Blacmailed Bride

This is the first chapter of what will become a new novel in the non-consent/reluctance category. It's more introduction than anything else, with little in the way of sexual entertainment. More of that will arrive in later chapters. Nevertheless, it lays a good groundwork for what is to come.

*****

A Week Away

"Brooke, please," Tanner pleaded, "we're almost married. Can't we have sex now, sweetheart?"

We had been kissing on the bed for over thirty minutes and I was definitely hot and bothered, but Tanner had wanted to go too far. I got up and fixed my hair, make-up and clothes, all of which had suffered in the process. Tanner and I were engaged. We dated for a year, and then got engaged about six months ago. So far, I had managed to put him off, wanting to be pure for my wedding night. I admit it was getting harder and harder to resist sex with him. I was so easily aroused when we started kissing and petting one another. I let him touch my bare breasts and even my vagina a couple times, though as soon as he tried to put his fingers in me, I shut him down. It was too much like sex, but I loved him so much and wanted my first time with him to be extra special.

Tanner was twenty-six and so, so handsome. Tall, a couple inches over six feet, lean and athletic, but muscular as well. All of my girlfriends drooled when they saw him, and I could not resent it, because I liked to watch him too. The way he walked, like a panther, his muscles gliding under his skin, commanding a room when he walked in, people noticing him. You might think he was rich or came from wealth, used to people waiting on him hand and foot, but though he was well to do, he wasn't rich and didn't expect anyone to wait on him, even me.

His hair was dark and he had brown eyes with lashes so long, girls envied him. He had a ready smile and shared it often, dazzling us with his wit and charm. I couldn't believe he had fallen for me. I was two years younger than him, fairly tall, five foot, nine in my stocking feet. I had what I considered to be ugly, mousy brown hair, a rather plain, oval face, a too wide mouth and turned up nose with freckles I hated with a passion. Oh, I guess my boobs and ass were all right in the scheme of things. Thirty-six with a C cup, high and firm; buttocks kept tight with swimming and volleyball, but I felt like a plain Jane compared to all the other women I knew who lusted after him.

Why he would fall for me when he could easily have twenty or thirty lovelier women panting for him, ready to give him whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it, I had no idea; but somehow, he did. I wouldn't even date him the first five or six times he asked. I figured I'd be another notch on his bedpost and had no desire to join the scads of other girls who'd ended up there. If not for his persistence and light hearted efforts to keep me entertained with his attempts to woo me, I never would have started dating him. On the whole, he was a gentleman and never pushed too hard to have sex which is why I ended up loving him and engaged to be married.

"Do you love me, Tanner?" I suddenly asked.

"I love you more than life itself," Tanner replied. "I wouldn't marry you if I didn't love you."

"I want to wait," I explained for maybe the hundredth time. "I want to come into our marriage as a virgin. I don't want to have sex until our wedding night. You know I love you, but this is very important to me. I've saved myself for this long, I'm not going to buckle with a week left to go. Please, quit asking. I want our first time to be when we're married, and not a second before."

"What about a blow job, then," Tanner laughed. "Sucking my cock won't harm your virginity, will it? All I'm asking for is a little relief." He pursed his lips and pretended to be sucking on something cock sized in his mouth.

"Eewwwh! Technically not, but what is it about men and blow jobs, anyway? It sounds disgusting. Sucking on the same thing your pee comes out of. I hope you won't expect it too often. Maybe on our wedding night, your birthday and our anniversary. I can't see me doing it more often than that, and I'll expect you to wash yourself thoroughly beforehand."

"You should try it, you might like it," Tanner said. "Just as I expect you'll like it when I lick your cunt."

"Please don't call my vagina a cunt. It's crude and disgusting and it's demeaning."

"What do you want me to call it; your pussy?"

"Even that's rude," I said. "Why can't you call it a vagina?"

"Because saying I want to lick your vagina doesn't have the same impact. What do you and your girlfriends call it?"

Together, we called it a lot of things; kitty, vajayjay, sex, down there; Tiffany called it her fur pie, though why she did, I don't know, because there was barely any fur on her. A slim little landing strip no more than a half inch wide leading to her treasure. Donna called it her man trap on occasion, and Yvonne did call it a pussy. It wasn't as if I was naive about my vagina and it's purpose.

