3 comments/ 284995 views/ 34 favorites Blackmail Ch. 1 By: Gelflet Blackmail Ch. 1: The Photograph Susan kissed her husband Jim and her daughter Lindsay good-bye, and watched them head out to the car. She went to her wreck of a kitchen to take care of the breakfast dishes. The contractors wouldn't be back until tomorrow to continue the work on the kitchen remodel. The floor had been torn up, but the cabinets and counters were still in place. She opened the door to the new deck to catch the autumn breezes, and smiled at the thought of them coming back, especially Tom, the young one. The dishes done, she closed the door again and went upstairs. She made the bed, straightened up her daughter's room, and got ready for a shower. She got the water going, and was just taking off her robe when there was a knock on the door. Wondering who it might be this early in the day, she turned off the water and headed back down, pulling her robe back on, and tying it tight. At the door, she looked through the peephole. It was her next door neighbor, Matt. She and her family had lived there for only a few months, and didn't know the neighbors well. But she opened the door with a smile. "Hi! What brings you over this morning?" "Can I come in for a few? I need to talk with you about something important," he said, not returning her smile. "I know this may be a bad time, but..." "Well, er, I guess so." There was something about his manner this morning, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "I was just about to grab a shower...." But she stood aside and let him in. She knew he'd had a rough few months, and clearly needed to talk today. "Thanks," he said, closing the door behind him. He stepped past her then, very close, and walked into the living room. She must have imagined the deep breath he took as he passed close to her. "How are things?" Susan asked, following him, "Everything okay at home?" Matt turned in the middle of the room to face her. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts. "Susan, I wanted to talk with you about the work you've had done on your house." "Has it been a problem? I know the contractors have been starting early, but I didn't think they were being a bother. They're done with the back deck, from now on it'll be indoor work." She realized she was babbling, but there was something a little off putting about Matt today. Normally an easygoing type, he seemed very tense, nearly wired. She thought she knew what must be bothering him. "Have they been leaving trash in your yard?" "The workers have been fine. But..." He let his words trail off as he pulled a photograph out of his breast pocket and handed it to her. She looked at it, and felt her knees go weak. The picture was of her and Tom, kissing, his hand clearly on her breast, under her sheer blouse. She took an awkward step back and half fell onto the arm of the overstuffed chair behind her. "Oh my god," The words came out as a hoarse whisper. It had been a week ago, to the day. The three- man crew had stopped for lunch, and while the other two had left, Tom stayed. He was 23, a red head, and very hot. Susan was 34, in pretty good shape, and rather lonely. They had hit it off from the first. The other two men were older, and called Tom 'the kid' but she didn't see him that way. She'd caught him looking at her many times, as she walked through the kitchen, or while she was working in the garden. She had taken to wearing shorter skirts around the house, tight or shear blouses, enjoying the attention. It was exciting, showing off her smooth legs, her firm, fairly large breasts. She had started to experiment with her hair, sometimes wearing the long dark tresses up, sometimes down. This day, the two of them were on the nearly completed back deck. Standing closer together than they needed to, he was discussing what still needed to be done. The next thing she knew, they were kissing, hot, almost frenzied kisses, his hands up her shirt, her hands on his tight ass, pulling him closer, grinding her pelvis against his. "I... I thought about stopping," she said haltingly to Matt, "I knew it was wrong, but I just couldn't. I didn't want to." She sighed heavily, not really wanting to admit this but feeling compelled to, as she stared at the picture in her hand, "And it was just about the best sex I ever had. Oh god! What was I thinking?" "Does your husband know about this, Susan?" He was watching her with a hungry look, running his gaze over her body, not bothering to hide it. Wrapped up in her shock, she didn't notice his look. The hand holding the picture shook. "No," she said in a small voice that trembled, "he doesn't. He'd kill me." "I'm sorry to hear that. You know, I've been talking with Jim a lot recently, and I'm getting to like him. He's a very good guy." She nodded at that, not yet meeting his avid gaze. "I'm sure he would be interested in what you do when you're at home, alone." She swallowed hard, and looked up at Matt. This time she saw the look in his eyes. She paled, realizing what he wanted, what his price was for keeping this secret. "Y-you can't tell him," she stammered, "you can't show him this!" She waved the photo at him. "Why not? Don't you think he has a right to know?" "He'll kill me," she repeated, "he'll leave me and take our daughter!" Matt just watched her, saying nothing. "It was... it was a mistake!" she cried, "A moment of weakness!" "I can see that he would make things really hard for you. I see you really love your daughter." Head bowed again, she whispered, "She's my life." She took a deep, shuddering breath,. "He can be very jealous... oh god!" She hid her face in her hands, "what am I going to do?" "I don't have to tell him, you know." Susan looked up, suddenly wary. She heard the tone in his voice, and knew what it said. "What?" "No, I don't," he said, almost airily. Knowing- but fearing the answer, she asked the question anyway, "What do you want?" "Well, Susan, for a start, you can drop that bathrobe." Her jaw dropped, eyes wide. She couldn't believe she was really hearing this. "You know I've found you attractive since the day you moved in." "I... I'd noticed." "That black tank top you were wearing, those cut off jeans..." He smiled at the memory, clearly something he had gone over many times. "Yes, I remember, it was a hot day." She couldn't face those eyes, the open hunger in them, anymore. She looked away, down, anywhere but at him. "Until I saw you that day last week, I thought Jim was a lucky man." He stepped closer, to stand right in front of her, "You know my wife left me." She nodded with a sigh, remembering. It had been messy, only a month after she and her family had moved in. She'd heard them yelling and carrying on in the middle of the night more than once. "I remember that, too. It's been hard on you." "Yes. But I think you can help. Open your robe, Susan." "I can't! How can this help matters?! Two wrongs don't make a right!" "No, they don't. All right then." He turned away, moving away from her. "What time does Jim get home again?" "Oh god." Matt turned back to look at her, letting his eyes roam her body again, before reaching for a picture of Lindsay, "She really is precious, isn't she?" "Yes, she is precious to me. Please!" Tears started rolling down her cheeks, "I'll give you anything you want, but I can't do this! Please, I made a mistake!" "A very big one. You should be more careful. Now you have an important decision or two to make. Like whether or not you're going to open that robe." "Oh god," she struggled to pull herself together. "One." He sat down on a chair across from her. "Two." She stood up, facing him, and took two steps to close the distance between them. "Three." Her hands move shakily to the tie holding the garment closed. "Mmmmm, yes. Let me see what I have been dreaming about." Filled with shame, she half turned away, wanting to run, to flee from this man with the hungry eyes. Her face was red, streaked with tears. "Look at me, Susan! I want to see all of you." Taking a deep breath, she turned back. No more tears. She thought of her daughter, thankfully safe at school, she thought of her marriage that she was defiling once more- to save it. "How messed up is this?" she asked herself. But she knew. "I know this is hard for you, but..." He reached out and ran his hand up the side of her leg. She didn't flinch away from his touch. But she wanted to. "If you know this is hard, then why are you doing it?" She was becoming aware of an excitement growing in spite of herself. "We all have needs, Susan," He looked up at her, and his voice grew harder, "Now do you open your fucking robe or do I tell your husband?" She jumped at his tone as his hand traveled to her thigh. Her hand moved, almost of its own accord, and pulled the tie on her robe, pulling the knot out. "Open it!" Knowing there was no real hope for the situation and that more talk would just get him angry, she moved her hands to the neckline of the robe, and slowly opened it for him. "Mmmmm, yesssss. Very nice." With another sigh, she