Gaming

Alex stumbled along the street, his head spinning with shame and confusion. Every step felt heavy, as though the events at the salon weighed on him physically. The sweet scent of lotions still clung to him, and with every movement, he felt the smooth, strangely foreign surface of his skin. But the worst of it was the grotesque heart in his step, burning in his mind like an indelible mark of his humiliation.

"How did it come to this?" he asked himself despairingly. His thoughts raced, and he couldn't think straight. All he wanted was to get home, to crawl into a hole and pretend, just for a moment, that none of this had ever happened.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket, a soft tone signaling a new message. Alex flinched, his heart skipping a beat. "No… not again." Reluctantly, he pulled out the phone, his fingers trembling as he unlocked the screen. The message was, as expected, from the blackmailer. His stomach churned as he read:

"Good sissy, You did really well. I'm impressed—and so was Jessica. But the fun isn't over yet. I hope you're enjoying your new look, because it'll be needed again soon. Go home, relax, and wait for further instructions. Remember: I'm watching everything. :)"

Alex's hands shook so badly he could barely hold the phone. His thoughts flooded with a mix of anger, fear, and deep humiliation. "Needed again?" he wondered. "What does he want from me next?"

He felt tears welling up in his eyes but blinked them away. "I have to stay strong," he told himself, though his inner voice didn't sound very convincing. With each step, the realization grew clearer—this nightmare was far from over, and he had no idea how he would ever escape it.

When Alex finally got home, he felt like a shadow of himself. He shut the door behind him and leaned heavily against it, taking deep breaths. The familiar scent of his home should have been comforting, but all he felt was a suffocating shame that almost overwhelmed him.

He shuffled into the kitchen, his legs feeling like lead. On the kitchen table lay a note that immediately caught his attention. It was in his father’s handwriting, clear and succinct as always:

"Alex,Miriam and I will be away for the weekend. We won't be back until Monday evening. Please be responsible and keep the house in order. We trust you.

Dad"

Alex stared at the note, unable to fully process the words. "They're gone?" he thought, a small spark of hope flickering within him. "Maybe I can use this time to..."

His phone vibrated again, pulling him out of his thoughts. He hesitated, wanting to ignore the screen, but he knew it would be pointless. With trembling hands, he pulled out the phone and opened the blackmailer's message.

"Good Princess, You're getting better at following orders. But now it's time for you to dress up a little—or rather, to put on something more appropriate. Go to your mommy's bedroom, open her wardrobe, and pick out a lingerie set. Then put it on and spend the rest of the day in it. No excuses. No distractions. I'm watching. :)"

Alex stared at the screen, his heart pounding in his chest. His breathing quickened, and his entire body trembled with tension. "No… he can't be serious," he thought. But deep down, he knew this was no joke. The blackmailer meant every word.

His gaze shifted to the note on the table. "Dad and Miriam aren’t here," he thought, and while part of him felt relieved, it only reinforced the reality of his situation. There was no one to save him. No one to intervene.

Alex sank heavily into a kitchen chair, the phone in one hand and the note in the other. His mind raced, desperately trying to find a way out of this nightmare. But every idea was crushed by the fact that the blackmailer had access to everything—his phone, his computer, his life.

Finally, he stood up slowly, like a puppet with no control over its strings. "I have ****," he murmured quietly to himself as he moved toward his stepmother's bedroom. Every step felt like he was being dragged deeper into an abyss from which there was no escape.

Alex entered his parents' bedroom hesitantly, his heart hammering in his chest. The familiar scent of Miriam's perfume lingered in the air, and the room was so impeccably tidy it felt almost sterile. He paused for a moment, looking around, his eyes searching for the wardrobe. "Maybe I can find something harmless," he thought hopefully, though he knew that hope was a luxury he couldn't afford.

With trembling hands, he opened the wardrobe doors. To his dismay, Miriam’s wardrobe was nearly empty. Most of her clothes seemed to have been taken, leaving only a few items neatly hung on hangers. For a moment, Alex felt a wave of relief, thinking this task might be impossible to complete.

