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Blast From The Past Ch. 02

By: HelenGW



Thank you for feedback, both complimentary and constructive, on my previous submissions. It's much appreciated.

*

The next morning Karen wakes up frustrated and unsatisfied. Eight hours of tossing and turning and two failed attempts at masturbating herself to orgasm has left her in a bad mood. Despite the fact that she had spent the rest of the previous day convincing herself that she hated William and everything he had done, a small part of her mind was anxiously counting the seconds until she could come home alone, pull her trusty (if dusty) vibrator out of its hiding place, and get herself off again. Problem was that the only way she had even been close to getting off was when she was thinking of William and the things he had done to her in the parking garage; her sore anus and the faint bruises on the inside of her thighs from where she had been forced to straddle the car are distinct reminders of what she is desperate to convince herself she had not enjoyed. 

Karen showers thoroughly if gently and tries to focus on the home she's planning to show that day. As she washes her hair, however, she can only think about William's fingers in her hair, holding her face still for the urgent thrusts of his cock down her throat. When she bends over to shave her legs she can't help but feel the twinge in her asshole where William had relieved her of her anal virginity; and more than once her eyes drift to her puffy pink pussy lips and picture his voracious mouth on her. 

Karen groans and presses her forehead against the cold tile. If her dependable vibrator hadn't worked, if the candles, mood music, and wine hadn't worked, surely nothing else would. But finally Karen gives in, strokes her cunt with a couple of wet fingers and tweaks her clit a few times. When her nipples are hard and her breath is coming faster, she pulls the showerhead down and switches the setting to pulse, aiming the spray between her legs. It feels good. In fact, it feels amazing. She leans weakly against the wall and uses her free hand to pull her labia apart, aiming the hard blast at her dripping core. Karen bites her lip as the orgasm swells, drills the water at her clit and whimpers as it throbs mercilessly. 

Come on, she thinks frantically. Just... cum. She goes to her old standby of mental images: a handsome man on the beach, maybe a masked intruder fantasy, but always comes back to William, feeling the cold concrete under her knees as she kneels before him and feels his long cock plunder her throat. Her belly clenches and she fast forwards to bending over the car for him, his callused fingers prying her ass cheeks apart, the fat head of his cock splitting her open. 

Karen utters a small cry as the orgasm hovers on the brink, holds the showerhead almost right against her swollen pink flesh, plucks her clit from its hood and rubs frantically, but she can't quite seem to go over the edge. "Please," she whispers, pushing two fingers inside her sopping pussy. "God, please." But it's not happening. She feels the cold tile against her back and the water running cold, she thinks about the time and how she has a house to show and how she's going to be late if she has to meet William...

Eventually Karen gives up and turns off the water, climbing out of the shower even more frustrated and angry than before. This is his fault, she tells herself. He's probably at home jacking off to the very videotapes he's using to blackmail her, and she's stuck in this purgatory between wanting to get off and not wanting to be aroused at all. Well fuck him. She's not going to play his game. Karen Roberts is a respectable realtor, and that's the only role she's going to play today.

When Karen opens the door to the home she's showing an hour later, it's with no small surprise that she finds William on the other side. She was meant to have met him in the parking garage an hour ago and had opted to call his bluff and get on with her life. So much for that idea.

"Going to invite me in, Karen?" William asks with one foot already inside the door.

Karen's mouth opens and closes soundlessly, like a fish. She's got clients arriving in five minutes, there's no time for this. 

"What are you doing here?" she finally utters. 

"I was going to ask you the same thing," William returns, backing her into the wall and firmly closing the door. 

Karen shuts her eyes and breathes in through her nose. He's wearing dark jeans and a leather jacket and smells and feels far too good for a blackmailer. 

"You have to leave," she whispers. "I have people coming. I'll... I'll meet you after. Anywhere you want."

She opens her eyes and sees William's cold smile. "Right here's fine," he says, pulling an old VHS tape from his jacket. "Where's the VCR?" he asks. "Through here?"

Karen scurries after him into the family room, where, sure enough, there's a VCR. Fuck. She watches helplessly as he pops the tape in, hits power, and nineteen year-old Karen Roberts appears naked onscreen in a very compromising shower scene with another young girl and a double-ended dildo. 

"Please turn that off," she pleads, fumbling for the power button, but William snares her wrist in a painfully tight grip and jerks her towards him. 

"I wasn't kidding about the tapes, Karen," he says icily. "Did you think I was kidding?"

Karen forces herself to shake her head, though that, in fact, was exactly what she had been praying for. 

William shoves her away and Karen stumbles into an armchair.

"Bend over," William says so casually that it takes Karen a minute to process the words. 

"What?"

"I'm not going to repeat myself, Karen," he replies. "Bend over the arm of the chair, spread your legs, and lift your skirt."

"But... but there are people..." she tries.

"All the reason to move faster, wouldn't you say?"

Almost as though she's watching this through someone else's eyes, Karen slowly bends over the thick arm of the chair, shuffles her stiletto-clad feet apart a bit, and reluctantly inches up her skirt. Her asshole is still sore from yesterday; hopefully he doesn't stick his—

"Ouch!" Karen shrieks, leaping up a split second after William's heavy hand lands on her backside. "What the hell!"

"I said bend over!" William roars, shoving her back down. Then, forcing himself to retain control and to remember that he's not supposed to get his feelings hurt when the woman he's blackmailing chooses not to show up for their date, he continues in a lower voice, "And I said spread your legs." He watches as Karen's long legs part and swallows thickly before adding, "More. More. Spread them, Karen."

When Karen's feet are far enough apart that he can see her puffy labia on either side of her thong, William raises his hand again and brings it back down firmly on her right ass cheek.

Karen cries out again, but remains bent over the chair. William watches the smooth, taut flesh jiggle slightly, then brings his hand down on the opposite cheek. Karen whimpers and he can see a matching red stain bloom in her face. His cock swells almost instantly and he spanks her again, restraining himself slightly, but still feeling the sting in his palm. 

For her part, Karen has never been spanked and never really wanted to be. Now that she's had the experience, she knows that she doesn't enjoy it. She's read stories where women have felt the pain turn to pleasure, but she just feels humiliated and sore. Her nails bite into the cushion as William continues to spank her, his hand blanketing her ass and the tops of her thighs, careful to stay away from her rapidly dampening pussy. 

A loud knock on the front door brings them both out of their haze and William pauses in his spanking long enough to unzip his pants and pull out his throbbing erection. 

"Go answer it," he orders, and Karen straightens hastily, wincing as she shimmies her skirt back down over her hips. She's taken three steps toward the front door before she realizes that William is exposing himself. He sits in the chair she had been bent over and spreads his knees casually. 

"Are you just going to sit there?" she whispers frantically. 

"Why don't you tell them you're with a customer," William suggests, "and you'll let them in when we're done?"

Karen considers arguing, but instead totters to the front door on shaky legs and plasters on a smile as she tells her prospective home buyers that she just needs a few more minutes, and would they mind looking around outside while she wraps up in here? The young couple agrees and Karen stalks back into the family room. 

"What the hell?" she asks as self-righteously as she can. 

"Get over here," William orders, "and suck my cock."

For the second time Karen is speechless, and then remembering the couple outside, gets on her knees before William, feels him thread his calloused fingers through her hair, and takes his thick cock in her mouth. 

William's breath comes out in a shudder and he tips his head back and gazes at the ceiling as he relives his long-held fantasy for the second time in as many days. Karen's plush lips work magic on his throbbing cock and he's determined to hold off as long as he possibly can. Eventually he applies more pressure to the back of her skull, forcing her to take him deeper, and she gags a little as the position doesn't make it easy. He pulls tighter on her hair, enough to make it hurt, and Karen whimpers. William wants her to hurt a little. He waited in that parking garage for half an hour before admitting that she simply wasn't going to show, and now he wants revenge. 

He pulls her hair back so he can better see her mouth stretched around his dick and uses his hands to move her head a little faster. He can feel the orgasm building and hears the steady slurp as she sucks him again and again. Finally he can't hold off any longer and explodes in her mouth with a guttural moan, almost forgetting to tell her to hold the cum in her mouth. 

Karen slowly stands as William does up his pants and rises. 

"Open your mouth," he says in a low voice, and Karen parts her red lips to reveal the creamy mass on her tongue. William puts one thick finger in her mouth, scoops some out, and smears it on her lips. "Swallow," he whispers, entranced as her throat moves and the mass disappears. "Now lick your lips."

Hesitantly she does so, her pink tongue collecting every drop. 

They stand close and stare at each other for a moment until Karen takes a stabilizing breath. "You should go out the back door," she says. "I'll tell them... I don't know. You're a home inspector or something."

"You know," William says, straightening his jacket, "I think I'll stay."

Karen's perfectly arched brows raise. "What?"

William smiles. "You heard me. Go let them in."

Karen hesitates then turns off the TV and snatches the tape from the VCR. William takes it from her and tucks it back into his jacket, then trails Karen to the front door to let in the young couple. He pretends that he's also interested in the home and follows the three around, entranced as Karen transforms. He could smell her moist pussy as he spanked her and knows in his heart that she likes being dominated to some extent, but here, at work, she's the boss and everyone knows it. And that starts his cock swelling all over again. 

More than once during the tour William notices Karen shifting uncomfortably and smirks at her when the young couple is looking away. Karen gives William cold looks, but is secretly trying to ignore the trickle of sweat down her spine and the rapid pulsing between her thighs. Her thong is soaked and uncomfortable, her nipples straining almost painfully against the expensive lace bra, and it's an effort to keep her breathing steady. Like it or not, she wants him to fuck her. Now. 

In the last room of the house Karen turns to the young couple and smiles. "Would you guys like a few minutes alone to look around and discuss things?"

They would, so Karen and William leave and head down to the main level. Alone, Karen whirls around, ready to tell William to either buy the house or go home, but he has other plans and shoves her into the guest bathroom and locks the door behind them. 

"What are you doing?" Karen hisses. 

"How's your pussy?" William asks, pressing her into the wall with his broad chest, one hand shackling her hands above her head, the other hiking up her skirt then covering her steaming cunt. 

"Oh God," Karen mumbles, trying to fight a losing battle. 

A click and a low whirring noise has her eyes flying open and settling on the modest-sized dildo vibrating in William's hand. "Thought that might get your attention," he smiles, placing the head of the dildo at her dripping core and slowly pressing it in. 

Karen's legs tremble violently and she tries to work up the strength to argue, but the failed attempts at orgasm all last night and again this morning have her desperate for this. It's been more than a year since she last had sex -- at least not forced anal sex -- and though the dildo isn't anything to run from, it's still a tight fit and William has to work to get it in. Once it is in, however, he turns up the vibrations and begins to give Karen a thorough fucking. 

Karen writhes against the wall, plump lower lip caught between her teeth, eyes closed as she pictures this moment, recalls the day before, the scenes on the videotape, the man in front of her, and her inner walls clench tighter and tighter until she feels like she's going to implode, if he would just hit her clit a little bit harder and aim the dildo...

Then suddenly it's gone. The vibrations are switched off and Karen's propped weakly against the wall, knees splayed wide, William's face mere inches from her own when her eyes fly open. 

"Wha- What are you doing?" she stammers. 

"Feel good?" William asks. 