looked away as she let the robe fall open. "You have a very nice body." Matt leaned back in his chair. "Now take it off." "I..." "NOW." With shaking hands, she pulled the robe off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Naked in front of him, she stood with her head down, not making eye contact. "So, tell me, Susan," he asked conversationally as he got comfortable in the chair, crossing his legs, "Sex with Jim. It's fairly conventional, isn't it?" He let his eyes roam over her bare form. "Mostly, yes," she admitted. "Mostly?" He leaned forward, uncrossing his legs, and reached out to run his hand up her leg to her hip and across her stomach. "He's... he's very busy these days." She shivered at his touch. In truth, the sex had been "conventional" for years now. "Between the house, Lindsay, and work, he doesn't have the energy for much." "Mmmmm. I'm sorry to hear that. I have lots of energy." She had no reply to that, her mind was spinning. "And lots of time on my hands..." A wicked grin crossed his face as he brought his hand down, and slowly inserted a finger into her sex. "Oh god," she breathed, "Ohhhh, no, please don't," she whispered as he slipped his finger in and out. "Susan, don't you realize?" He looked up at her, catching her eye, "I own you." He slid his hand deep, and she moaned half in pleasure, half in fear. "Oh god." "Besides. You're wet." Finger sliding in and out, he also rubbed between her lips, spreading the wetness around. She winced, and looked away again. "That shouldn't make a difference." She had some trouble getting the words out. He touched her clit, and she felt her knees go weak again. "It only makes a difference to you. I'll get off either way." He reached out and pulled her down against him in the chair as her knees gave way. She struggled, tried to push away, but he wrapped his arms around her, and held her close, pressing his lips to hers. His arms tightened around her as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. She tried not to respond, realizing that her efforts were only making him more excited. Once she stopped struggling, one of his hands moved down her back to her ass. He squeezed, kissing her more deeply, and she moaned softly. "Mmmmm." He broke the kiss and whispered in her ear, "The things you will do for me..." "Oh god." Susan put her head down on his shoulder. She knew she was defeated, she had no choice. He grinned into her hair, knowing. His finger pressed against her anus, and she jerked her head back up, "No, please, not that!" "You just realized you can't win." "Yes. I know. But please, not there. Anything but that!" "'That is just the beginning, Susan," he said, pushing her away roughly to stand up, "but I think I'll leave it for another day." She fell to the floor with a whimper. He reached for an ottoman, and pulled it to the center of the room. "Bend over." She crawled to the ottoman, and leaned over it, as directed. He moved in behind her. She heard his zipper going down, and then the sound of his pants hitting the floor. Then she felt pressure against her sex. She whimpered, but shed no more tears as he entered her slowly. He groaned as he felt her wet pussy take him in. "Susan, I like you." She nodded. "So I'm not going to hurt you this time," he said, his cock sliding deep. "I should be grateful for this then?" She bit the words out, not hiding her anger. "Yesssss" But she wasn't sure if he was answering her, or enjoying what he was doing. She buried her face in her hands, feeling how much bigger than her husband he was, how he stretched her as he started pumping in and out of her. She hated it. But. It. Felt. So. Good! "Yesssss," he said again, "Jim seems like a nice enough guy, but..." "But you're going to fuck his wife all you want? How... neighborly of you!" He pushed his cock in deep, and she moaned again. "But he's probably too nice," Matt continued, ignoring her comment. Pumping harder and faster, he leaned over, pressing his body against her back. He ran his hand through her hair. "Oh god!" Not a whimper this times, but a cry of pleasure. She couldn't help it, she was enjoying this! He kissed her neck as he thrust deep. She started to push back against him, meeting his thrusts. "Mmmmm, Susan, you are soooo mine. A good fit, I would say." "Oh god. Just shut up and fuck me!" Matt rode her hard, thrusting into her deeply. She felt him hitting her cervix with each stroke. Skin to skin, sex to sex. His teeth sank into her shoulder. She hardly noticed, or cared, that he was leaving a mark on her. He fucked her with abandon, lost in the feel of her hot, soaked pussy, of her body beneath him. She moved with him, nearly losing herself as well, as his hands moved to her breasts. Her excitement grew and grew as he rolled her nipples between his fingers. "Yesss," she hissed, feeling the approaching climax. He responded by pinching and twisting her nipples harder, mixing pleasure and pain. "Don't stop!" she cried as he kept slamming into her. "Oh God!" Harder. Faster. Deeper. "OH GOD!" "Yes! Cum for me! Cum as I fuck you!" She shook as her orgasm took hold of her. Wave after wave rushed out from her center, the pleasure prolonged by his continued thrusting. He screwed her with renewed vigor as she came again and again. Her juices soaked his cock, and she bit down on the ottoman to keep from screaming. Still he pounded into her. The sound of their bodies meeting and her muffled cries filled the air, as did the scent of her juices and his sweat. She fought to catch her breath, dizzy. She'd never cum so hard in her life! He stopped, and as she turned to look at him, confused, he withdrew and sat back, legs apart, eyes filled with desire. "Susan...." She slipped to her knees and turned to face him, still out of breath, "Yes?" "I want you to finish me. I want you to take me deep into your mouth." Swallowing hard, she considered. Up until now, her reactions- and amazing orgasm- aside, she had been passive. All this had been done to her. Now he wanted her to take an active role in this... blackmail? Yes, that was the right word. Matt watched her, almost reading her mind. He turned to look again at the picture of the dark haired little girl in pigtails. She followed his gaze, and she moved over to him on her hands and knees. She bent over him as he spoke to her. "You might call this blackmail, but I don't know that I would. I might call it instead giving you what you need." Her mouth only inches from his ridged sex, she stopped and looked up at him. "You wouldn't call this blackmail?" She was incredulous. He slid his hands into her hair, lacing his fingers behind her head. "Well, I would call it protecting a marriage." He put a little pressure behind his fingers, "And I would call it making you fulfilled." Susan yielded to the pull, and let herself be gently pushed down to meet his cock. She made no answer to his argument, but instead flicked her tongue out to taste him, tasting herself on him, mixed with his precum. He watched her for a moment, then leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. She cleaned her juices off of him, rolling her tongue around the head and then down the shaft. Hard as a rock, his cock twitched under her ministrations. She made her way back up and then wrapped her hand around him, stroking firmly, but not too fast yet. Her tongue flicked the underside of his cockhead, teasing the very sensitive flesh there. She explored him, mapping out every ridge, every line, sticking her tongue into the slit at the tip, tasting more precum. Then she took him into her mouth, and he moaned, with another, "Yesssss." Just the head in her mouth, one hand stroking him, faster now, her other hand moved to his sac, cupping, massaging his balls. The thought crossed her mind that he was intensely vulnerable now, but while she could hurt him at the moment, there was no way she could prevent him from telling her husband- not only what she had done, but what she was doing right then. She sighed inwardly, and returned her full attention to the task at hand. And mouth. It had been a very long time since she had done this for her husband, she had forgotten how good it felt, the power of giving a man this kind of pleasure. Granted, this was not the man she should be doing this for, but... she found herself enjoying it, and remembered some of the tricks she used to employ. Matt moaned and sighed; his hands still in her hair, gripping, but not guiding. She pulled her hand away from his shaft, and took him all the way into her mouth. His pubic hair tickled her nose, and he gasped as he hit the back of her throat. She pulled back, almost off, and plunged down again. And again. His body arched and his fingers tightened. Again she pulled back, this time running her teeth along his length, just hard enough for the sensation, not to hurt. She wrapped her hand back around him, stroking fast as she sucked hard on him, again flicking her tongue across it. A long, low groan, and she felt his scrotum tighten in her hand as his cock grew harder still, then