Blacmailer

Isn't it wonderful how when everything in life is going smoothly for you some idiot will come along and try to stuff it up and everything changes after that.

I had a decent job, a nice house and, until recently, a nice girlfriend. The decision to break up was mutual, and neither of us was particularly put out about it. Just one of those things. We wanted different things from life and had been growing apart, so the split was for the best.

That wasn't what I meant by a stuff up, either. I had this arrangement with an attractive little blonde who lived a few doors up. When I was between girlfriends we would occasionally get together for a little bit of discreet fun and games. It had to be discreet because she was married and her husband would have been pissed if our arrangement became common knowledge.

I should explain that her husband knows about our arrangement but politely ignores it, but it would have been rude to flaunt it. The reason that he ignores the deal was due to a car accident. The accident had left him unable to procreate, as he now lacked the equipment necessary for such a task. The insurance company, I believe, coughed up a nice little lump sum for the loss of his enjoyment of life. He's not short of a penny.

It was that little arrangement that someone decided to stuff around with. One evening there was a knock on my door and, when I answered, there was this pretty young woman standing there. She was a very pretty little thing and all my male hormones stood up for a closer look.

"Good evening," I said, smiling and willing to be sociable. "Can I help you?"

She gave me this very sweet smile and handed me an envelope.

"I'd like to discuss these with you, if I may?" she said, and her voice was as soft and smooth as honey.

I was smiling as I opened the envelope and still smiling, albeit a bit forced, when I invited her in to discuss the photos of me and my little blonde playmate. I escorted her into the front room and had her sit on the couch. I settled into a chair nearer the door and waited.

She waited for me to say something but I had no intention of doing so. The first to speak was the loser in a game like this. She lost.

"Do you like the photos?" she asked.

"Not particularly."

"I thought you might like to buy them. If you don't, I'm sure I can find another customer."

"Blackmail," I stated coldly.

"Being an entrepreneur," she corrected me.

"Blackmail," I repeated. "If I fork out for these pictures you'll be back next week with another set, demanding more money."

She shook her head.

"I wouldn't do that," she said earnestly. "I'll be quite happy with just a single payment."

She mentioned an amount and I blinked. Happy? She should be ecstatic.

"And what sort of guarantee have I that you won't be back for a second demand?"

"My word. I don't cheat my customers."

"Somehow I can't see your word being worth much. Blackmailers always lie. The chances are you've got copies stashed at your house and your parents will find them and let them out."

I had recognised her by now. Her name was Stella and she lived with her parents just a few doors down. I didn't know the family well, just enough to recognise them as neighbours. The delay in recognising Stella was due to her usually being sloppily dressed. Sloppily? Her clothes were generally not much above the throw-this-out stage. It was the first time I'd seen her done up as a young lady.

"I'm not an idiot," she told me. "I haven't printed any other copies and the file is in a safe place."

I noticed that she gripped her purse rather tightly when she mentioned the file. I was willing to bet that she had the photos on a memory stick in her purse, the idiot.

"It doesn't really matter," I said. "You're what? Sixteen, seventeen? You've probably already shown the damn thing to half your friends. I suspect our little secret is now probably known to half the neighbourhood."

"I'm nineteen," she snapped. "I'm not some loose mouthed child. Why the hell would I discuss these with anyone and let the secret get out? There's no profit in that."

"Because you're a woman," I snarled. "You wouldn't be able to resist showing off what you'd done to your best friend or to a boyfriend. Do you think I don't know how women love to gossip. You probably went over the whole damn bunch with a friend, sniggering at each photo."

"I did no such thing," Stella protested angrily. "Why would I jeopardise my sale that way. No-one knows."

"Really," I said, sounding extremely dubious. "And how did you justify you visit to me. Weren't your parents curious?"

"I didn't tell them," the idiot said airily. "I just said I was going for a walk."

"I see. So the situation as I see it is I pay you blackmail and you might or might not be back for a second dip. Alternatively, as no-one knows anything about this, you might just quietly disappear while out walking and no-one would know why. A mystery."

Stella went dead white. She looked at the door and saw that I was between her and it.

"You wouldn't dare," she whispered.

"Far cheaper that paying a nasty little blackmailer," I pointed out. "You'd be surprised at how often blackmailers tend to have lethal accidents. For instance, if you'd been stupid enough to show those photos to my love's husband, he'd have probably broken your neck to shut you up. He would have regretted it afterwards, but that wouldn't have helped you."

"The file," she said, with an edge of desperation. "If I disappear they may search for and find the file."

