Message-ID: <20407eli$9903080639@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: auryman@aol.com (AuryMan) Subject: Diane's Mistake - 4 (M+F, nc-blackmail, bdsm, etc) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19990307132406.08678.00005248@ng-fp1.aol.com> WARNING: This story contains strong sexual themes. It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS ONLY, and the writer does not in any way suggest or condone similar behavior. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. All names are fictitious. The acts described herein are illegal, and are not condoned by the author. This work is to be read by PERSONS 21 OR OLDER ONLY where such topics are not against the law. If unusual sexual behavior offends you, please STOP reading here THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING! =============================== SubDiane's Mistake Chapter 4 Diane walked back to her car, carrying the box underneath her left arm. She was watching the people who walked by. She knew it was irrational, but it felt like they had all heard the concierge's words. When she got to the car, she opened the door, then slid inside and pressed the lock switch. She put her forehead on the steering wheel and cried for ten minutes. What had she done? Because of these online cybersex chats, she'd just sucked off another man - a blackmailer who threatened to give her husband transcripts of her affairs. It hadn't been worth the price. She wished she'd known the possibilities and never started with the online world of sex. But, it was too late. He might want to fuck her again sometime and she would not be able to say no. How often would he do it? At least he hadn't done anything extreme or dangerous. She had worried earlier today that the "anything for $200.00" had meant that maybe he'd tie her up, maybe take pictures, maybe bring another man into the room. He hadn't done anything like that, and she was grateful. Perhaps that one blow job was going to do it for him. For now, there was the box to contend with. She untied the ribbon and took off the lid. Inside was a toothbrush, a tube of hotel sized toothpaste, a note, and something wrapped in white tissue. She unfolded the note and read it: "If you are reading this, then I can assume you have serviced Mr. Hardy in room 812. Thank you. I will collect my half of the $200.00 later. "You have no more assignments today. "Please return to your home and await further instructions. Keep the contents of this package with you at all times. "Have a nice day." She crumpled the note and threw it to the floor of the minivan. "Have a nice day?" What kind of thing was that to say to someone who'd just been blackmailed into sucking your cock? The tissue paper package was small, about the size of her tiny purse. The unfolded it slowly. Inside were two items: a white thong panty, made of what must have been nylon, and a small tube of KY jelly. She leaned her left arm on the steering wheel and rested her head on her wrist. For several minutes, she sat in the car and cried. Nothing changed. The feeling inside her was the same - she was sick, angry, upset that this man was playing games with her. Did he think she was going to be his personal lover? Dressing up to play hooker for him when the urge hit him? + + + It was nearly three in the afternoon before she started the motor and headed for home. She was shocked to realize she'd been sitting there in the minivan, thoughts racing through her mind, then alternately stopping abruptly leaving her dazed and empty-headed. When she got home, she showered for nearly 30 minutes, using the hot water and soap to scrub the memories off her her arms, legs, face, neck, wishing she could was them out of her mind. She brushed her teeth, flossed, gargled, brushed-flossed-gargled again, spitting the various liquids to the floor of the bathtub and letting the shower water wash them into the sewer where they belonged. She shampooed three times to be sure there was no residue, nothing that might cling or clot, nothing that her husband or daughter might see or smell that would make them ask questions. Over dinner that night, they had the standard pleasant conversation. When asked what she had done that day, she said she run a few errands in the city. It was only a lie in the most technical sense. + + + "I'm going to do a little surfing before I go to bed," Diane said to her husband. He was sitting in bed propped up on a few pillows, reading a copy of the National Review. His eyeglasses were halfway down his nose and his dark blue pajamas stood out in nice contrast to the crisp white sheets. "So, tonight will be like any other night, I take it," he said a bit sternly. "Are you upset about that?" she asked a bit nervously. He chuckled and set the magazine flat on his lap, careful not to lose his page. "No, I was trying to make a joke. Every night, after I fall asleep, you go off and get on that darn