erupted into her mouth. Jet after jet shot into her mouth as she continued to stroke and suck, milking his cock. There was so much that some cum dribbled down to her chin. He dropped his hands away, letting them fall to his sides as his cock spurted one more time. She caught it, and he looked down at her, quite satisfied. One last stroke and she pulled off. She looked up at him as she sat back on her heels. Making eye contact, she raised her hand to her mouth, and spat into it. He laughed, watching her reach for her discarded robe to wipe her hand and face off. She pulled it around her. "Mmmmm, Susan. That was very good," he smiled broadly. "You can keep the picture. I have another." Leaning over, he kissed her gently on the forehead and then stood up. He ran his fingers through her hair before he bent over to pick up his pants. Head down again, she whispered, "Somehow I knew you were going to say that." "Sadly," he said, pulling his pants up, "I am a tad predictable. Besides, I preferred to ensure another visit." Another smile. "Many more to come." She shivered, coming to grips with the realization that today wouldn't be the end of this. And the frightening fact that that didn't upset her. She was almost pleased to have it so. "You were great," he said. Head still down, her long hair screening her face, she smiled, sure that he couldn't see. "Thank you," she said quietly. Blackmail Ch. 1 "You're welcome, my dear. See you soon." He bent to kiss her on the head then headed to the door, with a big, satisfied smile on his face. He'd wanted her for months. Now he had had her. And was thinking about more. "Now you really should get that shower." "Yes," she agreed, wiping her face again with her sleeve, "and do some laundry." A thought struck her, "Matt?" His hand on the door knob, he turned back to her, "Yes?" "What if there's another neighbor with a camera?" "Then we will have company, won't we?" His eyes lingered on her huddled form. He opened the door. "Oh god." "Something tells me you can handle it." He left, closing the door behind him. Susan sat on the floor for a very long time. Blackmail Ch. 2 1:23am. The lights were out, the family asleep. When the phone rang, Susan reached for it sleepily. "Hello?" "Hello Susan. It's Matt," purred the soft voice in her ear. Instantly awake, heart pounding, she scrambled out of bed and took the phone with her out into the hall. He kept talking. "I've been thinking about the other day," he murmured in her ear. She pulled the door closed without latching it, behind her. "What the hell are you thinking?! Calling at this hour?" she hissed into the phone. "I was thinking you should come over to please me." Behind her she could hear her husband, Jim moving in the bed. "Now?!? Are you mad?" She cracked the door and peeked into the bedroom to check on him. "Susan? Who is it?" Jim's sleepy voice called. She didn't think he was really awake, but she answered him. "It's nothing hon, just a wrong number. Go back to sleep." The voice in her ear laughed. "Susan, I'm not crazy. Just horny. I keep seeing you naked body. Hearing the sounds of your pleasure." Jim rolled over in the bed. "Okay dear." She closed the door again. "Look," she whispered into the phone again, "I can't. There's no way." "I'm sorry to hear that." A pause. Then she heard a deep breath as her heart thudded in her chest, her ears. "Can I speak to Jim? Or should I talk with him in the morning?" She sagged against the wall. "No," she sighed. Internally she was kicking herself. "I'll be over soon." "Susan..." "Yes?" "I want you to wear something slutty. I'll be waiting." "I don't have anything slutty." She opened the door a crack again, looking in. "Nothing you wear for Jim? A little outfit, perhaps?" "I told you before. He's not into any of that stuff." "Well you'll have to figure something out, won't you?" he asked with an evil chuckle. "I want my slut to look the part." "Fuck," she muttered under her breath. He laughed again. "See you soon." Click. She hung up, closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. Tried to still her pounding heart. The phone rang again, and she nearly dropped it. "What?!" she hissed at him. "You want him awake, don't you!" "You may want to tell him something, in case he wakes up. This may take a while." "I haven't got a clue what to say." Jim stirred again in the bedroom. "Honey?" Hoping he couldn't hear the tremor in her voice, she she called softly into him, "It's okay love, really. Go back to sleep." "Surely you have a friend how needs your help. You'll think of something." Matt hung up again. Susan hit the "off" button on the phone and headed back into the bedroom, thinking furiously. She put the phone back into its cradle and sat down on the bed. "Who was that?" he asked sleepily. She stroked his hair, and he shifted over to her, laying his head against her leg. "I love you, you know that?" He draped his arm around her. "It's Jane, from down the street. Her baby's sick, she's not sure if she needs to take him to the hospital, and her husband's out of town. She asked me if I could help, and if need be, stay there with the older kids." A lump rose in her throat. "And I love you too." She bent to kiss him, and then got up. Opening the bottom dresser drawer, she started to pull clothes out, knowing that Jim wouldn't suspect what she was looking for. "You're such a good friend to her. You know they've been having problems... I've been talking with her husband about it." He yawned. "Yes," she responded, distracted. "She told me." "Stay as long as you need to, my love." He rolled back over and was shortly snoring softly again. She dug deeper in the drawer until her fingers found - there. Pulling the garment out, she looked at it in the dim light from the night light in the hall. A black bustier, given to her almost ten years ago as a bridal shower gift, worn only twice. Jim had liked it well enough, but wasn't too interested. So she had buried it away in the dresser, and had nearly forgotten it was there. Why she hadn't thrown it away when they'd moved, she didn't know. Finding the accessories that went with it took a little more doing. But she gathered everything together, along with a simple dress out of the closet, and went to the bathroom to change. She pulled off her robe and nightgown, then dressed quickly. She'd forgotten to bring the phone in with her, and didn't want to risk Matt calling back if she took too long. The bustier fit a little differently now, but that was understandable, it had been nearly a decade after all. And she'd had a baby. But it did still fit. Over this she pulled the loose dress, buttoned down the front. She went down the hall, she had reached the steps when she heard a soft, "Mommy?" Susan turned and went to her daughter's room. "Go back to sleep sweetheart," she said, giving the eight year old a hug and a kiss. Lindsay was asleep again almost immediately, as children do, and never felt her mother's tears on her cheek. With a heavy sigh, she left the house after pulling on a light jacket. She walked through the dead leaves in the yard, trying not to make too much noise, grateful that Matt's back porch light wasn't on. She knocked on the door. He opened it, dressed in a worn bathrobe, a glass of red wine in his hand. "You took your time, I'm not happy about that." "I had to think of something to tell him, didn't I?" He just snorted at that. "Not my problem. Would you like some wine?" Still standing in the doorway, he offered her his wine glass. "No." "It's Merlot." "No, thank you." "It's a good vintage." "I'm sure it is." "Suit yourself. Come in." She stepped past him into the messy living room, holding her jacket tightly around her. He closed the door and walked over. As she looked around the room, noting the dirty dishes on the coffee table, video tapes and CDs scattered around, he turned her to face him and wrapped his arms around her. She didn't pull away, but she stiffened in his arms. As he leaned in to kiss her, she could smell the wine on his breath. "Mmmmm, Susan," he breathed, drinking in her scent, "I can't wait to see what you have in store." "What *I* have in store?" But he didn't answer her, instead pulling her close and pressing his lips to hers. She let him kiss her, thinking to herself, "If I don't respond, maybe, maybe then it'd be over faster, or better yet, he'll lose interest." Even as she thought it though, she felt her resolve waning. His hands slid down her to her ass, and he pulled her close, his hard cock pressing against her. She couldn't help herself, she started to kiss him back. It did feel good... No one had ever touched her in this kind of way before. As if he owned her. Then she remembered what he'd said the first time. He did own her, in a way. She hated it. And she loved it. And she hated that too. She took some small comfort in the fact that while he had forced her, it hadn't been violent. He hadn't hurt her. And he had said he'd been attracted to her since she'd moved in. "It's not much," she thought to herself, "but it's