Ashamed Blackmailed Corrupted Ch 01

All characters in this story are grown adults over the age of eighteen.

As with most things that I write, this series takes place in a happy alternate reality where people don't worry about pandemics, std's, or the need for birth control.

However I should warn you that this story is a bit different from what I usually write. It is about humiliation and degradation, and a character being blackmailed to participate in a sexual encounter that is very much outside of her comfort zone.

If any of those things are not your cup of tea, or may be triggering to you, please check out one of my other stories instead.

As always, I hope you enjoy reading about some of the things that arouse me in my fantasy life.

IsabellaEmily

~~

I screwed up.

And in a moment of weakness I gave someone power over my life. A power they've been threatening to wield for several weeks now.

Late last night they made their intentions known.

At least partially.

"How the fuck did this happen?" I asked myself for the twentieth time since receiving the text.

I was alone in an elevator, riding up to a hotel room on this cold winter morning.

I had no idea what would be waiting for me when I arrived on the thirty-second floor.

I pulled out my phone and looked at the text again.

"Tomorrow is the day. Go to the Brookdale Hotel downtown and go to room 3212 in the north tower. If you're not at the door of the room by Noon I will send the video and pictures. You know I will. Love Viv."

Vivian.

I'd met her a few months ago online.

I'm a widow. My husband died when my children were small, and I raised them on my own. Between my income as the office manager at a very posh private school, and the money we inherited when he died, I was able to give my children a quality education and appeared to be a pillar of the community.

But I had secrets.

I've always enjoyed sex, and when my husband died, my high sex drive didn't die with him. In fact, the physical need that had always plagued me became more intense as I adjusted to the loneliness of being a widow.

Crazy with lust I began to masturbate, every day at least once, and often I'd be in bed at night fingering myself like I was addicted to the act. Within a year I had graduated to pornography and sex toys.

The videos and stories filled my head with fantasies, and the vibrators and dildoes provided the physical sensation my body needed as I fantasized my way through encounter after encounter and orgasm after orgasm.

But it wasn't enough. I still spent most of my waking hours aching with lust.

Over the years I had managed to have two discreet affairs. One man was a widower and the other was divorced, and I met each of them through my job.

While I enjoyed the sex with each of them, neither was particularly imaginative or kinky, and my orgasms were delivered through unenthusiastic missionary fucking.

I enjoyed it, but not enough. I was always hungry for more, and for years I suppressed that need, moaning into pillows in a dark room behind a locked door, fingering my hole and rubbing my clit through spasm after spasm, none of them truly satisfying.

Both of my children are in college now, and as an empty nester I became restless. And that restlessness is what got me into trouble.

I thought when the kids were away in college, I'd finally be able to satisfy myself with masturbation. I could make noise and use noisier sex toys that would buzz me into more intense orgasms. I could watch porn with the volume up, on the big screen tv in the living room, completely immersing myself in the video fantasies.

And like any change it was thrilling for a few days. I moaned and screamed my way through several noisy orgasms with the house to myself, but the excitement wore off quick.

So I joined a dating website, telling myself I was just indulging in fantasy, and that I'd never actually interact with or meet anyone.

But one thing led to another and looking at kinky pictures led to chatting with people and that led to texting and that led to some phone calls and finally I was searching for a face-to-face encounter.

I met with a sixty-year-old man who was looking for a partner to masturbate with.

After several messages back and forth he and I finally met for drinks, and then I invited him to a hotel room I'd reserved, and we stripped naked and watched each other masturbate.

He'd taken a Viagra for the occasion, and the sight of his cock sticking up hard and thick made me wet, and before long I was fingering myself and watching him slowly stroke himself.

It was different and fun, and I loved watching him spurt his load up into the air and all over his hairy chest, and the orgasms I had with him watching me were delicious.

We got together twice a week for two months, watching each other and being watched as we pleasured ourselves. But we never did more than watch, and after dropping several hints that I wanted to go further he admitted that he felt like doing more would be unfair to the memory of his dead wife.

I was careful to be discreet, knowing that this violated the honor code of my job, and would surely disappoint my rather conservative children, since they were both the product of their private school's rigorous moral code.

