Karen thought that – after the ordeal with the cops – they’d be going to a nude beach only to find there were a lot of adults going about, but they were all DRESSED! She couldn’t go there looking ravaged – her ass hurt! – and naked!
So she pleaded out loud this time around, knowing subtle cues didn’t work last time.
“Karen… what did I tell you that first time? I told you that if you’d question me, I’d have to punish you. Well… this is your punish.”
Karen regretted ever saying anything at all. For what did she have to do? Proposition an older man to letting her suck his cock.
Becky found having Karen as her bitch was so much fun! She watched as the girl forced herself to say the words she had relegated her to say…
“Please sir! I wonder if you would help me out, I’m low on my calorie uptake and I need your cum, may I service you?”
The unsuspecting man who looked old enough to be her grandfather, looked at her naked body and said…
“And what do I get in return, girl?” – Becky laughed inwardly at the look of fear in Karen’s eyes. Served the girl right for not learning her place fast.
“I’ll do anything you want.” – she said quickly and sad.
“Well… I think I want you to let me fuck you. I’ll explode inside of you, though. I don’t like wasting my cum.” – he said.
She nodded.
So he fucked her first and then let her lick his cum off his penis after he did so, but didn’t expect the man to want another round again and so soon. Becky’s eyebrow lifted in surprise, but was pleased that Karen got used so thoroughly.
After lunch, Becky made Karen – also in punishment, this time for letting the man take her twice without Becky’s and Tim’s permission – go to the bathroom with the door wide open for anyone who passed by to get the sight of Karen either urinating or cleaning her pussy lips carefully with water and soap. Karen was humiliated to see so many people coming and going, some stayed where they were and watched. Others, more bold; came closer towards her and took pictures of her stretched open pussy and of her tits and her face.
She dreaded what they were about to make her do next.
Becky put sunscreen on her once again and then told her to go swimming.
When Karen returned from the ‘refreshing’ swim, because if anything it wasn’t refreshing at all. Many men and women came to touch her, whether a finger or two. She didn’t like it one bit, but she endured. After all, she was naked and everyone at the beach knew it. It was if she was asking for it.
Then Tim came up and said that she was to lie down and get some sun on top of the sand, no beach towel for her, and spread her legs wide open. Everyone who hadn’t seen the spectacle of her being taken twice by an old man like a whore, could see her pussy lips in all its detail. Then Tim himself put the sunblock on her skin and even on her pussy lips forcing her major labia to open again due to the stimulation of his fingers’ massage. She hoped that whatever was coming next wouldn’t hurt her ego so much.
She should have known by then, there was nothing she could do to stop herself from being humiliated once again.
At one point in time she fell asleep and then half-awakened by Becky, she was given a dildo again and told to fuck herself silly with it. Once the lust made her fully awaken, she wished she hadn’t opened her eyes to find a crowd looking at her masturbate herself with a dildo. She blushed once again, but she found she couldn’t stop.
She heard the murmurs of the women in the crowd and felt deeply humiliated. They called her slut, whore. Someone however said that maybe she was being made to do this, blackmailed and that’s what all the prompt Becky needed to order her softly to say…
“Say: ‘I like doing this.’ Say: ‘I love to exhibit my pussy to everyone around.’ Say: ‘I am a slut because I want to be a slut.’ Say these things now and very loud Karen. Look at them in the eye when you say it, make them believe you.” – she whispered to her.
“Sorry people, but my friend is a bit of a sex fiend and can’t go without fucking herself at least once a day. So sorry if it offends you.” – she heard Becky say out loud.
“I-I like doing this a lot. I’m an exhibitionist at heart. I’m a slut because I want to be a slut. I’m a slut because I like being a slut.” – she heard herself say and forced herself to look at the women in the eye. And then she forced herself to say the one thing Becky was subtly pushing her to say: “I’m not ashamed of admitting I love doing this in public.”
Her reputation was in shambles now. There was no going back now.
There were some stares of admiration, others of pity. More women turned their heads away from the spectacle she presented. Many men began to take pictures with their cellphones left and right. And she let go of her inhibitions knowing she’d regret doing so later. She moaned and acted like a slut. She touched her tits the way she did whenever she had privacy and she was horny. She fucked herself silly right then and there.
The wave crashed on her like a hammer truck and she was surprised to feel that she ejaculated. And she felt so boneless and sleepy that she didn’t see anything else after that.
On Sunday night, Tim dropped Karen off on her bed and shook his head grinning. He saw Becky getting every single bit of Karen’s clothes and putting them in a bag. She even denuded the bed she was lying on. He wanted to see how Karen would deal with this on Monday morning on her way to school, since she had virtually nothing to wear.