something." Letting her hands slip around his waist, she continued to kiss him back. She wanted to forget who this was, to pretend it was her husband, but she couldn't, quite. His hands moved back up, this time under her jacket, exploring the curves of her body. He broke the kiss, "I can see you're liking this, aren't you?" She flushed and looked away. This was NOT the way a married woman was supposed to behave. He released her. "Take off your coat and go up stairs to my room." She took off her jacket as he refilled his wine glass. Unsure of what to do with it, she placed it on the arm of the couch. She glanced at the stairs and then back at him. She'd never been in his house before. He noticed. "Second door on the right." He gestured for her to proceed him and she went, aware she had no choice. He was right behind her, caressing her ass with his free hand. Then he slipped it under her skirt, feeling up to the tops of her stockings. "Mmmmm. You wore something slutty..." "You told me to dress like this didn't you?" He smacked her ass. "Hurry up, my little slut!" She moved a little faster, and turned into the bedroom, wrinkling her nose at the stale air in there. There were dirty clothes strewn about the room, some on the floor, some on the bed. She noted the two empty bottles and the number of glasses on the floor by the side of the bed. There was another bottle on the bedside table. Matt saw her taking in the room. "Yeah, the place is a mess. Hasn't been the same since Brenda left." Putting his glass down, he sat on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. "So I see." She stood there, looking at him, not wanting to touch anything. And unsure what he wanted tonight. Other than sex. "Go to the foot of the bed." Susan walked over and stood there. "Look at me and tell me how much you want me." She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. "I don't want you. I want you to leave me the hell alone." He raised his arms and crossed them behind his head. In a stern voice he spoke her name. She took a deep breath. Then he reached for a photograph on the bedside table that she hadn't noticed. He looked at it before grinning and turning it for her to see. "Tell me, Susan." It was another picture of her, with Tom, the contractor who'd been working on her house. This image showed her hand on his cock through his jeans, and her smiling up at him. She blanched. Yes, she'd known that he had more pictures, but... how many? How long would this go on? Matt grinned deviously. "Looks like you've been very naughty. Tell me," he repeated. She met his eyes. In a dead voice, she said, "I want you. Oh baby, oh baby, take me now, I must have your rock hard cock." "Oh come now Susan, you can do better than that. Or should we just call Jim?" He reached towards the phone on the bedside table. "By the way, how is your daughter?" Not normally one for cursing, she muttered, "Fuck," under her breath. "Twice in one night," she thought. "Mmmmm, a mouth like a sailor." His grin widened again and he picked up his glass. "I'm sure I can find other uses for it." She ignored that comment. "Please. You've got me here. You know you can do what you want to my body. Do you have to make me do this too?" "You will do what I say when I say. I will do with you what I want, where and when I want to. Out of doors, in your house, in your church. So. Tell me. What brings you here?" Her hands were clenched at her sides. She hated this. She hated him, being here, and most of all she hated herself for getting into this situation in the first place. Closing her eyes, she said, "I'm here because you called. Because you want me." She couldn't believe she was going to say this... "Because I want you too," she whispered. After that admission she couldn't look at him. "Mmmmm. Good. Take off your dress." Without an argument and only a slight hesitation, she unbuttoned her dress, still not looking at him. The bustier came into view and he raised his glass in appreciation. "Very nice." He took a long sip as she slid the dress off her shoulders and let it puddle around her feet, exposing to him her garter belt and stockings.... and the fact that she wasn't wearing panties. She hadn't been able to find the ones that belonged with the outfit. His smile broadened again. "So Susan... What will you be for me tonight?" "Be for you? What do you want?" "Susan." He spoke her name sternly. She sighed, "Yes, Matt?" "What will you be for me tonight?" "Anything you want me to be." "So, you are...?" His eyes roamed over her body, her lingerie. He licked his lips. She grimaced in frustration. She was sure she knew what he wanted her to say, but she didn't want the words in her mouth. "What. Do. You. Want?!?" "A slut. What are you?" "Then I'm your slut tonight." He sat up, putting the wine glass down again, and moved to sit at the end of the bed, right in front of her. "Tonight?" His hand went to her ass. "No," she hug her head, "Not just tonight, apparently." "God," she thought to herself, and not for the first time, "what the hell am I doing? It doesn't matter if I want him or not, I SHOULDN'T be here!" "Ah, I may tire of you yet...." Hope sprang up in her, a pathetic little thing. "But... No promises." And that tiny spark died again, scarcely born. She sighed as he squeezed her ass possessively. "Mmmmm. You're so firm." "Thank you," she said quietly. "I try to take care of myself." "That's good. Brenda didn't." Susan heard a hollow laugh somewhere back in her mind. She found herself considering gaining weight. A great deal of it. His hand on her ass moved, one finger traveling down the crack, and she shivered at his touch. Some part of her *did* want him, she had already admitted that.... She could feel herself growing excited, could feel the moisture growing between her legs. Then his finger pressed against her tight hole. She tried to shift away from him as he reached for her breast with his other hand. "No- Please!" He didn't stop, holding her in place instead of groping her, and pushed his finger in. She moaned and whispered, "No..." Pushing it in deeper, he was clearly enjoying doing this to her. He pulled his finger almost out, then back in it went. "No! Please, stop it!" "But it's so tight," he said, his eyes on her. "Yes, it is, but it hurts! Please, I beg you!" He pushed his finger deep again. "Oohhh god," she moaned again. "Susan, bend over." She looked at him in alarm, fear clear on her face. But the expression on his face told her not to argue. With great reluctance, she bent over the footboard. He withdrew his finger and stood up. His erection was clearly visible under his robe. He caressed her ass with both hands as he moved behind her. "Hmmm. Susan... I want to use you, but to show you that I do have some heart, I won't take you there." She sagged in relief. "God..." she breathed, "Thank you." "Spread your legs. Show me your pussy." She could feel his eyes on her as she complied. He admired the way the garter belt and stockings framed her ass. One of his hands went to her pussy, the other one smacked her ass. She jumped, not expecting the stinging slap. He slid a finger into her and she moaned, feeling him stir more inside of her than her wet pussy. He slipped his hand forward, moving between her lips up to her clit. "So tell me what you are." She buried her face in the quilt as his finger moved in tight circles over her little nub. Trying again and failing to pretend this wasn't happening, at least not like this. She moaned again. Both of his hands on her now, one on her clit, with the other he slid two fingers back into her. She wiggled her hips around his hands and he smiled at her reaction, his cock straining under his robe. He withdrew his hand, wet with her juices, and slapped her a second time. She cried out again. Another smack, then he pushed his fingers back into her. Her breath was coming faster, a little ragged, and small moans kept escaping her. "Now, what are you?" "I'm.. I'm a slut," she panted. "Yessssss!" He slid his fingers deep. More moans from her, she could feel that she was getting close... so close. He stopped. She gasped, confused at the sudden lack of stimulation, unsure of what to do as he withdrew his hands. Still bent over the bed, she turned her head to look back at him. He knelt down, his face was just inches from her sex. She could feel his hot breath on her. "Spread your lips for me," he ordered. Slipping her hands under her body, down to her pussy, she opened herself for him, arching her back also, angling her hips to give him better access. He inhaled deeply. "You smell so sweet." "Thank you," she said, again in a whisper, not knowing what to say. Then she had no more words as he pressed his face into her. She moaned as he tongued her clit first, then moved back, dipping into her, tasting. His jaw worked as he ran his tongue in and out of her, over her lips, to her clit and back. She shuddered as he tasted her, teased her, pleased her. He pressed his jaw into her hard, and she moaned more. He shrugged out of his robe and stroked himself