“Looking For Orders To Command Me
Curvy dark-skinned F26 here searching for someone to issue me orders in a public setting. 18+ only. No violence please!
do NOT contact me with unsolicited services or offers”
After going through the wording for the umpteenth time and cutting the wordage down as much as she could, Neha was at last satisfied with her ad, after mulling over it for days before finally posting it on Gregslist. It didn’t seem like it would’ve taken so long to hear from someone but Neha remained hopeful that the men on there were every bit as creepy and pervy as on pretty much every other gathering of people online since time immemorial. Still, it took far longer than usual to hear from someone interested in an opportunity to degrade a female publicly.
For a few days after posting those ads, Neha continued with daily life at work, checking her inbox once in a while for any responses. Most were bots; some were scams but not one man, it seemed, was willing to take her up on her offer to be commanded and humiliated.
Of course, in the back of her mind, she never intended for things to get too extreme since she could always back out and block the guy if the situation got way over her head. Being a female, she knew she could have her choices of suitable masters and planned to cycle through the “weeds” until she found someone capable of giving her a proper adventure.
At this rate, however, chances of having a bunch of choices looked slim and she was willing to lower the bar for anyone who wasn’t just jerking her around or wasn’t a bot.
Finally, on the fourth day after posting her ad did she finally see some hope in her venture, receiving a message on her Snaptalk of all things, which was strange as she had in no way made it public on any of her postings. Against better judgment, her curiosity and desire outweighed all apprehension she had in responding to a lead at last.
After taking a quick sip of her coffee, she turned her attention away from her screen and checked the notification, her back facing the entrance of her cubicle so no one could see her chatting on the phone on company time.
“Hm? Who’s this ‘Caveat’ fellow?” she wondered as she pulled up her messages. “Latin’s not really my strong point…”
Caveat: You were the one who posted on Gregslist, right?
Me: Who is this?
Caveat: I’m the one you’re looking for.
Me: How did you get my Snap?
Caveat: All you need to know is you now belong to me.
Oh he’s human, all right. Neha didn’t take him too seriously at first, going through all the more mundane possibilities in her head as to how this creepy motherfucker managed to get hold of her Snaptalk. It was possible he found her on another forum someplace and just put two and two together. Always more curious than cautious, though, Neha couldn’t help but want to know more. Who is he? What else did he know? And what does he have in mind? If she was going to see how it played out, the only next step was to respond – for better or worse.
Caveat: You wanted someone to control you, correct?
Me: I wanted someone to give me commands, one time thing. Not some creepy stalker looking to scare me. Now fuck off before I call the police.
Caveat: You sure you want to do that? Cos they’ll be coming for you faster than they would for me.
At first, Neha refused to let herself be intimidated by threats, but after seeing his next message did it become apparent very quickly that this person wasn’t messing around – and on opening those snaps did her hands start going cold, her heart beating rapidly in terror: there it was, a picture from one of her earlier adventures wearing only a mask, spreading her pussy open in a very public cafeteria where she’d found a quiet corner; an oblivious patron just behind her unaware of the naked woman up to her debauchery.
Caveat: This one was my favourite.
“How did this guy get this? I keep it only on one memory card on a second phone!” she thought to herself as Neha’s hands quivered from a sinking realization of the position she’s in.
As he bombarded her with even more pictures stolen from her exhibitionist collections – about 30 of them – each one more than enough to get her in serious trouble with work, family and friends, Neha’s confidence sank to the point where she’d rely on the wishful denial of flimsy defenses and excuses that somehow that naked person in all those photos were all another person.
“It’s okay, he still doesn’t know those are me. I wouldn’t have bothered with the mask otherwise” she assured herself, before killing her Snaptalk chat and deleting the app from her phone altogether, as though it was enough to rid her of the problem. Taking a breather, she stepped out of the office for a quick smoke break to calm her nerves, taking hurried steps in her heels to the lift lobby and calling the elevator.
“Going somewhere Neha?” asked the frontdesk lady loudly and sarcastically, in an obviously deliberate attempt trying to get Neha in trouble again. It was Allison, the semi-retired spinster whom Neha strongly suspected held racist tendencies from her earlier years, having landed her job knowing the previous owner and boss’s dad.
She’d once gotten Neha into hot soup at the last review, mentioning how often she’d go on late breakfasts and early lunches. Neha managed to dodge a bullet with that, though if Allison knew exactly what Neha got up to during her lunches she would have a field day getting Neha fired, blacklisted and investigated for public indecency – in that order.
“Want me to get lunch for you and that husband you never had?” replied Neha snarkily before stepping into the elevator angrily while adjusting her shorter-than-professional miniskirt as she slumped against the wall of the elevator, having no mood to deal with Allison’s shit. Her mind was too preoccupied by the earlier conversation with the Caveat creep, thinking it might have been a bad idea to leave the matter hanging.
No sooner than she could shove her phone into her jacket pocket did she receive a notification, this time from her Lifebook messenger, seeing from the banner on the lock screen that it was from none other than Caveat again.
“Fuck… Lifebook too!?” she almost said out loud as the elevator touched the ground floor, scurrying out to the lobby while unlocking her phone and checking the notification.
Caveat: You and Allison get along really well, I see.
Me: Who the fuck are you? How did you find my lb?
Before Neha could type any more furious replies, Caveat had sent her a picture from her profile that sank all hopes she had of ever escaping this situation she’d inadvertently found herself in: it was Neha’s selfie she took the day she got a misguided tramp-stamp tattoo, done during an ill-advised bender. Right afterward did she receive, in clear view, yet another picture of her naked ass posing against a park bench, this time with the same tattoo on said ass visibly clear as day.
It didn’t help either that Neha had always kept the same short-bob hairstyle since she got the job, which was also as evident as her body shape, skin colour and eyes in those two photos. She may as well have been maskless and naked in both those photos, so indisputable as they were. The mask only served to cover the lower half of her face, all it needed was someone to place her figurative public profile as the naked avenger in those literal public shots.