Shelly casually glanced at her phone when it buzzed. She was taking a break before getting together with her new fiancé and his family. Sometimes all the lovey dovely made her feel claustrophobic. Ray was probably wondering where she was.
"I found you, open the attachment, Mark"
Shelly froze. The text was from her ex-boyfriend. The man she ran away from over a year ago. She packed her bags, and moved to a different state, to a town where no one knew her. Holding her breath, she tapped the attachment and braced herself for the worst. The image loaded, and she gasped. It was a still from a video she had hoped to erase from her memory. Three men were fucking her, Mark, his twin brother, and his dad. It was the night that broke her, the night she realized the depth of Mark's depravity and her submissiveness.
The room grew hot around her, the walls closing in. In the picture, her eyes shone with a twisted mix of pleasure and pain. She ran away from her past and hoped to keep it buried. Before she left, she destroyed all the sex videos from their tumultuous relationship. At least she thought she did. Mark must have hidden backup copies. She felt the heat of a blush creep up her neck remembering all the nasty, dirty things he made her do.
And it wasn't only Mark and his family she had sex with. No, there were others, men and women, that he had brought into their bedroom. He had recorded every moment, every sound she had made, every time she begged to be fucked harder. Shelly felt her stomach lurch as she thought about the videos. He had a digital noose around her neck.
Her eyes searched the bustling pre-Christmas coffee shop, looking for him. Was he watching her right now? Enjoying her reaction? She felt bile rise in her throat. Gathering her things, she bolted for the door, pushing an elderly man out of the way and not bothering to say sorry. The cold, winter air hit her face, snapping her out of her trance. She had hidden her past from her fiancé and now Mark threatened to ruin her new life.
Shelly's heart hammered as she sprinted down the slippery sidewalk. The wind was biting, but she barely felt it. She jumped into her BMW and pushed the start button. Her phone beeped with another text.
"Where are you going in such a rush, sweet buns?"
Her head swiveled around frantically searching for Mark. He was nowhere in sight. She texted back.
"leave me alone
"one last video, then I will leave you alone forever"
The thought of fucking Mark again made her sick.
" or, I can send your boyfriend a copy of your videos"
Mark's text message was a warning he could end her newfound happiness. She felt the world spinning around her, the weight of his blackmail pressing down on her chest like a vice. The car sat idling, forgotten, as she stared at the phone screen, contemplating the horror of her fiancé seeing her sex videos. The thought of Ray's loving face distorted by disgust and betrayal was unbearable. The knock on her window made her scream. Mark stood there, smiling caustically, his eyes cold as the outside temperature.
Her body froze in fear. Panic painted her features as he walked around the front of her car and opened the passenger door. He looked around the luxury car and then at her. "You don't have to be a bitch, Shell. All I want is one more fuck, for old times' sake. Then it's over. Your future hubby doesn't have to know about your sordid past," he taunted.
Shelly's mind searched for an escape, but there wasn't one. "How can I trust you?" she demanded, Her hands trembled. She was trapped and he knew it.
Mark leaned over and laid his hand on her thigh. "You don't have to trust me," he leered. "You have to split your fucking legs and be my dirty little slut one last time." He tightened his grip until she flinched. "You broke my heart, Shell. Now you got to pay the price."
His touch was repulsive, sending sharp reminders swirling in her brain. His eyes were undressing her, his mind already contemplating what he wanted to do to her. Her chest heaved as she considered her options. The fear of losing her fiancé, the thought of Ray seeing those videos, was a knife twisting in her gut. She knew Mark would follow through on his blackmail, he was that kind of monster. He enjoyed watching the world burn. But could she let him abuse her again?
Letting out a deep, shaky breath, she made a decision. "Fine," she spat out, keeping her voice cold and hard. "I'll fuck you on last time, and then you leave me alone for good."
Mark's smile grew wider, showing his perfectly capped teeth. "Good girl," he said, sliding his hand up to her crotch. "Open your legs, bitch!"
Shelly's eyes flashed, but she obeyed, fighting back would make him mad. His hand moved under her skirt, pushing aside her panties. He chuckled darkly. "See, you still want it. You're soaked. You love being my whore."
He slid his finger into her, and she bit her bottom lip to stop a moan from slipping from her lips. Her body was trained to respond to his touch, from years of emotional and sexual manipulation even when her mind recoiled.
"Come on, move your hips," he snarled.
Her eyes searched the street, looking for anyone to save her, but all she saw was the cold indifference of snow. Her trembling hands gripped the steering wheel, and she willed herself not to cry. "Not here, Mark. Let's go somewhere private," she begged, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice. "Someone might see us."
"No," Mark smirked, adding a second finger. "The idea of getting caught turns you on, don't you remember, slut? Make yourself come."
Shelly's eyes watered with shame, but she did as he said, moving her hips slightly, her teeth grinding together. The last thing she wanted was to be discovered. The town was small, and everyone knew everyone. The horror of the situation made her obey. A traitorous moan escaped her throat when Mark touched her clit.
He laughed. "That's my girl. You always were a vocal little whore." His voice was like nails on a chalkboard. She wanted to scream, to tell him to get out, but she didn't dare.
"You like it when I call you my slut, don't you?" He whispered. His tongue licked her long neck.
The car rocked slightly from the rhythm of her hips. She focused on the streetlamp and the falling snow, willing herself not to look at him.
She felt the sickness return in her mind. The one that made her a willing participant. "Finger me, Mark," she mumbled, trying to hide the excitement in her voice. "Do it hard."
