Message-ID: <3330eli$9708250924@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/3330.txt>
From: Bookman <readebks@wolfenet.COM>
Subject: RP: Spamhater Decoded: Blackmailed Wife 1--15
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
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: <34009D5F.7BFC@wolfenet.com>


(Note: I am not the author, I am only the decoder.

There are two separate stories called "Blackmailed Wife".  I will be
reposting both of them, as BM1 and BM2.

If you are the author of this piece, I would like to get your name
connected
to your work in our archives, so you get the credit you deserve in all
future
reposts.  Please email me.)




                              BlkMldWf.zip - 15/17

                              The Blackmailed Wife
                                   Chapter 15

      "My dear girl, you've been wasting your talents working as a
secretary,"
Max chuckled a little later as he unstrapped her still shaking body from
the
machine.  "We should channel them into something that more befits your
temperament."

      Ann stumbled to the bed collapsing on it, arms and legs spread
obscenely
wide.  She couldn't bear to move to even try and cover herself after the
experience on that dreadful machine.  The shame and humiliation of what
had
just been done to her was too much for the tormented girl. Not only had
her
body betrayed her shamelessly to this beast, but had also betrayed her
deep
love for Dave.  She had turned into an animal herself and all thoughts
of
decency had deserted her in her wild quest for her own selfish sensual
satisfaction.

      She clenched her fists so tightly together her knuckles hurt when
she
thought of the depths of degradation to which he had brought her.  The
words he
had made her use, and worse, that he had made her want to use. There was
nothing she wouldn't do at this moment if she could just erase these
last few
horrid minutes from time forever and replace them with anything --
anything but
what had occurred.

      "Here, my dear, I think you need this," Max interrupted her
thoughts and
handed her a drink and lighted cigarette.  "But don't drink it too
quickly, we
don't want you to get too insensitive, do we?"

      Ann lifted herself exhaustedly to one elbow and accepted the
drink. She
turned the glass up and almost drained it with one gulp to erase the dry
thick
taste of Max's semen in her mouth.  He sat on the edge of the bed next
to her
drinking his soda and ice that he had fixed for himself and ran his hand
languidly over Ann's full rounded hip that rose in profile as she lay on
her
side.  She made no move to stop him or pull away from his possessive
caress.
She no longer cared -- nothing mattered anymore.  She had descended as
far into
the cesspool of depravity as one could go in her attempt to regain the
pictures
upon which her husband's future happiness rested -- anything else that
happened
after this could not be worse so she resigned herself to suffer his
humiliations, whatever they might be for the period they had agreed
upon.

      "You liked that, didn't you, my dove?" Max said, a triumphant
gleam in
his eyes.

      Ann's mind suddenly rebelled again at his possessive familiarity
and she
had to strike back at him.  She sat up abruptly on the bed.

      "Mr. Schroeder," she said, glaring at him coldly.  "Please don't
call me
"my dear."  I've agreed to your terms because you've forced me into it
and I've
no other choice but I won't give you my soul, Mr. Schroeder, and you
can't make
me, no matter what you do."

      "Are you so certain, my dear Ann?" Max smiled, his small beady
eyes
staring straight back into hers.

      "Yes, I'm certain," Ann spat at him, she wanted more than anything
in the
world to hurt this vile, little man because of the indescribable
humiliations
he had just heaped upon her helpless bound form.  "Look at you, do you
think
anyone could even lie next to you, you fat slimy thing, unless you
forced them
to do it the way you did me, You're revolting and disgusting!"

      Almost before the last words were out of her mouth, Ann was sorry.
In her
sudden desire to fight back and avenge her own weak surrender, she had
forgotten the reason she was here.  She almost reached for him to
apologize and
to say she didn't really mean those things but his hard cool stare cut
her
short.

      "All right, Mrs. Morrow, if that's the way you want it, then
that's the
way it shall be."

      Max rose from the bed and walked over to the clock, patting its
face. He
turned and looked at her crumpled form on the bed.

      "Remember the rules, it doesn't start again until I'm pleased. 
And
believe me, Mrs. Morrow, I can be very difficult to please once I have
become
angry."

      He pulled his robe together, tying it with the terry-cloth belt
and
walked toward the door.

