The Anonymous Blackmailer Ch 3
The blackmailer primes Terry’s pump.
© 2024, all rights reserved to the author Flynn99
[Terry and Eve have discovered that someone on the internet is blackmailing both of them and, so far, has used that power to cause them to perform sex acts in public. They are both terrified about what’s coming next, but intensely curious about who’s blackmailing them and why. And especially, they want to know how this is going to end.]
I get home in the Uber, exhausted, scared, saved, relieved and horny as hell. Of course, my girlfriend Sandy isn’t sleeping over tonight – we don’t see each other every night and Especially because of my ‘date’ in the park, I made sure tonight wasn’t one of those nights. But I feel so guilty anyway.
I go take a warm shower – I’m still frozen after being forced to get naked in the cold. Happily, my little buddy comes out of hiding and relaxes. I smile at him and compliment him for everything he did. And with that last bit of humor, while trying to laugh, at last I lose it. It’s all so surprising, suddenly having my life stolen from me. I scream and pound my fist on the wall. Why…?
I take a big breath after that. How do I feel?
Terrified: IT has my life on the line. We call the blackmailer ‘IT’ since we don’t know IT’s gender and by calling the blackmailer ‘IT’ we dehumanize IT, as IT has dehumanized us. IT can press a button now and I’ll be in jail for the rest of my natural life, but that still doesn’t make me feel anything but pure anger.
Guilty: First, all the manufactured blackmail material that IT produced to get my cooperation – I look guilty of serious crimes. But I also am guilty as fuck. I’ve cheated on Sandy. I’m having relationships with another man’s wife, so I’m aiding her in cheating and hurting that other guy. I’m breaking the law – getting naked and having sex in public places. Now the blackmailer has pictures of Sandy and me fucking on the couch, since IT has access to all my home cameras – so I’ve exposed her too. This is bad. This is so bad.
Horny: okay, yes. I admit it. I’ve never been so hot in my life. The experience with Eve in the park… being denied for almost a week, knowing I’m being watched. It’s all so creepy but oddly stimulating.
Speaking of being denied – how can I keep avoiding sex with Sandy? She’s going to get suspicious. Maybe I tell her I got ED?
Sandy. This is all so weird. Disturbing. I love Sandy. This one, I’d thought, was shaping up to be the one that stuck. We connect emotionally. We’re aligned socially. The sex is great. She mostly ‘gets’ me…
Except it makes me kinda sad that she really doesn’t understand my art. She only seems to understand hyper-realistic art and then only as far as the subject – nothing about technique, composition, brush strokes, color, light”I like how he smiles at her” or “that flower looks like a photograph” whatever… Me, I paint abstracts, pointillism, light play, gradient, focus, motion: but nothing that would even register on her art brain. I should send her to art appreciation classes.
But Eve! That’s a whole other plane of connection. I don’t know why I feel so ridiculously close to her. Was it the pure lust of what we did in the park? The foxhole/trauma camaraderie of both being horribly blackmailed? The fact that she’s beautiful? Or that she loves my art? I don’t really understand, but all of it. My feelings are so strong and confusing, coming straight out of the blue like this.
How would I compare the two? It’s like they’re from different worlds: they don’t even compare. They’re both hot, both amazing women. My relationship with them is totally different. I laugh to myself: I just thought of Eve as a ‘relationship’ but I hardly know her: I know what the back of her throat feels like more than theinside of her brain. But everything – EVERYTHING – about the inside of her brain that I saw, I liked. And, under duress, isn’t that where you see the real person?
—
*Thursday*
I’m halfway dressed to go to the studio when my cellphone beeps which now makes me cringe in terror. It’s becoming Pavlovian.
“sweet trees and meets” is texting.
“so how wuz it terry did u get off “
How do I answer? I feel like I have to be straight: IT already knows too much; I don’t know what the blackmailer doesn’t know. I guess I have to be honest…
“Scary. Hot. Terrifying. Sexy.”
“wut u think of eve “
“She’s beautiful. Vivacious. She has strong character. Good taste. And she give amazing head.”
“she somethin rite great boobs OO hot ass beautiful lips “
“Yes. All that. You can check your web shots and see for yourself. Who are you?”
“not the questn questchn is who r u “
Shit. What does that mean? While I’m trying to type a response, the bouncing dots bounce indicating IT is typing, so I just wait.