Oh God, Karen thinks. Please don't let him make me ask for it. 

"Yes," she whispers. 

"Open your mouth," William orders. Karen's lips part uncertainly, then firmly clamp shut when William raises the dildo to them. "Open," he repeats. Karen shakes her head, and William runs the tip of the slick, shiny dildo over her sealed lips. "If I have to repeat myself," he warns, "you will be very, very sorry."

It's too disgusting, Karen thinks. On the rare occasions she blew her ex-husband, it was never after he had fucked her. Some things are strictly off limits. 

But William has other plans and he uses his strong fingers to pry her jaw apart and force the tip of the dildo between her teeth. Karen bites down to prevent it from going any further, and William presses a knee roughly between her legs, making her groan. 

"Scream," he whispers. "Call that young couple down here to see you with your legs spread and your cunt red and swollen and I'll show them the videotape and we'll see where it goes from there."

Tears well up in Karen's eyes as he grinds his knee painfully against her drenched flesh. 

Finally she opens her mouth and he feeds the dildo inside so she's tasting her own juices, closing her eyes and sucking the dildo clean, pretending she's doing anything but this. With the dildo still in her mouth William lowers one hand and presses two thick fingers inside her tightly clenched pussy. She's swollen and it's a tight fit, but he easily finds the wrinkled patch of skin he's searching for and rubs lightly at first, then harder. 

Karen groans loudly as the pressure between her legs builds so high and so quickly that she thinks she's going to explode all over his hand. William stimulates her g-spot perfectly and she's never had this kind of orgasm before, never been this wet, and his fingers are positively dripping with her juice. 

Then again, before she can cum, he pulls his hand away, takes the dildo from her mouth, and turns to wash both it and his hands in the sink. 

"What are you doing?" Karen whispers, stunned. 

"What does it look like?" William asks calmly. 

What it doesn't look like is that she's going to have a much-anticipated toe curling orgasm, and Karen's cunt throbs frantically with a need she's slowly beginning to admit that only William can meet. 

"Please," she mumbles, and William raises his eyes to the mirror to meet her gaze. 

"What did you say?" he asks. 

Karen forces herself to hold the stare. "I said 'Please'," she repeats. 

William's heart is beating double time. Her cunt is so hot and tight that he wants nothing more than to lay her down, tie her legs apart, and shove his whole fist inside her. Feed on every bit of that perfect body until she's out of his system and this dangerous, crazy obsession is put out of its misery. But he's still mad about their earlier missed meeting, and is having trouble making a decision. 

"Ms. Roberts?" calls the young couple from another part of the house. 

Karen is jolted out of her lust-filled daze and grabs some tissue to tidy herself as best she can before straightening her thong and suit. She reapplies her lipstick then washes her hands, striding out of the bathroom as though nothing had happened. 

She finds the young couple in the foyer, answers their questions, then watches them leave. Her heart pounds in her throat and she knows William is behind her even before she turns. 

"Why?" she asks. It could apply to so many questions that William doesn't know how to answer. 

"How's your asshole?" he says instead. 

Karen blushes and strides past him to collect her purse. 

William follows and grips her arm tightly. She ignored him this morning, and that was enough. "I'll just check for myself then, shall I?"

For the third time that morning Karen finds her skirt hiked up in a stranger's house. William slides his hand between her smooth ass cheeks and seeks out her asshole, pressing one finger firmly inside. He sees Karen wince and thrusts a few times, enjoying the fleeting pain on her face. 

"Come on," he says in a rough voice. "Upstairs."

"Wh-what?"

William spins her around. "No more questions," he snaps. "You'll figure it out soon enough."

They enter the neatly appointed master bedroom and William tells Karen to lie on her back on the bed. She scrambles on top of the designer duvet and sends up a mental prayer that it's in the same pristine condition when they're done. William grips her hips and tugs her to end of the bed where he slides her sopping thong down her legs and drops it on the floor. 

"Did you enjoy tasting your pussy?" he asks, absently trailing two fingers through the puffy pink folds. 

Karen shakes her head mutely. 

"Did you enjoy it when I did it?" William continues. 

Karen doesn't want to have to say those words again, so she simply answers, "Yes," hoping that satisfies him. 

"Good," William smiles. "Me too."

Karen's eyes drift closed as his calloused fingers trace up and down her inner thighs, spreading her copious juices over the sensitive skin but never quite venturing where she desperately wants them. 

She hears his zipper lower and the rustle of pants falling and her eyes fly open as the mattress on either side of her head dips down. For the first time in her life, there is a man straddling Karen's face, his erection poised like a spear over her mouth. Her lips part to argue, surely he'll choke her if he puts that thing—

And then he's slipping between her teeth, her red lips wrapping invitingly around his throbbing cock, and William kneels so they're in a 69 position, his mouth hovering over her inviting pussy. But his lips never touch her, even as he makes a point of blowing on her clit, of holding her hips down when she thrusts them eagerly up to his face. He, of course, has no idea of Karen's masturbation difficulties, but does want to make Karen appreciate the orgasm she had yesterday and recognize that such an occurrence is not necessarily a guarantee during their little blackmail fucks. 


Blast From The Past Ch. 02



Karen focuses on not gagging as William forces his way down her throat, embarrassed by the gurgling and slurping sounds she can't help but make, and splays her knees wide so William can't possibly mistake her invitation. And while William is taking pains to keep her thighs spread and her cunt open, he's not doing anything to satisfy the frantic throbbing between her legs. 

Soon he's fucking her face so hard that Karen thinks she'll pass out, and just when she's sure he's about to cum, he pulls away, his breath coming out in audible gasps that match her own. 

"Please fuck me," she whispers, blushing at the words. 

"No problem," William says, pushing his hair back and climbing off the bed to stand between her open legs. 

Karen watches with something akin to disbelieving horror as he pulls the familiar bottle of lube from his pocket, covers his dick with it, and positions himself at her tender pink asshole. 

"No," Karen utters as he begins pushing in. 

With the first two inches inside her ass, William stops. 

"What?"

"My..." Karen begins, wincing as the sore flesh stretches to accommodate his impossibly large cock, "Please fuck my... pussy. That hurts. I'm too sore."

In response, William pulls out completely and with an audible popping sound. Karen's about to sigh in relief when he presses the head of his pulsing cock against her tiny asshole again. 

"If you'd shown up this morning as agreed," William says neutrally, "I might have taken your feelings into consideration. I might have thought about not fucking your ass, given the fact that your asshole is a little on the red side today. But you didn't turn up this morning, did you?"

Karen inhales audibly and shakes her head no. 

"That said," William continues, "I'm not going to fuck you if you say no. But if I do fuck you, my cock is going up your ass, no matter how uncomfortable you might find it. It's your choice, Karen. But remember: if I don't fuck you today, every one you know is going to get a copy of your splendid shower scene. Now which do you think will hurt more?"

Karen closes her eyes and mumbles something that sounds like "Motherfucker."

William fights to keep a straight face. 

"Which is it, Karen?" He nudges her sore asshole with his cock, desperate to shove himself balls deep in one rough thrust. "Tell me what you want."

Karen's fingers knot in the bedspread and she struggles to still her pounding heart. Her ass was sore before he spanked her. But... despite her predicament, her pussy seems completely disconnected from the blackmail end of things and is desperate to participate in any activity that satisfies the ache that hasn't gone away all day. 

"Please..." Karen begins, fighting to keep the tremor out of her voice, "please... fuck my ass."

"Fuck your ass?" William repeats. "Are you sure?"

Karen makes herself nod.

"What if it hurts?" William prods. "Should I keep going?"

Karen nods again.

"What if you cry out?" he asks, beginning to press inside the tightly clenched star. "Should I fuck your ass even if you scream?"

Karen's clit throbs mercilessly at the words, and William pulls the hood back to expose the slippery nub. 

"Yes," Karen whispers, and William gives in and shoves his dick in to the hilt.

Karen does scream, and William clamps a hand over her mouth, breath coming out in frantic gasps as he feels her ass clench so tightly around his cock that he fears it may break off. Karen falls silent and after a moment William rears his hips back and sinks into her again. A strangled cry comes out of Karen's throat and William turns her face to his so they're only inches apart. 

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks.

Karen shakes her head no. She looks so torn and so broken that he wants to wrap his arms around her and call the whole thing off. But somewhere in the depths of her eyes is a woman too stubborn to admit she's getting off on this, and so he carries on fucking her ass.

At some point Karen's phone rings and they pause to look at it lying on the bed by her purse. 

"Get it," William suggests after a moment, cock still buried in her asshole.

"What?" Karen asks, shocked. The pain has abated, but she's in no position to take a phone call. William seems to disagree, however, and reaches over, flips on the phone, and presses it to her ear. Karen glares at him before saying, "Karen Roberts here. Oh, hello again." It's the couple she had just said goodbye to, calling with a few more questions about the house. William continues his assfuck as Karen struggles to concentrate on the call. 

His thrusts are growing harder and deeper and his breath comes in uneven pants. He positionss his hands under Karen's knees and presses them back into her chest, watching his cock split her apart with each plunge. 

Karen whimpers and bites her lip, trying desperately to maintain the conversation and failing. Eventually she feigns a bad connection and hangs up, gripping William's broad biceps with her hands and begging him with her eyes to finish. 

He couldn't have held off much longer if he'd wanted to, and soon William plants himself deep in her tight ass and explodes. He stays buried inside her until every last drop has been milked from his cock, then slowly pulls out. Karen whimpers with relief and, in a move neither of them could have anticipated, William pulls a couple of tissues from the nightstand and helps to clean up the cum that's escaping her slightly gaping ass.

Then he tosses the tissues in the wastebasket and puts his pants back on. Karen frowns, confused. "Where are you going?" she asks.

William glances at her. "Home," he answers. 

Karen blinks, uncomprehending. Her clit feels like it's the size of a plum, ready to burst if he would just wrap his lips around it or put his tongue or his fingers back inside her, touching her like he had in the bathroom. But William seems to have no such plan.

"What..." she begins tentatively, "What about me?"

William's brows raise. "What about you?" he echoes. "What about you?"

"Yes."

"Remember this morning," he reminds her, "when we were supposed to meet in the parking garage, but you didn't show?"

Karen nods, legs still spread wide even as her hope fades. 

"Well," William continues, quite proud of himself for coming up with this line of reasoning, "you didn't come then, so I don't see why you should cum now."

Goosebumps spring up over Karen's body at the cold words. He's not joking. She's won't walk straight for days, and he's not going to make it worth her while. The ache in her pussy that had her tossing and turning all night is not going to be eased. 

"B-but," Karen stammers, "but I..."

William reaches into his jacket and pulls out the videotape, tossing it carelessly onto the bed beside her. 

"See you tomorrow," he says, then strides out of the room.



Blast From The Past Ch. 03



Karen wakes up the next day with considerably more discomfort than the previous morning, but slightly less frustration. Instead of giving into her masturbatory urges and trying to give herself the orgasm William had refused her, she had taken a cold shower (okay, two), swallowed a sleeping pill, and gone to bed. Now she shuffles to the bathroom to brush her teeth, careful to avoid her own reflection, and climbs carefully into the shower. Her anus hurts and her pussy is swollen, her breasts feel tender and the back of her thighs sting where William had spanked her, yet she, Karen Roberts, is the one who feels guilty. Guilty! Karen wonders if this is a Patty Hearst-type of situation. Maybe she's empathizing with her captor... She groans as the cold spray hits her in the face and she forces herself not to think of sex or William or the unaccustomed ache between her thighs. 

