Diane Blackmailed

[please comment if you're enjoying this series. I have several more chapters in mind but haven't proofread or spell checked them yet - I need to know if people want more...]

... from chapter 7 ...

The arms shifted as they flogged her, moving up or down as needed to make sure they covered her whole body. She shook her head wildly, shaking and screaming as the pain crawled over the surface of her body. She heard a tap from the window and looked up. renee was on her knees, the man's cock in her mouth. But that wasn't what he was pointing at. He was pointing at the number displayed on the window. It read 59:44. She felt herself go numb when she realized what it was. It was a countdown timer. He'd set it for one hour, that must have been renee's punishment. What renee was so afraid of and so desperate to escape. That was why she kept repeating "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." Diane let her head drop onto her chest as the machine continued endlessly on and on, paying absolutely no attention to her sobs or screams.

CHAPTER 8

Diane stared into the mirror. The woman who looked back at her scared her. She had dark circles under both eyes and swollen lips. Her hair was stringy and limp, her face pale. When she let her eyes move down the body, she saw the marks from yesterday's sessions. They began just inches below her neckline and were prominent all the way to her waist. She was wearing a pair of men's pajama bottoms but she knew that the marks continued all the way to her knees. She could feel them.

She leaned weakly against the sink, her legs barely able to support her. They'd brought her home at nine p.m. last night and she'd slept solidly until seven. The pain killers had helped, but she was still tired.

Diane ran her fingers through her hair. It was still dyed a bright red. For Curtis. For Monish. How would she explain that at work? She shook her head. Don't explain, don't complain. Or something like that. She was tired and her thinking was fuzzy. She brushed her teeth then untied the pajamas and dropped them to the floor. She didn't look at her legs, didn't want to see them. What was she doing?

She reached into the shower and turned it on, let the water warm until it was steaming hot. What was she doing? she asked herself again. But she knew. She knew that she was crossing the line between the casual SM games she'd been playing with Lars and the world Monish was pulling her into. She felt the tension between hating him for blackmailing her and the need to plunge deeper and deeper into her own depravity. She started thinking back over the last 24 hours, the machine she'd been attached to, the contest they'd had - Diane in the middle as their toy.

The mirror was steaming up from the heat in the room. Diane felt the humidity on her body, saw the shiny film reflecting the bathroom lights. In a daze, she reached up and touched her nipples, tugging them gently at first, then pulling further and further toward the mirror, twisting slightly now, feeling the rush of pain through her breast and belly and into her crotch, pinching harder now, twisting nearly all the way around, pulling forward and now sideways, the muscles in her forearms tense now as she pulled harder and harder, teeth clenching, lips pulled back, starting to moan until she's had enough, let go of both at the same time, felt the blood rush back and gasped, then stroked her clit with her finger fast and hard until she came, watching the degenrate in the mirror panting and moaning, then finally smiling and letting her face relax.

"Bates! I need to see you. Now!"

Diane nearly jumped out of her chair. Vader's voice had always startled her and now it was getting worse. There was a more aggressive tone to his voice. Had Monish sent him something? Was the game over?

Her fears grew as she walked down the hall toward his office. Rodrigo avoided her eyes and several others turned their backs on her as she walked by. Monish had done it, she knew. He'd send Vader a photo. Or a video. Or worse.

"Yes, sir?" she asked timidly, stepping into his office.

"Close the door," Vader said, not looking up from his desk. Diane closed the door and walked closer to the desk. "I need you to review some of Bailey's work." She was shocked. When Bailey first appeared last week - seemingly out of nowhere - it had seemed clear that he was there to review *her* work. Now the tables were turned?

"Did you notice something?" she asked, trying to keep her calm.

"No. But you might." He pushed a report toward her but kept his eyes on the form he was filling out. "That's all."

Diane picked up the folder and walked out of the room, puzzled and disoriented. Was this a game? Something Monish and Bailey had set up to confuse her even more? She walked back to her desk, feeling more and more that she was losing her grip on reality. She nearly tripped over her own feet on the way back to her chair. She collapsed in it and put her head down on her desk.

"I like the red hair."

Diane didn't budge, didn't look up. She recognized Bailey's voice immediately. What did he want? Was he going to take her into the elevator again? Or into a meeting room somewhere?

"You must have met Curtis," he said in a quiet voice. Diane didn't raise her head, didn't say anything. "I'll see you at lunch time. Downstairs. In the loading dock." He walked calmly out of her office. Diane took slow breaths, trying to keep herself calm. Bailey bothered her more than the others. Why?

"Hi. I like the new look." She looked up. It was Rodrigo, one of her few remaining connetions with the world of normal people. She tried to smile. "Thanks, just trying something out."

"Is the new guy bothering you?"

"No, no, just asking some questions about expenses," he lied.

"Right," Rodrigo said mercifully. "Listen, he's got quite an attitude so don't let him bother you. I heard someone upstairs pulled some strings and got him assigned to Vader. Nobody knows why." I know why, Diane thought. I know exactly why. Of course, she couldn't tell Rodrigo.