      "I'll be back tomorrow when you've had time to think," he said,
his small
cruel eyes penetrating her.  "I hope you'll be in a more receptive
mood."

      With that, the opened the door and left, bolting it behind him.
Ann's
eyes flooded with tears.  She collapsed on the bed moaning to herself.

      "What have I done?  Oh God, what have I done now?"  Her clenched
fists
pounded the bed beside her in frustration.  She had never felt so alone
and
helpless in her entire life.  She sobbed herself into a deep but
troubled
sleep, her mind dwelling on the envelope above, and wondering how much
she
would have to go through to start its slow, tortuous descent again.  Her
vagina
felt stretched and used as it never had before and her last conscious
thought
was of the huge mechanical cock, drubbing ceaselessly in and out of her
belly
from behind while Max had emptied his evil sperm mercilessly into her
mouth in
front.

                                  *    *    *

      She awoke with a start.  Sidney was standing over her with a large
glass
of orange juice.

      "Mr. Schroeder said to give you this to keep up your strength,
Madam," he
said, maintaining his icy reserve.

      Ann crimsoned when she realized that she was still nude.  She
vainly
attempted to cover herself with her hands but there were just too many
critical
exposed areas to allow it.

      "May I have some clothing, please," she asked in an almost
whisper,
attempting to maintain as much dignity as possible.

      "No madam, Mr. Schroeder instructs that you are to have no
clothing or
food until he instructs."

      "But-but I can't just stay here like this.  I must at least have
something to cover myself."

      "No one will enter, madam, except me, and I'm just not interested.
There
is a bathroom with all the things you need."  Sidney pointed to a door
next to
the dressing room Max had shown her last night.  "Please don't feel any
animosity toward me, Mrs. Morrow, I am only an employee and follow Mr.
Schroeder's orders."

      He left the room, again bolting the door and left Ann still
sitting in
the center of the bed, her arms ineffectually thrown around her exposed
breasts
and thighs.  As soon as he was out the door, Ann tried the dressing room
door.
She remembered it had clothing in it.  It was locked. She went into the
bathroom and found on a dressing table, all the things a woman needs for
her
toilet.  There were several packs of cigarettes and a small silver tray
of the
thin brown hashish cigarettes.  She looked at them in curiosity.  She
had not
really had the chance to study them in Tijuana, the room had been dark,
but had
wondered what they really looked like.

      Such a small thing, she mused, and yet so powerful to dissolve
one's
will.  She thought at first, of flushing the evil little things down the
john,
but decided against it, thinking it might drive Max to further anger. 
She knew
now that if she was to ever get out of here she must not allow that to
happen
again.  She left the cigarettes where they were and brushed her teeth,
showered, and combed her hair.  At least she could maintain the dignity
of
bodily cleanliness, if nothing else.  This was important to her and
snide her
feel better in spite of her hopeless situation.

      When she had finished her toilet, she returned to the large room
and
began to cautiously explore it.  Last night she had been so upset
emotionally
and so filled with Martinis that she didn't really remember it clearly. 
She
did remember the mural and all its details.  How could she forget, she
thought,
the way Max had described it and the language he had used in doing so? 
The
racks holding the long poles and whips were locked. Undoubtedly, to
prevent her
from fishing for the envelope with them.  Not that it mattered, the door
was
locked and she had no clothes.  What would she do if she was able to get
them
down anyway?

      In one corner was a large bookcase that attracted her attention. 
It must
have held at least two hundred books.  The titles were strange and were
not
familiar to Ann.  They were all bound in beautiful red leather covers
with the
titles in gold.  No authors were listed.  She pulled one out at random
with the
title, "History of Female Self-gratification -- Illustrated."

      She took the glass of orange juice Sidney had left, and a package
of
cigarette and curled up in one of the large, soft chairs that circled
the bed
with the book.  She was ravenously hungry in spite of her anxiety and
the
orange juice helped to quell it a bit.  She lit a cigarette and began
thumbing
through the voluminous pages.