The school was informed by a letter to the dean about Karen’s decision of becoming a nudist. While there wasn’t a uniform to be had in the school’s regulation and procedures legal handbook, this sort of thing was unheard of. But the letter Karen ‘wrote’ was so matter of fact that the dean was forced to accept to let the girl do as she pleased. She had basically good grades so far.
Karen was stupefied to see her apartment bared of anything resembling clothes. There was a phone call and then she knew who had done this.
“Karen… you’re going to be late for class you know. By the way, I can’t come and pick you up today so you’ll have to take the bus. If I don’t see you in school at lunch Karen, there will be consequences to be had.” – Becky said as she gave her ultimatum and hung up.
Karen was forced to take her books, after having a bath and drying herself up with a tiny kitchen towel and leave her apartment despite wearing nothing at all. She shivered lightly at the cool air that signaled fall was just around the corner and wondered what would she do then not to catch a cold.
The walk to the bus stop was harsh, because despite wearing socks and sneakers, she was in pain. She was in pain, because everyone and their mother scowled at her walking around in the nude. Only she wasn’t just nude, she was naked. Her pussy opened up a bit wet due to the exhilaration she felt – due to her acute embarrassment – and her nipples were so hard they hurt. Worst was that the bus was filled to the brim and she could feel that a couple of people cupped a feel of her tits, her butt, and one daring man dared to put his finger inside her wet pussy – she was even further humiliated to realize that the man knew this excited her! – and finger fucked her until his stop came by, in which he grabbed her clitoris and pulled sharply making her orgasm just by the sheer surprise of being violated in public like that.
She was lucky however, that no one raped her. Although it did come close to that.
When she had to stop, she was unlucky enough that she was way in the back and that even if she called the stop three blocks early, she still ended up having to walk two blocks back. Which was worse since she had to pass a gas station where there were lots of customers filling up their tanks. What a luck!
Her first teacher of the day, looked at her from head to toe and then said: “I’ve been notified of your predicament. For being made to suffer this, I’m going to make you do something at the end of the class for the viewing pleasure of all of your classmates here.”
She blushed heavily at that. She couldn’t imagine what on earth the old man would do.
At the end of the class, she found out. She was made to bend over at the waist without bending her knees and open her butt cheeks so everyone – again! – could see her pussy in all its detail. And then… what was worst, the professor hit her pussy twelve times with his open palm!
It hurt! It really hurt.
But what was more humiliating was how he made her lick his wet palm due to the juices on it. And then the teacher communicated her that everyday she’d be made to do something like that, to show her that even though she wanted to be a nudist; others didn’t have to be imposed upon her wants.
Most of her classmates snickered at her, some girls called her a slut. She felt humiliated.
She was close to crying when her literature teacher made her sit down on the teachers desk with her legs wide open and bade to read out loud each and every time the teacher wished her to do. Being forced to expose herself like that and it only was the second period, made her feel really self-conscious. It was made worse by her own reaction to the conditioning she had been forced to serve the week before and her pussy immediately began to drip pussy juice on the floor. The teacher – disgusted and fascinated at the same time – told a student to get a janitor and get him to clean up.
The janitor, a lecherous old guy got an up close view of her vagina and her pussy lips and her standing at attention like a tiny cock, clitoris. He left the rag on the floor and left with a smile on his lips. She blushed even further than before.
On her way to the library, she was met with several voyeurs. And then when she saw the steps… she almost cried. Everyone saw her opening up her legs and climbing up the stairs, providing a view most guys almost died for. A nerd who was putting books back on the shelves decided to squat down right next to her when she was looking for a book. When she tremulously asked him where she could find the book, he directed her elsewhere. When she came back and found the book she wanted was on the bottom of the shelf and that she had to squat, she became even more nervous at the idea that as she would do this, everyone who was at the other side of the shelf – which was empty except for the book she wanted – would be given the view to her pussy. Not that everyone had already seen her, but it was the principle of the thing.
Later, when she went to the photocopy machine, someone pushed her from behind and forced her to go down on her knees and fetch her change. She was blushing the whole time she spent on the ground gathering her change, because she was sure everyone was focusing their eyes on her naked butt.
After finally managing to get what she needed for an assignment, she left the library and went down to the cafeteria.
When she found Becky, she was shocked to see Michael sitting next to her and wanted to hide, but found she couldn’t since they had already seen her.
“Hey babe!” – he called over and once again drew attention to the naked chick. She was deeply embarrassed.
He motioned her over and smiled charmingly.
