrob2000]

JEANNIE’S LAPTOP DISASTER

By Little Robbie

My alarm sounds at 7am, and I am startled out of a deep sleep. It takes a few seconds for the fog to clear. I’m Jeannie and I’m nearing the end of my second semester at Southern Nevada State University. I am behind in completing my final research paper for Sociology class. But I have a plan to devote the entire day today to completing it. It’s Sunday, and I have nothing else on my agenda today. Plus, my two housemates are away for the weekend and won’t return until late tonight. So I just might have a shot at getting this paper completed today, which is good because it’s due tomorrow morning!

My housemates and I rent a small house just off-campus. Two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs, and downstairs there’s a living room, kitchen, and another bedroom. So, the three of us sharing one bathroom is often pretty challenging, but today the bathroom is all mine. I take a nice long shower, then back to my room to get dressed. My underwear drawer is down to one bra and one pair of panties (both plain white) which I put on. I finish with a comfortable tee shirt and shorts, and my coziest slippers.

My breakfast is pretty unexciting, just some blueberry yogurt and toast. And coffee, I definitely need coffee to get my brain started. My laptop is on the dining room table, and I slip into a high-backed chair and open it, which boots it up. I don’t even look at my email, I’ve got to focus totally on this research paper. Most of the research is done, I just have to get the paper written, and I’m certain it will take all day. On my desktop, I double-click to open the file folder “Research Paper Sociology”, but instead of seeing the folder contents, I see an alert window:

THIS FOLDER AND ALL OF ITS CONTENTS ARE NOW LOCKED.
TO REGAIN ACCESS TO IT, PLACE A FACE-TIME PHONE CALL TO 646-926-6614. USE AIR-PODS.
IF NO CALL IS RECEIVED BY THE END OF THE DAY, THE FOLDER WILL BE DESTROYED.

I’m stunned. I’m staring at the screen and reading the message again and again. I decide to re-start my laptop. Same result. This has got to be a prank! Bad timing! I’m pissed! Who would . . . ? I suppose the only way to find out is to call that phone number. I open face-time, enter the numbers, and hit the phone icon. The call is picked up right away.

I see a close-up of a face. But not a recognizable face. This face has a large pig-nose disguise and large round sunglasses. It is smiling an evil grin at me. “Good morning, Jeannie! I see you found my message. Thanks for calling. I suppose you would like access to your computer files.”

This is unbelievable! “Look! Who are you? I don’t need this prank right now, I have to get this research paper done by tomorrow morning, so I need to start working on it right now! Who is this?”

Pig-face is still smiling. “Jeannie, this is not exactly a prank. Technically, I guess you could call it a transaction. I have something that you want, and I’m going to explain to you how to get it back. Simple really. Would you like to know what you have to do to get your files back?”

“What?! What are you talking about?! Give me back my files right now! I need to get to work!”

“Jeannie, you can stamp your little foot all day, that’s not going to get your files back. Shall I tell you what you have to do?”

“Oh . . . I guess. Just . . . just tell me.”

Pig-face keeps smiling back at me. “You are going to have to successfully perform a series of dares I will give you, using this face-time hookup to confirm that you are doing them exactly as I describe. These dares will be pretty embarrassing, some of them will be very humiliating. Most of them will require you to be naked.”

I hung up right there. This can’t be happening. There HAS to be another way to get access to my files. I will try calling Carl; he’s a computer guy. He picked up his cell right away.

“Hello, Jeannie!”

“Hi, Carl, sorry to bother you, but I am having a serious problem with my laptop. There is a very valuable folder full of research materials, and it is being held hostage by someone I don’t know.”

Carl knew right away. “Oh, a ransomware attack! Wow! I’m not sure I can help, but let’s try giving me access to your laptop, and I’ll see what I can do. Do you see an email from me?”

“Oh! Yes, I see it.”

“Open it and click the URL.”

“Okay, done.”

“Right, it worked! I am working in your laptop now. Is this the folder, Research Paper Sociology?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“Okay, give me a minute to see what I can do.” After a minute or so, I hear, “SHIT! Now I’m infected! Whoever is holding your files hostage just sent a poison pill of some sort to my laptop, and I’m losing some files. Sorry, Jeannie, I have to go!” The call ends.

Shit! This is bad! I give up, I don’t have any other resources for this, and there is no way I can re-do all of that research in a day. I’ll have to try to appease Pig-face somehow. I took a big breath and once again placed a face-time call to his number. He answered right away.

“Jeannie! I thought I’d hear from you again. Listen, I did not appreciate your friend trying to meddle in our transaction here. That will cost you one penalty! Assuming, of course, that you are ready to accept my terms. Ready to perform the dares I will be sending your way.”

