The Anonymous Blackmailer Ch 02

The Anonymous Blackmailer Ch 2

The blackmailer forces Eve to risk her professional reputation

[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. They are both terrified about what's coming next, but intensely curious about who's blackmailing them and why.]

*Tuesday*

Fortunately, my husband, Ben, is sound asleep when I sneak in the front door, so thankfully I don't have to explain my disheveled clothes from the encounter in the park with Terry.

This whole thing has been terrifying.

Terry Myles - who would've thought? I fucking love his work and now I've cum on his face. I fucking loved sucking his cock. What a weird world...

Who the hell is this blackmailer? IT, we call him or her. Because IT has depersonalized us, we depersonalize IT.

I run to the shower and clean myself as quick as I can - I don't know if I might smell or something, but I don't want Ben getting suspicious. My clothes get tucked inside-out at the bottom of the laundry so it's not obvious they're caked with dirt from the park.... and other fluids.

Note to self: do the laundry ASAP!

Cleaned, but still shaking, I sit down at my laptop to see what other depravities my persona has committed while I was out. Gratefully, the blackmailer doesn't seem to have been active getting me deeper and deeper into shit. I wish I knew more about these computers: I really have no idea what I can do at this point to save myself. I can't tell my husband - if he doesn't believe me, I'm cooked. And now the blackmailer has real pictures of me with Terry.

If Ben even remotely believes me, it still won't be good. He's a goody-two-shoes - he'll tell me to go to the FBI or something. I've seen what that looks like: I don't trust the authorities like Ben does. My cousin had her identity stolen and she got put in jail for a week before they could prove she was the victim. It would more likely go down bad for me, and end our relationship, everything I've built, my career... I could go to jail.

I crawl into bed with my husband, feeling guilty that I'm exposing him, too, since the blackmailer can see everything through the house and computer cameras. Ben snuggles up to me, his cock hard.

And I feel super guilty that I just cheated on him. It wasn't my fault, but it was me. I love Ben. He deserves better.

I deserve better.

But I'd been bracing for... something... all week. Since this started. I am already beyond numb to the emotions: this blackmail has torn me apart. Ben is collateral damage in this and at this point, I've vowed to just do what I have to do to protect him.

He makes a contented noise and his eyes flutter open; he looks at me, smiling. Oh dear, I guess he's not completely asleep.

Fuck. The blackmailer won't let me cum, but I have to keep Ben from being suspicious. I moan seductively... at least I hope it sounds seductive: there's a tremor in my voice that I think I hear in my moan, but I keep going anyway and kiss down his body. Ben's had more blowjobs in the last week than in the last three months, combined, and this just has to seem like I mean it. He cooperatively rolls onto his back.

"Baby, I need your cock in my mouth. I want it. It's been driving me crazy lately. I'm so obsessed with it."

And for the second time tonight, I kiss, tease, and lick a man's cock to my will. He moans and starts running his hands through my hair as I take him in. He gets louder and starts moving his hips, grabbing my head and controlling how deep I take him. And again and again he pushes my head down, making me take him deeper, as he whispers how sexy I am and how much he loves it. I moan and he moans and then he starts to force me to deepthroat him. He's getting emboldened by my newfound infatuation with his cock.

And, to be honest, I think it's hot to have him control me like this. Being forced by IT, being denied for a week, being encouraged by Ben. It all brings a cramping passion to my very core.

There's a part of me I've repressed. A part of me that likes being submissive; there's a part of me that finds a thrill in being out of control. Ben is so vanilla that I could bottle him. I've never been in a position to live out my submission fantasies - I just do what I can in life and move along. But, the time in the park with Terry - sucking a stranger's cock! Being ordered what to do with no choice. Begging him to eat me out. Being naked in public without control, without safety. It was so fucking erotic. My denied pussy is even now dripping just thinking of it.

I am sucking Ben more passionately thinking about Terry and the blackmailer. What's wrong with me? I gag a bit on his cock.

I have never let this side of me out. If Ben ever saw that in me, it would destroy our marital dynamic. How can you respect someone who wants to submit to you? I'd pushed my desires so deep that I didn't think I'd ever have to deal with them again, but this shit with IT... it's come to the surface like lava from an erupting volcano. I'm horny all the time. It scares me, but some part of me likes it, if I'm honest with myself.