      It was the strangest book she had ever read and at first revolted
her
with its pointed language but as it progressed she became more
fascinated with
the subject.  It explained in lurid detail the methods women used in
bringing
about sexual gratification without the aid of a man.  Detailed
photographs were
interspersed between the pages of description.  One such photograph
showed a
strange contraption upon which the woman could lie on her back and by
turning a
bicycle pedal above her could adjust the rate of speed of a mechanical
lover
below.  Various sized instruments could be attached to the pistol-like
device.
There was another of a plain rubber instrument whose shape caused her to
flush
in embarrassment even though she was alone.  It was obviously for hand
use
only.  Along with the photographs were detailed histories of each.  It
described their uses, the pleasures they could bring, and even in some
cases
detailed drawings of how they might be constructed.

      Ann went through several other books, all of which were
illustrated and
explained graphically the actions taking place in these illustrations.
One had
described and pictured all the positions of love with combinations of
from two
to five or six people involved.  It was similar in detail to the mural
but
illustrated photographically.  She was certain the artists had used some
of
these photos for their models when they had done the painting.  They
were
similar in subject.  Even some of the faces looked the sane...

      Ann began to get restless, she had gone through both packs of
cigarettes
now and wondered how long she had been sitting there.  It must have been
quite
a few hours though but she had no way of telling.  There were no clocks,
except
the one marked off in twenty-four hours -- and it was stopped after
running
only one hour and forty-three minutes though her ordeal had seemed it
had
lasted for days.  There were no windows in the room so she didn't have
the
slightest idea whether it was light or dark outside.  She was completely
isolated from the world and this madman could keep her here as long as
he
wanted to as she had told no one where she was going.

      Suddenly, she could hear the door opening.  She tried to hide the
book
she was reading but it was too late.  Max was in the room before she
could get
up out of the chair.  Instead, she pressed it over her breasts to hide
as much
of herself as she could.  This still left the rest of her exposed but
there was
nothing she could do about it.

      "Well, my dear, I see you've found my little collection of erotic
literature.  Does it appeal to you now that you've tasted some of its
secrets?"

      Ann held herself back from cursing him as she felt like doing; she
knew
it would be a mistake and she wanted with all her heart to get the clock
running again and leave this evil place with the incriminating
photographs
dangling over the bed, safely in her possession.

      "Yes -- I've I've enjoyed them," she lied in her anxiety to please
him.

      "I hope you've repented after your disgraceful outburst last
night. I
trust the time you've had to reconsider your position has enlightened
your
sense of logic."

      "I-I'll do anything," Ann said, lowering her head in utter defeat.
She
had thought a great deal about it and there was no other way out but do
his
complete bidding.

      "Good then, shall we have something to eat?"

      "Oh, yes, please," the gnawing hunger in her sty mach was almost
more
than sloe could bear.  She hadn't eaten a thing the day she came here
because
of her dread of the meeting.  This would make almost two days since she
had
touched a thing but the orange juice.

      Max rang for Sidney and he wheeled in a large table of delicious
delicacies that caused Ann's mouth to water as she thought of tasting
it.

      "Just leave one chair, Sidney, Mrs. Morrow will be eating on the
floor,"
Max said slyly with a wink to the butler.

      "What-what-do you mean?" Ann stammered.

      "Just what I said, my dear," as he sat down at the lone chair. 
"This is
part of the game.  Sit here beside me on your knees and I'll feed you.
No
hands," he chuckled, "if you do, no more food."

      "Aren't-aren't you going to start the clock now?" Ann looked at
him
pleadingly.

      "No, my dove, this is practice to see if you've really repented
the way
you say you have.  Now crawl over here like a good little girl."

      Ann slumped to the floor from the chair and began the seemingly
endless
crawl to the table.  It was the most monstrous humiliation she had been
subjected to yet.  To have to sit on her haunches and beg for her food
from
this vile creature was worse even than physical abuse. Nevertheless, her
hunger
overcame her fierce pride and she made her way to him slowly.  She could
see
his beady eyes playing with sadistic glee on her large breasts as they
danced
beneath her.

      He cut into the pheasant and crammed his own mouth full with bite
after
bite.  After what seemed an eternity to her, he took a small scrap in
his
greasy little fingers and threw it over on the floor some distance
away.  In
her scramble for it, she could hear his lewd clucking in the background
as he
watched her exposed buttocks swishing tantalizing back and forth in the
air as
she greedily lowered her face to the floor and quickly gulped the morsel
down
He continued this torment throughout the meal, making certain each time
he
threw a scrap that he had a good view of her both crawling after the
bits of
food and then crawling back beside him before he would throw another.