I hesitated. Could I really do this? My research paper was too important, I had to do it. “Yes, yes, I accept.”

“That’s the spirit! But I really need you to prove that you are agreeing to my terms. So, dear Jeannie, to prove your obedience. First of all, place your phone leaning against your laptop screen so the camera captures your whole upper body. That’s it. Now, as a gesture of compliance . . . bare your boobs! Pull your tee shirt and bra up.”

Ugh, he’s wasting no time. I comply. My breasts are bared, and I shudder at the feeling of helplessness and shame at showing my embarrassing B-cup breasts to a total stranger.

“Okay, well that’s not very impressive! And your little nips are soft. So let’s start by playing with your nipples for a full 60 seconds. Squeeze ‘em, and twist ‘em. And while you’re doing that, repeat this phrase: Hi, I’m Jeannie! I’m a virgin and a freshman at Southern Nevada State University, and I love to humiliate myself in public.”

I close my eyes and beg the floor to swallow me up. I starting pinching and twisting my nipples while reciting, “Hi, I’m Jeannie! I’m a virgin and a freshman at Southern Nevada State University, and I love to humiliate myself in public.” Over and over, for a full minute.

“Alright, you can pull your top back down now. That was just an appetizer. You’ll be happy to know that I have a full morning planned for you, so let’s get started. I’m sure you want to get back to finishing your research paper. I see you’ve done a lot of research already, and if you perform all of my dares perfectly and without hesitation, you might be able to get back to work by twelve noon.”

By noon?! That’s cutting it pretty tight. I can see an all-nighter in my future. “Okay, let’s get going. What’s next?”

“Right! Open your front door – you will find a box for you there. Open it.”

I open the door, and retrieve the package, a plain brown box labeled JEANNIE in red magic marker. I open it and see several smaller boxes labeled A, B, C, and so on. “Okay, the box is open.”

“Open only Box A.”

It’s a small box, which I rip open to find a mask of some sort. Oh, it’s a blindfold with an elastic strap around the back. All black. Sigh. Goodie . . .

“Now, dear Jeannie, grab hold of your blindfold and your phone, and move over so you’re standing right in front of your living room picture window. Now put your phone on the window sill so the camera captures your full body, including your face.”

I comply, starting to get fearful about this. I am standing about six feet back from the window, and I’m looking out onto our small front yard with the sidewalk and street beyond. Several people walk past, and many cars drive by. I wonder how visible I am from the outside.

“You’re too far back. Take one big step forward.”

I was afraid of that. Stepping forward. Now I’m pretty sure that I’m easily visible to anyone who happens to look in this direction.

“There you go. Now put on the blindfold. Make sure it’s covering your eyes completely.”

I do it. I am in blackness. I have no idea who might be looking in. My knees are getting weak.

“Now, I’m going to play a tune for you to dance to. And I want to see your sexiest dancing. Tits forward, legs apart, booty twerking. Got it, Jeannie dear?”

“Y-yes, I guess”

The song starts up. It’s Chris Isaac’s “Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing”. Ugh, good song, but kinda raunchy. I start dancing, but I’m not sure I can be sexier than my typical shrugging and sliding. I move my feet apart and pull my elbows back to push my boobs out.

Apparently not good enough for Pig-face. He’s talking over the music. “Come on, Jeannie, get with it. Let’s see some serious twerking! I want to see you thrusting that pussy! Do it!”

I do my best. I’ve never tried twerking before, not even in my bedroom mirror. This is going to take some practice. Just how far forward can I push my pelvis, anyway?

“That’s a little better, but y’know, I’m not getting a hard-on watching this. I think we’ll have to get some of your clothes off to do the trick. Shoes and socks off now!”

I was afraid of this. How far will I have to go? Taking off my shoes and socks while dancing – and blindfolded – is not easy. I do it as quickly as I can, tossing them back behind me. I resume dancing, now trying to imitate the go-go dancers that I’ve seen in some 60s movies. Maybe that’ll work.

“Now let’s get those shorts off.”

Uh-huh. Okay, unbuttoning my shorts and letting them slide down my legs. I kick them backwards.

“Nice legs, baby! Now toss the top.”

Naturally, that would be next. I pull the tee shirt up and over my head, being careful not to dislodge the air pods. I toss it back, and I’m suddenly super-aware of being very exposed, now in just my bra and panties. I’m scared to death that there are people looking at me through the front window. And I’m hoping against hope that I won’t need to take off my underwear – surely this is as embarrassed as he will make me be. I concentrate on my dancing.

Pig-face looks like he’s actually drooling. “You’re a pretty sexy girl, you know that? But your dancing leaves a lot to be desired if you want to get me hard. I think we’d better lose the bra next.”

