From: auryman@aol.com (AuryMan)
Subject: Diane's Mistake (M+F+f, blackmail, smbd, etc etc)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories



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 1


Diane Lawson stretched her arms high over her head then stood up.

She'd been sitting in one position for a long time, knew that it was going to
play hell with her back later (it's grim being over 35!), knew that she'd
better walk around the room a few times to loosen things up.

She walked across the thick, blue-green carpet to the door, opened it a bit
and looked out into the hall. No lights, everyone was still asleep. Even the
dog just lay curled in the hallway - everything a perfect picture of middle-
class bliss.

The only anomalous thing at all was the blue light coming from the monitor on
the desk. The library was dark, done with polished wood walls (their one big
extravagence in an otherwise mundane house) and three of the four walls
floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. The fourth wall was covered with a variety of
pictures, plaque, awards and paintings. And in the middle of the room was the
desk. A big oak affair, custom made to house the computer monitor, speakers,
scanners, printers, all of the new necesssary appliances of a suburban home.

The monitor faced the wall. When laying out the room, her husband and she both
agreed that they didn't want anyone reading over their shoulder -- she expected
they had hugely different reasons. He was a very private person, a known
conservative church-going man in the community, who often wrote opinion pieces
for local and national magazines. He was militant about letting no one read
drafts - only finished copy was to EVER leave the confines of his imagination
or the TEMP directory on his computer.

She had other reasons for wanting privacy. At least for the last several
months.

Both of them had been slow to warm to the Internet concept. He, for reasons
that smacked of an almost Amish avoidance of technology; she because of all the
hype about child pornography and credit card fraud.

Once the machine was in the house, though, they found they often fought for
their online time. He found hundreds of sources he just had to read and keep
track of - local conservative fact sheets that gave out the names and
addresses of suspected drug dealers, Satanists, interracial liberal groups, in
short, all those doing the work of the Devil.

She found women's groups online that talked about raising children, handling
multiple careers (she occasionally worked outside the home), and slowly started
reading posts from many who were trying to come out from under the grip of a
domineering husband. 

It wasn't much longer than her second week online that she started getting the
infamous IM messages during her AOL sessions. She initially found them
disgusting and yet another sign of the Downfall of Western Culture.

Not long after that, she became intrigued by a seminary student in California
who talked to her about poetry, art, God, and ultimately, sex. She fell into
an online affair. She found herself up until one and two in the morning having
cybersex with this 22 year old student halfway across the country. 

It was amazing, she'd read about it but discounted it as the domain of pimply,
adolescent losers. Or perverts. Or child molesters. But at the very least,
the domain of MEN.

+ + +

In reality, she found herself completely engulfed in the freedom and intensity
of a relationship with no strings, no faces, no histories, even no bodies.
She'd masturbate herself to orgasm two and three times during a session. She
was sure she'd found a soulmate and even carried on several weeks of
self-reflection and discussion about the possibilities of leaving her family
and moving to the West Coast to pursue a "new life."

It was during this last May that the student came clean. "He" was a "she" - a
lesbian who was doing her best to use the Internet to liberate straight women
of their rape-culture husbands. There would be no point in them meeting as
Diane had made it clear in many discussions that she was not interested in a
woman as a lover. The student was just sending email to say she was graduating
and had to move on. It was a Dear John letter from Jane.

Since then, she'd engaged in several other online relationships and found them
all wanting. None had the depth of her first encounter, the commonality, the
sense of deep friendship. On the other hand, she was able to recreate the
excitement, the intensity and the gut-wrenching power of the sexual side of
that relationship almost immediately. 

She learned a lot about herself in doing that. She found that she loved the
newness of each new conquest. (She considered herself the conqueror regardless
of how many men initiated conversations with the familiar IM box.) Her Buddy
List grew to dozens of names, many of whom she'd allow to invite others into
their sessions. She would spin with the most far-flung fantasies of the most
creative of the men - fucking in public, taking on groups of men, selling
herself at another man's command, even weaving word fantasies about near-misses
with women, high school football teams and a variety of mechanical devices.

About three months ago, she'd decided to take on the project of writing and
posting erotic stories online. She found it thrilling to recount her "chat"
encounters as though they were real, retelling the stories and adding details
that the participants had left out or had not been able to write clearly.

She'd posted nearly two dozen stories when she hit on the idea of collaborating
with one or two of the better writers whose work she'd read. And that was what
she was writing tonight - her part of the next chapter in their ongoing
serialized novel. 

+ + +

"You've got mail!" the machine announced in that familiar voice. She peered
down the hall one last time, then closed the door and walked back to the desk.

The name in the mailbox - SumwonElz - was not familiar. The subject line was
simply "Hello Dolly!" Probably another ad for free time on a porn site. She
deleted it. 

A few seconds later, "you've got mail" called her attention again to the
mailbox. It was from the same person. This time the subject line had changed
to "I Know What You Did Last Summer". She chuckled - persistent anyway - then
deleted it again.

The third time, the subject line was "Dangerous Liasons". She had to give it
to him for ingenuity: the lines are catchy and they must be using an
autoresponder of some sort. But, what about the timing? The new messages
appeared pretty quickly after she deleted the prior ones.

This time, she left it in the mailbox for several minutes before deleting it.
Sure enough, another one came on its heels. Subject line: "Don't You Want Me
Baby?" - a song title this time.

She didn't open it or delete it. If it was a game of some kind, she was already
hooked. She let it languish in her IN box.

Her mind went back to its work. She was writing the next chapter, an encounter
in an adult movie house with the blackmailer. She had to try and put herself
into the scene, get the right feel for it, before trying to write it.

An IM broke her concentration.

- SumwonElz:  Diane, why aren't you reading my mail?

She grinned, thought a second, then typed her answer.

- SubDiane:   Because I don't know you.

She clicked the dialog box closed and Alt-Tabbed back to her story.

"Ding!"

Back in AOL, another IM:

- SumwonElz:  I know you don't know me. But I know you.

- SubDiane:   I don't think so. Did we meet in a chat under another name?

- SumwonElz:  Oh no, nothing that simple. 
- SumwonElz:  I was just driving down L--- street a little while ago.
- SumwonElz:  I spotted your minivan in the driveway.
- SumwonElz:  Thought I'd see if you were online.

How in the hell would he know she lived on L--- street? After a short pause,
she realized it was a guess. There must be an L--- street in a dozen towns in
the country. He was guessing. It was a little unnerving, but hey, sometimes
they hit. She decided to play along and see what he was up to.

- SubDiane:   Nice of you to notice. Would I have seen you?
- SumwonElz:  Oh, I don't think so. You would have had to be outside. And
you weren't.
- SubDiane:   Sorry I missed you. Maybe next time.
- SumwonElz:  Certainly next time. Because I'm going to tell you when and
where to be.

She caught his drift. It was going to be another online encounter. Everyone
was asleep and she was feeling a little horny, maybe it would be fun. She
decided to see what he had to offer.

- SubDiane:   That sounds like fun...
- SubDiane:   Are you good at this?
- SumwonElz:  Oh, Mrs. Lawson, don't be cute. I'm not looking for cyber.

Diane felt a jolt of panic. She looked around the room to make sure she was
alone. The window was closed, the shade drawn. The door was still closed.
The entire room was cloaked in shadow with the blue glow from the terminal the
only light. It reflected off glass lampshades, silver knick-knacks on the
shelves, and the curtainrod. 

Still, she had the feeling someone was watching her. 

- SumwonElz:  Mrs. Lawson? Are you still there?
- SubDiane:   Yes, I'm here. Who do you think I am? This "Mrs. Lawson"?
- SumwonElz:  Mrs. Diane Lawson
- SumwonElz:  of 3991 L--- Street, Franklin Park, Illinois?
- SumwonElz:  38 years old, white (Caucasian) mid-west housewife
- SumwonElz:  two teenage children, one boy, one girl 
- SumwonElz:  (you lied in your online profile, very nice move)
- SumwonElz:  married for just under 12 years
- SumwonElz:  statistics you posted seem slightly incorrect from what 
- SumwonElz:  I could see in the last week or two. 5'6" sounds right,
- SumwonElz:  but weigh around 140 lbs 
- SumwonElz:  we'll talk about that later, I work out at a very nice gym in
town
- SumwonElz:  brown eyes shoulder length, brown hair
- SumwonElz:  Measurements are a bit obscure, I haven't seen you up that
close yet
- SumwonElz:  but soon...
- SumwonElz:  Now, are there any questions about whether or not I know you?
- SubDiane:   Who the hell are you?
- SumwonElz:  I advise you to answer your email.

He knew her! How? Had she been careless in one of her chats? Left enough
clues for someone to track her down? Was it someone who saw her name on the
computer somehow? But who? Who looked at the computer in their house?

- SubDiane:   How do you know me?
- SumwonElz:  I guess that's for me to know and for you to find out.

She paused, trying to figure out her next move. Maybe she could learn
something about him from AOL. Report him to TOS. 

She clicked on the "People" icon, then "Locate Member Online". The reply box
came back saying "Member is not currently online." Just to check, she clicked
"write mail" and sent a test message. She got back a dialog box that said
"SumwonElz - This is not a known member." He did not exist inside AOL.

- SubDiane:   Who are you? AOL says you do not exist.
- SumwonElz:  Given what I know about you, wouldn't you say they're wrong?
- SubDiane:   I don't understand
- SumwonElz:  you don't need to. Look at it this way, 
- SumwonElz:  either I'm an employee who is misusing my authority,
- SumwonElz:  or I'm a hacker who broke into their site and is messing with
them
- SumwonElz:  either way, you're kinda stuck, aren't you?
- SumwonElz:  Now, just read the mail.
- SubDiane:   what do you mean?
- "Member is no longer logged on"

Whoever it was, he was certainly a hacker. He'd cut the connection and she was
left with the email in her IN basket. She hesitated to read it, clicked off
the power saver screen and pushed the chair back. Just a few fingers of
scotch, she told herself, to steady myself.

She was curious, puzzled, confused. Who was this guy and what did he want?
Was he playing, maybe a friend who wanted to get in on the chats? Maybe
someone from an old chat? But that didn't make any sense. How could they know
personal details. And, how could they know which of the ones she'd posted were
lies?

No, this person knew her. It was someone playing games. But who? And why?

+ + +

She drank the scotch, put the bottle and glass back on the shelf, then went
back to the computer. Still standing, she clicked the monitor ON, then double
clicked in her IN box to open his mail.

She read his email:

> Diane:
>
> I've been watching you with fascination for the last several weeks now.
> You are versatile and imaginative in your cybersex encounters, in fact,
> one of the most eager I've met. I can see from your recent posts that
> you are considering entering the real world. You are like a moth, you 
> are flying close to the fire. You have been unaware of the danger. 
>
> The danger is here.
>
> I know your name. I know your address. I know the names of your 
> daughter and son. I know where they go to school.
>
> I know where your husband works. I know about his articles, I know
> about the causes he supports. I know about his petition work during
> the Communications Decency Act. I have, in fact, spoken with him
> about it and he has made a generous donation to my organization.
> Ask him about it. It's called Parents Against Smut and Sleaze. We 
> met, spoke for about 30 minutes, and he donated $100 dollars just two 
> weeks ago.
>
> Don't bother checking on the organization, it doesn't exist. In fact, if you
>like, you can tell him to void his check.
>
> James would be quite shocked to receive in the mail transcripts of several of
> your better 'chat' sessions. He would also be upset to review the
> facts of your attempted affair with the college student from California.
> I believe you said -- and I quote: "I could come up with the money for
> a plane ticket if you promised that all of your energy would be focused
> on me for the entire two days..." -- unquote.
>
> I plan to be the one who helps you make that next step, from the 
> lust-crazed world inside your head to fucking and sucking in the
> real world.
>
> I will contact you again soon.
>
> Have a nice night.
>
> SumwonElz

She stared at the screen, completely numb and frozen, for several minutes
before turning it off and heading for bed.


				Chapter 2


The next morning, after she'd seen her husband and daughter off with a good
breakfast, Diane went back into the library to check her email. She was hoping
that maybe the mysterious stranger whose email she read last night was just a
bad dream. But, there it was in the "OLD MAIL" tab. The entire thing. 
Descriptions of her and her family that were definitely not guesses. The
details were all correct, none were wrong or even merely "close". 

"Ding!"

- SumwonElz:  Good morning. 
- SumwonElz:  Did you sleep well?
- SubDiane:   What do you think?
- SumwonElz:  Spunky as ever. I like that.
- SumwonElz:  Are you ready to see what it's like being a sex slave in the
real world?

Her stomach knotted. They'd not taken her too far in the stories yet, the
chapters that were published online didn't seem like anything too extreme.
What did this guy have in mind anyway? She felt something and wondered if it
was fear or excitement.

- SumwonElz:  I asked you a question.
- SubDiane:   I'm sorry. What did you have in mind?
- SumwonElz:  Check your mail.
- SubDiane:   I already did.
- "Member is no longer logged on"

"Jerk! I hate it when they do that!" she yelled to no one in particular.

She clicked onto the "Read Mail" icon and saw that there was a new piece of
mail in her IN box. The flag hadn't gone up on the mailbox icon and she didn't
hear the familiar voice. Whoever he was, he was messing with AOL protocol. She
wondered why.

> Diane
>
> I'd like to get a better look at you.
>
> You will drive into Chicago and head for 
> the Crown Books at 1444 S. Clark St. Be there at 10 a.m.
> Dress in a black skirt and a white blouse. Shoes, nylons, 
> jewelry of your choosing. No bra or panties.
>
> You will browse the art and photography books from 10:00 
> until 10:15. If anyone approaches you, tell them you
> are just looking. Do not engage in conversation with anyone,
> not even a store clerk.
>
> Feel free to take any books from the shelf and look through
> them. Try to look natural and casual, I want to see what you
> look like in your natural state. 
>
> Don't try to find me, I won't let you.
>
> At 10:15, you will be given an envelope. Leave the bookstore
> and go into the coffee shop two doors down the street.
>
> Read the contents of the envelope and follow the instructions
> you find there.
>
> If you have any thought of hesitation, banish it. You know and I know
> that you are curious. We also know that you don't want those printouts 
> in your husband's hands.
>

No bra and panties? He was pushing her rather quickly, she thought. That was a
familiar piece of role playing fantasy, she often talked about dressing with no
underwear. She wondered if that was part of his game, using her own chats
against her.

Diane was already picturing herself in the outfit. She had a skirt and a top
that would fit the bill, and shoes she liked. She'd wear panty hose just in
case he got too ambitious and tried grabbing her ass or raping her. She'd meet
him, talk with him, and see what he really wanted. 

There's no way he'd send those prints to her house, she told herself. Probably
some college student playing games. He'd get off on her following his commands
and that would be that.

She looked at the clock on the desk. It was 8:30. She opened her browser and
keyed the address of the bookstore into the mapping program. It was downtown,
it would take at least 20 minutes to drive, another 20 to find parking. She
went upstairs to shower and change.

+ + +

Traffic hadn't been too bad, but finding parking was impossible. It was 9:50
when she walked into the store. There were about a dozen people inside, all
neatly dressed - probably the downtown crowd either on their way to work or
taking an early break. Most of the men were in suits, the women also dressed
very professionally. There was so much gray she felt she'd landed in a black
and white movie set.

No one looked at her as she walked around the store, looking for the right
section. She was aware of her breasts swinging free underneath the blouse, but
no one else seemed to be. A slight feeling of apprehension came over her as
she stepped beneath the sign that read "Art and Photography".

There was a man standing there, looking at a book of album cover art. 

"Weren't these great?" he asked her as she came closer.

"Uh huh," she mumbled, hoping to avoid an encounter. If it was him, he'd have
to let her know for certain . If it wasn't, well, she didn't feel like talking
to anyone anyway.

The man put the book back into its place and walked away.

She let her eyes glide over the books on the shelves. Cezanne, Dali, Ansel
Adams, black and white fashion collections, portraits and landscapes. She
loved art, had studied Art History in college but ended up majoring in
accounting when it was all said and done.

There was a book of nudes in front of her at eye level. She couldn't help but
stare at the defiant look of the young woman whose face and naked breasts made
up the cover. The photographer had captured a look that straddled the line
between "I'm a slut" and "Don't even think about it".

Diane picked the book up and flipped idly through the pages. The pictures were
wonderful, none of the women looked forced or posed. At one point, she felt
herself being pulled into a landscape of flesh - two full page full color
pictures of naked torsos, arms and legs pulled behind and out of the camera's
eye. She became aware of her body, felt her nipples growing and brushing
against the fabric of her blouse. She closed the book and put it back on the
shelf.

Something further down the same shelf caught her eye. It was a hardcover book
with a black cover and gold, handwritten letters. It said "Diane's Chats".

She looked around, no one was watching her. Her hand trembled as she reached
for it. There was no publisher's imprint on the spine or the back cover. The
front cover was blank. It looked more like a sketchbook than a published book.

With nervous fingers, she opened it. There, on the first page, was a photo of
her getting out of her car. The photo had been taken in her driveway at home.
She was wearing a skirt and her legs were visible to just above the knees. She
looked up and checked her aisles and the ones nearbly. No one was watching
her. She turned the page. 

It was, indeed, an artist's sketch book but there were no more pictures. 
Instead, page after page of chat log had been printed and glued to the pages of
the blank book. There were chats dating back nearly to when it all started.
Whoever'd put it together had been watching her for a long time. Or had access
to logs that she didn't know existed. Which could it be?

She thumbed through the book and found a loose piece of paper that had been
stuck in between two pages. It was a note:

"Put the book under your arm and take it with you as a souvenir. The clerk
will not give you any trouble. Two possible reasons for you to consider. One,
he might recognize it as a sketchbook and assume you walked in with it. Or,
maybe I've told him what's up and he's having fun just watching you. Have fun
guessing which."

She looked around the store again. What if someone had come across the book
accidently. Recognized her photo? Recognized something in one of the chats?

It was 10:12. Another three minutes and she could leave. She clenched the
book tight under her arm, tried to appear calm and browse through the other
books in that section. 

What made him so sure she'd see it? Was he the man looking at the album cover
book? How long had the book been there? What if someone else HAD looked at
it? She felt her stomach tighten as it started to sink in: this guy was playing
rough.

Another customer walked into her aisle. It was an older man, another gray
suit. He picked up a book of black and white Western landscapes. Stepping
closer to her, he opened the book and showed her a picture.

"Do you have any idea whether this is part of the Grand Canyon?"

She looked at him nervously. It was 10:15. She'd been instructed not to carry
on any conversations. Yet, maybe this was the one who was going to deliver the
letter. She decided to chance talking with him.

"It looks more like the Rockies. But, I don't know much about those things."

He nodded his head, closed the book and put it back on the shelf. Then, he
walked away and started nosing around in the Fiction section.

Diane looked at her watch: 10:16. No one had given her anything. Maybe it was
all a prank, or maybe the jerk had got cold feet when he realized he could go
to jail for what he was about to do.

As she moved her left foot to start walking to the door, she felt something
brush against her ankle. There was an envelope someone had propped up against
her shoe while she was talking to the other customer. Uncertain what to
expect, she bent down and picked it up.

The envelope was blank, nothing at all on either side. She stuffed it between
the pages of the sketch book and walked out the door of the store.

+ + + 

As he'd said, there was a coffee shop two doors down. She went in, took a
quick inventory of the patrons but had no clue that one of them might be him.

A waitress pointed to a booth halfway back and against the wall. Diane nodded
and took her seat. 

"Coffee?"

"Sure, that's fine," she said.

When the waitress had put the cup and saucer down in front of her, she opened
the sketchbook. The envelope was there, waiting ominously for her. She took it
in her hand and tapped it a few times. It was as if she were relishing her
last few minutes of freedom. She had realized this: if this person was a
blackmailer and if indeed he had interest in her sex chats, it was pretty clear
what he would want. The only questions left were: when and for how long?



				Chapter 3



She sipped the coffee. He hadn't said anything about reading the letter right
away and she wanted to give herself a few minutes to get her composure. A small
part of her was still hoping she'd figure out who it might be, or that he'd
change his mind at the last minute. She felt that once the envelope was
opened, they would have crossed a line together that they couldn't come back
from.

