Samantha’s Terrible Day

[Realbatman9001]

A loud buzz echoed through the room. Samantha lay sprawled across her bed, her blonde curls a tangled mess. The first alarm barely registered. The second made her stir. By the third, she groggily lifted her head, then flopped back down. It wasn’t until the fifth blare that her eyes finally cracked open.

She grabbed her phone and squinted at the time.

7:30 AM.

“Crap!” she gasped, bolting upright. “Class starts in thirty minutes!”

She flung off the covers and scrambled to her feet. There was no time to waste. Mr. Calloway hated late students, and she refused to be one of them. She had a reputation to uphold. She was the one who always sat up straight, always had the right answer, and always got a “Great job, Samantha” while everyone else got a generic nod.

Dashing to the bathroom, she flicked on the light and winced at her reflection. Her wavy blonde hair was a frizzy mess, flattened on one side and tangled on the other. Dark smudges clung beneath her blue eyes, making her look even paler than usual. Her fair skin, usually smooth, had faint creases from her pillow pressed into one cheek. She turned her head side to side, checking for blemishes, before sighing in frustration. She noticed the slight scatter of light freckles across the bridge of her nose, and the way her eyebrows were still a bit messy from sleep.

She yanked off her pajamas, revealing her slender legs and arms. She wasn't very curvy, but she had a wiry, athletic build from playing sports at school. Her shoulders were a bit narrow, and her hips were still developing, but she felt okay about her body, most of the time. Right now, though, all she could focus on was speed. She stepped into the shower, sucking in a sharp breath as the icy water hit her skin. She scrubbed shampoo through her hair, working it into a frantic lather despite the sting in her eyes. There was no way she was showing up with bedhead. Cameras might be optional, but she needed Mr. Calloway to see her at her best, polished, put together, and professional.

Samantha took the fastest shower of her life, the pounding water washing away the last traces of sleep. She barely rinsed the soap off before shutting off the water and grabbing a towel, wrapping it tightly around herself as she hurried back to her room. She checked her phone mid-sprint, her stomach dropping when she saw the time.

7:54 AM.

She had barely a few minutes to get dressed and turn on her computer. Panic surged through her as she yanked open drawers, tossing clothes aside in search of something, anything, to wear.

The towel slipped from her shoulders as she flung it away, shivering as the blast of cool air sent goosebumps racing down her arms. Her small breasts prickled with chill, and her nipples tightened, but she didn't have time to worry about it. She had to get dressed, and fast.

Samantha grabbed a shirt from the chaotic mess of clothes on her bed. It was a little snug, but it would have to do. The soft cotton caressed her skin, a gentle contrast to the chill of the morning air that prickled her arms and made her shiver slightly. She quickly pulled it on, the fabric clinging just a bit too tightly around her chest as she glanced at the clock again.

7:59.

Her pulse spiked, a rush of panic flooding through her. She didn’t have time for anything else. Without another thought, she sprinted to her desk, her bare feet slapping the cool floor, the sensation of each step reminding her how little time she had. She slammed her hand onto the power button of her computer, the familiar hum of the machine filling the otherwise quiet room. She clicked open the meeting link with frantic speed, praying it would load in time.

The screen flickered to life, casting a faint glow that illuminated her surroundings with an almost eerie softness. She briefly glanced down at her bare legs, still exposed to the cool air, but the thought was fleeting. She’d be sitting at her desk, and no one would be able to see her anyway.

Class was off to a decent start, despite Mr. Calloway's late arrival, which had left the students in a state of restless anticipation. The digital classroom was abuzz with chatter, the green screen function of the video call providing a welcome distraction from the morning's monotony. Someone had their background set to a tropical beach, complete with swaying palm trees and the sound of waves crashing in the distance. Another kid had swapped their room for the Eiffel Tower, the iconic landmark looming large behind them.

Samantha watched with a mixture of fascination and envy as the other students experimented with the green screen function. She had never used it before, and a spark of curiosity ignited within her. How hard could it be, really? She'd always been a bit of a tech novice, but she was determined to keep up with the others.

She hesitated for a moment, her finger hovering over the green screen button. What if she messed it up? What if she looked like a total idiot in front of the class? But she couldn't resist the temptation to try, and she clicked the button with a sense of trepidation.

The settings menu popped up, and Samantha's eyes scanned the options with growing confusion. She frowned, her mind racing with questions. What did 'background upload' mean, exactly? And what were all these other options for? She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should really do this. But her curiosity got the better of her, and she clicked on the 'background upload' option.