Damn! “NO! I can’t do that! I just can’t!”

Pig-nose is suddenly furious! “I said take it off! Right now! No hesitating and no refusal! I can delete your research with the push of a button, and I already have the folder selected! Now take it off, and keep dancing!”

“Okay! Okay! I’ll . . . I’ll do it!” I resume my semi-sexy dancing, then reach behind me and un-hook my bra. I let the bra straps slip down my arms but hold up the bra cups for a moment. I know I have to do this, so I pull the bra away and toss it behind me. Now my two hands are the only things keeping my modesty.

“No hiding, Jeannie. Get your arms away from your tits.”

I do it, and I feel like I’m in another world. No one is watching this, right?! This is really just a nightmare, right?!

“Yes, let’s have a good look at those boobies! Not much there, but at least you’ve got a pair of apples there to show off. And the nipples look ripe for tasting! Ummm! Give them a few sexy shakes for the viewers outside.”

Argh! Viewers! Was he making this up? I guess I’ll never know. I do my best to shimmy my tits, but I’ve never done this before. Is this working for him?

“Good try, but there’s not a lot to work with, is there?” My face is burning with shame. I don’t reply. “If you really want to get me hard, you’ve got to get those panties off.”

This is what I’ve been dreading. I can do this. I can do this. Just reach down . . . Next thing I know, my panties are around my ankles. I kick them back. I am completely naked, in front of a window, blindfolded, and dancing! My pussy is on full display. It has a light covering of wispy blond pubic hair – to match my hair – and it’s starting to get a little puffy. And . . . wet?

“Open your legs more! That’s it! Wow, your pussy is beautiful and sensual! I’m loving this! I want to reach out and finger you to orgasm! Keep twerking, Jeannie, you’re actually starting to get an erection out of me.”

I’m humiliated beyond anything I could imagine. It’s actually worse being blindfolded than being able to see. I am imagining the worst. Dozens of people gathered outside, watching me gyrate and thrust, bare naked and shameless. Will this music never end?!

“Jeannie, dear, turn around so we can see your butt!”

I gladly do it. I’m actually grateful to no longer be exposing my boobs and pussy. And I do have, in my humble opinion, a pretty sexy butt – curvy and tight, and just the right size. The song is still going, so I’m still dancing, praying that this will be over soon. Aha! It’s coming to the end. I throw my arms up in triumph.

“Congratulations, Jeannie! Turn around and take a bow. Smile for your audience. That’s right. Okay, turn back around and take another bow, but first separate your legs even more. Now take a deep bow – no, I mean a VERY DEEP bow. Grab your ankles. Now, stay down like that until I release you.”

SHIT! Now, in addition to my butt, I’m showing off my butt-hole and vulva to the outside audience. I’ve never been this humiliated. Ever. I HAVE TO get out of this, but he won’t let me up.

“Now, stay still. I’m zooming your camera – I have a cool, but illegal, app for that! – and now I’m seeing an excellent close-up of your vagina. Just checking . . . YES! You are quite moist down there, Jeannie! You’re beginning to leak! You must be getting a little turned on by this!”

“WHAT?! NO, I am definitely NOT getting turned on. This is the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.”

“Well, the audience is certainly loving this, they’re going absolutely crazy! Just think what kinds of fun conversations you will be having at school next week!” Yeah, right. “Now get up and step back away from the window. Then you can take the blindfold off.”

I’m sweating and exhausted from all the dancing, but happy to be out of the window and able to see again. “Can I get dressed now?”

“Hmm. No, I think you’re going to be bare-ass naked for a little while yet. By the way, I notice that your phone battery is running low. Open the next box in the package.”

I open box B to find a small portable charger with a cable attached. “Keep your phone plugged into that for the rest of the morning. I wouldn’t want to miss anything. Heh. Heh.”

He’s thought of everything. I get it plugged in, and I see the little lightning bolt on the screen. “Alright, it’s charging now.”

“Good, now I want you to open box C.”

I grab box C and work it open. It contains a selfie stick, but this one is a stand, with feet that fold out and a telescopic upright.

“You’re going to need that for our next dare. Waddya say, let’s go out to the back yard. Oh, and grab a pillow from your sofa.”

Shit, now I’m going outside. Naked.

Pig-face is sporting a huge grin. “Beautiful day, don’t you think, Jeannie?”

“It WOULD BE if I could be working on my research paper! How much longer am I going to be humiliated today?”

“Oh, a little while longer. I’m having a blast! Really enjoy looking at your cute bare-ass body! So, now, walk out to the middle of your back yard, and take your phone, the charger, the selfie stand, and the pillow with you.”