“Becky told me you said you liked being naked. I went to the dean this morning to get a absence permission slip and he told me about your letter.”
Karen despaired. What letter? She hadn’t written any letter!
“That must have taken guts Karen!” – Becky said in an extremely sweet voice.
She was incredulous of Becky’s behavior. She acted like she didn’t know what was going on as she sat down next to Michael. Michael decided he wanted to get frisky with her and began to part her legs. She decided that she didn’t wanted that, but a glare from Becky told her to once again resign herself from getting used.
She didn’t say anything, but she could tell that everyone – even if they weren’t directly looking at her – could tell what she was doing or rather what Michael was doing.
“You like this, don’t you? You little heathen! You should’ve told me you loved to be naked this much. I would’ve supported you all the way!” – Michael stage whispered in her ear.
And then he began to finger fuck her all the while eating his salad like this was an everyday occurrence. Karen was dismayed to realize that there was nothing she could say or do to change Michael’s mind about her anymore. She was seriously screwed.
She must have orgasmed at least three times – two quietly and the other one not so quiet with all the moaning she gave at the end – and realized that she was a slut. There was no way around it. She was a slut and she enjoyed doing this for real!
The day ended when Michael took her home. He came in and she was surprised to find that her clothes, her towels, her bed sheets, everything were all there! Nothing was out of norm. she looked fearfully at Michael as he seemed to be thinking hard about something. She wondered if she could go back to wearing the usual clothes and forget all of this happened in the first place, but Michael sat down and pulled out a thick folder. She wavered for a minute wondering what that could be.
“Babe, would you sit down a minute? I was expecting to not come back until next week, but Tim called me and said that you had decided on being a nudist.”
Now with Becky out of the way, she could finally say the truth…
“No… it isn’t that. I… I… was being blackmailed by Becky with a couple of pictures you took of me naked.” – she confessed, hoping against hope that Michael would stay true and become the gentleman she always suspected him to be.
“Karen. I don’t know if you remember but, that first time we slept together, we were drunk as skunks. And you said whilst I was fucking you that you wished you could be like all the girls who weren’t as self-conscious of their bodies as you were with yours. So, I asked you if you liked being naked in public… you said yes to all my questions… including public nudity. Now you may have been drunk, but that doesn’t mean you were lying.” – he said as he began to pull out a tape recorder, and a bunch of incriminating photos.
Her heart broke briefly. Her mind almost shattered instantly after her heart broke. She couldn’t believe her boyfriend. He had deliberately used her.
“You used me.” – she said.
“Maybe. But it was all you. You could’ve protested and stood up for yourself, but you let yourself be manhandled by Becky. It’s obvious to me that you hate touching girls. But you love exposing yourself to the crowd, to everyone and their mother. You love being put in an humiliating position. You can’t have it both ways Karen. Either you like being a slut or you are prim and proper. There’s no in between. So… here it is. Your confession. You confessed to a crowd that you loved to do this, that you liked being exposed to everyone and their mother, that it was your choice to be a slut.”
He played the tape for her and she was horrified to hear her husky voice saying what she had said the day before about liking to be naked in public.
She sat down on the couch.
“So, here’s what we’re going to do. I hold your life in your hands now. You’ll do as I say or risk your parents and love ones learn about how much of a slut you are. You’d kiss your freedom and respect good bye, you know.” – he stated as a matter of fact.
She felt deeply regretful. All this stuff for trusting her boyfriend with her body.
Four years later
Becky was bitter. After Michael had come home, she was surprised to learn he held the ultimate card over her head. She couldn’t blackmail Karen anymore. Karen didn’t like lesbian acts. Karen doesn’t like women period. He said it so definitive that it broke Becky’s heart.
He had gotten hitch with the lovely girl and had a slave at his beck and call. He was successful. And he had gotten to her the same way she did Karen. He blackmailed her with a photo of her going naked for a whole day at a place where most would get arrested for public indecency. Poor naïve her that thought she could beat Michael with a poorly made blackmail.
The END
Simulated Video Propaganda
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Uncensored
https://openload.co/f/-aDOiBdqvtM
https://openload.co/f/xj7iokckfIY
https://openload.co/f/DHj6FUNgTAQ
https://openload.co/f/_zZS7PhhtTo
Story 3
Christy slid thankfully into the pool. It had been a long week and she needed the break to just detox and unwind. Junior year of pre-law/political science, head of the student activities budget panel and founder of the student-run soup kitchen looked good on the resume but they really took everything she had to juggle it all.
