Thread: Blackmailed!  (Jack Stalker and Crazy Writer)

Hugh almost came hard from the sound of the paddling, the sound of submission and obedience as Rosamund continued to paddle and sank her own sweet taut ass, her firm ass cheeks and buttocks quivering from the impacts, the sound filling his ears as it echoed through his earpiece. The heated flesh shivering as each shocking abusive strike sent not only a shudder through her body but a violent jolt of pleasure through his own cock as he watched with supreme lust and satisfaction. She should not have been a lawyer, she should have been a whore, her flesh wasted doing anything else but servicing the desires of a man. Servicing his desires. His cock was hard enough now to plunge balls deep into even a hole as tight as hers, plundering the flooded channels of her body, ramming in deep and hard and fast. Yet he didn't have to simply imagine her defilement and desecration, he could see it developing with his own two eyes, on the vast screen in front of him.. He considered standing up and simply blowing his orgasm across the screen, painting her features indirectly with gouts of thick cum, but he wanted his first ejaculation to burn her insides, to scorch across her skin, to drip from her lips. He wanted her to feel the heat of his seed and know that she had been claimed and marked, had been soiled and stained with his fluids and that now she was his slave. So he restrained himself, calming his insane lust back down to controllable levels. No, that's fine for now you can leave off the clamps, but the use of lube other than your own secretions or spit is for good girls who know how to follow their instructions. You can lower your dress of course, but you won't be wearing the coat when you're sitting down, obviously. I want people to see you, to see your incredible legs, your exposed thighs, your calves straining as they are lifted by those 'fuck me' heels. I want them to wonder about who you are there to meet. Wonder about whether you have been stood up, or whether you like to dress as a slut and go out to restaurants to cock tease men and make women soak themselves with envy or lust. They can wonder away, but you won't be wondering will you Rosamund, because you know that there is a man waiting to fuck you at the end of it all, to toy with you, to use your flesh to make him cum and in turn to force a strangled orgasm out of your own throat. You know that, don't you, you know that your wicked path has led to this, to this punishment and payment. Don't worry, it'll all be over soon and you will be able to go back to your wretched ways, but never knowing when or how harshly you will be used again in the future. he hissed, his words dripping with arrogance, confidence, a simmering violent lust and depravity waiting to be unleashed completely. Yes, head to the restaurant. he told her. Of course on the way he increased the buzzing in her cunt, the throb of the vibe against her inner walls and the folds of her cunny increasing. Then he would ease off, playing with the thing quietly as he moved to the restaurant himself and took up a position which allowed him to observe her without drawing attention. The place was packed out of course, but he had made his own arrangements and there would be no issue of being disturbed. The food was top quality, the service matched, the view was of a sprawling glowing metropolis and the decor was sharp, refined, but minimalistic. Square plates, silver and white colours scheme, low lighting, large spaces between tables. Whenever Rosamund needed to interact with one of the waitresses, or the concierge, then the buzzing in her cunt was intensified. Otherwise it came in warm erratic pulses, as he saw fit, pushing her, then drawing back, teasing her, then easing off. Relentlessly the device buzzed and twisted and pulsed in her tight cunt, while assaulting her clit at the same time. He relished her abuse and intended to keep it up all night if he had to. Of course he interrupted her meal a few times. First with a sub vocalised command ringing in her ear. Wait for a opportunity. You have five minutes to pull down your dress and expose one of her tits. From his table in the shadows he would have a good view, though the cameras which he had installed, and which flickered on his tablet, would afford him the perfect angle anyway. Second, he would instruct her to Get more comfortable, pull your dress up until your panties are almost exposed, until there is barely an inch left to cover your long fuck worthy legs. he whispered, his eyes alternately glued to screen and reality. The plug in her ass and the throbbing merciless pulsing in her cunt would assault her without mercy, once dessert came. Then he issued his final instructions. You will finish your dessert, then grip the table and push the device in your filthy, drenched cunt out until it tumbles to the floor. At which pint you will ask a waitress to hand it to you, before you retire to the bathroom to reinsert it. he told her. Naturally he would be waiting for her there. There was no issue of problems with the staff or patrons of course, after all, he had employed all of them for this very evening.