I comply. Our backyard has a fence around it, but the fence is only about five feet high, so it would not be difficult for any of our neighbors to see what I’m doing out here. I hope this is over quickly. And quietly.

“Attach your phone to the selfie stand and raise it up to waist-high. Now set the stand in the grass right where you’re standing, and aim the camera away from the house and down slightly, so that the grass is filling most of the frame. Select “2” for a close-up.

I set this up as instructed, and I can almost see where this is headed . . .

“Now lie down in the grass about four feet past the camera, FACE DOWN and facing away from the camera, so that your butt is just above the middle of the camera frame.”

Yeesh! Okay, I’m lying down in the grass, which is still a little moist from morning dew. I place myself where the framing is about what he asked for.

“Now, slide over to your right a few inches. That’s it, perfect. Now separate your legs. More. That’s good now. Are you comfortable, Jeannie?”

“I guess I’m as comfortable as possible, given that I’m lying naked in the wet grass in my back yard, where any of my neighbors can see me. Let’s get this over with, please! Now what?”

“I want your left arm extended upwards, with your hand above your head. And I want your right hand reaching down and masturbating your clitoris and vagina.”

Wh- Did I hear him right? He wants me masturbating in my own back yard? NO! I cannot do this, I just can’t. “Uh . . . no, I can’t do this! There must be something else embarrassing I can do! Please, don’t make me do this!”

“Well, I do have an alternative.”

“Great! Just tell me, I’ll do it!”

“I could hit the delete button on my laptop and watch all of your sociology research disappear forever . . . “

“NO! No! I’ll . . . I’ll do it. I’ll do it. Shit! Okay, how long do I have to finger myself?”

“Just until you have diddled yourself to TWO ORGASMS. That’s all. And no faking – I can always tell.”

I get to work as quickly as I can. I part my labia and curl my middle finger down the length of my vulva, trying to get my juices flowing. Really difficult, given the depth of my humiliation, lying here with my face in the grass. I close my eyes and concentrate on my clitoris, which is slowly coming to life. I twirl the tip of my finger around it, over and over. I run my finger down to my vagina and probe that as vigorously as I can. Keeping my eyes closed, I start to pump rhythmically, in and out, in and out. Deeper and deeper. I can’t believe it, but my juices are flowing.

Even still, I can tell that getting to an orgasm is going to take a long time. My fingering is suddenly interrupted. “Jeannie, you are starting to look pretty hot there! Getting pretty juicy!”

Oh, god, I realize that my camera is doing a closeup of my pussy, my butt-hole, and my butt! How can I be doing this?! Gotta finish. Gotta finish. Two fingers now, plunging away in my vagina. I feel my butt riding higher and higher, and my legs are actually pulling farther apart to open up my vulva and increase the sensitivity! God, it feels like hours that I’ve been writhing on the grass!

“Go, Jeannie, go! You’re almost there, I can tell!”

I did not need this commentary. He’s interrupting my reverie. Shut up. Shut up.

Back to my clit, which is very swollen. Swirl it. Keep swirling it. I’m . . . I’m . . . AH! AH! OH, YESSSS! The orgasm jolts through me, and I feel my butt trembling. I collapse into the grass.

“Hey, that was pretty good, Jeannie! I knew you had it in you! I’m totally hard!”

Ugh. I got nothing.

“You’re halfway there. Just one more orgasm until you’re done with this dare. Let’s get going, Jeannie!”

I know, I know. I gotta do it all over again. But at least this time, I’m already lubed up and feeling a little sexy. My two fingers crawl back to my vagina and resume gently plunging in and out. Well, I have to admit, this feels very sexy now that I’m past the first orgasm. Once again, I closed my eyes and . . .

“Go, Jeanie, you’re looking hot! What do you guys think, is she hot or what?” I heard voices responding, “Oh yeah!” and “Definitely” and other muddled remarks.

My eyes spring open. What?! WHAT?!

“Wait a minute! Who is watching this with you, huh?! I thought this was just for you! What’s going on?”

“Oh, didn’t I mention that before? Yeah, we got a small gathering here. A few of your classmates. But no names, I promised anonymity – you’ll just have to guess which of your classmates are now intimately familiar with your naked tits and ass. But I’ll tell you, they are REALLY enjoying watching your juicy vagina and sexy butt right now. Don’t let us interrupt you, let’s get to that second orgasm.”

Arrrrghhhh. I can’t believe I’m on display to boys (and girls?) from school. I hate this! Got to get it over with! Got to get my fingers back to work. Despite the humiliation, I’m rubbing my clit like there’s no tomorrow. Many, many, many minutes later, I finally explode with another orgasm and collapse on the grass.

