Message-ID: <20469eli$9903100436@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: auryman@aol.com (AuryMan) Subject: Diane's Mistake - 6 (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: <19990310015504.01360.00000400@ng43.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 6 On the windshield of the minivan, underneath the wiper blade, there was a note. It was in an envelope, standard #10 white, with nothing on the outside but the words "Read Me." She knew immediately who it was from and wondered how he'd got it there without her knowing. Before their session upstairs or after? Getting back to the car had taken a few extra minutes, hiding in the stairwell until the concierge again left his post. It must have been placed there after they'd finished, when she thought he was asleep. She opened the car door and slid into the driver's seat. Her hands were trembling slightly as she opened and read the note: "Your next assignment today is not scheduled until one o'clock, I hope you have a few minutes to enjoy yourself in between. I wouldn't recommend eating lunch. "In the same hotel, you are to go to room 608 and service the person you find there. The charge will be the same, $200.00, and this time your name will be Cindy. Please do not get the names confused. "Before you go in, there are two things you are to do. There was a white thong in this box. Remove your stockings and put it on under your skirt. "Also, make sure you brush your teeth. No one wants to smell another man's cum on his whore's breath." The last statement gave her a surprising rush. He'd clearly picked up on her need to be humiliated in the chats, this was a beautiful touch. Then, the fears came back. This was blackmail, not an affair. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the headrest. What kind of elaborate crap was this? He's rented two different rooms and is pretending to be two different people? Why? Elaborate games - the people online seemed to have wide ranging imaginations, but this was too much. And, how to get past the concierge? If he saw her go back in, he might call the police. She could rush upstairs to 608, but how would she get back out? There might be a back way, or maybe he'd be gone to lunch. If she could get past him on the way in, maybe getting back out wouldn't matter. He'd see she was leaving the building and figure, why bother? It was all a jumble in her mind. Her watch said 12:45, she didn't have long to figure out a plan. She unwrapped the white thong, slid her panty hose off and tugged on the thong, pulling it tight between her ass cheeks like she'd seen in a movie once. One of the attendants was patrolling the parking garage. Diane waited until he'd gone past before she opened the car door. She walked back across the parking lot and down the street to the hotel. An airport shuttle had just arrived and there were dozens of people asking questions and shouting for luggage. The concierge was busy helping three or four of them, trying to keep them all calm while he did his best to hook them up with their baggage and arrange cabs for the ones who were going across town. When he had his back turned, she slid past, through the revolving doors, and into the lobby. There was a large group of people at the elevator, but when they saw her with no luggage, they let her squeeze into the open elevator car. "Sixth floor, please," she announced. Two other people got off the elevator on the sixth floor. She walked to the far end of the hall, then back again, waiting for them to go into their rooms before she looked for 608. When the hallway was empty, she knocked hard and said "Hello?" She heard movement inside, then heard the doorknob turn. + + + In everyone's life, there are moments of revelation -- moments when you understand an entire movie, or book, or the parameters of a relationship. For Diane Lawson, the opening of the door to room 608 was that moment. The door was opened by a woman. She looked to be in her mid-40's with long reddish hair, and wearing a plain white dress. Diane's heart sank. She tried to convince herself that she had the wrong room. "No, dear. You ARE Cindy, aren't you?" the woman inside asked. >From behind her, a voice called, "Is that her? Tell her to get her ass in here!" Diane's knees went weak. That wasn't the voice from room 812. One of these was not the blackmailer. Then, she realized that perhaps neither this man nor the man in 812 was the blackmailer. She felt her body collapse. + + + There were two fingers inside her cunt when she woke up. "Hey, Donna, I think the slut's awake!" Diane opened her eyes slowly. She saw a man kneeling over her. She was inside the hotel room, on her back, on the carpet. Her knees were up and parted, skirt around her waist, and he was pushing his fingers up inside of her. "You were right, that did it," the woman said, walking across the room. She had a camera in her hand. She set the camera down on a table near the bed. "I'm surprised..." The man removed his fingers, wiped them on his pants, and stood up. "You take a pretty picture." He told her. "Come on, we'll get you a cold drink and you'll feel better." He extended a hand to her and pulled her to her feet. The woman gave her a disgusted look. She picked up the white thong from the dresser and threw it at Diane. "Put this back on." Diane felt the woman's disdain and felt her heart crumple under it. "Who are you two?" "What does that matter? You do your job, you get your money," the woman sneered. "Put the fucking thing back on!" She raised one leg then the other and stepped into the thong. She pulled it up into place while the woman stared. "You slut." "Hey, enough of that!" The man was back in the room with two glasses with ice and liquid in them. "Here, Coke for both of you." Diane accepted the drink and said "thank you." The woman took hers and put it on the table. "So, what the hell was that all about? You pass out on your tricks often?" "I'm sorry, I don't know what happened," Diane lied. "Doesn't matter. It won't mess anything up. You were only out for about five minutes. I told my wife here that diddling your pussy would wake you up." The woman gave Diane another cold, disapproving