.
She reluctantly complied, but quickly raised her arms again to cover herself.
Arms by your side
.
Shame washed over her. Lindsey could feel the blush burning down her face as she averted her eyes. She slowly lowered her arm, exposing her simple white bra to her webcam, her fists clenched helplessly by her side in anger and embarrassment.
"Are you happy now?" she tried to demand, but even she could hear how pathetic she sounded.
Very nice
.
She sat quietly for a few moments, head down, waiting, wondering if she would have to remove her bra also. Was the grade worth it? Why was her computer doing this to her?
Since you obeyed, you get rewarded
.
Lindsey flinched a small smile and risked a glance at the webcam. She watched as the cursor hit
Cancel,
pulled her file out of the recycle bin, and put in back in place on her desktop.
What do you say, Lindsey
?
"Thank you," she whispered.
You may now submit your paper
.
It took a moment for the words to register, but she sprang into action, quickly bringing up the submission page and uploading her paper before her tormentor changed his mind. With a sigh of relief, she completed the upload. She looked up to see the green webcam light was still on and grabbed her shirt, twisted from her seat and moved out of view. When she glanced back, the light was off.
She sat back down and began timidly poking around, hoping to find a clue as to what was wrong with her computer. She was way out of her element and gave up almost immediately. She considered asking for help, but the only people she knew who were good with computers were boys and she didn't want to tell any of them what had happened. And anyway, as far as she could tell, her computer was behaving itself once again. She carefully closed the lid and backed away, half afraid that it would start beeping again. When it remained silent, she sighed with relief and fled her room.
Lindsey kept replaying the events of the morning over and over in her head and couldn't make any sense of it. Whom had she been was she chatting with on her computer? What if they had demanded that she take her bra off? She tried to come up with a way to tell someone, but what would she say? That someone made her display herself in her bra?
By the afternoon she had almost rationalized it into acceptance. After all, her bra covered about as much as a bikini top. It wasn't like she had a huge chest, she was actually kind of small in that department. Anyway, she hadn't removed her bra, so it wasn't that bad. She started to wonder who was on the other end of the chat box. Was it someone she knew? Maybe some nerdy guy in one of her classes stalking her. Well, if so then she hoped he had gotten his thrill and would leave her alone now.
Lindsey finally returned to her room that evening. Summoning her courage, she carefully opened her laptop. The webcam light remained off. She checked into Facebook and updated her status. She read her mail and listened to some music. Everything seemed normal.
Next she tried a few Google searches for anything about on laptops acting strangely, but only ended up with the suggestion to update her virus protection, something that she thought computers did automatically. She called it a night, stood up from her chair and stretched, and then started getting ready for bed. Just as she reached back to unhook her bra, she froze. She was standing directly in front of the laptop. There it was, sitting quietly, but she moved out of its vision to the side before taking off her bra. Rather than risk passing in front of her computer topless, she pulled a new sleep shirt out of the dresser drawer. Laying in the dark, she kept glancing over to her laptop, wondering if it was watching her.
Lindsey's alarm woke her the next morning. She stretched, thinking about getting up and working out.
Or, on second thought...
she always felt so horny in the mornings, when the weight of the day's tasks hadn't filled her mind enough to block out her young body's hormonal urges. She lazily slipped a hand under her tee and cupped her breasts, stroking and dreamily touching her nipples as her body came awake. Her other hand drifted down to her panties, pulling the elastic down below her hips, sliding her fingers along her folds to give a nice few strokes. She imagined some nameless male model, his hands on her as she kissed him. Male model...cameras...Lindsey's eyes snapped open and her head turned toward her computer. The green webcam light was on.
Instantly awake, she ripped her hands away from her body and jumped out of bed, running out of its sight to hide, quivering, by the doorway. Steeling herself, she lunged forward and slammed the lid shut, shaking in anger. How long had the camera been watching her? She always left it open on the desk across from her bed. Memories surfaced of her humping her pillows, of dancing naked in her room. What had the computer seen? She masturbated almost every morning! Lindsey covered her mouth in horror as she remembered other, more sordid things: giving a blowjob to that boy, Dan; the self-inflicted spanking with a ruler while bent over reading 50 Shades.
