Hacker’s Punishment, Task 1
by B. H. Paulson

Author's note:  This story was written in response to a request at Writings of Leviticus, after the site was hacked.  It was suggested that someone might write a fictional story about such a person being punished for their transgressions, so this is my try.


Dammit, I am so humiliated right now.  I can't even begin to describe what I'm feeling, but I know this is only the beginning.  So far, nobody but my tormentor has seen me, but I know this will likely change soon.  I have eleven more tasks to fulfill before this blackmail is over, and this one, sort of a warm-up, I'm told, has me so freaked out I don't know if I'll survive the rest.  But I love my job, so I've got to try.  And you're sure to hear about the rest as well, when the time comes.

It's my ex-boyfriend's fault, really.  OK, so it's partially mine, too, for being vindictive, but that doesn't ease my hatred for my tormentor.  My ex was quite computer literate.  He claimed that he could bring down any computer he tried to, except perhaps the ultra-secure government computers in Washington.  He was no genius, but he did know a few tricks.  He even showed me how to do it.  But he did not show me how to not get caught.

I am so pissed at him.  I saw him with another girl.  It turns out, she was his cousin, and I only saw them hugging, but I assumed the worst.  I guess it's true that hindsight is 20/20, but that does me no good now.

He enjoyed reading erotic fiction, and had several sites he liked to visit.  So after I left him, I decided to try and destroy his favorites.  I started with Writings of Leviticus -- he was so into those stories, and even wanted to try a few of them out if I felt courageous enough (which, of course, I didn't -- I’m no exhibitionist, after all).  So I went in and tried to delete everything on the site. 

I succeeded, or so I thought, although I guess the administrator had backup files, and was soon back online.  What was worse, though, is that they were able to trace who I was by my IP address, which I thought I had concealed.  And then one of the regulars at the site was able to track me down, and threaten me with felony charges.

That bastard -- I don't even know his name, he just called himself Levi. But he found out where I worked, where I lived, and even what kind of schedule I keep.  And then he threatened to make an enforced nudity story out of my life.  He told me that he would turn me in if I didn't follow his rules from now on.  I make about $50,000 a year as an administrative assistant at a good-sized corporation.  I really can't afford to lose my job -- I just bought a house!   And I especially don't think I would survive in jail if it came to that.   So I listened to his deal.

First, I would never see his face or know his true identity.  He is simply Levi to me.  It's like Charlie from Charlie's Angels.  I will never know his true identity.  He promised me that I would not enjoy my punishment, but as long as I complete these tasks, he will not have me prosecuted.  The worst part, though, is that I have to complete them, and promptly, if I want him to forgive me, and thus not turn me in.

So here I sit, typing this in to be submitted to the site.  I'm naked right now, at my computer.  I can barely type, my hands are shaking so much.  I don't know what the next tasks will be like, except that I will be seen by more and more people as they go on.  Thank God he isn't making me do this in my hometown, at least not yet.

Tonight when I got home from work, there was a message on my machine.  It told me that I had to strip, right then and there, and that there was a witness watching me (probably Levi), through the window, so I'd better not try anything.  Once I had stripped (with the curtains open, mind you), I would receive a call. 

So, standing in my living room, I took off everything but my bra and panties.  I knew that this was the first of six tasks, and I hoped that this was the extent of it.  So I stood in my underwear, in my living room, hoping nobody would drive by.  After about 10 minutes, the phone rang, and the caller ID said "private call."  I answered, and it was Levi.  He chastised me for not being totally naked. 

"I was hoping this would be enough," I plead, but it wasn't.  In fact, that is how the number of tasks doubled to twelve. 

Me and my stupid shyness!  I guess Levi means business, though, so I had better not disobey him again, if I ever want to get this over with. 

"Take off the rest," he barked.  I was near tears by this point, but I shakily complied.  I took off the panties first, hoping the couch would hide this from view, but I found out that it didn't, as he commented on my thick bush.  So I started on the bra, and I was hardly able to unlatch the clasp, because my hands were shaking so badly.  How could this man be so cruel?  But I finally got it unhooked, and my nipples were rock hard, out of sheer embarrassment. 

"By the time of the next task," he warned, "I had better see just a well-trimmed landing strip leading up from your pussy."  How could he be so disgusting?  "But," he said, "I do like the way you look.  You have a nice figure, and a great ass.  Your breasts are just about right -- not too big, but they’re not tiny either.  I’d like you to try to lose about 10 pounds, and firm up your stomach -- start doing sit-ups in the morning and cut down on some of the sugar in your diet." 

I was mortified -- now this man (or weasel is more like it) is critiquing my body and trying to change me!  And I’m not fat by any means, just not particularly athletic.  But I’m afraid of what will happen if I don’t comply, so I guess I’m going on a health kick.  How did he know I have a sweet tooth anyway? 

But I’m getting off track.  Once I was totally naked, he told me the rest of my first task.  I had to go out to my car, still naked, and drive to a wilderness area in the next town. 

There was a particular hiking trail I had to find (he gave me good directions), and I had to hike the length of it -- about a mile -- and then return home.  Once I got home, I still couldn’t dress, and I had to wait in the living room, with at least one light on, for his call. 