as he worked her pussy over with lips and tongue. She pulled her hands out from under her body and she clutched at the bedding as he ate her like a man starved. Up and down, front to back, running his goatee over her lips- THAT was something she'd never felt from her clean shaven husband! He wrapped his mouth over her clit, sucking as he fluttered his tongue over it. Moaning louder, she started to shake. He worked his tongue faster as her body tensed. There was nothing else in the world for her at that moment. No thought, nearly no breath, just his mouth on her, taking her past what she had thought her limits were. She cried out as her orgasm claimed her. It hit her hard, arching her back, and she thrust back against his eager mouth. She shook with the strength of it, and then sagged on the bed, gasping for air. He kept going, following the movements of her body even as she collapsed. He continued to work on her clit as she soaked his face with her juices, and slipped two fingers into her pussy to feel the contractions there brought on by her climax. "Ohhh.... oh god... stop... please," she pleaded, gulping for air, "No more..." He sat back, his face wet with her cum, his goatee matted with it, "Was that good for you, Susan?" he smiled, licking his lips. "You do taste good!" Susan slowly came back to herself, catching her breath. His hands traveled over her body, toying with the garters, slipping his fingers under the bottom edge of the bustier she still wore. "Tell me...." He first unhooked the garters, then his hands moved to the fastenings on the front of the garment, as he spoke he slowly undid the little hooks and pulled the garment off, "Does Jim do that to you?" "Not... Not for a very long time." She wouldn't admit that her husband had *never* done that to her- at least, not nearly so well. He slapped her ass, hard. She yelped in pain and surprise. "What did you do that for?!" "Because I can." He hit her again, "That's for asking questions." She hid her face in the blankets. "Not used to pain, huh, Susan?" He admired the red hand print on her ass. A muffled "No." was her answer. She struggled not to cry, and tried to wipe away the tears that sprang to her eyes with out him seeing. "A slut like you needs to get used to it." He paused, and she heard the sound of him pulling something towards him. Then his belt came down hard across her back. She never saw the blow coming. She screamed. "You're such a dirty little whore!" he shouted over her cries. The belt came down again, on her ass this time. "Stop, PLEASE!" "What are you, Susan?!" Another blow. She screamed again, and hoping that saying it would stop the attack, she cried out, "I'm a slut! Please, I beg you! Please stop," she sobbed. He struck her again, and she slipped off the end of the bed where she had been leaning, and curled up on the floor. One more blow as she huddled there, and one more scream. "Now, who's a slut?" Whimpering, she said, "I am." She didn't move, curled up tight, her hair covering her face. Her back was on fire. She hadn't been in this much pain since her miscarriage. And no one had *ever* treated her like this. "Yesss." "Oh god," she whispered, realizing-- the welts on her back would become bruises. "You've marked me..." They might not be permanent, but it would be more than a week before they were gone. "Yes. You're mine." "What if Jim sees? How am I going to explain this away? If I tell him the truth, your little game is done." Blackmail Ch. 2 "As is your marriage." "My life might be ruined, but I think he just might kill you." "I'd advise you not to let him see." "He's my husband," she wailed, "How can I keep him from seeing my body?" "Jim... mild, quiet, Jim," he snorted, "You'll find a way." She curled tighter around herself. "Now. I am going to fuck you. And maybe I will let you go home." "Oh god." "Once I'm good and done with you." The thought flashed through her mind, "I guess it could be worse. At least he's good looking. Where the hell did that come from? What difference did his looks make here???" Her mind spun wildly. "Oh god," she whispered again, no longer weeping. "He won't help you." Matt looked at her. Even curled up in a tight ball, shaking, angry welts down her back and ass, he still found her hot. He wasn't sure why this made him more angry. "Roll over," he demanded, "I want your back on the floor." "Is this really what you want?" she asked as she slowly, painfully complied, "You really want me like this? Beaten, bruised, weeping?" Clearly he did want her, his dick was rock hard. She hissed as she rolled over, the rub stinging against her back. "Open your legs." Reluctantly, she spread for him, waiting for him to answer her, not sure that he would. "You will heal," he said, kneeling and positioning himself between her legs, "No permanent damage." She knew she might regret the next words out of her mouth, but she couldn't help herself. "Is this the only way you can get a woman then? Blackmail? Beatings? Is this the reason your wife left you?" He held her legs as he entered her, "She couldn't handle my..." He slid in deep. "Desires." She moaned in spite of herself. She couldn't help it, he did feel good inside her. Damn it all. He moved inside her, long slow strokes. "You're beautiful," he told her. "Jim really should do more for you." He pulled back, pushed in, in a maddening rhythm. Her hips rose to meet him as he increased his pace. His hands moved up from her legs to her breasts. Deeper he thrust into her, filling her more than her husband ever did. Fast and furious now, he fucked her. His hands clutched at her breasts as skin met skin. He pinched her nipples and she moaned louder, as he slammed into her, hard and fast. She matched him thrust for thrust. She reached up and pulled his head down to her, needing his mouth. Their lips met in a deep kiss as she thrust her tongue into his mouth. Lust over took her as he kissed her hungrily. She knew how much he wanted her, and she found herself wanting him just as much, right or wrong. Their tongues wrestled together. Her hands moved around him as the sounds of their bodies meeting filled the room. He moaned into her mouth as she ran her nails down his back, digging deep, leaving her mark on him as he had marked her. Faster he went, his body tensing and she arched under him, another orgasm rushing over her. She felt him swell inside her as he kept thrusting. With a groan, he started shooting his cum into her, jet after jet spurted, washing her insides. "Oh yes! Oh fuck yes!" he cried out. Suddenly she froze, her orgasmic glow gone. She was stone cold sober, realizing what had happened, what he had just done. Still wrapped in his own pleasure, it took him a moment to notice her reaction. He looked down at her. "What?" One last thrust. "I... I'm not on the pill," she stammered, "Oh Jesus." Above her, his face changed, suddenly sad. "The real reason my wife left me..." He closed his eyes against the pain of it. "I'm sterile." He lowered his body on top of her, and laid his forehead on her shoulder. "You are? You're sure? I'm sorry, but I have to know!" He pushed up on his arms to look her in the eye, incredulous she could ask after he had admitted that. "Do you see my wife? Any kids?" He was angry. "Did you ever bother to see the envy in my eyes every time I saw you with your family? When the three of you went past my house on your walks?" She flinched away from his anger. "I'm sorry, I am. But if I were to get pregnant..." She let the word hang there for a moment. "You must understand that!" His face crumbled. "I didn't know," she said, as he buried his face between her breasts. "No reason you would," he whispered. She wrapped her arms around him, repeating, "I'm sorry." Yes, he'd just treated her brutally, but she couldn't help but respond to his pain. As she stroked his head, she felt wetness on her chest, and knew it to be his tears. He held on to her, and after a few long minutes, he spoke quietly. "Since she left... and she left me emotionally years ago... since she left I hate, yet love women. Missing their embrace, and yet not feeling I could approach. Missing...." Susan continued to stroke his hair, letting him talk. "And then you gave me this opportunity... a chance to be with a woman... who... I desire." "Is this the way you want someone though?" she asked quietly. "Against her will?" Her hand moved to rub his neck. His face still hidden between her breasts, he whispered, "Tell me, if I called, would you come?" He let his breath out in a rush. "God I missed this." "I came tonight, didn't I?" "Yes, but was it because you had to or wanted to?" "No," she told him honestly, "It was because I had to. But I'll tell you this." He looked up again, meeting her eyes. "While it frightened me to hear your voice on the phone tonight, it sent a thrill through me also." "Have you been thinking about our encounter a few days ago?" "Often," she admitted. "The memory sneaks up on me. But," she needed to drive the point home, "I *am* married. I can't give you all that you need." He