Diane Blackmailed

Barbara and Julie helped Diane dress, got her to the elevator and walked her through the lobby. Diane was completely exhausted and could barely walk. The women held her up, practically carrying her, one standing close on each side, holding her by the arms. They knew the management - had worked the hotel before - and didn't want any trouble. When they got outside, Julie handed Diane a card. "You're a fucking hot one, we could make a lot of money doing scenes, honey. I know some kinky motherfuckers." She lit up another cigarette, took a drag and blew the smoke upward into the air. "Call me."

===

...continued from Ch 04...

===

Diane leaned her back against the brick wall of the building and closed her eyes. She was exhausted but realized she'd made it. She'd satisfied Monish's customer, the man had even given her a tip. Diane laughed. As soon as he gave it to her, Julie had taken it away.

Diane opened her eyes and measured the distance to the taxi stand, gathered her strength for the walk. Just as she started, she shook her head. It wouldn't do her any good, she didn't have any money or the keys to her house in the tiny dress Curtis had her dressed in. She realized that she wasn't even sure where Monish's thugs had put her clothes when they walked her out of the hairdresser's in this outfit. Maybe she could walk back to the office and get upstairs to her desk. But, how would she get past security this late at night with no ID?

"Here, pull these on. You're a mess."

Diane turned around and saw three men in black jeans and A-shirts standing just behind her. One of them threw her a pair of plain white panties. Unexpectedly, Diane blushed. Julie had insisted she leave Curtis' hotel room with just the flimsy dress and her sandals. In the elevator on the way down, Julie had slid Diane's dress up around her waist, forcing her to take most of the ride exposed. Julie and Barbara had talked about Diane's ass, but neither of them touched her. She was frustrated, turned on by everything that had happened upstairs, and had worked hard to resist begging one of them to touch her.

It was dark enough outside that Diane could step into the shadows of the building's entryway and quickly slip on the panties.

"That's better," the shortest one said. "Let's go." He started walking toward the streetcorner but Diane didn't move. He turned around. "Well?"

"Well, what? I took care of Curtis, now I'm going home," Diane said. Her bluff felt feeble, even to her. The short man quickly stepped in front of her and took her arm in his hand. "Monish wants to see what Curtis did." He began walking down the street, tugging her along. "He wants you to tell him all about it." They turned the corner and she saw a bright red van parked at the first meter. "And..." he pulled a mini-disk out of his jean pocket, "...he wants to watch the video with you." Diane stared at him. "Oh, you didn't know Curtis was recording?" She didn't reply. "Curtis always records. You're probably up on the Internet already."

She looked around. It was only nine at night but the streets were already deserted. The van must be theirs. She looked at the other two men. They were taller, thin and muscular, early 20's, and exuded a rapacious air, as though they were animals waiting for their master to turn them loose. She's already noticed them jabbing at each other and pointing at her, whispering to each other. They were just far enough away that she couldn't make out much more than the occasional "fuck" or "cunt" or "tittie". Young punks. Young studs, no doubt each out to impress the other by using her harder. The shorter man was calmer, obviously in control.

He stopped at the van, pulled out his keys and opened the side panel. The two men climbed in first then reached for Diane. Before the door was even completely closed, she was naked and one of them was on top of her, rubbing his leg between her thighs, pinching her nipples hard. She moaned, swimming in a sea of desire and pain, and fucked them in turns all the way back to Monish's hangout.

===

It was one o'clock in the morning when Juan and Danny pulled the red van into Diane's driveway. Danny handed her the paper bag that contained her clothes from earlier and her keys. He slid he side panel door open and she inched her way out, stood beside the van trying to keep her legs from collapsing underneath her.

The van door slid slut and Juan backed out and drove away. Diane watched as the taillights turned the corner at the end of her block, then looked toward her front door. It seemed a  hundred miles away. She was completely fatigued.  When the van arrived at Monish's place, the two men had pulled their pants back on but walked Diane naked into the clubhouse. The place was loud and bright, packed with more than two dozen men and women, all drinking and dancing stupidly around the place. She was fondled, slapped, and kissed as the short man walked her from the front door to Monish's table at the back. One of the men even slid a finger inside her as she walked by, she turned to see who but he'd already walked away.