She wondered if things would be easier, down the line, or just as hard. She had her life all mapped out; from ADA to DA to judge to Senator. Who knows, she might even become President some day. She’d just have to figure out that fine balance between femininity and discipline that had finally brought Hillary Clinton down. A few tears and she was an emotional wreck but before then she was frigid and inhuman? Fortunately, Christen had a couple of decades to work that part out.
The spot she’d discovered was the perfect place to sooth the tension out of her body. Deep in the forest by the college, there was a Geo-thermal hot-spring. Somehow, a tiny meandering stream had found its way over the small cliff that bordered one side and into the same pool. As a result, one side held the chilled water of the brook while the other steamed from the spring.
Sometimes, Christy would brace herself with a shower from the waterfall and then jump over to the hot side. Other times, she would lounge in the steaming heat and let her troubles boil away. Other times, like today, she would relax on the shelf just inside the pool and enjoy the conflicting temperatures on either side.
Christy’s arm dropped from the side of the pool as her hand slipped under the water. The spring wasn’t the only thing to provide heat. Although he droned on and on, Professor Masculine was difficult to watch and not fantasize about. Men who looked that good shouldn’t be teachers. Their mere presence distracted female students too much for retention, particularly when the subject was so boring!
If not for the warm spring temperatures, she could have blamed her diamond hard nipples on the weather. As it was, she knew the real problem was how long it had been since she’d been with a guy. A guy who wanted to go into politics could do whatever he wanted in his youth. Bill had inhaled and Dubai hadn’t even bothered to deny his partying. A woman, however, would be instantly labeled promiscuous and hedonistic.
In the absolute solitude of nature, however, she could at least pretend. Her hand slid beneath the water. She didn’t imagine anyone specific, as her hand slid across her trim stomach. Better to let the anonymous man of her dreams form into reality. It was his hand that reached up to pluck at her nipple, while the other gently sought access between her tightly closed legs.
Christy relaxed further and spread her legs slightly. The tips of her fingers brushed against the already swollen bud of her clit and elicited a moan of relief. Electricity seemed to jump straight from her groin to her breast in a circuit of pure pleasure.
Her fingers began to flicker back and forth. Sensitivity increased with each twitch. Once fully aroused, she switched tactics and began to press harder. Instead of flicks, her ministrations became a slow massage that pressed her swollen clit and excited the nerves deeper in her core.
Her breath began to catch. She had to fight the instinct to roll her hips into the motion. She wanted the pleasure to build slowly. There never seemed to be enough time to escape out here. She had to make it last. Unfortunately, her body remembered how long it had been just as surely as her mind did and had other ideas.
It seemed like she lost control over her own fingers. Before she knew it, her pace had crept from leisurely to frantic as her hand swirled circles around the base of, and occasionally across, her clit. She tried to slow herself down only to run afoul of a pulse of pleasure that ripped a loud, heartfelt moan from her lips.
Christy leaned her head back. Her body shook with the need so quickly built within her. Somehow, the tempo never faltered. Her own sure hands continued to pluck and grind and build her interest and excitement. The pressure that began between her hips built and spread until it consumed her entire frame. Fire seemed to burn in her veins, unaffected by the misty splash of chilled water from the fall.
Pleasure began to spill over as the first hints of orgasm crashed through her. Without missing a beat, two fingers dove farther between her legs. Her palm continued to caress her flaming mound but it was almost incidental to the joy that her fingers drove deep inside. They fought against the spasming muscles and spread her wide, even as they traced out the most sensitive spots buried within her core.
Fingers might not be as good as the real thing, but they were a decent substitute. Tears sprang to her eyes with the joy of release after too long cooped up by roommates and classes and responsibilities. She allowed her moans free reign to wander the thick forest as she called out her wonder.
Too soon, the sensations began to subside. She could never keep herself going long enough, it seemed. Her hands shook and broke the perfect rhythm. Her muscles went lax and could not drive as hard or as deep. Even her mind became accustomed to the lessening degree of pleasure.
Christy slumped back against the edge of the pool. Her limbs drifted in the water, as boneless as some sort of aquatic plant. Her head lolled lazily against the grass and she stared up at the puffy clouds high above. Eventually, she would have to get back to her programmed future and the stress it entailed. Until the alarm on her watch blared, she could simply relax and let the world drift by, safe in her solitude.
“Fucking bastard asshole of a shithead!”
Christy stared down at the envelope in her hands in disbelief. She knew she could get in trouble if the wrong people heard her talk like that, or worse, recorded it, but it didn’t exactly matter to her at that moment. The torrent of curses wanted to stream out of her at an unbelievable rate and only a sheer force of willpower kept it in check.
