All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older. The following contains themes of blackmail and coercion, if such content offends you, please do not read. This is an erotic FICTION story, although I have used some of my personal experiences which I've embellished for artistic purposes. This is purely for entertainment and never meant to happen in reality. If you have issues with such kinks, please do not read.
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Part 3
Ben's visits become an inescapable part of my daily existence. At first, I held onto the hope that he would quickly grow bored of me, but those hopes soon faded as the weeks passed. Day after day, week after week, he shows up almost without fail, barely ever giving me a day off. Even when I plead with him to give me a break, he still turns up demanding that I satisfy his needs. I've become nothing more than a vessel for his pleasure, expected to drop to my knees and submit to him whenever he demands it.
He begins to shower me with gifts, particularly lingerie. Babydolls, corsets, garter sets, body stockings, you name it. But always in seductive red or black hues. Alongside these gifts come rules and expectations. Rule number one: I must only wear dresses or skirts, no trousers allowed. Rule number two: I'm forbidden from wearing any underwear unless instructed, and it's something that he's bought for me. Rule number three: the moment he walks through the door, I'm to drop to my knees and await him, a submissive gesture that solidifies his dominance over me.
The really scary thing about the whole thing is how quickly it became the norm for me. In the beginning, I fought against him as fiercely as I could, but as the weeks wore on, his relentless persistence chipped away at my resolve until I simply stopped fighting.
By the time Liam visits home during the half-term break and I finally have a few days off, I find myself inexplicably craving sex. In the midst of all my inner turmoil, there's a twisted satisfaction I find in submitting to Ben's needs. It's a dark craving that eats away at me, one that I struggle to reconcile with my desire for freedom.
As I lie in bed, memories of our encounters flood my mind, each touch and kiss igniting a fire within me. Despite my disdain for him, there's an undeniable allure to the intensity of our encounters, a primal longing that drives me to seek out the pleasure he offers, even as I yearn for an escape. The conflict within me is suffocating, yet in the quiet moments of solitude, I find myself touching myself, longing to surrender my body again.
As December rolls around, the dynamic between Ben and me remains unchanged, yet the monotony of our daily routine begins to wear on both of us. After three months of the same predictable pattern, it's becoming exhausting, as Ben's visits begin to taper off. Our encounters have become lacklustre and repetitive, fuelling a growing hope within me that this cycle will soon come to an end, allowing me to break free and move on with my life.
As the days pass, I find myself considering alternative options to escape Ben's suffocating control. What was once unthinkable now becomes a viable possibility. I carefully consider the risks and consequences, surrounding the idea of ending things with Ben. If he decides to expose our affair to the world, then let him. I could craft my own narrative, painting myself as the victim of loneliness and misguided affection. Anything he says beyond that would only reveal his own bitterness and vindictiveness. It's a daring gamble, but one I'm increasingly willing to take.
The only thing holding me back is Liam. I can't reconcile in my mind how he would react to such news. My heart insists that, despite the initial hurt, he would eventually forgive me. However, my gut churns with doubt, and it's that doubt that holds me back.
It's Monday and it's the final week of term, I can barely hold back my excitement to have Liam home again, even if it is for just a few weeks. It's also reassuring to know that his presence will put a stop Ben's visits, if only temporarily.
With my workday now behind me, I stand in the kitchen, tidying up while anxiously awaiting to see if Ben will make an appearance. As usual, I've dressed for the occasion in a black strapless bodycon dress that he bought for me. I despise it, but it's one of his favourites. The dress is too tight, barely contains my breasts and is utterly impractical for this time of year, I have to run the heating none stop just to keep warm. Still, it's a better option than some of the other garments he's gifted me, like a pink polyester bodycon dress that oozes a tacky, almost plastic-like sheen, that makes me feel like a knock-off version of Barbie's grandma, or worse a cheap nineties porn star.
As the evening wears on, I begin to let my guard down. Ben typically arrives by seven, or at the latest, half past, but as I glance at the clock and see it approaching quarter past eight, I can't help but feel a sense of relief. It's the second night in a row that I've had off, and I can't help but feel pleased about it.
As I lean over to place my saucepan back in the cupboard when I hear a faint sound at my front door. Ben's such a regular visitor that I've become lax about locking it. With a heavy sigh, I straighten myself up, resigned to losing my night off.
"Lillian?" Ben calls out from the other room.
"Fuck me," I mutter quietly to myself.
I drop to my knees, knowing exactly what's expected of me.
"Kitchen," I respond, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.
I hear him approach the door, and watch as it opens slightly.
"Are you on your knees?" He asks sounding a little hurried.
"Yes," I respond, my impatience evident in my tone as I roll my eyes.
"Good," he replies. "Close your eyes."
"Why?" I ask feeling quite annoyed.
"Just do it," he snaps. "I have something for you."
Another gift, I think to myself.
"Fine," I reply, my tone tinged with annoyance.
I close my eyes and let out a sigh.
"Okay, they're closed," I call out.
"Good," he replies. "No peaking."
"Okay," I reply sarcastically.
I hear the kitchen door creak as it opens, followed by a moment of silence as I kneel there, waiting for him.
"What is it this time?" I ask impatiently.
"Just open your mouth," he replies.
"Really?" I ask. "I needed my eyes closed for that?"
I feel him place his hand over my face, covering my eyes.
"Just keep them closed," he replies.
"They are closed," I reply, frustration evident in my voice.
Suddenly, I feel him pull down the front of my dress, leaving my breasts exposed to the chilly air he's brought in with him. A shiver of anticipation runs through me as I feel my nipples harden in response.
"Okay," he says, sounding eager. "Open your mouth a bit more."
I comply, parting my lips and waiting for whatever he has in store.
"Okay, here it comes," he says, with anticipation in his voice.
As his penis slides into my mouth, I wrap my lips around it and start sucking. Initially semi-hard, it quickly hardens, but something feels off. It seems smaller and thinner than usual, and as it stiffens, I realise the bulbous head missing. Instead, it's a smooth, rounded shape that feels unfamiliar against my tongue.
With a surge of panic, I open my eyes and look up. Gone is the toned midriff I'm accustomed to seeing, along with the trail of hair up and over the stomach. Instead, I'm met with a pale, flat stomach devoid of any real definition. My mouth falls open in shock as I realise it's not Ben who's standing in front of me, it's Ian.