When Karen eventually steps out of the ice-cold shower she half-expects to see William waiting in her bedroom, or in her kitchen, or even at her car, but he's none of those places. In fact, even as she drives to work and shuts the door to her office, she finds that the dread she should expect to be feeling in this situation is conspicuously absent. Because while her body bears the reminders of yesterday's rough use, her libido has a mind of its own, and wants, well, more. 

She tries to justify this yearning, to tell herself that a woman reaches her sexual peak later in life, or that perhaps this is just a phase, but the truth she's denying is that for someone so control in every aspect of her own life, it's rather freeing to give the responsibility of her orgasms to someone who clearly knows how to give them. And she wants one now. Even sitting in the air conditioned offices Karen can feel a bead of sweat trickling down her nape. But Karen is not hot; she's worried. Because yesterday when William left, he had not told her where to meet the next day. And he hasn't contacted her yet today to indicate a meeting time or place. She made a quick detour on her way in this morning to find the parking garage completely empty, and intends to catch up on paperwork all day, meaning there will be no opportunities to meet in vacant houses. So Karen is waiting.

And still waiting. 

And still more.

And when she gets home shortly after seven that evening, she finds that she'll have to continue waiting, because her house is dark and empty and her phone is silent. William, it would seem, is not coming.

For William's part, he is at home replaying the events of the past two days over and over in his mind. He cannot come to terms with his feelings for nor his treatment of Karen Roberts, his lifelong fantasy. He wants her, and he knows he can get her off, no matter how she denies it. He likes to be in control and he likes to dominate, but last night as he fucked her sore ass and looked into her desperate eyes, he felt something in his chest that did not fit with his fantasies. He cannot treat a woman the way he wants to treat Karen -- cannot humiliate her and blackmail her and torment her sexually -- if he feels anything more than the blood pounding through his own veins and the painful stiffness of his cock. So William stays home. And he thinks. And he decides that he's not going to do it anymore, that he's going to return the tapes and never contact Karen again. 

But in the morning he changes his mind. 

Karen is sitting behind the large desk in her air conditioned office when the receptionist buzzes in that she has a visitor. Because she has no appointments scheduled for today, she is puzzled. And then she is worried. And then she is aroused. She tells the receptionist to show her visitor in, and when the door opens moments later her heart stutters when she sees William stride through.

"Good morning," she says politely, rising and extending her hand for him to shake. Before leaving the receptionist mentions that she's heading out for her break, then closes the door behind her as she goes. William does not release Karen's damp hand. She swallows thickly, the sound dissolved in the suddenly deafening silence.

With his free hand William reaches inside his brown leather jacket and pulls out a tape. He places it wordlessly on the desk, his eyes locked on Karen's. He waits, and after a long moment, she gives the slightest of nods. William drops her hand and is around the desk in two quick steps. He uses his broad chest to back Karen into the wall, his face close to hers as his calloused fingers find the hem of her skirt and bring it up over her hips. He stares into her eyes as one hot hand cups her pussy through the flimsy satin of her panties and he presses lightly with his middle finger so he's circling the tight entrance to her body. 

Karen chews the inside of her lip and tries to find the will to look away, but cannot. Even as she wills herself to put an end to this she finds her cunt moistening rapidly enough that the smell soon reaches her nose. She whimpers slightly but William only continues to cup her, to penetrate her through her panties with the very tips of his fingers in a gentle, rhythmic motion. 

Eventually her eyes close and her head lolls back. The action is relaxed but below the neck she is anything but calm; her body is tensed and curled in anticipation. 

"Spread your legs," William whispers, breath hot against her ear. Karen shifts her legs a few more inches in either direction, thigh muscles straining. William risks a glance down at the shiny black peep-toed stilettos she wears, gaze trailing up the smooth expanse of thigh to the junction covered by his hand. He presses his palm against her more firmly, feeling the tiny bulge of her protruding clit and smirking as he elicits a groan from her. 

"Did you cum yesterday?" he asks. Karen's eyes flutter open and lock on his. After a second she shakes her head. 

"No?" William whispers. "How about the night before, when you went home? After I fucked your tight ass in a stranger's bed, did you go home and rub your clit and finger yourself until you exploded?"

His words match his actions and Karen's answer is lost in a strangled moan as two rough fingers sink inside her wet cunt and begin a deep, gentle fucking motion. 

"Did you?" William urges. "Did you get yourself off?" His free hand joins the first between her legs, this time slipping behind the slick satin to tease her clit from its hiding place, plucking it mercilessly between his thumb and index finger. 

"No," Karen hisses, feeling her inner muscles clench. She can feel the roughness of his jeans against her inner thighs, smell his leather jacket and his own male scent, feel the slight rasp of his day-old growth on her cheek when he whispers in her ear.  

"How does this feel?" William prods, pressing a third digit into the drenched depths of her cunt. "Do you like this? Does it make you feel good?" His thumb settles on her clit and begins to rub firmly. 

"Yes," Karen whimpers, her hips grinding against his skilled hands. 

"How good?" he presses.

Karen moans as her orgasm nears. Her inner walls spasm, briefly stilling his fingers so he has to press even harder to continue to penetrate her. 

"Karen?"

She humps his hand, head twisted to the side to avoid his prying gaze. 

"Do you want to cum, Karen?" William asks, seizing her swollen clit in the vee of two fingers and tugging at it insistently. Karen utters a startled cry as her impending orgasm heightens, juices drenching William's hands. 

"Answer me," he warns. He watches a tiny trickle of sweat slide down Karen's temple, settling below her ear. Her pearly teeth bite into her plush lower lip, creasing her lipstick, and her cheeks flush a rosy red. 

William's three thick fingers fuck into her steadily, sloshing slightly in her copious juices and the entire room smells like her sex. 

"Answer," he says, one last time. "Tell me you want to cum."

Karen's knees tremble as she approaches her long-awaited climax. 

"Tell me!" William roars.

Karen's lush lips part, but no sound emerges as she feels the build up reach its crescendo and... 

William's palm lands heavily on her weeping cunt, a loud crack filling the room. 

"Ahh!" Karen cries, knees slamming together painfully as her eyes fly open and she drops her hands between her legs. Her ankles give way and she falls to the floor, eyes flashing up to William's as he denies her yet again. The slap to her pussy hurt but she's still close, she can still get there...

William watches as Karen's hands sink between her legs, rubbing frantically. 

"You ask me when you want to come!" he hisses violently, snatching her hands away from her, well, snatch. 

"No!" Karen hisses back. "I'm not asking! You can't do this twice! You can't—"

William flips her easily onto her stomach, one knee in her back, and brings his palm down hard on her exposed backside. The smack rings through the office and Karen's heeled feet kick up, unable to reach him. He spanks her again and again, forcing her thighs apart until her pussy is split neatly by her soaked panties, and he spanks closer and closer to that seeping core. 

"Stop it!" Karen screeches, writhing beneath him. She doesn't know if she wants him gone or if she wants him to use her however he sees fit, but she does know that she wants to cum and being spanked is not turning her on. 

When William releases her they are both breathing hard. Karen rolls onto her back and sits up, using her feet to push herself away from William, whose eyes zero in on her splayed cunt, the juices shining on her inner thighs. Karen clamps her legs tightly together. 

They stare at each other for a long time. "Get out," she finally whispers.

William slowly rises. He collects the tape from the top of the desk and heads for the door.

Karen's voice halts him. "Where are you going with that?" she demands.

"You didn't do your part," he reminds her. "I'm going to make copies and send it to a few people we have in common."

"We have nothing in common," Karen snaps.

"No?" William replies. "A couple of good ass fucks, a catalogue of lesbian porn, and the knowledge that you like being used isn't much, is it? But it's more than most people have."

He turns again for the door. Behind him he can hear Karen rising, her suit rasping against the wall as she props herself up on weak legs. 

"Why?" she whispers.

"You like it," he replies softly, turning to face her. She hasn't adjusted her skirt; it's still hiked up over her hips, exposing the purple satin thong, now stained dark with her juices. 

Karen doesn't answer. She doesn't want to agree.

"Do you want to continue?" William asks.

Karen glares up at him through lowered lashes, cheeks flushed in anger and arousal. Her blonde hair has come free of its chignon; it spills over her shoulders and she looks like the wanton sex goddess of his dreams.

"I'll let you cum," William concedes. "When I'm ready. I promise. Now lie back on the floor, knees to your chest, legs spread."

Karen stops breathing at the command. She'd be lying there like a flipped turtle, her pussy and anus free for his intrusion. 

"Should I go, Karen?" William asks. Somehow the use of her name spurs her into action and Karen drops hastily to the floor, assuming the position, eyes firmly shut against his penetrating gaze.

William drops to his knees between her spread legs, the scent of her sopping pussy invading his nostrils. He unerringly finds her hardened clit behind her panties and presses the material hard against it so it sticks out through the purple satin. 

"Ask me to get you off, Karen," he orders. 

Karen doesn't allow herself to think about it. "Please get me off," she echoes. 

"Good girl," William murmurs, lowering his head to lap at her stiff clitoris through her panties. Karen groans and thrusts her hips up for his attention, but he shifts his focus and instead sucks on her labia, puffing out on either side of the wet fabric. 

"Take your panties off," he orders, pulling his head back. Karen hooks her thumbs on either side of her hips and slides the soaked underwear down her legs. 

"You smell amazing," William tells her, lowering his face and plunging his tongue inside her clasping cunt. "Taste amazing. Feel amazing."

Karen folds her fingers in his hair, holding his face still for her thrusting. After a minute he pries her hands away, holding them in one of his broad fists, and, looming above her, gaze locked on her face, begins rubbing her pussy with something hard and cool. Karen doesn't know what it is; it doesn't vibrate and it's hard and oddly shaped, so just the tip of it presses into her cunt before becoming too broad to penetrate further. William rubs at first gently and then harder through her weeping gash, shifting the object slightly so it's pressed lengthwise against her slit, and finally Karen realizes: it's the videotape. He's masturbating her with her own pornographic efforts. 

"You can cum, Karen," William whispers, watching her face.

She explodes, wrenching one hand from his grip to muffle her cries. Her cunt spasms uncontrollably, fluids spray from her splayed pussy, her hips buck frantically. William watches as she arches helplessly, heels stamping down on the floor, thigh muscles shivering with exertion. It seems to go on forever, and when the strongest waves have finally passed, Karen's hips sink back down to the floor and she tries to bring her knees together. William, of course, presses them apart so he can admire the drenched pink folds of her vagina, and run his fingers through her swollen slit. 

"What do you say?" he asks softly. 

Karen looks at him, eyes glazed, but still stubborn. What she finds in his gaze stifles whatever retort she had planned on and instead she blinks reluctantly and says, "Thank you."

