Morning tasks

It didn’t take long before Alex’s phone vibrated. He hesitated, but he knew he had no other choice. When he opened the message, his stomach felt like it was twisting into knots.

“Princess, I’m thrilled with your photo. You look absolutely stunning! But the work’s not over yet. Yesterday’s old lingerie needs a thorough hand-wash. I want you to put some effort into it. Here’s a little tutorial so you do it right.”

Below it was a video.

“Oh, and before you start, grab the panties and take a few deep inhales while happily looking into the camera. I’m sure they still smell like last night’s fun, right? When you’re done, hang everything outside—but of course, only wearing your new set. Can’t wait to see the photos! :)”

Alex stared at the screen, his heart pounding. The thought of handling last night’s panties again, let alone smelling them, made him inwardly recoil. But the threat hanging over him like the Sword of Damocles kept him from resisting. “I can’t risk him releasing the videos,” he thought in despair.

Slowly, he got up and walked to the bed, where yesterday’s lingerie set still lay. The panties were slightly crumpled, and Alex could already sense the sweetish scent before even picking them up. Hesitantly, he lifted them, his face contorting with disgust.

He placed his phone on a small stand and started the camera. With trembling hands, he raised the panties to his face, his eyes flickering with shame. He **** himself to look at the camera, putting on that same **** smile the blackmailer demanded. Then he took a deep breath through the lacy fabric. The smell was overwhelming—a mixture of the sweet lotion fragrance and something more intimate that reminded him of the previous evening’s events.

He felt his knees go weak, but he **** himself to stay strong. One more inhale, one more smile. “Just this, and it’s over,” he told himself as he watched his own image in the camera.

After recording and sending the video, he began watching the tutorial. It was a simple set of instructions on how to hand-wash lingerie gently, with special attention to delicate lace and embroidery. Yet the way the blackmailer had staged it only made Alex more nervous. It felt like a grotesque parody, and still, Alex got to work.

He filled the sink with warm water, added some of Miriam’s fragrant detergent, and started carefully cleaning the lingerie. He left the panties for last, but finally, he reached for them, his hands shaking as he dipped them into the water, rubbing gently as shown in the video.

When he was finished, he grabbed the set and cautiously opened the terrace door. The cool morning air hit him, but the feeling of being outside in public made him shiver. Dressed only in his new lingerie set, he stepped out.

He hung the pieces one by one on the clothesline, his heart racing at every sound coming from the darkness. Alex was convinced that at any second, someone might look over the fence or walk by. Still, he managed to finish the task without being seen.

Back in his room, his phone vibrated again. The blackmailer had sent him a new message. Alex’s stomach tightened as he stared at the screen. “What now?” he wondered, his body trembling with fear and exhaustion.

His phone vibrated once more. His heart skipped a beat before he reluctantly looked at the display. Another new message from the blackmailer. With a heavy sigh, he opened it and felt the blood drain from his face.

The photo showed him—standing outside in the white and gold lingerie set, hanging the freshly washed laundry. The angle was perfectly chosen so that his outfit and the humiliating scene were clearly visible. The blackmailer had been watching him, maybe even secretly photographing him.

“Princess, you’re truly a dream to behold! Look how diligent you are. Such a beautiful picture of you—so natural and obedient. I’m very proud of you! ♥”

Alex felt his stomach churn. “How did he do that?” he thought in panic. Was the blackmailer nearby? Had he been standing somewhere in the darkness while Alex was outside? Or had he installed a camera watching him?

His hands trembled as he scrolled further down to find a second message:

“Don’t worry, Princess. No one but me will see this photo… as long as you keep being a good girl. But remember: I see everything. There’s nowhere you can hide. Good morning, sweet sissy.”

Alex stared at the screen, his heart racing. The thought that the blackmailer had such a close eye on him was driving him insane. His mind raced with questions. Had he put a camera in the house? Was he somewhere nearby when Alex was outside? And what did this underlying threat mean for the tasks to come?

With sweaty palms, Alex lowered his phone and tried to pull himself together. But the words “I see everything” burned themselves into his memory.

Alex’s stomach growled loudly, a painful reminder that he’d barely eaten since yesterday. Reluctantly, he got up from the bed, still wearing the white and gold lingerie set he’d had to put on for the blackmailer. Though he refused to admit it, his body was starting to get used to the unfamiliar clothes—the scratch of the lace, the tightness of the corset, the weight of the stockings. It still felt strange and uncomfortable, but it didn’t bother him quite as much as before.

He opened his bedroom door and headed for the kitchen. The house was silent, like an abandoned place, and the absence of Miriam’s clicking heels or his father’s voice made him uneasy. “At least I have the house to myself,” he thought as he entered the kitchen.