Classes were over for the day, so she’d decided to hop by the Union Building to check her mail and grab a bite to eat. Food was now the last thing on her mind. She flipped the manilla envelope over and glared at the neat penmanship that spelled out her name and box number. She had to respect the intelligent mind that produced such diligent letters even if she condemned it to the lowest levels of Hell for all eternity.
Christy clutched the envelope tightly to her breast and scurried out of the way of the other students anxious to check their mail. It didn’t take long to find a relatively secluded corner to press herself into. She kept the envelope close to her body as she pulled out the note and accompanying pictures.
The note had been typed. It was probably from one of the computers in the lab. The information on it was sparse and to the point. Meet the mysterious sender at a specific booth in the corner of one of the restaurants on campus that catered to those who preferred to avoid the cafeterias. Just to make sure she complied, there were three accompanying eight-by-ten glossies.
The quality of the pictures was really quite remarkable. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought they came from a professional shoot with the photographer only a few feet away. As it was, she hadn’t even seen the camera.
The first picture had been taken while she stripped for the pool. Whoever had taken it had gotten lucky. Although the pose screamed of a candid shot, the quality suggested that it had actually been a carefully scripted scene designed to look off-the-cuff. Even the moment she’d been frozen in had that pin-up feel; her pants just below her butt as she bent over to take them off, the cleft of her ass and groin in primary focus but with her breasts clearly visible in soft focus to one side.
There’d been more than one person who’d questioned her desire to get into politics. They’d insisted that she had the looks to model. She’d always assumed they were just out to get in her pants and flattery was the best method available. Unfortunately, the photos in her hand belied that theory.
The next picture had been taken just after the first. As part of her ritual of escapism, she used the waterfall as a quick shower. It helped to relax her, almost as if some ritual of purification and cleansing, before she sank into the pool.
Once more, her back was to the camera. This time, she was completely naked, her firm, round, ass exposed to the world. Her hands were tangled in her hair as she worked the water through it and tried to pick out a knot. The position of her arms allowed a hint of her bare breasts to peek around the sides of her body. The clincher was the way her head was turned. Although her eyes were closed, it gave the impression she played to the camera.
There should have been no question that she was unaware of the photographer in the case of the third picture. No one could possibly believe that she would have allowed herself to have her picture taken while she masturbated. Unfortunately, there were plenty more than enough women out there who did just that. For the right price, or maybe just the cajoling of an especially charismatic artist, some people would do anything.
Ripples in the water prevented a clear image of her hand’s actions. Despite that fact, there could be little doubt what the picture portrayed. The blissful expression on her face, the slightly parted lips and round mouth, the way her head lolled back, all spoke of a woman in the middle of orgasm. The fact that her fingers pinched at her large, pert, nipple was almost excessive.
Christy knew what the pictures and note meant. She could not afford to allow them to get out there. Never mind her dream of politics, she’d have difficulties being taken seriously as a lawyer, much less a judge, with these in public. Her rivals would find them and make certain to spread them around, discreetly, in order to discredit her. There was no choice but to see what the photographer wanted.
It was always possible that she’d gotten lucky and managed to pick up her mail just before the appointed time. Unfortunately, she suspected that the person who sent them to her knew her routine well enough to time it properly. Enough time had been built into the window that she wouldn’t have had to worry if something had distracted her but otherwise it left her the opportunity to immediately take care of the situation.
No, there was little doubt in Christy’s mind that the blackmailer knew her very well indeed. While it was possible that someone had stumbled upon her as she relaxed in supposed solitude, the likelihood that they had quality camera along with them was vanishingly thin. Even if both of those were taken as a coincidence, that same person had to have researched her to find out who she was and where to send the photos.
She suspected that it was a male, though she couldn’t absolutely rule out the possibility that it was a woman. Something about the choice of pictures suggested that her voyeur had intimately appreciated the view. Those could have been the best out of a large number of hastily snapped shots but they had been chosen for erotic content as much as artistic quality.
Christy’s head swiveled as she walked into the dimly lit basement restaurant. It wasn’t all that crowded, yet, which was good. It meant that there weren’t very many people around who might accidentally discover the situation. Unfortunately, it was public enough that she couldn’t simply murder her tormentor and hide the body. That particular plan might not be terribly practical but it had a certain visceral appeal given her current mood.
As expected, there was a young man at the table specified by the note. The open textbook in front of him and half-eaten burger off to one side suggested that he’d decided to take in a meal while continuing his studies. That certainly would explain why he’d chosen to avoid the cafeteria. They were always noisy, regardless of the time of day.
