Blacmailed Exhibitionist

The Blackmailed Exhibitionist

Part 3

by G. Lawrence

An adventurous young woman's most daring streak yet

24-year-old Tracy Anders had fantasized about exhibitionist adventures but lacked the courage to do them on her own. After reading stories online, she recruited her best friend to compile blackmail evidence that would force her to live out her dream. The first two missions did not go well. What will happen this time? All characters are over 18 years old. Note: This story has sat in Literotica's pending file for a week without explanation. This is a resubmission.

Chapter Three

The Assignments Get Harder

"Here's your new assignment," Donna announced during our Wednesday lunch at Racoon's. The small downtown diner used by professional businesspeople was bustling, the wine excellent and pastry better. Donna was very excited. "We're going to streak the mall."

"That's done a lot," I dismissed.

"Not this one," Donna said.

"What mall were you thinking about?" I asked.

"Sandusky."

"Sandusky? That's a very big mall. It takes half an hour just to walk."

"But only seven minutes if you run. I'll be outside the exit with the motor running."

"A lot of people will see me. Up close. Maybe hundreds!"

"You'll be moving fast, and they won't be expecting anything. By the time they pay attention, you'll be gone."

"I don't know. It sounds dangerous," I worried.

"Say you'll do it. I have an idea to make it even more exciting."

"What's that?"

"I'll tell you when the mission starts. Is Saturday okay?"

"You know Saturday crowds are too big. Friday morning?"

"Friday afternoon," she generously compromised.

"Friday afternoon, then. This better be a good plan."

"Oh, it is," Donna assured me, sounding pleased.

* * * * * *

We arrived at the mall just before four o'clock, parking in the huge lot. Usually a quiet time in the late afternoon. Donna parked outside the south entrance and walked in with me. Shopping at this end of the 40-year-old suburban mall was light.

"Remember, the mall has two wings at the ends, this one and the north side, with all of the small stores in the middle," Donna explained. "I'll be parked outside the exit with the door open. Just jump in and we'll take off if anyone is chasing you. I put a shower cap over my license plate so no one can read the numbers." She laughed at that.

We were twenty feet inside the south wing entrance, with a game store to the left, a furniture store behind us, and a few boutiques scattered around. At the junction, a right turn accessed the main strip. I would run about eighty yards along the ground floor. Two more floors rose above me. Toward the end of the mall, I could go straight into Macy's or make another right turn through the north wing into the parking lot. I did not want to go into Macy's.

We crept up to the shoe store, peering around the corner. The main mall was easily seen. We backed up into an empty niche that once held a pay telephone, now long gone.

"It doesn't look too bad," I hopefully said.

"Just like I told you. A milk run," Donna eagerly encouraged. "Now let's get you out of those clothes. We'll leave them here in the alcove in case you need them."

I ducked back into the niche and slowly took off my shorts, t-shirt, and sandals. I had not worn underwear in case everything got lost, like it had at the lake. Donna put them in a paper bag and placed them on a shelf, enjoying the sight of me standing there completely nude. In public. Near hundreds of people. While Donna was taller, attractive but stocky, I was 5'4, 112 pounds, with nice firm tits, a slim waste, and an athletic figure. Donna had wanted me to wax my bush, but I refused, not wanting my clit on display during my forays.

"So perky," she whispered, her hot breath on my breasts. She sounded more like my mistress than my partner.

"Give me about ten minutes to move the car," she said. "Oh, I almost forgot. I promised to add an extra element to the challenge."

"Yes, but you won't tell me what it is. Am I supposed to shout something? Grab brochures from a store?"

"No, grabbing brochures will be hard this time," she answered.

Before I realized what she was doing, I was spun around facing the wall, my arms were pulled back, and she handcuffed me! I fought like crazy, tempted to scream.

"Donna! What the fuck?" I sputtered.

"This should provide an extra element of danger," she chuckled.

"Please, no. Please don't do this. It's too much," I begged.

"My job is to push you to ever greater challenges. Now wait ten minutes and run like hell." She kissed me lightly on the forehead and headed for the parking lot, leaving me alone.

The handcuffs don't matter, I hoped. If I move fast enough, they will just be an added thrill for the voyeurs. Happily, there was a big clock on the wall. It read 4:10. I returned my attention to the shoppers, looking for patterns. And security. Everything seemed peaceful. Thank goodness. This was by far my most stressful mission yet, with no room for error. My heart was beating like a drum. Fear had a death grip on my spine. For a moment, I could hardly breathe, but Donna was gone, and I was handcuffed. There was no turning back. Just like she planned.