I was more naive about a penis. I'd walked into the bathroom by accident once while Dad was peeing. I'd quickly backed out apologizing profusely, but the image had been burned into my brain. I'd never seen a naked erect one, though I'd felt them pressed against me on the other side of clothes, as I danced with a boy or kissed one. I hadn't even seen Tanner's, though he convinced me to touch his under his pants once. I only touched it for maybe fifteen seconds, but I still remembered vividly the way it felt. The heat, the hardness of it, the softness, like velvet over steel. I'd pulled my hand out of his pants suddenly like it burned my hand. I hadn't even watched porn. Dad told me porn never accurately depicted the sex act. It was designed to titillate, mostly males, not instruct.

Tanner had asked me once how I'd know what to do with it on my marriage night. I told him I'd talk to people with more experience. He asked who I would talk to and I said I could talk to my parents, plus Tiffany, Donna, and Yvonne were all sexually experienced and happy to give me a word of advice.

Mom gave me "the talk" when I was fourteen. She'd been an unwed mother and didn't want me making the same mistakes she did. My step-father married her despite a three year old child and I loved him like a real father. He'd never been anything other than good and kind to a fatherless waif. After Mom gave me the talk, Dad talked to me as well, but approached the matter in an entirely different manner than Mom did.

"Look, sweetie," Dad said. "Mistakes happen. I will never love you less if you decided you didn't want to wait until marriage, but I would encourage you to be careful and do your utmost not to get pregnant. I know there are a lot of things you want to do with your life, and those things become so much harder if you have a child. I will say this, however. Sex is a lot more meaningful, and even more beautiful, if it's shared with someone you love. I can think of no greater gift you can give a man than wait for your wedding to share yourself with him and him alone. Unless of course, you fall in love with a woman, then I suppose I don't need to have this talk with you."

"Dad!" I complained "now you're just teasing me. You know I'm not into girls."

"You're still young. A lot of things can happen before you're an adult. It's okay, whatever you decide. Your Mom and I will love you no matter what. It's far more important you be the best person you can be rather than who you decide you want to spend your life with." He hugged me then, and gave me a kiss on the cheek, and I knew he was right; my parents would always love me.

I sighed. "I would prefer you call it a vagina, because that's what it is, but if you have to call it something else, call it my kitty."

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty. Would you like to swallow a little mouse?" Tanner said, grabbing his penis in his jeans and holding it, molding his pants over it. It was hard. I'd felt it rubbing against me as we made out.

I laughed. "Your mouse will have to wait another week, just like the rest of you. Where are you and the boys going for your bachelor party?"

"I think Geoff has got a visit to a strip club planned. Lot's of booze, I'm sure; and he told me to be sure I had a lot of ones, fives and tens with me."

I kissed him. "Just remember, honey," I said. "You may look all you want, but do not touch. You can wait another week and I'm yours." I waived my hands up and down my body. "Everything you wanted for so long is all yours, and yours alone. I've never shared it with anyone else."

"I can't even have a lap dance?"

"You can have a lap dance," I said. "Just keep your hands to yourself. They don't need to wander for you to have a good time."

"Where are the girls taking you for the bachelorette party?"

"We're going to Tiffany's house," I said. "She's throwing the shindig. I'm sure I'll be getting some gag gifts and there'll be drinking, of course. I haven't heard all of what they have planned, but it will be somewhat raucous, I'm sure, since Tiffany is throwing the party. She's not the wildest of my girlfriends, but she's not far from it."

"I'm a little surprised you have some friends who tread on the wild side. You're so straight laced," Tanner said.

"I try not to judge a book by its cover," I replied. "I'm more concerned with their loyalty, friendship and love than I am in their conduct. If I totally judged book covers, I'd never have dated you. You had a reputation as a lady killer who loved and left them. Heaven knows, every woman of my acquaintance drools over your body. You could have anyone you wanted and I couldn't imagine you wanted me."

"You sell yourself short all the time. You're a tall, classy, beautiful woman, intelligent, funny, self-deprecating. You even know how to cook. The only thing I don't know about you is how compatible we'll be having sex."

"I know love isn't an indicator of sexual compatibility, but I love you a lot Tanner Mason, and if love has anything to do with it, sex will be just fine." I patted his cheek. "You'd better get ready. Your boys will be waiting for you."

We still didn't live together. I didn't trust myself to behave if I had to live with Tanner while waiting to wed. We had picked out a nice apartment together and Tanner moved in without me. I'd given notice on my own small studio apartment and would move in with Tanner after we returned from our honeymoon. He kissed me and left, still sporting a large bulge in his jeans. I wondered if he'd have to masturbate to get rid of it before he went out. He might want to do it a couple times before going to a strip club, or he might get a severe case of blue balls. He told me once being engaged to me was like being married to his hand. He said he had to masturbate all the time just to ensure he didn't get a case of blue balls. I didn't know what he was talking about when he said it and I asked him what he meant.