In desperation, she decided to throw the laptop away. Pulling on her sweats, she took it down to the dumpster. As she walked, she thought about what she was doing. She couldn't throw her computer out: her whole life was on it. Facebook, music, pictures, homework, everything. She would clearly need a new computer, but didn't have the time or the money to go buy one. She stood in front of the dumpster for long, indecisive minutes before finally accepting that she couldn't throw it away.
Lindsey returned to her room and plugged the laptop back in. She took a deep breath and carefully opened the lid. The webcam light was off. She started to once again attempt to figure out what was going on. She knew virtually nothing about computers other than how to use the applications she used. She knew that the computer had come with lots of programs she never opened. A futile half-hour later, she gave up and went for a shower to get ready for class. This time she made sure that the laptop was closed while she changed. She left the laptop in her room, resolving to take notes the old fashioned way. All day, the burden of not having her laptop with her was evident. Notes, videos, email were all missing from her routine.
In the afternoon, she returned and again probed the computer and came up empty. By the evening nothing odd had happened, and she was wondering if she had imagined that the computer had been watching her that morning. At best she had seen the green light for a millisecond. Doubt began to fester in her mind. Maybe the webcam hadn't been on and it was all in her head. That night, even though the computer was closed, she fought off the urge to masturbate.
As if to make penance for the previous day, she opted for a long jog the next morning rather than lie in bed and indulge her desires. This time, she took her laptop with her to classes. Sitting in her last class of the day, she was dutifully taking notes on her laptop when her application saved. Lindsey's eyes widened in horror as a chat window opened on her screen.
Hello, Lindsey
.
She slammed the laptop closed so violently everyone noticed. Even Professor Gaines glanced up at her.
"Sorry," she mouthed to him as her heart rate soared. As Professor Gaines continued, her computer beeped. Eyes glanced at her as it beeped again.
"I...um...have to go," she blurted out.
Tossing the beeping laptop into her backpack, she raced from the lecture hall as quickly as she could. She could hear the laptop beeping in her back, like the beating of a telltale heart. She fled from the building, looking for a place to get away from people. English was her last class of the day, so she decided to simply go back to her dorm room. At some point, the beeping stopped. She summoned the courage to pull the laptop out of her bag and plugged it in. She paced for long minutes before taking a deep breath and opening it up. For a few minutes everything looked normal, but then the dreaded chat window opened again and the green webcam light glowed.
Hello, Lindsey.
"Leave me alone," she demanded.
Soon enough. Take off your shirt.
"No."
Lindsey, we've been through this all before. Take off your shirt.
"Listen, asshole," she snarled, "the only reason I took off my shirt was because I had a paper due. Screw you. I'm not taking off my shirt."
Silence hung in the air as her blackmailer pondered his options. Finally, it spoke again.
I'm going to show you some pictures
.
Lindsey watched in amazement as her computer opened Photo Viewer. A picture appeared of her sitting in her bra from a few days ago when he had forced her to take off her shirt. Then a second picture opened. Lindsey's eyes widened: it was a picture of her in a different bra.
"How did you...?"
A third picture opened. This time, she her back was to the camera but she was clearly topless. Lindsey covered her mouth in shock, sinking into her chair. Photo Viewer minimized and the chat screen reappeared.
I've been watching you, and I have more pictures. You wouldn't want these getting out, would you? I'm not asking for anything I haven't already seen. Take off your shirt.
"Please leave me alone," she whimpered.
Remove your shirt.
"No," she whispered, trying to convince herself to stand firm.
The computer brought forward her email program and started a new email. The subject filled in as
Question for you
. Then came the message.
Hey babe, I was wondering which bra you prefer. I can't decide. Help! Miss u : - ) <3