look. "She thought that someone like you'd be numb down there after all the fucking you do. I told her she's being too hard on you, right?" He took a long drink from his glass. It was clearly Coke with something in it. "Why am I here?" Diane gathered the courage to ask. "Well, it's a long story," the woman started. "And one I'm probably going to live to regret." She sat down on the edge of the bed. "My husband's been reading those Penthouse Letters books for years and years. Sometimes I browse through them. One day, he caught me reading one and we started down a whole line of conversation. Where we ended up is here, today, with you." Diane felt her fear rising again. Was she going to have to go down on this woman? It was something she'd never done and never would do. Unless she had to. Her head reeled. "And what am I supposed to do here, today?" "Luckily for you, not much. I don't want your streetwalking, disease infected mouth anywhere near me, and I'm sure not going to touch you. But, Carl and I have argued about whether sluts masturbate, whether they can actually make themselves cum, like so many of them do in the stories and movies. I made a deal with Carl. I told Carl here that I'll be satisfied to watch you masturbate to prove my point -- which is that you can't. "Then, you're to give him his lifelong dream. He's always trying to get his cock up my ass, but I'm never going to let that happen. For the sake of the marriage, I finally figured I'd let him do it to someone else. But, I want to be there to watch to make sure there's nothing else going on." "So, you're expecting me to let you watch your husband fuck me up the ass?!" She stormed across the room to the door. "I'm not even going to let him fuck me up the ass, let alone let you watch it, do you understand? You two are sick!" Carl put down his drink and looked at her. "Sick or not, it's what you're paid to do. And the man I made the arrangements with guaranteed me that you'd do it. He said you'd know why." Diane shook with rage. Taking this stranger up her ass was not something she was going to allow. There had to be some way out of it. She took several deep breaths, then slowly walked back across the room. She moved her hips as she walked, watched his eyes take it all in. "I'm sorry, Carl. You're right, after all. I do have a job to do. And you know what? I'm betting that you..." "Hey, bitch, hold up!" It was his wife. She pointed a finger at Diane and yelled. "I want to see you get off first. I told him it was part of the deal. You first, then him." She crossed her arms and gave Diane a condescending look. "I can't just masturbate on command..." Diane tried. She knew it was feeble, but maybe the woman would let her off. "Hey, do what it takes. We've got time. I'm not sure if you do, I understand you have another appointment at three o'clock." Diane looked around the room again, there was no letter, no package, how could she know that and how was she supposed to know what was next? And why would she do it? Maybe she should bolt? Only a few seconds reflection and she rejected that possibility. The book would go in the mailbox, her life would be over. Her husband would certainly not do anything to prevent it from being exposed to the public once he knew about it... "Can I strip?" she asked. "Whatever it takes." She unbuttoned the blouse and pulled it over her head, then unsnapped the skirt. She was wearing only the thong underneath so she was naked in a matter of seconds. "The quicker the better, hm? Getting naked? More tricks, more money for your pimp?" the woman chided. "Why don't you just quiet down and let me concentrate," Diane said. She wanted this over as quickly as it could me, maybe she'd just fake it. She ran her hands along her sides, then over her belly. As her right hand came up to her left nipple, she felt a rush between her legs. The woman's eyes stared right into hers. There was a defiance that passed between them and it turned Diane on. Her nipples stiffened immediately and she felt the wetness starting. She realized that she'd been masturbating online so much lately that it didn't take much to get her started. And that turned her on even more. In minutes, she was groaning and grinding her hips. The woman licked her lips and started unbuttoning her blouse. She pulled her shirt off and unsnapped her bra. She had large breasts that hung low, her nipples near her navel. While her eyes watched Diane, she started playing with herself through her skirt. Diane squatted to part her knees, pushed her fingers up inside herself. Her thumb touched her clitoris and she started rubbing. She opened her mouth and shoved her other hand into it, three fingers in and out, her tongue working on them like a cock head. In her brain passed scenes from several of her cybersex encounters, man after man fucking, sucking, and paying such attention to her, every part of her body being licked, stroked, touched, while they stood in line to shove their cocks into her mouth, belly, ass, pumping and stroking until they... She saw the woman stand up and come closer to her. "No, that isn't part of the deal," she objected. "Not part of the deal? You're a slut and you do what we pay you to do." The woman pressed her body against Diane, reaching around and grabbing her ass. Diane kept on finger fucking herself. The woman opened her mouth and put her lips against Diane's, but Diane turned her head. The woman stepped back and slapped her in the face. "You little tramp. I was right, you can't make yourself cum." She grabbed Diane's hands and pulled them away from her body. "Go on and get your ass fucked." Diane's body was screaming with frustration, she'd been so close, only another few seconds and she would have exploded. She knew that if she could get him to fuck her, she would cum and get the release she needed. "Carl, wouldn't you like a nice warm pussy to fuck?" she teased, running her hands up and down his back. She pressed her mouth against his face, but he wouldn't open his lips. "Get on your knees," he ordered. "Wait, what about fucking me like this, face to face? I can lick you, I can play with your balls..." "Get on your knees, what's the