I felt guilty the first time I met up with him, but I quickly began to feel justified in my actions. After all no one was getting hurt. It wasn't like I was fucking someone. Hell, I wasn't even touching someone or letting someone else touch me.

I was just watching and being watched as I did something I did every night of the week at home.

It was like masturbating while watching porn, except it was live action.

And then I began to yearn for more. And when I realized that it would never be more than just being watched I began to crave something different.

Once again I made a choice I could justify.

I went online, this time looking for a woman to play with. I wanted someone younger than me who was experienced with another woman. For years I'd had several bisexual fantasies, and I wanted to take the plunge and live one out.

And I figured it would be okay because it wasn't like I was going to be letting someone fuck me. It would just be touching and kissing and maybe some oral experimentation.

And the first time I met Vivian it was wonderful. We met for lunch, and she was everything I wanted. Funny and smart and understanding and discreet.

We met again three days later for another lunch, and this time our conversation wasn't just sexual, but personal. We shared fantasies, and compared experiences, and I confessed things to her that no one else knew.

Things I had never even told my husband, like how I got a thrill out of peeing in the shower or squatting over a pile of dirty towels and emptying my bladder before masturbating.

After a few hours of flirting and teasing and confessing and sharing, I was trembling with lust, so she didn't have to work hard to persuade me to follow her upstairs to her room from the hotel restaurant.

Inside the room she pushed me against the door and kissed me.

A long, wet exploratory kiss, that enflamed my body and clouded my judgement, filling me with lustful need and want.

By the time she pushed me down on the bed, she had stripped me naked and teased me with her tongue until I was dripping wet with arousal and panting.

She kept me on the edge of pleasure for a long time, pushing me further each time my orgasm almost happened, having me touch, rub, kiss, and lick her all over, until I was begging for her orgasm and my own.

When I finally orgasmed it was the most intense release I'd ever had, and both of us kept pleasuring and teasing each other, until we were both sweaty, exhausted, and satisfied.

I'd gotten dressed with a dreamy smile on my face, and she kissed me goodbye as I made my way down the lobby and out to my car, tasting her on my lips and enjoying the feeling of soreness that comes from vigorous and enthusiastic sex.

The next morning she sent me a text with a picture of me with her nipple in my teeth.

I hadn't realized that she'd even had a camera in the room, and at first I thought maybe she was just sharing an arousing memento she'd taken.

But that afternoon she wanted to meet for dinner, and she explained.

She had several more pictures, and even video of all the things I'd done with her in that hotel room. There was no mistaking that it was me, and with my heart pounding I realized that she wasn't showing me an erotic and personal keepsake.

Especially when she asked if my children or parents or even my supervisors would enjoy the video.

"Please oh please," I sobbed at the table, trying not to attract attention. "Can't we just forget the whole thing?"

"It was much too beautiful to forget," she smiled, patting my hand. "Believe me, I have no intention of using your lapse in judgement to hurt you. I merely intend to use it to please myself. No one will be hurt. As long as you do exactly what I ask of you."

"What do you want?" I asked, looking around the restaurant.

"To control you and live out my desires through you," she answered with a smile.

"You want us to have sex again?" I asked.

I hoped that my way out would involve something that I'd not only already done, but something I enjoyed and would have done anyway without any threats from her.

"We will have pleasure together," she assured me with a grin. "But it will be much more intense than just sharing our bodies with each other. These pictures will ensure that you participate, but I'm sure if you approach it with the right attitude, you'll find it to be very enjoyable."

"What do you want me to do?" I asked fearfully.

"I want you to think this offer over," she said. "I will give you two weeks so that you can be sure your decision is one you want to live with. However, if I have not heard from you in fifteen days, I will send the pictures. I like you Emily, but please don't assume that I won't send them. That would be a miscalculation."

"Those pictures will ruin me," I said, staring at the tablecloth.

"Only if someone sees them," she said, standing up and pulling her coat on. "If we can get along there's absolutely no need for that to happen. So please consider my offer, and let me know what your decision is."

