Darkness

Alex stared at the contents of the box, his breath catching in his throat. Inside lay three items, each one a glaring blow to his pride.

The first thing that caught his eye was the 2 pairs of pink plush handcuffs. They looked high-quality, almost luxurious, with tiny golden details that glinted in the light. They seemed so girly and scary for Alex

Next to them lay a pink sleep mask, with delicate lace trim around the edges and glittering stones spelling out “Princess in Training.” Just seeing it made Alex’s face grow hot.

And finally, there was a pair of pink in-ear headphones, also adorned with tiny stones that sparkled like gems. They looked expensive and had a conspicuous heart shape at the ends.

Alex shook his head in disbelief. “What’s this supposed to be now?” he wondered as he carefully took the items out of the box. The handcuffs felt velvety and soft, almost unsettlingly pleasant to the touch. He quickly set them aside and reached for the sleep mask. The fabric was just as soft, and as he looked more closely at the lettering, he felt even more humiliated.

He put the items back in the box and looked at the letter that was still lying on the chair. His heart began to beat faster as he wondered what the blackmailer was planning next.

Slowly, he unfolded the envelope and pulled out the piece of paper inside. The words on it were precise and just as degrading as the package’s contents:

“Princess, your lesson for today is about to begin. I hope you like your little present—I picked it out with special care. Your task is simple: Sit down on the chair in the living room, use the plush handcuffs and the sleep mask, as befits an obedient princess. You’ll need the headphones, too, because I’ve prepared something for you to listen to. All this will help you better understand your role. I expect a radiant smile when you’re ready. Don’t forget, I see everything. ♥”

Alex felt his stomach tighten. Once again, the blackmailer had left him ****. Taking a deep breath, he set the letter aside and looked at the items in the box. The plush handcuffs glinted faintly, the sleep mask with its delicate lace looked almost innocent, and the headphones shone at him in their glaring colors.

“What is all this?” Alex thought in despair, clenching his hands into fists. But he knew resistance was futile. Every step, every decision had already been made for him. He felt like a puppet whose strings were tightly held by the blackmailer.

Slowly, he picked up the plush handcuffs from the box, letting the cool, soft surface slide through his fingers. Then he reached for the sleep mask and the headphones. His legs felt heavy as he approached the chair in the middle of the living room.

Alex stared at the items in the box and then at the letter in his hand. His hands trembled with anger and fear, but this time he felt a small flame of resistance flaring within him. “No,” he muttered. “I’m not doing it. I won’t be humiliated any further.”

He threw the letter onto the table and turned around, determined to ignore the blackmailer’s instructions. But at that very moment, his phone buzzed again. With a heavy heart, he grabbed it and opened the new message.

“Oh, Princess, you really don’t want to obey? Then let me send you a little reminder why you have no other choice.”

Shortly after, another video followed. Alex hesitated, but part of him already knew what he was about to see. When he finally pressed “Play,” he felt nauseated. It was a montage of all the embarrassing moments the blackmailer had recorded so far: him walking around the house in lingerie, hanging the laundry outside, and even the video from his “session” with the panties. The blackmailer had edited everything perfectly and added a horribly sweet soundtrack that only intensified the humiliation.

At the end of the video, one last message appeared on the screen: “This is just the beginning. Imagine how your friends, your teachers, or your family would react. Still unsure what you should do?”

Alex swallowed hard. His knees suddenly felt weak. “He really has everything,” he thought as a paralyzing fear spread within him. Then his phone buzzed again, and a new message appeared:

“Don’t forget, Princess: You’re supposed to show off the pretty lingerie you’re wearing. So strip down before you sit. I want you to look perfect. :)”

Alex let the phone sink and took a shuddering breath. His resistance was broken. The thought that all those videos could be made public left him no other choice. “I hate this,” he whispered softly. “I hate myself.”

Shaking, he stood up, grabbed the sleep mask and the handcuffs, then slowly began to undress. His clothes fell to the floor piece by piece until he was wearing only the white and gold lingerie set that reminded him of the humiliation of the past few days.

With every breath, he felt smaller, but he knew he had to obey. Slowly, he walked over to the chair, the items in his hand, and waited for the blackmailer’s next message.

Alex slowly sank onto the chair, his heart racing as he looked at the items from the box. The pink headphones lay gleaming in his hand, and the sleep mask with its delicate lace seemed to mock him. “I have to go through with this,” he told himself, though his voice trembled even in his own mind.