"Look it up on the web," he replied. "You'll know what kind of problems I have to put up with being engaged to you."

I did look it up. It sounded painful. I apologized after reading about it, but instead of offering to help him, said he could go in the other room and masturbate if he was starting to experience pain. He asked if he could do it in front of me and I told him I might be tempted to help him out and I wanted everything to be new when we finally had sex. He did leave the room a few times afterward and I had no problem with it, not wanting him to be in distress.

He came back into the room once after leaving to take care of himself and said, "I'd like to introduce you to my new girlfriend."

"What new girlfriend?" I asked, shocked.

He stuck out his hand and said, "I'd like to introduce you to Rosy Palms."

It took me several seconds to figure out the joke, then I took his hand and said, "Pleased to meet you, Rosy. Please take care of our boyfriend. I don't want him to suffer." We both laughed and he hugged me. "You sure are a persistent cuss," he said.

After Tanner left, I showered and shaved my legs and underarms. I picked out what I was going to wear tonight. Since it was going to be at Tiffany's house, I figured casual was fine, some shorts, a blouse, standard bra and panties, strappy sandals. I would put my shoulder blade length hair in a pony tail and add a little make-up, nothing much, a little lipstick and mascara. Yvonne was going to pick me up and take me to Tiffany's. Since there was going to be a lot of drinking, we all planned to spend the night at her house so no one would drive drunk, so I had a some pj's picked out as well. I even had some food to ameliorate the affects of the alcohol I knew I'd be having later, but not too much as I expected lots of snacks.

Yvonne was there at seven. "Hey, girlfriend, you ready to go?" She gave me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek.

"Let me grab my overnight bag and I'm ready."

I snagged it off the kitchen counter and followed Yvonne out the door, locking up behind me. Climbing into the passenger seat, I asked, "Do you have any idea what Tiffany's got planned for tonight?"

"Not a clue, honey, but I do know it will be fun. Tiffany knows how to throw a party."

"How many people will be there?"

"I'm pretty sure it's just ten of us," Yvonne said. "Tiffany, and your other three bridesmaids, including moi. Let's see, Erin and Shizuko from the volleyball team, your swimming buds, Maria and Cheyenne, Tanner's sister, Sydney and you."

Tiffany was my Maid of Honor. She was the wealthiest of my friends, though she never lorded her money over us. She was my closest friend; I'd known her since high school. The rest I'd met in college. Yvonne and Donna had been my dorm mates my freshman year of college. They were two of my bridesmaids, along with Taylor, who'd lived across the hall. When we finally outgrew the dorms, we all shared a run down house together off campus.

Erin and Shizuko played on the volleyball team with me, plus they were openly gay and lovers. Erin was a year ahead of me, Shizuko a year behind and Erin was the only one of my friends taller than I was, nearly 5-11. She was the primary spiker on my team, Shizuko, or Suki to her friends, the setter. Maria and Cheyenne swam with me in college. Maria's family had some money, but she was as relaxed about it as Tiffany was. I suspected she might be gay, because I never saw her with any guys. On the other hand, I never saw her with women either, so maybe she was asexual. I guess the rest of us would be considered middle to upper middle class except Cheyenne, who was at the lowest end of the middle class spectrum, getting to school only because she got a swimming scholarship. Erin, Donna and Cheyenne were African-American, Suki was Japanese-American and the rest were WASP's except for Maria, whose family was Catholic and Italian-American. It was a fairly eclectic mix of people, but we all got along well with each other, laughing and joking about our differences.

Sydney was the one I knew the least, since I hadn't met her until I started dating Tanner. She was my age, though she hadn't attended school with us, going to Bryn Mawr. She had joined our group about two months before Tanner and I got engaged and got along with everyone like she'd been with us from the beginning.

Tanner's family had a substantial amount of money too, so both he and Sydney were accustomed to the creature comforts. He had a good paying job at an architectural firm and didn't need additional income from me, so he convinced me to quit my low level job at the accounting firm where he met me to concentrate on being a wife and mother. We'd talked it over and thought three children would be the perfect number. I figured I'd give it about a year or two to get used to married life before adding our first baby to the mix.

Tiffany had a 2800 foot condo on the top floor of a Midtown building overlooking Piedmont Park and the Downtown Atlanta area. I know it had cost over 1.7 million dollars. It had two story windows and was absolutely gorgeous. When Yvonne and I got there, we were to last ones to arrive. Everyone else was there and already working on their first drinks.

"Brooke, baby. You decided to join us. Good thing, since you're the guest of honor," Tiffany said. "Come on in."

I walked in to what would become the worst nightmare of my life.