Humbled and Blackmailed

NOTE: This story does not reflect the author's views. It is merely an exercise in certain taboo topics and fetishes. The author does not endorse these actions or attitudes.

*

"Please, Mom!"

Heather sighed. She hated to argue with her only daughter, but this was asking too much.

Heather and Valerie were on a road trip to visit a college that Valerie and Kent were both interested in attending. It was a four-day trip, and Heather had hoped it could lead to some nice bonding time with her daughter, until she'd begged her mother to bring Kent along.

Kent would certainly have seemed like quite a catch. The youngest son in a well-to-do military family, Kent was handsome, fit, and charming as a songbird when he wanted to be. Of course, Heather had dealt with enough arrogant young bullies in her life to know that he was the worst kind of man; his attitude towards women, framed as dark humour, was appallingly sexist. He made no apologies about being a Republican, and that alone would have been enough for Heather to dump him. Valerie had other standards, however, and she began dating Kent in high school.

Heather hoped that it was just a rebellious phase for her daughter, but it was three years later, and they were still together. Kent had become a familiar sight around the house, and Valerie's younger brothers even looked up to Kent! The thought made Heather want to vomit.

She alone seemed to sense Kent's nature, or at least be bothered by it. She noticed the falseness of his manners, the quick glances he made as he examined her body, or the knowing looks in his eyes when he made a comment which sounded innocent, but always had a double meaning.

It had not been an easy three years. Heather was a proud feminist, and believed in progressive parenting, but even she felt her line being crossed by this toxic male influence on her family's lives. She'd yelled and argued with her daughter, but Valerie was hopelessly in love, and ran into Kent's arms whenever Heather tried to persuade her to reconsider. Kent seemed to sense his growing power over the family too, for he stopped being quite so charming to her. They even began arguing and bickering with each other whenever Valerie wasn't around, usually about politics. Even the lightest of jokes from Kent felt like a personal assault in Heather's mind, and he clearly knew what he was doing. She sensed his amusement at how easily he could trigger her, and that made her hate him even more.

For there was another reason why Heather did not want him around.

Heather and her ex-husband had had a short, unhappy marriage, unable to stay together even for their kids' sakes. One reason had been bedroom troubles. Ted had never been an adventurous guy in bed, and he'd never even cared whether she'd orgasmed or not. Heather had tried to get him to try out more kinks, but his resistance and apathy ended that hope quickly. The truth was too much for Heather to admit, even to her own husband. Through her exploration from her teens into her twenties, Heather had made alarming discoveries about herself. At least, they'd seemed alarming when stacked up against her personal moral code and her politics.

She got an incredible amount of pleasure from bondage, but that was just half the story. Being tied and gagged during sex was thrilling, but it wasn't quite enough for her. She fantasized about being captured by her worst enemies, humiliated and embarrassed and degraded by them. The thought of one (or more!) men using her with impunity as she was too helpless to resist was the taboo fantasy which she thought of most frequently, and never dared openly discuss with anyone.

For years, she'd kept her fetishes a secret from almost everyone, though since her divorce, she'd been able to explore them much more often. She now had a large collection of sex toys, bondage equipment, and stimulating literature hidden in her room, as well as several custom videos she'd commissioned as anonymously as possible.

Kent represented everything she hated most about men, and it galled her to see him so close to her gorgeous, athletic, and independent baby girl. What did she see in him? Heather worried that it was the same urge which she felt in herself, the urge which she tried so hard to hide from the world. She could only guess, however; she never felt comfortable talking about these desires with her own child. Moreover, she knew how people like Kent would misinterpret these desires and use them as a carte blanche. What scared Heather most about this idea was how much her body would enjoy the degradation despite her own outrage and protests.

All of this played in her mind as she'd walked the college with the young couple, wondering what sort of things Kent was doing to her daughter behind closed doors. She was too smart to forbid them having sex while they were travelling, but she'd made a big show about not having enough money to pay for two hotel rooms for over a week (that was a lie, of course; her divorce from Ted had been a sizeable one, and she'd invested that money wisely to set herself up so she'd only have to work part-time). Kent, however, had foiled her again; he'd made a call to his parents and they'd readily given their spoiled son whatever funding he needed to pay for a separate hotel room, and Valerie had spent each night with him.

"Valerie, you're not feeling well, we should stay here and look after you!" Heather pleaded, hoping that her daughter might take the hint.

She was disappointed. "Mom, I can take care of myself, I'm going to be sleeping like a baby tonight!" Valerie pointed to the bottle of pills beside her bed. They'd brought them just in case someone got sick, like Valerie had from the diner where they'd eaten supper.

Heather ground her teeth, but there was no way she could gracefully bow out of this evening without creating drama between herself and Valerie.