      "I'm giving you practice, my dear, for a friend who's coming
shortly. He
likes his women crawling on the floor.  As punishment for your
uncalled-for
outburst last night, I'm going to let him amuse himself with you for a
few
hours."

      Despite her still unsatisfied hunger, Ann leaped to her feet
beside him.

      "You-you mean another man?" she blurted in horror.

      "Of course, my love, I told you I would have to discipline you.
Besides,
I'm certain you want the clock to start again.  Look, you haven't even
begun to
earn your little keepsakes back."  He pointed to the envelope which had
hardly
begun its long descent down to where Ann could reach them.

      "But I'm just supposed to please you," the stunned girl whimpered.
"You
promised, you promised if I just pleased you."

      "Ah, my dear, but it does please me.  You see, I'll be watching it
all
both for my own enjoyment, and also to make certain my friend is happy."

      "You mean you're going to be in the room too?"  Revulsion
mushroomed
inside her unbelieving mind.

      "No, of course not.  Nothing so crude.  I'll be behind there with
some
other friends."  He pointed triumphantly to the mirrored wall.

      It was with a sudden shocking realization that Ann remembered the
two-way
mirror in Tijuana.  He had them too!

      "Oh no," she moaned sinking limply to her knees beside him. 
"Please
don't nuke me do that, I just can't, knowing other people are watching. 
I just
can't."  She sobbed hysterically.

      "Ann my dear, you did a beautiful job in Tijuana, there were at
least ten
people in the room when you performed so well."

      "But I was drugged, that wasn't me, I didn't know what I was
doing," she
defended, tears streaming down both cheeks.

      "I've left you some help in the dressing room.  I'm certain you've
seen
them."

      "No," she protested, "I won't ever smoke one of those horrible
things
again."

      "That's up to you, my dear, I thought you just might appreciate
the help
until you get over these silly inhibitions you've been brought up with. 
I must
go now and I want you to be ready in one hour.  I can control the clock
from
the other room and when I feel you are earning it, I will start it.  If
you let
me down then our little game is over for good and you can go home --
without
the pictures, of course -- they will go in the mail," he added with an
evil
grin.

      He left Ann crumpled on the floor in a sobbing heap and went out
the
door.

      Shortly afterwards, Sidney came in, he stood over her shaking form
for a
moment and then gently lifted her to her feet by one arm.

      "Mr. Schroeder has asked me to prepare you," he said, a little
more
warmth in his voice than usual.

      "Oh, Sidney, I can't do it," she moaned as he led her into the
small room
with the dressing table.

      "I don't think you have a choice, Madam," he answered as he sat
her at
the dressing table and began combing her long blonde hair out into its
full
length beauty again.  He worked with her for about a half an hour, even
applying her make-up for her, until she was presentable again and the
marks of
her crying had disappeared.

      "Mr. Jason, the man who is coming enjoys this perfume, madam," he
said as
he dabbed it lightly over the critical places on Ann's body.  She
noticed that
his touch was almost womanly and her nudeness didn't seem to affect him
as it
did most men.  He maintained a aloofness that could only lead Ann to
suspect
that he had other tendencies than a desire for women.

      "What -- what shall I do, Sidney?" she asked, her own mind empty
from the
constant humiliations she had been subjected to.

      "I would suggest that madam goes along with the desires of the
gentleman,
I would not risk displeasing Mr. Schroeder again if I were she."

      "But I just can't, knowing other people will be watching.  Does
Mr. Jason
know it too?"

      "Certainly, Madam, Mr. Schroeder has brought him in to teach you a
lesson.  He uses him often to punish those who have been uncooperative.
Mr.
Jason is not a kind man.  I would suggest that one of these might help,"
he
said pointing at the tray of hashish.  "The gentlemen is, to be quite
frank, a
brutal pig and madam may need the consolation."

      With this intelligence Sidney completed her toilet and left her
alone,
reminding her that Jason would arrive within fifteen minutes.


-- 
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
\ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/>    .../assm/faq.html> /