To both of their surprise, William leans forward and kisses her. He brackets her face between his arms, the rough bulge of denim at his crotch pressing into her wet pussy, and kisses her. Thoroughly. Weakened though she is, Karen is startled by the quality of the kiss. It's really not bad... for a blackmailer. As though sensing Karen's surprise, William pulls back slightly. For a second there, he had almost allowed himself to feel something more than whatever it was he should be feeling. He licks his lips quickly, the taste of Karen's lipstick lingering, and his eyes drift down her body. He swiftly undoes the buttons of her blouse, exposing the lacy bra that serves up her swollen breasts. A quick flick and the bra is gone and for a moment he just watches her chest rise and fall. He lowers his head and pulls one tight nipple between his lips, pressing it to the roof of his mouth with his tongue. Karen arches off the floor, offering him more, asking for more, and he nips lightly with his teeth. His cock is so hard it hurts and he reaches down to unzip his jeans, freeing himself with a sharp, relieved breath. 

Karen offers a helping hand, her cool fist enveloping his cock, but he swats her hand away. He'll come too quickly as it is, and he wants her writhing again. Wants her to ask for it, the way she does on the tapes, the way he likes her to say it. Like she means it. 

Because she's so primed already, it doesn't take long before Karen's cunt is leaking fluids anew, wetting the floor below her, trickling down into the crack of her ass, making her squirm. William kisses his way down her taut stomach, over the skirt bunched at her waist, and licks the cooling juices from her thighs. 

"William," she gasps. "William."

"Did you need something?" he murmurs, not looking up. Karen strains her neck to see him crouched between her thighs, head bobbing slightly as he licks her everywhere but where she really wants him. 

"Ugh," she groans, frustrated. Her head falls back and she props herself on her elbows, unconsciously thrusting her tits upward, red nipples rising tantalizingly toward the ceiling. William uses one hand to tweak the tender buds as he lightly bites down on Karen's inner thigh. She cries out, startled, but he doesn't make it hurt, and the combination of pinching and biting makes her stomach clench. 

"Show me what you want," William orders softly. 

Karen hesitantly lowers one hand between her legs, dipping her middle finger into her weeping core and sliding it up through her folds until she finds her clit. She tugs the hood back, exposing the sensitive bundle of nerves, and pauses. 

"Here," she whispers, embarrassed. "Lick me here."

William looks up so their eyes meet. 

"Please," Karen adds. "Please lick me here. William."

Eyes still fastened to hers, William lowers his head. His tongue flicks out and he lashes, once, twice, at the throbbing nub. 

Karen's head falls back and her eyes close. But that's it. He stops and waits until she looks at him again.

"What else?" he asks.

Karen has to fight not to cry with frustration. She simply can't say the words he wants to hear. Her pussy clenches around nothing and she aches in a way she hasn't felt in far too long. 

"Fuck me," she utters quietly. "Please."

Oh so slowly William rises over her, jeans around his knees, his cock so hard it's positively painful, and nestles the leaking tip at her entrance. His elbows rest on the floor next to her ears and he looks into her liquid blue eyes, surrounded by the golden wash of her hair. 

"Again," he says.

"Please fuck me," Karen whispers.

"Again," he says.

"Please fuck me," Karen repeats. "William. William. William."

With each murmur of his name William presses his thick cock into her heated depths, her pussy welcoming him with greedy clasps, sucking him deep inside. His face contorts with something akin to pain and Karen bites her lower lip as he sinks to the furthest reaches of her pussy. When he can't possibly be any deeper inside her he begins to pull back reluctantly, her cunt clamping down tightly to prevent his escape. William's breath hisses out and he thrusts back in harder than intended. Karen cries out, but not in pain. 

"Say it," William orders. 

"Fuck me," Karen says. 

And he does.

William rams himself home, the indecisive frustration of the past twenty-four hours erased as he pounds into her. Finally, he thinks. Finally, finally, finally. Karen's panting breaths penetrate the lust-fuelled haze surrounding his brain and he opens his eyes to focus on her face. Her eyes are closed, arched brows pulled tight in concentration, and he smiles to himself, watching her cheeks flush with pleasure only he can provide. Sweat drips off his brow and lands in her hair and the smacking sounds of their fucking ring through the room. 

Karen spreads her legs wide, knees pulled up as high as possible to allow William complete access to her body. His pubic bone crushes her clit with every thrust and the fat head of his cock presses her g-spot with each passing. The muscles that were lax and weak just a short time ago are once again tense and primed in anticipation. Her hips meet his pounding thrusts and she reaches her hands over her head, breasts straining upward. Her nipples rasp along his shirt and he raises a hand to pluck at one turgid tip before sucking it roughly into his mouth. The sensations build, the sounds and smells of sex arousing Karen as never before and when she open her eyes she finds William's gaze locked intently on hers. It's only a split-second, but they both freeze. There's a moment of connection that goes beyond blackmailer and victim and it's too much. 

With one swift movement William pulls out and flips Karen onto her stomach. She lifts her hips and he fits the gleaming head of his cock against her clenching pussy and pushes back inside, not stopping until there's nowhere left for him to go. Karen turns her face to the side, eyes closed, feeling his thrusts increase in pace and momentum until they're almost too brutal to take.




Blast From The Past Ch. 03



"William," she gasps, the word half-muffled by the carpet under her cheek.

William watches the fine line of sweat tracing her hairline and trickling down her neck. He holds her hips and pounds into her mercilessly.

"William!" Karen cries. The orgasm is on the brink but his bruising thrusts are threatening to overwhelm the pleasure. 

He closes his eyes, willing himself to drown out her cries, but it doesn't work. When they reopen his gaze falls on the still-wet videotape lying discarded under the desk. Without missing a beat he swipes two fingers through Karen's dripping cunt and presses them firmly against the dark, puckered star winking out at him from between her firm ass cheeks.

There's a strangled noise from the floor in front of him but he ignores it, forcing his fingers inexorably into her ass until they pass the second knuckle. Karen struggles to her knees, ostensibly offering him her ass, offering him everything. She wants it to go on forever and she wants it to be over. It hurts but it feels too good. It's too much and it's not nearly enough. William continues to finger fuck her ass in time with his thrusts into the throbbing depths of her cunt and finally it all becomes more than she can bear and Karen cries out as she climaxes. 

William buries his two fingers deep in her ass, flexing them wide and watching the delicate flesh strain against the invasion. And finally he cums, the orgasm wrenched out of him, so intense that he can feel it in every inch of his spine, his thighs, his chest. Karen's pussy welcomes the invasion, sucks him dry, milks him for every last drop of cum. 

When it's over he remains hunched above her prone figure, heart pounding. Sweat dampens the blond hair at his forehead and drips onto Karen's back, leaving small dark marks on her pink shirt. He connects the marks with his fingers, and Karen moans as though awakened from a deep slumber. 

"You alright?" William asks roughly. He pulls away reluctantly, watching as her body releases him.

She nods without opening her eyes, cheek pressed to the carpet. He tugs her skirt down over her hips in a very belated gesture of modesty, and rises, pulling up and fastening his jeans. He finds a tissue on the desk to mop the sweat from his face, watching impassively as Karen collects herself and rises on shaky legs. She swipes uselessly at her hair and after a moment their eyes meet and they stare at each other. 

William hesitates before stepping forward and knocking Karen's trembling fingers away from her blouse. She'd been trying to force the buttons into the right holes, but with no success. He swiftly fixes the shirt and steps back.

"Thank you," Karen says.

It can be interpreted several ways, and William chooses his favourite.

"Any time," he promises. Then he goes.



Blast From The Past Ch. 04



Though her confident stride masks it, Karen has butterflies in her stomach as she strides through the gleaming hotel lobby the next night. The hotel is upscale; the crystal chandelier dangling overhead casts specks of silver over the wealthy clientele. There are men in tuxedos and women in expensive designer clothes. Karen is one of those women, though her black business suit and seven hundred dollar strappy high heels cover considerably less tasteful underwear. 

She heads directly to the bank of elevators and avoids her gaze in the shiny gold doors as she waits for one to arrive. Two middle-aged businessmen in well-tailored suits wait next to her murmuring about stocks and bonds and other subjects that Karen would normally find interesting. But not tonight. Nothing had been interesting since ten o'clock that morning. Nothing had tasted right or felt right and Karen had taken the afternoon off in an effort to hide her anxiety from her staff. 

At ten o'clock that morning a courier had dropped off an elegantly wrapped package. Karen had not recognized the handwriting and even now she took a moment to send up a tiny thanks that she had opened the package in the privacy of her office and not in the reception room with an audience. The flat white box had contained a mound of tissue paper, scraps of black satin and lace she supposed could be called lingerie, and a key card with a distinguished hotel logo. Perhaps she was over-reacting - it's not as though the box had contained body parts. But Karen's heart had started pounding and her pulse had not slowed in the twelve hours since. 

So now, shortly after ten o'clock that same evening, she finds herself stepping into the pristine elevator with gracious company and not a respectable thought in her head. Though she knows the situation is wrong - she's being blackmailed for sex, after all - she can't help but feel a little turned on. Okay, that's a lie. Karen is desperately, painfully aroused, and terribly ashamed of it. The past four days had shown her that her libido was not dead, after all, though Karen is sufficiently modern not to be bothered by this fact. What bothers her is that she's experiencing things with William that she has never experienced in a proper relationship with a man who would not go to jail for the things he was doing. 

Despite her somewhat illicit past (documented on the sexually charged videos William possesses and now uses to his advantage), Karen has never partaken in any sexual activity or proclivity that could be considered anything other than perfectly "normal." And yet in the past four days she has had every kind of sex with a man whose last name she does not know and who threatens to ruin her reputation if she denies him. A man whose cock she has choked on and begged for, whose cock took her anal virginity without tenderness or mercy, whose cock makes her swallow her reservations and come so hard she worries she might die. 

These thoughts make her face turn red and Karen hopes her elevator companions cannot read her mind. Indeed when she looks up into the mirrored elevator walls they quickly look away. Karen gulps in a breath of air and jabs impatiently at the button for the twenty-first floor. She glances at her watch - she's ten minutes late - and smoothes her already smooth hair back into place. 

Finally - finally - the elevator doors slide open and Karen steps out into the plushly carpeted hallway. The hall itself seems to stretch into infinity, the doors widely spaced and elegantly numbered. Karen recognizes the disparity of the tasteful hotel and the acts she has arrived to participate in and goose bumps spring up along her spine. She checks the room number on the key card and stops in front of the corresponding door. Her eyes flick nervously to the peephole and she wonders if William is watching. She swipes the card though the lock and the light turns green. After an infinitesimal pause, Karen steps inside. 

The room is pitch black. The carpet is so dense that Karen can't even hear her own footsteps. She enters just far enough to close the door behind her and wait for her eyes to adjust. She feels nothing, sees nothing, hears nothing. Her heart pounds in her ears and when, after a full minute has passed and nothing has changed, her vision has not adjusted, she begins to feel afraid. And then he touches her. 

It is a large, calloused hand on the back of her neck, stroking the smooth skin below her tight chignon, tracing the tendons on the side of her neck and around to her clavicle. Karen closes her eyes and swallows thickly. The fingers linger over her throbbing pulse and a warm set of lips follows, applying gentle suction. 