“Beautiful, Jeannie! You did it! You are one sexual chick, I’m telling you. Got another one in you? Just kidding. The masturbation dare is done.”

I’m breathing heavily, and I’m covered in sweat. But I’m done with this, and hopefully I can go back inside.

“However! You have one penalty to perform, so let’s get to that right now.”

Big sigh. “Uh, sure, I guess. Whatever.”

“Stay where you are, but reach over and grab that sofa pillow you brought out. Slide that pillow under your hips, OK? Leave your legs where they are, and leave the phone camera where it is.”

I did the pillow, and now my ass is rudely thrust up in the air. What’s this about?

“Jeannie, your penalty is . . . a spanking! But since we’re all over here, and you’re the only one there, I guess you’ll have to spank yourself. I want twenty on each cheek. Make them good, hard, stinging spanks. Any spank that’s not hard enough, you’ll have to repeat it. And no rushing, at least a count of one thousand between each one. So . . . get going. And your fanny had better be bright red when you’re done!”

Shit! Spank myself, right here in the back yard! That’s why the pillow! And with my legs spread, my pussy and butt-hole are even more exposed than before! Okay, here we go. Right hand on right cheek. SLAP!

“Not even close, Jeannie! Much harder! That one didn’t count.”

Okay, okay! Again. SLAP! Ow!

“Closer, Jeannie, but you’re still not hard enough. You’re never going to get a cherry-red butt that way. Start over!”

Dammit! I don’t know whether I can hit harder than that. Okay, everything I’ve got. SLAP! Oh god!

“That’s just barely making it, Jeannie. Now, if you do one that’s less hard than that one, you’re going to START OVER FROM ONE. Get going! Twenty on each cute little cheek! And count them out!”

This is really hard. I’ve got no leverage, lying face-down and reaching behind me. But here I go.

SLAP! ACK! “ONE!”

SLAP! OOUUCHHH! “TWO!”

On and on, pummeling my right cheek. I’m screaming after ten. I finally get to twenty, hitting as hard as I can, and I’m certain I won’t be sitting on that side for a week!

“Halfway there, Jeannie, and your right cheek is VERY . . . VERY red. We’re all enjoying the heck out of this. Ready to start on the left cheek? Better hurry if you’re going to get that research paper done before tomorrow morning! Oh, and keep those legs spread for us.”

I take a big breath, and I shift my weight sideways a little. My left hand winds up and cracks my left cheek.

SLAP! Shit, that hurts like hell! “ONE!”

SLAP! DAMN DAMN DAMN! “TWO!” I don’t think I can possibly survive to twenty.

I keep going, my eyes crying and my feet shaking up and down. Are my screams drawing attention from my neighbors? I don’t want to know, so I keep my eyes closed.

After fifteen on the left, I stop. My ass is burning up from the pain. My arms lying at my sides. They can’t move.

“Oh, Jeannie! Jeannie! No pausing! My fingers are on my laptop keyboard. I’m staring right at your research paper folder. Another second and you’re going to lose it!”

I force myself to start back in, spanking my left butt cheek. Only five more to go.

SLAP!

“Harder! That one didn’t count.”

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP! OHHHHHH MY GOD. Am I really done with this torture?

“Jeannie, you made it through your penalty! And I can tell you that THAT is the reddest ass we’ve all every seen!”

I’m spent, truly. I look at Pig-face in my screen. “Are we done? Can I have my computer file back now? PLEASE?!

“Nope! Remember, the spanking was a penalty because you hung up on me this morning. That was not part of my dares. I’ve got one more for you to perform before you get your research back. So, get up, grab your stuff, and get back inside!”

Gotta get to the finish line soon! I walk back toward the house. I try not to look to either side, but I hear cheers from both sides. Ugh! My neighbors have seen me masturbating and spanking in my backyard! I may have to move now . . .

Inside the back door, I brush off the grass and dirt that I picked up outdoors. Pig-face gives me my next instructions.

“Toss the pillow back onto the sofa, and unlock your front door.”

“Wha . . . why in the world . . .”

Pig-face looks peeved. “No questioning, just do it.”

I do NOT want any more penalties. I turn the lever and the button in the knob, so my front door is unlocked to anyone who . . . I try not to think about this any further.

“Jeannie, grab the last two boxes out of your package, and let’s head up to your bedroom.”

I get the boxes and go upstairs to my bedroom, my phone and selfie stand in tow. I’m told to open box D. It’s a small vibrator.

“That’s a remote-controlled vibrator. And guess who will be at the controls!” Pig-face is smiling at me.

This does not bode well. Now I’m to open box E. In it, I find two sets of handcuffs and two six-foot lengths of cotton rope. Great.