I maintained my watch for what I thought was ten minutes and then looked at the clock again. It still read 4:10! The damn thing was broken! I decided to go, hoping Donna was in position, and stepped out into the main promenade. As I had learned, I started walking slow and easy. No rapid movement to attract attention. It worked until someone passed me and turned around with a shocked look.

"Damn, girl. What's this?" the middle-aged man muttered, looking at my handcuffed ass. It caused two shoppers standing before a window to glance in my direction, mouths open. And then a teenage girl shouted.

"Look, mom, she's naked!"

I burst into a sprint, passing stores I'd once shopped in. Big windows. Open doors. Clothing shops. Jewelry. Cosmetics. There were scores of customers. Bright lights everywhere. My mind became a blur, shutting out the noise to focus on my route. Many stopped to stare. No one tried to block me. The north wing was coming up fast. There were more people there, but they were facing toward the wing accessing the parking lot. I could blow past them, and if a door wasn't open, I'd use my shoulder to push one. Another minute at most and I'd be in Donna's car trying to get my heart started again.

I brushed past two men in suits, and then a group of old ladies, beginning to make my final turn. And then I stopped cold.

"What the fuck?" I groaned.

The entire north wing was filled with a midsummer jamboree. Banners indicated the local junior college's marching band with fifes and drums. Choral groups. A barbershop quartet. I saw students, parents, curious shoppers, and security. At least four or five hundred people. Maybe a thousand. A long stage draped in blue bunting blocked the exit. There was no way to reach the doors. And I was standing there on full display, tits jiggling and knees pressed together. I looked around frantically for a way to escape.

"What the hell?" someone shouted, pointing in my direction.

"What is she doing?" a shocked woman screamed.

They all turned to look at me. All of them. And the security detail. I did an about-face and sprinted back the way I came, hoping to reach the south doors. If I could get to the parking lot, maybe I could lose my pursuit in the trees beyond.

I heard lots of noise behind me.

"How dare she?"

"Stop her!"

"Grab her!"

"Arrest her!"

A young man suggested something far less gallant.

I had the early lead, being fast, running past those I'd seen earlier. Now I knew why the south end of the mall was so deserted. Most had been drawn to the recital. I was breathing hard. Trying to think and not panic. Nevertheless, desperate.

I passed the niche where my clothes had been, and of course, they were gone. The south side doors loomed straight ahead. I put on a final burst of speed, going into the center door shoulder first. And bounced back. Not sure if I was injured, I got up to look. Someone had wrapped a heavy cord around the outside handles. I couldn't open them from the inside.

With only seconds to think, I looked around. The game store was too obvious. There was no time to backtrack. I cut left into the furniture store, finding a young clerk behind the counter. He was a freckled red-headed fellow about my age.

"Please, you need to help me," I begged.

"Cops?" he asked. "You're not shoplifting, are you?"

"Goddamn it, do I look like I'm shoplifting! I'm naked!" I shouted.

"Quick, over here," he said, jumping over the counter to the sales floor. He took me to the rear wall where free-standing wardrobe closets were on sale.

"Jump in," he said, opening the door. I leaped. He slammed it shut. I heard chaos burst into the store behind us.

"Where is she?" a man asked, out of breath.

"Who?" the clerk answered.

"A woman. Did you see a woman?"

"No, officer, I haven't seen anyone. What does she look like?" the youngster lied.

"She's nude, you idiot," another barked.

"A nude girl, sir? I think I would remember a nude girl," he said. "Have you checked the game shop? They lose bets and get naked over there all the time."

Despite what the young man said, I heard tramping and grumbling as the store was searched. The oak cabinet where I stood was six feet tall, two feet wide, and eighteen inches deep. The door was solid, but the sides had screened vents high up to provide circulation. I felt something bump the door, almost ready to wet myself, and then there was a clicking sound. A face appeared in the vent.

"Don't worry," the young man whispered. "They won't find you. I padlocked the door."

"What are you doing over there?" a voice of authority said.

"Nothing, sir," the clerk said. "Just securing the merchandise."

After twenty minutes or so, it seemed to quiet down.

"Hello? Hello?" I softly said.

