Diane Blackmailed

...from chapter 20...

Diane backed slowly out of the doorway, watching Ingrid as she slowly walked toward the small plastic box.

CHAPTER 21

After Katie rescued her from the litter box on Saturday night, she brought Diane back to the main room of the house. Saabira and Masozi were there, both seated in big armchairs, both naked, both sipping white wine.

Masozi stood up and undid the clasp of a small gold chain that ran around her waist and down between her legs. She slowly tugged it free and handed it to Katie then sat back down, looking almost bored. Katie wrapped it around Diane's waist and fastened it again. She felt her heart racing - she was wearing something that had touched Masozi's body! Diane pulled the chain down between her ass cheeks, then brought it up between her lips, snapping the end to the waist chain. Katie knelt in front of her and found the small golden band that hung just six inches or so below her waist. She opened it, then snapped it around Diane's clitoris and clicked it shut. Diane swooned. This very piece of metal had just been wrapped around Masozi's clit. She nearly came just thinking it. Katie made a few adjustments, tightening here, loosening there. When she was satisfied with its placement, Katie had Diane walk around the room. It was exquisite agony. Every move she made tugged the chain one way or the other, her clit with it. Even when she stood still, the gentle pressure of her heartbeat sending blood through her was amplified by the little band of metal. She shivered, all of her attention focused on that one tiny spot.

Diane spent the rest of Saturday night and well into Sunday morning doing housework. She felt an odd sense of peace, moving naked through the rooms like a dutiful housewife. She washed and dried the dishes, did laundry, swept, vacuumed, scrubbed the floors and swabbed the toilets - all the menial tasks of a servant girl, all with the gold chain tugging at her clitoris. Several times, she had to stop and stand motionless to prevent herself from cumming. Over and over, she came anyway, moaning and panting, her hand between her legs, rubbing her clit gently, careful not to let the metal band pinch her flesh.

Every two hours, Saabira had her stop what she was doing and took her into one of the playrooms. There - on a live Internet feed - she played a game with her for an invisible audience. Saabira had Diane stand with her arms behind her neck, the front of her legs pressed against the edge of the table. She attached rough clamps to Diane's nipples then strings to the clamps. The strings were tied to lead weights that rested about a foot from the edge of the table.

After a few minutes of Internet chatter, Saabira would tell Diane to begin walking slowly backward. Diane's eyes stared at the weights as she pulled them closer to the edge of the table, knowing they would fall soon, knowing they would yank hard on the nipple clamps.

Diane moved backward slowly, but then froze in place, paralyzed in anticipation of the upcoming pain. Saabira was patient, waited quietly, let Diane work toward her own torment at her own pace. The fans watching the Internet feed would make their comments, taunting Diane, encouraging Katie.

When the weights finally plunged off the edge of the table, Diane would shriek, then stand as still as she could while they swung back and forth until eventually they stopped, hanging directly down in front of her, stretching her nipples. By then, her body would be shaking from the pain and the tears running down her face. Saabira would have her repeat this three or four times before letting her put on her little apron and get back to the housework.

Sunday evening around six, Katie invited Diane to have dinner with them. Diane was allowed to dress in a casual pullover dress and panties. Ingrid served the meal, staring angrily at Diane the whole time but helpless to do anything.

The three women talked to Diane about the possibility of her moving in with them. Diane listened again to their conditions, again she agreed.

At eight, they sent her home alone in one of their cars.

[Week 8 - Monday night]

Monday night, Monish had Diane picked up at work and brought to Julie. Julie had three "tit freak" customers and Diane spent from six until eleven being driven from hotel to hotel to service them. They only wanted to cum between her titties then send her away.

By the time she was done with the last one, she was hot and horny and desperate to cum. The driver dropped her at Julie's hotel, but Diane didn't go in. She walked to the corner and looked around until she found Keera. Keera was standing with two other women, smoking and laughing. She saw Diane coming toward her and laughed. "This bitch the pussy licker I wuz tellin' y'all about," she said to her friends. Diane looked at her, eyes locked on the woman's thighs. Strong, muscled thighs stretching out from underneath the tight red skirt. Keera saw where Diane was looking and parted her legs slightly, ran her hand along the inside of her right thigh. Diane felt her cunt dripping wet and slowly looked upward and into Keera's face. Keera stared at her. "You'll have to pay fo' it this time," she sneered. Diane lowered her eyes and nodded.