Christy hadn’t decided how she wanted to handle this. She wasn’t sure if a particular approach might be more or less likely to get the pictures posted on the web. She wanted to go right up to the table, slam down the envelope, and demand to know what he thought he was doing. If the table had already been occupied when her blackmailer had arrived, however, it might not even be the right person. Then she’d have to figure out a way to explain herself to a stranger without revealing the photos she already had.
In the end, she sidled over to the booth and stood quietly at the end. When it became clear he either wasn’t likely to notice her or would continue to pretend not to, she cleared her throat slightly and spoke up. “Do you mind if I sit down?”
His eyes never left the book in front of him. A quiet grunt accompanied the smallest wave of his hand in the direction of the opposite side of the table. She took that to be acquiescence and slid into the booth.
She studied him as intently as he seemed to be engrossed in his book. He seemed vaguely familiar but she couldn’t place him. Even on the smallest of college campuses there were always people who you didn’t run into. And even the largest of universities had places where all of the students passed through at least a couple of times a week.
He wasn’t bad looking. The short-sleeved polo shirt showed arms that were fit, if not overly muscled. He had a strong jaw, smooth even features and bright blue eyes. His short brown hair spiked off at odd angles in a manner that suggested slightly disheveled but not in a disorganized way that automatically suggested mental instability.
In short, he was a man who would look good for the cameras. It was something Christy instinctively noticed. As little as she liked the truth, she had long since begun to judge people by first appearances. Her political career would need to be marked by appearances with her family in order to impress those values on her. The man who stood by her side would need to be photogenic.
His choice of studies was interesting. The textbook seemed to be something from theatrical history. If he was the one who’d taken the photographs, it would make sense. He clearly had plenty of artistic abilities. Though she admitted that he didn’t look like most of the art majors. Most gloried in the subcultures. He would look downright conservative mixed in with that crowd.
“I take it you got my message?”
The young man’s voice was quiet enough that none beyond the booth would hear but solid enough to exude confidence. Christy envied him that. It spoke of a natural charisma that she had to work to achieve. Not for the first time, she wondered what he could need with the photos.
“I did.” Christy replied, setting the envelope on the table.
He finally looked up from the book. After a glance at the envelope, he returned to his book, carefully marked the page he was on then closed it. When his eyes finally came up to meet hers, she felt a spark jolt through her body. If just a look in his eyes caused that, she definitely needed to be jealous of his charisma.
“What do you want?” Christy quickly blurted, uncomfortable with how the strange scene was already headed. “And how can I be sure, if you get it, that the pictures won’t get out anyway?”
“I’ll answer the second question first.” He replied. Even his voice was perfect. The baritone sounds rolled off of his tongue and seemed to nestle within her body in a relaxing massage. If not for the situation, she would have loved to hear him speak for hours.
“They really are works of art. The expression of pure human emotion coupled with the perfection of the human body. They could easily be hung in the finest museums and no one would think twice. No one would dare call them filth or pornographic, despite the erotic content.
“I took the pictures with an old fashioned camera. Loathe as I am to give them up, you’ll have the negatives and every copy of the pictures. I haven’t scanned them, yet, so you wouldn’t need to fear that, should you get them.”
“What do you want?” Christy growled. Even the man’s charm wasn’t enough to remove the edge of anger, frustration and worry from her tone. She could imagine any number of things that he might demand and few of them were good. After all, if his motivation was positive, why would he resort to such underhanded tactics?
“Simple.” He immediately replied. “I’d like a date, of sorts. Just the one and afterward, you’ll have the envelope with the pictures and the negatives.”
Christy didn’t bother to ask what the catch was. Her imagination was more than up to the task for that, particularly in light of what he’d already seen. It wasn’t often that a voyeur got a chance to actually indulge in his fantasies.
“I imagine you have something specific in mind? That we can’t just get this out of the way now?”
The smile he offered her was genuine and friendly. Christy cursed her traitor body. Not only had it gotten her into this mess with its demands but it now responded to the evil bastard on the other side of the table. The warmth that nestled between her legs she could ignore but the way a simple smile caused her heart to flutter was absolutely unacceptable.
“You are correct. I do have something specific in mind.” He confirmed. “Besides, we couldn’t get it out of the way now since you have a funding committee meeting to attend and I, alas, am otherwise occupied. I can give you a call, later, to fill you in on the specifics, however.”
It was clearly a dismissal. Christy angrily scooped up the envelope as she stood up. She would burn them at the first possible chance but until then they weren’t leaving her sight. After another brief glare at the handsome young man, she turned to storm off. Her theatrical exit was ruined by his voice.
“Christy.” She turned and glared at him once more. “I thought you might like to know, my name is David, by the way.”