Alex opened the refrigerator door, looking for something to eat. But the shelves were shockingly empty—a few bottles of water, an expired jar of jam, and a half-used pack of butter, that was it. Frustrated, he checked the cupboards, but there was hardly anything there, either. It seemed like his parents had completely forgotten to buy groceries before they left.

“Great,” Alex muttered, staring at the nearly empty kitchen table. But then his gaze landed on a small stack of shiny cans lined up neatly in the corner. Each can had a fancy, elegant label featuring Miriam’s name and a gold-colored logo: “Miriam’s Special Breakfast—For the Demanding Woman of Today.”

Alex hesitated. “This is probably not meant for me,” he thought, but hunger left him ****. Apparently, his parents hadn’t thought to leave anything for him, and he didn’t want to spend the whole morning with a growling stomach.

He took one of the cans, opened it carefully, and found a creamy, pastel-colored mixture that smelled sweet. It vaguely reminded him of the yogurt or smoothie bowls Miriam often ate whenever she claimed she “wanted something light.” “How bad could it be?” he mumbled, grabbed a spoon, and started eating.

The taste surprised him. It was sweet, almost sugary, with a hint of vanilla and something he couldn’t quite place. It was definitely unlike anything he’d ever eaten, but his growling stomach made him keep going.

What Alex didn’t know was that these “Special Breakfast” cans not only suited Miriam’s personal taste. They also contained a special blend of hormones and supplements she took daily to promote her own idea of beauty and femininity.

After a few spoonfuls, Alex felt slightly dizzy, but he assumed it was just his hunger subsiding. Once he finished the can, he tossed it in the trash and leaned against the kitchen counter. A strange feeling spread through him, a mixture of satisfaction and… a mild tingling he couldn’t quite identify.

He shook his head, trying to ignore his discomfort, and went back to his room, preparing himself for the next message from the blackmailer. “Whatever comes next,” he thought wearily, “I just hope I can get through it.”

Alex entered his room, still feeling a bit lightheaded from breakfast. His body felt different somehow, as though filled with a foreign, sweet buzz. The worries that usually weighed on him suddenly seemed less oppressive. “Maybe it’s not so bad,” a bizarre thought flashed through his mind, before he **** it aside. “What the hell am I thinking?”

Before he could dwell on it any longer, his phone vibrated several times in a row. Three new messages. Alex felt his stomach tighten as he unlocked the screen and opened the first message.

Message from the Blackmailer: “Good morning, Princess! I hope you’re feeling fresh and motivated after breakfast. You have a new task: Go to the nearest parcel station and pick up a package. You’ll find the details in the attachment. But remember: when you leave the house, leave the key in the open mailbox. No excuses. And of course, I want a beaming photo of you once you’ve got the package. Have fun! :)”

Alex’s hands trembled. “Leave the key in the mailbox? What is he planning now?” he wondered, but the pressure of the threats gave him no time to think it through. He opened the attached details and saw the parcel station address and pickup code.

With a sigh, he put down his phone just as the next message arrived. This time it was from Tessa.

Message from Tessa: “Hey, Alex! I’m on the bus to school right now. Are you okay? Why aren’t you here today? It’s only your first week!”

Alex stared at the message and felt a painful tug in his chest. Tessa sounded genuinely worried, and he hated himself for not being able to tell her the truth. “What should I say?” he wondered, starting to type a reply.

“Hey, Tessa. I’m fine, just feeling a bit sick. Hope I can come back on Monday. Have fun today!”

He hesitated before hitting “send.” The lie felt wrong, but he couldn’t possibly tell her the truth. Not now, not like this.

Then the third message arrived. When he opened it, he nearly stopped breathing.

Invoice for 3,000 Dollars: The notification was an official invoice from his bank account—3,000 dollars, withdrawn by an account he didn’t recognize. Alex quickly scrolled through the details and saw that the payment went to a boutique called “LaraLynn’s Beauty Dream,” the store Jessica had worked at yesterday.

“This can’t be happening!” he thought in horror. “He used my money!”

He felt anger well up inside him, but also the icy grip of fear. The blackmailer had already shown he had access to everything. His bank account was just another tool in this twisted game.

Alex set his phone down on his desk, his hands shaking, and buried his face in his hands. “What am I going to do? How do I get out of this nightmare?”

Alex stood in front of the mirror, scrutinizing himself. Despite the surreal events of the past few days, he looked… normal. At least on the surface. The delicate lace of the white lingerie set was completely hidden beneath the loose clothes he’d quickly thrown on. But Alex couldn’t ignore the feel of the shimmering fabric on his skin—a constant whisper reminding him of what was underneath.