In quick succession Karen is stripped of her suit jacket and skirt, the blouse that cost more than this room, and each and every hair pin. She stands completely still in her gifted lingerie and heels, hair spilling down her back as William - who she assumes is William - continues his thorough examination of her body. He's so thorough, in fact, that Karen begins to grow impatient. She spots the red digital numbers of a clock across the room and squints to read them - nearly ten thirty. Just how long is she expected to stand here while William essentially feels her up? 

She shudders as his lips finally trail up her thigh and his tongue swipes over her cunt, exposed thanks to the crotchless panties she received that morning. A moan escapes and the tongue stills. William chuckles and rises. Karen can feel his clothing - no jeans and leather this time: it feels like he's wearing a suit and tie - and he confirms this when he whispers, "Take off my tie." 

Grateful for something to do, Karen reaches up and smoothly loosens his tie, sliding the silky fabric through her fingers and around his neck until he takes the material from her and wraps it around her eyes. Karen's hands reach up automatically to pull it away, but William stops her. She has a split second to wonder why she's being blindfolded in a dark room, but those questions are answered when the lights switch on. William adjusts the tie so she is sufficiently blinded, then, with his warm hand on the small of her back, guides her across the room. When he stops she stops, and she hears him settle into what she presumes to be a chair next to her. 

"Kneel," he says. 

Karen kneels. It is somehow easier to "obey" his commands with her eyes covered. Easier to heed someone she has yet to see. She hears a zipper lowering and a slight rustle, then a hand on the back of her head bringing her forward. She knows what's coming and opens her mouth to receive the fat head of his cock. He pushes her too far the first time and she gags slightly, pulling back. He relents and lets her set the pace for the first few minutes. 

Karen feels her pussy weeping, juices dampening the inside of her thighs. She has her hands on his knees, bracing herself, and the cool air in the room brushes along her spine and the exposed crack of her ass. William pushes himself further into her mouth and she opens as wide as she can as he bumps the back of her throat. He's made her deep throat him before and this time is no different. A few more practice runs and he is burying her nose in his pubic hair, his satisfied grunts spurring her on despite some minor discomfort. She sucks him noisily, saliva coating his shaft, and she can taste the salt and musk of him. His thrusts become shorter, harder, and Karen sucks him accordingly. Finally and without warning he comes in her mouth, spurting his come onto her tongue until he is spent. Without being asked Karen tilts her head back and parts her red lips, revealing his gleaming deposit. With her mouth open, she swallows the creamy mass. William's warm hand strokes her cheek. 

"Stay here," he says, rising and slipping past her. 

Karen remains kneeling before the empty armchair. She feels anxious and exposed and very turned on. She thinks about feeling afraid but reasons that William has already done everything she would have tried to stop him from doing had he had not had his leverage, so she waits. 

"Turn around," William calls from across the room. "Stay on your knees and rest your arms on the chair behind you. Keep them there until I say otherwise."

Karen shuffles around so her back rests against the soft fabric of the chair, her elbows and forearms sinking into the cushion. Her back arches slightly, thrusting her breasts forward, her nipples peeking out over the extremely low-cut demi-cups.

"Spread your knees more," William orders, this time from much closer. She feels the cold tip of his shoe inside of one leg and widens her stance until he is satisfied. The smooth leather trails up the inside of one thigh, through the juices gleaming there, and slides through her glistening labia. He nudges the clasping entrance to her body and Karen's heart stops. After a second he moves away and she resumes breathing. She hears the sound of a cork popping and soon after the sound of liquid being poured into glasses. 

"Champagne." William answers the unspoken question. He presses a glass against her lips and she opens her mouth to gratefully accept his offering. Karen doesn't drink often, but she recognizes money when she tastes it, and William had clearly spared no expense. He does not remove the glass until it is empty and Karen licks her lips. She hears him drink his own beverage then there is a muted thud and a slight movement on the ground below her. 

William's fingers swipe through her pussy, separating her labia, and his free hand comes to rest on her shoulder, pushing her down. Karen obeys until she feels the cold glass bottle nudging her seeping core. She freezes. "No," she says. 

"Do it," William orders.

Karen shakes her head. "No."

"Trust me," he says. 

Karen stills. How far can she reasonably be expected to trust her blackmailer? Enough to fuck a champagne bottle? No. Never.

"No," she says again. 

William sighs and removes his hand from her cunt. He places it on her other shoulder and presses down harder. Karen whimpers and he lowers his face to hers, separating her lips with his tongue and kissing her. If he wants to surprise her, this is the way. How does the man trying to make her impale herself on a bottle kiss her with such thorough tenderness? 

"Trust me," he whispers. 

Karen lets him push her down over the mouth of the bottle. She feels the cold glass sliding inside her cunt and shivers. She is so wet that it slides in easily, and after six inches the pressure from William's hands disappears and she sighs in relief.

"You look beautiful," William tells her, hands stroking over her full breasts and trailing down her stomach. "I'm going to let you come while you fuck that bottle."

Those are words Karen had never expected to hear and she has to force herself to remain calm. Well, calm is relative, but the whir of a vibrator makes her nipples tighten impossibly more and soon she feels William's stroking hand on her hip as he places the vibrator against her pussy. The rough vibrations make her entire body stiffen and her lips fall open. Karen moans. She forgets she is mounted on the mouth of a champagne bottle and thrusts her hips forward to meet the vibrator. William chuckles and turns it up a notch and Karen moans again, louder. William presses it hard against her, one hand dropping to her thigh, encouraging her to fuck the bottle. He watches her sink lower as her orgasm heightens, watches the thick green glass split her oozing pussy, listens as her breathing turns raspy and heated. 

"Fuck that bottle," he whispers. This is a particular fantasy of his. To bring Karen to such a state of arousal that she will do anything for him. Now with his silk tie covering her eyes and the lingerie he had selected for her barely covering her most prized parts, William feels his cock swell. 

"Fuck it," he orders. "Deeper, harder." He flips the vibrator to its highest setting and Karen cries out. Her fingers dig into the armchair cushion and colour flushes her cheeks and chest. "Come for me, Karen," William urges. "Tell me how good it feels." 

"Oh!" Karen gasps as her body starts to convulse. "Oh God. Oh God." 

He can see the muscles in her stomach contracting, her thighs tense and straining, and he presses the vibrator to her as tightly as he can without preventing her from fucking the bottle. Finally she arches one final, sharp time and a cry freezes on her parted red lips. Her pussy clasps the shining bottle and William uses a hand to keep it inside her as her cunt spasms frantically around it. When he senses she's done he switches off the vibrator and lays it on the ground next to him. Without letting himself think about it William dips his head forward and swipes his tongue through her pussy, tasting splashes of champagne and come. He sucks her swollen clitoris into his mouth and Karen moans and pushes weakly at his head. He backs away and stares at her pretty face. 

"What do you say?" he asks, because that is, after all, his role. 

A moment.

"Thank you," Karen finally replies. 

William leads Karen to the king size bed, still blindfolded. She follows obediently, her fingers enfolded in his. If she tries hard enough she can ignore the fact that she is doing what she's doing. Her head says it's wrong. Her heart says it's wrong. But those are not the body parts William stimulates. 

The things she has felt in these past days with William are feelings she has pushed down and ignored for ten years. Her sex life has always been comfortable, routine, and adequate. Never had she awoken the morning after with bruises and a limp in her step; never had she had to sit down quite so gingerly the following day. Karen has decided to view this week as a reawakening: there is clearly a part of her that enjoys the submissive role she plays with William, though it is not a role she is willing to fully acknowledge. What she does admit is the fact that she has made a mistake by pretending never to have had these feelings at all. Karen doubts that she would have ever had the courage or the nerve to act on these ideas on her own; William's approach may not have been ideal - or even legal - but Karen believes that the end result will be a more satisfied, sexually confident woman, and through that reasoning she is able to lie on the bed, eyes still covered, and wait for William's next command. 

"Do you like the blindfold?" William asks. He has moved some distance away; his voice is faint. 

"Yes," Karen answers. The last time she was blindfolded she had been swinging a baseball bat at a papier mâché donkey, hoping for candy. Now the roles are reversed and she is the one awaiting the next hit. 

She can hear William's footsteps drawing nearer, then the sound of a bottle being placed on the side table near her head. "Did you like tasting yourself the other day?" he inquires. "When I put the dildo in your mouth, did you like the taste of your pussy?"

Karen knows he is being purposely crude, just as he knows that she did not enjoy it. What did she did enjoy was not being responsible for their activities: William did all the planning, she followed his lead. 

"You know I didn't." The champagne bottle is next to her head; if she tries hard enough she can smell it. She does not want to drink from the bottle. 

"Are you thirsty?" William asks, reading her expression. He's smiling; even if he were the one blindfolded he would know her response. 

"No."

He chuckles and strokes a hand from her throat to the junction of her thighs, feeling her simply because he can. Karen shudders and he does it again, this time pausing to remove her bra. He has shed his own clothing and now he sits beside her on the bed and lowers his face to her breast, sucking her plump nipple into his mouth. She arches into him gently and he places a broad hand on her stomach to hold her to the bed. He torments her for a moment then pulls away, deciding. 

"Put your hands over your head," he orders. 

There is a second's hesitation before Karen raises her hands. Her fingers meet the cool metal of the ornate wrought iron headboard. 

"Grip the bars."

She does. 

There is a sharp click and padded cuffs are fastened around her wrists. Karen makes a soft exclamation of surprise and tests the restraints: she cannot free her hands. She feels the mattress lift as William rises. 

"Are you afraid?" he asks from the foot of the bed. 

Karen is trembling but she shakes her head. 

William wraps a warm hand around both ankles and tugs Karen down the bed so her arms are fully extended. Without pushing herself up the bed she cannot easily move her upper torso. 

William approaches from the opposite side of the bed and sits down, immediately returning his mouth to her breast, this time focusing his attention on her other straining nipple. Karen moans; despite her heated condition the warmth of William's mouth on her skin has goose bumps exploding up and down her body. 

As his mouth works on her nipple William's free hand traces patterns on her right breast, across her stomach, over her pubic bone. Karen raises her hips and sighs heavily; she felt so weak after the first orgasm that she had not thought it possible to become aroused again. As always with William, she is wrong. 

"Do you want my fingers in your cunt?" William asks softly, punctuating the question by biting hard on her nipple. 

Karen squeaks but manages a strangled, "Yes."

"Then spread your legs," he orders. "Wide."

Karen parts her legs until she can feel the sticky folds of her pussy parting. William's fingers stroke the sensitive crease of skin where her thigh meets her torso, but does not apply pressure where she really needs it. 

"Karen." The word is a warning that Karen heeds, bending her knees slightly and spreading her legs as wide as they can go. 

"Beautiful," William says, cupping her leaking core with his hand. 

"Oh," Karen utters. "Harder. Please."

William bites her nipple in response. 

"Not there!" Karen exclaims. "Down - My - My..." She doubts it will ever be easy to speak the way the women in movies do; she doesn't even like talking about these things with her friends. 

William pushes his middle finger deep into her pussy, strokes her once, twice, three times, then pulls his hand away and pushes that same finger into her mouth. Karen moans and twists her face away. 

"Say it," William says, forcing his finger between her teeth. 

"My pussy!" Karen snaps, spitting his finger out.

William chuckles and this time uses his thumb to find her clit and circle gently. 

"Yes," Karen breathes. 