With the butterknife from the table, she slit the top of the envelope open.
Inside was a folded note:

"It's still early in the day and you don't have anyone to go home to until at
least 3:30. Isn't that when your daughter comes home? Oh yes, I almost
forgot. Today is Tuesday, so that means you're free until 4 o'clock. 

"I've taken a room at the Palmer for the day. One thing I'd really enjoy is to
see how you behave when you're made to play the whore. Your assignment for
this morning is to go to the Palmer House, take the elevator to the 8th floor,
and knock on the door of room 812.

"You are to take the name 'Sandra' and service the man inside that room. You
are not to make any allusion to our arrangement, you are not to confront that
man with the details of our arrangement, under penalty of an immediate delivery
of the materials you've seen today to your husband and children.

"Your job is to convince him totally that you are indeed one of Chicago's
finest, that your name is Sandra, and that you will do anything he asks for
$200.00.

"When you are finished, go down to the lobby and ask the concierge for a
package with your name on it."

The note ended there. 

She turned it over, looked for another page but there was nothing else. She
was frightened and full of questions. Why the false name? What name to give
the concierge - Sandra or Diane? Why the Palmer House? What did he mean that
he might do "anything" to her? Was she to complete the charade and force him
to hand her the money? Would this be a one-time thing or would he expect her
to be available again in the future?

It was 10:35, she needed to go if she was going to be on time. 

Diane paid the waitress with a $5.00 and a smile, then walked to the door.

"Miss! Sandra! Wait! You forgot your letter!" She heard the waitress calling
her, but ran out of the shop and toward the parking garage.

+ + + 

At 10:59, Diane Lawson - now known as Sandra - was standing in the rich red
carpet outside the door of room 812. She adjusted her skirt slightly, tucked
the small purse under her arm, then knocked.

"Yes?"

"Hello. It's me, Sandra," she said to the closed door.

Inside the room, there was some shuffling, then the slide of the deadbolt. The
door opened. The man at the door was middle aged, not handsome but not
unhandsome. He had on grey pants and wore a white shirt with tiny red stripes
over a protruding belly.

"I'm Andy. Come in."

She looked at him closely, trying to determine whether or not he was going to
play the game all the way. As she walked past, he leaned forward and took a
breath.

"Nice hair." He closed and locked the door and began the play immediately.

"So, I understand you're one of the best Chicago has to offer?"

She gave him what she hoped was a knowing glance. "I've been told I'm pretty
good."

"You do deep throat?"

In the chats, this was always a favorite, she should have expected it.

"If you like."

"And it's two hundred dollars, right? For the whole thing?"

"That's right." She was getting tired of this playing and wished he'd just come
out and talk about the blackmail.

"OK, then, get on your knees over here and let's get on with it." He unbuckled
his belt, unsnapped his pants and pulled them down around his knees. His white
thighs were flabby and his legs sparsely covered with long, stringy hairs. He
pulled down a pair of white boxers and she saw his thin, flaccid prick peeking
out from under his shirt tails.

Diane felt revulsion coming up from her stomach, this was not going to be a
pleasant experience. He was not attractive at all and that, combined with the
circumstance of the blackmail and the game, made her feel ill. But, she knew
the stakes and knelt down in front of him. She took his organ between her
fingers and started kissing the head.

"I have to sit down," he said and walked across the room to an armchair.

She followed, kneeling between his open legs and reaching for his cock again.
She licked small circles around the head and felt it begin to stiffen. A few
long strokes along the neck and down to the base and it was fully erect.

"Sandra?"

"Yes," she answered.

"When it gets nice and hard, I want you to deep throat me until I cum. Then,
swallow it all."

Take that thing into her mouth all the way, until her nose was buried in his
balls? She knew she had to do it but didn't know if she could. She heard him
grunting and felt his hand in her hair. He grabbed a handful and started
pulling.

"Ouch!"

"Shut the fuck up and do it!"

She pushed her mouth as far down on his cock as it would go. She felt the
small head against the back of her throat. Then, she slid her tongue up and
down along the shaft as well as she could. 

"Let's hear you hum a little," he grunted.

She recognized this one from chats too. She pushed the head as far back into
her mouth as it would go, then started humming lightly. He grunted and pulled
her hair harder. She felt his sweaty balls and her eyes watered slightly.

It took only a few minutes for him to get off. As he did, he pushed her head
down hard. She didn't want to swallow it, but there was too much and she
started to gag. He wouldn't release the pressure and she was forced to swallow
it - all but the last bit she could keep in her mouth.

When he stopped bucking up and down, she let the cock slide out of her mouth.
She stood up, her lips tightly clenched.

"You didn't swallow it all?"

Diane shook her head.

"Well, you can swallow it now. Do not leave this room until your mouth is
empty."

Swallow it? Fuck you! she thought. But even as she thought it, she knew she
had no choice. She braced herself and swallowed the rest of the warm, thick
liquid.

"Good. That's better. Well, your money's on the table. Nice work."

Diane wiped her lips with the back of her hand and stepped toward the door.

"Take the money, cunt."

She looked at him, then at the dresser, then though - what the hell? If he
wants to pay me real cash as part of his fantasy, let him. She picked up the
bills, stuffed them into her purse, and walked to the door.

"See you next time," he said. She didn't turn around, but opened the door and
stepped out into the hall. After pulling the door closed behind her, she
waited there a few minutes. Wasn't he going to come out, tell her she did a
good job, give her a next assignment? Maybe explain the limits and
expectations of this relationship?

There was no sound from the inside and she heard the elevator bell ding. 

He'd said to go to the concierge. She figured she'd better.

There were two other riders in the elevator, neither was the man from the room.
 She avoided looking at either of them, just rode in silence.

+ + + 

"I'm expecting a package for Sandra," Diane said to the man behind the desk.

The concierge wore a very elaborate uniform - a coat of thick velvet with long
tails, dress striped slacks, perfectly starched shirt, vest, and a red cap.
Rather than reaching for an envelope or package, he stood looking at her and
not speaking. He never established eye contact, but looked her up and down
from her ankles to her neck.

"There is nothing here for a Sandra," he told her with an air of authority.

Shit! Guessed wrong, she thought.

"I'm sorry, what about for Diane Lawson?"

"I don't understand. For whom are you picking up a package?"

"For myself," she stammered.

"Well, are you uncertain what your name is? Is it Sandra or is it Diane?" He
gave her a condescending look, as though he knew what was in the package and
was going to make her sweat for it.

Luckily, on the way from the coffee shop, she'd thought through this
possibliity and had what she thought was a good answer.

"I'm in town with a friend and I'm not sure which name they were going to leave
the package under." She tried to give him an innocent smile, despite the fact
that he was starting at her nipples.

"Oh, I see. And what room are you staying in?"

She hadn't anticipated that. Desparate for an idea, she blurted out "well, I'm
with a friend in room 812."

"Room 812? That would be Mr. Harris. A very nice man who asked me for a dinner
recommendation last night. In from out of town for business. He checked in
yesterday and mentioned to me that he might be having a 'visitor' this
morning."

The emphasis he'd put on the word 'visitor' scared her. What had he told her?
And why did his charade extend to the concierge?

"Well, I don' t know anything about that, I only know that I'm supposed to pick
up a package."

"Yes, well I do have a package for you." He reached under the desk and took out
a small box, wrapped with a red ribbon.

"I just want to mention one thing. From here forward, I suggest you do your
business elsewhere. We have a very good reputation with the local police and
we do NOT want to risk it. Is that understood?" 

Diane felt tears welling in her eyes. The concierce had nearly called her a
whore. She and her husband had stayed at that hotel before. Did the man
recognize her? What if they wanted to go back there again?

She wanted to yell at him - to tell him that the man up there was not an out of
town businessman but a blackmailer who stopped just short of raping her. She
looked at his stern face and hard eyes. He would not listen.

She took the package and ran out of the building.



				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.



				Chapter 5




Driving along the freeway on her way into the city, Diane considered her
options. The obvious choice was to tell him that she'd brought in the police.
Tell her husband that he'd made up the entire thing, that those were not her
chat logs. Someone could forge them, there was no real proof to tie her to the
name "SubDiane". Except that the name was registered as an alias on AOL and
he'd certainly seen it by now.

But there no way to prove that she'd actually participated in those chats. The
blackmailers could certainly have gathered the logs from anywhere and changed
the names. Would that work?

As she turned off the exit ramp and started into city traffic, she realized
that it wouldn't work. She'd met the man face to face. He might have taken
photographs. Hell, he could have videotaped their entire session.

There was a line outside the parking garage and it took her nearly ten minutes
between pulling into the line and turning off the car in a parking space. She
checked her make up -- as if it mattered to the blackmailer -- and picked up
her tiny purse. Everything had been emptied out except her driver's license,
twenty dollars in cash, lipstick, the toothbrush and toothpaste, and the KY
jelly. No use carrying the entire wallet or much of anything else. And, it
might turn out to be dangerous. What if he stole her purse?

At the door of the hotel, she stopped cold. The concierge! How to get past
him? 

Inside the hotel lobby, there were few guests. It looked like a light morning.
 If she walked in, he'd be certain to see her as she made the long walk from
the door to the elevators.

She pushed the door open and looked inside. He was not at his post! 

It was too dangerous to wait for an elevator. Swiftly, she crossed the space
between the front door and the stairwell. Pushing the door open, slid through,
then pulled it shut behind her. Softly, she walked up the two flights of
stairs that brought her to the third floor. Then, she exited and walked to the
elevator - pushed the UP button.

She was in. Now, she just had to avoid him on the way out.

+ + +

"Mr. Harris?" she whispered as she knocked on the door.

Inside the room, a laugh and then footsteps. The peephole darkened and the
lock slid open.

"Back again, hm? Well, I'm glad you were available. You folks certainly cater
to requests, don't you?"

"Look, why don't you cut the crap? I want to get this over with - what will it
take for you to leave me alone?"

He stared at her, took a deep breath, and scratched his belly. "I'm not sure
what you mean. I mean, I called you, you came. I even asked for you by name.
Don't you like me?"

She shook her head. "Cut out the 'I called your agency' shit. You have the
chats, I want you to keep them quiet, can't we just be up front about it?"

A blank look spread across his face. He turned and walked across the room to
the small refrigerator. With only a slight look of concern, he swung the door
open and took out a can of beer. The top gave a loud "pfft!" noise as he
pulled the tab.

While he raised the can and took a long drink, Diane watched him. He was
toying with her, trying to get back into the roles. Fuck him, maybe she would
unnerve him by not backing down.

"I want to know what you want," she said again.

Harris wiped his lips on the back of his hand, put the beer can down on the
dresser, and started unbuttoning his shirt. "Honey, I don't know what it is
you're talking about, but I know what I want and I think you do too. Yesterday
was nice - I love your mouth - but this time I want some pussy. So, what say
we drop the game playing and you get out of those clothes and onto the bed,
hmmm?"

Resist or capitulate? she wondered. Force his hand or take the easy way out?
Her resolve started to grow - she realized that she had to nip this in the bud.

"Jim doesn't care about the printouts - I told him about them. You can forget
it, the arrangement's off," she yelled, then turned and started walking toward
the door.
"Hold it, Sandra!" he commanded. She turned around and stared at him. He was
holding the telephone receiver. "They warned me that you might try something
and said that, if you did, I was to call the desk and ask for them to send
someone from security to escort you down. And that you would really not want
me to do that. Is that correct?"

His eyes gave away nothing. He might do it. This was even worse than sending
the printouts - she'd be brought home by a policeman, dressed like this, with
the blackmailer's story on top of the evidence of the printouts. She felt
herself lose her will.

"That..that's correct," she muttered, dropping her purse to the floor.

"That's what I thought." He set the phone back on its cradle. "Now, why don't
we come over here and be nice to each other?"

Slowly, she walked back to the bed and sat on the edge. Bending down, she slid
the shoe off her left foot, then her right. She pulled the blouse out of the
skirt, then unsnapped and unzipped the skirt and stood up, letting it fall to
the floor. 

"OK, so fuck me."

Harris stepped out of his pants and stood wearing the same boxers as yesterday.
 

He walked to the bed, leaned over her, and kissed her on the mouth. "I know
you whores don't usually allow this, but for $200, they said I'd get all kinds
of special treatment..." When he slid his tongue between her lips, she
resisted. His hands reached underneath her and grabbed her ass cheeks.

"Come on, honey, play nice," he urged. She opened her mouth and let him slide
his tongue in. She didn't move her lips or body.

"Hey! Listen, that's enough bullshit! Let's see some action for my money,
huh?" 

The tone in his voice scared her and she started rubbing her hands up and down
his back. When he kissed, she kissed back. Hesitantly at first, but then she
closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy what she could. He was gentle for
the most part, his hands enjoying the feel of her hips and legs, his kiss,
sloppy but considerate.

She took his limp cock in her hand, stroked it lightly. With her other hand,
she slid the boxers off over his ass and down to his knees. She slid further
toward the middle of the bed and spread her legs, letting him lay between her
open thighs. His lips moved down to her neck and he kissed, licked, and
nibbled. She felt herself start to get wet. Imagined that he was one of the
lovers she'd sought out in the chats, this time in the flesh. She tried to
remember a favorite cyber session, trying to let that memory run in her mind
and get her excited.

His organ stiffened and he started immediately for her cunt. She opened
herself and let him slide in - maybe this would be over quickly. He moaned as
his cockhead slid between the outer lips, then nearly collapsed when she raised
her hips to meet him, taking the entire cock in one quick thrust.

"There we are, honey, give it to me," she whispered in what she hoped was sexy
tone. Anything to get him moving along quicker. "Come on, I love to feel that
big cock splitting me open..."

Her tongue ran up and down his neck, her left hand reached between their
bellies and tried to find his balls. 

"You're nice and wet," he whispered.

"For you, anything," she answered back, lying.

He started humping seriously now, up and down, the bed shaking under his
weight. She felt her legs being pushed flat, sweat from him underarms and
belly starting to trickle down onto her body there under him. She had to
remove her hand because he was so heavy.

"Good little pussy, good little cunt," he was whispering over and over as he
fucked her. "Good little..ooooh...."

She felt the warm liquid ooze into her cunt, felt his cock go limp and his body
collapse on top of her. She tried to raise her knees a bit to get some relief
from his weight, but could only get them a few inches off the mattress. His
hair filled her eyes, nose, mouth, she smelled his sweaty scalp and neck. His
hands were still under her ass but they went limp. He'd fallen asleep.

"Hey! This isn't part of the deal," she yelled, pushing him off of her. He
rolled over on his side, then laughed.

"OK, OK. Listen, get down there and lick me clean. Then, you can leave. Your
money's on the table, same as before. I'm in town two more days, maybe I'll
call you again," he said. "For now, I need a nap. Damn, you're nice." He
pulled down the covers, slid under them, and pulled them halfway up his legs.
"Come on, clean me up."

She bent down over him, took the limp member in her fingers. Her tongue slid
lightly over the shaft, at the base, to the head, licking his cum and her cunt
juices. After just a few minutes, she heard his breath go very slow and even.

"Fuck you, asshole," she spat. He was asleep. He'd actually fallen asleep
with her in the room, licking his dick clean.

Stepping in the skirt and blouse, she watched him. She considered searching
the room - for a wallet, for a laptop computer, for luggage, something more
that she could use to get him to cut this out. A quick look around the room
found nothing she could use and she was afraid that opening the drawers would
wake him. Maybe next time.



                                 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.


				
				
				Chapter 7



Diane stood there in the hall, wobbly kneed, for several minutes after the door
closed behind her. She was in hell. Pure hell. The blackmailer might be
either or none of the people she'd been with today, or all three of them - he'd
said "we" last time. Her stomach was in a knot and she knew she was going to
throw up. 

Her eyes darted up and down the hall, hoping without hope for a public
bathroom. Hotels did not have bathrooms on the upper floors, maybe she could
make it to the first floor... but then there was the concierge. 

The Palmer House was a popular place for conventions and meetings. There were
meeting rooms on the 2nd and 3rd floors, there would probably be a public
bathroom there. She made it to the stairwell, supporting herself with one hand
along the wall, and pushed open the door. 

On the 3rd floor, she saw the women's room right across from the stairway door.
 Inside, she immediately headed for a stall, locked the door behind her, and
sat on the toilet. She put her head down between her knees and started
sobbing.

Everything was going to be shit from now on. He'd probably fuck her again
tomorrow and the next day and the next day...

The familiar feeling of nausea came on her quickly. She stood up, spun around
and dropped to her knees. Just in time, she leaned her head over the opening
and retched several times, bringing up breakfast, dinner from the night before,
and anything else that was down there mixing with the Coke and cum from Hardy
this morning and Carl this afternoon.

+ + +

After nearly twenty minutes, she felt composed enough to face the mirror. She
opened the door to the stall and walked to the sinks. There was plenty of cold
water and she let it run for several minutes before soaking one of the hand
towels in it. She opened the towel and pressed it to her face, covering
everything and letting the coolness soak away the tears.

She re-wet the towel again with hot water and pressed it hard against her eyes
and cheeks. Then, again. It felt wonderful. The towel was an escape, it
reconnected her with the world at home, where none of this was happening -
where none of it was even conceivable.

The toothbrush and toothpaste were still in her purse. She took them out and
scrubbed her mouth again several times. She felt like it made some kind of
difference.

Adjusting her blouse and skirt, running her fingers through her hair several
times, she was finally prepared to go out into the hotel. She'd mapped out an
escape route, if she came down the stairwell instead of the elevator, she'd be
close enough to the exit that she could probably make it without the concierge
spotting her.

The tall man with the red hat was leaning down examining a map with a customer
when she opened the stairwell door, he stayed focused on the map until after
she left. She felt relieved that she'd made it by him once more, then felt
angry that she'd had to.

+ + +

That night, there was no email from SumwonElz. 

She wondered if that was it, if he'd finished with her. Her excitement grew
every minute she stayed online and he didn't appear. She cruised several rooms
at random, reading about the news events of the day, people asking to buy
magazines and cars, and retelling sports stories.

Some IMs came in from people who read her ID or profile as an open invitation.
Often, it was, but not tonight. Tonight, she was enjoying a kind of anonymity.

The second night, still no contact. She felt no desire to enter any of the
chat rooms she used to haunt, not even any curiousity to answer any of the IMs
she received. Even from one who was an "old friend under another name".

Two more nights -- the weekend -- passed by with no contact. She began to feel
that whoever it was had lost interest. Perhaps this was such a lucrative field
-- blackmailing women who have sex chats -- that he moved on from one to
another rapidly. Perhaps looking for a supermodel with a nighttime
addiction...

The following Monday, the family went out to a movie. It was another
action-adventure flick, big budget and little plot. They were home by ten
o'clock. She knew that her husband might want her and she was more than ready
for some old-fashioned cuddling. Even thought the blackmail had happened only
last week, it was beginning to fade from her mind. She knew she would never
tell him and it seemed that he had no clue. Of course, he would have no
reason.

They both dressed in their pajamas. The overhead light was out and only the
lamps on the night tables gave the room a dim light.

"I have something for you," he announced softly.

"Really?" she asked.

"Really. I picked it up over the weekend, but you seemed a bit distracted so I
held on to it until today." 

>From the top drawer of his night table, he took a small package. It was wrapped
in gold paper with a red bow.

She kissed him and took it in her hand. Untying the bow, she ripped the paper
and opened the package. Inside was a small picture frame with a picture of
their two children inside.

"It's beautiful - you remembered?"

"I did. It's been months, I've been waiting for the right time. So, I bought
it Saturday, but, like I said, the right time didn't seem to be until now..."

"Oh, it's perfect," she said. She placed the frame on her night table, then
rolled over and pressed against him. She kissed him and whispered "thank you."
 

He whispered back "thank me." It was a kind of ritual they'd developed, a way
for either of them to say what they wanted without saying it.

She reached her hand underneath the covers, slid it down his belly and under
the elastic waist band of his pajama bottoms. His cock was already stiff, the
head slightly wet.

"You've been thinking about this a while, haven't you?" she asked with a grin.
He rose on his knees and let her position herself underneath him.

"You're irresistible," he answered. He supported himself on his arms and
waited for her to take off her clothes. He liked her naked underneath him,
though he rarely removed anything he was wearing. His cock poked out the
crotch of the pajamas, but, other than that, he was fully clothed.