pulled out, but still held her. "I shouldn't be giving you this, or letting you take it, rather," she finished. "Mmmm. You'd best go home. I'll see you again," he kissed her, and then got up. "I need sleep. Go." She sat up, pulled her discarded clothes to her. He offered his hand, she took it and he pulled her to her feet. She pulled on her dress and rolled up the bustier, not wanting to put it back on now. Matt walked her to the stairs, and she went downstairs alone, retrieved her jacket and left via the back door. He went back into his bedroom and poured himself another glass of wine. Blackmail Ch. 3 After leaving Matt's place that night, she made her way back home and sat on her porch watching his house carefully. Shivering from the chilly pre dawn air, she thought about the bizarre twist events had taken as she twisted the bustier in her hands. There were still lights on over there, upstairs and down. The sex she had expected, but the beating... Then the revelation about why his wife had left him, his emotional outburst... those things she had not been prepared for. She could feel his cum on her thighs, cold and mostly unwelcome. The light went out in the upstairs window, and though she sat there and watched for another half-hour, they stayed on downstairs. Good, that meant he'd screwed up. She'd left the backdoor unlocked, and it didn't appear that he'd bothered to go downstairs and check. When he went out during the day, he almost always used the front door. That gave her a chance to get out of this situation. Chilled, she let herself into her own front door, and went upstairs. She took off the loose dress and the garter belt with the stockings, wincing as she moved the sore flesh of her lower back and buttocks. Looking in the mirror, she saw the still livid welts that would be bruises before long. Matt had been vicious, more than she could have expected of him. Of course, she hadn't expected him to beat her when she'd gone over a few hours before. But then, before he had shown up a few days ago with that photograph, she hadn't known him very well. She slipped her nightgown over her head, stuffed the bustier, garter belt and stockings deep into the hamper. She told herself that she really needed to get rid of them. Moving as quietly as she could, she padded to her bedroom and slipped into the bed next to her husband. He rolled over, put his arm around her waist and snuggled in, spooning. She forced herself not to react as he pressed his body against her aching back. "You're cold," he whispered. "Everything okay with Jane and her kids?" he asked, reminding her of the lie she had had to tell him. "They're fine, everyone's okay," she told him. "The baby has colic, that's all. In fact," she couldn't believe how easily the story came to her, "Jane was so embarrassed at getting me out of bed in the middle of the night that she made me promise not to tell her husband." "Really?" He chuckled softly. "Yes, poor thing. She's so frazzled these days. Don't tell him about it, okay? She'd just feel awful." "No problem." He was drifting off again, she could tell. She lay there in his arms, amazed at what was happening inside her. She was being blackmailed by her neighbor; she was at his beck and call for sexual favours. While she hated what he was doing to her, the beating tonight being not the worst of it, some growing part of her liked it. She turned that thought over in her mind... "The beating not the worst of it?" What did that mean? The physical pain she had experienced that night was bad, humiliating, but this control that Matt was exerting over her... that could just be worse. And she had just lied to her husband for the second time in one night. Here was this man, certainly good looking enough, who wanted her. Who wanted her enough to stoop to blackmail and threats? Her husband was a good man, a provider, and a good father to their daughter. But he was hardly her lover anymore. Oh, there was love there, certainly, but the passion had died long ago. When they did make love, it was simple, straightforward, and more sex than making love. She'd craved more for a very long time, but she knew her husband, and knew that he wasn't going to change. That's why she had turned to the contractor, Tom, that day. Her first slip in nearly ten years of marriage... And she had opened herself up to this. To Matt and his god-damned camera. But if he didn't check his backdoor when he went out later that day... there was hope. She lay in the circle of her husband's arms, contemplating her freedom as she drifted off to sleep. ---- The alarm went off at 7:00 as usual, and even though she hadn't gotten very much sleep, Susan leapt out of bed. She had a plan. She knew how to get out of this situation. "You seem happy this morning," Jim commented after his shower, as she bustled about the bedroom, making the bed and laying out her clothes for the day. "Thank you, hon, I feel really good today!" And she did, aside from the pain still in her back. He slipped his arms around her from behind and again she had to do her best not to flinch as he touched the bruises. There was no way she could explain them away. One maybe, she could say she fell last night. But there were five of them, laddered down to her buttocks. "I'm glad," he said, nuzzling her ear, "You've seemed so tense the last few days." She smiled, thinking that soon that particular tension would be gone for good. Patting his hands, she said, "I have to get Lindsay up." "Okay, love." He kissed her on the cheek and let her go. She left the room and he got dressed. Breakfast was hurried as usual, then she saw them both off. Jim drove Lindsay to school each day, father- daughter time. They didn't get much of that, with the hours that Jim worked. Alone, she went back upstairs to dress. Then she made herself another cup of coffee, and settled down by the window to wait. She had a clear view of Matt's house. She couldn't see the front door, but the car in the driveway and the back door were both in plain view. When he left, she would know. And she'd know if he used the back door, she hoped it was still unlocked from last night. "Let him forget about that," she prayed. He'd been drinking, there was a chance. But she didn't know how much of one. An hour and a half later she saw him get into his car and leave. She forced herself to wait ten minutes, and she headed over. Her heart in her throat, she put her hand on the doorknob, and turned it. YES! She had been right, he had forgotten to check the door! She slipped inside, her heart pounding. She stood in the hall, thinking. Where would he keep the pictures? Would the negatives be in the same place? Upstairs. In the bedroom. She would have bet her life that's where they were. But then, she nearly was betting her life, at least the life she had with her family. She didn't want to go up there, not after what had happened last night. Steeling herself, she went anyway. Susan knew she had to hurry. Matt had lost his job a couple of months ago, so there was no way for her to know how long he would be gone. Halfway up the stairs, the phone rang, scaring her half to death. She grabbed onto the railing to steady herself, she could hardly hear for the blood pounding in her ears. Calming down, she heard the answering machine picking up in the living room. She went back to the foot of the stairs, and listened to the incoming message. "Good morning Mr. Hildebrand. This is Karen calling from the law offices of Michaels and Bains. We have some papers here for you to sign regarding your wife's alimony. I believe we had some questions for you from her lawyer also. Oh yes- and I have a note here about a package you wanted us to hold for you. It's an unusual request, but I believe we can accommodate you. Please call us back as soon as you can..." She stopped listening and headed back up the stairs. Turning into the bedroom, again she was hit with the stuffy air, the smell of dirty clothes and old wine, now mingled with a whiff of stale sweat, and sex. She looked around, considering. The room looked worse in daylight than it had last night. She opened the dresser and searched through the drawers, nothing. The bedside table, the closet, under the bed, no joy. There was a sound-- from outside? She froze, listening with every fiber of her. What would she say, what could she do if he came home? But the noise didn't come again, and slowly she relaxed a little. She started digging through the closet again, maybe she'd missed something? Then she stopped, thinking, running over in her mind what she knew about Matt. Then she walked over to the bed and after a moment's hesitation, lifted the pillow. There it was. A plastic envelope, the kind pictures come in now. Her hand shook as she reached for it. She flipped it open, and saw that they were indeed the pictures of her with the contractor. It looked like a full roll. And the negatives were there! She breathed a sigh of relief, she had them at last! But she couldn't linger. She replaced the pillow and fairly fled the house, making