A window popped open, and Samantha's eyes widened as she scanned the list of files. What was she supposed to pick? Her mouse hovered over the pictures folder, her heart racing with anticipation. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should really do this. But her curiosity got the better of her, and she clicked the folder with a sense of trepidation.

As the screen flickered to life, Samantha's heart sank. The image loaded, and a her stomach sank with nausea. The picture that flashed onto the screen was one she had taken the night before, in the privacy of her own bathroom. It was a moment of curiosity, a tentative exploration of her own body, but she had never intended for anyone else to see it.

The image showed her standing in front of the mirror, her slender figure illuminated by the soft glow of the bathroom light. Her small breasts were visible, with tiny pink nipples that stood out against her pale skin. Her legs were slightly bent, and her pubic area was visible, with a fine coating of pubic hair that she had been trying to groom. The picture captured her in a vulnerable moment, her eyes cast downward as she examined her own body with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. Her reflection was intimate, a picture of raw self-exploration that she hadn’t meant to share.

Samantha's mind raced as she frantically tried to process what was happening. Was anyone seeing it? Could they see it? She had no idea how to fix it, but the shame, the fear, and the humiliation were already flooding her senses. She felt like her body was on display, like everyone in the class could see her naked and vulnerable. She quickly glanced around the chatroom, but the other students seemed oblivious, their faces focused on their own screens or the teacher's lecture.

She quickly glanced at the screen again, unsure of whether the other students could see what had just appeared. The image seemed to be frozen in time, a permanent reminder of her moment of vulnerability. She felt a wave of panic wash over her as she realized that she had no control over what was happening. It was too late to take it back, though. The moment hung in the air, and all she could do was try to stay calm and get through the rest of the class without drawing too much attention to herself.

Samantha's hands shook like a leaf as she frantically clicked around the screen, her mind racing with desperation. She tried to find the green screen settings again, but everything seemed to blur together in a mess of confusion. Her mouse hovered over the options, but none of the buttons seemed to work the way they were supposed to. The image was still there, lingering in the background, and her heart was racing like a jackrabbit with each passing second.

“Come on, come on,” she muttered under her breath, clicking wildly as her eyes darted between the screen and the laughing faces of her classmates. They were laughing at her, at her naked body, at her vulnerability.

“Holy shit, Sam! You’re giving us a show,” someone said, their voice dripping with amusement and a hint of perversion.

Samantha's face burned hotter than ever, her skin crawling with shame. She couldn't get it to disappear, couldn't get the screen to switch back to normal. The familiar icons on her computer now felt like foreign symbols, mocking her lack of understanding.

“Hey, Blondie, is that a new background? You're definitely giving us a peek at the goods,” Another voice rang out, trying to mask the laughter, but it didn't help. The comments were like a barrage of bullets, each one hitting her with a fresh wave of shame and embarrassment.

“I…I don't know how to fix it,” she mumbled, her voice small and barely audible. Her eyes welled up, but she blinked furiously, trying to keep it together as the laughter and comments continued.

“Damn, you're really putting on a show. I didn't know you were so... adventurous,” one of the boys teased.

The kids in the class started to get mean, their comments cutting deep. “Yeah, Teacher's Pet is a slut,” someone said, their voice dripping with venom. “I always knew you were a try-hard, Samantha Prewitt,” another kid chimed in.

Samantha felt a sting from the comments, her eyes welling up with tears. She had always tried to be the perfect student, to please the teacher and get good grades. But now, it seemed like that had backfired. The kids were using it against her, mocking her for being a goody-goody.

“Hey, Sammy, why don't you just take off your clothes and show us everything?” one of the kids sneered. “I mean, you're already naked on the screen. What's a little more, right?”

The class erupted into laughter again, the comments growing more vicious and more explicit. Samantha felt like she was trapped in a never-ending nightmare, with no escape from the humiliation and the mockery.

“Yeah, you're such a nerd. You think you're so perfect, but really you're just a freak,” another kid said, their voice dripping with contempt.

Samantha's mind was a mess of panic, her thoughts colliding in a jumbled mess of fear and shame. Her fingers were slick with sweat, and the class's teasing voices grew louder, more vicious. She made one final effort to get this to go away. She stood up and reached for the cord behind the desk.

In her panic, Samantha's trembling hands sent the webcam crashing off its stand, the device hitting the desk with a sharp, jarring smack that made her heart lurch like a skipped beat. The sound seemed to reverberate through her entire body, amplifying her distress as she felt her face grow hot with shame. Another wave of laughter washed over her, louder and more biting this time, with a mocking edge that made her skin crawl with humiliation.