She put cash on the table to cover our meal, and then turned and walked away without another word.

I sat there stunned for so long that eventually the server asked me I needed her to call someone for me.

I made a lame excuse for my behavior and went home, sitting in the dark imagining the worst.

After five agonizing days I had made my decision.

I texted Vivian.

'If you insist, I will cooperate of course. Please let me know what I must do.'

And then I heard nothing for five days, and repeated texts were ignored. And then a response arrived, and it was vague and not at all comforting.

'Of course you will cooperate, and we'll both be better off because of it. I will be in touch with your next step, and if you do not follow through you know what I am prepared to do. I'll be in touch.'

Another two weeks passed, and while I sometimes expected the worst, at other times I wondered if this was all just an elaborate way for her to cruelly tease me with no intention of really harming me.

As much as I wanted to believe that I knew in my heart I couldn't afford to take that chance.

And then just as I crawled into bed last night her text had arrived.

And here I was, standing outside room 3212. My palms were sweaty, and I was a nervous wreck, my desire to turn and run overpowered only by my shame if anyone found out what I had done.

I raised my hand and knocked, taking a deep breath, and trying to calm myself.

The door pulled open and there stood Vivian.

She smiled like we were old friends and pulled me close for a hug.

"I'm so glad you came," she said cheerfully. "And you're even a few minutes early! I guess that means you're as eager as I am. In your own way of course."

"I'm eager to get this over," I said. "Whatever the fuck it is."

"Two things," she said. "First, you're here for me, and it will be over when I decide it's over. I don't want you to hate this, in fact I want you to enjoy it, but my enjoyment is what matters here the most. Got it?"

"I understand," I said. "Completely."

"Good," she smiled. "Secondly, I want you to undress. All the way. I want to see and enjoy every single inch of your beautiful body."

"How do I know you're not recording this?" I asked her.

"You don't," she said. "I can tell you I'm not recording this, but there's no way to prove that to you. Besides I already have a nice recording of you. Would one more really do you more harm?"

I shook my head, mostly because there didn't seem to be any point in arguing. I had come to do whatever she wanted, and there didn't seem to be any logic to debating or pissing her off.

She pointed to the bathroom, and I stepped inside and pushed the door closed, realizing how silly that was. It wasn't like privacy while undressing mattered. She'd seen me naked. She had pictures of me naked. And she was about to see me naked again.

I pulled off my sweater and unhooked my bra, hanging them on hangers that were on the back of the door. I unzipped my boots and stepped out of them, peeling off my socks before stepping out of my pants and hanging them up. I looked at myself in the mirror and tried unsuccessfully to smile.

I gave up and pulled my panties off, stuffing them into the pocket of my pants. I picked up both hangers and my shoes and ventured out into the hotel room.

Vivian was still dressed in a skirt and sweater, lounging on a love seat that sat facing the two beds. I stopped short though, when I saw that on each bed was a naked man.

The men appeared to be younger than me and each was in decent shape.

"Please hang your clothes in the closet Emily," said Vivian. "And then come over and say hello to John and Jack."

I hung my clothes up with shaking hands, my mind racing.

I turned back towards the beds and stepped forward, feeling awkwardly naked and exposed.

No lights were on in the room, but it was a bright afternoon, and the drapes were wide open. We were so high up that no one could possibly see in, but it certainly added to my feeling of vulnerability.

"Emily, this is Jack and John," said Vivian. "Be polite and say hello."

"Hello," I said, forcing a neutral look onto my face.

I couldn't make myself smile, but I was bound and determined not to do anything that would make whatever was about to happen worse for myself.

"Emily is nervous," said Vivian. "Be nice to her gentlemen."

"Hi Emily," said one of the men, lifting a hand. "I'm Jack. Nice to meet you."

"And I'm John," said the other one. "Are you okay? You don't need to be nervous."

"She's fine," Vivian answered for me. "A bit inexperienced, but she wants to do this. Don't you my dear?"

"I'm not entirely sure what it is I'm about to do," I said. "But I'm willing."

"That's the spirit," grinned Vivian. "Come here for a moment please."