First, he put on the headphones. They pressed firmly around his ears, almost uncomfortably tight, and he felt a faint vacuum seal them in place. A deep, almost calming hum began, and Alex immediately realized the noise cancellation was extremely strong. The world around him went completely silent. No humming from the fridge, no creaking of the chair—nothing. It was as though he had been pulled into an isolated bubble.

There was a slight clicking sound, and he noticed the headphones had automatically connected to his phone. “Of course,” he thought bitterly. “The blackmailer really has thought of everything.”

Next, he grabbed the sleep mask. It felt soft and slightly cool as he pulled it over his eyes. Darkness enveloped him, and although the mask was comfortable, it amplified his feeling of helplessness. He was blind and deaf to the world around him.

Then came the handcuffs. Alex carefully felt for the armrests of the chair and tried to attach the cuffs to them. The plush surface felt almost soothing, but the thought of locking himself into a situation he couldn’t easily escape made his heart pound.

When he clicked the first cuff shut, he heard a soft locking sound. His hand was now firmly attached to the chair’s arm. He hesitated at the second one, his fingers hovering over the hinge, realizing that once it snapped into place, he’d have no way to free himself.

“I can’t get out of this without help,” he thought, his throat going dry. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he sat in the darkness deepened by the sleep mask.

But before he could change his mind, he locked the second cuff. Another soft click, and Alex was trapped—tied to the chair, blind and deaf, completely at the mercy of his blackmailer.

The deep hum of the headphones suddenly gave way to a quiet melody, sweet and soothing, like a gentle lullaby. Then an artificial voice began speaking, calm and soft, but with an underlying, manipulative tone: “Well done, Princess. Now relax… and listen carefully.”

Alex sat motionless on the chair, blindfolded, deaf to the world around him, while bright girly pop songs played in his headphones. The cheerful, over-the-top tunes with lyrics about glitter, parties, and the perfect life as a “princess” felt like an absurd parody of his situation. Yet he had no way to turn them off.

The headphones clamped down tightly, letting no outside sound in. Each song seemed to draw him deeper into this **** role, like an endless loop of sickly-sweet humiliation. He felt the pulse in his hands, locked by the plush cuffs, and desperately tried to distract himself from how humiliating it all was.

But what Alex didn’t know was that he was not alone.

In the hallway, only a few steps away, a figure was moving. The steps were quiet, careful, almost creeping, like a predator circling its prey. The person—or rather, the presence—moved closer and closer to the living room until finally stopping at the door.

Alex felt nothing, heard nothing. In his isolated world, he had no idea someone was standing behind him, watching him. The songs in his headphones switched to an even more childlike tone, accompanied by squeaky voices singing about rainbows and unicorns.

The figure in the room moved slowly onward, circling the chair and stopping directly in front of Alex. A hand, clad in a long, shiny glove, rose up and hovered over his face, mere inches away. The person watched him closely, as if fascinated by his helpless state.

Alex suddenly got goose bumps along his bare skin, despite the warmth in the room. A gut feeling told him someone was looking at him. “Is someone there?” he wondered, but he couldn’t verify it. The feeling grew stronger, almost overpowering, but the songs in the headphones made it impossible to hear even the faintest sound.

The figure leaned forward, so close that Alex might have felt their warm breath on his skin—if he hadn’t been so lost in darkness and those annoyingly cheerful pop songs.

Alex suddenly felt a touch on his skin—a gentle stroke that sent icy shivers down his spine. It started at his shoulder, then slowly drifted down his arm and on to his waist. It was a careful, almost playful caress, but because of his treatment at the salon, his skin was hypersensitive, and every touch felt intense, almost overwhelming.

“What… what’s happening?” Alex thought in panic. The sleep mask robbed him of any sight, the headphones kept him from hearing anything. He was utterly exposed, not knowing who or what was touching him. His chest rose and fell faster as the touch continued along the lacy trim of the lingerie he wore.

A faint tingling spread through him, a mixture of fear, shame, and discomfort. The touch seemed curious, exploratory, yet so deliberate that it was impossible to mistake it for anything but intentional. One hand slid gently over his naked thigh, grazing the edge of the lacy panties he was wearing. The contact made him flinch, but the handcuffs prevented any real resistance.

He turned his head slightly, as if he could see through the darkness of the mask. “Who’s there?” he wanted to shout, but the words caught in his throat. The pop songs in his headphones continued relentlessly, cheerful and childish, leaving him utterly isolated in his helplessness.