"Well, if you need anything, jsut let me know, OK?" Rodrigo said, then turned and went back into his cubicle. Good old Rodrigo, she thought. A normal human being.

Bailey took her to the loading dock Monday afternoon, then again before they went home for the day. Diane was awake all of Monday night, unable to sleep. Most of her body still ached from the weekend and she was unable to find a comfortable position. She thought about a drink or more pain killers, but something about the pain felt good. Three times Monday night, she fingered herself to climax. She finally fell asleep around four, then the alarm rang at six.

Tuesday was more of the same, Bailey at lunchtime and no phone calls from Monish or Lars all night long. This time, she fell asleep at two, got a whole four hours of sleep.

By Wednesday, she was stumbling around the kitchen, zombie-like from sleep deprivation. She caught herself heading out of the house with her blouse unbottoned and only one shoe. This was insane, she thought.

After she parked the car, instead of heading into the office, she went to the Walgreen's down the street. She read the labels on the various over-the-counter speed products she knew about, diet pills, energy drinks, and finally settled on D-----. She picked up a box with 24 pills, paid for it, and swallowed four as soon as she got to her desk. She got through the morning all right but felt a slump in the midafternoon and too another two.

Just before five o'clock, Bailey came by her cubicle and handed her a slip of paper. At six, Diane handed her keys to the valet at the hotel Bailey had written down. At six ten, she was naked on her knees while Bailey opened a small suitcase that contained a variety of paddles, crops, and floggers. At eight thirty, Diane was in the lobby bar sipping red wine and eating a salad. After Bailey had finished using her, he'd taken a break and handed her an envelope. Monish would be picking her up at the hotel at nine o'clock.  She knew he would keep her out all night and that she would need to be ready for work tomorrow. She laid her head on the table and tried to fall asleep but couldn't.

When Monish's driver showed up for her, she told him to wait while she swallowed two more of the pills.

"Diane?"

Diane rolled over on the sofa and tried to open her eyes. Her body wouldn't respond.

"Diane?" She felt a hand on her shoulder, someone shaking her. She jerked up, opened her eyes and saw Jorge, one of Monish's men. He slapped her across the face. "Wakey, wakey, Miss Bates." She rubbed her eyes stretched.

"What time?" she muttered.

"Four o'clock." He said, his grin getting wider. He reached for the brown paper bag on the floor and pushed it into her lap. "Here. Get dressed. I will be in the car. You have five minutes."

Diane stood up, steadying herself on the arm of the sofa. She felt sick, ran into the bathroom and threw up. The room was spinning. She turned on the tap and filled a glass with cold water, started to drink it but couldn't finish it. She brushed her teeth and ran the comb through her hair. Then, she pulled open the medicine cabinet and found the box of pills, pushed four of them out of their plastic holders and swallowed them.

The clothes in the bag were a complete surprise. A frumpy, brown and tan striped skirt, a plain tan shirt and a dark brown vest. She looked like an old-fashioned librarian with bad taste. The stockings were tan rollups and the shoes were plain brown flats. Even her underwear looked like something her mother might have worn. She looked horrible, an outfit she might wear in an old folks home. On a bad day.

The pills started kicking in while they were in the van. Her hands trembled slightly and she started feeling anxious. She turned around and saw the other two men in the back of the van and had an urge to go in the back with them. That was the usual routine, whoever picked her up passed her around in the back. But this time, Monish had Jorge put her in the front seat. There had to be a reason.

The van pulled up at a cheap motel. Jorge motioned and she followed him across the parking lot and up the stairs to the second floor. He knocked at the third door. The light inside came on and a hand pulled back the curatin. A woman's face looked out, then dropped the curtain back. After a few seconds, the light went out.

Diane looked at Jorge and he smiled. "Let's try the next one."

"What the hell?"

He took her by the wrist and walked to the next door. They tried three more rooms before someone opened the door. Three drunken college-aged kids high-fived each other as they took turns with her for the next two hours. Jorge had told them a story about her being a lonely, frustrated housewife who wanted to experience some young cock. Diane knew that everything would change if they saw her naked, so she immediately climbed on the bed on her hands and knees and pulled her skirt up around her waist, offering her already-wet cunt to them.

The first one fucked her that way, but the other two insisted on seeing her naked. Jorge told her to strip and she slowly peeled off her clothes, they grew more and more quiet. Even now, four days after the Game, her body was still marked. The men didn't know what to do, they spanked her bottom with open hands a few times, but none of them were very much into it and they ended up back on the bed with her, taking her one at a time missionary style.

At six thirty, Jorge clapped his hands and told them they had to be leaving. Diane had to get to work. He handed each of them a card with his name and telephone number and told them to call anytime they wanted to have some fun.

Diane got dressed and they went back to the van. Jorge and the others took turns with her until eight, when they drove her to work. The van pulled into the service entrance and parked near the elevator.

Diane looked at herself, then at  Jorge. "Can I go home and change?" she asked. He laughed. She protested, "I can't go in dresed like this! This is an office building, I look like a fucking bag lady!"