I stepped over to her, and she stood up next to me.

"As you can see gentlemen," said Vivian, gesturing at my body, "she has a beautiful body for a middle-aged woman. Maybe an extra pound or two, but that just makes her more beautiful and real looking, doesn't it?"

"You're perfect Emily," said Jack.

"Thank you," I said, unsure what else to say.

Vivian wasn't wrong about the extra pounds, but I thought I looked good for my age.

"Your breasts are amazing," said John. "My gawd your nipples are absolutely perfect."

"They're incredibly sensitive too," said Vivian, moving behind me. "Trust me."

She lifted my breasts and jiggled them, pinching my nipples until they were stiff.

I felt my face get hot as I flushed with shame and anger. Whatever this was it was humiliating.

"How the hell did I get here?" I wondered again.

Vivian let go of me and returned to the love seat.

"You're here to suck cock Emily," she said, gesturing towards the beds.

I looked at Jack and John and swallowed nervously.

"You can start with whichever cock you prefer," said Vivian. "But both cocks need to cum, and your mouth needs to cause that."

"Suck?" I asked stupidly.

"Absolutely," she grinned. "You're going to be a good cocksucker this afternoon, aren't you?"

"I'll try," I said, my heart pounding.

"You have sucked cock before, haven't you?" asked Vivian.

"My husband's when he was alive," I admitted. "A long time ago."

"Well nothing has changed in fifteen years," she said. "Get to work."

"In front of everyone?" I asked, hoping that I might at least get some privacy.

"Oh fuck yes," said Vivian. "Watching and being watched are both fun. And nothing makes cum more delicious than an audience watching you swallow it. I invited you here to put on a show, and I promise that both of these men are looking forward to watching you work."

"I'll try," I said again.

Vivian came off the loveseat and grabbed my hair, pulling my face close to hers. She put a hand gently against the side of my face, the soft touch a sharp contradiction to the way she relentlessly bent my head back with her forceful grip.

"Emily my dear, you will do more than try," Vivian snarled. "You are going to suck both cocks until they cum. You are not getting your clothes back or leaving this room until I've seen both cocks thoroughly drained and both men are tired of your wet mouth. Is that clear?"

"Yes," I whispered. "I get it."

"Good," she grinned again. "Get to it."

I looked at the guys again and saw that neither of them was hard. In the back of my head, I thought that if one of them was already aroused he'd be easier to make cum. Unfortunately, whichever one I started with I'd have to get hard before I could properly start.

It looked like John had the bigger of the two cocks, and I decided to start with him, thinking that at least the easier one would be waiting for me when I was done with the first one.

I got onto John's bed, and he grinned at me.

"Are you ready?" I asked stupidly.

"Oh yeah," he said softly. "You're so hot."

I leaned over and lifted his penis with my fingers, giving it a gentle squeeze as he sighed. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Vivian move to the foot of the bed, and I realized she was making sure she had a good view.

I closed my eyes and lowered my face towards his cock, taking his cockhead into my mouth and sucking.

"Fuck yeah," he whispered, and I felt his cock pulse.

Encouraged that I was getting a response I sucked him all the way into my mouth, smelling soap and the faint male scent that my husband also had around his cock and balls, even when he was freshly showered.

I lifted his balls with my fingers and sucked harder, feeling him thicken inside my mouth. I started to bob my head up and down, my head coming up further and further with each motion as he got harder and longer.

Notwithstanding my circumstances I found myself feeling satisfied that I had made him hard so easily. I was afraid that my nervousness would somehow transfer to his ability, but apparently his eagerness overshadowed any vibe I might be putting off.

I had also enjoyed the sensation of him transforming from soft and small to hard and long. It was thrilling to feel the cock thicken in my mouth in response to what I was doing.

My husband had always been hard already when I took him in my mouth, and I realized I'd missed out on the pleasant feeling of orally causing his arousal.

I slowed down, feeling his cock poke against the back of my throat and I tried to hold it in my mouth while the urge to gag passed, but his cock flexed against my tongue and I lifted my head involuntarily, gagging on his cock as I struggled to breathe.