Phone Blacmail

Simon was the perfect gentleman towards me the day after my humiliation at the party. I'd dreaded going into work, worried about what he might say to me, and how he would treat me. I still couldn't believe what I'd done – performing an intimate sex act on his friend Nigel in front of a room full of strangers. I tried to rationalise my feelings of excitement at being made to perform the act with my deeper feelings of shame. Since my blackmail had begun I'd alternated between thoughts of revulsion and genuine sexual excitement.

It wasn't until just after three in the afternoon that Simon approached me with his next ordeal for me. 'Emma, how would you like to come and play some tennis at my club tonight? Carole from the Oxford Street store will be there – it might give you a chance to network a little.'

Resigning myself to the inevitable I replied, 'I guess so, but I haven't really got anything suitable to wear for tennis.' As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew that Simon would have planned for the event.

'That's OK, I've got an outfit for you to wear in my office. I'll just go and fetch it now.'

It was just after seven by the time my taxi pulled up to the tennis club in a leafy suburb of West London. I was clutching the bag that Simon had given me containing the skimpy outfit he wanted me to wear. In the changing rooms I spilled its contents onto the wooden slatted bench. Simon had selected an almost invisible thong that, from behind, left my entire bottom uncovered. The white skirt was pleated and very short, and the lycra bikini top was more like underwear than a suitable top for sport. I hurriedly changed into the clothes, checking out my reflection in the full length mirror. My nipples stood out through the thin material of the top, even my aureoles were prominent. The skirt left about the bottom third of my rear uncovered, showing off my bare ass cheeks. With a gulp of apprehension I walked round to one of the outside courts where we'd agreed to meet.

Simon greeted me with a hug, whispering his appreciation at the outfit in my ear. His hands casually felt my ass cheeks as he held his grip on me for a few seconds longer than felt comfortable. We were joined seconds later by Carole and Phil, an Australian friend of Simon's. She smiled at me, commenting on how nice I looked. I felt myself blushing, knowing how much of my body was on display. In contrast she was wearing a baggy polo shirt and jogging bottoms that covered much of her ample frame. We agreed to play mixed doubles, with me partnering Phil, and Carole matching up with Simon.

As Phil got ready to serve, I became aware of how much of my behind was exposed as I bent down to face the net. He would have been able to see most of my bottom and the thin strip of thong as I leant forward. I tried in vain to adjust my skirt, but it was no use – I'd just have to get used to it. As the game progressed it became obvious that we were the much stronger pairing. Carole had probably once been quite a good player, but she was a little too plump now to make any real difference around the court. Phil, who was friendly and helpful, turned out to be a very competent player, easily beating us all for pace and variety of shots. He seemed to enjoy coaching me, standing behind me showing me how to improve my shots. His arms reached around me, holding me close against his firm body.

We won the first set 6-2, and as we were having a drink Simon whispered to me, 'Go and take off your thong right now.' I was taken aback by the tone of his command, but I knew I would have to acquiesce. I made my excuses and slipped back to the changing rooms to step out of my panties. I was now naked under the short skirt. I returned to the court and we began the second set. I could sense my pussy lips throbbing between my legs as I bent forward on Phil's first serve. He seemed to take forever getting ready, and I knew that he was probably checking out my bare ass and partially exposed pussy. After the first point he came over to talk to me, 'Emma, do you realise you've forgotten to put your panties back on?'

I didn't imagine that he'd draw attention to my nakedness, and I needed to think up a quick excuse. 'Yes – I got them wet while I was going to the loo. I haven't got any spares. Is it OK with you?' He smiled and we continued with the game. The second set was even more one-sided than the first and we won 6-0. As we sat on the benches at the side of the court, Simon congratulated the two of us and offered to 'up the stakes'.

'I think we need to introduce make the game a bit more interesting for this final set, don't you? How about if we all agree to lose an item of clothing if we lose a service game – we're the only ones out on the courts now, so it'll just be between the four of us.' I expected Carole to be shocked at Simon's wild proposal, but she seemed the keenest to start the game. I knew I had to agree, and Phil seemed OK with the idea as well.

Phil served out his game easily, sending three aces blasting down the court to send Simon lunging along the baseline in vain. Carole got ready to serve next, and I responded aggressively to each of her weak, lolloping serves. Within a minute or so we'd won the game and she gamely took off her socks.

It was my turn to serve next and I knew what was at stake. I was only wearing my skirt, top and training shoes. I would have to win, or else! The first couple of points went my way, leading us to a 30-0 lead. Carole managed to return my next serve, and Phil for the first time in the game fluffed what was an easy backhand. Annoyed at Phil, I let my anger frustrate me and double-faulted on the next point. With the score at 30-30 I let the next serve rip down the court, Carole dived for her return and amazingly it came back over the net. Surprised that the ball had been returned I had to lunge to make my shot, only to see the ball skid of the rim of my racket into the net. I was break point down and needed to win the next point. I bounced the ball calmly on the service line, trying not to let Simon's jokey catcalls put me off. With a smooth movement I released the ball and smashed it as hard as I could straight towards Carole. She instinctively managed to play her backhand, and the ball shot towards Phil, waiting at the net. I knew he would be able to cope with the shot easily, but couldn't believe it when he seemed to almost deliberately volley the ball wide. We'd lost the game, and I had to take off an item of clothing.