Jorge threw her a hairbrush and a tube of cheap red lipstick. "Do your best." He turned around in his seat and flicked on the radio. A loud country song started playing. He turned back to her. "I believe you have a meeting at nine, so you'd better hurry up."

She did her best to make herself presentable but after four hours of hard fucking and with these cheap clothes, it was an impossible task.

Jorge watched her, then held out his hand for the brush and lipstick. "Monish said that someone in the building wanted to see you like this. Some kind of freaky-assed fetish." They all laughed. One of the other says, "I guess maybe he had a crush on his grandma!"

Diane felt her stomach sink. "Someone" in the building wanted her to dress this way. Bailey? If it wasn't Bailey, that meant someone *else* knew. How wide would the circle get before everything came to the surface and she lost her job?

Bailey fucked her again at lunch time, she popped more of the pills to get over the mid-afernoon slump. Vader talked to her twice about her accounts, she was neglecting them and he was getting reports from some of her customers that she was off her game. She'd cut two of them off during calls (the pills were affecting her temper and she was always on the edge of screaming at their insipid comments), she'd made three costly mistakes in her calculations (her trembling fingers - hopped up from the pills and caffeine - were having a hard time working the keyboard), and her appearance was sliding (customers were noticing that her clothes often looked like they'd been slept in and she looked exhausted all the time).  He told her that he was disappointed in her. She'd always been one of their top producers and he thought of her as family. That brought tears to her eyes. She knew that their relationship had always been close, not just a professional bond but a personal one as well.

Rodrigo talked to her as well. He said that he was worried she might be going through some kind of personal crisis, maybe even a nervous breakdown.

"We've worked together a long time, Diane. Since the old building, remember?" She watched his face as he spoke. He had deep, dark brown eyes and rich black hair. "I remember when you first came on board, they paired us up in those classes on compliance." She tried to focus but could only watch his lips, imagined what it would be like to kiss them, to run her tongue over his teeth. "You know I'm always available to have lunch or something and just talk about what's going on." She imagined running her fingers over his cafe latte colored skin, feeling his cock inside her while he fucked her. She was getting excited and wet, felt her nipples stiffen underneath the heavy cotton bra.

"Diane? Did you hear me?" She snapped back and thanked him, said she would be OK, then got up and walked to the Ladie's room. Inside, she swallowed four more of the pills, then let the basin fill with water. She leaned over and closed her eyes, splashed the cool water on her face, enjoyed how it felt. When she stood up, she saw that someone had come out of one of the stalls and was staring at her.

The other woman smiled. Diane looked at her and panicked. The woman was wearing a very plain, light grey woolen skirt, a grey blouse and a vest. Was it her? Was she the one who'd told Monish to dress Diane this way? The woman's face was gaunt and stern, a prison guard or a wicked stepmother. Her neck was wiry and the veins showed. Diane felt a rush of heat between her legs. She imagined the woman walking over to her, pushing her face down against the cool marble sink, pushing her hand up between Diane's legs and roughly shoving her fingers inside her cunt. She felt herself gushing again, her cunt and clit swelling up. The woman gave her a strange look, then quickly eyeballed her head to toe. Diane felt the look like a hand, touching each part of her body, waves of arousal washing over her.

"What do you want me to do?" Diane asked in a whisper. The woman stood still for a moment, then asked, "I beg your pardon?" Diane felt crushed now, she'd imagined the whole thing. "Sorry, I thought you said something," Diane stammered. The woman turned and walked out of the room. Diane leaned against the sink for a long time, wondering if she had lost it.

Life went on pretty much like that for the next two weeks. Diane avoided Lars, serviced Bailey at least once every day, and Monish had her sent out on "engagements" from six at night till three or four in the morning every day. Both weekends were full. She spent the first weekend being driven from hotel to hotel, sleeping three hours on Friday night and four on Saturday. The second weekend, she was flown to a nearby city and was the main exhibit during a three day demonstration of bondage and restraint equipment.

She didn't sleep at all that second weekend. She was surviving on caffeine and pills. She'd lost twenty pounds and was constantly aroused now. At work, Rodrigo had started avoiding her and Vader had given her a verbal reprimand about her performance. Her two biggest accounts had been turned over to Bailey, who enjoyed bragging about it while he was using her in a closet or on the loading dock or at his apartment. Even Bailey had started pimping her now. To the same man twice, but he was clearly looking for ways to improve his cash flow.

CHAPTER 09

One Tuesday evening, things took an unexpected turn.

Diane had dinner with three women who had leased her from Monish. That was the way he liked to talk about their "arrangement". He was 'leasing her out'. It sounded so much better than 'pimping her out'. They'd taken her back to a house in the suburbs with a converted basement. There were several restraint systems, from simple stocks and a pillar to ingenious devices attached to the ceiling and walls that could be adjusted to restrain her in nearly any position. The basement was soundproofed and the windows covered. Diane wasn't gagged during their four hour session, but one of the women - Katie - did have to stick cotton in her ears because Diane's screams were annoying her.

...please comment or email if you would like this series continued...