Monish had her stand just at the end of his table, arms straight above her head, facing the room. Someone put the video in the player and they watched Curtis, Julie and Barbara playing with Diane. For the first two hours, the movie looped as the patrons lined up and took turns playing with her titties. The milder ones just pinched and slapped them. Others used rulers, rubber bands, and clamps and weights. Two of the women had brought 1/8 inch canes with them and took turns making designs on Diane's flesh.

After that, it was gangbang time. Monish had announced it by standing on his table and banging two beer mugs together. "The bank is now open! Time to make deposits!" He'd laughed at his own joke and sat back down.  One of his men brought a barstool and put it in front of Diane. "You'll be more comfortable," he said, mockingly. She had sat on it, but the first man pulled her forward and she fell backward, her shoulders and back on the table, face looking directly at Monish. The cushion of the bench just barely supported her lower back and ass. Monish had looked at her and given her a big, evil smile. Diane lost track of the men at fifteen, wondered in a daze why she had even bothered to count that high. She knew that it was best to relax into it and even came several times, clutching whoever was on top of her while Monish and his crew laughed and commented on her "going wild". She'd feel the cum ooze out of her as each new man slid in, still got the same perverse thrill out of that feeling, the warm liquid gushing over her ass cheeks and dripping on to the floor. When they were done with her, Monish had given her an oversized t-shirt and sandals to wear home, then handed her the bag.

She looked down at the bag, sitting on the driveway at her feet. Every inch of her body was tired or sore, she wondered if she should just lay down there on the grass and sleep. The thought was tempting. She looked to her right. The lawn was neatly trimmed and just slightly damn with the overnight dew. She could curl up just next to the hedge and get a few hours of rest, then get up and go back into the house before daylight. It would feel so good to just sleep. Just for a few minutes. She was standing in a field underneath a tree looking at the horizon. There were hills and the sun was just starting to rise. She turned her head and saw two people on bicycles riding on a path just twenty or so feet to her left. One of them raised his hand and waved. The other veered off the path and rode toward her. He stopped a few feet away and dropped the bike to the ground then walked toward her. He pulled his shorts down and she looked at his stiff cock, automatically reached out her hand to touch it.

Diane realized she'd fallen asleep standing there and gave an exasperated chuckle. She leaned over, legs stiff and tight, raw nipples scraping the inside of the shirt, and picked the keys out of the bag and walked to the back door. Once inside, she went through the laundry and to the kitchen and poured herself a big glass of orange juice, hand trembling slightly from fatigue. She nibbled a leftover sandwich from the refrigerator. Sleep was going to feel so good. She put the rest of the sandwich back in the fridge and walked down the hallway toward her room.

"Hey, not so fast," she heard a voice from the front room. She froze. Someone was in her house. She knew Monish had made himself a key. Whoever it was, Monish had sent him. Monish again. Everywhere, every time. Monish.

She stormed into the front room and saw two men sitting there. Both were beefy men in their 30's wearing expensive navy blue suits, ties loosened but not off. They were drinking from cans of beer. One of them, the huskier, balding one, was chewing on an unlit cigar.

"Come on over here, honey. Let's see those titties," the other man said. He held up a pair of clover clamps and smiled.

"What the fuck are you doing in my house?!" she screamed, her foggy brain unable to contain her anger. "Do you just think you can come in here anytime and do whatever you want?? I can call the police you know! Does Monish think he can just do whatever he wants, whenever he wants??!" She stood there, fists clenched, trembling and spent. The men looked at each other, then back at Diane. "Are you finishd?"

She lowered her head and let out a sigh. She nodded. Sleep would have to wait.

===

The telephone rang. Diane tried to wake up and answer it but she was too exhausted and couldn't.

===

The telephone rang. Diane reached for her cell phone on the table beside the bed. She concentrated hard to focus her eyes and she saw that it was Rodrigo. What did he want?

She punched the button and said "Hello?"

"Diane? I'm glad I caught you before you left. I looked at the proposal, you didn't roll in all of Vader's numbers. It's a mess. Can we get together before you have to give it to him?"

Diane looked at the clock. It was seven a.m. She let out a defeated sigh. The men had finished with her at two, she'd signed on to her machine, downloaded Vader's updates and reworked her propsal until four-thirty, then send it to Rodrigo, asked him to print it for her. Then, she'd collapsed in bed.

"I didn't put in his numbers? What numbers?" she asked. Her brain was cotton candy, she couldn't remember who the client was, let alone the changes Vader had asked for. She remembered he wanted something changed about terms and guarantees, but didn't remember anything about numbers.