sure to lock the door behind her. Just in case. Didn't want him to discover his lapse before she could confront him with it. She walked across his yard into hers, stuffing the envelope into her blouse. When she was nearly at her front steps, she heard a car. She turned to see Matt's car turn into his driveway. Susan felt her heart pounding again. There was no reason for him to suspect she had been in the house, but the adrenaline still flooded her. It was all she could do to act casually, kneeling down to dead head some mums. She wanted to run into her house and bolt the door, not be out here in the open, but she couldn't, she didn't dare. He got out of the car and called, "Hi," with a friendly wave. She stood, looked over at him, and then turned and with measured steps, walked inside. She thought she could hear his laughter following her. Closing the door behind her, she leaned back against it, breathing deeply, shaking a little. That had really been too close. Another minute, and she would have been caught. But she'd done it! Without the pictures, it was his word against hers, and there was no way, none, that Jim would believe Matt over her. She felt empowered, like she could take on the world. But she didn't need to. Just one neighbor. She decided that she would act tonight, once her family was asleep. It would be a long day... ---- A very long day indeed. But it was over now. The dinner dishes were clean, Lindsay's homework finished, and she had been asleep for hours. Jim had just put the light out after they had read for a little while. The same as usual. Everything the same as the night before. Except that she was waiting for her husband to fall asleep. Waiting for her chance to go to Matt and declare his hold on her broken. Jim snuggled up to her, fitting his body to hers from behind as she lay on her side, one hand cupping her breast. He started to nuzzle at her neck as he caressed her nipple through her nightgown. She recognized the gentle overtures for what they were and considered feigning sleep. How could she give her husband the attention he deserved tonight? His hand moved up from her breast to stroke her cheek and then to turn her face to his. He kissed her, sweet and gentle, and she knew she wouldn't refuse him. She rarely did, as he didn't often make the first move. Kissing him back, she could feel him growing hard against her buttocks. Susan shifted onto her back, and his hand traveled over her, back down to her breasts, and then down further. He reached up under her nightgown to her sex. She raised her hips and pulled the nightgown up over her hips, to give him free access. He opened her pussy lips, letting his fingers move around her clit, and then he slipped a finger into her. She stiffened, this was the first thing Matt had done to her, but Jim took her reaction as pleasure and continued to play with her. With an effort, she pushed the vivid memory aside. It taunted her though, from a corner of her mind. She kissed him back, and moved her hand to stroke him. They both knew what the other liked. They should, having been married for going on ten years. Then why did she find herself craving a firmer hand? A rougher touch? He climbed on top of her and eased himself into her waiting sex. So loving, so gentle, so... boring. NO! How could these unwanted thoughts keep running through her mind? She loved him. He was her husband! She tried again to push these thoughts away, willing her uncooperative body to respond to her husband the way it responded to Matt. Jim kissed her as he moved inside her, his pace picking up. She moved under him, raising her hips to meet him, knowing that it wouldn't be much longer before he came. He was silent, as ever; the only sound from him was his breathing. With a small grunt, he thrust hard, once, twice, three times. She felt his cum fill her, and she arched against him with a moan. Still absorbed in his own orgasm, he took her reaction to be her own climax. He relaxed on top of her, and kissed her one more time before pulling out and rolling off of her, leaving a wet smear across her thigh. He draped a sleepy arm over her, and said, "Good night, sweetheart." "Good night," she rolled back onto her side, facing away from him. She listened to him, to his breathing. He was asleep in a few minutes. She watched the clock on the bedside table. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen. Sure he was fast asleep, she carefully slipped out from under his arm and out of the bed. In the bathroom, she washed herself, and pulled out the clothes she had hidden in the linen closet earlier that day. She quickly pulled on the baggy jeans, turtleneck and the old sweater. She checked on Lindsay, and then headed out. Crossing over to his yard quickly, she went to Matt's back door. Feeling the thrill of empowerment again, she knocked. She wanted to pound on the door, to batter it down. There was music coming from inside the house, jazz, she thought. She could also see that the TV was on. She waited. There was no reply, she couldn't see him coming down the hall. She knocked again, harder, and heard the music stop, saw the light from the TV go off. He came to the door, a self-satisfied smile on his face. He opened the door, and just looked at her for a long moment. She knew he was trying to make her uncomfortable, but she held her ground, met his eyes, and waited for him to speak. "Susan, I didn't call you." He chuckled. "Just can't stay way, huh?" he asked with a smirk. She'd had enough of this. She pushed past him and walked into the living room. There was a symmetry to this, she realized. He had done the same thing in her house, when this had started a few days ago. He closed the door and followed her, bemused, as she shoved the thought away. She turned to face him, shoulders back, head held high. "It's over," she told him without reamble. "It's done. You can't hold those pictures over me anymore." He looked at her. "What do you mean? You've decided you can live without your husband? Your daughter?" "No." She drew herself up to her full, if slight, height. "I found your pictures. And the negatives." She allowed herself a smug smile at the look of surprise that crossed his face, and couldn't resist taunting him, "You're not very good at hiding things, are you?" "What do you mean?" He frowned. "How did you get in?" "That doesn't matter. I have some secrets you don't know." Still standing by the door, she watched him, wondering why he wasn't more upset. She'd just claimed her freedom, declared his hold on her broken, and he just stood there. Susan didn't understand, things weren't going like she had thought they would. Then again... she hadn't really known what to expect. "So you come into my house," he chuckled softly. "You little whore." Shaking his head, he walked past her and sat down on the couch. "You have the goods, now you want to end it?" "That's why I'm here, yes." "Are you sure about this?" "I've done my penance. It's over." She walked back to the door. This was too easy... "Good bye, Matt." "I wouldn't go if I were you, Susan," he said in a calm, cold voice, "Stay for a few more minutes." He picked up a remote control from the coffee table. Her hand on the doorknob, she stopped. "I'm not going to believe you if you say you have more pictures," she said, not turning around. "Tom and I weren't outside that long." Matt hit play on the remote. Her voice came over the sound system. "I'm here because you called. Because you want me." A pause. "And because I want you too." "Oh no," she whispered, frozen in place. "Susan, turn around." He turned the sound off again. "I'm very disappointed in you." She leaned her head against the door frame. "After last night I was thinking..." he continued, "You were kind to me..." Slowly she turned around too look at him, silent, eyes wide. "I was going to let it end. I actually felt guilty, after the things I did to you..." She sagged against the door, wincing as her still sore back pressed against the wood. "That you could be kind to me..." He jumped up from the couch, and stalked towards her. "But then you do this?!" He loomed over her, threateningly, but she refused to flinch. What the hell did she have to lose by standing up to him at this point? "What did you expect me to do? Just continue to be your sex slave?" She was angry, not in the least afraid of him in this moment. Last night she had seen him in a moment of weakness, and she felt that gave her an advantage. The thought that it might make him more dangerous didn't cross her mind. "To allow you to continue to call me at all hours? Threaten to take my life away?" "You came into my house, MY house, and went through my things!" "YOU gave me the means to do it!" She poked a finger at his chest That stopped him. "I what?" "Yes. You left your door unlocked." She snorted. "You were lucky. You could have been robbed blind. All I did was take some pictures." "Damn," he muttered, turning away, "I need to slow down on my drinking." "Maybe if you'd cut it out entirely, you could pull your life back