Christy cursed the blush that crept across her face. She’d never thought to ask. She hadn’t even thought he be willing to offer it. He was, after all, exerting criminal influence over her. At the same time, all he’d asked for was a date, even if she was fairly certain it wasn’t going to be for dinner and a movie.
She nodded, to show she’d heard and understood, then stormed off. Unconcerned, he’d already returned to his studies.
It was strange. This wasn’t even close to what Christy had envisioned when Dave had demanded a date. The obvious expectations had been a quick meeting somewhere, maybe for coffee, and then a return to his apartment. After all, with the photos still in his possession, he didn’t exactly need to wine and dine her in order to get anything he wanted.
Once there, she expected to play submissive to him. The kinkiest fetishes had sprung to mind. All the while, she would be demeaned while he used her as his personal slave. Her only real hope had been that she would have been able to convince him to use a condom.
What Christy hadn’t expected was a weekend getaway. She’d tried to protest that she was too busy for any such thing but he had insisted. He’d also pointed out that not only was it close enough to the end of the semester that there would be little activity beyond the term-long projects, which he was correctly certain she had already finished.
The clincher was that he had realized how much she needed to get away and rest. She’d found it difficult to believe that she’d have very much of a chance to truly relax, much less rest, during their weekend together. Even if he didn’t fill her time with his perverse demands, the constant worry over whether or not he would fulfill his end of the bargain would remain over her head.
She’d packed for it as he’d ‘suggested’. She had a bathing-suit and a couple of outfits suitable for a rough, casual, weekend. Whatever he’d packed had been in the trunk when he’d arrived at her apartment so it wasn’t until they reached their destination that she understood the nature of their “sort of” date.
Christy hadn’t expected to be outdoors. When they parked at a small lot in the middle of nowhere, she’d had vague concerns that she would end up a statistic, vanished in the middle of the woods. To her surprise, he’d suggested that she call a friend and let them know roughly where they’d be and what they’d be up to. While she made the call, he’d put on a hiking backpack loaded with camping supplies.
There was little surprise that he only had one tent. What did shock her was that he’d thoughtfully provided a second sleeping-bag. If he expected them to sleep together, he’d at least provided the illusion that she would have a choice.
The sight he’d chosen was beautiful! There was a cliff just beyond the trees that surrounded a small clearing. A lake spread out from the base in every direction. While a narrow path led straight from their camping spot to the water, there was even a rope tied to a large tree for anyone adventurous enough to dive.
Once the camp had been set, Dave had proceeded to make them lunch. He was a surprisingly good cook, considering the relative lack of amenities. It wasn’t exactly five-star cuisine but it was hearty, with a subtle blend of spices that worked well with the primitive nature of the fire. During the meal, and after, he’d talked amicably and slowly drawn her into the conversation.
When he’d suggested they go for a swim, Christy had been certain he would begin with his demands. He hadn’t once hinted, on the car ride or throughout the meal, at the method in which he’d obtained the date. Not once had he made a demand. Even his suggestions had been couched in such a manner that she had felt she could honestly refuse.
Not that she’d felt the need. Everything he’d planned, so far, had been in accord with something she would do with friends, much less on a date. Christy had found it harder and harder to begrudge him the method he’d used to get her out there. Aside from some, apparently unfounded, fear and anxiety, he hadn’t hurt her in any way.
Maybe he just hadn’t felt confident that she would accept a more legitimate proposition. He probably wasn’t wrong, either. After all, even with the that of blackmail hanging over her head, she’d resisted. In the end, however, it seemed the outing really was exactly what she needed.
The swim had been refreshing. The water was cool but not beyond tolerance. The heat in the air had caused a slight mist to rise from the lake that added to the fantastical atmosphere of the day.
If he’d sent quite a bit more than an admiring glance or two at her two-piece bikini, that was only fair. After all, she’d openly admired the way he filled out his trunks. Nor had she missed the smooth muscles of his stomach and chest.
David, in fact, had left the water quite a bit before Christy did. She’d been impressed that he hadn’t made a single move and wondered what had caused him to leave when she noticed the sky had begun to darken. She slipped out of the water and only halfway up the path she heard the crackle of a fire in answer to her unspoken question.
The fire was inspired. She didn’t know if he had brought a towel, but she certainly hadn’t thought about it. When she packed, she’d expected he would take her to some secluded pool, maybe even in the backyard of a house. There had been little doubt in her mind that there would be towels available anywhere they went swimming.
Christy took a seat by the fire while he put the finishing touches on dinner. The night air had cooled quickly but the delicious warmth of the flames kept it at bay. Soon after, another remarkable meal was in her hands and then stomach. Meanwhile, they continued to discuss any variety of subjects.