thing. I don't know if you're trading recipes, shopping for Beanie Babies, or just kibitzing with the other moms out there about our daughter's bedtime habits, but I don't mind. Just as long as we're together, we can each have our own hobbies." "Oh, well, you can always count on that, dear," she said. She climbed onto the bed and slowly crawled forward until she was straddling him, knees on either side of his hips, then leaned forward to give him a kiss. He frowned and put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back slightly. "I told you I don't like you on top of me like this. You're acting like a whore. And, I've also told you I don't like you going to bed wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt." She crossed her arms and leaned back on his legs. "It's a nightshirt and I'm wearing panties. I know what you like and what you don't like -- what about what I like?" "You get what you like. A house and a family and food on the table. And money to run your 'errands in the city'. Whatever you were doing, I'm sure you enjoyed yourself. You have all the time in the world while I'm at work and you know it. So, let's not get into this one again, shall we?" Diane swung her legs off the edge of the bed and stood up. She was upset but this was a familiar conversation and she knew better than to pursue it. "Well, I guess I'm off then." She started walking toward the door. "Wait a minute!" he called. When she turned around, she saw that he had a concerned look on his face. He pushed the covers down around his knees and got up out of the bed. He stepped into his slippers and checked to make sure his buttons were all done. "You're going to get on the computer again, aren't you?" A cold fear gripped her stomach. Did he suspect something? Had the blackmailer called him? Sent him a letter? Visited him at work? "You know, part of me wonders whether this climbing on top of me and this 'nightshirt and panties' thing is part of something you've learned in one of those 'women's groups' on the Internet. You know, 'how to please your man'..." She shook her head, reached for him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Nothing like that. I just like dressing like this and I'm sorry it offends you." "I didn't mean it that way," he said, a grin spreading across his face. "I just like to know what's going on with you, that's all." "Listen, if anything out of the ordinary happens, I'll be sure to tell you." She kissed him on the lips, then turned and walked out of the room. At the end of the hall, she stood at the door of the library waiting for the light to go out in their bedroom. It was nearly ten minutes before he put down the magazine, but she knew he was going to sleep for the night. + + + When she connected and checked her IN box, there was only one piece of email from SumwonElz: "Having seen you in the bookstore, I am more or less satisfied with your appearance. This may change in the future, but we will deal with that when the time comes. "You did a fine job in room 812 today. So well, in fact, that you will repeat that performance tomorrow at 10 a.m. Wear the same clothes. Do not wear the gift you received in the box, but bring it along. "Brush your teeth before entering the room." There was nothing more in the IN box, not even the usual junk mail or solicitations from others she'd done chats with in the past. Was he tampering with her IN box as well? She clicked the mouse -- both the Old Mail and Sent Mail and both boxes were empty as well. Whoever this was, he knew his way around a computer. "Ding!" - SumwonElz: Good to see you. - SubDiane: What does your email mean about tomorrow? Wasn't today enough? - SumwonElz: Enough? You are certainly not serious. - SubDiane: Why not? - SumwonElz: Oh the stakes are much higher than that. - SumwonElz: One visit was not even a taste of what we have in mind for you. She stared at the screen, stunned. - SubDiane: "We"? - SumwonElz: That's what I said. - SubDiane: You said nothing about there being more than one of you. - SumwonElz: I have no need to explain anything to you. - SumwonElz: Be there tomorrow. - SubDiane: I don't understand. "Member is no longer logged on" She slammed her fist down on the desk. This was horrible - what was he thinking to do to her? She'd already dressed up and played 'hooker' for him, had his cock in her mouth, sucked him off, played his game with the concierge, what else did he want? Driving into the city again was going to be a pain in the ass, and what if the concierge spotted her and called the police? How would she explain her way out of that? And could she get on her knees and give him what he wanted again, two days in a row? Today was difficult enough. What if he tried to have her drive to the city everyday? With a feeling of disgust, she turned off the computer without even signing off. + + + end of Chapter 4 -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----