Dolled up

I was in the middle of work, focused on finishing some reports, when my phone vibrated with a message. It was James, my roommate.

James: “Dude, I lost my charger. Is there any way I can use yours? I’m almost out of battery.”

In a hurry, I didn’t think twice. I replied with a simple “Sure, get it from my room, it’s in the socket next to the bed.” And I went back to work. However, in the rush of the previous day, I had completely forgotten that I had left some… let’s say, personal things scattered around the room. The wig, the women’s clothes, the makeup, everything there, visible. When I realized what could happen, it was already too late.

James was the curious type. I knew that, but I didn’t think he would touch anything other than the charger. After all, who would do that, right? But the uneasiness hit me out of nowhere, as if I could sense that something was wrong.

An hour later, what I feared was confirmed. My phone vibrated again. This time, a notification from the messaging app we use. When I opened the chat, my blood ran cold.

James: "If you don't want your secret revealed, I want to see this girl in person."

Below the message was a series of photos that he had clearly found on my PC. They were all the photos that I had carefully kept, wearing my feminine clothes, makeup, and a wig. I had never shown these photos to anyone. They were my most intimate side, my secret. And now they were in his hands.

I could barely breathe. The photos kept coming one after the other, as if he wanted to provoke me, to pressure me. I felt exposed, as if every part of me was being ripped out and put under a spotlight.

For a moment, I considered ignoring the message, pretending that nothing had happened. But he knew where I lived, he knew how to find me. And besides, he had proof. I didn't know how far he would go with this threat, but the tone of the message was clear: he wasn't bluffing.

My heart was pounding in my chest, and my mind was racing a thousand miles an hour. I could confront him, I could refuse... but what if he spread these photos around? My work, my friends, my family—everyone would know. What made me most uncomfortable was that, deep down, there was something strangely appealing about the situation. He wanted to see "the girl" in person. He wanted to see me in person, transformed.

With no other options, I took a deep breath and typed my response with trembling fingers.

Me: "Okay. When?"

And... now I'm here...