But then his eyes fell on a box on the top shelf. It was black, with shiny gold lettering bearing the name of an exclusive lingerie brand. "Oh no," Alex thought as he realized he couldn’t ignore it. His hands shook as he reached up to take the box down and cautiously opened the lid.

What he saw made him freeze. Inside lay a lingerie set that made him more than uncomfortable. It was a floor-length pink nightgown made of sheer fabric, trimmed with lace at the edges and adorned with a bow in the middle. It looked not only extremely feminine—it was almost caricature-like, as though designed for someone with an exaggerated idea of femininity. "This... this can't be real," Alex murmured, a cold shiver running down his spine.

He wanted to slam the box shut and put it back on the shelf, but the buzzing of his phone in his pocket pulled him back to reality. "He's watching me," Alex thought, his stomach twisting into knots. Reluctantly, he reached for the set and held it in front of him, as though trying to comprehend what was being demanded of him.

"Why is he doing this?" Alex whispered to himself. The thought of spending the rest of the day in that thing nearly sent him into a panic. But the blackmailer's threat and the memory of the doctored videos kept him from resisting. "I have ****," he repeated to himself, though the words felt like a weight on his soul.

Slowly, with trembling hands, Alex pulled the garments from the box. The fabric felt soft, almost uncomfortably smooth. His breathing quickened, and his fingers shook as he prepared to put the set on. "A nightmare," he thought. "An absolute nightmare."

Alex held the lingerie set in his hands, the soft, almost slippery material seemed to literally nestle against his fingers. His heart was pounding so loudly that he felt as if it was echoing through the whole room. He stared at the garment, unable to believe that he had actually come this far. “This can't be my life,” he thought desperately.

Just as he was about to take heart, his cell phone vibrated again in his pocket. The sound made him flinch and for a moment he wanted to ignore it. But he knew that wasn't an option. Reluctantly, he pulled out the phone and unlocked the screen. As expected, it was a message from the blackmailer.

Well, Alex? Did you find something? I hope it's something nice. But don't wear it there. I want to see you put it on in your room - in front of your computer, with a smile. And don't forget to turn it on. :)”

Alex stared at the message, his heart skipping a beat. The blackmailer knew exactly what he was doing. He wasn't giving Alex a chance to do anything in peace or with any semblance of dignity. Everything had to be done under his control, every move, every decision.

Alex gritted his teeth and went back to staring at the lingerie set in his hands. The thought of putting it on in his room, under the watchful eye of the blackmailer, made him tremble. But what could he do? He had ****. He couldn't afford any more resistance.

With heavy steps and the box under his arm, he left his parents' bedroom and walked down the corridor to his own room. Every step felt like another blow to his dignity. As he closed the door behind him, he felt the air in his small, familiar room suddenly become stuffy and oppressive.

Alex placed the box on his desk and switched on his computer. The screen flickered on and the familiar hum of the fan filled the room. He sat on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. “I have to get through this,” he kept telling himself, although he wasn't sure how much longer he could endure this agony.

Alex sat on the edge of the bed, the lingerie set lying before him like an inescapable challenge. The screen of his computer glowed in the room, a silent witness to what was about to happen. The blackmailer's message echoed in his head, and although he refused to look in the mirror, he knew his face couldn't hide the panic.

A smile,' he thought as he breathed in and out deeply. “He wants me to smile.” He tried to pull the corners of his mouth upwards, but the result was a pained expression that could hardly be called a genuine smile.

With trembling hands, he reached for the first piece of the set: a soft, almost see-through lace top decorated with pink bows. The texture of the fabric was so fine that it felt as if it would tear at the slightest touch. He slowly pulled it over his head, the fabric scratching his skin and leaving goose bumps. The straps cut slightly into his shoulders, and the bottom edge settled just below his chest.

“Smile,” Alex muttered to himself, trying again to **** his lips into an expression that would meet the blackmailer's demands. His face felt like a mask, stiff and unnatural.

