The Blackmailed Wife
                             By Peter Jensen
                                Chapter 15


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WARNING:
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for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit
sex. If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upset you, DO NOT read
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All characters are fictitious. Any resemblance to anyone either alive or dead
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"My dear girl, you've been wasting your talents working as a secretary," Max
chuckled a little later, as he unstrapped her still shaking body from the
machine. "We should channel them into something that more befits your
temperament."

Ann stumbled to the bed, collapsing on it, her arms and legs spread obscenely
wide. She couldn't bear to move, even to try and cover herself after the
experience on that dreadful machine. The shame and humiliation of what had
just been done to her was too much for the tormented girl. Not only had her
body betrayed her shamelessly to this beast, but had also betrayed her deep
love for Dave. She had turned into an animal herself, and all thoughts of
decency had deserted her in her wild quest for her own selfish sensual
satisfaction.

She clenched her fists so tightly together, that her knuckles hurt when she
thought of the depths of degradation to which he had brought her. The words he
had made her use, and worse, that he had made her want to use. There was
nothing that she wouldn't do at this moment, if she could just erase these
last few horrid minutes from time forever, and replace them with anything,
anything but what had occurred.

"Here, my dear, I think that you need this," Max interrupted her thoughts, as
he handed her a drink, and a lit cigarette. "But don't drink it too quickly,
we don't want you to get too insensitive, now do we?"

Ann lifted herself exhaustedly to one elbow, and accepted the drink. She
turned the glass up, and almost drained it with one gulp to erase the dry thick
taste of Max's semen in her mouth. He sat on the edge of the bed next to her,
drinking his iced soda, that he had fixed for himself, and ran his hand
languidly over her full rounded hip, that rose in profile, as she lay on her
side. She made no move to stop him, or to pull away from his possessive caress.
She no longer cared, nothing mattered anymore. She had descended as far into
the cesspool of depravity as one could go, in her attempt to regain the
pictures upon which her husband's future happiness rested. Anything else that
happened after this, couldn't be worse, so she resigned herself to suffer his
humiliations, whatever they might be, for the period that they had agreed upon.

"You liked that, didn't you, my dove?" Max said, a triumphant gleam in his
eyes.

Ann's mind suddenly rebelled again at his possessive familiarity, and she had
to strike back at him. She sat up abruptly on the bed.

"Mr. Schroeder," she said, glaring at him coldly. "Please don't call me "my
dear." I've agreed to your terms because you've forced me into it, and I've no
other choice, but I won't give you my soul, Mr. Schroeder, and you can't make
me, no matter what you do."

"Are you so certain, my dear Ann?" Max smiled, his small beady eyes staring
straight back into hers.

"Yes, I'm certain," Ann spat at him, she wanted more than anything in the world
to hurt this vile, little man, because of the indescribable humiliations he had
just heaped upon her helpless bound form. "Look at you, do you think that
anyone could even lie next to you, you fat slimy thing, unless you forced them
to do it, the way you did me, You're revolting and disgusting!"

Almost before the last words were out of her mouth, Ann was sorry. In her
sudden desire to fight back and avenge her own weak surrender, she had
forgotten the reason that she was here. She almost reached for him to apologize
and to say that she didn't really mean those things, but his hard cool stare
cut her short.

"All right, Mrs. Morrow, if that's the way you want it, then that's the way it
shall be."

Max rose from the bed and walked over to the clock, patting its face. He
turned and looked at her crumpled form on the bed.

"Remember the rules, it doesn't start again, until I'm pleased. And believe me,
Mrs. Morrow, I can be very difficult to please once I have become angry."

He pulled his robe together, tying it with the terry-cloth belt and walked
towards the door.

"I'll be back tomorrow, after you've had time to think," he said, his small
cruel eyes penetrating her. "I hope you'll be in a more receptive mood."

With that, the opened the door and left, bolting it behind him. Ann's eyes
flooded with tears. She collapsed on the bed moaning to herself.