“Alright, Jeannie, using the selfie stand, raise your camera up to shoulder height and set it up on the side of the bed opposite the door, and far enough back to get the whole bed in the frame. Use landscape mode here. And open your window shades or drapes. That’s it, good.

“Take a good look in box E – there should be a handcuff key in there. There, yeah, that’s it, now hang onto it. Lie down on your bed, face up. Pillow under your head if you want – you (ahem) might be here awhile. Now, use the two ropes to tie your ankles to the bottom corners of the bed, so your legs are spread far apart.”

I’m glad I’m in decent shape, because it was NOT easy tying my own ankles to the bed, especially with my legs spread wide like this. But I got it done.

“So, now I want you to slip the handcuff key right into your vagina.”

Uh-HUH! I . . . guess I can do that. If I have to. There! Kinda cold, but tolerable. “Okay, it’s in there.”

“Push it in all the way. That’s it. Now, attach one half of each handcuff to each wrist, and close them tightly, so they’re locked shut.”

Hmm, I’m not liking this. But, if it’ll get me my research paper back . . .

“Now, switch the vibrator on and get it situated so it’s resting tight against your clit. Tight enough so it won’t slip out.”

“Okay, I think I got it. Now what do I do?”

“Now we’ll run a test on the vibrator. Hold on.”

I feel a tickle in my clit, then it begins to increase into a vibration. “OH! I feel it!”

”Very good, we’re all set now. Okay, this is a little tricky, but I want you to stretch both arms up and out, then snap the other half of each handcuff to one of the metal bars that are part of your decorative headboard. Got it?”

I guess I can do this. Not easy, but not impossible. After a few tries, I finally get both handcuffs snapped and locked. I am now bound spread-eagled and naked on my bed, with the key to the handcuffs buried in my vagina and a remote-controlled vibrator nestled tightly between my labia and up against my clitoris. What could possibly go wrong!!

“Okay, I got it done! Now what?”

“So, Jeannie, just relax and let the vibrations work on you.”

I comply, but I’m not what you would call relaxed. The vibrations are tickling my clitoris, and despite the fact that I’m tightly bound to the bed and all alone in my house, I’m involuntarily getting turned on. I close my eyes and try concentrating on my Sociology paper. After ten minutes or so of gradually increasing vibrations, my clit is feeling a bit wet, and – dammit! – an orgasm is starting to build. “Umm.”

I hear Pig-face chuckle (fucker!). “Getting wet, are you?”

I can’t be, but I am. My body wants it, even though my mind doesn’t. I feel the orgasm approaching. I can’t find the will to suppress it. I’m getting sent over the edge. “Ohhh! OHHH!

Suddenly, the vibrations stop. “WHAT! What happened?! It stopped!”

“Heh-heh! So sorry! You thought this was gonna be easy, didn’t you?”

“You . . . you got me all hot, then you stopped the vibrator. What’s that about?”

“Just – y’know – relax and enjoy the vibrations, okay?” Pig-face is gonna play with me.

I lie there for a few minutes and calm down. Then I feel the vibe start up again. As before, it slowly increases, and I feel my juices rising again. The vibe gets more intense and doesn’t let up, gradually pushing me to the brink of an orgasm . . . then, OFF!

“Arghhhh! NO, not again!” I hate this! It is amazingly frustrating and humiliating, being controlled by this guy and totally at his mercy. And his amusement.

Another sequence. Once again, stopped at the edge. And again. And again.

“STOP! I hate this! I need to . . . I need to get off!”

“I don’t know, Jeannie, I’m really enjoying torturing you!”

I’m sweating like crazy. And my pussy is sopping wet! “You fucker! I’ve got to get off!”

“Okay, I MAY let you do that, but only if you do exactly as I say. Here it is. Repeat after me: I’m a naked whore, please let me cum.”

Shit! I’m going to have to do this. “I’m a naked whore, please let me cum.”

“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you.”

Okay, louder. “I’m a naked whore, please let me cum!”

“Louder!”

“I’M A NAKED WHORE, PLEASE LET ME CUM!”

“Again. And you’re BEGGING me, aren’t you?”

“I AM A NAKED WHORE, PLEEEAAASE LET ME CUM!” This is soooo humiliating! Can my neighbors hear this?

“That’s better, dear Jeannie. Now let’s get the vibrations going again.”

The vibe comes alive. My clit by now is huge and very sensitive. The vibe cranks up even higher. My whole BODY is vibrating. In no time, I’m over the edge. “YES! YESSSS! OH GOD! OHHHH GOD! UHHHHHH!”

Holy shit, this was the most explosive orgasm I’ve ever had! If I weren’t tied down, I’d roll up into a little ball and start buzzing.