Then he reached for the underwear that was waiting for him in the box. It was a tight pair of panties, also transparent, with a small pink heart sewn right in the middle. His hands trembled even more as he carefully pulled the garment apart and pulled it over his feet. The fabric clung tightly to his skin and the feeling was more than just uncomfortable. It was alien, a constant reminder of how deep he had sunk into this nightmare.

Alex stood up briefly to adjust the set, feeling the fabric rub against his skin with every movement. He was suddenly very aware of the slight chill in the room, but it was the heat of his shame that turned his whole body red.

Next, he took the hold-up stockings out of the box. They were wafer-thin and decorated with little lace ribbons at the top. He sat back down on the edge of the bed, slipped one foot in at a time and slowly pulled the stockings up until they sat on his thighs. The band cut into his skin slightly and he had to adjust them several times to stop them slipping.

He stood up and walked unsteadily in front of the computer, the screen roughly reflecting his image. With one last deep breath, he put on the required smile - ****, pained and empty.

“This is what he wants,” Alex thought as he stared at the screen and saw his own distorted reflection.

Alex stood there, his heart pounding so loudly he thought it would echo through the room. The lace of the lingerie scratched lightly against his skin and the stockings cut into his thighs. The **** smile on his face felt so false that he thought it must hurt him physically.

He smoothed his top with trembling hands, trying to move the bows into place, even though he knew it made no difference. Every breath felt like he was inhaling shards, but the blackmailer's demand hung around his neck like an invisible chain.

He slowly sat down in front of the computer, his movements stiff and awkward, like those of a puppet whose strings had been pulled too tight. He felt naked, even though he was wearing these grotesque clothes that only made things worse.

His eyes fell on the webcam at the top of the monitor. He knew that the blackmailer could see him now, that his every move was being watched. “Smile,” he thought again, forcing the corners of his mouth upwards. The expression was stiff and unnatural, but it was the best he could manage at that moment.

The cell phone near him vibrated. Alex flinched and automatically reached for it. The message he opened made him shudder:

"Good boy, Alex. You look perfect. Just as I imagined. Now stay there and slowly turn around. I want to admire your entire outfit."

Alex’s throat tightened. His grip on the phone grew firmer, and for a moment, he considered throwing it away, ignoring everything, and running. But where would he go? The blackmailer had everything—his videos, access to his devices, control over every aspect of his life.

Slowly, he stood up again, positioned himself in front of the monitor, and turned awkwardly in place. He felt horribly exposed, as if every piece of his dignity was being torn apart. The fabric of the lingerie moved slightly with him, the ribbons bouncing with each motion, and the stockings stretched with every step.

The phone vibrated again, and Alex reached for it, his fingers trembling so much he nearly dropped it.

"Wonderful, Alex. You really are a model example. But don't forget: Always smile. A good girl never looks sad. :)"

The message made him feel like collapsing, but he somehow remained upright. His **** smile stayed on his face, even as he screamed inside.

Alex felt like an empty shell, a shadow of himself. The **** smile hurt almost as much as the shame eating him from within. The blackmailer had complete control over him, and every message pulled Alex deeper into this nightmare.

Slowly, he sank back into the chair in front of the computer, his hands trembling and his heart racing. The sickly sweet smell of lotions lingered heavily in the air, reminding him just how ridiculous he looked—trapped in a lingerie set that made him appear like a caricature of himself.

The phone vibrated again. Alex didn’t want to read it, wanted to ignore it, but he knew that wasn’t an option. Breathing heavily, he unlocked the screen and opened the message:

"Now relax, Alex. Sit back comfortably and take a moment to enjoy your new self. Maybe a selfie for yourself, to see how good you look? And don't worry, I'm sure you'll come to enjoy it even more soon. :)"

Alex’s stomach turned. A selfie? The thought of having to see himself in this state almost made him retch. He bit his lip to suppress a panicked sound and stared at the phone in his hand.