After another moment the only sounds in the room are that of William's suckling and Karen's soft moans. The peaceful atmosphere is quickly disrupted when a second mouth fastens onto Karen's other breast. 

Karen shrieks and tries to sit up, but her hands are fastened high above her head and William is pinning her down from below: she is held fast in place. 

"Wh- what...?" she stammers, trying to find the words. "Who... who is it?"

"Just enjoy, Karen," William murmurs, neither his hand nor his mouth slowing. A second hand has been added to her body, stroking her stomach, her hip. 

"William, I-" She wants to say she never agreed to this, but it seems too obvious. "This is not-"

While the mystery mouth remains hard at work on her breast, William stops his ministrations and grips Karen's jaw with a rough hand. 

"Karen," he says with forced patience, "this isn't about what you want, is it? This is my week. You do what I say, and who I say, when I say. And right now I say shut the fuck up."

William nearly relents when he sees Karen's lower lip tremble and a tear leak from under the blindfold. He nearly sends his guest away, though doing so would severely interrupt his plans for the evening. Instead he wipes away the tear and kisses her plump lips. "It's nobody you know," he says softly. "Nobody you will know."




Blast From The Past Ch. 04



Karen's breathing is ragged; whether it's arousal or distress will remain a mystery. 

"But it is somebody who's going to fuck you, got it?"

Karen refuses to answer and he takes her silence as acquiescence. 

"Now suck his dick," William orders. 

The bed shifts as the mystery man straddles Karen's chest and presses the head of his hard cock against her lips. When her mouth doesn't open immediately, fingers - she doesn't know whose - grip her jaw and force it open and his erection slips inside. Karen starts to suck - she's overwhelmed and frightened but also curious. And when William's mouth fastens onto her pussy she stops fighting and gives in. 

The cock in her mouth is huge, both thick and long, and she can take no more than a few inches in this position. The newcomer tucks a pillow under her head and adjusts his angle so more of the foreign cock slides into her mouth, nudging the back of her throat. Karen sucks this new cock, coating it liberally with her saliva, laving it with her tongue. She is perhaps over-stimulated: down below William is eating her voraciously and she is desperate to come and yet so turned on she fears it may not be possible. Soon both she and the man fucking her face are grunting and moaning and Karen's hips are twisting and William can't stop his gaze from sliding up her body and watching that lean throat work someone else's cock .

"That's enough," he says, pulling away from her oozing pussy and wiping a hand across his mouth. The friend glances over his shoulder, ready to argue, but one look at William's furious expression changes his mind. William doesn't know just how jealous he looks right now: he's too busy being angry. 

The friend takes a few steps away and watches as William moves Karen up the bed slightly, then turns her so she's now on her knees facing the headboard. William slides underneath and she lifts one leg to straddle him. 

"How's your cunt?" William asks her. 

Now that Karen knows there's an audience it's nearly impossible to talk, even if she had just been sucking said audience member's cock. 

William slaps her breast. "Karen!"

"Fine!" she shouts. 

"Fine?" he echoes. "Even after you fucked yourself with a champagne bottle? Your cunt's fine? Ready for some more?"

"Yes," Karen answers. "Whatever you want."

She can sense his anger though she doesn't know what she's done wrong. William doesn't explain, just uses his strong hands to pull her hips down while pushing his own hips up, firmly impaling her on his straining cock with one rough thrust. 

Karen cries out and they both still; William watches her face until the pain ebbs. His hands stroke her face, her neck, her sides, willing away the discomfort. He wants to fuck her, not harm her, he thinks. But a part of him does want her to hurt, wants her to know who it is that's fucking her, even as he keeps her eyes covered and gestures for his friend to get on the bed behind her. 

When the mattress shifts Karen knows what is about to happen and she struggles vainly to prevent it. She doesn't cry and she doesn't beg; her whimpers are desperate and humiliated and futile. William has a death grip on her hips, keeping her pinned on his cock, and with her hands pulled so tightly above her head she is bent over nearly completely. Her ass is exposed, the firm cheeks separated, the tiny dark star William is such a fan of fully vulnerable. 

"William, no," she says, just one time. 

"Karen, yes," he replies, as the stranger's thick cock, well covered with lubricant, takes its place at Karen's back door. 

William watches her face contort as a second, strange cock slowly plows into her vulnerable ass. Small noises come from her mouth, now parted in a helpless 'o'; her anus is tight on the best of days, it is nearly impossible to penetrate now. But both William and his friend are nothing if not determined, and after an interminable period of time Karen is fully impaled on both throbbing cocks. 

The stranger buries himself balls deep in Karen's asshole, watching the tender muscles part for his intrusion. Karen's spine is arched stiffly with some discomfort and disagreement, but she doesn't fight enough to make him want to stop. He's seen it all: the tapes of the naïve nineteen year old, now a beautiful woman fucking a champagne bottle and begging for more. He knows William's plan, but until he saw Karen he didn't know the depth of William's obsession, didn't know it could go beyond the physical. But as he starts fucking William's blackmail girlfriend's ass, he knows he will never be invited back. So he makes the best of his one opportunity. 

In the beginning William lies still, feeling his friend's cock pressing through the thin membrane that divides them. He presses a calloused thumb against Karen's clit so the thrusts stimulate her whether she likes it or not. Her pussy is unbearably tight and hot and he wants nothing so much as to stay here forever. Her cheeks are flushed and he can see the stain spreading over her chest as arousal takes over and she tentatively starts moving her hips. 

When he can't take it anymore William starts fucking her too, plunging his cock into the pussy of his dreams, feeling her in every cell. 

"Do you like this, Karen?" he asks, watching her bite her lower lip. "Do you like having two cocks inside you? Having a stranger fuck your ass?"

Karen does not answer; it's not necessary. William's talk turns them both on, whether she likes it or not. "Fantasized" is a strong word for the curiosity she'd felt on the rare occasions she'd considered sex with two men, but she'd never, ever believed it would happen. Now she's grateful for the blindfold, for the anonymity, for the fact that in the morning she will have answers she'd never sought to a question she hadn't asked. But it feels good. She feels stretched, unbearably full, but so, so wanted. The heavy breathing in the room is not only hers: the men fucking her want her, they don't need to say so, she can feel it. She feels her breasts straining and her pussy dripping, her ass clenching and expanding, her body welcoming and worshiping both cocks. Her heart is pounding and her breath comes fast as the thrusts become deeper, harder. 

The stranger with his cock in her ass strokes her back, her hips, her shiny blonde hair. As his orgasm nears his hands become rough enough to leave bruises, but nobody minds. And neither he nor William notices when he dislodges the blindfold. 

Karen blinks, startled by the abrupt end to the darkness, and after a moment her eyes focus on William's face, just inches below hers. His eyes are closed, his face contorted in a pleasure so intense it's almost painful to see. Her long hair falls around them like a curtain, a tiny space all their own. She studies his face as he fucks her, the creases at the edge of his eye, the lines around his mouth. His jaw is smooth: he shaved before coming to meet her. 

The stranger cries out as he thrusts one final time, burying his cock deep in Karen's ass and spewing his come inside her. William opens his eyes at the sound and finds himself staring in to Karen's liquid blue gaze. Without warning he explodes, his cock swelling and jerking inside her, the orgasm wrenched out of him as Karen watches. 

"Come," he hisses through gritted teeth. He cannot afford to lose the upper hand, but for the moment, he has. 

Karen kisses him, eyes wide open, and he watches as her eyes lose focus before drifting closed as her pussy convulses around him and she whimpers low in her throat. It goes on too long and not long enough, and neither of them moves when the stranger carefully dislodges himself from Karen's ass and finds a tissue to clean himself up. His orders had been to fuck her and leave; he'd been in a hurry to fuck her, and now he can't wait to get out. He knows when he's not wanted. 

It's another minute before the door closes and locks behind the stranger. Karen has not opened her eyes, preferring the darkness to the reality. Her hair still covers her face, locking her and William in a world of their own. When the chill in the room grows uncomfortable she opens her eyes and William tucks her hair behind her ears. 

They stare at each other, then William sits up. He lifts her easily and sets her beside him on the bed, swinging his legs over the edge and carefully keeping his back to her. Karen has no trouble identifying the behavior: she's guilty of it herself. Neither of them can afford to feel any kind of connection, and the glimpse of possibility that had shown itself the previous day is still too terrifying to contemplate. So William gets her off with inanimate objects, gives her ass to his friend, turns his back when they're both too exposed. 

William stands and puts his clothes on as Karen wraps herself in the blanket and waits for her pulse to slow. After a moment she stands and looks around for her clothes. 

"I didn't say you could cover yourself," William says. 

Karen spares him a wry glance as she collects her skirt from the ground. "Show's over, buddy," she replies. 

William turns away so she doesn't see him smile. He pulls the promised videotape out of his bag and tosses it onto the bed. 

"You should watch this one," he tells her. "It has some good moments. See you tomorrow." He strides out of the room without looking back. 

Karen heads into the bathroom to clean up. When she emerges fifteen minutes later her face is scrubbed clean, her hair twisted neatly behind her neck, the sharp black suit in place. The gifted underwear are in the garbage. And without hesitation she picks up the videotape, hooks a fingernail under the tape, and unwinds the whole thing. She shreds it until she's convinced it can't be salvaged, then flushes the pieces down the toilet, just to be sure. She leaves the room without a second thought. 

William watches Karen glide through the lobby, heads turning. It's after midnight but she looks beautiful and vibrant. He slouches on a couch, half-hidden behind a newspaper, and just takes her in. Karen passes ten feet in front of him, her head swivelling intuitively in his direction, eyes locking on his. And then she looks away, carrying on unimpeded through the hotel doors and disappearing into the darkness like just another stranger in the night.



Blast From The Past Ch. 05



"Wow," Karen remarks as she approaches William's sleek black car. "This is almost like a real date." William knows the comment is sarcastic but it still takes a moment before he can quirk up the edges of his mouth in an appropriately wry smile.

"You look nice." He stands next to the open passenger side door, resting against the car in an attempt to appear nonchalant. His outfit is upscale casual; the kind of casual that costs upward of five hundred dollars. If Karen notices, she doesn't say so, but this only turns him on more and before she can slip past him and climb into the car, he blocks the way with his arm. "Show me," he orders.

Karen's lips part in protest and she looks around. It's eight o'clock on a warm summer evening and the sky is still bright. They're in the driveway of her prestigious brick townhouse and though no one is currently on the street, it doesn't mean they're not within looking distance.

"You already know what I look like," she says, trying to duck under his arm.

"Humour me."

"No."

William grips her chin and forces her to meet his gaze; his blue eyes are steely and determined - even more so than her own. "Now."

Karen swallows, the smooth skin of her throat bumping against his calloused palm, and darts a nervous look at the neighbouring windows. They're empty. For now. William continues to hold her, fingers stroking her jaw as she snatches up the hem of her modest green sundress and hikes it over her knees. 

William chuckles. "Higher."

"In the car," she pleads, cursing herself. She doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of her pleas but can't seem to help it. William asks for things no woman could willingly want to give - or does he?

"Here."

Karen hikes the front of the dress up higher, careful to keep her ass covered as she exposes the crotch of her white lace thong to William. 

"Spread your legs."