”Did you enjoy that, Jeannie? I know all of us did!”

I’m too spent – and humiliated – to answer.

“So, right about now, you’re probably asking yourself how you are going to get released from the bed, since the key to your handcuffs is in your cute little cunt.”

Actually, I hadn’t reasoned that far in advance. How the hell do I get out of this? “Um, yeah, I need to get unlocked. I’m hoping you have a plan for that?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. You are going to need the assistance of another person who can retrieve the key and unlock your handcuffs. I will help you with that, but there are rules. You must call someone you know who is a MALE student at the university. You must call him and convince him to come over and help you get loose.”

Well, shit! The final humiliation. I have to invite a boy classmate to come to my place and put his fingers in my vagina! I’m red-faced just thinking about this. “Yeah, okay, so how do we do this exactly?”

“First, select the lucky student. It must be someone whose phone number is in your contacts.”

Jesus, who to select? The only boy I can trust with this, to not brag about it to all of his friends, is Eddie Bishop. I don’t really know him very well – he is in an English Lit study group with me – but none of the other boys I know are very trustworthy. “I select Eddie Bishop. I think he’s in my contacts.”

“Right! So here’s how this will work. I will add him to our call by placing a face-time call from your phone. I will turn off my video, but I will leave your video on. That way, Eddie will be able to see what a humiliating predicament you’ve gotten yourself into. Understand?”

Sigh. “Yes, I get it. And once I am released, you will unlock my research folder, right?”

“Actually, I have already released your research folder. All you have to do it get unlocked, then you can get back to work.”

“Let’s do it, I need to get started on my paper.”

I hear my phone dialing, and then Eddie answering. “Hello?”

“Eddie! I’m so glad you’re there. This is Jeannie Taylor. We’re in English Lit together?”

“Oh, yeah! Jeannie! I know you . . . but . . . um, what am I looking at here? Someone is tied down to a bed?”

“Yes, that’s me, and, yes, I’m tied down to my bed. It was . . . a dare that got out of hand. Without getting into the details, I need someone to come over to my house and help me get untied. Could I ask you to help me?”

“Well, I am sort of in the middle of something, but I can leave here in about fifteen minutes. What’s your address?”

“It’s 317 Chestnut. The front door is unlocked. Please hurry.”

“I’m close by. Be there is twenty minutes, Jeannie. And by the way, you have an amazing body.”

“Um, thank you. I guess. Bye, Eddie.”

“Okay. Bye.”

The call ends, and Pig-face’s video starts up again. “There you go. Only twenty minutes until you are released. Tell you what, while we’re waiting for Eddie, let’s play with the vibrator a little more.”

“NO! Please leave me alone! I don’t need any more vibrating!”

The vibe once again springs to life on my clit. “Oh, nooooo! Shit!”

Pig-face is chuckling. And I hear some cheering in the background. Ohmygod. “Jeannie, I just want to help you bide your time until you friend Eddie arrives. You know you’re going to enjoy this.”

The vibe has me going again. Dammit! And there’s only so much I can do to try to ignore it. Because it really does feel good. AH! The vibe just dialed up. It’s now pushing me toward the edge. I’m going with it. Eyes closed. Almost there. “Ohhhhh!”

The vibe stops! “No! Not again! I can’t do this again!”

“Sure you can, Jeannie. You know you’re lovin’ it. Ready for more?”

“NO, I’M NOT! DON’T DO IT!” But the vibe starts up again. Drives me to the edge again. Stops again just as I’m about to cum. Pig-face is delighted, but I’m incredibly frustrated, and I’m leaking like crazy! “Just stop it, OKAY? I really can’t take any more of this!”

“Now, now. Won’t be much longer, just until Eddie arrives.”

Again, the vibe starts up and, despite my resistance, gradually pushes me toward an orgasm that I suspect will never happen. More leaking. Another frustrating halt, just when I was almost there. “ARGH! STOP IT! FUCK YOU!”

“Uh, hello? Jeannie, is that you?”

OMG, it’s Eddie. My hero. “Oh, hi, Eddie. Yes, this is me. Please disregard my shouting there, I’m . . . um . . . still finishing the dare. All clear now. Heh-heh!”

Eddie’s eyes are big as saucers, taking in my naked body, spread out before him like a damsel in distress. “Wow, this is some predicament you got yourself into. How can I help you get out of this?”

“Well, ahem, a little embarrassing. As you can see, my hands are locked by handcuffs. In order to release me, you have to unlock the handcuffs. And the key to my handcuffs is . . . well . . . it’s in my vagina.”

“In your vagina? Is that what you said? You actually want me to search your vagina to retrieve a handcuff key?”