The four women walked into the lobby of the hotel. The man behind the glass looked up, puzzled. Where were their tricks? he wondered. "Pay the man, honey," Keera said to Diane. Diane opened her small purse and handed the man two twenty-dollar bills. He just slid them into the register and pointed toward the stairwell. "Room 6," he said mechanically.

When they got to the room, Keera flopped down on the bed, her legs falling wide open and resting lazy on the mattress. Diane stared at her curly, black bush and took a deep breath.

"Fifty dollars," Keera said, holding out her hand. Diane didn't hesitate. She pulled five ten-dollar bills out of her purse and set them on the dresser. Keera looked at the other two hookers and laughed. "See?" She turned to Diane. "Another fifty if you want me naked," she laughed. Diane nodded and produced more bills. The other women looked at each other. "Damn!"

Keera pulled off her tiny bits of clothing and threw them on the floor. Diane climbed onto the bed and started kissing the inside of Keera's knees. She licked the sweaty flesh, relishing the taste of a girl who's been worked hard all night. She sniffed the skin and could smell the men whose bodies Keera's legs had been wrapped around. She worked her way upward slowly, hearing Keera's moans, aroused by the smell, the taste, the sounds. She buried her face in Keera's bush and pushed her tongue between the thick lips, tasting cum and pussy and sweat, licking hard and fast until Keera came. All the time, she was grinding her hips, feeling the gold clamp pulling at her clitoris, cumming over and over without even having to touch herself. When she came again, she heard Keera laugh and looked up. "Not bad." Then, she nodded toward the other two women. "You got mo' work to do. Pay 'em and get on wit' it." Diane eagerly reached for her purse.

Julie turned and looked when Diane walked into the room. "Where have you been?"

Diane lied, "The driver just dropped me off. They wanted me longer than they said." She walked into the kitchen, turned on the tap and filled a glass with water. When she turned around, she saw Julie right behind her. She slapped her across the face hard, back and forth twice. Diane dropped the water glass and it broke on the floor. She looked and saw Keera and one of the others standing in the doorway. "Don't fucking lie to me again," Julie growled at her. She grabbed Diane by the hair and dragged her into the other room. She pushed Diane to her knees. "Lick her asshole," she barked.

Keera turned around and slid her skirt up over her ass, pulled her cheeks apart and pushed herself toward Diane's face. Diane gagged and tried to pull her head back but Julie pushed her forward, burying her nose in Keera's crack. Diane started licking, her mind trying hard to be somewhere else. When Julie was satisfied she'd been taught a lesson, she told Keera to leave. "Don't ever do anything like that again," Julie told Diane. "Your body doesn't belong to you. Not anymore."

"So, what we got here?" Diane heard a voice from the door. She looked up and saw a big, beefy Latino man standing there. Julie walked to him and gave him a kiss. "A new one. One of Monish's. A real freak." She slid her hand into his pants and he fondled her titties. But his eyes kept looking at Diane. "She any good?"

Julie pulled back, sneered at him. "Why don't you fuck her and see?" The man laughed and unzipped his pants. "I think I will."

Ricky spent the next hour alternately fucking Diane's pussy and ass, finally unloading deep inside her backside. Julie stood against the wall, arms folded, glaring at Diane. Diane felt the hate and anger but knew better than to say anything. "Damn, Julie, you got a good one here," he laughed, pushing her off of him and onto the floor. "Yeah, a real winner," Julie growled.

All the rest of the week, Monish picked Diane up at six, passed her to Julie for the night, and brought her home at four in the morning. Ricky fucked her three more times, Julie looked more angry each time. On Friday, it came to a head. Ricky was fucking Diane when Monish came into the room. He argued with Julie that she was stealing from him - letting Ricky fuck Diane for free while she could be out working the street. He hit Julie, knocking her across the room and into one of the walls. Ricky swung at Monish, but Monish was faster and ducked out of the way. He pulled a knife out of his pocket and slashed Ricky across the arm. Ricky howled and threw a lamp at Monish, knocking him to the floor. He jumped on him but it was too late, Monish pushed the knife deep into his belly. Ricky's eyes widened and he rolled onto the floor. Julie kicked Monish and ran to the phone, dialed 911.