The most remarkable thing, however, was the amount that the two had in common. True, he had a minor in performing arts but he shared her poly-sci major. Although he was a year older than she was, and about to graduate, they’d actually had a few classes together. That had been the reason he’d looked familiar when she first regarded him.
“…don’t get me wrong, I have to respect your path.” Dave said during a discussion about their respective futures. “You have dedication and drive. The slow, steady, route is almost guaranteed to get you into office. Only some truly random tragedy could possibly block you.
“Even if it does, however, you still have the legal aspect to fall back on. As a lawmaker, you could just as easily switch tracks and shoot for the Supreme Court. It’s admirable, really. Whereas I, on the other hand, will rely entirely on charisma and an ability to read and play crowds in order to get elected. Quicker but much less certain.”
Christy nodded, as she thought it over. She knew plenty of mountebanks in office. They were the ones who promised anything, or worse still spouted nothing but rhetoric, in order to get elected. It bothered her a little that he not only admitted to being one of them but seemed proud of it. Of course, the method he’d chosen to get her there didn’t speak any more highly of his ethics.
Christy forced back that dark cloud of thought. He’d been nothing but nice to her the entire day. He’d brought her to a beautiful expanse of nature. He’d cooked her not one but two meals. He’d forced her to relax when she wouldn’t have allowed her sparse friends to drag her away from what she perceived as the entirety of her world; her future.
He’d also just said something that she’d missed. “Sorry. Lost in a train of thought. What was that?”
Dave smiled that groin-clenching smile of his and waved a hand to indicate her inattention wasn’t a problem. “I asked if you were still wet from swimming. You were shivering a little.”
The question confused Christy for a moment. Despite the cooling air, she wasn’t even remotely cold. The warmth of the fire soaked into her body. She even admitted that the sight across from her, his smooth skin and tight muscles, the delicious bulge in his swimsuit, warmed her from the inside out.
“I’m mostly dry.” Christy responded honestly. The stump on which she’d chosen to sit was low enough that she’d been forced to keep her knees locked together or else spread her legs a bit too suggestively wide. She’d chosen the former but that had kept the fire from completely drying the bikini bottoms.
“You should turn around. Let the fire warm up the rest of you.”
Christy had begun to move even before she suddenly recognized the subtle edge within his voice. The tone and suggestion all sounded perfectly reasonable but there was no mistake it had been more than simply an idle suggestion. Worse still, she already stood with her back to the fire before she fully realized what had happened.
“You’re still too far away for it to effectively warm you up. If you kneel down and bend forward your suit should be dry in minutes.” This time, his voice was softer, almost too low to be heard.
Once more, it sounded like a reasonable suggestion. She resisted for a moment, though. What he wanted was pretty clear. From his position, on the other side of the fire, he would have a clear, well lit, view of her ass and crotch. Still, the hint of command had been there. He’d been more than accommodating so far, considering the lengths he could have gone to. Maybe all he wanted was to leer at her.
Much to her surprise, he didn’t make a move towards her. She could practically feel his gaze on the white v-shaped bottom, as it hugged her ass, covered her pussy and delved up the front. Still, he seemed content to watch. He even restarted the conversation!
“You really do have to watch yourself more closely than a man would, don’t you? Your personal life, I mean. Not just who you date but who you’re seen hanging out with.”
“Mmmmhmmm.” Christy mumbled. She wondered how long she would have to remain in the position. There was no question that it would inspire thoughts of doggy-style for Dave. Hell, it did for her! Together, with the topic of conversation, it reminded her how long it had been since she’d gotten any, much less from behind.
She liked doggy-style. There was something about the way it let her feel like she completely relinquished control to the man. It was something she couldn’t afford to do normally. Too many men took it as a sign of dominance and began to think they were more important. That their plans and future was more important.
That particular line of thoughts forced her to notice the warmth that pulsed between her hips. Maybe it was the fire. By now, her bikini would be fully dry. Still, between his subtle command and the delightful, if maddening, heat that pressed against her almost-fully-exposed lust, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to move.
“‘Family values’ are a bit conflicted. On the one hand, a woman in politics has to have a family but at the same time, any wife and mother isn’t supposed to put little things like political ambition above her duties at home.” Christy responded when he didn’t immediately continue the conversation.
“Damn scarlet letter. It takes two to do the deed but it’s always the woman who gets blamed and accosted.” Dave muttered. Christy wished she could see his face, his reaction. Of course, given that he was a performing arts minor, he could probably school his expression to show whatever he wanted it to.
“How long has it been?”