Diane had the role down from years of practice. She slid quickly out of her
pajamas, knew that he might lose interest and that would be it for another week
or another month. And, did her best to recreate an erotic chat in her mind.
He wasn't going to kiss, fondle, touch, or tease her and wouldn't let her touch
herself while they fucked. She'd tried dozens of ways to bring herself to
orgasm when he fucked her, but it was rare. There was so little to work with.

This time, she heard a low moan come out of her throat and felt herself damp,
wetter than usual. Her nipples were stiff, she felt them rub against the
fabric of his clothes. To her shock, she found that she was running the
encounter with Carl through her mind. Waking up with his hand between her legs
was one of the hottest things she could find in her sexual memory. Then,
making her brace herself on her hands and knees, giving no thought at all to
what was going on for her, using her as an orifice and nothing more...

"What the hell's the matter with you?"

It was Jim. She opened her eyes and saw the intense look of disapproval on his
face. He'd stopped fucking her but her hips continued to grind against him.

"Stop that, what the hell's wrong with you?" he demanded. "You're doing it
like a goddamned whore."

Tears welled in her eyes. "I'm sorry dear, it's just that you were really
getting to me, turning me on." She reached up and caressed his face in her
hands. "Sometimes, it's just too much for me, the way you do it."

He stared at her. She was not certain what he was thinking, but she was
desparate for him to start fucking her again. Maybe she would get off this
time.

"Well, you're going to wake Sarah and then what? Maybe we'd just better stop
this." He started to withdraw.

"Oh, God Jim, please. I...I want to make you feel good," she begged, hoping he
would not lose interest or start talking. She raised her head and kissed him.
He responded, moving his cock slowly into her again. She tried to concentrate,
tried to let her body have its orgasm without quivering or shaking so much he
objected again.

"I really love the way you are, you know," she whispered in his ear.  She knew
that the longer she could work his ego, the more time she had to bring herself
off. "So strong, so firm, so sure of yourself..."

He humped her hard, he always got out of rhythm early on, but this time, she
kept up with him, raising her hips so he'd fuck deeper. Her orgasm was
building and she saw the white explosions starting beneath her eyelids. 

"You're my Man of Steel, my knight in shining armor..."

She strained to keep her body from going out of control, trying to have the
orgasm without the thrashing she desparately wanted. He unloaded his cum into
her, then stopped and pulled himself out abruptly.

"That was wonderful, dear," he said. She felt his hands under the covers,
tucking his penis into the pajama bottoms and buttoning them back up. "Thank
you. Sweet dreams."

As he rolled over to sleep, she rolled on her side and pressed the pillow
against her mouth, screaming silently, tears streaming down her face.

+ + +

- SumwonElz:  How was it?
- SubDiane:   How was what?
- SumwonElz:  Have you heard about those listening devices the military has?
- SumwonElz:  The ones you sometimes see in spy magazines or TV detective
shows?
- SumwonElz:  You can listen into a whispered conversation through a window
at 300 yards.
- SumwonElz:  "I bought it Saturday, I've been waiting for the right time..."
- SubDiane:   You bastard.

He couldn't have.  Yet, there was no way he could have guessed what Jim had
said. The monster was stalking her. This was worse than she could have
imagined.

- SumwonElz:  Whatever. Anyway, back to the question: How was it?

How to escape this? What could she do to find him?

- SumwonElz:  Are you going to answer, or should I?

If he was still outside, she might spot his car. Would he still be sitting
there, the listening device out the window like a cheap TV show?

- SumwonElz:  I guess you are not going to answer. Perhaps a bit embarassed.
 He didn't last very long.

She ran from the library to their bedroom. It faced the front of the house.
She parted the curtains but there were no cars on the street in either
direction. If he'd been there, he was gone. Angry, she walked down the hall,
back to the library, back to the computer.

- SumwonElz:  Let me guess, are you looking for me outside?
- SumwonElz:  You know I won't be there.
- SumwonElz:  How would I be that stupid, to let you see me?
- SumwonElz:  The game would lose all its fun.
- SumwonElz:  Besides, do you want to know something?
- SumwonElz:  Are you there?

Feeling hopeless and defeated, she decided to answer.

- SubDiane:   Yes, I'm here.
- SumwonElz:  It wasn't me listening in. It was someone I hired.

Her heart sank.

- SubDiane:   That's dangerous. Now, he knows where I live.
- SubDiane:   What if he comes back - does something? You're an accomplice.
- SumwonElz:  Don't worry about that. I screen my people very carefully.
- SubDiane:   You're dangerous and stupid.
- SumwonElz:  Perhaps. That remains to be seen, I suppose.
- SumwonElz:  Are you ready?
- SubDiane:   Ready for what?
- SumwonElz:  We're going to take advantage of all that sexual tension you
built up earlier, tonight with James.

Fingers trembling, she typed her answer:

- SubDiane:   I have no choice, do I?




				Chapter 8



Diane looked around the room again, the door was closed, the curtains were
drawn, and it was dark except for the glow from the monitor.

- SubDiane:   I'm here.
- SumwonElz:  I know. I am in no rush.
- SubDiane:   You know it's after midnight.
- SumwonElz:  Yes. Does that mean something special to you?
- SubDiane:   Only that I have to get some sleep.
- SumwonElz:  That's something we're going to have to talk about.
- SumwonElz:  There are two things I will say on the subject and no more.
- SumwonElz:  First, you are ours. Twenty four hours a day. 
- SumwonElz:  When you sleep is not our concern.
- SumwonElz:  Our concern is twofold: whom you fuck
- SumwonElz:  and how your descent into sexual slavery is handled.
- SumwonElz:  Second, you are certainly aware that sleep deprivation
- SumwonElz:  is a common way of assuring cooperation.
- SubDiane:   You already have my cooperation.
- SumwonElz:  We like assurance.
- SumwonElz:  No more will be said on this subject.

A knot formed in her stomach, her hands trembled, and she felt a sweat
beginning underneath her armpits. She looked at the clock: 12:17 a.m.

- SumwonElz   Is everything clear so far?
- SubDiane   Yes.
- SumwonElz   Good
- SumwonElz   Now, remind me of the instructions in the first story you
posted
- SubDiane   I don't recall
- SumwonElz   Oh, how sad. I recall that you were given a street corner to
drive to
- SumwonElz   then instructed to call a number from a pay phone
- SumwonElz   isn't that right?
- SubDiane   Yes
- SumwonElz   Then what?
- SubDiane   I was instructed to unbutton my blouse, standing there on that
corner
- SumwonElz   Good - your memory is returning
- SumwonElz   so, go on
- SubDiane   There wasn't much more to the story
- SumwonElz   that isn't what I meant. 

Diane's eyes grew wide. He was suggesting she act out the story. It was after
midnight, there would be minimal chance of anyone seeing her. Or would they
arrange something?

- SubDiane   The same corner?
"Member is not currently logged on"

She clicked "Sign Off", reset the Login Name, then turned off the monitor and
went to the door. Drive to her bank at 12:30 in the morning and stand on the
corner with her breasts exposed. He hadn't said how long. How long had it
been in her story? Maybe she should sign on and check. No, there was no time
limit, only as long as the woman on the phone told her. Should she look for
the phone number? No, they'd created a nonsense number.

Ten minutes later, she was on the road. She'd gone back into her room and put
on a running bra. With her blouse open and the running bra underneath, any
taxi driver or late-night worker who drove by would get an interesting eyefull
but nothing obscene. She'd agreed with herself she'd stay there for five
minutes, that was about how long it was in the story.

As the minivan approached the intersection, she looked up and down the roads in
both directions. No cars parked, nothing coming. It was not a busy part of
town and she didn't expect much traffic at that late hour.

She pulled the van up near the telephone stand and shifted into Park. With the
engine off, she opened the door and stepped out into the street. Sure enough,
no traffic. The streetlight was nearly overhead. That would be a problem if
someone drove by, but it was unlikely.

With nervous fingers, she unbuttoned her blouse from the neck to the waist. It
was still tucked into her skirt. She didn't spread the lapels wide, he'd given
no specific instructions.

"Clap! Clap! Clap!"

Diane spun around, shocked, and saw a man standing in the shadowy doorway of
her bank. He'd been in the far corner and she didn't see him as she walked up.
Now, he stepped into the light.

"You've done nicely, treading that line between compliance and defiance. I
give you credit. They're going to really enjoy breaking you."

A look of panic came over her face, she bolted for the minivan. He was close
and reached out, caught her wrist. "Did you forget what's at stake? Or maybe
you don't know the latest. Carl got his pictures back." He let go of her arm
and reached for her blouse. After pulling the front open, he pulled the
stretch bra up over her breasts, exposing them to the night.

"Nice." He stared at her for several seconds, then ran his hands over them,
one at a time and slowly. "There's something we thought you'd like to see..."

He handed her a series of pictures. Carl must have taken them when she passed
out in the hotel room. Diane with arms above her head, skirt pulled up, legs
spread. Diane with Carl kneeling beside her, hand and mouth posed to look like
a blowjob. Diane on top of Carl. Even one in which she looked to be going down
on Carl's wife. You couldn't tell from the photos that she had been
unconscious at the time.

"No, you didn't need these," she cried, her eyes watering. "Why did he have to
take these?"

A dark blue panel van rolled up the street and stopped at the curb beside them.
 The side door slid open and two men dressed in black stepped out. Diane's
eyes grew wide with fear and she tried to turn and run. But the man with the
photos grabbed her hair and the other two took her by her arms and legs and
carried her, kicking and squirming, to the van.

The door slid closed, locked, and the van sped away. The floor of the van was
covered with a mattress, several pillows and beer cans were thrown around.
There was a dim light coming from somewhere overhead.

"We have to deliver you somewhere. Why don't you just relax and enjoy the ride.
 Be nice to us and you might get home early and get some rest tonight. How's
that sound?"

The blackmail would have been enough, but Diane knew that she might be in real
danger if she resisted three men. One of the men sat down in front of her and
spread his feet so she was sitting between them. Diane reached for him and
unzipped his pants. She fished out his cock and started sucking it. 

"I wasn't going to ask for that, but I guess you're kinda eager," he said. The
three of them laughed. She tried to pull her head back, but he pushed it down.

She felt another of them sliding his hand over her ass.

"This is nice. Really clean, she must be new." His fingers scratched her
cheeks, then he slid his finger over the front of her slacks, feeling for her
cunt lips. The arousal from earlier tonight came back. She'd built herself up
laying under Jim but hadn't finished. Her body was already primed.  The
blackmailer had probably counted on that.

The van came to a stop. She heard the driver get out and heard his feet on the
pavement as he walked around the van. The big side door slid open.

"Get out," he ordered. The man inside pulled his cock out of her mouth and
helped her out the door.

They were in the parking lot of a Motel 6. One of them took her by the hand
and led her into the lobby.

"Wait here. Answer the pay phone when it rings." The man walked back to the
van and got in. The driver sped off, leaving her stranded and waiting. She
looked around and saw a sign. She was at a Motel 6 was on E. Ontario Ave. That
put her a safe distance from home, a bit north of town and near the water.
There was some small comfort in the fact that they were not meeting right in
her own neighborhood. But, how would she get home?

This is insane, she thought to herself. Why don't I call the police? Maybe
they could help convince Jim that this was all a frameup. Or, just tell him
"no". What's the worst that would happen. Divorce? It was a terrible
thought, the kids without them together, but they were old enough, they could
take it.

There would be no criminal charges, she continued. Just the recriminations,
the look on the faces of Jim and the kids. Who else? Who else would see those
chat logs and Carl's photos? They could make their way into the newspapers,
into porn magazines. The blackmailers could post the photos on the internet.
She would never be able to work again, who would marry her? Who would take her
in?

The jarring sound of the pay phone broke her train of thought. She watched the
clerk watch her as she stood up to answer it.

"You expecting a call?" he yelled.

"I am, actually. Thank you," she said, turning her back and trying to avoid
him.

"This isn't a public phone booth, you know," he called.

She picked up the phone and ignored him.

"Hello Diane," said a woman's voice on the other end. "Nice to see you."

"What do you want?" she snapped.

"Oh, be nice honey, it will make things easier on you. We want you to go up to
room 216 on the second floor, knock on the door and just see what happens."

"What kind of game..."

"click"

The phone was dead. She looked at the clerk who was staring at her, the put
the phone back on its hook. She walked out without saying anything to him.

The stairs to the second floor were halfway down the length of the building.
She walked it without looking around, intent on getting this over with. There
were a dozen or so stairs she had to climb to get to the second level. Room
216 was to the left and halfway down.

"Knock, knock!" her knuckles rapped at the door. It was unlocked and she
pushed it open. The lights were out and it was quiet. Slowly, she stepped
inside.

"Close the door behind you," she heard a voice say. It was too dark to tell
where it was coming from, other than that it was ahead of her. She pushed the
door closed and the room was nearly black.

"Walk forward."

She put her hand out in front of herself and stepped forward slowly, feeling
the carpet under her feet. 

There was a bright light that flashed and blinded her. She raised her arm to
protect her eyes but heard a stern "no" from somewhere in the room. She put
her arms at her sides. Hands grabbed each of her arms and she was led forward,
turned to the left, and walked forward again. Her eyes were closed against the
glare. Someone pressed something warm against her eyelids, then tied it into
place with a blindfold. She couldn't open her eyes at all, it was something
warm and soft, probably intended to keep her from peeking out the bottom of the
blindfold.

She felt the heat of the lamp near her face disappear and the hands released
her arms.

"OK, Diane. Strip."

The voice came from her left and close. There seemed to be at least 3 people
in the room. The voice didn't sound like Carl, or any of the men from the van.
 She couldn't be sure, though.

"Was there something confusing about that order?" This voice from directly
behind her.

"Uh, no. I...you don't want..."

A hand was pressed over her mouth. "We don't have any intention of gagging
you, but we will if you don't stop talking. Understood?" She nodded. "Good."
The hand was removed.

Diane unsnapped her pants and slid them down around her feet. Then, she pulled
the sweater over her head. She threw the sweater to the ground and slid her
arms out of the bra straps. Pulling it around to the front, she undid the
clasp. She felt a slight chill as her breasts came free. Then, she stepped
out of the pants and kicked them to the side. She stood with her arms at her
sides and feet just slightly apart, like a soldier at ease.

"The panties are an exception of some kind?" A woman's voice, to the left and
behind.

Her eyes watered again as she realized her helplessness in the situation. She
reached down and slid the panties over her ass, down her legs, then stepped out
of them and threw them in the direction of the voice.

There were several chuckles she heard from various points around the room. She
stopped her mind from trying to count the sources.

"OK, well, Roger, why don't you go ahead?" someone said.

"With pleasure," came another.

She felt "Roger" take her hand and lead her a few steps deeper into the room.
Then, stood in front of her and reached for her waist. Something pressed
against her back as he pushed her gently. Hands clasped each of her wrists and
they raised her arms about shoulder width high. They were pressed back and she
realized she was standing against a wooden cross of some sort. She felt ropes
passing over each of her wrists. They were going to tie here there! She
struggled, but the ropes had already been tied.

The hands released her, then she felt them at her ankles. Her legs were spread
apart about the width of her arms. Her legs were pressed back against wooden
beams as well and the ropes were secured around her ankles.

Someone standing in front of her took hold of her hips and pushed her up and
down against the main beam. She was able to traverse nearly a foot if she bent
her knees and stretched her arms slightly. The hands let go.

There was no movement or sound in the room. She waited for someone to touch
her. What would it be? Were they going to screw her? Photograph her? Had they
read some of the stories and gotten the idea of hitting her?

No one moved. She didn't hear any whispering, only a soft breath every now and
then from some corner of the room. 

It went on like this for a long, long time. Thoughts ran through her head. Were
they making a videotape? Were they doing this to see how she would react? Was
there a reaction they were after?

"So, what is the general consensus?" a voice broke into the silence.

"Well, it's clear that you've got her hooked. She hasn't said no to anything
yet, and if she was going to resist, it would have happened earlier. Now, we
have pictures and videotape as well as those chat logs." 

"Yes, she's hooked, but can she do the work?"

"She's done fine so far."

Diane counted at least three different voices, two male, one female. None of
them were familiar, so Carl and the others weren't part of this group.

"Diane, just for your information, it is very unusual for us to send someone
out on assignments this early in the game. We found ourselves short on a few
calls and you were next in line. You comported yourself well. I expected as
much, you fit the profile so well. Curious housewife, minor sexual
frustration, nothing that would prompt you to sleep around, but pronounced
enough that we could find and press that particular button..."

Her head was spinning. "The work?" "This early in the game?" "Short on a few
calls?" What were they running and how did she fit into it?

"We would introduce ourselves, but have found in the past that it's better for
you not to know our names, or even how many of us there are. It seems to keep
you more disoriented, more compliant. Never knowing whether convincing one or
two of us to turn on the others might be enough. Not knowing which wields the
actual power and which we are letting sit in just as observers.

"Oh, yes, there are, and will be, observers. In fact, one of the men you've
had chats with is in the room right now. We had him contact you early on, you
were involved in several chats with him, rather racy ones, I might add. We
bring them in from time to time, ones who might or might not have been in our
original group. It adds to the fascination for them. And we make a ton of
money off of it."

So they were pimps, selling her for money. Nothing more, nothing less. They
used the Internet to make the connections, gather the information, then used
blackmail to procure their whores. 

"There may be times tonight when we want you to answer questions. For that,
you can refer to us by numbers. I am One."

"I am Two."

"Three," a woman's voice, soft.

"Four."

"And that's all you need for now," One said.


				
				Chapter 9




"Now that you have some names to hang onto, let's take a look at you," said
Three.

She heard shuffling, they were moving around her, saying nothing. Then, they
sat back down.

"Not bad for a 38 year old Wonder Bread mom. Not the measurements you posted
on AOL, but still, respectable."

"I don't like her tits," said Four.

"Doesn't matter. We're not doing anything surgical this time," said Three,
sternly.

"Well, let's at least get her into a gym!"

"I agree, she's not in very good shape at all. Too many PTA meetings and ice
cream socials. You need to drop at least 20 pounds."

"All right, then it's agreed," announced One. "The gym, daily at first, then
perhaps it can taper off. Diane, do you have a membership anywhere?"

"No," she said quietly.

"All right. We want you at D--- Gym tomorrow morning signing up for a
membership. Several of us work out there, and that will give us a way to make
sure you're coming along quickly enough. What we want is ..."

They outlined a program to her, parts of her body they wanted "improved": her
breasts should hang in a particular way which they demonstrated by raising her
soft flesh with their hands, her thighs should be a bit thinner, her ass
firmer, her belly flatter. She half-listened, angry that they were treating
her like an animal, discussing grooming tips.

"You do not need to shave your cunt hairs. Keep your underarms and legs clean
at all times. Your color will be plum. Lightly rouge your nipples and color
your eyelids for all assignments. Clothes will be assigned on a case by case
basis. Your default uniform will be a plum colored, knee length dress, button
front, pleated skirt, garter belt and plum colored stockings underneath. Iron
bracelets and necklace, we'll provide those."

"You will want to keep a small purse with your things. Keep the toothbrush and
toothpaste and KY jelly with you at all times." 

"Yes, you might be called on to fuck someone at almost any time of the day or
night."

The words circled around inside her head until they got too loud. She screamed
at them.

"This is crazy! You're all crazy! I could get killed, raped, murdered, I
could get AIDS, VD, anything! You have to let me out of this!"

"No, we don't."

"What if something happens!??"

"You understand, don't you, that this isn't our concern?"

"But...but, if I'm dead, I can't bring in any money for you!" she tried in a
desparate attempt at reason.

"We make extra money for an unprotected fuck. You might try some of those
experimental cremes that are supposed to kill virus, but they must be
undetected by the customer. This is completely your concern."

She leaned her head down again and cried. They were insane, they could kill
her. She could bring a disease back into the house. There had to be some way
out. She couldn't imagine what it might be.

"Do you understand the instructions about the gym?"

"YES!" she yelled. "You assholes want me to look like the teenage fantasy
girls on the TV commercials!!!"

"No, Diane, don't be stupid. We know better. We just want you to have a body
like theirs. I don't think anyone really cares what you look like."

She collapsed again, sobbing deeply. Three continued talking.

"You also might want to consider some different size dildoes for your asshole.
There are plenty of them who are going to pay extra to use you that way and
it's in your own interest to widen yourself just a bit." She said it all so
nonchalantly, Diane knew she was lost. This was the woman making the
suggestion. Had she been through it before? Was she trying to be helpful?