Ben shivers and cums deep in my throat. I cough to make sure it goes down the right pipe, swallow, then clean Ben off, sucking out the last of his salty seed, then kiss him hard, showing him the passion I have for him. I love my husband. Why is this happening to me? To us?

I am loving giving him blowjobs so much more now for some reason. I am loving the deep throat. If I could only jill off when I'm doing it, it would be so good.

Ben moans "oh, baby, that was so good!" He laughs and says, "your turn!" flipping me onto my back.

Oh, no... I can't let IT catch me cumming. I want Ben so bad - and he's still trying to go down on me - but I push him away and say, "No, not right now, love. I'm enjoying denying myself. Don't you like what it does to me?"

"But... I want it for you, baby!" And he kisses down my chest. He's getting more and more insistent each night ever since I've given him BJ heaven. I don't know if it's because it's making him feel hot too or if he's just feeling guilty and selfish.

"Oh yikes! I have to go pee, baby!" I jump out of bed and run into the bathroom, locking the door. Now I'm running out of excuses. Maybe I can tell him I went onto my period... for a month or two? Maybe I can fake a UTI? How do I manage this?

As I sit on the throne, I think about Terry. I think about his handsome face looking up at me from between my legs in the cold, dark park. I saw fear in them, but also excitement. He's turned on by this too, and that makes me more turned on.

Crap! I realize I am touching myself, but I force myself to stop. I don't know how... but I'm sure he - no, 'IT' - would know if I made myself cum. IT has already known stuff that makes me think of a ghost watching my every move. I want to risk it, but, no, I'll just tough it out. I've been withholding all week; I can do it again.

I whine to myself and wait until I think Ben might be dozing, then go out to our bed and sneak under the covers, curled up in a ball next to him. Fortunately, he leaves me alone tonight after a few pecks on the back of my neck.

Fuck - I had no choice, but I was unfaithful to husband. I cheated. I don't know what to do about this, and I have no one to talk to.

I try to separate my actions through some act of mental will. Actors can be married but have sex with other people for their job, right? Is it like that? Polyamorous people choose to have multiple partners. And even though Ben and I haven't agreed to this, I realize that I've already made rules like in a poly relationship in my head - starting with: Ben is my one-and-only and Terry is only a just-for-fun dalliance.

It's not a good answer, but it's all I've got. Life is compromise.

I set it aside and try to get to sleep despite that horrible itching need between my legs.

--

*Wednesday*

Ben wakes up before me and leaves while I sleep in until the very last alarm possible. Then I rush through my morning regime. It is so hard not to touch myself. As it has been every day since this started, I wake up in an almost feverish desire to get off. Somehow by the light of day, things seem better - just like Terry paints when he does the happy, light style.

Shit.

Terry.

I have his phone number now from the group chat. Should I text him? Does IT have my cellphone bugged too? What would I say, anyway? "Thanks for last night"? Ouch!

I text Ben, "I love you, honey. Have a great day!"

How can I do this? How can I be so blithe? It's like covering up an affair... but one I didn't want to have.

Or did I?

I relive for a moment how incredibly turned on I've been through all this. Of course, self-denial intensifies everything. And it's Terry Myles! My god!

As I'm leaving for work, I get in the elevator and my phone beeps.

Oh, no. Terror rushes through my body as I look to see what "Jackme Massage" - the blackmailer's latest attempt to be funny with his callerID spoofing - has to say. I lean against the wall of the elevator and steady myself, then open the text.

"yr being a rly good grl for me, arnt u <head with halo> did Ben like cumming down yr throte <spray> Did u like it <upside-down grinning face> i did <hysterical face> want mor <spray><spray><spray> yr goig be a rl bad grl for me <devil face>"

"take off yr panteis and leev in trash by xit <trash can>"

Fuck! I don't have any time. I pull them off quickly hoping the elevator doesn't stop midway down. When I do get them off, I wad them in a tight ball in my fist, just as the lobby floor opens to me. On the way out of the building, I drop them in the garbage can by the exit.

IT's making me wear short skirts, tight blouses and now I don't have panties. I'm so exposed that I flush with embarrassment.

But I feel moisture between my legs. I'm also so turned on.

