The Blackmailer’s Toy

The cold of the cement pillar seeped into Kathy’s hands as she leant against it, but she kept them in place. Ass thrust out, panties around her legs just like he’d instructed, the pervert, whoever he was.

Harsh fluorescent lights created pools of light and aggressive shadows in the parking garage. A hostile, unwelcoming, environment. If anyone came down to this level, they would see her and the cute Princess plug stretching her ass. Also, his instruction.

She itched to just yank at her skirt and pull it back down her thighs, but he might be watching. At least it was late, there was likely no one left in the office. No one to see her humiliation. This was all so wrong, but a tiny, traitorous part of her was curious what would happen next.

Footsteps. She tensed, every muscle in her body screaming to run, but she kept her hands on the pillar, not even looking around. His instructions had been very clear, delivered in clipped, emotionless texts, and the consequences of disobedience too great to risk. It was strange, though, that she hadn’t called, hadn’t wanted to hear her beg. She’d been so stupid, so careless. One too many drinks, one compromising photo sent to a stranger, and now this.

The footsteps echoed around the empty space, moving slowly and steadily closer. Kathy bit her lip, trembling as her heart thumped, trying to escape her chest. She could only guess what he had planned, but in this position, it seemed obvious. It’s just sex, Kathy, it’s not like you haven’t done it before. The words echoed, hollow and unconvincing, in her head. It wasn’t just sex, it wasn’t just fantasy anymore.