The Anonymous Blackmailer Ch 6
Dommed if I don't, pt 1: it all comes to a head. But whose?
Β© 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. Eve has been forced to display herself provocatively at work. And Terry was forced into a scene with a dominatrix which the blackmailer had arranged, but who also was training him on how to do D/S scenes while she's made him submit. Eve was forced to perform naked, and humiliate herself at a strip club in front of Terry and the entire audience. They are both terrified about what's coming next, while intensely worried about who's blackmailing them, why and what will become of them.]
*Saturday*
I thought Tuesday and Wednesday were brutal, but today... My life is ending.
I'm staring at the text in disbelief: IT has ordered me to tie Sandy in a chair with bondage gear tonight and fuck Eve in front of her. Sandy is the one redeeming bit of my life from before this ordeal: the love I was going to take to my grave.
And now IT is going to destroy that too.
IT is our blackmailer: Eve and I are being blackmailed to do dangerous, sexual things. We call the blackmailer 'IT' since that dehumanizes the scumbag. Not a he, not a she, but a thing.
I am to rearrange the house surveillance cameras around the living room to catch all the details from every angle. The chair Sandy will be in. The door Eve will be coming through. The couch and chair where I am to dominate and fuck her. Everything exactly in its place. IT tells me to bring lights from my studio to place in different positions around the room... But only after Sandy is tied and blindfolded. IT has access to my cameras. And computers. And cellphone.
And I'm convinced IT's in my brain.
Maybe IT is a creepy porn production site? Maybe the whole point of this is to make an amateur porn video that's hyper-realistic: because it's real.
No, calm down. That's an overactive imagination talking. It's not going there, I assure myself. But will there ever be an end?
A malevolent AI? A secret society? That's the stuff of science fiction. An alter-ego Jekyll-Hyde personality I've repressed from myself?
Some sick fuck who's getting his rocks off by doing this to us. Some hyper-dominant personality? Could it be Mistress Kara? She had secret-society tattoos, didn't she?
And why (
oh, why
) do I have to drag Sandy into this?
I beg IT to leave her out of it. But I only get pictures in reply which were taken out of the footage from the security camera in my living room. Pictures like her fucking me cowgirl, her breasts suspended in midair as she was on a downstroke and with an adorable goofy face caught in the millisecond of that frame. A picture of her fondling her nipples, passion in her eyes, as I was going down on her. Then another, later that session, her back arched, her arms holding the back of the couch as she came, a look of ecstasy encompassing her face. Picture after picture. Half of these were taken before I even knew about IT - already too late by the time I found out.
"she alredy is invlved up to her tits <eyeballs> u cant stop this <stopsign>"
"figur out how to jus go wit it <green light>"
So, yeah, apparently, I have no choice.
I was trained by ITs diabolical machinations, day-before-yesterday, as a dom. But Sandy has no idea.
IT showed me her tastes after hacking her account on my computer. She likes the fantasy where a lover is cuckqueaned. Sandy, my girlfriend, has never admitted that to me. Nothing. I thought she was straight-and-narrow.
She has no idea I'm anything but vanilla either, despite always having been kinked in my head. I'm now ashamed to admit that we never talked about it. Neither of us. I guess we each were afraid of what the other person might think. But tonight, best case: it might - just might - be a nice adventure: a turning point in our journey to understand each other more deeply.
Or, worst case: it might be just fantasy for her, but nothing she would ever, ever want to do in real life and she'll get pissed and leave me forever.
I feel terrified and awful. Yes, I've been cheating with Eve. Is it 'cheating' when someone makes you do it? I don't know, but I did it and Sandy doesn't know, so it feels like cheating.
It feels like cheating no matter what.
And Eve... I think I have feelings for her. I realize, happily, they don't change my feelings for Sandy. I just have something completely different with Eve. But probably only until this blackmail ends, however it ends.
How will this blackmail end? I'm inured to that question by now. My future is not in my hands. IT has all the cards. I can't do anything now except roll with it. So, damn it all, I'm going to roll.
Which first means screwing my head on straight. If I'm the dominant tonight, I've damn well got to act like a dominant. In that headspace, Sandy will be my sub and Eve is my other sub. Maybe Sandy could be the alpha sub? Would that help?
I'm introducing them and Sandy is just going to have to understand that that's the way it is - I have another - at least for this scene. It won't be Sandy's fantasy if I don't make it feel real and to do that, it just has to
be
real.
I spend the morning watching videos and practicing in my head. Watching Sandy's favorites again, three times each, helps, then I pull a few of my own. I open Literotica and read a couple stories while playing that rich guy BDSM movie that Sandy liked in the background. I've got to get the technique and the mien - the assertive confidence - down. There's no turning back anymore, so I have to make the go-forward work.
I smash the terror I feel into a little box in my head, bind it with shipping tape and discard it in the back of my skull.
Having spent Thursday submitting, it's a hard transition to go from my first subspace one day to - is it a word? - domspace the next.
In the afternoon, I go out to lunch, then to the studio to collect stuff. I get home and set to wrapping packages, again taming my nervousness. I am a dominant. I am in control!
I rehearse the possible options of the many ways that tonight might go. Sandy will be here at five. Eve will be here at seven. I remove the damn cock cage and happily, hear no correction from IT.