Blackmailed Bride Ch. 14

On Saturday, Tanner came with me to Shizuko's house and watched me pose for the painting. Having him watch as I lay naked in the fantasy setting we'd created aroused me. My pubic lips became engorged with blood and I sensed them open and moisten enough, drops of my juices trickled down to my ass. When Suki stopped to make lunch, I dragged Tanner into the bedroom and let him fuck me hard. Suki heard my screams of pleasure. She laughed at me when we came out to eat. As soon as we got home after she finished for the day, we threw off our clothes and got in a sixty-nine. Tanner made me cum and cum until he exploded in my mouth. Never since my nightmare started had I felt so free, so in control of my destiny.

It was the Thursday after when my blackmailer contacted me again.

Turn left into the WalMart parking lot. Look for the white van.

I drove right on past. I got an angry text a minute later.

Bitch! Turn around immediately if you don't want everyone to learn what a slut you are.

You follow me home, Oliver, and we'll discuss it.

It was only 3:00 and Tanner wasn't due home for over three hours. I continued driving. I didn't receive any more texts, by which I assumed he followed. I was fairly confident he was. I got home and prepared. I was sitting calmly on the couch when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in; the door's open."

He stuck his head through the door, saw me sitting quietly on the couch and entered.

"I like my sluts naked and on their knees," Oliver said.

"I like my blackmailers dead and bleeding on the floor," I replied. "Let's see which one happens today, shall we, Oliver."

"So, you know who I am," he said, sneering.

"Who you are, where you live, where you work. I know lots of things about you, Oliver. Why don't you take off your mask? I already know what you look like."

He pulled back his hoodie and removed the mask covering his head and eyes.

"I want you to turn over all your photos and videos to me," I said.

"I don't think so."

I pulled out a gun from between the couch cushions beside me and pointed it at him.

"I disagree," I said.

He started and his eyes opened a wee bit wider. "Do you even know how to pull the trigger?"

"One thing all fathers teach their daughters in South Alabama, is how to shoot," I said.

I tossed him a folded up piece of paper. He opened it up to reveal a paper silhouette target. The light blue Twinkie at center mass had twelve holes in it. Four more were within one inch.

"This is the target from the last time I went shooting. The distance was ten yards or thirty feet. You're ten feet away. Every one of my shots would be in the bulls eye at this range. This is a Smith and Wesson, M&P 2.0 .40 caliber automatic. The only safety is the one in the trigger. It has fifteen rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber. It's loaded with CorBon 135 grain jacketed hollow point ammunition with a muzzle velocity of roughly 1350 feet per second. They expand upon contact with your body and leave a hole twice the size exiting, as it made going in. Either you give me what I want or one of us is going to die here. I would prefer it to be you."

"I don't think so," the bastard said.

"Have it your own way," I replied and raised the gun to eye level.

"How are you going to explain it to the police?" Oliver asked.

"Criminal broke into my apartment while I was alone here, shot in self defense."

"That might work, under normal circumstances. I don't think the police will buy it this time."

I lowered the gun. "Why not?"

"If I die for any reason, every video and picture I have will be released to the public and the police. After the police look at you sucking my cock, getting fucked in the ass and cunt by me, screaming to be fucked; I doubt that explanation would hold much water. In fact, it would leak like a fucking sieve. Not only does it negate your criminal breaking in theory, every one you know is going to find out what a fucking whore you are."

"It might be worth it." I raised the gun again.

"Wait!" Oliver said. "Why? Have I harmed you? Hurt you in any way? Haven't you received pleasure from our fucking?"

"You said it yourself. You turned me into a whore. I was a virgin on my wedding night. I'd never had sex with anyone, not even a blow job before you entered my life. Every second of every day, I worry my husband, whom I love with all my heart, will find out what I've done. Every time I'm with you, it gets worse. The likelihood he will ever forgive me is impossible. Receiving pleasure from fucking you only made me despise myself more. I see no end in sight. You can keep doing this to me forever and I have no guarantee he won't find out anyway, ruining my marriage. If it's going to be ruined, I prefer to ruin it now, my way, before it gets worse. I have no desire to live my life this way."

"What if it didn't have to be that way?"