“Well, yes, that’s it, I’m afraid. It’s a long story. But are you okay with this?”

“Yes, I suppose I am. Let me just get up onto the bed and have a look.”

I am blushing like mad. A boy I barely know is checking out my pussy. “Eddie, you will notice a vibrator on my clitoris – again, it’s a long story. Please remove the vibe first, before you deal with my vagina.”

“Okay, I see the vibrator, and I am pulling it out. So now I can have a look at your vagina. I’m going to insert one or two fingers to look for the key, is that okay?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Okay, inserting my fingers now. It’s . . . um . . . pretty wet in here.”

“Oh, it is?” was my lame – and pathetic – response. Jesus, how much more embarrassed could I possibly be? I feel his fingers inside me. Um-mm! I wonder which is going to happen first, whether he finds the key, or I have an orgasm. Seriously. I’m heating up fast from his fingers probing. Take your time, Eddie, I’m in no hurry. I’m in no . . . Oh-h-h-h . . . it’s coming on fast! I’m gonna explode, I’m . . . “OH! . . . YES!!! . . . OHMYGOD!”

Ohmygod is right. Did I really just cum . . .

“Jeannie, I GOT IT. I got the key. It practically slid out when . . . uh, you know.”

No end to the embarrassment. A boy I barely know just fingered me to a huge orgasm.

“Okay, I’m drying off the key. Now I’ll try the key in your right handcuff.”

I hear a click. YES! It worked! My right arm is free.

“And now the left handcuff.”

Click. Left arm is free. Whew! I lean forward to untie my ankles, and Eddie is helping me with the knots. When I finally get up off the bed, I see Eddie standing there holding my bathrobe open. What a sweet guy!

“Eddie, you’re my hero! Thank you a million times!”

“You’re very welcome. But how . . . ”

“It really is a long story, and I’ll tell it to you one of these days, but I have a Sociology deadline to meet, and I’ve got to get back to my laptop. Maybe we can talk about it over dinner sometime soon. I’m buying.”

“Yes, Jeannie, I’d like that. See ya later.” He starts for the door.

“EDDIE, WAIT! Please promise me that you won’t tell anyone about this embarrassing little episode. No one, and I mean NO ONE!”

“No worries, Jeannie. I won’t say a word.” And with that he’s down the stairs and out the front door. I retrieve my phone and see that the face-time event with Pig-face has ended. I quickly get dressed and hustle downstairs to make sure my Sociology folder is, indeed, unlocked. I am relieved to see it open without any problems. Everything is there, so I can get to work on my paper.

However, I notice a new email in my Inbox. It is from NEMESIS. I don’t recognize that, but I open it anyway, expecting the worst.

THAT WAS A VERY SEXY PERFORMANCE THIS MORNING, JEANNIE. I’VE GOT IT ALL RECORDED, AND YOU CAN SEE IT ON THIS WEBSITE: WWW.JEANNIE-TAYLOR-GETS-NAKED.EDU. THIS WEBSITE IS AVAILABLE FOR YOU TO VIEW, BUT IT IS NOT PUBLIC. YET. I’LL GET BACK TO YOU SOON TO DISCUSS HOW TO KEEP THIS WEBSITE FROM GOING PUBLIC. EXPECT MY CALL. NEMESIS.

I feel compelled to visit the website, just to see what he has put up. Sure enough, it is filled with videos of me. Dancing, stripping, masturbating, spanking, staked out on my bed – the whole thing. I am NOT looking forward to hearing from Pig-face again.

In the meantime, I have a Sociology research paper to write. Probably take an all-nighter.

THE END

[student]

Poor Jeannie's problems seem to be just beginning. What next? Will her Sociology paper get rejected as plagiarism? What will Jeannie have to do to avoid being expelled? Then there's the problem of being publicized on the World Wide Web. She reached out for help to a computer guy who experienced computer infection--that must have cost that computer shop lost time and possibly damaged equipment--and lost revenue because the shop had to deal with the trojan. There are three people minimum--"pigface," the computer guy, and the rescuer. Then there are all the people who will gain access to the file on-line and whoever saw Jeannie's naked antics.
This day was just the beginning.

[Legoman2]

Does the website actually work?

[litrob2000]

I sure hope not!

[imanewb]

Does the website actually work?

Well without clicking on it, all I can say is it shouldn't... given the constraints on owning an edu TLD. Saying that, of course, the link needn't match the displayed text... so could it link to deviantart/similar?

edit: hovering shows the link matches the text, so I'll revert to 'it shouldn't'

[Casanova]

Another superb story

[Drax6119]

I suspect "sweet" Eddie of actually being Pig-Face...