"Diane, is this all clear?" Two asked.

"Y...yes..." she muttered between sobs.

Everyone was quiet and remained quiet for several minutes. She felt the tears
dripping down her cheeks, a drop of snot hung from the end of her nose. They
were not talking to her or among themselves. What were they doing? Just
staring? Drinking? Writing notes?

She heard the water running in the bath tub. There was the sound of dripping,
then more water running. It stopped. The room remained quiet again. She
heard shuffling on the carpet. Someone was getting closer.

"Ooh!" she jumped as something touched her cunt lips. At the same time,
something warm was being pressed into her armpits, more around her neck, and
she felt lips wrapping around several of her fingers. Lips sucked on her
nipples. A tongue was flickling lightly at her clitoris. The pressure at her
cunt increased and she felt what must have been a dildo sliding into her. 
Something warm was being wrapped around her calves and there were tongues
sliding up and down her thighs.

Her body responded instantly. The juices started flowing between her legs and
her mouth opened, ready for whatever they had in mind. No one attempted to do
anything other than build her further toward climax. She squatted as well as
she could, giving the dildo room to work up inside of her. She was panting
heavily and encouraging them to go on, go on, go on.

The warm feelings, she realized, were damp towels. She had never felt it
before, loved it. The tongues were eager and slid over her body, bringing
every nerve alive. The white lights started to pop before her eyes. She felt
her orgasm coming.

"Don't stop now," a voice said. "I've got the machine ready. Get her closer."

Panic spread through Diane's brain. What machine? Was it connected with the
dampness of the towels? Horror gripped her as she remembered stories of
torture with electric wires and water. The feelings were confusing her brain -
terror, lust, fear, desire.

"She's ready. Set up the mount." The mouths, fingers, towels, everything
left.

"No! No!" she screamed. There as a chill over her body as the damp spots
cooled. Her hips were still sliding up and down against the beam. Between her
legs, she felt something moving round. A loud "snap" noise told her that they'd
connected something to the main post of the beam. More motion down there and a
dildo was slid inside her again. Then, she heard a vibrator turn on. The
motorized bullet pressed against the outside of her cunt, just below her
clitoris. Someone removed the headphones.

"All yours honey. The camera's rolling and we're all waiting. We want to see
you cum."

"No, no, no," she cried. Tears rolled down her cheeks but the lust in her body
overrode the humiliation in her brain. She pressed her hips forward, eager for
the vibrator. It sent a charge through her entire body. Then, she started
pushing herself up and down, forcing the dildo deep into her, then back out
again. It was wonderful. The dildo was made of a thick rubber, wide but not
too wide. She loved it.

"Ah, yes, yes, yes," she was screaming, oblivious to the camera and the
audience but aware of them at the same time. The orgasm built quickly and she
was thrashing back and forth, her head hurling from side to side, her hair
flying. She felt pain as the dildo went too deep, she had to control herself,
but couldn't. She pushed down again and felt the sharp pain while the orgasm
flooded over her at the same time. 

"OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" she screamed. She held her hips
steady against the vibrator. Her hips shook in short, quick spasms for a long,
long time as she tried to build up to a second one. When it came, she threw
her head forward and back, hitting it hard against the post. She pressed it
hard against the wood, pushed her knees back flatter and let the vibrator drive
her over the brink again and again.

"OK, I'd say that's about enough," the voice said. She collapsed against the
support, her entire body limp and exhausted. They removed the dildo from its
mount and pulled it gently from inside her.

She was panting heavily. She felt a thin line of saliva drip from her mouth,
down her chin, and onto her chest. She wondered how long she'd been drooling.

The door to the hotel room opened and she heard people shuffling past her,
exiting. A few touched her, weighing a breast, pinching a nipple, or petting
her head. One person kissed her. She didn't know if it was a man or a woman.
They kissed deeply for several seconds, then the person moved on.

The door closed again and it was quiet in the room. She wondered if she was
alone. They couldn't leave her alone! Who would find her? The maid? 
Security? Some stranger would find her naked and tied to a wooden crossbeam in
a cheap hotel room in Chicago?

"Hello?" she called out. 

There was no answer. She strained at the ropes around her wrists. They had a
little give to them. She'd read before about escape artists and tried to lay
her wrist flat against the wood. She could slide it nearly, but not quite, out
of the rope. She tried her other arm. The same.

"Hey, is anyone in here?" she called again. "This isn't funny."

"We're here. Just enjoying your helplessness. 

"Fascinating, isn't it? One day, you're exploring domination fantasies in the
relative safety of the online world with complete strangers. Next day, you're
naked in a hotel room being filmed for dozens of them to jack off to. Funny
how things work out, isn't it?" It was One's voice.

Someone was untying the ropes from around her ankles. She didn't move her feet
when she was free, waited until her arms were untied.

"Are you SumwonElz?" she asked as she rubbed her wrists.

"Do you seriously expect me to answer that?" he replied.

"What now?" she asked, knowing it was useless to pursue the other question.

"Now, you go home and take a nap. I expect you're pretty tired."

She heard footsteps on the carpet heading for the door.

"Leave the blindfold on the bed. Clean up. Feel free to nap here if you like,
you're perfectly safe. We'll be back after six to remove the equipment."

The door opened, there were footsteps leaving, then it slammed closed.

Diane removed the blindfold, peeled the damp tissue from her eyes, and looked
around the room. There were three of four folding chairs, some magazines and
some empty glasses. The apparatus she'd been tied to was an elaborate device.
 Besides the parts she'd been secured to, she saw there were a variety of
eyebolts and buckles running up and down the middle beam and the arm and leg
beams. It looked well worn, she wondered how old it was and how many other
women had been used on it. Her clothes were around the room where she'd
dropped or thrown them. On the bed was a boom box with the headphones still
attached. Beside it were several audiotapes. She wondered which ones she was
on.



				 Chapter 10



Diane rolled over in bed and reached for the telephone.

"Hello..." she barely mumbled from the fog of her half-sleep.

"You sound horrible, do you have a cold?"

She sat upright in the bed, ran her fingers through her hair. "Jim?"

"Yes. You sound like you just woke up. Are you all right?"

"I'm OK. I don't know what came over me, I was just so exhausted last night..."

"Well, how long were you awake?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I know you took a shower, the towels were damp and you left the cap off
the toothpaste."

"Yes, yes, I just couldn't sleep, so I woke up...you know, I thought...that a
hot bath would do me some good."

"Well, it's kind of unlike you to have trouble sleeping. I hope nothing's
wrong. Maybe you should go to the doctor."

"No, no, I'm fine. I think it was just something I ate..."

"OK. Well, I was calling to tell you I'd be a little late tonight, not later
than seven or eight. You two feel free to have dinner without me, just keep
something warm."

"All right. Thanks for calling."

Diane put the phone back on its base and fell back into bed. The pillow felt
good. There were only a few things that had to be done today, maybe she could
get in another hour or two of sleep.

Something was nagging at the back of her head. Was there something else in
yesterday's email? No, that wasn't it. She closed her eyes and tried to get
comfortable, but didn't feel sleep coming on. She was still exhausted from
yesterday, her muscles were sore and her wrists were tender. But she was still
distracted by something else she couldn't ignore.

Ten minutes later, she gave up. Sleep wasn't going to come, her body didn't
realize it was tired. Or, she was feeling nervous and just not admitting it.
What was bothering her? She got up out of bed and walked to the bathroom.
Turned on the hot water and washed her face, then brushed her teeth and ran the
comb through her hair a few times. No reason to take another shower, the first
one was just a few hours ago.

The clock read 11 a.m. She knew what was bothering her. She had to check the
IN box.

+ + +

"You were not at the gym this morning.

"This requires an explanation. This afternoon at one, I want to see you at the
Erotic Warehouse bookstore downtown. Meet in the back near the booths. Bring
two rolls of quarters. 

"Wear your everyday uniform."

Diane realized that the 'everyday uniform' would mean a shopping trip. Where
would she find a dress that fit that description and be ready in two hours? A
panic set in. Perhaps something close would be good enough. With a quick
shower and a trip to the mall, she could probably make one o'clock. But just
barely.

+ + +

Diane searched through the different sizes on the rack. This was the fourth
store she'd checked and it was getting late. 12:10. There were a variety of
dresses that came close - right color-no buttons, buttons-no pleats,
pleats-wrong color. 

After leaving the store, she decided to do the shopping for the garter and
stockings. Maybe getting that task out of the way would free her up to
concentrate on the dress itself. She went into Victoria's Secret - it seemed
like the right place to buy that sort of thing. 

The clerk was able to fit her with the garter belt and stockings without making
her feel embarassed. Diane noticed a rack of dresses out of the corner of her
eye. There on the rack was a plum dress with buttons up the front. She felt a
rush of excitement as she walked closer and saw the pleated flow of the skirt.
It should have occurred to her that they'd searched for the 'uniform' already
and found it at a local store. They knew where she lived, why make it
difficult?

She paid for the items and went into the women's room near the information
booth in the mall. There, she quickly changed into the newly purchased outfit.
 Pausing to look at herself in the mirror, she realized she'd forgot to buy the
appropriate makeup. Well, at least it might be easier to match since she had
the outfit on.

She stuffed her old clothes into the Victoria's Secret bag and walked back out
into the mall. 

Shoes!

She realized her shoes - black - might work but also weren't quite perfect.
She stopped in a shoestore along the way and bought a pair of shoes that were a
better match. They hadn't asked for heels, but she bought them anyway. It
seemed likely they'd send her back if she showed up in anything else.

At the make-up counter, she simply asked the woman to match her 'color' and the
dress. It took only a few minutes. The woman behind the counter applied the
makeup to Diane, coaching her as she went along.

+ + +

It was five minutes after one o'clock when Diane opened the front door of the
bookstore.

It was a modern looking place, not like the dingy adult bookstores she'd seen
in movies. There were racks of magazines, glass cases full of 'adult devices',
and shelves full of videotapes on both walls.

The man at the counter looked at her, pointed to a small sign on the cash
register. 

$5 DEPOSIT TO ENTER. 
WILL BE APPLIED TO ANY PURCHASE. 
20 MINUTE LIMIT ON BROWSING

She reached into the small purse and pulled out her $20.

"How do you want the change?" he asked.

Puzzled, she replied, "whatever." He handed her a ten and a five dollar bill.

Diane looked around the store again, trying to find her rendezvous. There were
two or three men looking at magazines, no one looked up at her. Walking past
the magazines, she saw the overhead sign that read "PEEP SHOWS".

Underneath the sign, there was a bulletin board with pictures from the covers
of the dozen or so videos that were playing. There was an assortment of
behaviors, from couples to girl-girl to a bondage party.

"You're late."

Diane couldn't tell where the voice was coming from. It originated from
somewhere back in the booths.

"Come back here. Booth number 4."

She looked at the doors. Each had a number and had a copy of the videotape
cover tacked underneath it. Door number 4 was slightly open. The tape was
titled "World Record Orgy" and described a tape with one woman taking on over
200 men. There was a picture of a group of men milling around a long table
with drinks lined up. In the background was a woman laying on a matress with
several men standing around her, stroking themselves.

>From behind her, the door to #6 opened and a figure stepped out. She didn't
recognize him by sight or by his voice. Was this another new one?

"Did you bring the quarters?"

Stunned, Diane realized that she'd forgotten.

"Uh, I...forgot..."

"Let me get this straight. You didn't sign up at the gym..."

"I didn't know they meant first thing in the morning!"

"I understand that's what you were told. And don't interrupt me."

Diane looked as one of the other booths opened. A man stepped out and looked
at her. A smile crossed his face. He blew her a kiss. A few seconds later,
another man stepped out of the same booth and headed for the back door.

"You didn't sign up at the gym, you were late getting her, and you chose not to
bring the quarters?"

"I didn't choose, I just forgot!"

"Jesus, you play dangerous. Are you trying to get yourself hurt or exposed or
what?" The man didn't wait for a reply. He reached for her, put his hand up
underneath her skirt. As he raised his hand, the skirt slid up, higher and
higher, until he could see her exposed cunt.

"Well, at least you dressed properly." He let the skirt drop. "Let's get on
with it."

She watched him as he walked toward the back of the store. He stopped and
turned. "Are you waiting for something?"

Shaking her head, she followed him.

The man stood outside the door of the #10 booth. The video cover showed a woman
dressed in a rubber head-to-toe outfit. All that was exposed was her mouth,
which was held open by a ring of some sort.

"Knock...knock..."

The door opened slowly. Inside, she saw a man sitting on the bench. He looked
at her without speaking. He raised a hand and twirled a finger. The man
outside the booth reached for Diane and, holding her by the shoulders, turned
her around slowly.

The man inside the booth pointed to her neck the dropped his finger slowly
along the front of her body to the bottom of the skirt.

"Unbutton yourself for him."

Fingers trembling, she unbuttoned the top button. Slowly, she worked her way
down the front of the dress, hoping with each button that they would say
'enough'. When she'd unbuttoned the last one, the man outside, with one quick
motion, slipped the dress off of her and dropped it to the floor. 

Diane's hands reflexively rent up to cover her breasts but the man gave her a
stern look. She dropped them down to her sides. She couldn't believe it, she
was standing practically naked in an adult bookstore in downtown Chicago. And
neither of the men was touching her, just looking.

"Bring her back when she drops a few pounds," the man in #10 said. The door
closed and she heard the bolt slide from the inside.

"Oh shit, this could be trouble. This is a very regular customer and he is not
happy. Get your things and let's go." The man started walking quickly toward
the front of the store. "Come on!"

Diane grabbed the dress and pulled it on. She tried to button it as she walked
to the front of the store. The clerk gave her a grin as she walked past,
putting the last button into place and obviously feeling painfully exposed.

				Chapter 11


The man from Booth 6 led her into a diner a few streets over.

"There, sit," he said. She slid into the booth on the bench across from him.
He waved the waitress over and ordered two coffees. She sat silent, hands on
the table, looking at him.

"I wouldn't worry too much. Steve's often picky. I overreacted a little bit
because it's been a pretty hectic morning for me. You wouldn't believe what
I've had to do today..."

The waitress brought the coffee cups. He paused and waited for her to place
them on the table.

"Yeah, it's been a real bitch. Run here, drop that off, pick this up. I'm
exhausted."

She stared at him, wondering if she was supposed to care that he'd had a bad
day.

"Go ahead, have some coffee if you like," he encouraged her. "We've got a
couple of hours to kill until your next job. You want to hear about it?"

Her eyes widened slightly, the way they talked to her still shocked her. It
seemed like the transition from housewife/mother to whore was not real to them.
 Or at least it was of no concern at all.

"Coupla guys working out a construction deal. There's a big wig who holds the
purse strings. He's made it clear that he doesn't really care about the
numbers on the bid sheets, he's looking for some other compensation. Seems
he's big into the 'sloppy seconds' thing. That was him in booth 4 watching
that 'world record orgy' thing. I think it's a scam, but he likes it."

The man took a drink of his coffee, sat quietly for a little while.

"Anyway, here's the deal. We've got to convince him that he's number six or so
for the day. He isn't really interested in breaking any records, but he just
likes the idea that you're going to be soaking wet, full of cum, and exhausted.
 Some dried bits on your neck, chin, and titties add to the picture for him. I
didn't ask if he'd like to see some trickling out of your..."

"Anything else for you two?" the waitress asked. Diane tried to catch her eye,
gave her a frightened look, hoping she might be able to interrupt the day's
flow, but the woman ignored her.

"No, this is fine," the man told her. She walked away.

"I didn't ask if he'd like some trickling out of your ass, and if they don't
ask, I don't do." He picked up the cup and drained the rest of the coffee.
"Anyway, you're on for 3 o'clock. Come on, let's see what we can do between now
and then."

A chill panic gripped her stomach - was she going to be handed to a roomful of
men and be expected to take them on in the next hour and a half? How were they
going to get her from place to place? Could she take this?

Diane followed the man out of the diner and onto the sidewalk. 

"Are you sure about this?" she asked.

"I don't make mistakes." 

They walked several blocks to a run down looking hotel on a quiet street. They
entered the lobby. He had to ring the bell twice before the attendant - a long
haired, bearded man in his 30's or so, came in from a room behind the desk.

"Need a room for a couple of hours," he announced. The man looked at him,
looked at Diane, smiled and shook his head. 

"She's new, huh? Don't recognize her."

"Just give me the key."

"Okay. Okay, just asking. But if she's local, I'd like her number." He winked
at Diane, who turned her head.

"That wasn't very nice," Booth 6 said to her. "I think you need to apologize
to him."

Her knees went weak - was this going to be the first in his chain today?

"I'm sorry, I'm very sorry, please forgive me," she said in a panic. He smiled
at her and nodded. "I think he accepts it."

The elevator was broken so they took the stairs to the third floor. Inside the
room, there was a single bed, a small desk and a broken television set. It was
on and there was static and fuzz but no picture. The sheets were dingy looking,
the drapes were opened and she could see the window was dirty.

"OK, hang the dress up in the closet," he said. She watched him unbutton his
pants and drop them around his ankles. "Let's go."

Undoing her own buttons, she thought, well at least he's familiar. More or
less. She slipped out of the dress and reached for the hangar in the closet.
A mouse ran across the tip of her shoe and scurried across the floor.

"Oh, no, we can't do it here!"

"Sorry honey, but I gotta pay with my own money and I'm not some rich fuck
lawyer from uptown. We're fucking here. Otherwise, I gotta go out and find a
buncha guys to set you up and I don't have the time or energy for that today.
Let's go. I'll do you, we'll rig you up with some hand lotion or something
he'll think is the other guys, and you're set."

What was his part in the entire scheme, she wondered. If he had to pay for the
room himself, he was probably not part of the main group. Could she trust him?
 Maybe he was her way out?

"You know, we could help each other. I have plenty of money..." she said. He
stopped taking off his sock.

"Yeah?"

She walked closer to him. He didn't move - he was listening. 

"I have money and I have talents. Maybe we can talk about that a little."

She reached her arm around the back of his head. His greasy hair felt
disgusting, but she pulled him closer. When she kissed him, he opened his
mouth. She gagged, tasting the coffee and cigarettes, but forced herself to
appear passionate. Her hips pressed against him, she ran her free hand down
the front of his body and under the elastic of his boxers.

"You know, you've got a great face. Strong, rugged," she cooed, flicking the
tip of her tongue against his upper lip. He reached for her ass and she let
him. Her hand went to his cock and massaged it gently.

"You like me to suck your balls? Have you had that done? I hear it's the best
thing..."

"Oh yeah," he whispered.

She went slowly to her knees in front of him, pulled the shorts down and leaned
forward. Her hand worked gently up and down his cock while her tongue lapped at
his balls. She opened her mouth and let them gently slide between her lips.

"Oh fuck yeah," he moaned.

She pressed her tongue against the base of his cock, through the soft flesh of
the scrotum. Her hand was rubbing the head of his cock gently. His hips
started to work forward and back, fucking her palm.

Diane brought her other hand to her mouth. She licked it. When it was damp,
she slid it along the underside of his sack toward his asshole. 

"You're going to love this," she whispered.

She moved around to the head of his cock and she took it deep into her mouth.
At the same time, she slid her long index finger up into his asshole. He
jerked and cried out. "Oh, yeah!"

She worked her mouth in rhythm with her finger, sliding both his cock and her
finger in and out at the same time.

"Yeah, that's it, closer, you're getting there," he moaned.

She took him deep into her mouth, brought her other hand up and massaged his
balls. His spasms started and he unloaded his cum into her mouth. She
swallowed it this time without hesitation. It was easier than having it on her
tongue, then swallowing it.

"Oh, goddam, that was nice." He stroked her head for a few minutes. "But not
a good idea."

She looked up at him. He stepped away, pulled up his pants, then sat on the
edge of the bed. 

"Remember why we were here? Now, there's nothing to use to get you all
sticky..." A smile grew across his face while she felt her resolve collapse.
He was not going to help her at all.

"Now, we have to go find those guys I was trying to avoid..."



                                  Chapter 12



"Listen, we don't have to do this!" she pleaded.

Booth 6 was buckling his belt. "OK, I'm listening."

Her brain scrambled for the next sentence. If everything he said was true, she
needed to appear well used before three o'clock. What would give that
impression?