"What have I done? Oh God, what have I done now?" Her clenched fists pounded
the bed beside her in frustration. She had never felt so alone and helpless in
her entire life. She sobbed herself into a deep, but troubled sleep, her mind
dwelling on the envelope above, and wondering how much she would have to go
through to start its slow, tortuous descent again. Her pussy felt stretched
and used as it never had before, and her last conscious thought was of the
huge mechanical cock, drubbing ceaselessly in and out of her belly from behind,
while Max had emptied his evil sperm mercilessly into her mouth from the front.

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She awoke with a start. Sidney was standing over her with a large glass of
orange juice.

"Mr. Schroeder said to give you this to keep up your strength, Madam," he said,
maintaining his icy reserve.

Ann crimsoned when she realized that she was still naked. She vainly attempted
to cover herself with her hands, but there were just too many critical exposed
areas to allow it.

"May I have some clothing, please," she asked in an almost whisper, attempting
to maintain as much dignity as possible.

"No madam, Mr. Schroeder instructed that you are to have no clothing or food
until he instructs me."

"But-but I can't just stay here like this. I must at least have something to
cover myself."

"No one will enter, madam, except me, and I'm just not interested. There is a
bathroom with all of the things that you need." Sidney pointed to a door next
to the dressing room Max had shown her last night. "Please don't feel any
animosity toward me, Mrs. Morrow, I am only an employee and follow Mr.
Schroeder's orders."

He left the room, again bolting the door, and left Ann still sitting in the
center of the bed, her arms ineffectually thrown around her exposed breasts
and thighs. As soon as he was out the door, Ann tried the dressing room door.
She remembered it had clothing in it, but it was locked. She went into the
bathroom and found on a dressing table all of the things that a woman needs
for her toilet. There were several packs of cigarettes, and a small silver tray
of the thin brown hashish cigarettes. She looked at them in curiosity. She
hadn't really had the chance to study them in Tijuana, the room had been dark,
but had wondered what they really looked like.

Such a small thing, she mused, and yet so powerful to dissolve one's will. She
thought, at first, of flushing the evil little things down the john, but
decided against it, thinking it might drive Max to further anger. She knew now
that if she was to ever get out of here, she mustn't allow that to happen
again. She left the cigarettes where they were, and brushed her teeth, showered,
and brushed her hair. At least she could maintain the dignity of bodily
cleanliness, if nothing else. This was important to her, and made her feel
better, in spite of her hopeless situation.

When she had finished her toilet, she returned to the large room and began to
cautiously explore it. Last night she had been so upset emotionally, and so
filled with Martinis, that she didn't really remember it clearly. She did
remember the mural and all of its details. How could she forget, she thought,
the way Max had described it, and the language he had used in doing so? The
racks holding the long poles and whips were locked. Undoubtedly, to prevent her
from fishing for the envelope with them. Not that it mattered, the door was
locked, and she had no clothes. What would she do if she was able to get them
down anyway?

In one corner was a large bookcase, that attracted her attention. It must have
held at least two hundred books. The titles were strange, and weren't familiar
to her. They were all bound in beautiful red leather covers, with the titles
in gold. No authors were listed. She pulled one out at random with the title,
"History of Female Self-gratification, Illustrated."

She took the glass of orange juice Sidney had left, a package of cigarettes
and curled up in one of the large, soft chairs that circled the bed with the
book. She was ravenously hungry, in spite of her anxiety, and the orange juice
helped to quell it a bit. She lit a cigarette and began thumbing through the
voluminous pages.

It was the strangest book she had ever read, and at first it revolted her with
its pointed language, but as it progressed, she became more fascinated with
the subject. It explained in lurid detail the methods women used in bringing
about sexual gratification, without the aid of a man. Detailed photographs were
interspersed between the pages of description. One such photograph showed a
strange contraption upon which the woman could lie on her back, and by turning
a bicycle pedal above her, could adjust the rate of speed of a mechanical lover
below. Various sized instruments could be attached to the piston-like device.
There was another of a plain rubber instrument, whose shape caused her to
flush in embarrassment, even though she was alone. It was obviously for hand
use only. Along with the photographs, were detailed histories of each. It
described their uses, the pleasures they could bring, and even in some cases,
detailed drawings of how they might be constructed.