Karen steps outward, high heeled sandals clicking quietly on the pavement, a sound she is certain will draw out the neighbours. Because of this fear she doesn't make him ask twice and spreads her legs wide, feeling the damp lips of her cunt parting around the smooth lace. Her cheeks are burning and when her eyes return to William's she finds that he is still watching her face.

"What are you waiting for?" she demands. "Look!"

He doesn't answer because he doesn't have a reply. Instead he slowly lowers his gaze over the slope of her perfect breasts, past her flat stomach and the bunched fabric of her dress to the white thong and the swell of her cunt on either side of it. Keeping one hand on her jaw he drops the other between her legs, using his middle finger to stroke the length of her pussy, from her clit to the cleft of her ass. He's tall enough that he has to bend his legs to reach all of her and Karen's heart pounds with anxiety and arousal. "Please," she whispers. "That's enough."

"I'll tell you when it's enough," he replies, hooking a finger beneath the expensive lace and pushing it into the moist heat of her cunt. And even as he says the words he knows he's lying, that it will never be enough and he'll never say otherwise. He strokes her roughly, curling his finger towards himself and finding her G-spot, making her groan with embarrassment as her pussy starts to gush. He uses his thumb to circle her clit, making them both breathe hard. 

A minute later he pulls his hand away and Karen utters a strangled cry as she remembers herself, eyes flying open to find that they are still in her driveway in broad daylight, that there are neighbours around, though again, if they are watching, they are well hidden. 

"Get in the car," William orders, slapping her on the ass as though they were teammates and not blackmail lovers, heading around to the driver's side and climbing in. Karen takes her seat and closes the door, her knees wobbly as she clasps them together to ease the ache between her legs. 

"Keep them spread," William reminds her, dropping a hand on her thigh and pulling her thighs apart, not waiting for her to obey. 

Karen's cheeks are flushed and her eyes are glassy, but the look she cuts in William's direction is furious. "You-" she begins, but he doesn't appear to be listening as he puts the car in gear and pulls out into the street. There are a lot of ways to finish that statement: You bastard. You liar. You pervert. You promised to keep this a secret if I did what you said, but you just fingered me in front of my house in broad daylight. But instead of giving him the satisfaction of her fury she clamps her lips tightly together and fights the arousal she feels, trying to ignore the telltale slickness on the insides of her thighs.

They drive outside of the city limits and cruise down long stretches of highway before entering the next town, one relatively unfamiliar to Karen. She wonders if this is where William lives, if they're going to his house, what awaits her wherever the destination may be. 

William does not know this town at all. He chose it especially for that reason. He selected it because Karen is unlikely to know people here, though if she does it will only serve to make her more anxious to follow his orders. He slides a gaze her way; as instructed her legs are still parted but her hands are clasped in her lap, fingers linked so tightly that they are as white as bone. 

They drive down the main road in town, shops and restaurants on either side, pedestrians aplenty taking in the perfect summer night. The car belongs to a friend but Karen doesn't need to know this; William chose it because it's a head turner and he knows that people, men in particular, like to check out both the car and its occupants. 

The first words spoken in thirty minutes are "Come here." They follow the sound of William's fly unzipping, the rustle of fabric as he pulls out his stiff cock and strokes it roughly. 

Karen glares at him, prepared to argue, but stops when she sees the look on his face. He wants her to fight, wants to punish her for it, and she's not sure she can take anymore humiliation. The windows are up, the air conditioner on high, so with a hasty look around she unbuckles her belt and bends over the gear shift, enveloping William's cock in her warm, wet mouth. He groans loudly as she sucks him in, fisting his hand in her sleek blonde hair, setting a vigorous pace. It's no small effort to drive safely while Karen brings another one of his fantasies to life, but his plans for the evening involve neither the police department nor the emergency room, so William keeps himself focused on his task. The streets are busy, one red light after another, and the drive is slow. William's split concentration helps him hold off his orgasm and Karen's jaw is tired when he speaks next. 

"Keep my cock in your mouth," he orders, "but look up and out my window."

It's no easy feat to twist her neck in such a way that she can follow his orders, but Karen manages to hold the tip of his cock between her lips as she lifts her eyes to see what he wants her to see. She cries out and buries her face in his lap as her eyes meet the shocked gaze of the twenty-something male passenger in the pick-up idling next to them, his eyes as wide as saucers as he sees her blonde head bobbing up and down on William's cock.

"I didn't tell you to stop sucking," William orders, voice smug. When Karen doesn't respond he tightens his grip in her hair, tight enough to hurt, and she whimpers as she resumes the blow job. "I don't like to repeat myself," William continues, free hand stroking down her back as the light lingers on red. "You know that." He grips the bottom of her dress and yanks it up so her ass is exposed, the firm globes split perfectly in half by the tight white thong. 

Karen's torn between keeping her hands on his cock so he doesn't choke her with his thrusts and covering her ass, but ultimately keeps them where they are, redoubling her efforts before being promptly rewarded with a mouthful of hot come. 

"God," William groans, petting her head like a dog before allowing her to straighten. "Good job."

Karen shimmies in her seat as she adjusts her dress and wipes her mouth. Every last trace of lipstick and dignity are gone and she sits furiously as they reach the end of town and return to the highway. She realizes then that this town had only one purpose, to provide an audience to her humiliation, and she inhales tightly, cheeks burning. "This is your plan?" she finally utters, voice cold. "To embarrass me?"

"What's there to be embarrassed about?" William asks, rolling down the window and resting his elbow on the edge as they pick up speed. "That was awesome. Those guys are going to go home and realize that their wives and girlfriends could never hold a candle to you."

"They-I-"

"They don't know you, Karen, and they never will, unless you make blowing guys in public a habit. So relax."

She stews angrily, the renewed throbbing between her legs stoking her fury. "I'm not-"

"Where's this modesty coming from? Last night you got fucked in the ass by a stranger. Right now you're tasting my come even as you complain about swallowing it. You know the rules: do as I say and you'll get your tapes. We're more than halfway through the deal now; keep up your end of the bargain and I'll keep up mine, got it?"

Karen remains silent as they drive. It's true that last night she - and William - had allowed a complete stranger, one whose face she never even saw, to fuck her in the ass. But something had shifted that night, she had seen William's expression unguarded, seen the tenderness that existed somewhere within him, and thought that perhaps they had reached a new level in their relationship, one that left humiliation and indignity behind. But she had been wrong. He did not have compassion or empathy, he cared nothing for her pride or her feelings, she was a fuck toy, a victim of his latest blackmail scheme, and nothing had changed at all.

Karen was, in fact, completely right and wrong at the same time. She had seen too much of William the night before and he knew it. She had caught a glimpse of it the day before when he fucked her in her office and last night she had seen even more. His attempts to separate his emotional attraction to Karen from his sexual desire for her had backfired. He had allowed his friend into their perverted dynamic and somehow the third party experience had heightened the intimacy. Or at least it had drawn him in; Karen, while sexually available in every way, remained emotionally opaque.

They reach the truck stop just as the sun is setting. He parks the car at the edge of the lot, facing the highway. "Get out," William says, twisting the key in the ignition and climbing out. 

Karen follows him across the lot, heels clacking on the pavement. They stop at the door to the busy diner. William keeps his back to the restaurant so Karen is blocked from view, and holds out his hand. 

Karen stares at his outstretched fingers. "It's a little late for hand holding."

"Give me your panties."

She only looks at him.

"Do I really need to repeat myself?"

Karen has already learned that William does not like to repeat himself, does not tolerate being disobeyed, and so, not for the first time, she glances around warily for onlookers, and, finding none, hikes up her skirt and shimmies out of her underwear, handing William the damp lace and straightening. "Satisfied?"

He chucks her under the chin. "Not nearly." As though this were a real date he holds open the door and follows her inside, warm hand resting on her hip as he guides her to two vacant stools at the counter. With the exception of a trio of elderly waitresses, Karen is the only woman in the place, and by far the most beautiful. Ignoring the fact that she is only with him because he is blackmailing her, William feels a tiny twinge of pride at having what the other men could only dream of. 

A waitress drops two laminated menus in front of them and sidles away wordlessly. Karen shoots William a baleful look. "You're not going to try and order for me, are you?" she asks. "Is that what gets you off?"

"Order whatever you like," he says generously. "It's on me."

She snorts and scans the limited selection. "I'm not hungry."

"That's too bad. I am." When the waitress returns William orders pie and coffee, then wedges a knee between Karen's thighs and turns her on the red vinyl stool so they're face to face. Karen's seat is at the end of the row and from this position she can see the entire diner - and the occupants of the diner can see her. 

"Lift your skirt up," William instructs, voice so low she almost doesn't hear him.

"What?"

"Now."

"I-No."

Before she can react, William wrenches her dress up over her knees, where it bunches in her lap. Another quarter inch and she'd cross the line from indecent to illegal. "William-" Karen slams her legs together but her knees bang painfully against William's. He cuts off her argument with his mouth, pushing his tongue between her teeth, one hand cupping her neck, the other going straight to her breast. There's not a sound in the diner; everyone is frozen, startled by the unexpected show. 

"Kiss me," he orders, when Karen remains immobile. "Now."

Karen hesitates, then reluctantly returns the dominating kiss as best she can. William knows how to kiss, but he has little experience letting someone else kiss him. He drops his hand from her breast, nipple now straining against the green fabric, and trails his fingers up her exposed thigh, slipping across that invisible line until they find the moisture he knew would be there. 

Karen whimpers low in her throat. William's grip is such that she cannot pull away and she uses her hands to grip the counter to try and swivel the seat away from the gawking diners. They break apart when the waitress drops the plates on the counter, forks clattering noisily. Karen's heart is pounding and her breath comes hard, but when she tries to fix her dress William stops her. "Leave it," he says, tugging it up even further now that she's facing the counter. "You're on the menu tonight, or have you not figured that out?"

A flush spreads over Karen's chest and she stares at the pie she cannot possibly eat. "I hate you," she mutters.

William has no such appetite troubles and returns one hand to Karen's bare cunt while wielding his fork with the other. He wastes no time plunging two fingers into her swollen folds, grinding the base of his palm into her clit and making her groan. She could get up and walk away. She could slap his face and scream and stalk out to the highway and stick her thumb out and hope for a ride home. But she doesn't. Instead she drops her head forward into her waiting hands, long hair shielding her face, and simply feels everything that William is doing to her. She tells herself that she will never return to this diner, never see these people or these waitresses again. She focuses on the throbbing need between her thighs, the need only William seems to satisfy, and spreads her legs a little further when he pushes a third digit inside. 

"Oh," she sighs softly as he sloshes his fingers inside her. Her lips part and her breathing is audible and she feels like the eighteen year old girl who went to an upscale club with a boy she didn't know and let him do things she didn't know people could do to each other. Things she didn't know people could enjoy.

"Do you want to come?" William asks.

"Yes."

"Ask me."

"Please let me come."

"Not yet." But he doesn't take his hand away, plunging his fingers rapidly inside her, feeling her clit pulsing under his hand. 

"Please."

"This is just the beginning."

Karen's pulse is pounding in her ears, every heartbeat pushing blood through her veins and sensitizing every square inch of skin. She's so attuned to William's ministrations that when William takes his hand away without allowing her release she falls forward weakly, like a rag doll, catching herself on the counter at the last minute.