"I’m not a monster," he said (yeah right).  "I will let you wait to leave until dusk.  It’s only supposed to get down to 60 tonight, so it should still be 65 or 70 when you are walking.   And even though it’s still a little bit light out, if you take the back roads, you might not be seen." 

I started to protest, but heard a click as he hung up.  So, since it was only about 6:30, I went to the kitchen and prepared dinner.  I didn’t dare to put anything on, so I ate naked, but I didn’t eat much -- I really had no appetite at this point.  At 8:00, I ventured out to my car.  The sun was starting to set, and I didn’t see any neighbors about (I have a three acre lot, so there is some privacy).

I started the car, and I followed his directions to a T.  He was right, there were no other cars on the road, and I wasn’t seen.  Once I found the spot, it was about 8:30, and the sun was getting low, but there was still some daylight left.  I started down the trail. 

It is amazing how the senses perk up when you are as freaked out and high on adrenaline as I was.  Every time I heard a bird chirp, I jumped.  I looked around, expecting to see someone watching me, but there was never anyone there.  I had probably walked an eighth of a mile when I saw a flash of light.  Was he here, taking pictures?  But no, it was just heat lightning on the horizon. 

I kept walking, still very jumpy, and I saw what looked like flashlights in the distance.  I thought I was going to run into other hikers, but it turned out to be only fireflies.  By about eight or nine minutes into my walk, it was getting quite dark, and I was starting to feel safer.   But then I saw a much more definite flash of light from up ahead.  I started to duck for cover, thinking I might run into someone.  But there were no more, so I started walking again. 

I probably lost five minutes of time hiding behind trees.  Another three or four minutes, and I saw another flash, this one from behind.  But at this point, I just wanted to get it over with.  I walked on, and every two or three minutes, I saw another flash of light.  The pervert was taking my picture, I thought, but quickly dismissed it.  Eventually, after about a half-hour of walking, ducking, hiding, walking, running, hiding, jumping, and so on, I finally reached the end of the circular trail.

I stopped, and I could hear my heart beating, about three times a second.  I couldn’t believe I had just done that, but I went ahead and walked up to my car.  Just then, I saw definite headlights coming down the road, so I ran back into the forest and hid while a police car approached!  He slowed down and looked around, probably aware of the car just sitting there.  Meanwhile I was hiding behind a tree, hoping he wouldn’t see me.  Then my worst nightmare happened -- he stopped and got out of the car.  The police officer started walking down the path!   I was crouched in the bushes by this time, and he walked by me, about four feet away.   I was afraid he would hear my heart racing, but I held my breath and he walked right by.  He was apparently going down the path to investigate and make sure there was nothing fishy going on.  I counted to 100, and when I was sure he was far enough away, I found my keys by my tire where I had left them, jumped in the car, started it, and drove away.

I knew there would be a quicker way home if I took the main road, but there would also be more traffic.  I just wanted to be done, though, so I took the chance, reasoning that after dark, nobody would be able to make out that I was naked.  When I reached the state highway, I saw headlights behind me in the distance -- probably the cop.  But he didn’t turn his lights on or anything, so I turned onto the road and went home, careful not to exceed the speed limit so there would be no reason to pull me over.  Luckily, once I got home, there was nobody out in the neighborhood, so I was able to get inside without being seen, at least as far as I know.  I vowed to clean the garage so I can park in there from now on.

So the task was over -- I hoped.  I went inside, turned a light on in the living room, and waited, naked, for the phone to ring so I could have some closure.  After about five minutes (which seemed like five hours), it rang, and it was some damned telemarketer -- the nerve, calling me after nine at night!  But while I was telling him off, another call beeped in, and it was Levi.  I went back to the telemarketer, disconnected the call, and spoke with Levi again.

"You did well with your first task, but I don’t want you getting too comfortable," he said.  "You will never know when another task is coming -- it may be tomorrow, or it may be two months from now."  Oh God, how long is he going to draw this out?  "But in the meantime," (I started to get nervous) "I don’t want you wearing anything inside the house, and I don’t want you wearing your underwear at all.  You will leave the curtains open, and you will make sure to keep yourself trimmed well.  I will be checking up on you from time to time, and remember that I have pictures now too -- yes, that flash was me."  

I was in tears by this point.  How could I have been so stupid?  He had evidence of me hacking the website, and now he had naked pictures -- outside, no less -- on top of that!  This man was going to take over my life!

"Tonight, I want you to type up a report, while this adventure is still fresh in your mind.  Make sure to include all the details, including the police and the camera flashes.  Don’t send it to me -- send it directly to the website you hacked, so they can post it as they see fit." 

I tried to respond, but all I could do was sob.  That bastard is taking advantage of my anger at my boyfriend and making me into his plaything -- and worse, broadcasting it for others to see!  Or having me broadcast it, rather.

"I’ll be back in touch with you when I feel like it," he said, and then he hung up the phone.

So here I am, naked at my computer, typing up my worst nightmare, except that it isn’t a nightmare at all, but my real life.

Damn you, Levi.  Damn you, Leviticus, whoever you are.  Damn you, Chad (my ex).  Damn all of you perverts reading this story!  And damn you even more if you read the further installments I’m sure I’ll be forced to send.

Good night.

Melanie