Susan Jennings was a charismatic and charming talk show host, bestselling author, and the darling of the religious right for her perceived moral high ground. With her slim waistline and more than generous portion of breasts, added to the perfectly styled jet black hair and big deer like green eyes, it was hard not to like her.
The set of the talk show was brimming with activity as she strolled to her desk. She was building up her audience for the imminent release of her latest book, a no-holds-barred look into the adult entertainment industry. The book marked a departure from her usual "PG" rated fare. She had packed every chapter with graphic sexual content. Straight sex, gay and lesbian sex, sexual fantasies, and fetishes were all explored. There were even personal interviews with strippers, call girls, and porn stars.
The hype had resulted in record breaking advance orders, and was set to give Susan more of the two things she was hopelessly addicted to: money and fame. The seemingly perfect 32 year old seemed untouchable, and in full control of everything around her. That was until the phone call.
It came when the filming was done and everyone had left for the evening. She was reading through her fan mail and soaking up the accolades when the ringing of the phone diverted her attention. The caller was a male who refused to give his name. His voice was deep and she felt uneasy, even alarmed as he spoke. Something was not right about this call, and it took only two words from the caller to confirm it.
"Raven Fox."
How could he know? She had worked so feverishly to bury it. The legal documents, the financial transaction, and the buyer's signature were all designed to erase any trace of her brief work as a nude model in the porn industry. Where and how had this unknown caller dug up her past?
Panic filled her, and her heart raced wildly. If word got out, she would be ruined. Her career over, her reputation shattered, and her million dollar lifestyle gone with the wind. She had to think fast. Her first reaction was to play it cool, pretend she did not know what the caller was talking about.
"I'm sorry, but you seem to have me confused with someone else. I really must go now."
"I know exactly who I'm talking to. If anyone is confused it is you Susan, or should I call you Raven?"
"As I said, I have no idea what you-"
"250 colour photographs. All nude and sexually explicit. The entire collection of your work, it would seem. The attorney was Martin Hilliard. The collection was sold to Sterling Miles for the sum of $2,500. A poultry sum if you ask me. The contract stated that Mr. Miles was to retain them for his private collection only. They were never to be sold or distributed."
Her tone suddenly turned more sour as she spoke into the phone.
"And how is it you know all of this?"
"Sterling Miles was my brother. When he passed away last month, he left me his entire collection of erotica. Imagine my surprise when I was going through them and found you in all your naked, enticing, explicit glory. What would your devoted fans think if they discovered that their esteemed symbol of righteousness and virtue was nothing more than a cheap whore who liked to spread her legs for the camera?"
Susan was desperate for words, and even more desperate to protect her golden girl image. Raven Fox was her dirty alter ego and must stay buried. She would pay any price, do anything necessary to get those pictures back in her hands. Her thoughts again turned to the mysterious caller.
Was she dealing with an inept amateur trying to shake her down for money, or a sinister male using the photographs as leverage to lure her into sexual submission. The latter thought sent a decadent thrill through her that she was quick to dismiss. "As you have noted, the contract stated specifically that those images could not be released to the public, so I don't believe we have anything further to discuss."
"Yes, the contract stated that Sterling could not release them. But Sterling is dead. As his legal heir, I now own the rights to them and there is nothing in the contract that prohibits me from doing as I please with them. If you do not want them going public then I suggest we meet."
Susan was shaking, her composure all gone. How could her attorney overlook a detail like that? "I can set up a meeting with an attorney. We can-"
"NO! We meet alone. I hold the upper hand now, so don't try anything you will regret. I have many connections in the porn industry myself and will not hesitate to make these available to them. We must meet alone."
The room seemed to spin and she felt near to fainting. Like a fly caught in a spider's web, she was trapped with no way out. "Where?" she whispered, her voice shaky and nervous.
"I knew you would see things my way," the nameless voice remarked as he gave Susan the instructions on where they were to meet. As he ended the conversation, she grabbed her smart phone and entered the address into the GPS App. It was the seedy side of town near the wharf. She was now even more apprehensive. A single female driving her Mercedes in that part of town would stand out like a sore thumb. She could be mugged, gang raped, or even murdered.
As she drove to the rundown apartment he had described, she recalled the details in her mind. Ten years, how quickly they had gone. She had left home. Was living in a strange city and was hungry for fame and fortune. Blessed with a gorgeous face and hot body, she immediately found work as a model. That led to nude modelling, and that led to the sex industry. While the work kept her busy, she never made it to the mainstream magazines and films.
She recalled the raw excitement of fucking in front of others, and the high of seeing herself sucking cock and being fucked hard. She thought of her first lesbian shoot. Jade had the most beautiful pussy she had ever seen, and she still recalled her face being soaked in the girl's cum. Her thoughts went to the catalogue of pictures themselves. Close ups of her tight pussy, her legs spread wide with cum dripping from her freshly fucked cunt. Her tongue buried in another woman's pussy. The ones with two cocks stuffed in her mouth, and those with her face peeking out from between her own legs as she was fucked like a dog; these were the pictures that troubled her most. Some of the ass shots, and pussy close ups could be anyone, but the rest would expose her quite clearly. She had changed little in appearance since then.
She had made a clean break from all of that by what she thought was an iron clad deal. She went to college, got a degree in literature, wrote a bestselling book, and climbed the ladder of success with a completely new persona. Now it was all back, and threatening to destroy everything.
************************* A soaking rain had the wind shield wipers going full speed as Susan navigated the dark street in search of the small apartment. Finding the agreed on address, she nervously made her way up the wooden steps that led to the porch. The door was unlocked as he indicated and she cautiously stepped inside.
The room was spacious and moderately decorated; a surprise considering the crumbling and neglected exterior. A large throw rug covered the hard wood floor beneath. The walls were covered with pine wood panelling, and a large ceiling fan churned slowly overhead. She scanned the room to see a big screen TV mounted on the wall. A surround sound system was playing music softly in the background. Pictures of nude women in various stages of bondage were displayed on every wall.