“Woah!” a boy's voice rang out, laced with sadistic amusement, the tone dripping with condescension. “Didn’t know we had a pornstar in class,” he sneered.

Samantha's eyes darted wildly to the screen, and her stomach dropped like a stone in free fall as she was met with the unmistakable image of her own crotch. The webcam's lens was zoomed in on the tender flesh between her thighs, capturing every intimate detail with unflinching clarity. The soft folds of her skin, the faint wisps of hair on her slit, and every tiny movement she made seemed to reveal more than she could handle. Her face burned with mortification as she realized she was exposing herself to whoever was watching.

In a panic, Samantha tried to move to pull the cord, but as she did, her legs involuntarily parted, and her flower opened up, revealing even more of herself. With one final, desperate yank, the computer screen fizzled out, plunging her into darkness. As the screen went black, Samantha was met with her own reflection staring back at her from the dark glass. She looked disheveled, her shirt riding up past her belly button, her hair a mess.

"I really do look like a pornstar..." she cried into her hands, the humiliation and shame washing over her. At least the camera was off, and her nightmare was finally over. Or so she thought.

Samantha slowly got up from the chair, her legs trembling beneath her. She pulled off the shirt that had ridden up during her frantic attempt to shut off the camera, and let it fall to the floor. She was now standing in front of her dresser, naked as the day she was born. She searched for a fresh change of clothes, something to bring her back to some form of normal. As she rummaged through her drawer, her eyes wandered to her phone, which was lying on the bed. She picked it up, thinking she might need to call someone, maybe her best friend, to talk about what had just happened.

As she scrolled through her notifications, her heart sank. There was a message from her friend in class, accompanied by a screenshot that made her blood run cold. The image was a photo of her, taken from the webcam, showing her standing almost naked. Her breasts exposed and her face covered by her shirt. The message read: "You're still live, girl! I think you just turned your monitor off, but the camera is still on!" Samantha's eyes widened in horror as she realized that her exposure was far from over. The camera was still rolling, capturing every moment of her distress.

A scream began to build in her throat, growing in intensity until it finally burst forth in a deafening shriek. Samantha's voice echoed through the room, a primal release of terror and humiliation. She stood frozen, her phone still clutched in her hand, as the reality of her situation crashed down on her. The camera was still on, and she was still being watched.

[SixPathsKeyblader]

Poor Samantha. She's clearly not very tech savvy. Also, when uploading the background picture, why would she have picked such an intimate one like that? She's probably one of those people who don't name their files, and just leave them with the default "factory" names.

[Realbatman9001]

I mean that’s what my thought process was. She doesn’t get computers so clicked whatever she could

[Brightsun]

Brilliant

[PhillyPhan321]

Another great story. I don't care if you are posting with AI like someone else accused you of. If you are, you are working it in a great way!

[emobat]

An actual legit fear of mine, not so much the background change as we had school laptops but the camera falling while I didn't have pants or forgetting to turn it off before I changed

[Realbatman9001]

Another great story. I don't care if you are posting with AI like someone else accused you of. If you are, you are working it in a great way!

Thank you! What about my stories seem AI written though? I saw the comments but don’t know where they’re coming from.

[PhillyPhan321]

Another great story. I don't care if you are posting with AI like someone else accused you of. If you are, you are working it in a great way!

Thank you! What about my stories seem AI written though? I saw the comments but don’t know where they’re coming from.

I have no idea what they are talking about either man. Just keep doing what you are doing.

[Realbatman9001]

Thank you for the support! It really means a lot

[Realbatman9001]

Samantha rushed to the computer, her body trembled with panic as she desperately tried to stop the nightmare she was in. Each step felt like an eternity, her chest heaved with frantic breaths as her small breasts bounced wildly with every movement. She slammed her hands against the keyboard, hoping to hit any key, any combination, that would end the stream. Tears stung her eyes as she frantically pressed the Enter key, the Exit key, and any other key within reach, all while the cold, red light of the webcam glared at her like an accusing eye.

As she worked, her movements grew more frantic, and in her desperation, she knocked the webcam off the desk. It tumbled and rolled across the floor, coming to rest in a position she didn't notice, her panic-addled brain too focused on finding a solution to register the camera's new angle. The lens now faced between her legs, capturing the most intimate and vulnerable parts of her body. Her legs shook with anxiety as she sat with them open, her mind consumed by the singular goal of ending the call, unaware of the compromising position she was in.