"His attachment. The spreadsheet. You were able to open it, weren't you?" Rodrigo asked. She shook her head. She had been too tired to work and hadn't noticed the attachment. She'd only made the changes he'd put in the email itself. She felt the panic growing in her again. Another wall was collapsing.

Diane slid her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, flincing as her tits rubbed against her shirt. She felt her nipples stiffen. A real pain slut, she thought. My body is abused for hours and hours and it turns me on. She thought back to Julie and the way she'd found to inflict such intense pain so easily, pictured herself standing there, staring at the woman's strong tattooed arms.

"Diane?" Rodrigo called. "You did get the spreadsheet?"

She pushed the image of Julie out of her head, tried to focus on the phone call. "Uh, no, the file was corrupt. Something in the email program, I guess," she lied, hoping he would buy it.

"Well, I have it here and can send it to you again. But I think it would be better if you came in. I could pull the numbers over into your proposal, but I'll need your help putting some words around it." She heard his voice but it was far away. She knew it was important to get into the office, to finish the proposal and get back on solid ground with Mr. Vader but her body needed to rest.

"Let me pour some coffee and call you back, OK?" she asked. Rodrigo agreed and she clicked off the phone. She started to get up, felt a glob of cum ooze from her pussy and drip onto the bed. She didn't care anymore. Her body was Monish's now and it was only a matter of time until he controlled it 24 hours a day. He'd keep finding customers with more and more intense appetite to send her to until...she shook her head. This constant inner monologue was going to drive her crazy if she didn't get it under control.

Monish was a problem, yes, but there was a solution somewhere. She just had to find it. She had to hold on to that idea or she'd collapse completely.

She walked across the room, feeling the cum slick along the inside of her thighs. She could hear it stick and slide when her legs rubbed together, the sound made her gag. She noticed something on the nightstand - am 8x10 black and white photo of Monish, shirtless. His arrogance frosted her. She wanted to toss it across the room but didn't have the energy to walk back to it. She steadied herself with her hand against the wall and walked toward the kitchen. She hesitated before turning the corner - fearful that he'd be there, or that he'd let more men into her house. But the kitchen was empty. Diane pushed the button on her coffee maker and it spun awake, grinding a new handful of beans and boiling water.

She leaned against the counter, winced as her heavy tits touched the granite edge. Everything was so tender. She'd never gone through anything like that before, it was an like unending gauntlet of freaks and perverts all on the same mission - make Diane hurt.

She smelled the coffee. A nice, normal scent. A touch of the old reality. Not the smell of sweat or leather or cum. She pictured herself on her knees, some stranger wiping a glob of cum off of her forehead with his finger, depositing it into her open mouth. Focus! Focus! She told herself. I have to get back to Rodrigo.

She knew he'd do the work for her if she asked, but she couldn't. It was wrong. He'd already done his part just reviewing the document. But her body screamed with her need for rest. She drank the coffee and pushed the button for another one.

A shower. She needed a shower if she was going in.

Diane went into the bathroom, turned on the hot water and slowly pulled the t shirt over her head. When the room was steaming, she turned it back to lukewarm. The hot would feel good on everything but her tits and she knew it. Diane stepped into the stall and reached for the hand sprayer. She vigorously soaped and washed everything from the waist down. Carefully, she leaned backward and shampooed her hair. Then, she took a washcloth and soaked it with water, dabbed her breasts and nipples gently, flinching at even the slightest scrub.

Good enough, she thought. She towelled herself dry, again very gingerly patting her breasts. Not too bad, she thought. I'm feeling closer to awake. She rubbed the towel over her hair, she'd blow dry it later. Diane patted her face and looked at the mirror. The red hair! How was she going to explain the red hair at work?! With her track record over the last few weeks, the last thing she could afford was a frivolous "change of style". She pushed the towel against her face to keep from crying. Monish again. He was taking over every part of her life.

The telephone rang again. She picked it up and growled, "fuck you Monish!"

"Diane? It's me, Carol."

Diane immediately tensed. Carol had been a good friend for most of the last ten years. They'd met at work and found they had a lot of common interests in music, movies and food. They weren't best friends who bared their souls to each other, but could always count on each other or support or a good night out.

"Hi, Carol. Sorry. There's been this telemarketer phoning me for the last few days."

"Oh, yeah. I know. The other day, I had another..."

"Carol, sorry to cut you off, but I've got a problem at work and have to get going here."

