Message-ID: <20633eli$9903180430@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year99/20633.txt> From: auryman@aol.com (AuryMan) Subject: Diane's Mistake 8/21 (M+F, nc, blackmail, bdsm, etc) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <19990317221115.10843.00000421@ng33.aol.com> 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 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. + + + end of chapter 8 -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>