Every part of her felt exposed, vulnerable, and on display. The cool air hit her naked skin, making her shiver, but she didn't notice, too caught up in her desperation. Her bare butt pressed against the hard chair as she scrambled to find the power cord under the desk, the feeling made her wince, but she didn't stop, driven by the need to end the class meeting. Each second seemed to stretch on forever, the panic threatened to suffocate her. She had no idea that the webcam, still live, might be showing everything to her classmates; the intimate folds of her vulva, the tender skin of her inner thighs, and the curves of her naked body.

Samantha's breath came in short, frantic gasps as she crouched beneath the desk, her fingers scrambled blindly for the power cord. The hard chair dug painfully into her bare skin as her panic grew. She couldn’t think, couldn’t focus, she just needed it all to stop.

Just as she was about to find the cord, the door creaked open. "Samantha? Are you okay?" her mom called from the doorway, her voice soft but filled with concern. Samantha whipped her head up too quickly, her forehead smacked against the edge of the desk. She gasped in pain, and as she jerked backward, her bare legs spread wide, exposing her completely. The chair tipped slightly as she scrambled to steady herself, but in that moment, everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. Her body was on full display, her mother stood just a few feet away, her gaze already locked on her and then they flashed down to her naked sex.

Her mom's eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in judgment. "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, her voice sharp and full of disgust. "Are you out of your mind?" Samantha's heart stopped, her face burned with shame.

Her mother's face twisted in disgust. "What is this, Samantha? You're sitting here naked with your legs wide open like some... like some... I don't even know what to say!" Her voice dropped to a low, mocking tone. "Are you showing off for someone like a whore, huh? Is this for some boy, or are you filming this for some dirty website? Is this what you've become now?" Samantha's eyes welled up with tears as she tried to defend herself, but her mother's expression didn't change.

"No, no, please, Mom, I wasn’t… I’m only fifteen,” Samantha’s voice cracked, desperate to explain, but the words stuck in her throat. Her mother’s harsh gaze cut through her like a knife.

"We'll talk about this later when your father gets home!" her mother snapped, her voice filled with anger. Before Samantha could even respond, her mother stormed out of the room, she was left alone and vulnerable. Samantha sat there, naked and trembling, tears streaming down her face. The hot droplets fell down her chest, which sent a chill through her as she continued to shake with humiliation.

Samantha was jolted from her spiraling thoughts by the sudden buzz of her phone. She rushed to her bed, her heart pounded in her chest, and quickly grabbed it, hoping for some distraction. When she looked at the screen, her stomach dropped. It was a message from an unknown number, and the image it contained made her blood run cold.

The picture on her phone took her breath away. It was shot from beneath her desk, an angle she hadn’t even realized was possible. Her legs were spread wide, exposing her in a way she had never intended. Her tear-streaked face contorted in desperation as she frantically searched for the power cord, her small, barely-there breasts hung awkwardly in the open, vulnerable and unprotected. The image felt like a violation, each detail more humiliating than the last.

The message that followed made her stomach drop. “Quite the show you put on, Sammy! We should talk about it in English class. You’ll know when it’s me.”

Samantha’s fingers trembled as she stared at the screen, her heart raced. Her thoughts scrambled, the words burning into her mind. She wished she could make them disappear, wished for this to be some terrible dream she could wake up from. But no matter how much she wanted it, she couldn’t escape the shame, the cold sweat that began to trickle down her back.

The rest of the day passed in a haze, but in typical Samantha fashion, she pushed through. After getting the computer turned off, finally, she threw on a dress and a pair of panties, now she felt at least somewhat human again. Sure, the events of the morning still hung over her like a dark cloud, but she wasn’t about to let it ruin her entire day. She didn’t have time for that kind of negativity.
Her mom didn’t say a word to her all day, which, honestly, was a relief. Samantha couldn’t handle another lecture right now. Instead of the usual awkwardness of trying to avoid eye contact, Samantha chose to just let the silence do its thing. She was cool with it. If her mom wasn’t going to talk to her, she wasn’t about to start.

She didn’t bother with breakfast or lunch. Honestly, the thought of facing her mom in the kitchen seemed like way too much effort. So, she scavenged for whatever she could find in her nightstand, chips mostly. Not exactly gourmet, but it worked. She washed them down with some water from the bathroom. Not the healthiest meal, but hey, it wasn’t like she was planning a marathon anytime soon.