Ann went through several other books, all of which were illustrated and
explained graphically the actions taking place in these illustrations. One had
described and pictured all of the positions of love, with combinations of from
two to five or six people involved. It was similar in detail to the mural, but
illustrated photographically. She was certain that the artists had used some of
these photos for their models, when they had done the painting. They were
similar in subject. Even some of the faces looked the sane.

Ann began to get restless, she had gone through both packs of cigarettes now,
and wondered how long she had been sitting there. It must have been quite a
few hours though, but she had no way of telling. There were no clocks, except
for the one marked off in twenty-four hours, and it was stopped after running
only one hour and forty-three minutes though her ordeal, though it seemed like
it had lasted for days. There were no windows in the room, so she didn't even
have the slightest idea as to whether it was light or dark outside. She was
completely isolated from the world, and this madman could keep her here as long
as he wanted to, as she had told no one where she was going.

Suddenly, she could hear the door opening. She tried to hide the book that she
was reading, but it was too late. Max was in the room before she could get up
and out of the chair. Instead, she pressed it over her breasts to hide as much
of herself as she could. This still left the rest of her exposed, but there
was nothing that she could do about it.

"Well, my dear, I see you've found my little collection of erotic literature.
Does it appeal to you, now that you've tasted some of its secrets?"

Ann held herself back from cursing him, as she felt like doing, as she knew
that it would be a mistake, and she wanted with all her heart to get the clock
running again, and leave this evil place, with the incriminating photographs
dangling over the bed, safely in her possession.

"Yes, I've I've enjoyed them," she lied, in her anxiety to please him.

"I hope you've repented, after your disgraceful outburst last night. I trust
that the time you've had to reconsider your position has enlightened your
sense of logic."

"I-I'll do anything," Ann said, lowering her head in utter defeat. She had
thought a great deal about it, and there was no other way out but do his
complete bidding.

"Good then, shall we have something to eat?"

"Oh, yes, please," the gnawing hunger in her stomach was almost more than she
could bear. She hadn't eaten a thing the day she came here, because of her
dread of the meeting. This would make almost two days since she had anything
in her stomach but the orange juice.

Max rang for Sidney, and he wheeled in a large table of delicious delicacies
that caused Ann's mouth to water, as she thought of tasting it.

"Just leave one chair, Sidney, Mrs. Morrow will be eating on the floor," Max
said slyly, with a wink to the butler.

"What-what-do you mean?" Ann stammered.

"Just what I said, my dear," as he sat down at the lone chair. "This is part
of the game. Sit here beside me on your knees, and I'll feed you. No hands,"
he chuckled, "if you do, no more food."

"Aren't-aren't you going to start the clock now?" Ann looked at him pleadingly.

"No, my dove, this is a practice, to see if you've really repented the way that
you say you have. Now crawl over here like a good little girl."

Ann slumped to the floor from the chair, and began the seemingly endless crawl
to the table. It was the most monstrous humiliation she had been subjected to
yet. To have to sit on her haunches, and beg for her food from this vile
creature was worse even than the physical abuse. Nevertheless, her hunger
overcame her fierce pride, and she made her way to him slowly. She could see
his beady eyes playing with sadistic glee on her large breasts, as they danced
beneath her.

He cut into the pheasant, and crammed his own mouth full with bite after bite.
After what seemed like an eternity to her, he took a small scrap in his greasy
little fingers, and threw it over on the floor some distance away. In her
scramble for it, she could hear his lewd clucking in the background, as he
watched her exposed buttocks swishing tantalizing back and forth in the air as
she greedily lowered her face to the floor, and quickly gulped the morsel down
He continued this torment throughout the meal, making certain that each time he
threw a scrap, that he had a good view of her both crawling after the bits of
food, and then crawling back beside him, before he would throw another.