“wer goin 2 find out found yr kink test on yr comp switch leaning dom pleasure dom knotty boy
“shave yr cok ass an ballz finsh wrok by noon 2day be here by 1 n do whtver she sez I will get report after n I do mean whtever “
What the fuck is that? Now I have so much to think about. I’m being sent somewhere to a “she” who is going to give me orders. I don’t think it’s going to be about cleaning her office or painting her walls. Considering everything about IT – it’s going to be sexual. Or humiliating. Or maybe this is the endgame: it might be illegal. But I know it will be intense.
Or maybe “she” is the blackmailer?
I awkwardly go into the bathroom and shake myself. It’s almost impossible to shake your own ass. Why am I shaving my ass? Then it strikes me: oh, fuck! I don’t want to know. But it takes forever and I’m not sure I got it right even then. I finish dressing and check my computer to see if that other me – the one IT created – has been up to no good again. Apparently not. These damn things are so complicated though, I can’t really tell. IT had to show me. I’m a fine arts major, not a computer science geek!
So I go to my studio, but I can’t paint. I can’t think.
Who is IT? Is this an old boyfriend of Eve’s or girlfriend of mine getting revenge? I don’t know Eve’s world, but she might’ve said something If she suspected. All of my exes were left on amicable terms and none of them skilled enough to do this. Eve’s husband – that makes no sense – she said that he was not at all dominant and the jealous type and why force her to do this? Sandy? God, no! She’s an uptight straight bible belt type and couldn’t ever do this: she doesn’t have the desire or the skills. A secret government agency? Why? A sick thesis experiment from a sociopath psych major? Who would approve that? It’d be illegal.
What about a criminal thing? Blackmail people and get them to run drugs or something? Makes sense: I guess getting us in more and more Compromising situations give them better blackmail material before they deliver the ultimate coup de grâce. It’s like a movie – is this a spy thing? But neither a parm sales rep nor a hack artist would be useful, would we? Am I going to be invited to a coronation and they’ll set me up to assassinate someone or something? Man, I’m letting my imagination go wild on this: I’ve seen too many movies! I don’t have enemies at work – I don’t work with anyone except galleries. Maybe Eve has enemies? Elaborate approach though.
My ex – Melissa – was pretty bitter about our break-up, but what did she expect? She cheated. And, frankly, she wasn’t that interesting anyway. But does she have the talent to do something like this? She is a programmer… no, this is too difficult for her and she has other things to do. Right?
Nothing makes sense!
I stop to get some food, and avoid greasy things that might make whatever happens this afternoon harder. But I’m not hungry – too anxious.
And it’s time. I follow Maps and get there and it’s in one of those drive-in industrial parks – rows of buildings with rows of non-descript doors: the kind of place you always wonder what’s inside. There are only a few cars in the parking lot. I park under a tree and walk to the suite. Nerve-wracking.
Nothing on the door except a number. While waiting nervously for exactly 1:00, I hear a female voice from inside “Come in, Terry – it’s unlocked.”
Shit.
I open the door and creep inside waiting for my eyes to adjust.
“Turn around and lock the door, Terry.” The voice is authoritative, commanding.
I think I know what this is. My heart flutters in my chest. How bad will this be? How far?
“Just stand there, Pet.” Pet? I do know what this is. Oh my god! I’ve read too much. An artist needs to have a broad view of the world to make art relevant and I’ve read a lot: I’ve seen how this scenario could play out, but never thought I’d be in it – especially on this side!
I just have to trust that she’s a professional. She is a professional, right?
And I feel a silk blindfold being tied around my head.
My breath starts shaking. I feel her hands on my upper arms. Her mouth breathing in my right ear.
“I know what you want.” She nibbles my ear.
Can I say anything? The blackmailer said that she’s giving IT a scorecard. I better just go along with it…
Breath in my other ear: an involuntary shiver goes down my spine. “You’re such a naughty boy. Thanks for sending me your kink test. That makes it easy. But don’t think I’m going easy on you. You’re going to learn your lesson well…” Then she slurps my ear with her tongue, practically inserting it in the ear canal and give me full heebie jeebies.
What lesson? What did IT says to her about me? Oh, shit… “Fuuucccckkk…”
“Call me Mistress. You know the rules.”