together." "I don't need a lecture on temperance from you," he said, walking back to the couch and sitting down again. "And while you did take my second most prized possessions-" "Ill- gotten," she interrupted. "You missed my pride and joy." "Apparently," she sighed. He turned up the volume and the sound of her screams as he beat her filled the room. If he turned it much higher, the neighbors might hear, her husband might hear! "So." He let the volume rise a little more, and then there was silence when he hit the mute button. He turned back to look at her. She stood there in the hall, head down. Her shoulders, held so proudly when she came in, slumped in defeat. The victory she sought turned to ashes. "You didn't know I was going to let you go," he told her, walking over to her again, "So I will forgive the intrusion." She waited for the other shoe to drop, knowing there would be one... and a fleeting though of arson crossed her mind. "But this does change the picture," he went on, reaching out to stroke her face. "Susan, I like you, I don't want to lose you. Yet." Pushing away from the wall with a deep breath, she looked at him. "Now what?" He turned and walked back into the living room. "Strip," he said casually, as he sat back down on the couch, pushing the coffee table away with his foot. "You look awfully stuffy in that outfit." "Strip?" She followed him out of the hall, but stopped just inside the room. The sound clicked on again, her moans as she approached orgasm filled the air. She shook, with fear and with impotent anger, and said, "Fine. Just turn that down." He clicked the sound off again. "Yes.... show me that lovely body again." She stood there in the other side of the room, and shrugged off her jacket. He motioned her closer, and glared at her when she didn't move. Dropping her jacket, she sighed and moved to stand closer, a few feet away from him. He grinned at her. Moving stiffly she pulled her sweater and turtleneck up over her head and dropped them to the floor. There was nothing sexual about her movements as she kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned her jeans. She pushed them down her legs. He frowned at her. "Susan. I know you can do better than that." Blackmail Ch. 3 "You said strip," she told him as she stepped out of her jeans. She pulled her socks off. "I'm stripping." She faced him in her bra and panties. "Come on now, be the sexy whore you are. Dance for me as you take the rest off." She glared at him. He turned the volume up. She heard her orgasm and his cries. She winced, then nodded. "But if you want me to dance, I need music, not that." Grinning at her from the couch, he silenced the TV again, but left the video running. He pressed another button on the remote, and the jazz she'd heard through the door earlier started again. He gestured for her to come closer again, to stand in front of him, and she closed the distance between them reluctantly. "Dance for me," he said. "Show me what a slut you are." Susan closed her eyes and tried to relax into the music. She started swaying to the soft beat, moving her hips. "Mmmm, yes, get into it... feel it." She tried to shut out his voice, the smell of soured wine, the fact that she was in her underwear, to push away everything except the music... Everything including the fact that this was turning her on. She wanted to just lose herself in the music, to move with it. "Be my slut, Susan, turn me on," he said, slowly sliding his hands up her legs, and then he sat back on the couch, running his eyes over her as she danced. Moving to the music now, she began to run her hands along her body, across her stomach to her hips. He stroked himself through his jeans. Her hands moved up, over her breasts, to her face. She ran her fingers through her hair, lifting it up, then letting it fall down her back again. Matt opened his jeans and pulled out his hardening cock. She turned in her dance and faced away from him for a moment. He admired her ass, one hand reaching over to caress it for a moment before he pulled his sweater off, followed by his tee shirt. Turning back, her eyes still closed, she didn't see him slip his jeans off. She let her hands continue to wander her body. They ran down between her legs, she could feel how wet she'd gotten. Back up again they went. "You're so sexy," he breathed, running his hands up her thighs again, then back down, his cock growing stiffer. She continued her dance, trying to convince herself that nothing else mattered but the music as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra. "Mmmm... yes, show me those tits whore," he said as the straps slid down her arms and she let it fall to the floor. "Let me suck on them, bring them to my mouth." Raising her arms over her head, to give him the best view, she leaned towards him. His hands moved up her body again, but instead of taking the offered nipple into his mouth, he pulled her down and kissed her hungrily. The dance forgotten, she kissed him back, wrapping her arms around him. He kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her willing mouth, his hands on her breasts, cupping, fondling. She moaned into his mouth as he pinched her nipples. She ran her fingers through his hair and he kissed her harder, rolling her nipples between his fingers. She loved it, and hated herself for letting this happen again, but knew that not only was she not going to fight him more tonight, but that she didn't want to. Matt pulled back from the kiss. A little out of breath, she looked at him. "Now the panties, Susan," he whispered a little hoarsely, then a little louder, "We're going to fuck and then, you are going to go home." "Fast or slow?" she breathed in his ear, meaning the panties. "Fast," he replied. No more dancing, no more games tonight. He couldn't wait much longer. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and quickly slipped them down and off. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her onto his lap. She straddled him and he pushed her down on his very ready cock. "Oh yes, ride me, Susan!" All the way in, one stroke, and she gasped, not expecting that. She took a moment to get used to it, then started rocking back and forth on him. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her up and then down again as he thrust upwards. She moved up and down on his cock, her breasts nearly in his face. His hands grabbed at them roughly and squeezed hard as she paused to move in small circles around him, then up and down once more. He brought a breast to his mouth and sucked the nipple hard, rolling the other between his fingers. Her head rocked back and she moaned loudly. Moving a little faster now, she pulled his mouth from her breast and leaned to kiss him. He slid his tongue into her mouth as he slapped her breast. She grunted into his mouth, but didn't cry out. "Fuck me whore," he groaned. He slapped her breast again. She moaned at the pain and kissed him again, deeply, moving faster on him now. Feeling him respond under her, she kissed him harder, wanting him to cum for her, in her. She started to slam herself down on him, as he thrust upwards, burying his cock deep inside her. Over and over she impaled herself on his cock. Leaning back, away from him, she put her hands on his knees behind her. Her pace slowed and she let him watch her fuck him in this new position. He reached for her breasts again and pinched her nipples again, smiling as he enjoyed the view. She sat up on him again, then rose up, almost off his cock, then fell back on him hard with a cry. Again. And again. He broke the kiss and spoke to her in a hoarse whisper, "Now make me cum, little slut." Once more she simply moved up and down on him, faster now, meeting his thrusts. She felt him swell inside her, and heard his breath quicken as he groaned loudly. He fell back against the back of the couch, his hips bucking into her. She felt his cock explode inside her and that sent her over the edge into her own climax. Her own head fell back as she continued to ride him, his cum shooting into her. He grabbed at her breasts, so close to his face once more, and sucked her nipple into his mouth again. His teeth closed around it as she cried out with her orgasm. One final thrust, and his hands fell away from her. She leaned against his chest, catching her breath. It then occurred to her then to wonder if there might not be a camera in here as well. She shuddered at the thought. He cleared his throat, "Susan." She pushed up, her hands on his chest, to look at him, "Matt?" "You need to go now." She nodded, and pulled off of him, his shrinking cock falling out with a soft plop. "Don't try to come here again without my permission." She nodded again, gathering up her clothing, not saying anything. "I was careless once..." He didn't finish the sentence, he didn't need to. She dressed quickly, understanding the unspoken threat. Susan went to the door, not speaking, not looking behind her. Outside, she leaned against the door and fought back tears. She had been so close... so close...