"I'm giving you practice, my dear, for a friend who's coming by shortly. He
likes his women crawling on the floor. In punishment for your uncalled for
outburst last night, I'm going to let him amuse himself with you for a few
hours."

Despite her still unsatisfied hunger, Ann leaped to her feet beside him.

"You-you mean another man?" she blurted in horror.

"Of course, my love, I told you I would have to discipline you. Besides, I'm
certain that you want the clock to start again. Look, you haven't even begun
to earn your little keepsakes back." he said, pointing to the envelope which
had hardly begun its long descent down to where Ann could reach them.

"But I'm just supposed to please you," the stunned girl whimpered. "You
promised, you promised if I just pleased you."

"Ah, my dear, but it does please me. You see, I'll be watching it all, both
for my own enjoyment, and also to make certain that my friend is happy."

"You mean you're going to be in the room too?" she exclaimed, revulsion
mushrooming inside of her unbelieving mind.

"No, of course not. Nothing so crude. I'll be behind there with some other
friends." he said, pointing triumphantly to the mirrored wall.

It was with a sudden shocking realization, that Ann remembered the two-way
mirror in Tijuana. He had them too!

"Oh no," she moaned, sinking limply to her knees beside him. "Please don't
make me do that, I just can't, knowing other people are watching. I just
can't." she sobbed hysterically.

"Ann my dear, you did a beautiful job in Tijuana, there were at least ten
people in the room when you performed so well."

"But I was drugged, that wasn't me, I didn't know what I was doing," she
defended, tears streaming down both cheeks.

"I've left you some help in the dressing room. I'm certain that you've seen
them."

"No," she protested, "I won't ever smoke one of those horrible things ever
again."

"That's up to you, my dear, I thought you just might appreciate the help, at
least until you get over these silly inhibitions that you've been brought up
with. I must go now, and I want you to be ready in one hour. I can control the
clock from the other room, and when I feel that you are earning it, I will
start it. If you let me down, then our little game is over for good, and you
can go home, without the pictures. Of course, they will go into the mail," he
added with an evil grin.

He left Ann crumpled on the floor in a sobbing heap, and went out the door.
Shortly afterwards, Sidney came in, he stood over her shaking form for a
moment, and then gently lifted her to her feet by one arm.

"Mr. Schroeder has asked me to prepare you," he said, with a little more
warmth in his voice than usual.

"Oh, Sidney, I can't do it," she moaned, as he led her into the small room
with the dressing table.

"I don't think that you have a choice, Madam," he answered, as he sat her at
the dressing table, and began brushing her long blonde hair out into its full
length beauty again. He worked with her for about half an hour, even applying
her make-up for her, until she was presentable again, with the marks of her
crying had disappeared.

"Mr. Jason, the man who is coming enjoys this perfume, madam," he said, as he
dabbed it lightly over the critical places on Ann's body. She noticed that his
touch was almost womanly, and her nakedness didn't seem to affect him as it
would have done to most men. He maintained a aloofness that could only lead
Ann to suspect that he had other tendencies, than a desire for women.

"What, what shall I do, Sidney?" she asked, her own mind empty from the
constant humiliations she had been subjected to.

"I would suggest that madam goes along with the desires of the gentleman, I
wouldn't risk displeasing Mr. Schroeder again, if I were you."

"But I just can't, knowing other people will be watching. Does Mr. Jason know
it too?"

"Certainly, Madam, Mr. Schroeder has brought him in to teach you a lesson. He
uses him often to punish those who have been uncooperative. Mr. Jason isn't a
kind man. I would suggest that one of these might help," he said, pointing at
the tray of hashish. "The gentlemen is, to be quite frank, a brutal pig, and
madam may need the consolation."

With this intelligence given, Sidney completed her toiletries, and left her
alone, reminding her that Jason would arrive within fifteen minutes.