The day wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. She was good at moving on from awkward situations. Sure, her mind kept jumping back to the whole webcam incident, ugh, who wouldn’t remember something like that? But Samantha wasn’t about to let it define her. She had bigger things to worry about, like surviving her next class.

And that was the problem. Her next class. She dreaded it, and she didn’t even want to think about it. The what-ifs were enough to make her want to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over her head. The thought of running into whoever had sent her that picture made her stomach do flips. But she wasn’t going to let it ruin her mood.

Samantha’s fingers hovered over her computer's keyboard as she reluctantly logged into English class. Her heart thudded in her chest, the weight of the morning’s events still fresh in her mind. She hated the awkwardness that came with having to face her classmates, but there was nothing she could do but power through it. It wasn’t like she could skip class forever.

The screen flickered, and the familiar Zoom classroom window popped up. Her stomach twisted when she saw the small chat box lighting up with messages. Great. She clicked to hide the chat, but it was too late. Some of her classmates were already joking about what had happened in math class.

“Yoo! Did anyone record math class today? I heard we got a special presentation?” one of the boys wrote, followed by a laughing emoji.

“Yeah, but there wasn’t much to see. I’ll send you what I got” another added with a laughing face and a wink emojis

Samantha’s face flushed. She didn’t even know which one of them had said it, but she could feel the heat creeping up her neck, her hands trembling as she quickly typed back a reply, “It was a mistake! I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

The messages stopped, thankfully. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Her phone buzzed again, probably someone else trying to get a rise out of her. But she ignored it. She’d have to deal with it later.

“Alright, class, time to settle down!” Mrs. Winters’ voice came through the speakers, and the room quieted. “Today, we’re doing group work. I’ll assign you to groups of three, and you’ll be working together on a project about character development. Please be respectful and make sure to collaborate well.”
Samantha nodded to herself, her thoughts briefly wandering to how long the lesson would take. She just needed to get through this without further embarrassment.

She watched as the teacher’s digital whiteboard lit up, revealing the groups. She scanned the names, her stomach sinking when she saw her group: Samantha Prewitt, Tyler West, and Olivia Carter.

Tyler West was one of those quiet guys who always sat at the back of the class. He didn’t seem like the type to engage much with anyone, except maybe his friends, which she didn’t know well. Olivia Carter, on the other hand, was the quiet, artsy type. Samantha could barely remember when she’d last spoken to her, let alone know much about her.

The names appeared on her screen as a prompt to join their virtual breakout room. Samantha clicked on it with reluctance, feeling a cold sweat breaking out on her palms as she waited for the group session to start

Samantha clicked into the breakout room, and within moments, her two group mates followed. Tyler entered first, his eyes locking onto her with an intensity that made her stomach drop. The boyish charm he usually wore was gone, replaced by something colder, more predatory. A shiver ran down her spine as she quickly looked away.

Olivia entered next, as calm and unbothered as ever. Her straight black hair framed her pale face, and she barely glanced up from her phone, lost in whatever was on the screen. Samantha couldn’t help but envy her for looking so unaffected, so composed.

Tyler’s voice broke the silence, his words carried an edge she hadn’t expected. “I take it you got my message, Sammy?”

A deep flush spread across Samantha’s face, and she felt the heat travel down her neck. Tyler’s grin widened as he noticed her reaction. Olivia, who had been silently watching, glanced up from her phone, her lips curling into a smirk. Samantha couldn’t tell exactly what they knew, but she could feel the weight of the situation hanging over her. It was clear that the message she’d received earlier was somehow tied to this moment.

As if on cue, her phone buzzed, the notification pulling her gaze down in panic. Her fingers shook as she opened the message. Her heart skipped a beat as she read the words: “Follow my directions or I’m publishing that picture in the yearbook.”

The air seemed to vibrate with tension, and Samantha's breath caught in her throat like a trapped bird. She quickly typed a response, trying to infuse her words with a calmness she didn't feel. "Okay... what is it?" Her fingers trembled over the keyboard, and she hoped her words wouldn't betray her fear.

The response came, and Samantha's heart sank. "I'm going to give you the signal, and when I do, I want you to remove some of your clothes. Nod if you agree." The words seemed to hang in the air, they taunted her, and cold dread crept up her spine.

She hesitated, her mind racing with the implications. She was already barely clothed, wearing only a thin dress and panties. The thought of removing anything else made her skin crawl. But something about the tone of the message made her feel like she had no choice. She nodded her head, the movement barely perceptible, and felt tears welling up in her eyes.