No, actually I don’t. “Yes, Mistress.”
Other ear: “You Remember your safe word?”
No, I don’t know my safe word. But I already know that I’m going to do anything she says since I fucking have no choice, so what the fuck? “I don’t plan to use it, Mistress.”
“Why did I blindfold you?”
And here it is. I’ve had a straight life. I know I have k tendencies, but I’ve never done anything about them besides read and fantasize. Some of that is buried in my art: overt enough to appeal, but subtle enough to be a question. But now I’m going to full-out admit to another actual human being what I really know and understand.
“Sensory deprivation. It forces me into my head and increase the mystery and fear of what’s happening around me, increasing the feeling of helplessness and therefore submission.”
Pain! I’ve never had my nipple pinched and twisted like that before. Oh! I screwed up: “OUCH!…’Mistress’! I’m sorry, Mistress! Please stop, Mistress.”
She lets off. “I stop when I’m ready, but that is only your warning. I expect complete obedience Without question over anything I say. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re the dominant and I’m the… submissive. Because you enjoy the power and I’m supposed to enjoy the release of responsibility and decision making. I’m supposed to like being controlled, Mistress.”
“Spoken like a true Dom-inclined virgin switch.” She laughs. “You will be fun to train! No actual experience with kink?”
“No, Mistress. Nothing direct.”
“And you came to me first? That’s like starting first grade in grad school!”
How do I answer that? I wantSome rapport here. Apparently, IT communicated to her as if it was me talking so I guess I better stay in character. “Only the best, Mistress.”
Do I say enough that she puts together that it’s not me who set this up? Could I get out of this – or have a safer scenario – if she knows this isn’t what it seems?
A desperate plea for help? But… maybe she’s the blackmailer. Maybe she Likes my art and this is some weird groupie thing… I can’t take the risk.
She’s a pro-domme, right? She has a reputation to uphold… this should be safe. I hope. Another chill runs down my spine: one of fear.
“You have too I many clothes on.”
I immediately start to undress. Total compliance, right?
“Faster!
“Why do submissives have to be naked?”
This is terrifying. I’m getting naked in the dark in front of a complete stranger who could do anything to me, I feel so helpless. “It increases their humiliation and therefore their submissiveness, Mistress. Oh, and,it gives you, the dominant, access to their flesh, Mistress, increasing the sense of fear.”
She whistles as I take off the last of it, folding clothes as best I can, blindfolded, and setting them aside the door. I’m still standing in front of the glass door and I know I could be seen standing here, naked, if anyone walks by. I don’t want to be here!
“What is the most important part of the dominant-submissive relationship?”
This conversation is reassuring somehow. It takes a little of the edge off. “Um… doing what… um… I don’t know how to answer that, Mistress?”
“Remember this if you take nothing else from today: A submissive needs to feel wanted. A dominant wants to feel needed.
“You have your safe word, Terry. Everything that happens today is because you choose to submit. That’s the other important lesson: that submission is choice. The dominant should not force it from you: that would be abuse.
“Submission is a gift: it’s a gift of trust.
“Dominance is a privilege.
“Tell me what you’ve learned so far.”
“I’ve learned… that it makes me nervous to be naked in front of a stranger with risk of public exposure…” she snickers “sorry, no, I shouldn’t joke. I’m sorry. I’m very nervous.
“The dominant has a phenomenon responsibility. He’s being given another person’s almost-complete trust. He’s accountable to meet the submissive’s needs. To respect the sub and to give her pleasure however she defines it. But it’s also to assert dominance; there’s a thrill for some people in that. They are wired to feel comfortable only when someone is telling them what to do. Just… each of them has their reasons and gets their thrill from however their brains work. If done right, it’s about mutual respect and accepting the other, totally, for who they are. Mistress.”
“Good answer, sub, but you had your pronouns messed up. Who is the dominant here, today? What pronoun substitutes the dominant?”
“You are, Mistress, I’m sorry! ‘She’ is the dominant… Mistress.”
“And how am I going to help you learn that lesson today? What kind boundaries are we going to explore? I love virgins. Everything to learn. Here, Pet!”
She guides me to the middle of the room with a gentle finger on the middle of my back, guiding me by moving it left to nudge me right and vice versa. How do I know it’s the center of the room? At least I know I’m no longer standing naked in front of the door.