"I was just wondering if you wanted to catch a movie or something tonight."

Diane wanted to sleep but also needed some reality. She felt like the last two weeks had been nothing but non-stop sex and pain. Maybe a night out. If *he* didn't call.

"Sure. I could do something after six. Pick something good and text me, OK? Gotta run."

"Sure, love ya." Carol hung up and Diane set the cell back on the table. A normal night out. What were the odds? she thought.

Diane called Rodrigo and said she'd be there as soon as she could. He was already moving the information into her presentation and that made her feel good. The second cup of coffee was hitting her and she was awake, ready to conquer the world. She would get the presentation done, walk through it with Vader, and clean up some other loose ends. Monish's shadow hung over the day but she couldn't think of anything else to do but push on.

Selecting a bra was easy today - the tightest and most supportive thing she had. She didn't want them moving around on her during the day, hurt and distracting. She found an old, plain cotton bra and eased herself into it. It was perfect. The rest of her suit for the day - casual Friday - was a comfortable pair of slacks and a pullover top. Casual Friday, she thought. Friday. Date night. Sex night. Monish would be calling. She stood still, her pullover in her hand. Why bother? She might as well get naked and lay on the bed and wait for the phone call. No. No, she wouldn't give him that much control. She pulled the top on and dressed it up with a wooden beaded necklace and some bracelets and went into the bathroom to do hair and makeup.

===

Diane was antsy. She ate another forkful of salmon off the top of her salad, looked around the restaurant. Nice, normal people having nice, normal lunchtime chatter. She looked down at the cell phone on the table. When would Monish call and where would be send her?

It was just after noon. She'd driven to the office and finished the proposal with Rodrigo just in time for the meeting with Mr. Vader. She'd floated a story to both of them that she knew she was in a slump and thought the hair color change might pick her up out of it. They bought it. The proposal was fine, Vader gave her a pep talk about being back in the game. She felt a bit better, but she was aware that both of them knew something was going on with her. Vader told her that she and Bailey would be heading back to the client's site next week to give the updated presentation and she flinched. Bailey was a problem she hadn't given much thought to and now they were going on an assignment together. Well, she'd deal with that next week. Vader walked her to Bailey's office and they had a short planning session. Diane was nervous the whole time, watching Bailey for signs but getting nothing. It was as though the other day hadn't happened.

She pushed the salad around on her plate. It was hard to eat, her stomach was tight and she had no appetite. She looked at the phone again. The feeling of anticipation was horrible. It was a mixture of fear, anger, and arousal. Monish didn't have her do anything she wouldn't have done with Lars and his group. They'd even done rape and blackmail fantasies. The difference with Monish was that it was real. She couldn't say no. So what? She never said no anyway. Her head swum. She knew it was wrong. He was *blackmailing* her! He was making money off of her. It was all wrong but she...what? Diane realized what was bothering her. She knew that she preferred Monish's treatment to Lars. His men were harsher. They took a different attitude toward her body than Lars' group. They felt such a sense of entitlement, their ownership was not temporary - not the "here's tonight's schedule" approach Lars took - it was complete and forever. Any of Monish's customers could have her whenever they wanted to. She was completely and totally accessible.

Diane reached for her ice water. She was turning herself on again, felt the dampness between her legs, her clit engorged and sensitive. She looked at the phone. Why the hell didn't he call?

===

"Wasn't much of a movie was it?" Carol asked.

Diane laughed and shook her head. "A knock off of knock off. Damn! How do they get the money to produce crap like that?" Carol stopped to use the bathroom on their way out and Diane threw away the empty popcorn bucket and drinks. She took her phone out of her pocket and checked. No messages. No missed calls. It was nine-thirty and the entire day had been quiet. She'd grabbed a quick dinner and met Carol just in time to watch the previews.

Diane enjoyed Carol's company. The younger woman was high-energy and positive all the time. Life was a continuous party interrupted by successful business deals. She was smart and attractive and seemed to be plugged into everything that was 'going on' in town.

Carol walked out of the ladies room, ran her fingers through her thick blonde mane and said, "Come on, I want you to see a new spot." They got into Carol's car and listened to techno music - Carol's current favorite - turned up loud. Diane tried to start a conversation but Carol was perfunctory - more into the music than talking. That was fine. She leaned back into the leather seat and closed her eyes.

"Hey, sleepy head, we're here!"

...to be continued...