I get to work and it's a relatively normal day, save that I'm constantly tormented by the thought of how exposed I am; the thought of what happened last night and what might happen tonight; the sexual tension tied up in my denial. It has me perpetually on edge. I have to visit the ladies' room three times just in the morning to wipe myself so I don't make a mess at my desk. It feels like everyone around me knows my secrets. It feels like they can already see my wet pussy like I wasn't wearing a skirt.

I'm so alone.

Except for Terry. Fuck... I can't shake the feeling: I feel close to him. Too close. It's like he's the only man in the world who can understand me and everyone else is from some horrible simulation. Ben is a good thing in the simulation, sure, but Terry is a whole other thing. He's really good looking and he's a fucking visionary in his art. He'll be remembered for generations - like Dali or Van Gogh. Ben... Ben doesn't know what we're going through. I love Ben and he loves me but in this new reality, Ben is an NPC.

I have to make rounds after lunch - I have three doctors to visit. Pharmaceutical sales is thirty percent knowing my stuff and seventy percent flirting with the boring old doctors at their practices. They're really going to like my short skirt and too-tight blouse, I muse to myself and grimace.

I want to text Terry. Instead, "Good afternoon, Ben! Hope you're having a great day. Keep those users in line."

Soon after starting the drive to my first appointment, I get a text while in the car. Is IT stalking me? Probably has something on my phone to know I left.

"visitng doctrs <doctor> i want u to flash all of thm <star> text me after n tell me about it <mouth> how u feel <hands>"

Shit! How can I do this? It could lose me my job. Will I be able to get away with just telling IT that I did, but not? Or does IT know somehow? Is IT one of my clients?

But there's also a thrill I'm getting, I realize, by being told what to do. By having no choice.

I pull up to the first doctor's practice: I think he's close to retirement. I get to do my pitch in his office after only a one hour wait - could be worse. I position my chair so he can see my skirt and right when he glances at my legs, I change the way they're crossed, just like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct. He looks momentarily shocked, but I continue my pitch like nothing happened; I'm actually kinda enjoying the look on his face.

No point in lying to IT - IT would figure that out anyway, right? "First doctor done. Old guy. Gave him an eyeful. It made me feel naughty. I liked seeing the expression on his face. But I'm worried about my job. Please don't make me do this."

And I get back from IT... nothing.

Second doctor. Mid 30's, pudgy, full of himself. He's a proctologist and there's a photo of a license plate that says "ASSMAN" on his wall. He's so insensitive. But while I wait for him to come, I position myself in front of that picture as if it's fascinating and lift the bottom of my skirt so it looks like it accidentally rode up to the very, very bottom of my ass. Ass man indeed, he's going to notice mine! I hear him enter, but stay looking at the poster and he seems to take a very long time before he clears his throat. I turn around and act surprised, putting the tip of the pen in the side of my mouth.

I'm going to do this too, aren't I? It makes me feel so wicked which really gets my motor going. My heart is beating fast.

"Doctor Grossman! I didn't hear you come in! Thanks for taking the time to look at my... product."

Was that too oblique? No, it wasn't: he snorts as if he thinks I made a blunder and sits down, inviting me to sit as well. He hears smut as easily as he dishes it out.

"So, you have a new painkiller? I'd be happy if you show me..."

Yes, he picked up that bait and ran with it. Predictable. How do I accidentally flash him? This can't be that hard with him flirting back.

Oh, my god, I realize - I'm actually turned on!

Being around a sleazebag like him usually pisses me off, but I'm so titillated that I can feel the heat between my legs. My nipples are rubbing on the silky blouse and that's turning me on too. They're so hard. So, I inconspicuously unbutton another button on my blouse and lean way over his desk when I present the materials. I'm think that the edges of my areolas are showing at the seams because he can't keep his eyes on the powerpoint, instead watching my other presentation, and all he is able to say is "uh-huh" and acknowledging grunts. While he's mesmerized by my boobs, I reach behind me and subtly lift my skirt a little more so when I turn around to leave, he'll see it's ridden well up my ass.

"So, it's a real godsend medicine - it's clinically proven to be more effective, it's completely non-addictive and your patients will appreciate you prescribing it because they will have recognized it from the massive ad campaign we're blitzing. Can I count on you to... give it a go?"