A voice would almost have been comforting, but the touch spoke for itself: whoever it was, they were in control—and Alex was at their mercy.

Alex froze when he felt the next touch—not on his skin but in his hair. The fingers threading through his hair were gentle, almost playful, yet each movement made him even more tense.

Whoever it was seemed to be exploring his hair, testing it, twirling it between their fingers, as if enjoying its texture and scent. Alex felt like he was being examined, like a toy that someone was curiously inspecting. The lingering scent of the shampoo he hadn’t been able to get rid of since morning seemed to intrigue the touches even further.

“What is happening?” he thought again, heart pounding wildly in his chest. The fingers moved slowly, pulling lightly at strands, plucking here and there, as if deliberately trying to unnerve him.

The sugary fragrance, intensified by Miriam’s products, was all around him, and Alex felt the heat rise to his cheeks. The person—whoever it was—leaned in closer, so close he could sense a faint breath on his skin.

The fingers continued to slide through his hair, playfully pulling individual strands over his shoulders and down his back. Alex could neither see nor hear anything but the ceaseless girly pop music, yet he sensed every movement intensely, as though his other senses were wholly focused on the touches.

A shiver ran down his spine as the hands finally seemed to pause—though the tension remained in the air, heavy and unrelenting.

Suddenly, Alex felt movement at his waist, a slight tug that instantly made his throat tighten. The air seemed to hold still for a moment as he realized someone was carefully pulling on his panties. His muscles tensed, but the cuffs on the armrests held him tight, the mask and headphones still shutting out any external world.

A cold chill crept up his spine as he noticed the lace of the lingerie gradually sliding over his skin. The person moved gently, almost methodically, as if each movement was deliberately slowed to increase the tension. The panties were lowered inch by inch, the lace grazing his sensitive skin, which only intensified the sensation from his earlier salon treatments.

“What… what is happening to me?!” he thought, trying to keep himself from hyperventilating. Panic mixed with a strange paralysis that prevented him from resisting. The pop songs continued blaring in the headphones, absurdly cheerful and completely at odds with the situation.

When the panties were finally pulled all the way down, they bunched around his ankles. The cold air in the room made him flinch as it touched his newly exposed skin. Whoever was behind him now seemed to draw nearer—he could feel their gaze on him, weighing on him like a physical presence.

It was as if Alex’s mind shut down from fear when he felt the next touch. A hand, warm and soft, slowly ran across the little embarrassing heart Jessica had shaved into his pubic hair the day before. The touch was gentle, but it sent goose bumps racing across his whole body.

“No… please, no…” he said, yet he could do nothing. His breathing grew quicker, and he flinched as the hand paused briefly, then continued its exploration.

Suddenly, he felt something cold—ice cold, like a shock that made him jerk back instantly. The ice was held right against his crotch, and the **** chill made him cry out reflexively. “Ahh! What…?!” The scream was involuntary, and his body twisted in the cuffs, but he couldn’t break free.

The person behind him remained silent, however, slowly gliding the ice cube over his sensitive skin. The combination of the intense cold and the prior caresses was almost unbearable, and Alex felt shame, fear, and confusion swirling together inside him.

Whoever was behind him used the ice cube in a playful way under the pink heart before pulling it away. Yet the chill lingered, and Alex trembled, unable to process the situation. “What… what are they doing to me?” he thought in panic, turning his head under the sleep mask in a futile attempt to see his invisible tormentor.

Alex’s breathing was shallow, his body trembling as the unbearable cold gradually subsided. But the aftereffect of the ice remained. He felt numb around his lower abdomen, as though nothing existed there anymore—just a strange, dull tingling that worried him more and more.

“What… what are they doing to me?” he asked , his thoughts racing. His body, exhausted from everything that had happened, was still on high alert. Every tiny hint of touch felt magnified, and the panic rising within him nearly made him lose control.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally sensed the panties being pulled back up. The lace brushed lightly across his skin, and Alex bit his lower lip to keep from letting out another moan. The tight lace once again hugged him as though nothing had happened, but the memory of what had just taken place made him tremble with shame.

The hands that had been roaming his body retreated, and Alex felt the presence behind him vanish. For a moment, there was silence—aside from the incessant girly pop music in his headphones. But that silence carried a sense of foreboding, something that told him it wasn’t over yet.

He didn’t move, didn’t dare resist, fearing any reaction might only trigger further humiliation. “What is happening here? Who is this? Why…?” His thoughts spun, but no answers came.