"I can't do this," he thought desperately. But he knew he had ****. The blackmailer was watching him, and any hesitation could have consequences. He had to obey.

With trembling fingers, he opened the camera app on his phone. The screen showed his distorted face, the **** smile, and the glittering straps of the lingerie. He could barely look, wanting to turn his gaze away from himself, but he **** himself to lift the phone.

He held it at a distance, trying to capture as little of himself as possible, but the blackmailer wouldn’t accept anything half-hearted. "All or nothing," Alex thought, tilting the phone slightly until the entire outfit was visible.

A quick tap, a bright flash, and the selfie was taken.

He stared at it, unable to believe what he was seeing: a boy who looked like he had launched himself into hell. The **** smile, the pink lingerie, the smooth stockings—it was a grotesque image, a living nightmare.

The phone vibrated again, and the next message appeared:

"Perfect, Alex. Send me the photo. Now. :)"

His grip on the phone tightened so much that his knuckles turned white. He wanted to scream, to smash it, but his hands moved as if on their own. Shaking, he opened the blackmailer’s chat, found the photo in the gallery, and hit "Send."

A soft "swoosh" indicated the message had been sent. Alex slumped as though the sound had drained all the energy from him. His phone vibrated almost immediately with another message:

"You’ve got a real talent, Alex. I knew you were a natural. Now relax—but stay in your outfit. We’ll have more fun later. :)"

Alex slowly placed the phone on the table. His gaze was empty, his body heavy, his thoughts spinning chaotically. "This isn’t over," he thought. "It will never be over."

Alex sat motionless in front of his computer, the screen glowing silently in the dim room. His head felt heavy, his thoughts a wild whirlwind of shame, fear, and helplessness. But amidst the chaos, he suddenly remembered that he still needed to add Tessa—their in-game name was still on the little slip of paper in his pocket from that morning.

Slowly and mechanically, he reached for his jeans draped over the chair and pulled out the paper. Seeing her casual, slightly messy handwriting brought a faint touch of normalcy to his otherwise completely upended day. "At least Tessa…" he thought, feeling a spark of hope that a brief conversation with her might momentarily pull him out of this situation.

He opened the gaming platform, entered her name into the friend list, and sent the request. While he waited, he saw his reflection in the darkened monitor screen beside him. The lingerie shimmered in the computer light, and the sweet scent of lotions still hung in the air. He pressed his lips together and tried to focus on something else.

The message "Request sent" appeared, but Tessa wasn’t online yet. Alex leaned back and stared at the screen. "Of course, she’s not here yet," he thought. "Why would she be? It’s not like I can just talk to someone normally."

The thought of Tessa brought mixed emotions. On one hand, he felt terrible for continuing to lie to her and hide what was happening to him. On the other hand, she was the only person at school who had made him feel not completely alone. "I can’t tell her about this," he told himself. "She’d think I’m crazy… or worse."

To distract himself, Alex opened the game she had suggested that morning and started downloading it. The progress bar moved painfully slowly, and every passing second made the silence in the room feel louder. He glanced at his phone, hoping to see a message from Tessa, but it remained silent.

He sighed and leaned back in the chair. "Maybe she’ll come online later," he thought, trying to ignore the crushing weight inside him. But the presence of the lingerie on his skin and the knowledge that the blackmailer was still watching made it impossible to truly relax.

After some time, the small green indicator next to Tessa's name appeared: Online. Alex felt a sudden wave of relief as a message from her popped up.

Tessa: "Hey! There you are! :) Let’s game! I’m so hyped for today."

Before Alex could answer, the call started. A soft ringing filled the air, and with trembling fingers, he clicked "Accept." A moment later, he heard Tessa's familiar voice, cheerful and full of energy.

"Alex! Finally. I thought you might have changed your mind," she said with a laugh. "Ready to lose today?"

Alex swallowed and **** a smile into his voice. "Of course. I mean, I'll give it my best shot. Let's see if you're really as good as you claim to be."