I lowered the gun. "What are you talking about?"

"This is a case of Mutually Assured Destruction; like nuclear war. If I ever reveal any information about what you've done, you'd have every reason to kill me and none to control yourself. If you kill me, all your information is revealed. Neither of us gets what we want. I will make an agreement with you for our arrangement to continue no later than New Years, no more than once weekly, and always with at least three days advance notice. If you agree, your husband will never find out, and this will all be over in about ten months time."

"Why me? Why pick me? Why not pick someone who enjoyed multiple partners, who was already a slut? Why me?"

"Because you were a virgin. There is more magic associated with debauching a virgin."

"What magic? You're not talking about that ridiculous sex magic associated with your supposed father, Aleister Crowley, are you? What a bunch of bunk."

"You did do some research, didn't you?"

"I know your birth certificate claims Aleister as your father, even though he died in 1947 and you weren't born until 1986. More delusions of grandeur."

"My mother claimed his semen was preserved through sex magic. If you've seen pictures of Aleister, you know how similar my appearance is to him. Is it bunk?" Oliver asked. "I was born into poverty. You know where I live now. I believe my wealth to be obtained through sex magic; sex magic gained through perverting virgins such as yourself."

"Mere happenstance and coincidence. More likely to do with you associating any success you had with your faulty belief system than real sex magic."

"Nevertheless, I believe it and my offer stands. A little less than ten more months of your submission to me, no more than once weekly with advance notice, after which you're free of me and I return all incriminating evidence of your debauchery to you and your husband never finds out. Or kill me and the world knows of your perversion, lasting for all time on the internet. Your husband, your parents, your friends, the police, will all know of your depravity. You'll be arrested and stand trial for my murder and everyone will believe you killed me to preserve your reputation. The choice is yours."

I thought about his offer. It was so tempting to put a dozen bullets through his head and be done with him. I was so angry with what he'd done to me, and still wanted to do to me; for ten more months. It had been horrible and I despised him and despised myself for enjoying it. He was right about one thing, though. If I killed him, I might as well kill myself right after. At least I wouldn't have to face the blizzard of bad publicity to follow; arrest, trial, the world knowing what I'd done from my wedding day on. The multitude of cocks I'd sucked and fucked; the mind blowing orgasms as I was double penetrated, my cunt licking. I'd lived with it for about three months already; could I live with three times longer.

"Get out," I said.

"Do we have a deal?" Oliver asked.

"If I'm naked and kneeling the next time you see me, we have a deal. If you receive a bullet to the brain, you'll know we don't."

"I'll be in touch in about a week."

Once again, I was stuck in limbo. I didn't know what to do. My relationship with Tanner suffered. I pictured myself submitting to Oliver, permitting my body to be used for whatever perversions he could dream up. He had certainly made it clear from both his words and his actions, he intended to subject me to all manner of corruption and immorality in order to work his sex magic. I didn't believe in it, but he certainly seemed to think he gained more power from debauching me, turning me into a slut or whore, than he would having sex with a regular slut or whore, and I could expect more of the same. I worried if I could remain myself if I allowed myself to be the object of more of his depravity.

I received a text on Monday.

I will be at your apartment at 9:00 Thursday morning. Leave the door open.

Wednesday night, I still didn't know what I was going to do. Tanner was increasingly frustrated with my shortness, my taciturnity, my unwillingness to talk or communicate my issues with him. I'd been a bitch for almost a week and he was sick of it. I didn't blame him. I was sick of it too, and still had no idea what to do. He slept in the guest bedroom. I was sad. I may have surrendered the last time I'd ever be able to sleep with him or make love to him. He left before I woke up, tired from my week of misery and indecision and lack of sleep.

At eight-forty five, I took out the gun, loaded it and set it on the floor. At eight-fifty, I removed my clothes. At eight-fifty five, I knelt on the floor, the gun beside me. At eight-fifty nine, I still didn't know what I was going to do. At nine o'clock, he walked through the open door. The gun remained on the floor. He glanced at it, realizing how close it had been. He smiled his cruel smile.

"Good girl, slut. Crawl over here and suck my cock."

"Yes, sir."

I crawled across the floor.

******