Against my protests, Simon wouldn't let me count my trainers as an item of clothing, so I was faced with the choice between my skirt or top. With visibly shaking hands, I gripped the elasticised hemline of my top and pulled it over my head. Carole and Phil both let out a gasp as my pert breasts were exposed. Carole tried to make me feel a bit better, 'Don't worry Em, I'm not far behind, I don't stand a chance on my next serve.'

The next two games both went with serve, and both Phil and Simon could both remain fully dressed. As expected, Carole lost her game to love, and she was forced to take off her shirt, exposing her large, wobbly breasts in a plain white sports bra. With the game standing at 4-2 it was my turn to serve, and this time I was determined not to lose. Carole was equally determined with her returns, and I was shocked as the score quickly progressed to 15-40. I stood on the baseline with all sorts of thoughts running through my head, being topless now seemed no problem as I worried about having to take off my skirt. My first serve was poor, I hit it too long and now there was the chance of a double fault. Phil murmured some encouraging comments to me as I strode back to the baseline. A bizarre thought now entered my head, and I began to WANT to lose the next point. I imagined the sensation of unwrapping my skirt and revealing my pussy to Carole and Phil. The thought made me immediately very wet between my legs. I threw the ball into the air, and deliberately scuffed the shot, sending the ball whizzing into the net. Without a second thought I unbuttoned the skirt at the side and let it fall to the floor. The evening air felt lovely and cool against my naked skin. A spontaneous round of applause came from my fellow players, and I curtsied back in mock appreciation.

The next games passed in a blur – I ran around the court fully naked, enjoying the attention that I was getting from my three partners. As the light began to dim, Simon suggested that we finish and return to the club house. I was nervous about my state of undress now; worried that Simon would not allow me to get dressed again. My fears began to take shape as he strode towards me with my tennis outfit in his hands, a grin playing across his lips. He bent down to whisper in my ear, 'Emma, you can have your clothes back only if you agree to give us a 'show' here on the court.' I shook my head, refusing to believe what he had asked me to do. Simon shrugged and set off towards Carole and Phil, who were waiting by the gate out of the court. He still had my clothes and, yet again, I knew I would have to give in to his command.

Simon heard my shouted assent and started talking to the others. The twilight air now felt cold against my naked skin, and I could feel small goose bumps start to form. I felt very exposed out on the court and covered myself with my arms, a futile gesture but it made me feel more comfortable. As I waited, wondering what type of 'show' Simon wanted me to perform. I kept seeing Carole and Phil gazing over, their eyes taking in my lonely, naked body. Eventually the three of them came back over to me.

Carole spoke first, 'Emma, I've always had a bit of a 'thing' about watching other people have sex – Phil has offered to take part, are you OK with that?' I couldn't believe how calm she was about the making the offer. I nodded and the four of us made for a secluded grassy patch near the perimeter of the club. Simon asked me to lie down; letting me use Carole's top as a blanket. I lay back, holding my knees together in temporary modesty. Phil stripped off his shirt and shorts, revealing an athletic, tanned torso. At least my experience might be pleasurable in one way – he was very attractive. Carole sat down near my face, her hands already inside her pants, rubbing furiously at her pussy. Her large breasts jiggled with her motion, straining to free themselves from her bra. As he pulled down his briefs, Phil's cock sprang free – it was long and thin, erect and ready to take me. He gently prised my knees apart and knelt between my legs. I closed my eyes and waited for him to begin.

The combination of Phil's gentle kisses on my face and erect nipples with Carole's noisy murmurings of pleasure made me wet very quickly. Phil could sense my increasing ardour, and he carefully slipped his stiff cock inside me. His hard thrusts transported me to another world, taking me away from the humiliation of being fucked by a stranger in the outdoors. Within minutes I came, thrusting my slim hips against his, squealing with pleasure at the sensations washing over me. Phil came seconds later, collapsing into my arms as his cum squirted deep inside me. He held me and kissed my neck and ears, reassuring me about how good the experience had been. When I opened my eyes I could see Carole still frantically rubbing her clit. As soon as she noticed my gaze she came as well – a long hard orgasm that seemed to last forever.

I looked around for Simon. He was sitting a couple of yards away, nodding his head in appreciation at the scene in front of him. He winked and smiled when he saw me looking. I felt myself blush uncontrollably at his obvious approval of my wanton behaviour. I had done as I had been ordered and wondered what tomorrow might hold for me...