"Yeah! Sure." Apparently, he's a boobs man too, but let me give it the clincher.

"Thank you, Doctor Grossman... you won't regret it! We'll send you a sample crate right away. Please call me anytime you might have questions." I hand him my card like a precious gift of frankincense, collect my portfolio and turn to leave, subtly pulling my skirt down as I go. I look over my shoulder and smile as I note that he certainly saw. "Thank you again!"

"Oh, thank

you

! Best presentation I've had all week!"

I practically run to the ladies' room. I have to wipe the inside of my thigh which is glistening. Oh, my god: he must've seen that too. I am so turned on but so scared that I'll get fired for these shenanigans. I sit on the toilet and breathe deeply to collect myself before reporting to IT:

"Okay, I did the second doctor. It was so wrong, but he got a look at my boobs and my ass. I felt... strange. It was so sleazy but yeah. I did get turned on again."

"snd pictr down yr blows now <camera><clock>"

Without thinking, I make sure my areolas are showing, snapped the picture and sent it. Only then do I realize that I just sent him a picture with my naked legs in the background as I sat on the throne. There's even a strip of toilet paper laying on the floor. This is going from worse to horrible. Yesterday morning, IT didn't have any real pictures. Now IT has a bunch. I can't get out of this.

"good <thumbs-up> <one> mor 2 go"

FUCK! How did IT know that? I had three appointments today? IT is really, really creeping me out. Well, maybe because it's almost 4:00 and so close to quitting time?

...or, is it someone from work? Maybe Tanya - she wants my territory, doesn't she? Is she smart enough?

I haven't met Doctor Lundquist yet and couldn't find any info since he's brand new to the practice, but I'll go feel him out and see how I can pull this off.

As I drive to his office, I'm squirming in my seat. Having been forced into denial and stuck in these sexual situations has been so extreme, it's driving me nuts with desire.

I get to Lundquist's practice and find myself staring at the name on the door.

"Ste. 210 Freya Lundquist, DO."

Oh.

Now it's harder. With women doctors, I don't flirt: it has to be all business. Disarms half my pitch. But I'm forced to flirt with this one because IT gives me no choice.

I'm led into her office as she's typing madly on her screen, grumbling under her breath about all the forms she has to fill out.

"Feels more like we should've taken typing classes than biology, huh?"

She smashes the last three keys of whatever she was typing and turns to me, annoyed.

Then she looks at me and her visage changes. It's like she gets softer, more focused.

"I know, right?"

And she slowly looks me up and down.

She's checking me out; she likes girls! How could I have gotten more lucky? I've never presented to a woman doctor before where I could flirt - and I don't bend that way anyway, but today can be different, right?

I smile my best smile and start my pitch. She's such a presence in the room... commanding, but attentive, accepting. I feel more and more emboldened. So, as I speak, I casually unbutton that top button in her full view. This is more overt than I've ever been with even any male doctor and the thought of it is so risqué that it makes me shudder inside.

She nods, "yes, go on..." and smiles.

I freeze for a moment. Does she mean with my presentation or my unbuttoning? I take the safe path and keep going with my pitch to her as she stands, walks to the door and locks it, turning back to me.

She crosses her arms and leans against a file cabinet next to her. "No, that's not what I meant. Do you want me to push your pills or not?"

I bite my lower lip and look at her. Yup, she meant the unbuttoning. She's serious, isn't she? How can she tell? Does she smell the pheromones my body is producing? Does she see it in my eyes? Is it the slutty way that IT is making me dress? Is liquid running down my thighs again?

This is no tease scenario... she means it for real. And, my breath hitches, she is so dominant, so commanding. And this, being told what to do: it's so fucking hot that my vagina is burning inside. Am I really going to do this? With a woman?

I reach to my next button. Slowly. To see if her reaction means that that was what she meant. As I touch it, she nods and bites her lower lip.

"Mmmhmmm..."

I unbutton it. My breasts cave into the loose gap. One more button and they'll spill out. I can't help my expression. I know I've got lust written all over my face. She's totally figured me out - she knows what and who I am. She sees through me as only another woman could.

She walks around behind me and starts to massage my neck. It feels so good that I moan. Then I sense her breath on my left ear as she moans into it. "I've had a hard day. Do you want to help me?"