Blackmailing Tamar Ch. 06

Veronica was no longer sobbing but there was still a trickle of tears as she slowly began working the dildo in, and slowly out, just an inch at a time. She was most definitely not enjoying herself, but that was OK -- I was enjoying it enough for both of us. "Faster," I commanded. Her tempo increased, and with it the length of the strokes. Her tears soon dried up. Despite herself, her body began moving with the rhythm of the dildo. She automatically began working the dildo in ways which she enjoyed. Soon her breathing was deep, her eyes were closed and her reluctance was gone, though the shame kicked in every time her eyes peeked open and she was reminded that I was watching, and filling a memory card with pictures.

A few minutes later, she was genuinely enjoying herself again, the dildo becoming a blur inside her. I watched until there was no conflict any more, no shame, no awareness of her humiliation, just pure pleasure, starting on the gradual ascent to orgasm.

"Stop," I said.

She pretended not to hear me for a moment, her hand still working the dildo. I reached out and grabbed her wrist firmly, just enough to hurt. Holding her wrist, I forced her to draw the dildo from her pussy. I lay it, slick with her juices, back where it had started, between her breasts. She seemed to recoil from the cool wet touch, but her hips continued to work vainly, looking for stimulation, and she was moaning softly with a combination of frustration and humiliation. I removed my clothing and stood on the bed, straddling Veronica's chest jut below her breasts. I was hard as a rock from the events of the last few hours, and my cock was pointing directly at her face. "Take me in your hand," I said softly. "Nice and slow."

She reached up gingerly, taking hold of me with just the fingertips of her free hand, moving them back and forth just enough to rub my foreskin over the head of my cock. It was not much of a handjob, and I told her so. "That is pathetic, you feral little cunt. Your job here is to show that cock a good time. If you can't do it, I know your daughter can. Should I call her over here to show you how it is done? I can, you know."

Veronica's whole world stopped for a moment. She didn't breathe, she couldn't speak, her hand froze on my cock. I swear, even her heart stopped beating. Eventually, she whispered "You wouldn't ..."

It was more plea than prediction, and I nearly burst out laughing, knowing how close nearby her beautiful young daughter was. I answered with an evil grin: "That's up to you."

Her hand closed around my cock more firmly, and she began stroking it with something approximating enthusiasm. It was forced, of course, but that was part of the turn-on for me. The whole day had been one huge fucking turn-on, and by now I was more than ready to cum. My breathing was deep, and my attention centred on the rising pleasure building in my groin. I moaned softly, instructing Veronica to keep my cock pointed at her face. "I'm going to cum, whore, and if so much as a drop misses your face I am going to whip you so hard you won't sit down for a month." She blanched, but the fight had gone out of her. The most resistance she could offer was to reduce the intensity of her strokes, which of course did little more than prolong the pleasure for me.

The cum was boiling in my cock and I felt it rise, pleasure sweeping through me ready to burst ... literally, all over this stuck-up whore's face. I groaned, so close. "Don't miss ... one ... fucking ...drop!"

I came, hard. The first jet shot out, hitting Veronica on her forehead, almost at the hairline. It was followed by more, with less power, leaving her with a jagged line of cum all over her face. She kept jerking me until I instructed her to stop. I was heaving for breath. It felt like all the breath had been sucked out of me as I came. Fuck it was good ... the feeling of her hand, combined with the sheer intoxication of treating the two women like worthless fucking whores.

It took all of Veronica's willpower not to turn her head, to wipe it clean on the pillow. When I recovered, I slipped into the kitchen and returned with a slice of bread. Gentleman that I am, I used them to wipe the cum from her face until Veronica was all pretty again. "Open!" I commanded. Her look went from shocked, to outraged, to incredulous. I waited for her refusal, but oddly it never came. She clamped her eyes shut, and slowly opened her mouth. I folded the first slice of bread over and put the end in her mouth. "Feed yourself, whore." She took the rest of the slice, and slowly ate it. A couple of times I thought she might gag, but she choked it down fairly well in the end.

When she opened her mouth to show me she was done, I untied her and let her up. "You can go now, Veronica. You were a good girl today. Don't worry, though, I'll be using you again soon."

When she was dressed, I walked her to the door. She left, but turned on the threshold and surprised the hell out of me. In a soft voice she half whispered "thank you, sir," then turned on her heel and left in a hurry.

I was astounded. Had she really said that? Half of me wanted to chase her to find out what was going on, but the other half already knew. This was her inevitable first concession to the fact that she loved this game as much as her daughter did. Her daughter, who was still bound in the other room. I turned on my heel and opened the door to behold my younger slut, trussed up and available. HER afternoon had still just begun.