"Get her out of here," Monish barked at Julie. Julie yanked Diane's arm and pushed her into the hallway, told her to go home. Trembling and in shock, Diane staggered down the stairs and into the street and flagged down a taxicab.

She was too upset and nervous to go home, had the taxi driver take her to Saabira's place. Saabira was surprised but recognized immediately that something was wrong. She let Diane in, listened to her story, let her stay the night.

When Diane got home Sunday afternoon, Monish was already waiting inside. So were Curtis and Joe. Diane saw them as soon as she got into the kitchen, saw that Joe had attached his straps to the table, saw the bags of saline and the pole he would use to refill her, bring her back to the size Curtis wanted. She didn't bother resisting, just walked to the table, laid down on her back and closed her damp eyes.

Curtis took the opportunity to work on her hair as well. He cut it even shorter than last time and dyed it blond - a stark yellowish blond. This time, they didn't let her rest after the treatment. By nine, she was back to her fully engorged tit freak size and by nine thirty, she was at the Motel Six, being tit fucked by a line of five men. Monish brought her back to Julie and she worked the streets until six o'clock on Monday morning.

Julie walked into the room after Diane's last trick had left. "Ricky loved your pussy," she said.

"How is he?" Diane asked.

"He's fine," Julie said, her anger still obvious. "But you're not." She walked to the closet and opened the door. "We're stepping things up." She opened a door and took out a small bag. "Put this on and meet me downstairs," she said, throwing the bag at Diane.

Diane looked at the clock on the dresser. It was six twenty, she had to be at work by eight. There was a meeting with Vader and Bailey to go over another big account she'd worked on last year. Still plenty of time.

She opened the bag and stared taking out what was inside. A black garter belt. Fishnet stockings. A tiny black cocktail dress. Spiked heel shoes with two-inch wide ankle straps. A leather choker and two leather wrist bands. A fetish whore's costume. Diane panicked. This must be for a trick, she couldn't show up at work like this. Monish knew that. He'd lose his power. He couldn't blackmail her if she showed up like this.

But she'd lose her job. She knew that. Was that what he wanted now? To just pull the plug on her life and give her to Julie? She felt everything tumbling down around her, tried to keep calm. But it was impossible. With the new hair color and titties, Monday would have been difficult at best. But with these clothes, her life was as good as over.

Tears ran down her face as she slowly pulled the clothes on. Maybe it was one last customer, one last freak before they gave her her clothes back and sent her to work. Yes, that had to be it.

But it wasn't.

The driver dropped her in front of her building at five minutes to eight with nothing but her clothes. No money, no purse, no identification. Julie had made sure she didn't just run into the store and buy a new outfit. She had no choice but to walk upstairs and into the meeting dressed like the cheapest kind of street whore.

She fought hard to keep from crying but lost it halfway up the elevator. She felt the hot tears run down her cheek, knew her makeup was running. The people around her in the elevator politely turned their eyes but she knew they'd already seen everything they needed to see. Two of them knew her. The story would be around the floor in no time. Monish was destroying her.

Vader intercepted her before she got into the conference room, told her to go home. She reached for his shoulder, begged him to give her a chance, just let her sit in on the meeting and answer any questions. He said no. She offered to dial in from her desk, say she was calling in from home. Vader stared at her, his disgust and disappointment obvious, his concern showing. They stood there in the hallway. Bailey walked past, smiled an evil grin at her. Rodrigo stood halfway down the hall, looking at her. He leered and Diane felt herself sinking deeper into her own personal hell.  He was lost now. He'd seen her on the street and she might explain that, but there was no way to explain this. She was just another whore to him now.

Vader thought for a long time, then told her to go to his office and dial in, then go home as soon as the meeting ended. She thanked him and thanked him, staggering down the hallway, still not used to the heels.

Bailey followed her, pushed his head into Vader's office and said "I'll see you at three." She cried and punched in the numbers for the conference call.

The conference call was over by ten and Diane left the office. Before she could flag down a taxi, Bailey appeared behind her and took her arm. "Let's go," he said.