"Oh, trust me, I'm better than you think," she replied playfully. He could almost picture her sitting in front of her screen with a mischievous grin. "So, what are we playing? I've got a few suggestions."

"Uh… whatever you want," Alex replied. His voice sounded calm, but inside, he was a bundle of nerves. The lingerie he wore dug slightly into his skin, and the tight fabric made him constantly uncomfortable. Worse was the fact that he could feel his body reacting to the absurd situation. He was deeply ashamed, but there was nothing he could do about it.

"Okay, how about that new co-op survival game? We can build, fight, and troll people together. Perfect for us," Tessa suggested.

"Sure, sounds good," Alex said, hoping she wouldn't notice his unease.

"Great! I'll invite you to my lobby. Hang on, I'll send you the code."

As Tessa spoke, Alex **** himself to focus on the screen and not the scratchy sensation of lace or the cloying warmth enveloping him. His breath quickened as he accepted the invitation and joined the game. But despite the distraction of the colorful game world and Tessa's lively commentary, he couldn't shake the tension.

"Hey, are you okay?" Tessa asked suddenly. "You sound… distracted."

Alex flinched and tried to keep his voice casual. "Yeah, yeah! I'm just a bit tired, I think. But I'm here."

"Tired? Already? Come on, we just started!" Tessa laughed. "Alright, let's do something simple then. We'll gather some resources and build a fortress. Sound good?"

"Yeah, sounds great," Alex replied, hoping the focus on the game would distract him from his embarrassing reality. "I have to pull myself together," he thought. "It's the only way I’ll get through this."

Tessa started explaining the basics of the game, and her relaxed, cheeky manner helped Alex loosen up a little. But the lingerie, constantly rubbing against his skin, and the unshakable memory that the blackmailer could see everything hung over him like a dark cloud.

Time passed, and Alex actually began to relax a little. The game demanded his attention, and Tessa’s easygoing, funny demeanor helped him forget some of the tension in his body. Their shared in-game activities—gathering resources, fending off enemies, building an improvised fortress—pulled him into the virtual world, and for a moment, reality and its burdens seemed far away.

Then, suddenly and without warning, his screen flashed. A bright pink popup appeared, and Alex’s heart stopped as he realized what he was seeing: pictures of penises, an entire flood of them, dancing across his screen like some grotesque advertisement. "What the…?" he thought in panic as he tried to stay calm.

"Hey, are you okay? You stopped moving," Tessa asked over the call, her voice puzzled.

Alex swallowed hard and **** himself to sound steady. "Uh… yeah, I’m fine! My game just lagged for a second. I think my internet's acting up."

"Really? Ugh, that’s annoying," Tessa replied. "Maybe you need to kick your router. But hurry up, I need backup here—we’re about to be overrun!"

"On my way!" Alex said quickly, his voice a little too high-pitched as he tried to ignore the popups. He frantically closed the windows, but new ones kept appearing, each with even more explicit images. "Oh God, he's doing this on purpose," Alex thought, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. The blackmailer had planned this—a deliberate attack on his dignity.

He moved his character in the game, trying to focus on the situation, but the constant popups distracted him. "Damn it," he muttered as he stumbled into a virtual trap and his character took damage.

"What are you doing back there? Daydreaming or what?" Tessa teased, laughing. "Come on, focus! I thought you didn’t want to lose."

"Sorry, sorry!" Alex laughed nervously, but his fingers trembled on the keyboard. The relentless popups made it impossible to concentrate, and he felt the tension in his body rising. But he couldn’t let anything show—not in front of Tessa. She couldn’t know about this nightmare.

Hours passed as Alex kept trying to keep up appearances. New popups kept flashing, almost driving him to the edge, but he swallowed his shame and **** himself to keep playing. Tessa’s voice was his only lifeline, a fragile thread keeping him from completely breaking down.

When she finally suggested a break, Alex felt both relief and dread. He had made it through the time with her, but he knew the blackmailer wouldn’t stop. "How much longer can I endure this?" he wondered as he saved the game, barely registering Tessa’s cheerful goodbye.