"OK, all he really wants is for me to LOOK like I've been fucking, right?"

"Right, princess," he laughed. "You have an idea?"

"You don't care how we do it, right?"

"Right again, but time is running out."

"OK. Uh, hand lotion..."

"He'll know from the smell. And the consistency isn't right."

"Vaseline creme..."

"Not right."

"School paste!" she tried desparately.

"School paste?"

She knew it sounded impossible. "Yeah, it's sticky, it flakes... With some
water and hand lotion, I can make it look like it's running out of me..."

"The smell will give it away."

"No, there's unscented! I can do this. Please, please, please...."

Her eyes were wide. He looked at her, looked her body up and down.

"I don't think I have the time or resources to get you fucked in time. I'll let
you try it. You know that if it doesn't work, it's both of our asses?"

"It will work," she said, wondering why she believed it.

+ + +

Diane left him napping in the hotel room. Down the street, there was a
five-and-dime. She bought some school paste, a variety of unscented hand
cremes, vaseline, and anything else she could think of that was white and
creamy. Between these three, she was sure she could come up with something.
She also bought a turkey baster, realizing that she needed some way to
introduce the mixture into her body.

Back in the hotel room, she tried a variety of mixtures in the hotel room cups.
 It was 2:30, time was getting short. She didn't know where they had to be at
3, but if it was far and he was still napping, it wasn't her fault.

After a few tries, she had what she felt was a good mixture. She dabbed some
on her neck and let it dry. It didn't smell, it seemed to be the right
texture. She put more on her chest and shoulders. Then, watered down a bit
more, she loaded up the baster.

She leaned against the sink and realized that she was leaning against a dirty
sink in a dingy hotel in downtown Chicago, about to shove a plastic nozzle up
her ass to simulate having been fucked. It was disgusting. She felt she
should just die and get it over with. What hope did she have of escaping the
blackmail?

Rather than consider it, she went ahead. Let the body go on auto-pilot, she
thought. The baster went into her ass painfully but the pain subsided after
the tip was in. She shoved it a few inches in, then squeezed the contents into
herself. When she finished, the did the same to her cunt.

"We ready to go?" she heard from the other room.

"I think so." She walked into the living room. 

He walked around her, bent her over and stuck a finger into each of her holes.


"It would fool me if I was horny. Not if I wasn't."

She felt fear running through her. What if it didn't work?

"I suggest you do your best to work him up first," the man continued. "He'll
want stories of the encounters earlier in the day. He likes to hear about
threesomes. Do your best."

+ + +

At 3:00 precisely, they knocked on the door of a hotel room in another upscale
hotel in downtown Chicago.

The man who answered was tall, thin, and completely naked. He was holding a
half-full bottle of whiskey. He didn't appear to be staggering, maybe he'd
just started into it.

"Come in, come in," he waved.

Booth 6 closed and locked the door behind them.

"So, this is Tanya, huh?" he said. There was no slur to his voice, only an
excitement and eagerness. "How's Tanya's day been?"

He waved his hand, indicating that she should turn around. She did a slow turn,
coming back to her position. 

"OK, now this time, let's see you turn around, bend over and grab your ankles."

She turned red hearing this and wondered why. She thought it must have been
the phrase rather than what she was doing. Compared to what she'd been doing,
this was mild. Turning her back to him, she bent over, reached down for her
ankles, and stood still.

"Yep," he said. She watched him walk closer, slide the skirt up over her ass.
He slid two or three fingers into her cunt, then out again. He kept this up
for several minutes, sliding them in and out, pausing, then doing it again.
After he finished, he pushed several fingers into her asshole and repeated the
motion. In and out with pauses in between. Finally, he pulled them out.

"Turn around," he ordered her. She stood up and turned toward him. He was
sniffing his fingers.

"Very nice. Not certain it's ALL cum, but certainly most of it is and that's
enough for me. How many today?"

"Seven," she lied.

"Long morning for you. You keep much of the money?"

Uncertain what she was supposed to say, she looked at Booth 6. He smiled and
spoke up. "She belongs to a group of us. We keep the money."

Anger rose in her chest, but she pushed it down. There was actually nothing
much false in what he said.

"Well, you can call me Rod. Get naked and come sit down on my cock. I want
you to put it inside your pussy, then tell me about them, the ones earlier
today."

He sat down on the floor in front of her. She removed her clothes, draping
them over an armchair, then straddled his hips. His cock was not stiff, so she
reached down to touch it.

"Do not touch me. Start telling stories. That better do it, or you get no
money." Rod looked up at Booth 6. "Isn't that the deal?"

"She'll do it for you, Rod. Relax."

She reached into her memory for a story. She remembered an online encounter in
which they staged a gang bang. She'd use that for the false memory. 

"Well, I...got a call this morning and went down to an all-night grocery store.
 The manager had several of his guys working double shifts to try and get a
display together in time for a big promotion. They'd put in long hours and
were exhausted and he wanted to reward them. So, they hired me out."

She watched his face. He was considering it, she had to be careful. His cock
was not stiffening appreciably.

"I showed up in tight jeans and a t-shirt. It was what he suggested. Most of
them are in their late teens, early 20's and he thought this would appeal the
them."

Rod nodded, she'd found some connection... maybe the age?

"There was loud music playing over the in-store speaker system. Rock and roll.
 I did a dance for them, shaking my hips, arms above my head, that kind of
thing. They were drinking a bit and a couple of them got up to dance with me.

"They started kissing and fondling me, I let them do what they wanted, kissed
back, touched, hugged..."

Rod's eyes were closing and his cock was stiffening, laying sidewise in his lap
but longer.

"There were boxes all over. They'd unpacked everything but there was still
plenty of stock. One of them started unbuttoning my clothes and the next thing
I knew, everyone was naked. A couple of them carried me to a stack of boxes
and put me face down, bending my ass over one edge, my face over the other.

"Someone started fucking me from behind and someone else shoved his cock in my
mouth. When the guy in back unloaded, the guy in front pulled it out and took
his place. All six of them worked me from mouth to cunt."

Rod was definitely interested, his cock was fully erect now. She straddled
him, slid her cunt down over his stiff cock, and squatted to the floor.

"Another cock entered my mouth and I tasted pussy juice and cum. This one was
coming around for seconds. I sucked him stiff again and then he walked around
back. This time, his cock went straight to my asshole. Another dirty cock in
my mouth and I realized what they were doing. They were going to go around a
second time up my asshole."

Rod had his hands behind his head, he was moaning and started meeting her
strokes with his own hip movements.

"One after another, they'd use my mouth to get themselves hard again, then, as
soon as a buddy finished with my ass, he'd walk around behind and take his
place. All six of them did me up both holes. It must have taken about two
hours. When they were finished, I was sore all over. My chest, arms and legs
hurt from the edges of the boxes. You can imagine how swollen my cunt..."

Rod jerked and let out a scream. She felt his cum starting to flow into her
and she bent down. "Come on, baby, give it to me, get in there with the
others..." He continued until he couldn't stop.

"Nice," Booth 6 commented from his chair.

"Yes, nice. I vote you keep her!" Rod laughed.

Booth 6 handed Diane her clothes and told her to get dressed. As they left,
she watched Rod hand over $200.00



                                 Chapter 13



When Diane got home, she checked her email again. The note from SumwonElz said
she would ave no more contact with them until Thursday, two days away. But she
was expected to continue working out at the gym.

In the morning, Diane drove to the D--- Gym to ask about joining. When she
walked into the building, she was met by a young woman wearing workout gear.
She had a serious look and a well toned body. Diane could tell she was
probably one of the staff.

"Um. Hello. I'm interested in maybe joining up," Diane managed to say.

"Let me just ask you, are you a friend of Rod's? Because he said you would
probably be coming in today." The younger woman gave her a pleasant look that
was somehow tinged with condescension, or at least a conspiratorial air.

"Well, I do know someone named Rod..."

"That's it then! So, you're up for the competition, hm? Going to remake
yourself in just a few short months?" The woman was already walking across the
gym, motioning for Diane to follow her. Diane had to practically trot to keep
pace.

"You know, you can't be caught moving slow around here!" the woman laughed.
"You never make your goal if you don't bust some ass!" She stopped in front of
a dressing room.

"Now, go on in there and put on the outfit you find. I told Rod I'd get you
started right away and I'm not going to break my word!"

Diane's head was spinning. Was the woman in on it? Rod was an organizer? Was
she talking to the wrong person?

"Are you sure we don't have to sign any paperwork or anything?" Diane asked,
trying to gain some time to think through her situation.

"Nothing. You're to start right up. Rod has paid for your membership and he
wants me to make you a winner. The story we are going to tell is this: you
want to compete for the Mrs. Chicago pageant. We all know the REAL story, but
that one will do." The woman winked at Diane.

The REAL story? What did the woman know? Who was Rod?

"Stop thinking and get dressed," the woman said, her tone menacing now. Diane
stepped into the small booth and started taking her clothes off. She noticed an
overhead camera in the corner of the dressing room. 

"Is this camera on?" she called.

"Oh, pleeease!" the woman answered, walking away. "Meet me at the rowing
machine."

When she was dressed, the trainer - Liz by name - had Diane stand beside the
machine with her arms raised. Liz felt her belly, thighs, chin, arms and legs,
making comments to herself as she did. Diane was acutely aware of being looked
over like a piece of cattle but made no comment. 

"OK, I think I can do it for them...for you I mean," Liz said with a grin. She
ran Diane through her paces. She did fifty crunches -- painful and slow, but
fifty was the goal -- and worked out on several different weight machines. By
the time they finished, Diane could hardly walk and did not think she'd make it
home. In the dressing room, she collapsed on a bench.

"I can tell it's been a long time since you've worked out. This is good for
you. All kinds of fringe benefits. Go get a shower and go home." The woman
walked out the door and back into the main floor of the gym.

Diane stood in the shower for a long time, feeling the warmth slowly bring her
some comfort. Her muscles were on fire but there was something happening in her
head. The endorphines were kicking in. She was feeling good, excited. 
Exhausted, but excited. She dressed and drove home.

No one would be home for a few more hours. She was feeling horny and, with the
blackmailers not around, in control of her life again. She logged on and
skimmed her email. Many proposals again. She started deleting them.

"Ding!"

- 2Big4U:    Hey, honey!
- SubDiane:   do I know you?
- 2Big4U:    Does it matter? I read your profile, sweetcakes.

Diane shook her head. Her profile was pretty innocuous.

- SubDiane:   what did you like about it?
- 2Big4U:    the part about meeting in real life.

There was nothing about that in her profile. 

- SubDiane:   you got the wrong girl
- 2Big4U:    I doubt it. come on, you up for some cyber?
- SubDiane:   wait a minute

A bit frightened by the possibliity of what she might find, Diane clicked on
the commands that would show her her own profile. It had been altered. It gave
her city, her correct age and number of kids, and listed her hobbies as "real
world meetings for anything you like, once you've proven yourself worthy in
cyber"

She felt herself sinking down another level deeper into the cesspool of her
life. She changed her profile and saved it, wondering how long it would take
him (or them?) to change it again.

- 2Big4U:    I'm waiting, honey.

Diane felt a familiar desire coming up. The screen had some kind of Pavlovian
effect on her, even after all that had happened. There was still over an hour
before anyone would be home. 

She followed him into his private chat. They circled each other a bit warily,
then he started making demands. She felt a familiar sensation as she delivered
on each of his demands. As they went deeper and deeper into the session, she
slid her hand down into her pants and masturbated herself, her other hand
furiously typing away to keep his interest. He had her chained to a wall in a
dark cave, back against the hard rocks, iron shackles on her wrists and ankles.
 He was ravaging her for the third time, pressing harder she was cutting her
shoulderblades and hips against the rocks. Her mouth was devouring his tongue,
her cunt a starving man at his first meal. She kept trying to raise her knees
and wrap her legs around him but the chains around her ankles stopped her. She
was crying from the effort. He shot his cum into her shot his cum into her,
then pulled his cock out and left the room.

Diane fingered herself even after 2Big4U had logged out of their private chat.
What an asshole. Once he was done, he'd signed off. It was not unusual, but it
was frustrating. She went back and cruised the rooms called "SubF4U", "silk
stockings" and the usuals. There were a few IMs but no one who sounded like he
could do it.

Finally, in "short skirts", she decided to give someone a try. He took her to
a private room and started massaging her shoulders. She relaxed under his
hand. He worked his way down her back, pressing the muscles hard. She sat in
her room, imagining strong hands on her. He worked his way down to her hips,
then moved his hands around front of her. His fingers slipped down and opened
her up. His left hand reached for hers and he slid two of her own fingers into
her. 

She was enjoying this, he was imaginative.

He was kissing her neck, licking her beneath the ear. His other hand roamed
the front of her body, from nipple to clit, from belly to cunt lips. She felt
the tension building in her body and started massaging herself. She spread her
knees wide and continued typing responses to his advances. She closed her eyes
for a minute and leaned her head back, moaning. 

"Mom?" came a call from the hallway.

Diane jerked her head forward, sat up straight in the chair. He daughter was
home, she must have not heard her come in. She checked the clock. It was nearly
four!  She'd been online over an hour and a half!

"One minute, honey!" she yelled. Diane clicked off the computer and stood up.
She smelled her fingers. They smelled like her. There was nothing in the room
she could use to mask the scent.

"Could you get me a glass of soda from the fridge?" she called to her daughter.

"Sure." She heard footsteps going down the stairs.

Diane rushed from the room to her own, washed her hands with hot water, and put
on too much hand lotion. When her daughter handed her the glass, it almost
slipped through her greasy fingers.

"Come on," Diane said, "let's get dinner ready."



				Chapter 14



Dinner was quiet that night. Diane was still digesting the fact that she'd
almost been caught by her daughter in an online cyber session. After dinner,
Jim had some research to do and he commandeered the computer. She went out for
a drive. She was edgy, anxious about how to keep her two lives separate. She
found herself in a local Border's Books, thumbing through magazines on house
decorating, but her mind walking up and down the hall at the Palmer House
hotel.

She shook her head to clear the thoughts then went and bought herself some
coffee. Sipping it slowly, she closed her eyes and drifted. Her head was
filled with thoughts of the encounters over the last week, interspersed and
merging with visions of some of her online sessions. This is scary! she
thought. I'm enjoying some of it...

The thoughts were still dancing around inside her head when Diane pulled up in
the driveway. There was a strange car on the street in front of the house. Her
first thought was that someone was spying on her. When she saw it was empty,
she was afraid one of the blackmailers had come to give something to Jim.

Once inside the house, she found everyone getting ready for bed. No mention of
anything. Must have just been a neighbor's car.

"Do you want the computer?" Jim asked. "I'm finished and I'm going to bed
soon."

She hugged him and gave him a small kiss. "Yes, I guess I'll do some looking
around."

Diane closed the door behind her and logged on. There was no mail.

She decided to get a good night's sleep.

+ + + 

The next day, Diane woke early. She made breakfast for Jim and poured herself
a strong cup of coffee. She checked email again but there was nothing. 

She cleaned the kitchen, straightened some things around the house. Her energy
was rampant, unfocused. She found herself moving things from one end of the
room to the other, then back again.

Diane checked her email several times before going off to the gym. Liz ran her
through her routines but made no comments at all about what she might do when
she left.

Back at home, after a light lunch, she checked her email. Dozens of letters
from people who described themselves as 'local to Chicago'. She deleted them
all. Nothing from SumwonElz. Diane leaned back in the chair. She was afraid.
 Now that there was nothing coming, it felt like she missed it. She started to
wonder about herself, about her stability. That she might miss hearing from the
blackmailer... What did it mean?

She ran some errands that afternoon, driving to the bank, grocery, and to a
craft store. There was nothing she really needed, but buying craft items
seemed so normal compared to her life over the last 2 weeks.

At home again, no email. She went to the kitchen and started putting dinner
together. They ate together, watched some television, and eventually headed
for bed. Jim fell asleep as soon as he hit the pillow. She tossed and turned
until around 11, then went to check email again.

There was a message. It read:

"1:30 this morning. Davey's Bar on B---- Street. Blue jeans, grey sweatshirt,
conservative white bra and panties. comb your hair and wear heavy makeup. Blue
eyes and red lips. There will be a red truck in the parking lot."

That was all. There was no contact or chat from SumwonElz. She looked at the
clock. It was 11:20. She crawled back into bed and set her alarm clock.

At 1:10, the alarm clock buzzed. She reached for it, but not before Jim rolled
over and opened his eyes. "What's that?"

"Oh, I was napping today and must have set it for 1 a.m. instead of 1 p.m." she
said.

He chuckled. "Women!"

She waited until he was breathing steadily before she slipped out of bed. She
went to the basement to find the clothes they wanted - there were plenty of
extra down there waiting to be ironed or carried upstairs. She dressed as they
instructed, brought her make up with her in the car.

The drive to the bar was not long. She stopped a few blocks away to put on her
heavy makeup. She watched in the rearview mirror as she turned from housewife
to whore. She pursed her lips and looked at herself. Not bad looking,
actually.

The minivan pulled into the parking lot and she parked it. When she stepped
out, she took a deep breath and enjoyed feeling the cool air. Since she'd
started exercising, she was feeling better and she looked down at her belly.
It was looking nicer too.

There was a red pickup truck not too far from the front door. She saw two men
standing beside it, sipping beers from bottles. Diane picked up her small
purse and started across the distance between them.

"Hey, it's SubDiane!" one of them nudged the other.

She was stunned to hear her online name said out loud. It sounded a little
silly.

"Hey, Diane! It's me 1derBoy!" one of them stepped up to her and put out his
hand. She shook it and gave him a puzzled look.

"You know, from the chats? We met in 'long legs, short skirts'. You did me
ten ways from Sunday. It was great!"

The other man stepped closer, nudged his friend aside. "I'm XMANX, we met in
the SubF4U chat a while back." He didn't shake her hand, just looked at her
like a wolf looking at a chicken.

Diane didn't know what to say. She'd never considered that some of her tricks
might be chat partners. That seemed to change something for her.

"Well, listen, honey, we don't have all night. I brought a little something
for us..." He raised a handful of papers and slapped them with his other hand.
"Chat logs. Now, Davey and I have something in common here. Look, right on
page four..."

Diane looked at the chat log. He pointed at a passage in which she invited the
two men in the chat room to take her at the same time.

"Yeah, Tom and I had the same fantasy and we played it on you. When we heard
you were available, it just seemed natural we'd take the next step..."

They walked her to the truck and invited her to sit between them. Tom drove
them to a nearby hotel and they walked up the stairs and into a room.

"Hey, you got any preference which of us works you from which end?" Davey
laughed. He gave Tom the high-5. They were taking off their clothes already,
both looking at her as they did.

"Come on, honey, let's get this show on the road."

Diane felt herself give up before she even resisted. She pulled the sweatshirt
over her head then unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. She was standing there
in the bra and panties when Davey stepped over and grabbed her arm.

"What the shit kinda hooker are you? This looks like my mama's underwear!"

Tom laughed. "Hey, maybe she's moonlighting. You a waitress or something,
hon?"

Tears welled up in her eyes as they clapped each other on the back and stared
at her. "Well, hey, at least her ass looks sweet. Turn around and let us see
you, honey."

Diane turned her back to them and put her hands on her face. She sobbed as they
talked about her, what she'd look like with her legs spread, with her titties
hanging down, on her knees with her ass up in the air.

"Come on, come on, get that shit off!" Davey said between chuckles. She
stripped naked and got on her hands and knees.

Davey stepped around front of her and squatted slightly. She opened her mouth
and took his cock in. He pushed the limp flesh between her lips and she moved
her tongue around the head.  Tom knelt on the carpet behind her and she heard
him spit on his hand, felt him rubbing it on his cock. Humiliated to be acting
out this chat in real life, she closed her eyes and focused on Davey's dick.
It was getting harder. She thought if she could just work him fast enough, she
could finish him off, then concentrate on Tom. But Tom was already hard and
shoving himself between her parted cunt lips. They were pushing and pulling in
rhythm with each other, her in the middle. Each would push deep into her, hold
it for a few seconds, then pull back out. After several minutes of that slow
working, they both started moving faster. In minutes, they were moaning and
hammering away at her from each end. Davey was the first to go, shooting his
warm cum into her mouth. He kept her head close and she had to swallow it to
keep from gagging. Tom heard Davey coming and that pushed him over the edge.
She felt him grab her tight and plant himself deep inside, shaking her hips
with his hands to try and make himself cum. 

