As I stepped into the office that morning, my thoughts were taken up with the belief that finally my torture of being blackmailed would be ending soon. Simon and John had promised to return the evidence of my wrongdoings, and I would finally be free from their orders of humiliation. As I sat at my desk my mind wandered back to some of the events of the last week – exposing myself at the buyers' fashion show, being forced to be a naked waitress at Simon's party, letting Phil fuck me on the tennis court. Each episode brought back a mixture of memories, a sense of humiliation combined with an amazing sexual buzz. I'd been forced to unleash a side to my sexuality that I never would have believed existed. I'd discovered that I enjoyed exposing myself to others, that I became turned on knowing that strangers were watching me. I realised that I'd almost regret the blackmail ending, but at least in the future I'd be more in control of my exhibitionism.
My thoughts were disrupted by the sound of my phone ringing. It was Simon, ‘Good morning Emma, John's been telling me all about the little party at his house last night – sounds fun. I was just wondering whether you'd mind stepping into my office for a second. There's something I'd like you to do for me.' My heart raced as I walked across the busy office to his room. He greeted me at the door and gestured that I should sit down on the sofa. He took me by surprise by offering me a coffee and chatting about the new season's sales figures. I'd expected the usual terse commands, but he was more amiable today, perhaps realising that he didn't need to be so authoritative – he knew I'd comply with whatever he asked me to do. We chatted for about ten minutes before he finally changed the subject. ‘Emma, I've been very pleased with your behaviour this week. You've done everything that John and I could ask of you. I even think you've enjoyed yourself to a certain extent. Now it seems a shame that such a mutually beneficial arrangement should end, so I've got a little proposal for you.' My mind raced with conflicting thoughts as he continued with his offer, ‘We're proposing that you will receive all of the evidence of your theft today. John and I will then no longer have any hold over you, and you are free to leave the arrangement whenever you want. However, since we seem to have a good thing going together we're proposing that we'll pay you £500 for each week that you're willing to continue as our subject.'
I was taken aback by his offer – the money would certainly help pay for my own living expenses and my mother's care home fees, but I'd basically be selling my body for sex. Should I accept their proposal or walk away free from their blackmail? He sensed my hesitation and said, ‘You don't need to make your decision now – you can take some time to think about it if you want. All that John and I ask is that you tell us by the end of the day.' I thanked him for giving me the time and began to get up from the sofa. ‘Hold on a second Emma, we're not quite through yet! I've not told you about today's little game have I?'
I walked out of Simon's office five minutes later panicking about what I had to do next. He'd asked me to accompany John and himself to a hospitality day being held by one of our suppliers at a nearby race course. Normally I'd have jumped at the prospect of spending a day sipping free champagne and watching the horses. It was always nice to escape from the office and do some networking. Today's offer would have been the same, apart from Simon's order that I could only go if I took off my bra and panties. Unfortunately I was only wearing a very thin yellow summery dress with a short hemline. When I returned from the ladies' toilets five minutes later, minus my underwear, I felt very exposed – only thin cotton separating my nakedness from the outside world.
The taxi journey to the race track was fairly eventful. I was sandwiched between John and Simon as we drove through the busy roads out of town. John seemed to particularly enjoy gently pulling the hem of my dress up - each mile we travelled he would tease it a little higher until eventually my pussy was exposed. I tried to pull it down, but he stopped me – forcing me to sit on my hands instead. As the three of us stared straight ahead John pulled my legs apart a little so that he could rub between my legs. His slow, almost tender, massage of my throbbing clitoris was too much and I whispered in his ear, begging him to stop. His laugh at my request was accompanied by more frantic massage, his rough fingers rubbing hard against my clit. I squeezed my legs together as I came, almost breaking John's wrist. I tried to stifle my gasps of pleasure, trying not to attract the attention of the taxi driver. I failed though, as he spoke, ‘Is everything alright miss?' He turned to face me, watching with a smile on his face as I tried desperately to pull down my dress. His eyes stared at my exposed pussy for a second or so and I could feel my face blushing with the embarrassment of what I'd done.