"Pie?" William offers, extending a bite on his fork.

She shakes her head, feeling damp hairs clinging to her cheeks. She keeps her gaze on the countertop, not quite able to embody the bold sexual slave identity he has created for her. 

William interrupts her thoughts. "Your turn."

Karen turns her head slightly to meet his eye. "What?"

He nods toward his crotch, the bulge there. "Your turn." To demonstrate his modest nature, he turns his seat slightly so his back is to the diner and Karen's actions will be hidden. "Now."

Keeping her gaze on his, Karen reaches between William's legs and unzips his pants, reaching inside to find his steely cock and enfolding it in her fingers. She watches his face as she grips him, sliding her soft palm up and down his shaft until she feels the moisture on the tip and rubs it over the head, making him groan. 

Suddenly he takes her hand away and zips up his fly. "I'm going to the bathroom," he tells her. "Count to ten and follow me."

Karen's instinct is to argue, as always, but instead she just turns her face away from the staring diner patrons and listens to William's fading footsteps. She counts to ten extremely slowly, uncertain if she can actually stand up on her weak legs, and only tries to rise when she gets to twenty. She trails a hand along the wall for support as she retraces William's steps down a short, dim hallway, stopping in front of the door marked "Men." Never in her life has she been in a men's washroom; never has she wanted to be in one. But now she pushes open the door, swallowing anxiously, relieved when William is the only one inside the small space, three empty stalls and three urinals. William rests against the bank of sinks. 

"On your knees," he orders, and she sinks to her knees in the middle of the room and lets him feed her his cock. He's not gentle; he wants her so badly he couldn't even look at himself in the mirror when he reached the count of ten and she still hadn't entered. He forces himself down her throat, feels her gag and likes it, watches her lips stretch to accommodate his girth, makes her look into his eyes as he uses her. But he doesn't want to come like this and when he can't take it he jerks her to her feet and pushes her in the direction of the sinks, Karen stumbling on shaky legs, catching herself on the edge of the basin with her hands. He pushes her skirt over her waist and takes a split second to admire the view before ramming himself inside her cunt, the slick depths taking his breath away, making her gasp, too. 

"Oh yes," he grunts, pounding into her, balls slapping noisily, moisture trailing down her thighs. 

"Harder," she whispers, keeping her gaze away from the mirror. "William, harder."

William has one hand on her hip and bends over her more so he can reach a hand around to cover her pussy, grinding her clit into his palm with each thrust so they're both making noise, whimpering and groaning as he slams into her with enough force to leave marks. 

"Karen," he manages, eyes on the mirror, on the scene behind them. "Karen."

"William."

"Karen, look up."

It takes a moment for his words to register, to understand that he's giving her directions, and another moment for her to follow them. When Karen raises her head she sees reflected in the mirror exactly what William had intended for her to see: three men from the diner lingering in the doorway, three men with obvious intentions. 

Her startled, horrified gasp is cut off when William seizes her clit between two fingers and pinches, sending shockwaves up her spine, head falling forward in pleasure and shame. "What do you think, Karen?" William asks, voice distant, as though speaking through a dream. "Are you ready to be gangbanged?" 

She doesn't answer, fingers gripping the shiny chrome faucet, head nearly in the sink, gaze locked on the dark abyss of the drain. 




Blast From The Past Ch. 05



"Answer me, Karen. Are you going to let these men fuck you? Are you going bend over and spread your legs and let them push their cocks inside of you? Are you going to suck one off while the other fucks you, getting him hard while he waits his turn? Are you going to be their whore?"

His words cut off when William comes, pulling out and spraying over her ass and thighs, long strings of come marring her perfection. This was his intention, of course. To destroy the fantasy, to forever alter his perception of Karen as a goddess, as the one woman of which he could never have his fill. 

When Karen doesn't speak he looks at the men reflected in the mirror and gives an imperceptible nod. William knows their names but their names don't matter; they were asked to be at this diner, in this bathroom, and they agreed not to ask questions. One comes to stand beside Karen at the sink, cock bobbing, brushing against her blonde hair. "Suck his cock, Karen," William orders. "Turn your head and open your mouth."

William's voice comes from beside her, next to the man whose cock she can see through the veil of her hair. She has little left to lose, she thinks, bent over in a truck stop restroom, covered in come, her most private areas exposed to complete strangers. Slowly Karen's hand rises, tucking her hair behind her ear. She turns her head as instructed, opening her mouth for a stranger's cock, eyes on William, her gaze filled with contempt. The stranger seizes the opportunity and pushes himself between her lips, eyes closing as he settles in for the ride. Karen doesn't know if it's stranger number two or three pushing into her used, tender pussy, but it no longer matters. She is playing a role, she is the fuck toy William wants her to be, she is a woman who spreads herself in truck stops, who follows orders, who cares so little for anybody that anybody who cares to have her may. 

They change places, as William had promised, the one in mouth sliding into her pussy to fuck her before pulling out and covering her ass with his come. The one from her pussy pulled away the condom before sinking into her mouth, coming in her throat, making her swallow her second load of the night. William stands by, looking on dispassionately, as the third one turns Karen around and pins her to the wall with his body, hooking her knees over his thick arms and pummelling her with his cock as she takes and takes and takes. He eventually pulls out and comes in her mouth too, and when Karen finally rises, she is the only one who hasn't come, and she's ashamed to realize that she still wants to.

"Are you done?" she asks William. There is nothing in her voice to betray her feelings.

"Ask them," he instructs, nodding at the strangers. 

"Are you done?" she repeats, not sparing them a glance.

One looks at William. "You said we could have her ass?" 

William swallows. "Yes."

The stranger looks at Karen. "Bend over. Pull your ass apart."

Karen wonders who she is as she follows his instructions. When he rolls on a condom and pushes into her ass, she wonders how she can go to work in the morning as though she is the same person. How she could go along with a week of sexual blackmail and think that she could be fine at the end of it. How someone who has helped her find herself could make her feel so lost.

The assfucking is fast and hard, but she has had enough practice now that it is only vaguely uncomfortable. When the second man takes his turn, and then the third, her anus is stretched and gaping and she feels almost nothing at all. When they have all come she asks again if they are done. This time they don't reply, turning and walking out as though this were an everyday occurrence. Karen straightens, her dress falling to her knees. If not for the come making it stick to her ass and the back of her thighs, she would look very nearly presentable. 

William looks at her. "Did you like it?"

"I don't know."

"What don't you know?"

"I don't think I'm a whore. I don't know why you're trying to convince me I am."

William doesn't answer for a long time. He's not trying to convince Karen that she's a whore; he's trying to convince himself. You can't love a whore, can you?

"Show me your pussy."

Karen lifts her dress; she's beginning to wonder why she even wore one. 

"Are you sore?"

"A little."

"Pull your cunt apart. Show me your clit."

Karen obeys; she has no secrets left.

William strides toward her and Karen drops the skirt and stumbles back until her shoulder blades hit the wall. William grabs fistfuls of her skirt and presses his knee between her thighs, spreading her legs. "Do you like this position?" he demands. "Legs spread for whoever asks?"

Karen doesn't answer. He pushes his hand between her legs but doesn't penetrate her. "It made me hard watching them fuck you," William whispers, rubbing her clit roughly. "I liked watching them fuck you in the ass. I liked that you let them. I liked seeing your ass gape from someone else's cock. At the beginning of the week you were an anal virgin; now you'll take it from anyone."

Karen's eyes have drifted shut, her breath comes quiet and soft, focused only on the impending orgasm. 

"I like that you had four cocks in you today, but the only person who can make you come is me. That the only person you want to come for is me."

Her eyes flutter open at the words; they watch each other closely as the orgasm sharpens. "Think about sucking my cock for an audience, Karen. Think about your neighbours watching me touch your pussy. Think about showing your cunt to the diner, swallowing my cock in the bathroom. Think about letting those nice men fuck you, asking them if they wanted more, then bending over and pulling your ass apart when they weren't finished. Think about your gaping asshole. That's what I'm going to think about. What a whore you are. What secrets your pretty little sundress hides. How those nasty thoughts make you come so hard you can't stand it."

And then Karen does come, knees buckling so her weight is pinned on William's hand between her thighs, gripping her tightly, thumb working itself feverishly over her swollen clit and her well-used pussy. Her head falls back weakly, lips parting on a sigh as everything goes slack except her cunt. It spasms violently, gushing its juices into William's waiting hand. 

He holds her up, keeps her steady, waits for the final waves to pass and for Karen to come back to herself, eyes opening and gradually focusing on his face. "Okay?" he asks, instantly regretting the word since it suggests that there is a crack in his uncaring façade. "Get washed up."

Karen wets some paper towel and cleans herself up as best she can. She does not know what to say. Now that the moment has passed she does not want to go back into the diner, does not want to cross the parking lot to the car and be on display as William puts the key in the ignition. She wants to be away from here, away from this truck stop, back on the highway, wrapped in the security of the night. No one knows about this, she tells herself. These men don't count, William doesn't count. This week is a secret. You will get answers to questions you didn't have the courage to ask, and if you don't like them you don't need to repeat them. 

Because he's a weak bastard, William gives Karen his jacket, wrapping her in it and tucking her under his arm as he strides down the hall, steering her out of the diner as she hides her head in his chest. She sinks low in her seat when they reach the car and William starts it up quickly, pulling out of the parking lot, tires squealing as they hit the highway. 

He wasn't lying when he said he liked watching the men fuck Karen. He liked watching them strip away the inhibitions and the preconceived notions Karen had of herself; the idea that a respectable realtor like Karen Roberts would never allow herself to be gangbanged in a truck stop bathroom. But he realizes now that sharing her doesn't put distance between them the way he had hoped; that exposing her weakness meant exposing his own. If he truly didn't care he wouldn't be the one to drive her home, wrap her in his jacket, ask her if she's cold when he sees that she's shivering.

Karen huddles inside William's jacket and watches the taillights race past them. The ride home takes forever and she is exhausted. When she was the confused eighteen-year-old looking for money for college and trying to find her way in the big city, she made some videos she thought would never resurface. She had gone to expensive clubs with experienced men and done things she tried to forget about. But all she had really succeeded in doing was suppressing questions and urges she was mistakenly ashamed of. Fifteen years later she finds herself in a similar, exaggerated position, playing a role someone else has written, this time without the camera. But now she is old enough to understand the consequences and even the benefits of her actions. Karen Roberts is not a whore. She doesn't want to be gangbanged again, but she had often wondered what it felt like, and now she knows. William, however, does not. She sees in his face the concern he tries to hide, the questions he is afraid to ask. He wonders if he has broken her.

She had been furious, initially, that he would display her like that, attempt to humiliate her. But now she sees that his actions are a lame attempt to spare his feelings. Karen's weakness is the tapes he is using to blackmail her; this they both know. But William's weakness is Karen, and until this evening, only one of them knew it.

He parks in her driveway but does not turn off the car. The night's charade is over and Karen opens her own door, climbing out before pausing to look back in at William, face hidden in shadow. "I had a nice time," she tells him, tone indiscernible.

William's smile is wry as he hands her the promised videotape. "Maybe we can go out again some time."

Karen shuts the door, swallowed whole by the night. "Maybe."