"Oh yes! You live up to your reputation, honey!" Davey said as he pulled his
pants back up. She stood up and walked to the bathroom. She ran the warm water
over a washrag and pushed it between her legs to soak up the cum that was
dripping from her.

"Yeah, a nice tight little pussy, Diane. You gotta keep it like that for me,
OK?" Tom laughed and he and Davey talked to each other about which end of her
they liked better. They agreed they'd have to do her again, switching places,
before they'd really know.

She walked out of the bathroom and saw them standing near the door, both
dressed. "Well, hon, hope you get home safe and sound. The cash is on the
dresser there." She looked where he was pointing and there were five $50's laid
out in a line. "Nice doing business with you."

They walked out and closed the door behind them. 

Diane fell on the bed and cried. After a while, she looked at the clock. It
was 3:30 in the morning. She had to get home. There were no taxis on the
street. She tried to get into the hotel lobby but it was locked. She knew
better than to ring to ask to use the phone. There was a pay phone on the next
corner. She walked down the block, careful not to make eye contact with anyone
in either of the two cars that passed her.

The taxi driver brought her back to the bar and she drove home. She changed
clothes and scrubbed her face clean in the basement bathroom before going
upstairs. Jim hadn't stirred in his sleep. She climbed in and slept as far on
her side of the bed as she could.



				Chapter 15



Traffic was slow again as she headed for the gym. She felt the stiffness in
her knees and elbows - lack of sleep always did that to her. She was tired from
last night. Jim had woke her up early and asked for breakfast, which she
cheerfully provided. By the time he left, she had only another hour or so to
nap before getting up and dressed for the gym.

The parking lot was not crowded, she got a spot near the door. At least
something was going right!

Inside, her trainer Liz was right there as usual. Liz gave her a smile and
followed her into the changing room.

"Tired?" she asked.

"Well, I didn't get a good night sleep..." Diane muttered. She pulled off her
pants and pulled on a pair of blue exercise tights.

"I guess not, with those two country boys going at you all night..."

Diane spun her head to look at Liz, but Liz had turned around and was walking
out of the room. She knew! She wasn't just a trainer they'd hired, she was in
on the whole thing! Was she part of the group that had been in the hotel room?

Feeling disoriented again, Diane finished changing her clothes. She walked out
into the gym and looked for Liz.

"Over here," she heard Liz call. Liz was standing beside a large weight
machine and holding two handles attached to metal wires. "Come on, I want to
start working on upper body strength!"

Diane took the grips from her and was nearly pulled over. "This is too heavy,"
she protested.
"Nope. You can do it. Let's go!"

Diane grunted as she tried to pull the cords. The weights came up, slowly, but
they came up inside the machine.

"Ten of those, then a rest," Liz told her.

Diane wanted to yell at her, scream "you're one of them!" but she was
distracted by the stretch of her muscles and the feeling of determination to do
the damn exercise no matter what.

"Hey, listen, honey. I just want you to know, you're not the only one, OK?" Liz
said. "Ten of those, then meet me at the treadmill."

Diane braced her feet on the floor and watched Liz walk to the front desk.

When she finally came to the treadmill, Liz was waiting. "You're doing nice
here, I like the way you look. We're going to work your arms a bit this week,
but keep up on the other things as well. You're up to, what? about 100
crunches?"

Diane nodded. 

"Good. I want you on this treadmill for 30 minutes, then find me and give me
120 crunches." Diane set the treadmill at a fast pace, then walked away without
another word.

She walked away again. Thirty minutes? At this pace? This was quite a jump
from yesterday. She stepped on the machine and was nearly thrown off. She
gripped the handrails, got her legs running, then jumped back on the treadmill.
 

By the time she reached the fifteen minute mark, she was soaking with sweat and
panting heavily. This must be double what we did yesterday! she thought. Her
arms were pumping hard and she felt the burning in her legs and calves.

When the timer finally went off and the machine slowed down, she was dripping
sweat and could barely catch her breath. She looked around the room for Liz
and saw her standing near the free weights, staring. No time to a break.

Diane stumbled to the water cooler and took a drink. Then, she walked to where
Liz was standing.

"I can't do this..." she puffed out.

"Nonsense. You're in wonderful shape, from what I hear. Now, get on that
incline board and let's see 120."

Diane's eyes grew wide. "Incline board? We've never done that."

"First time for everything, honey. Let's go."

She reached and locked the board into first position - Diane's feet would be 12
inches or so higher than her head.

Diane lay down on the board and locked her ankles under the pads. With her
knees bent and hands behind her head, she started the count. Pulling herself
up in this position was harder than anything she'd done before. "One..."

Liz stood beside her the entire time, encouraging her, demanding she not stop.
"You can do it, let's go. Remember, there's really no choice, is there?" After
an eternity, Diane finished number 120 and dropped her head down, panting and
grunting.

"Get up. We're not done."

She rose to her feet, steadying herself against the wall. "I can't even walk,
Liz..."

"All right. I'll give you a break today. Get naked and take 15 in the sauna.
I want everything sweated out of you."

Diane staggered back to the dressing room and peeled off her exercise clothes.
Grabbing a towel from the rack, she made her way into the sauna.

It was a dry sauna and she laid the towel down on the redwood bench before
sitting down. There were two other women there. One was an older woman,
probably in her 50's. She was in good shape, her skin was somewhat leathery,
but her muscles showed good tone. The other woman was grey haired and somewhat
older. Her breasts sagged and the skin hung from her arms and thighs with
little muscle covering the bone. 

They looked at the door, then looked at Diane. She had her arms at her sides,
knees relaxed, legs slightly apart. Her eyes were closed but when she opened
them, she saw both women staring directly at her.

"Hi," she said, trying to be cheerful.

The women looked at each other and smiled. The younger one pointed her finger
at Diane.

"I like the way her mouth is shaped. I'll bet she's a good cocksucker."

Diane leaned forward, certain she'd heard wrong.

"No, I don't think so. Looks like a nice motherly type to me. Quick one with
the lights out."

She laughed nervously, certain they were joking, testing her in some way as a
new member of the gym.

"Do I know you?" she asked, trying to break the ice.

"No, Diane, you don't. But we know you. Now, please keep quiet," the older
woman said. She turned to her partner. "As I was saying, a nice twice-a-week
fuck, lights out, on her back, whispering sweet nothings to him."

"I don't know. I'll bet she takes it both ways. Look at her knees, I'll bet
she's been on her knees sucking cock at least twice this week already!"

Diane's head was swimming - did they know something or had they overheard her
name in the gym? She wanted to get up and run out of the room, but Liz had
told her to stay and she did not want to get on her bad side.

"Diane? Would you spread your legs a bit wider? We'd like to see what he's
selling these days."

She felt her stomach knot. They knew. They were in on it, Liz was in on it,
and they were putting her on display here in the sauna for these crones.

Tears welled in her eyes - they immediately dried in the heat.

"Come on, honey, don't be shy. We're all women, you know..."

The two of them laughed. "Come on. Feet up on the bench and open up!" The
woman's voice was stern now, like a schoolteacher scolding an errant child.

Diane leaned back and closed her eyes. She spread her knees and reluctantly
raised her right leg. She planted her foot on the bench.

"Both feet," the older woman reminded her.

Sobbing now, Diane raised her other foot. She felt the hot air between her
legs, on her thighs and her exposed cunt lips. 

"Open yourself up a bit." She wasn't sure which of them had said it. Things
were blending together now. She reached down with one hand and spread her lips
slightly apart.

"Oh, come on, you can do better than that. Here..." the younger woman stood up
and lunged at Diane. She stuck her thumbs up inside Diane and used them to
spread her open wide.

"This is nice. I'll bet those boys loved you last night, hm?" She ran her
fingernail over Diane's thigh, tracing a small figure 8. Then, she let go and
went back to her seat. 

Diane kept her eyes closed, sobbing softly, hands on her ankles to keep her
feet from slipping off the bench.

Several minutes later, she heard them get up and leave the room without a word.
 She put her feet down and her legs back together. Liz came and knocked on the
door. She opened it and stuck her head in. "You did OK. You can get dressed
and go home now."



				Chapter 16



After her humiliation in the sauna, Diane didn't feel she could go home. She
drifted around town, shopping, sipping coffee in espresso bars, nosing around
in bookstores. She didn't want to go home and face everything she'd find
there: the email, her husband, her daughter, her life.

It was getting close to four o'clock when she finally pulled up in her
driveway. Like it or not, this was her life and she had to go back to it. She
was the first one home and she immediately went to the PC to find out what they
were going to want next. The email told her that she had the weekend "off", but
she was to do at least two sex chats and email the logs to SumwonElz. Things
would start up again on Monday. 

The instructions were to show up at the Motel 6 again, this time wearing a red
blazer and a leather bra underneath. She was to find a bra that would leave
her nipples exposed. She could wear whatever else she wanted, pants, skirt,
but they were to be black. The email said to be at the hotel at 11, and to
make sure she didn't skip her workout at the gym.

There were dozens of other emails from strangers who'd heard about her via
postings SumwonElz had done in a variety of sex-related newsgroups. There were
still no instructions from him about how to handle them, so she deleted them
all quickly.

+ + + 

On Saturday, she told her husband she needed to go shopping for clothes for a
dinner party they were invited to in a week or two. He was busy with his
reading and nodded, ignoring her. She wondered for a moment whether he'd even
care if they delivered the logs, but then she realized what would happen and
left the house.

Diane drove to the Erotic Warehouse again and looked around for the leather
clothes she needed. They had several different kinds. She selected one that
fit the requirements and paid cash. Then, she shopped for a red blazer. She had
two at home, but didn't want to corrupt them with the stench of what her life
was becoming.

+ + +

That night when everyone was in bed, she signed on again. There were more
emails asking for meetings. Many of them were referring to places in Chicago.
Did they know? She checked her profile. He' changed it again. Mentioned her
city and listed a whole new set of sick hobbies. She winced when she saw he'd
added "enemas" to the list from last time.

Several IMs sprang to life on her screen. She went through the motions of the
online chats without any energy at all, just the knowledge that if she didn't
play the game, her logs wouldn't be convincing and who knew what they'd do to
her?

+ + +

Monday morning, she woke up with a feeling of optimism. She couldn't explain
it. Nothing had changed in her life, she'd mailed the logs Saturday night
(actually Sunday morning) and had no response. Maybe the lack of response made
her think he'd moved on?

She made coffee and toast for herself, ignored the temptation to check the
computer. There was an assignment and if he had anything else to add, fuck
him. She'd go through the motions of Friday's assignment and to hell with them
all.

Her rebellious feelings faded slowly but by the time she got to the gym, they
were gone. She saw Liz and was again confronted with the reality of her
situations. She was a whore. They told her when and who to fuck. It was that
simple.

"Come on, let's get on with it!" Liz said, giving her a hug around the
shoulder. "You look so forlorn today!" She didn't wait for an answer, just
walked off to work with one of the other customers. 

Diane dressed and went into her routine. She saw Liz watching her now and then,
checking on her, giving her stern looks when she didn't seem to be sweating
hard enough.

When she finished, she went into the showers and let the hot water wash away
the pain in her muscles. She stepped out of the shower and walked back to the
locker room. Liz was there, standing beside her locker. The locker was open.

"I just wanted to reassure you that it's OK to dress here, no need to change
into your uniform in the car or anything like that," Liz said with a twisted
smile. She reached into the locker and took the leather bra out of a crumpled
brown bag. "Don't be shy, go ahead and put it on." She threw it to Diane.

Diane looked around the room. At least they were alone.

"Do you..."

"Shut up and put it on," Liz barked. Diane threw the towel into the basket and
took the bra from her. She wrapped it around herself and buckled it into
place. Liz helped her, adjusting the cups and tugging her nipples until they
were centered through the round openings.

"It's a nice look for you," Liz said. She leaned forward and gave Diane a kiss
on the lips, then turned and walked back out to the gym floor. Diane felt weak,
how much was she going to be subjected to?

+ + +

Diane showed up at the hotel room number she'd been given at precisely eleven.
When she knocked, the door opened and she was waved inside by a middle aged man
in a suit. He didn't speak much, just laid $50 on the dresser and started
undressing. She took her cue and removed her clothes. 

It was a mechanical fuck, he climbed on top of her, grunted a few times, and
got off. Then, he stood up, got dressed and left.

She put her head down in her hands and sobbed slightly. This didn't even have
the excitement of the cyber fucks she'd had on the weekend.

When she'd pulled on her clothes and got down to the car, there was a note on
the windshield. She was to go to another room right away. She looked back at
the hotel and saw that a man was standing in a window on the second floor
looking at her. The note said room 210. 

She climbed the stairs and looked. Room 210 was the room with the curtains
open and the man standing, watching.

"So, you just finished one downstairs?" he asked as he slipped off his shoes.

"Yes," she answered, wondering what his game was.

"Did it feel good?" He was unbuttoning his shirt.

"Feel good?"

"You know. Did you like it?"

She felt trapped. What was the right answer, what was he fishing for?

"It was all right," she said, trying to steer a middle course.

"Well, I just wondered. You know. You must do it all day long, I always
wondered what that was like..." He was naked now except for his briefs.

"Are we going to talk?" she asked, hoping she might get away with not fucking
him by telling him a story. Maybe he wanted to masturbate.

"No, I was just trying to be polite. Come on over here and kiss me."

She raised her hand. "We don't kiss, that's part of the deal."

"I paid extra and I was told you'll kiss me." He stepped closer, his arms out
and his cock half erect already.

Diane knew this was part of what they were using her for and knew she couldn't
resist. She raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck. His mouth opened
and he stuck a wet tongue between her lips. She opened her mouth wide, gagging
on his foul breath. He was slurping and dripping down her cheek and she had to
close her eyes to keep from passing out.

"C'mon baby, you know you love it," he muttered between kisses. His hands were
on her ass, squeezing tight. He moved one hand around to her cunt and slid a
finger inside her. "You're going to love this..."

She opened her legs, trying to let him in without hurting her. He was clumsy
and anxious.

"Baby, I'd love to feel you inside me," she moaned, trying to move him along.

"Oh yeah, see?" he said with a triumphant sound. "You're gonna love it."

She laid down on the bed, spread her legs and he climbed on top of her. He
pumped quick and hard, anxiously working himself inside her.

"Oh lover, come on!" she cooed. He came in minutes.

+ + +

Back at the car again, she found another note. They were keeping close to her
today. The note listed an address in one of the middle-income suburbs and just
said "drive there."

She crumpled it and threw it on the ground. The address was about fifteen
minutes away and when she arrived, there were two cars parked outside. The
house had a FOR SALE sign on the lawn. She parked and walked up the steps to
the front door.

"Ah, we've been waiting for you!" said one of the two men inside. "This is
going to be the perfect place for the two of you, just wait and see!"

Obviously the salesman, she thought. The other man was dressed in a black suit
and didn't say anything. He just nodded to her, indicating she should enter.

"So, where do you want to start the tour?" he asked.

"The basement," the man in black said in a flat voice.

"Sure, sure. Come on around here." The salesman went on and on about the
living room and kitchen as he walked them to the steps. Diane nodded her head
and muttered "oh yes" now and then to try and make this surreal situation seem
somewhat more normal.

"As you can see, they've rewired everything but the basement is not
finished..." the man was saying. The man in black raised his hand and the
salesman stopped talking.

"Diane, come over here to the middle of the room." She followed him. "Now,
raise your arms above your head and see if you can grasp the beams."

She looked at the salesman who had a nervous look on his face. Her arms went
up. The ceiling was higher than normal, she could barely touch the crossbeams.

"Do you think they're strong enough to support her weight?" the man in black
asked the salesman.

"Excuse me?" he muttered.

"Never mind. Diane, step over to the wall." She lowered her arms and walked to
the concrete wall.  The man in black stepped up to her and pulled off the
blazer. The salesman's eyes bulged as he saw her nipples poking through the
leather. "Now, face the wall, arms spread wide, press against the stone." She
assumed the position he was describing. He walked to the wall and pressed her
left knee with his hand. "Spread them a bit wider." She turned red, wondering
what the salesman was thinking. She turned her head away from him.

"This is good. I think we can make the necessary arrangements. Stay there a few
minutes while I look at the rest of the house." The man in black went back to
the staircase and walked up. 

Diane kept her eyes closed. Her thoughts were racing. What would the salesman
think? What would he do? She heard the footsteps upstairs walking slowly
through the dining room, kitchen, bedrooms. The salesman didn't budge as near
as she could tell. There were no noises in the basement at all.

After what seemed like a long, long time, the man in black came back down the
stairs. "We'll take it. I think it's fine. Diane, go up to the bedroom and
take off the blazer and your pants." He motioned for the salesman to go up the
stairs ahead of him. The two of them walked outside and talked at the curb
while Diane walked up and found the bedroom. She removed the blazer and her
pants, shoes, panties, and stockings. There were no curtains on the window and
she looked out. They were still talking. She sat down beside the door and
waited.

The salesman walked into the room and looked at her. "He's gone. I guess you
can go too." She looked at him. He wasn't going to fuck her. She somehow felt
more totally humiliated by the fact that this man was not a paying customer.
"Hope you like the place," he said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
He dropped a business card on the floor beside her, then turned and walked
away. She leaned forward and cried for a long time before she got dressed and
left.


Chapter 17


It was Tuesday morning. Diane lay in bed staring at the ceiling. James had
left for work early and her daughter just pulled out of the driveway on her way
to school. She looked at the yellowing paint. Just three weeks ago, she might
have been thinking about repainting, about decorating this room or some other.
Now, her thoughts kept racing back to the depraved state of her life. At the
beck and call of some online thug who was sending her out to fuck for money.
Blackmailing her with her own words from the chat rooms and, now, probably
photographs and tapes of her sessions with these strangers.

There was no way out. The one man she thought might help her turned out to be
simply another pimp. He might have been one of the blackmailers or just a
hired hand. Who knew and what did it matter? Her body was theirs and there
was no end in sight.

Her body itself felt better than it had in years. Their intense program at the
gym - an hour minimum a day, 7 days a week, longer sometimes - was working.
Her body looked great, she was firm and toned everywhere. When she wore the
clothes they assigned to her, she looked good, sexy, sharp. 

Diane rolled over and buried her head in the pillow - it was sick for her to
have any positive thoughts about this whole ordeal! They were raping her, and
doing it by remote control, with other men's bodies. These men thought they
were buying a whore, what would they think if they knew the whole story? They
probably wouldn't care, she thought.

She thought about the old women in the sauna. They acted like this was totally
normal. Like they'd seen it a hundred times before. Then, the real estate
deal. They'd shown her off to the agent, had her exhibit herself standing on
her ties, arms above her head, nipples exposed, then didn't even offer her to
him. That made her feel more used than many of the other sex acts she'd had to
perform.

When she finally got out of bed and checked the email, it said "take a day off,
check for mail at 8 tomorrow morning sharp." She went to the kitchen and had a
light breakfast, then dressed and went to the gym.

The atmosphere there was lighter somehow. Liz didn't talk to her much, the
workout was routine, none of the men seemed to give her any special attention.
She felt worse, it made her feel like just another hooker in the brothel, not
even worth the time to talk to if there wasn't anything planned for the day.

That afternoon, she spent some of the hooking money and treated herself to a
movie. It was a thriller and she let herself relax into it. What could they do
in the movie that would possibly terrify her? she wondered.

Back at home, she went through her IN box again. There were the usual requests
from strangers for chats or realtime meetings. She didn't even bother checking
what SumwonElz might have put in her profile, she just deleted the messages.

There was an email with the Subject line: Have you had enough of him? She
opened it and read it with curiousity.

"Diane, we're seeing what we can do. What does he have on you?" It was from
someone called Her2U.

She read it several times and wondered what it was about. There was no online
profile for this person. Diane sent a reply, but it was immediately rejected
with "No Such UserID". The same as she'd experienced with SumwonElz. Another
hacker playing games with her?

She deleted the message. 

The rest of the day was her old routine - clean the house, vacuum, do some
reading. She hardly understood the words, She wanted some semblance of
normalcy back in her life.