"The one in your purse," I asked affably. "I suspect that I'll find it first."

There were tears in her eyes and she looked scared stiff. Served her right. She scrabbled in her purse and whipped out a memory stick, shoving it towards me.

"Here, take it," she half screamed. "I'm sorry. I won't say anything. I swear it."

I reached over and relieved her of the memory stick.

"Thank you," I said. "I thought you might tend to start seeing things my way. For your information, you could publish those pictures and I wouldn't give a damn. Fiona might be embarrassed, and her husband would be pissed off, at you, but that's all the scandal would amount to. You are a complete idiot."

"Why at me. He'd come after you, wouldn't he?"

"Nah. We're friends. He knows what's going on. He was castrated in a car accident. He doesn't mind if Fiona has an occasional excursion. Keeps her happy and at home."

Stella was looking very woebegone.

"You're nineteen you say?"

She nodded. "Why?"

"It's just that I'd hate to think I was ravishing a minor," I told her.

"Wh-what?" she sort of shrieked.

"You come in here threatening to blackmail me out of a substantial sum of money. By all rights I should call the police and have you charged. I believe the jail term for blackmail can be as much as twenty years, but as a first offender I'm sure you'd get a lighter sentence.

However, if you throw yourself on the mercy of the court, things will go a lot easier. Especially if you're naked."

"If you try to touch me I'll scream. I'll tell the police you threatened me. I'd deny everything."

"As a matter of curiosity, how do you deny your fingerprints on the photos and the memory stick? Come to think of it, I wonder what else is on the memory stick?"

Jackpot. She blushed fiercely. There was something extra on the memory stick and she'd just remembered it.

"My, my. What a nice blush. Why don't I just take a look on this thing and see what's there."

"Don't. I said I'm sorry. Just let me go. And break the memory stick."

"I'd like to, but I have to make sure it's the right one," I pointed out.

Her face was white again. She'd pass out if she kept blushing and paling like that.

"Anyway, back to a suitable punishment for as fine a display of arrant stupidity it has ever been my privilege to watch. Have you any suggestions other than being ravished. Are you a virgin, by chance? That'll make it interesting."

She shook her head.

"Can't I get a second chance?" she asked.

"No. You screwed up and you can take a damn punishment. It might help you to think better of it next time you stick your neck on the block. Do you want to get undressed yourself or would you like me to help?"

"I can do it," she snapped, and there was that blush again as she realised that she'd just agreed to get undressed.

Hell. I had no intention of raping the girl. I just wanted to throw a scare into her and make her realise how dangerous blackmail could be. I'd fully expected her to crack, scream, and try for the door. I'd have watched her run, laughing. But watching her slowly strip off was an awful temptation.

She took her clothes off, slowly, giving me nervous glance after each item came off, as though hoping I'd tell her to stop. As far as I was concerned, if she was dumb enough to strip I'd let her and enjoy the show.

She stood there at the end, hands in front of her pussy, almost shivering with fright. I smiled at her.

"I'll tell you what. Seeing you're just a kid and almost a virgin I'll give you a choice. Instead of bending over the arm of the couch and waiting for me to ravish you, you can, if you prefer, bend over my knee and I will spank you."

She flared up at that. She apparently still had some spirit left in her.

"Nineteen is not a kid and what do you mean, almost a virgin? Either you are or you aren't."

"I bow to your wisdom," I told her. "Your choice?"

She was chewing on her lip slightly but I could see that she considered it a no-brainer. Spanked or raped? She'd take the spanking.

I moved over and sat on the couch. Stella shot a wistful look at the unimpeded doorway, but wasn't going to make a run for it while naked. I held out a hand and she edged over to me, muttering under her breath.

Across my knee she went and I started with a few light pats to her bottom, rubbing her bottom lightly between pats. She started to relax a little, although she was wriggling a little, obviously not quite comfortable. The little pats became somewhat firmer pats, and the bottom rubbing increased in proportion. And if my rubbing happened to touch onto the edges of her mound that wasn't really my fault. After all, it's a bit hard at times to say where the bottom end and the mound starts.

With the firmer pats came an increase in her wriggling. She was starting to squirm quite a bit, not that it really hampered the developing spanking. Still. . .

"Why are you wriggling?" I asked. "It's not as though you're getting severely beaten - yet."

"There's something digging into my side," she grumbled.

With that she reached back to push it aside. I was startled when her hand closed upon my erection, but not as startled as she was. She made a very odd sound and jerked her hand away again.