She walks off, leaving me standing naked, blind and vulnerable. And I hear things being shuffled. When she returns, she takes my arm and puts a suede-lined cuff, first on one wrist, and then the other. I hear chains rattling overhead. Oh, my god! Chains? And she lifts my arm and clips it to the chain. Again, on the other side. I’m now hung… and not in the good way.
She clips a cuff to my ankle, then a cuff to my other ankle. She pulls them out to the sides and clips them to chains on the floor. That tightens my arms and I can only barely put my feet down without standing on my tiptoes.
I have never been more naked in my life.
“You’re a chiropractor, right, Mistress?” Yes, I make jokes when I’m nervous. I’d hoped to solicit another chuckle, but instead I feel a finger on my lips.
A flash. She took a picture. Oh, no… she’s doing ITs bidding. Is she IT?
“Shhh… silence. You’re nervous and that joke was actually you trying to escape in your brain. I need you here – with me. Now. The only experience in this world is you and me. The only thing that matters. One hundred percent present.”
She walks behind me and wraps her arms around me, putting them on my belly then moving her fingernails up my chest and down as far as my wait. Of course, I’m reacting; in a ‘hard’ sort of way. “There is no world except this room. There are no concerns, no strike. There is only the feel of my hands touching you.” And she smacks my ass – hard! I hear it beforeI feel it – the nervous endings in my ass sending signals that my brain refuses to process immediately. I’ve never felt anything like that! “…however I choose to touch you.”
I grunt. Should have known something like that was coming.
She lets go. “…if I choose to touch you.” I hear her walk away, shuffle through something on the… table?… where she got the cuffs and then she Goes to the other side of the room to open and close a door. Is she leaving me like this? They say your other senses go acute when you’re deprived of one. They’re right. I can even hear the faint buzzing of the light overhead. There may be a fly in here.
“We’re going to take your best friend away. Today is not about him.”
Ohmigod! And suddenly I feel a huge pressure on my groin and horrific sensings! Am I being castrated? I scream until I feel a drop on my leg, then another. Blood? Water? Oh! that sensing was ice… she’s icing my dick, which is dutifullyretreating. Coward! I can’t describe what it felt like before I realized, though: the subconscious brain is powerful in changing sensing to meet expectation in absence of fact. But she’s icing me. I’ve read this… I know what comes next.
“Okay, Pet. You know that denial and control can be part of a dominant-submissive relationship. I know you said in your messages you’ve been denying yourself for me. Good boy. The drippy mess down here while I was tying you up proves you weren’t lying. But now, we’re just going to make sure…” And I feel a twisting in my balls, a sensing like something going around them, forcing them through one-by one. A snip and a click. I’ve been caged. That was both horrible and not so bad at the same time. My dick has retired so far back, I don’t feel any pressure, but I know that will come, later, when I try to get hard again. And it will try to get hard again.
Flash! Pictures.
“You’ve given me control, Pet. You’ve given me everything. Now it’s my choice and mine alone if you will ever be allowed to touch your beautiful dick again.”
“While we’re on the subject, I want you to note. My language. A pleasure domme is not about degradation.” She’s behind me again, running her hands up and down my body and moving closer to my ear, getting more and more quiet as she nears. “A pleasure domme is about sensing and support. It’s about affording words. Of course, it is still about ensuring humility in your sub, but humiliation and degradation are two different things. I humiliated you by having you stand in front of the window, stark naked. But I didn’t degrade you by calling you names. In fact, I told the honest truth when I had something positive to say. I whistled at you when you undressed – looking good, Pet – I called your dick beautiful…” and she wiggles the cock cage, which I have, indeed, already filled to the point of pain “…because it is. I’m disappointed that I am not playing with him today…
“Of course, if the sub likes degradation, indulge! You, your kink test answer was ‘1,’ so of course I’m not going to.
“…but you said… in your messages… denial. I’m going to leave you denied.” And she moves to the other ear “…and we don’t know for how long…”
“Note, though: I did say ‘sensation’ not just pleasure. It’s time that you fully experience submission. For some, submission is about pain and bearing it to please their dom. For some, it’s truly about enjoying the pain. For others, it is just sensing intensity… pain, pleasure: both edges on the same sword. What about for you, Pet?”
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