+ + +

Wednesday, 7:45 a.m. James was just finishing dressing and her daughter was
sitting at the breakfast table reading the newspaper. 

"Mom, Linda's mom said she saw you at the gym the other day. What's up with
that?"

Diane turned and looked at her daughter. She'd considered this and had her
story ready.

"I've been going for a few weeks now, just something to take up my time..."

"She says you work your ass off. Ooops, sorry, mom. I meant that as a
compliment."

Diane looked at James. He wasn't reacting at all. 

"Well, I figured if I was going to go, I might as well really work at it..."

She turned to the stove and stirred some eggs in the pan. It was 7:50, she
needed to get to the computer by 8:00. "Are you two ready?"

"Well, I'm set," James said, swallowing a cup of coffee and picking up his
keys. "Now, you're home here at five, right, so we can get out to get that
shopping done?" he asked.

"I'll be here at five," she answered, praying that there was not going to be
any reason not to be home by five.

"Wonderful." He pulled on his jacket and kissed her on the cheek. "Goodbye."

As James walked out the door, Diane turned to her daughter. "So, does Linda's
mom go to the gym often?" She was terrified they would run into each other and
start talking.

"Oh no, she saw you through the window. She doesn't work out at all. If you
think YOU need it, you should see her!"

Diane was relieved. "Well, you get on your way, I'm going to go up and wash my
hair."

"OK. Bye mom."

Diane went upstairs and listened for her daughter to leave. It was 8:02 when
she signed on and looked for mail.

"Ding!"

- SumwonElz:  One minute late.
- SubDiane:   My clock says 8:00. Sorry.
- SumwonElz:  All right. I am going to give you an address. 
- SumwonElz:  I want to see you there at 8:30 sharp.
- SumwonElz:  Dress in whatever you like.
- SumwonElz:  Do NOT be late.
- SubDiane:   How long will we be there?
"Member is no longer logged on"

She laughed. She knew she might as well get used to not having questions
answered. She looked in her email and found the note with the address. It was
about a twenty minute ride, she wouldn't have time to shower. 

He'd said "dress in whatever you like" and she took advantage of it. Grey
sweat pants and top, bra and panties underneath, white socks and running shoes.
 Whoever saw her was not going to get turned on. Maybe that would buy her some
time. For what? she wondered with a feeling of despondency.

+ + +

Diane stood on the front porch knocking at the door. It had been several
minutes already and no one had answered. She looked around. There were two
cars in the driveway and a neighbor standing on her porch watching Diane with a
curious look.

She knocked again and the door opened. There was a woman inside dressed in a
gray office suit. She invited Diane in and led her into the basement. The
lights were out and the windows were covered. There was enough dim light from
two candles that they could make their way through the room but not enough for
her to see if there was anyone else in it.

With no hesitation, the woman pulled Diane's sweat pants down around her
ankles, held each leg 
for her to raise her foot and step out. Then, she stood up and pulled the
sweatshirt over Diane's head. She spun Diane around, unclasped the bra, spun
her again and pulled the bra off. Then, she slid the panties down to the floor
and Diane was naked.

"They're doing nice work with you at the gym. You were kind of a pig when I
first saw you."

Diane didn't flinch. Fuck her.

"Here we go now," the woman said. She raised Diane's left arm and pulled a
leather cuff down from somewhere above. She secured it around Diane's wrist,
then did the same with her right one. With another quick motion, she'd pulled
a rope down from a pulley and ran the end through a metal loop on the left
cuff. Then, she pulled the other end of the rope and Diane's arm was raised to
the ceiling beam. The woman did the same with Diane's right wrist.

"Spread your legs for me."

Diane complied, nervous and anxious about what the woman might do next.

"Keep them spread wide and I won't have to tie them." The woman turned her
back and walked away. Diane heard her rummaging around somewhere in the room.
Then, she returned with a leather hood. She pulled it over Diane's head,
adjusted the pads that covered her eyes and the small plug that fit into her
mouth. There was a sound as zippers were opened and the flaps that covered her
ears were removed. Something that felt like cotton was stuffed into each ear.

The woman walked away and Diane was left in the darkness for several minutes.
Then, she felt a hand between her legs, followed by four metal balls being
inserted into her cunt. Four more were inserted into her ass. A device was
pressed against her belly and she felt belts being pulled around behind her.
They were strapping something in place. When they slid it down several inches,
she suspected it was a vibrator. What else would they put there?

"Diane, we wanted to tell you a little bit about what's going on," she heard a
voice say. The cotton muffled the voice and she couldn't tell if it was a
woman or a man. 

"We feel it's time for you to know a bit more about what we are doing. You
have probably come to the conclusion that we are interested in selling your
body for money. You certainly have enough evidence for that conclusion. 
However, you would be wrong."

She listened hard, still trying to determine the sex of the speaker.

"It is true that it has been convenient to use you this way. We have
commitments that must be met and you've served admirably. That is not why we
have come for you. Our goal is much more plain and simple than that. We
followed your descent into cybersex, found your name and address, looked you
over, and decided that we wanted you as a sex slave. It's that simple. 
Nothing more, nothing less. 

"What we are going to have from you is your complete and utter obedience to our
every whim. You may have noticed that humiliation has figured into several of
your encounters. That is part of what we do. Part of what we enjoy. It might
or might not be part of your training, who cares? We just like it, so we are
going to do it.

"We are going to destroy you, then rebuild you as our sex toy. You are free to
maintain your home life if you like, as long as it doesn't interfere with our
wants.

"We will have your total obedience. Let me give you an example of where we're
going with you: our goal, my dear -- and it's a "when" not an "if" -- is to
get you to the point where I can let you loose with a bunch of testosterone
soaked, sex-starved college boys who've been drinking and watching the most
disgusting porno videos you can imagine, I can let you go with them in a
barnyard surrounded by animals, with a toolshed filled with B/D gear, and make
it so that you will eagerly comply with anything they can come up with.

"One new rule for you to start obeying, beginning tomorrow morning. You are
NEVER to turn down a direct request for sex by a man or woman. It might be
someone I've sent, it might not. You will never know and it's much safer for
you this way.

"Also, no panties from now on unless specifically requested.

"You will receive other instructions as we move forward.

"Have I made myself clear?"

Diane was shaking her head slowly side to side and muttering "no, no, no"
inside the hood.

"I asked you a question and I expect an answer."

She felt the hot tears bathing her face inside the mask and just shook her head
slowly.

There was a burst of pain across her back and she screamed inside the hood.
The second hit came and she realized someone was whipping her. She put her
feet together and stood up, moving her body to try and avoid the next blow.

"I told you about your feet, didn't I?" she head a voice, the woman's. "Spread
them."

Diane started to move her feet and she felt the whip across her back again.
She spread her legs wide.

"Now, will you answer my question? Did I make myself clear?"

She nodded, shaking her head hard and begging through the gag for them to stop
hitting her. She was terrified James would see the marks and everything would
be revealed.

"Good. That's better. Here, I'll give you the whip as long as you're good."
She felt the leather whip being coiled around her neck and left to hang, the
handle and lash passing across her breasts.

"You're going to spend some time here listening to tapes of yourself being
fucked by some of your customers. The vibrator might help you enjoy them a
little more than you normally might."

The device that had been strapped to her was indeed a vibrator and they turned
it on. She felt the gentle buzz against her clit. She tightened her muscles
and felt the balls moving around inside her. There might have been a slight
"click" but she couldn't tell for certain.

Someone removed the cotton and put headphones over her ears. She heard some
heavy breathing, then talking, moaning, and creaking of springs. She could
picture it, this was the third fuck, she could even feel the man's weight on
her as she listened to the moaning and groaning sounds the two of them were
making. It was turning her on, she couldn't escape the combination of feelings
in her head and in her body. She felt an orgasm coming. It broke over her, but
the sounds didn't slow down or stop, the vibrator didn't pause. It was an
annoying feeling between her legs now but after several minutes, it became
pleasure again. She tried to put it out of her mind but couldn't. It came
over her again, she felt her insides churning and the balls moving around,
clattering against each other and against the walls of her vagina and ass. The
moaning was getting more intense, the couple on the tape were about to cum
again. When they did, she did.

She eventually lost all sense of time, rocking her hips, pressing her legs
together, spreading them apart, humping the air and shaking her breasts from
side to side hoping for some contact. She felt a river of drool running from
the gag down her cheek and onto her chest, between her breasts, over her belly.
 Occasionally, she'd feel a hand or some other object touch some part of her
body. It might be in the small of her back, one of the lips of her cunt, or a
hand roughly squeezing a breast. She'd move her body toward it as much as she
could, craving the touch of a second person. 

She felt like she'd pass out when her breathing got faster and faster. She
couldn't breath well through the hood, there were only small mesh holes for air
- it was always hot and moist.

Once, through a thick haze of lust, she noticed a feeling far off, then
realized that someone had been spanking her ass with a ruler for several
minutes. She loved the burning stripe right across the middle of both cheeks.
She offered her ass as much as she could, churned her thighs and brought
herself to another wild explosion of an orgasm. 

It went on like this for several hours, with only pauses to change the tape or
the batteries in the vibrator. When she heard the tape stop and felt the
vibrator stop buzzing, her entire body went limp. She let her weight hang from
the wrists, though it hurt her shoulders and neck, she found her legs couldn't
bear the weight.

Someone untied her and carried her up the stairs. She tried but couldn't move
her arms or legs.
She felt them slipping her sweats onto her, then her shoes. Finally, someone
removed the hood. Her hair was matted and her face was covered with her own
saliva and sweat.

"Do not EVER, EVER forget who is in charge of your life," the woman said. 
Then, she leaned over and kissed Diane on the lips. "Go home and get cleaned
up."



				Chapter 18



Diane cried for quite a while in the shower that afternoon. She'd made it home
by four, hoped she had enough time to wash up and dress before James showed up
for their shopping trip. She was terrified that the whipping had left marks
and that he would see them.

When she got out of the shower, she forced herself to loook at her back in the
mirror. Sure enough, there were marks. They looked like they might go away in
a couple of days but they would be impossible to explain.

She considered letting him see them, revealing everything, begging for help and
forgiveness. But she didn't trust his response. It all started with her
cybersex, she recalled, and he would remind her of that. Hold it over her
head. Maybe divorce her, throw her out, ruin her.

They went shopping that night, bought more materials for the work they were
doing on the basement, then office supplies for a pamphlet he was
self-publishing on the evils of the internet. He had her read it in the car.
It outlined how was the tool of the devil and was robbing children of their
innocence, couples of their privacy, and unpopular ideas of their audience.
Even though, he argued, everyone was granted a forum for expressing opinions,
the glut of information would cause the right opinions - and he outlined
several of his favorite websites as examples - would be lost in the data
explosion.

She tensed as she read three paragraphs outlining couples whose marriages had
been ruined when the husband or wife ran off with a lover met in cyberspace.
It even talked about sex in chat rooms and the possibility of blackmail
resulting from those encounters. 

Did he know? Was he involved? She looked at James with a fresh curiousity.
Was there any chance, any chance at all, that he was INVOLVED in the entire
thing? Some way of sneaking excitement into their sex life?

She rejected the thought but it nagged at the back of her head for the rest of
the night.

+ + +

Diane was changing into her exercise sweats when two huge men walked into the
ladies dressing room. They ordered two of the other women who were there out,
Diane was to stay. She recognized them, she'd seen them in the gym pretty
consistently since she'd joined. They were six foot plus, two-hundred pound
masses of buffed up bodybuilder. 

"Get out of those," one of them ordered her.

"Excuse me?" she said, hoping it might have some effect.

They looked at each other and laughed. "Do you want to do it or do you want us
to do it?"

She pulled the sweats off and stood in her bra and panties.

"Off."

She looked toward the door, then toward the stalls, hoping no one would walk
in. She pulled off her bra and panties.

"Good. Now, pull on this." He handed her a jet black Spandex body stocking.
It looked like a doll's outfit there in his hand. She couldn't believe the
fabric would stretch enough to cover her entire body. Tentatively, she slid
her left foot into the stocking. As she pulled it on, it fit snugly all the
way to her thigh. She pulled on the right leg, then tugged the suit over her
hips. She noticed that the material had some 'give' and looked down. The
crotch was cut out and her cunt was exposed. The fabric around the edges of
the cut were reinforced. At least it wouldn't unravel. At its widest, the
opening was only about an inch, but that was enough for the hairs and part of
her lips to show through. She looked at them. Their faces revealed nothing.

The snug fabric tugged between her legs as she pulled it up over her breasts,
then slid her arms into the sleeves. There was material that came down over
her hands, a strap that ran across the web between her thumb and index finger.
 Her fingers and thumbs were exposed. The top was a small scoop just below the
base of her neck.

"I can't go out like this!" she protested.

One of them handed her a small piece of material. She recognized it - it was a
bright red thong, like the white one they'd given her when this all began. She
stepped into it and pulled it up between her legs. 

"That covers you, doesn't it?" 

In her mind, it might as well have been a bandaid. If she moved too much
either way, it might slip, she would be exposed to anyone's view.

"Get your sneakers on and let's go."

She was gripped by panic. Her mind raced.  How could she avoid this? The
voice yesterday had mentioned humiliation - they weren't kidding. 

"Listen, listen, I have an idea..." Diane pulled the thong off and threw it
across the room. She walked to the first man and wrapped her arms around him.
"Fuck me. Take me here, come on, I'll do anything you ask. I've been fucking
like mad the last few weeks and I really need some cock. Please, let's just
stay here and fuck..." She was rubbing against him, took his hand and slid it
down her belly to the opening in the body suit.

The two men looked at each other and grinned. "Well, hey, who'll know?"

The other man turned to Diane. "OK, but you need to get on your knees and take
it like a dog. Like a hot bitch in heat. That's what you are, isn't it?"

She turned red but saw she could avoid going out into the gym. "Will you lock
the door?"

"Hell, no." 

"Hey, it could be our jobs..."

"You're right. Come on, let's take her back into the laundry room."

Diane pulled the thong back into place and the three of them walked through the
gym and into the laundry. The took turns at her, fucking her twice each. One
of them picked the thong up off of the ground.

"Have a nice day," he said, walking out the door, thong in hand.

She looked around, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her waist. She walked
back through the gym to the women's locker room, got dressed, and headed out to
her car in the parking lot. She felt like she'd won some slight kind of
victory.

+ + +

There was a man leaning against the driver's door of Diane's minivan. She was
several cars away when she saw him. He looked directly at her and didn't say
anything until she was standing near the front of her own car.

"Hello, Diane. I could use a ride. We're both going to the same place, after
all." He gave he a wide smile and motioed for her to open the door. She took
out her key and unlocked the driver's door. The stranger walked around to the
other door, opened it and climbed in.

"Where are we going?" she asked. Her hands were tense on the steering wheel
and she was staring straight ahead. 

"Start the car."

Diane reached for the key and turned it. The engine turned and caught quickly.

"Go on, get out into traffic."

She backed out of the parking space and pulled out of the lot and onto the main
road. He gave her instructions as they drove. She started to recognize some
of the streets and thought she knew where they were going. 

When he had her pull into the driveway, she was certain. It was the same house
she'd been taken instructed to drive to the other day.

"Pull into the drive and park in the back." When she'd parked, he opened his
door and walked around. He opened her door, then led her in through the back
door of the house. They walked down the stairs to the basement again.

The windows were still covered but there was a lamp. Diane looked around the
room. There were a variety of devices hanging from hooks on the walls -
devices made of wood, metal, leather, chains and other materials she didn't
recognize. 

There were also two other people there. She recognized the woman from her last
visit. And there was another man, dressed in blue and leaning against the
wall.

"Strip," he told her.

When she was naked, the woman approached her again and restrained her in the
same position as last time, using the ropes and cuffs from the ceiling to
secure her. This time, the woman also buckled her into a spreader bar - a four
foot wide metal pipe with soft leather cuffs at each end. They fitted he with
the vibrator and headphones again. This time, they didn't put the hood over
her head. She could see them and watched them watch her.

The routine was the same as last time. They made her listen to audiotapes of
herself being used by a variety of her "customers" while the vibrator buzzed
gently between her legs.

She tried to hold off the first orgasm but couldn't. From then on, she knew it
was hopeless. She surrendered to it, even though she could see them watching
her. Sometimes they would comment on how she looked. Several times, one or
another of them would approach and touch her. Licking a nipple. Fingering her
cunt. Slapping her bottom.

She came over and over, some of them close together, sometimes she was able to
think about other things and resist. But, eventually, she'd come back to the
feeling. They knew it and she knew that they knew.

Finally, they let her down. It was the same as last time, she collapsed to the
floor. Her legs wouldn't support her. The woman threw her clothes on the
floor in front of her.

"You have ten minutes to be out of the house. Take the weekend off, but look
for mail on Sunday night. Monday is going to be a busy day for you."



				Chapter 19



On Sunday night, Diane waited until everyone was asleep before she signed on 
to check her mail. There were dozens of emails stacked up again. The one 
from SumwonElz said she would be at the Palmer House again at noon. He gave 
a room number and instructions on what to wear.

+ + +

Her2U watched as SumwonElz hacked into the system again. She traced his hack 
and he was calling from the same place again. He was getting lazy. Not 
sloppy, just lazy. 

She watched as he received the notice that SubDiane had read her email. He 
didn't reply. She was relieved about that.

+ + +

Diane immediately recognized the two muscle men when the dressing room. She 
must have had a panicked look because one of them raised a hand. 

"We're not here for anything like last time. This is different. In fact, we 
want to do something nice for you."

She tensed as they both approached. One held his arms behind her back while 
the other started kissing her hard and rubbing his hands over her body. She 
fought for a few minutes, but finally gave up and relaxed into it. She felt 
herself getting turned on. He was handsome, built like a body builder, and 
rough and firm. He moved his hands over her back, her hips, her thighs. She 
parted her legs slightly, getting more turned on every minute. He started 
rubbing two of his fingers between her legs. She spread her knees and kissed 
him harder. 

After several minutes, she felt the orgasm build. She closed her eyes and 
started to let go. She moaned loudly and pressed herself against his hand. 
When she finally came, the man behind her clamped his hand over her mouth.

When her trembling stopped, they both let go and walked away. 

"OK, now get out there and do your workout."

She looked down at her suit. The crotch was soaked, a three or four inch 
circle that spread down to her upper thighs and up nearly to her belly.

"I...I can't go out there like this..."

"We let you say no last week, this week it isn't your turn. You have two 
minutes."

Diane looked around in panic. There was no time to change and no way her 
clothes would dry in just two minutes. She ran into the bathroom and pulled 
some hand towels out of the dispenser. She pushed it between her legs, 
trying to soak up the dampness. She pulled another handful, and another. 
The clock was ticking and she knew they'd come back.

She looked in the mirror, the spot wasn't so prominent. It was as good as it 
was going to get.

Diane walked out into the gym. The two were standing, waiting. One was 
looking at his watch. He nodded.

She went directly to the step master, hoped that she could work up a sweat 
quickly enough that the spot wouldn't be obvious. No one stared at her, she 
thought it had probably worked.

+ + +

At the hotel again, she watched for her opportunity to get past the 
concierge. As she'd expected, he eventually had to leave his post. This 
time, it was to help some customer with driving instructions. She got to 
the elevator and went to room 418. 

"Okay, get naked then put on this hood." The man handed her a hood that 
covered her head but left her mouth exposed. There was a metal ring that 
fitted inside, behind her teeth, held in place by small snaps in the hood. 
She put it on and twisted it until it fit into place.

"On your hands and knees now. Ass high in the air. I want to see you crawl 
around the room a few times..."

Diane cried as she dropped to her knees. She raised her ass high, put her 
head to the carpet. Slowly, she crawled around the room. She heard him 
muttering his approval as she crept around.

"Nice ass. Nice little ass. I like the tight little hole. Have you taken 
many cocks in that little hole?"

He kept up a litany of filth as she crawled around the room. She ignored 
most of it. It was a trifle after what she'd been through.

"OK, that's it. I'm nice and hard now. Come on over here and let's see how 
your mouth feels around my cock."

She came close and he knelt in front of her. He grabbed her head and started 
to fuck her mouth. He pushed deep and fucked quickly. She had a hard time 
catching her breath between the stabs he was making. Finally, he pushed deep 
and held it in hard, shooting his sperm down into her throat.