I laughed and resumed what I was doing. The pats were now turning into proper spanks that would have stung, but to compensate for that the rubbing I was doing was turning into a firm massage, and her mound was not exempt.

Stella was gasping and making feeble protesting noises, but her legs stayed parted and I could feel her pressing against my hand whenever it strayed there. Her lips were flushed and pouting, her pussy flowering under the attention, offering itself up for further attention.

Her bottom was lightly flushed from the spanking when I paused.

"Before I go on to a more serious beating I think it's only fair that you confirm your choice. Do you want to stay bent over my knee or would you rather bend over the end of the couch?"

"But if I bend over the couch you're going to rape me," Stella muttered.

"Oh, yes. I'll be ravishing you most enthusiastically," I murmured. "That nasty rod that was digging in your side will be digging into you here, instead."

There was a shocked squeak as I demonstrated where that nasty rod would go, my finger sliding between her lips and into her passage.

"Alright," she gasped. "I'll take the couch. Anything to bring this nightmare to a finish."

Nightmare, indeed. She was bent over the end of the couch so fast I was almost knocked over by the wind-stream. Then she was watching me with nervous anticipation plain on her face. Both her nervousness and her anticipation seemed to increase when I dropped my trousers.

Standing behind her I started rubbing my cock against her, sliding it along her slit, letting her feel it rubbing along her lips and pushing them slightly apart. She was breathing hard when I finally pressed the tip against her vulnerable entry, just leaning lightly against her.

"Not too late to go with the spanking," I murmured.

"No!" she said quickly.

"I mean, no, I agreed to this so I'll go ahead with it," she said carefully, wanting to ensure that I didn't think that she might actually want this.

Reaching around her I took her breasts, caressing them and teasing them, rubbing her nipples. Her very hard nipples that were quite enjoying the attention they were getting.

"If you're quite sure?"

Stella nodded. I don't think she could have spoken. I could feel her pussy pressing harder against me, wanting my erection to stop hovering and start doing its duty.

I pressed a little harder, sliding past her lips on the start of my journey of exploration. It was my intent to take Stella slowly, moving into her easily, giving her time to adjust to my invasion of her body. You know what they say about the best laid plans. Ha!

I'd barely started my penetration when Stella shrieked.

"Oh my god! You're really doing it," she wailed, at the same time pressing hard back against me, engulfing my entire erection with the strength of her push. So much for the gentle approach.

With a start like that what could I do but continue in the same vein? If I hadn't, Stella would have anyway. If ravishment was taking place I wouldn't lay any money on it being me doing the ravishing.

Stella was squealing her excitement right from the word go. She was pushing hard against me, eager to take me as deep as possible. She literally writhed under me, bottom bouncing while her breasts pushed hard against my hands, not wanting to be left out of the general excitement.

So my nice gentle loving went by the board, turned into a hard, fast and dynamic romp. I took Stella hard and she reciprocated, staying with me every inch of the way. We banged hard and we banged fast, with Stella giving loud vocal approval and wanting more of the same, which I did my modest best to provide.

I'd like to say we went on for ages, banging and enjoying ourselves, but it was all too violent and too much. I seemed ready to explode in nothing flat, and the only good thing about that was that Stella was going up in flames even faster. We climaxed, one after the other, hers the spur to mine.

Stella then sagged over the couch, totally spent, while I disengaged and tidied myself up.

Later, watching Stella slowly get dressed, I could see she was dispirited and oddly reluctant to leave.

"Stella, why did you try that silly little stunt," I asked quietly.

Her shoulders sagged a little.

"I wanted the money so I could leave home," she confessed. "Did you know my parents are junkies? I only have rags to wear. I'm always having to scrounge for food because all our money goes before the groceries are bought. Now my father says I'm old enough to help bring in more money, but I don't think much of his idea of work. I'm cutting out."

"The dress you've got on is quite nice," I pointed out.

"I stole it," she said blandly. "I walked into the shop and tried on several dresses, and when the saleswoman looked away I walked out wearing this one."

The upshot of our little conversation was that Stella moved into my spare room. Her parent didn't even bother coming around to see if she was OK.

I had to tell my little blonde that our arrangement would have to cease as someone else now knew about it, and I wouldn't want to cause her problems by letting the scandal get about. She didn't seem to worry. I strongly suspect that she has a couple more of those little arrangements running.

And yes, I'm serious when I say Stella has her own room. I even had to sleep in it one night because she was mad at me and wouldn't let me into my own room.