I looked up to see a face appear in the vent again.

"Miss, my name is Lenny. You need to be quiet; they've called the police department."

I squeezed down, sitting on my bare butt with my knees bent, and started to cry. I didn't want to make noise; I just couldn't help it. It also gave me time to think. Donna had led me here without mentioning the event blocking my escape. She handcuffed me at the last second. My clothes were gone, and the exit doors had mysteriously been tied shut. If she had driven to the north side of the mall, she certainly would have seen the huge crowd and come back for me. And she hadn't. Why? It was creating unwanted suspicions.

I was sniffling when the cabinet door softly opened. Lenny helped me up.

"Is it safe to leave?" I asked.

"Oh, God, no. It's a zoo out there. They are going door to door and will be back soon," he answered. "You can't be making so much noise. I'll lose my job."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"I'm sorry, too. Do you want me to let you out? Turn you over to the cops?" he asked.

"No, I don't want that," I replied.

"Then I'm sorry, too. I got this from the sex shop across the way." With a quick move, he had a ball gag in my mouth, pulling the straps tight around my head. "I am really sorry. My mom needs the money I make here. I can't afford to be fired."

I mumbled nonsense, not able to believe this was happening. Then he raised his phone, took about five pictures, and shut the door. I heard the padlock click shut.

There wasn't any way to know how many hours I was trapped in that damn wooden box. I slumped down again, lacking the strength to stand. A drink of water would have been nice. I finally realized Lenny was waiting for the mall to close at 8 o'clock. Needless to say, I was miserable, but at least the police weren't perp walking me before cameras in handcuffs. In the middle of a giant mall. Before thousands of people. While everyone took pictures. Oh, my gosh, I needed to press my legs together to suppress the unwanted excitement.

Everything finally died down. Lenny opened the door and removed the gag. I saw the store had closed; the lighting softened.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked.

"Water?"

"Oh, jeez, I completely forgot."

He ran off, back in seconds helping me drink the entire bottle. I would need to pee soon.

"What's going on outside?" I wondered.

"The cops gave up a few hours ago, but people kept lingering around, thinking you were hiding under a counter or behind a coat rack."

"Thank you so much," I gratefully said.

"Don't thank me too fast," he warned. "There's bad news."

"What do you mean?" I shakily asked.

"The photos I took of you went viral, and calls started coming in," he replied. "I've sold you to white slavers. My family needs the money."

Tears suddenly poured from my eyes, the world spun around, and I felt myself falling to the floor.

I woke up ten minutes later lying on a cot in the back room. Lenny was kneeling next to me, his eyes red from crying. The handcuffs were gone. I was covered with a fleece blanket.

"I'm sorry," Lenny said. "So, so sorry. It was a bad joke. But this day has been hard for me, too. I kept seeing myself getting fired. Being arrested as an accomplice. I thought my life would be ruined."

I allowed Lenny to help me sit up, took his face in both hands, and gave him a loving kiss. The kid came through for me in the only way he knew how, at great risk to himself. I would never ask for more.

"Any chance you can give me a ride home?" I requested.

* * * * * *

"That was awful," I said, thankfully closing my apartment door after Lenny dropped me off.

He'd given me a bright red Six Flags sweatshirt to wear. He was actually very nice.

Having her own key, Donna was waiting for me at the kitchen table, drinking a bottle of red wine.

"It didn't go as we planned," Donna admitted.

"That part is true. Did it go as you planned?" I asked.

"What are you saying?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

"I tried to return, but the parking lot had traffic cones everywhere. By the time I parked and got back in, I had no idea where you were."

"No problem with ropes tying the doors closed?"

"You're talking strange. What happened?" she questioned.

"When I turned the corner, there was some kind of musical event, with thousands of people. They saw me. Security guards saw me. Everybody saw me. I ran in the other direction and found the doors wouldn't open. I barely managed to duck into a furniture store."

"Branson's?"

"How did you know?"

"I wandered in while the search was going on. Didn't the security guards follow you?"

"They tried. I evaded them in the nick of time. A young guy behind the counter helped me."

"How?"

"He hid me in a cabinet. For four hours. Naked and handcuffed. And gagged."

"But you did escape, and came home with a nice sweater, so all's well that ends well," Donna observed. "Were you hiding in the Model #710? The fancy oak wardrobe?"

"How did you know that?"