"Nice, nice tight little throat..." he moaned as he unloaded into her. He 
pulled back and let a trickle of cum drip from her lower lip, down onto her 
chin.

"The money's by the door," he said. 

Diane unsnapped the hood and massaged her jaw, trying to get the feeling 
back. He handed Diane her clothes.

"Head down the hall to room 420."

She dressed and left the room. 420 was the next room down the hall. She 
knocked on the door and waited.

When the door opened, she saw three men inside.

"Whoa! Not bad!"

"Well, hey, what did he promise? Right?"

They invited her into the room, asked her if she wanted a drink.

"No, thanks."

"Hey, we've got a surprise for you."

She looked at them. They were young, early 20's probably. They were dressed 
nicely, probably college kids, she thought. 

"You're SubDiane, right?" one of them asked.

She felt a cold fist in her stomach. What did they know?"

"Who told you that?"

"That's why you're here, right? Playing games with your master?"

She wondered how much they knew. She decided she wouldn't try anything 
dangerous.

"Yes, that's what he tells me."

"Good. Because, we all have the same kind of thing in mind. You might not 
remember, a chat with MrMaster?"

She had no idea what he was talking about. There were so many chats during 
that time, way back when in a past life.

"MrMaster. Remember? And two of my friends came in? You swore you'd do it 
for us in real life, if you could? Well, here's your chance!"

"What? What?" she screamed. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Oh Diane, don't play games. Let's get this on. Listen, you can call us 
Tom, Dick and Harry, OK? We like to hear you talk. You were so good online
... Hope you're half that good on your back."

Tom reached out for her and pulled her skirt up. "Yum yum!" he said. "Let's 
see you naked."

Diane stripped, watching them. She wondered what they had in mind, hoped she 
could get it over with quickly. While she was undressing, Harry went into 
the bathroom. He returned with two beer bottles.

"Open this for me," he said, handing her a cold, full bottle.

She started to twist the cap. 

"No, no. Hold it between your titties and unscrew it with your teeth. Don't 
you remember the games we played?"

She panicked. What else had she done? She remembered some times but knew 
that it couldn't be them. It couldn't...

"It couldn't..." she murmered out loud, starting to cry. She took the cold 
bottle and pressed it between her breasts. 

"Could you at least put a washrag over it so I don't chip a tooth?" she 
asked. 

Harry smiled. "Sure."

She leaned down and wrapped her mouth around the cap. With a quick twist, 
it popped off. She was relieved.

"Oh, honey, what's wrong?" Dick asked, wiping a tear from her cheek. "You 
were so HOT on the chat? Are you backing out on us now?"

She felt one of them behind her, rubbing his cock between her legs. She 
squatted slightly, opening her lips for him to enter. He slid into her and 
started pumping. Tom started kissing her, pinched her nipples in his 
fingers. He pulled hard, stretching her breasts and nipples and shaking them 
slightly up and down.

"Remember you said you loved this? You asked for this so many times!"

Why was he doing it? Did he really think that was what she wanted?

Harry unloaded his cum into her cunt, then pulled out and walked away. Tom 
let go of her breasts and sat down on the edge of the bed. He reached under 
the pillow and pulled out an empty catsup bottle.

"Do the bottle thing," he said, handing it to her.

Diane started crying now, she remembered who they were. They'd spend nearly 
four hours on the chat, using her in a dozen different ways. And the 'bottle 
thing' was one of their favorite. She begged them to let her go, to just 
remember the chat. They laughed. "Not with all the money we paid!"

Diane reached for the empty bottle. Moving slowly, she set it on the floor 
and squatted over it, still hoping they might be satisfied with seeing her 
like this.

"Enough?" she asked.

"Do it."

She covered her face and squatted lower. She felt the opening of the bottle 
meet her cunt. She slid slowly down, feeling it slide into her. She took 
most of the bottle into herself. The base was about two and a half inches 
around and flared. She felt her cunt close slightly. She was past the 
flare.

All three of them applauded. She covered her face and cried.

"Walk around the room a few times!"

"Yeah! Let's see!"

She stood up, feeling the thickness between her legs. She couldn't bring 
her thighs together and walked around the room in a way she knew must have 
looked completely ridiculous. She lowered her hands, felt the water on her 
cheeks, her eyes red and hot.

"Well, Tommy?"

"Yeah, you up for it?"

Tom stood up. "You remember this, Diane? Remember how I fucked you up the 
ass while you were like this?"

"Oh, God, no please... please..."

"Get over here and stand in front of me..."

Tom was rubbing his cock, spitting on it to get it wet.

Diane walked to him, turned her back toward him, and bent slightly over.

"Guys, she wants it!" he laughed.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Tom put the head of his cock at 
her small hole. He started to push. She couldn't stretch, everything was 
full down there. He tried pushing again, but couldn't get the head past the 
opening.

"Not working, guys. See, I told you!" He sat back on the bed. "Go on, 
Diane, take that thing out of you."

She squatted down and reached between her legs. She took a firm hold of the 
bottom of the bottle and, squeezing her muscles inside, pushed it out of her. 
Tom told her to get back on her knees. She was much easier this time.



				Chapter 20



"Be at the video store at 1 pm tomorrow."

It was a one line email, from SumwonElz as usual. He'd given her the address 
of a video store about twenty minutes from her home. It was not an adult 
bookstore, but one she recognized from its ads as part of a national chain. 
She shook her head - what were they up to?

There was another email from Her2U, asking again "what's he got on you?" 
This time, it also asked "how long has this been going on?"

She clicked "reply", and wrote back that she wanted to know more about the 
writer before she responded. Then, she turned off the PC and headed to the 
gym.

+ + +

Diane was sipping from a bottle of cold water as she walked from the gym to 
her car. She set her gym bag on the hood and reached in her purse for her 
keys. 

A tall woman dressed in a grey suit approached. She was carrying a small 
envelope. 

"Here," she said, handing the envelope to Diane. "Good luck." The woman 
walked away quickly and disappeared around a corner of the building.

Diane tore the envelope open and read: "I destroyed the book. Let Her2U 
know if you think there are videotapes."

She jumped into her car and started the engine. She raced in the direction 
the woman had taken, but she was nowhere to be seen. The envelope and note 
sat on the seat beside her as she drove off to the video store.

Did she dare hope? Was there some mysterious stranger waiting in the wings 
to put her life back together again?

She navigated the traffic in a daze. It was too much to hope for. It was 
probably some kind of trick, a trap by the blackmailers to test whether she'd 
rebel when she had a chance. She wasn't sure what to do.

In a funk of confusion and frustration, Diane parked and then walked across 
the parking lot to the entrance of the bookstore. There were over a dozen 
cars in the parking lot and a variety of trucks and minivans. She didn't 
stick out at all. 

She walked in and looked around, wondering who she was supposed to meet. 
After wandering through the aisles for a few minutes, she saw a man walking 
her way. He looked familiar but she wasn't certain. He was dressed in a 
sportscoat and tie, short hair slicked back. 

"Hello Diane. Give me your purse."

Diane handed her purse over, looked up and down the aisle. No one was 
watching, no one had noticed. 

The man shoved a small bag into her purse. "Just a reminder, we have 
complete control here, don't get any ideas."

She gave him a puzzled look and nodded. In another setting, his comment 
would have been comical, melodramatic. 

"Right," she said. He handed her purse back, walked straight to the door, 
and left the store.

Diane looked around. Was that it? She waited a few minutes, then walked 
past the cash registers and toward the door.

The store alarm started beeping when she walked between the detectors. She 
realized immediately that he must have put a videotape into her purse. She 
looked around, frightened, and took the package out. Sure enough, it felt 
like two videotapes stuffed into the brown paper.

"What's that?" someone asked. She turned around and saw the store manager. 

"I...I...someone handed this to me, I didn't know what it was, I..."

He raised his hand. "Right, I know. It was an accident."

"No, it wasn't! It was..."

"A frame up. Someone is framing you, that's it?"

She stopped talking. He wasn't listening. Why should he? She was caught 
redhanded.

The package crinkled as he pulled the paper back off of the videotapes. 

"The Story of O and...what's this one? Girlfriends in Bondage?" He held the 
two tapes side by side and stood looking at photos on the cover. 
"Interesting stuff..."

She watched his face, wondering what he was thinking. Wondering if he was 
part of the scheme. Or a customer? There were too many possibilities and 
she was at their mercy.

"I think you'd better come into my office." He took her by the hand and led 
her across the store. As they walked down the center aisle, she saw several 
people look at her, at the videotapes, then at her again. She wished she 
could turn invisible.

The office was located down a small hallway around the back of the store. 
There was a large two-way mirror through which the manager could watch the 
store. He set her down in a chair beside his desk.

He laid the tapes down on his desk and tapped them with a fingertip.

"So, what are we going to do here?"

"I wasn't involved. This isn't what you think..."

"I don't think it's in your best interest to keep trying that story. Tell me 
another one. I'm not insulted or embarassed by your choice in stolen goods, 
if that's what you're worried about..."

"That isn't it at all!"

"I guess I have to call the police."

"No, you don't have to call the police.  Just let me go home."

"Home? To your girlfriend?"

"Huh?"

"No? Not that type are you? Have a husband at home you're sharing these 
with?"

She panicked. What if he WAS in on this?

"No, not him, not him at all..."

"You're not embarassed that I saw what you had in your purse?"

"Well, no."

He smiled. "So you don't mind if I know about your tastes?"

She felt trapped. "I didn't say that."

"You said as much. Did you WANT to be caught, is that it?" He leaned 
forward slightly. "Is there some fantasy I can help you fulfil?"

Diane froze, watched him, hoped he'd give some sign she could use to tell if 
he was part of the conspiracy.

"No, that isn't it..."

"Do you imagine yourself tied up like that? Do you have a girlfriend you 
want to talk to about it?" She could see the lust in his eyes as he spoke. 
"Or do you like the idea of giving yourself over to a group of men? Being 
owned by them?"

"You're one of them, aren't you??!" she shouted.

"One of who?" he asked. His eyes held hers, neither of them flinched.

TAP!

They both turned their heads. The man who'd planted the tapes was standing 
on the other side of the mirror, peering into it.

"Oh, I see..." the manager said. The man outside nodded and the manager 
smiled a wide grin. He looked at Diane. "Well, I don't think there's 
anything to worry about here."

Without taking his eyes from her, he slid the tapes to a corner of the desk, 
then picked up Diane's purse. 

"Put that by the door," he said.

She accepted it and put it behind her chair, just beside the door.

"Now, come on over here and let's show your appreciation that I'm not calling 
the police." He slid his chair back and unbuckled his pants. 

Diane just sat in her chair, staring at him. 

"Did you misunderstand something? I said come over here. Now!"

The man outside stood there not moving. She didn't know if he could see in 
or not, but she knew he'd arranged the whole thing. She stood up and looked 
at the store manager. He'd dropped his pants to the floor and was leaning 
back, tugging at his shorts.

"Let's go. I have to get back out there on the floor soon."

She stepped between him and the desk, then knelt down between his legs. He 
pulled his shorts down around his thighs and put his hand on her head.

"Come on and taste, honey..."

Diane put her lips around the head of his cock and started sucking, licking 
the shaft and massaging his balls with her fingers. It didn't take long for 
him to cum.

"OK, clean up and get out of here," he said, then stood up. He stopped at the 
door, reached into his pocket, and took out a twenty dollar bill. He dropped 
it on the floor beside her purse then walked out the door.

Diane knelt on the floor and cried for several minutes, then stood up, 
smoothed out her skirt, and reached for her purse. She left his money where 
it was.

+ + +

There was nothing interesting in the mail, nothing interesting on television, 
nothing on her "to do" list, nothing to distract her. She engaged in some 
chatter with her husband and daughter, but her home life was beginning to 
slip away from her. She tried to stay away from the computer the rest of 
that day but couldn't. At eleven, she went and checked her email.

There were instructions from SumwonElz telling her to be at the Motel 6 at 1 
p.m. tomorrow.

"Ding!"

- Her2U:    Hi.
- SubDiane:   Hi
- Her2U:    Hang in there. Are you OK?
- SubDiane:   No, I'm not OK. I'm not fucking OK at all!
- Her2U:    I'm sorry I asked that way. Has he hurt you?
- SubDiane:   Who are you?
- Her2U:    I can't tell you that.
- SubDiane:   Why are you talking to me?
- Her2U:    Just answer the questions. And quickly.
- SubDiane:   Why?
- Her2U:    Just do it. We might be monitored.
- Her2U:    Has he taken any videotape of you?
- SubDiane:   Videotape?
- Her2U:    He had audiotapes. Does he have videotapes?

Diane thought. She wasn't certain what he had, she'd been blindfolded in 
some of their encounters.

- SubDiane:   I don't think so. I don't know.
- Her2U:    All right, we'll have to do our best.
- Her2U:    Hang in there, Diane.
- Her2U:    Just a few more days.
- SubDiane:   Who are you?
- "Member is no longer logged on"

Her fingers were trembling when she turned off the PC. Dare she hope? If 
this was part of the blackmail plan, it was pretty elaborate. Why do it? 
But if it really was a savior, why all the secrecy? 




				Chapter 21



The parking lot of the Motel 6 was beginning to look familiar, Diane 
reflected. The phone booth on one corner, the dumpster at the far end, the 
potted plants around the door of the lobby.

She searched the parking lot as she walked along the second story walkway, 
looking for the assigned room. No one was pulling in. They were either there 
already or coming soon.

At room 226, she stopped and knocked. 

A woman answered. She waved Diane in and told her to get naked and sit on 
the bed. Diane started removing her clothes. The woman sat at the desk near 
the open window and started typing on a laptop computer.

"I have a chat going. I want you to finish it for me. Four very horny young 
men. All of them think I'm naked in a motel room at Motel 6 just outside 
Chicago."

She was typing away as she talked. 

"They've just tied me to a bed, face down, and are taking turns feeling me 
up and poking their fingers into my cunt."

Diane folded her clothes and put them on the dresser. She looked out the 
window. They were on the second floor, it wasn't likely anyone would look 
in and see her.

"They're going to take turns with me, they're being silly, they want me face 
down for the first one, face up for the second, etc."

Diane stepped closer.

"Boys!" the woman giggled.

"They're going to whip me with a belt, then turn me over and do my titties, 
then tie me face down again and... oh my!" The woman gave a fake cry of 
amazement, then typed more words on the screen. "What ARE they sticking up 
my ass?"

"Why am I here?" Diane asked with fear in her voice.

The woman looked up at her. "Well, I'm going to invite them over. When they 
get here, you're going to be here. I have other things to do with my time."

Diane leaned forward, grabbed the edge of the desk for support. "No, you are 
not! That's crazy!"

The woman reached up with her hand and grabbed Diane's right nipple. She 
pulled it hard and brought Diane's face directly in front of her. "You are 
going to, and you are going to do it well. Do you understand?"

Tears were welling in her eyes, the pain was intense. The woman was using 
her fingernails and pinching tight. Then, she lifted her other hand and did 
the same to Diane's other nipple. "I told them you like this..."

Diane felt her body go to its knees as the woman twisted slightly, then 
pulled tighter. 

"Please...oh shit, please!"

The woman let go and returned to her typing. "I don't want the boys to 
think I've forgotten them."

Diane put her head down on the carpet, lay on the floor and cried while the 
woman continued the chat with her four accomplices.

"OK, that's that!" the woman annoucned after a few more minutes. "They have 
the address and they're on their way."

She leaned over and lifted Diane's head by the chin.

"A lot of your future is riding on how this afternoon goes, you know. Be nice 
to them, they're regulars." She dropped Diane's head and stood up. Diane 
watched her walk across the room and leave out the front door.

The room was empty and quiet. It was peaceful, almost like a vacation from 
her life. She wanted to stay there on the floor, just become part of the 
room, not have to face the rest of the day, or the rest of her life. 

There was a knock on the door and Diane realized she must have fallen asleep. 
The knocking continued until she stood up and went to the door. Her hand 
hesitated for a minute, then she opened it.

A woman pushed a half-full shopping bag into Diane's arms and turned and 
quickly walked away.

"Wait a minute!" Diane yelled, but the woman didn't stop.

She went back into the room and sat down on the bed. Reaching Inside the 
bag, she pulled out a stack of photographs. They were pictures of her in a 
variety of sexual positions. Some were naked, some were with men, some were 
pictures of herself in the basement during the audio tape sessions. There 
were dozens of them, all Polaroids. The bag also contained eight unlabelled 
audiotapes and several floppy disks. 

There was a note. She unfolded it and read:

"There's no way to be absolutely certain this is everything, but we we're 
pretty damn sure. You'll feel better if you destroy it yourself. Be online 
at six sharp tomorrow morning."

Diane stuffed the photos and tapes back into the bag, then put on her 
clothes. She folded the top of the bag over and carried it out to the car. 

+ + +

Diane knelt in front of the fireplace. It was one of her favorite parts of 
the house and today it was especially attractive to her. She started a fire 
with a fire log, then fed the polaroids into it one by one, watching each of 
them go up in flames, making sure each was reduced to ashes. 

When all of the pictures were gone, she went upstairs to the study. One by 
one, she reformatted each of the floppy disks, then snapped them in half and 
threw them in the trash can. Finally, she spent half an hour pulling the 
tapes out of their casettes and cutting them into small pieces. 

This might not be everything, their elimination might not be permanent, but 
it felt wonderful.

+ + +

"Ding!"

- Her2U:    Hi.
- Her2U:    Sleepy?
- SubDiane:   What's going on?
- Her2U:    It's a bit early, but it's the safest time.
- Her2U:    Did you feel good destroying the gifts we sent?
- SubDiane:   I don't understand what's going on?
- Her2U:    You don't need to. 
- Her2U:    Here's what you need to do:
- Her2U:    First, change your online IDs, do NOT use SubDiane again
- Her2U:    and do not use DLawso again either
- Her2U:    Second, ignore anything that might look like communication
- Her2U:    from SumwonElz
- Her2U:    Third, if you meet anyone in town you recognize
- Her2U:    from those encounters, tell them you are not the girl they 
		think you are

Diane sat in front of the screen, puzzled and wondering. She wanted to feel 
thrilled, but couldn't ignore the possibility that Her2U was somehow 
connected to SumwonElz and this was a trap.

- SubDiane:   How do I know this is for real?
- Her2U:    You have to trust me.
- SubDiane:   Who are you? Why are you doing this?
- Her2U:    Those aren't the important questions. 
- Her2U:    This is the important question:
- Her2U:    Do you know how he found you?
- SubDiane:   I don't know how he found me, no.
- Her2U:    I know how he found you. 
- Her2U:    And I have to warn you so it does not happen again.
- SubDiane:   Yes
- Her2U:    You connected SubDiane to DLawso once in a chat
- SubDiane:   I never did.
- Her2U:    You did. I have the log. I can mail it to you.
- Her2U:    From there, it was only a small bit of research until he
- Her2U:    found you.
- SubDiane:   You say "he", I understood it was "they"
- Her2U:    Not important. 
- Her2U:    Just do what I said and never, never make that mistake again.
- Her2U:    One last thing.
- Her2U:    I may call on you for a favor sometime. 
- Her2U:    Or it may never happen. If it does, be prepared for it.
- Her2U:    I will give you a special word so you will know it is me.
- SubDiane:   Yes?
- Her2U:    Remember: "plum"
- SubDiane:   But that was the color they used when they told me how to 
		dress!
- "Member is no longer logged on"

+ + +

Diane grunted as she lifted the weight above her head. She was lifting 
nearly 40 pounds more than she'd been able to when she started weight 
training. She felt the sweat trickle down her forehead as she raised it and 
finished her tenth repetition.

She slowly lowered the weight to the floor, then stood up and stretched her 
arms again over her head. She smiled. Changing gyms had not only been 
necessary but a good idea. The program was much better here.

In the three months since her last contact with Her2U, she'd switched gyms 
and finally found the strength to confront James. It made no sense that in 
her worst hour, in her most difficult time, he posed the biggest threat to 
her. She confronted him several times about changes she felt needed to be 
made. With each conversation, she saw more clearly that he had no interest 
in the relationship other than the external fact of being married. 

Two weeks ago, she'd moved out. Her daughter was old enough that she talked 
to her about it and felt they'd come to a good understanding.

She reached down for the weight bar again and undid the collar. She slipped 
another five pounds onto each end.

It was time for another challenge.

				end of story