“I look like I always do,” he said quietly to himself, as though trying to convince himself that nothing was amiss. But inside, he felt like a stranger in his own body. The sweet lotion scent he carried with him unintentionally only heightened that sense of alienation.

He glanced at the door and took a deep breath. “I can’t put this off forever,” he thought. With hesitant steps, he walked over to his desk, where his school backpack lay. It was the largest one he owned, and he was sure he could use it to carry whatever was in the parcel from the station—no matter what it was.

He picked up the backpack and double-checked it was empty, then zipped it closed and slung it over one shoulder. “Okay, Alex. This is just a short trip. Pick up the package, take the photo, then get back home.”

But deep inside, he knew it wouldn’t be that simple. Nothing about this game ever was.

With the backpack over his shoulder and a deep breath, Alex left his room. He felt the cool morning air flow through the house as he opened the front door. A quick glance over his shoulder reminded him of the blackmailer’s demand: “Leave the key in the open mailbox.”

Reluctantly, Alex pulled the key ring from his pocket and placed it in the empty, slightly wobbly mailbox. The symbolism was not lost on him. Once again, the blackmailer had asserted his control—leaving the house without a key was another way to solidify his power.

“I’ll be right back,” he mumbled to himself, shutting the door behind him. For a moment, the crisp morning air felt liberating, but then the unease returned. With every step toward the parcel station, his heart pounded harder.

The streets were still quiet, only a few pedestrians and the occasional car passing by. Alex tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible, but his head was filled with thoughts of what awaited him at the parcel station. “What has he set up this time?” he wondered, nervously adjusting the strap of his backpack.

Finally, he spotted the row of yellow lockers at a small parking lot corner. Alex pulled out his phone and reopened the blackmailer’s message. The pickup code blinked on the screen. With trembling fingers, he typed it into the machine’s display. A faint beep and the click of a lock told him one of the compartments had opened.

Slowly, Alex opened the compartment door. Inside lay a medium-sized package wrapped with a conspicuous pink ribbon that looked absurdly decorative. The wrapping was glossy, and tied to the ribbon was a small tag reading, “For my sweet princess ♥.”

Alex’s face burned with shame. He hastily shoved the package into his backpack, glanced around nervously to see if anyone was nearby, and closed the compartment door. He felt beads of sweat gathering on his forehead.

“Okay, now just the photo,” he thought, pulling out his phone. With shaking hands, he snapped a picture of himself holding the package in his backpack, wearing—like always—that **** smile the blackmailer demanded. As soon as the photo was taken, he sent it off.

Barely ten seconds later, his phone vibrated again. A message from the blackmailer:

“Excellent, Princess! You make me so proud. Now hurry home, because the game continues—and I promise you, the fun is only just beginning. ♥”

Alex read the message, his hands trembling with anger and fear. “Fun?” he thought desperately. Whatever was in this package, it was bound to be anything but good. He zipped up his backpack, squared his shoulders, and walked quickly back home.

Alex rushed home, the package in his backpack feeling heavier with every step. “What did he put in there?” he asked himself over and over. It wasn’t huge, but definitely not light. The thought that it might be something as degrading as before made him swallow hard.

When he finally reached his house, he abruptly stopped. The front door was slightly ajar. A cold shiver ran down his spine. “Did I leave the door open?” he wondered, but he knew he’d left the key in the mailbox as the blackmailer had demanded. “That can’t be right…”

He stepped in slowly; the air in the house was still, yet felt different—foreign. His eyes scanned the hallway, then the living room. That’s where he froze. A single chair stood in the middle of the room, as though placed there on purpose so it would immediately catch his eye. On the seat lay a letter, neatly folded. Alex felt his stomach tighten.

He shut the door behind him and took a cautious step forward. Everything around him felt eerily quiet, as if the house were waiting for something. The chair and the letter seemed to radiate a menacing presence that made it hard for him to breathe.

“What now?” he thought nervously, putting his backpack on the floor. His hands trembled as he picked up the letter. For a moment, he just stared at the paper before taking a deep breath. But instead of opening it right away, he sat down on the couch and placed the envelope next to him, hands shaking.

He wanted to know what was in the package before he read the letter. “One thing at a time,” he whispered, opening his backpack. The pink wrapping sparkled at him, the ribbon perfectly tied.

He hesitated before undoing the bow and ripping off the glossy paper. Inside was a plain cardboard box with no markings. Carefully, Alex removed the lid and held his breath.

His face twisted in shame and horror when he saw what lay inside.