Diane opened her eyes. Bailey smiled down at her and started swinging his belt again. She struggled hard but her calves and forearms were tied tightly underneath the table, her hips high above her head on top of a pile of pillows. He stood at the head of the table, swinging the belt down hard between her legs, working from the inside of her right thigh, across her pussy and along the inside of her left thigh.

"You passed out again," he taunted her. "Try to be a little more focused." He walked to the side of the table and started on her titties again. She tried to scream but the ball gag in her mouth only let her moan and whimper. He hit her along the same lines he'd hit her before, intensifying the pain. Diane squirmed and twisted, grinding her body against the table. She'd given up on being aroused hours ago when it became clear that wasn't what he was after. He was punishing her for something real or imagined.

Monish had called him the night before and told him to leave her alone. He told Bailey that she was his and he couldn't afford to have Bailey taking her away from her work. This was the last time he could have her without paying Monish and he was making the best of it.

Bailey had set up four video cameras and scheduled over two dozen men to come and fuck her. When the first crew - a group of six - was finished, Bailey had tied her down and began the beating. He wanted to remember her at her best, he said, as he started the cameras. He started in earnest right away, there was no build up and no warning. She'd passed out half an hour into the first session and twice more since then. He kept an eye on his watch, the rest of the men would be arriving soon and he wanted her completely limp and exhausted by the time they showed up.

He dropped the belt to the floor and picked up the switch, laid it gently across her belly just above her navel. "I always loved this one," he whispered, then started in on her again. She lasted only ten minutes this time.

The taxi driver pulled into Diane's driveway, waited while she got out. He drove away, eyes still watching her as he turned the corner.

Diane stepped onto the porch and reached for the door knob. It was locked. She didn't have a purse or keys, but remembered there was a key hidden alongside the garage. She found it but the door still wouldn't open. Puzzled, she walked around to the back door but that key didn't work either. She looked into the window and saw that the furniture was gone from the front room. In a panic, she walked around to the other windows. All of the rooms were empty. Everything was gone - furniture, clothes, pictures, everything.

She panicked, she'd been robbed while she was gone! Should she call the police? She looked at her outfit. Probably not dressed like this, she would have to change...but there was nothing to change into. She got more agitated as she realized she had no money to buy anything new. In fact, no money to get a hotel room for the night or even a taxi to take her there.

She heard footsteps on the gravel behind the garage. Two sets of steps approaching. She ran into the corner, tried to hide but knew it was useless.

"Diane?"

She recognize the voice. Judy, a neighbor from down the block. She'd had her and Karl over a dozen times, they were casual social friends. She might have a hard time explaining the outfit, but at least it was someone she knew.

They looked around the corner, saw her standing against the back wall.

"Ah." Then, "just like they said."

Diane asked, "just like who said?" but they didn't answer. Judy reached out her hand and told Diane to follow them.

Diane chattered as they walked down the street about how she'd lost her keys and had come back from a wild party where everyone dressed in black and leather and...the woman slapped her across the face. Diane froze and stared at her.

"Save your breath, pig. You're going to need it," the woman snarled.

Diane's legs went weak and she fell to her knees, her hands scratching the concrete sidewalk.

"Get the fuck up," Karl barked, standing over her. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her upward. "Fucking bitch and all of your fancy friends." He pushed her forward. "Too fucking good for us, yeah?" he sneered. "We'll see how good you are. And what you're good *for*."

Diane's eyes watered and she looked up and down the street, her street, her neighborhood. Everything looked so normal. Cars in the driveways, lights on in the windows, bushes and trees trimmed just right. Now, it all looked frightening, foreign, ominous. Were those people in their houses? Or were they at Karl's house? Waiting for her? It didn't take long for her to find out.

...from Chapter 22 (which will be the final chapter) ...

As soon as Judy opened the door, Diane knew her time in that neighborhood was through. There were half a dozen couples in the front room, holding drinks and gathered around a big-screen television set. She was the main event. The movie that was playing was one of the whipping post sessions, the first one with Mr. Taylor. Taylor kept swinging his arm, the whip flying through the air, landing on her body with a sickening crack. Diane was screaming and begging, the sound on the television turned down but still audible.