goddam problem here?" She put her hand between her legs, rubbed her cunt as she knelt down. "Get your hands out of there, you need them to support yourself like a dog on the rug," the wife ordered with obvious glee. Diane threw her a look that tried to kill but failed. The woman calmly pulled her bra back on and snapped it in back. "I know what you want, but you can't have it." "Owww!" Diane cried as Carl forced his cock between her ass cheeks. He didn't slow down or lubricate himself. She felt the burning pain as the cock head made it past the tight muscle, then kept going. He grabbed her hips at the waist and pulled her close until he was planted completely inside her ass. "You don't lube up in here, do you?" he asked with amazement. She was crying, managed to stammer out "what do you mean?" "It's dry. I don't like it. It's not comfortable." She felt him yank his cock out, then saw him stand up. "Lick it to get it wet." "It's already been in my ass, you creep!" she shouted. "I'm not going to lick it!" He grabbed her by the hair and picked her up from the ground. "Then go get something to wash me up with, and do it quick." He let go and she collapsed on the floor. "Go on, now!" She pulled herself up and walked into the bathroom. On the way, she grabbed her purse. Now, she understood the KY lubricant in the package. How considerate of them, she thought with anger. There were gold knobs on the hot and cold water, a grim reminder of where she was. She turned the HOT knob on and reached for a washcloth. While the water was heating up, she she twisted the top off the tube and squeezed some of the lube onto her fingers. "Hurry up!" came Carl's voice. "I don't want to wash you with cold water, do I?" she called back. She shoved her fingers tentatively around her asshole, then just the tips inside. She didn't know how the jelly should be applied, but smearing it around the rim would at least provide some relief. After a few minutes, she felt ready to go back into the room. She put on her softest voice and sexiest face. "Here we are, honey. Let me clean you up a bit." She pressed the warm washcloth against his cock and watched him roll his eyes. "This is going to be so wonderful for you. Have you ever fucked ass before?" She massaged the cloth slowly, hoping against hope to make him spill into her hands before he came to his senses. "Don't know, but I DO know what you're doing. Clean me and let's get on with this." She looked up and saw that his eyes were wide open and he was not looking happy. Diane finished cleaning his cock, then took the head into her mouth. She wanted to soak it as much as she could before he put it back into her. She felt her saliva glands working and was glad that her mouth wasn't going dry on her from fear. She realized that there was no way out - this man's cock was going to cum inside her ass. After a few minutes, she accepted her fate and was ready. "There we go, honey. Now, go on around to the back door, hmm?" She went on her hands and knees in front of him and raised her ass. He knelt down and pushed himself into her again. This time, she was ready and there was less pain. He groaned immediately, sank to the hilt, and pulled her close. "Oh, Helen, this is just like I thought it would be!" he cried to his wife. Diane wanted it to be over, so she began to rock back and forth. "Sit still! I want to feel this." She stopped moving. "That's so nice and tight. Why don't you twitch that spinchter for me?" She had a sick feeling - how long was this going to take? She squeezed for him and he let out a cry. "Ahhh! Heaven. Again." She did it again. When she released, he pulled out and slammed it home. "Now, every time I push, you squeeze, got it?" She doubted she could coordinate, doubted he'd notice, but said "yes". He pulled himself back, nearly popping out, but then reamed it deep into her again. She groaned, it was starting to hurt. "Snap that ass, bitch!" he ordered. She did and he pulled out again. He fucked her over and over, she could tell he was going as deep as he could, sometimes he noticed when she would squeeze, sometimes he didn't. She was crying, wishing she could touch herself, or that he would just do the slighty mercy of reaching around underneath her and help her get off. But she couldn't and he didn't. "How's she look, hon?" Carl yelled to his wife. "Like she's taking a beating," she replied. "She is. Carl's Big Love Monster is doing her for everything she's worth! Ya hoo!" Over and over he pulled and pushed, going hard against her bowels and hanging onto her hair like he was riding a pony. She sobbed and cried, the tears streaming down her face, her neck, dropping onto her hands there on the floor under her. Finally, he gave out a yell and pushed harder than before. He unloaded his cum into her asshole, shaking himself up and down, nearly toppling them both. When he was done, he pulled out and lay back on the floor. "Clean me up," he ordered. She wiped her face with her hands, reached for the washcloth. He lay there watching her as she gently wiped his cock and balls clean of his cum, her saliva, the lube, and dried bits of shit from her asshole. When she was finished, she stood up and walked toward the bathroom. "Where are you going?" his wife asked. "To clean up," Diane answered feebly. "I don't think so. I never heard of that, and I'm not interested in your slut germs all over my bathroom. Put on your clothes and get out of her." "Can I at least wash my face?" "Did you hear me? Pick up your clothes and get out of here. Take the money, it's on the table by the door." She pulled on the thong, feeling the cum and shit dripping into the tiny piece of fabric. She pulled on her skirt, shoes, and blouse and walked to the door. There was a small mirror on the back of the door. What she saw there shocked her. She'd wore only light mascara, so there were no black rivers running down her face, but her hair was completely wild and her eyes were red and puffy from crying through the ordeal. "Good bye, Cindy," the wife called. Diane picked up the money, opened the door, and walked out into the hall. + + + end of Chapter 6 -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----