"It was the only floor model with a padlock on it. I almost bought the damn thing. And would have, if I'd known you were locked inside. I'm sure they deliver." Donna laughed.

"Not really funny, Donna. It was terrible. I am never doing this shit again."

"Oh, I think you will, Tracy. I think you'll be doing this a lot," she smugly said.

"What do you mean?"

"You started this game. It wasn't my idea. But now that we've started, I want to play. It's terrific fun. I'm really looking forward to the next challenge," she replied.

"I just said that was enough. I don't want to do it anymore," I insisted.

"It's not your decision," she answered.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I said.

"If you try to quit, I'll send those photos we took. Really sickening photos. To everyone," Donna warned, opening her laptop. "I'll send them to your family. To your friends. Your co-workers. They will go viral on the internet. You will be the most famous slut in America. Shall I send them now?"

"Wait! No! No, don't," I shouted, jumping up. I stared at her, hardly able to believe my best friend would do this to me. Was she teasing? After the day I'd had, I was in no mood for jokes.

"Let me be clear," Donna continued with a frown. "You love those stories on the internet where young women are blackmailed into exhibitionist adventures. Manipulated against their will by voyeuristic masterminds. And that is exactly what you wanted, even letting me take those god-awful pictures of you as leverage."

"Yes, that was true," I admitted.

"And because you were almost caught in the mall, you want to quit?"

"Yes, I ran like hell. If I'd been caught, it would have been the most humiliating moment of my life. I spent hours trapped in a box. Handcuffed and gagged. Lenny was only joking, but when he threatened to sell me to white slavers, I fainted."

Donna paused, gazing at me, as if trying to reach a decision. Her expression changed, no longer the concerned confidant. It was like a mask had fallen away. She had the biggest grin.

"That was the best part of the day," Donna said, clapping her hands. "So far, I've managed to stay in the shadows, but I've been there to watch all of your exploits. Seeing you hanging off the end of that pier all naked and cold at the lake was priceless. I stood right above you for an hour drinking beer while flirting with several good-looking girls."

"You can't be serious."

Donna brought up new photos on her laptop. The first was me leaving the city park and not finding her car waiting for me. "I parked around the corner and took photos of you from across the street. Your expression is just wonderful. So surprised and dismayed. I especially liked it when you sat down on the sidewalk and cried."

Photos from the lake challenge came up. "I never went for a boat. It was junked years ago. I did pay the busboy to steal your clothes from under the dumpster. And I knew all about the midnight concert, which is why I scheduled the run for exactly that hour. But you never bothered to research it yourself. You let me do all the work. And while you were freezing on that landing, I checked into a lovely beachfront hotel for a nice warm bath. The same thing happened today at the mall. The recital was announced weeks ago, you just didn't care enough to check it out for yourself, leaving me in charge of the details. Snapping those handcuffs on your helpless naked ass at the last second was so arousing. I got wet watching you running so cluelessly into my trap." She laughed like a maniacal cartoon villain, her green eyes lit up with sheer delight.

More photos, and there I was, bursting into the recital with an agonized look on my face. Video of me running away with closeups of my butt. Video of outraged spectators yelling. And photos of Donna standing outside the oak cabinet in the furniture store where I was cowering.

"It was my idea to have Lenny gag you," she boasted. "He didn't know about me setting you up, but when you kept crying, I convinced him it was a good idea. Especially when I said he should take pictures. By then the police were long gone, so I made extra noise to keep up the charade. Knowing you were cringing right there on the other side of that wooden door, stranded and humiliated. Oh, God, it's still an incredible turn-on just to think about." She bent over as if experiencing a wave of sexual pleasure. "I told Lenny he could make you exchange sex to get out of the cabinet, the more degrading the better. He seems to have passed on that."

"Okay, you had your fun," I unhappily conceded. "I was naive and stupid, letting my fantasies get out of control. But you're kidding about the rest of this. Aren't you?"

"Let me show you how much I'm kidding," Donna replied, opening the computer again. I watched a montage of disgusting sex photos Donna had taken. The worst were made in the bondage dungeon, apparently after I passed out. My incoherent body had been posed in the lewdest ways I could imagine. Mistress Rolanda and two men in leather outfits hovered over me. Grinning. Bending my naked body to their will. Twisting my nipples. Spreading my legs. Spanking my ass. Doing things I would have never permitted if I'd been conscious. There was no aspect of my womanhood that was left secret.