They were in a small pit stop of a town, which seemed to be comprised of a cheap motel, three diners, two gas stations, and a pool hall which doubled as a bar. Kent and Valerie had suggested to Heather that the three of them enjoy some weed cookies that they'd brought along and then go play pool together. Now it would be just her and Kent, and she was disgusted at the idea of spending so much time with him, even if she would be high most of the time.

That evening, as she got ready in her own room, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" Heather called out as she took the motel key and her credit card from her purse and put them discreetly inside her bra. She was dressed casually, wearing pants that weren't too tight or too baggy, and a buttoned-up blouse which fully covered her large bust. She wasn't interested in attracting any male attention, least of all at a seedy-looking place

Kent walked in, a small polite smile on his face. Even Heather had to acknowledge that Kent was handsome. He kept himself in good shape, his brown hair was always short and neatly combed, his teeth were straight and white, while his eyes were a startling hazel colour which seemed almost orange in certain light. However, he wasn't particularly tall; in fact, due to Heather's surprising height, they both saw eye-to-eye at 5'10.

Now he held up a weed cookie for her, "Want to have it now? It probably won't kick in for a half hour at least."

Forcing herself to be civil, Heather gave a nod, "Thank you, Kent."

As she ate the cookie, she looked puzzled at him, "Where's yours?"

"I already had mine," Kent answered, even as he opened the door for her.

The pool hall wasn't far from the motel; it was practically five minutes walk away. As they made their way over, Heather absentmindedly felt her dark brown bangs to ensure they weren't messy, "So, what did you think of the college?"

Kent shrugged, "Not so bad. Kind of tame and modest, but Valerie really likes it."

Heather tried not to roll her eyes at this answer. What false modesty! Sacrificing his desire for a more prestigious school just to make her daughter happy! She saw through his bullshit, but she wasn't going to make waves. She wanted her daughter to be happy, even if it was with a man she hated.

Loud rock music assaulted their ears as they went inside the pool hall. If Heather hadn't already agreed to do this, she would have walked right out again and gone back to the motel. The pool hall was cheap quality, looking like they hadn't evolved past the 90s. There was only one employee in the place, and he was a grumpy-looking old man serving beer to just two burly customers in the place. Nobody was playing pool, but half the tables still had balls scattered across their green surfaces.

Even as they picked a table and began playing, Heather waited for the weed to kick in. How else was she going to enjoy herself in this place?

"I'll go easy on you," Kent said in what would have been a cheerful tone for anyone else, but to Heather it just sounded taunting and condescending. Two can play at that game, she thought, even as she picked a cue from the wall. She'd played enough pool over the years that she could teach him a thing or two.

After two games, Kent forgot about his pledge to go easy on Heather, and the two of them began to play more intensely. Heather also began feeling her digested weed cookie slowly taking effect inside her. Maybe tonight wasn't going to be so bad after all?

"Should I hold back for your sake?" Heather suddenly asked Kent, a fiery confidence building inside her.

Kent shrugged, "You do you, Mrs. Crofter." He always called her that, even though he knew that she'd been divorced from Valerie's father years ago. As if a woman couldn't undo a marriage and retake her own surname!

"My last name is Rutherford!" Heather said sharply, louder than she expected. Even one of the truckers gave a quick glance at them, even as Heather felt herself getting hot. Energy was building up inside her, and a prickly sensation was forming in the back of her head, always a sign that she was going to get high.

Kent smiled at her loud response, "Oh, forgive me, I didn't mean to get under your skin."

Little bastard, Heather thought, you're not even half my age. It was only when she saw a smirk on Kent's face that she realized she'd spoken her thoughts out loud. What was wrong with her?

"Can't handle that weed cookie?" Kent asked.

"Of course I can handle myself, it's just a cookie," Heather said, bending forward to take another shot. The cue ball flew wildly off course, hitting the 8 ball and sinking it right into the hole.

Despite her frustration, Heather suddenly felt herself start to laugh at what a horrible shot she'd made. Just then, the creeping prickles she felt in the back of her head seemed to consume her skull, and she felt an alarming pressure everywhere. She'd never been this high before, and the effect made her laugh aloud again.

"Might have to do with the fact that your weed cookie was three times as strong as normal!" Kent observed, even as he began racking up the balls again.

Oh fuck, Heather thought, but even as she wanted to summon outrage and panic, a song that she knew began playing loudly in the dingy pool hall, echoing into her ears. She found herself singing loudly along, trying not to look at Kent as he also began laughing. Was he high too? What happens when you get too high? How high could a person fly into the atmosphere before they couldn't breathe anymore?

She barely noticed a hand suddenly slap her ass hard, and even then, all she could do was squeal and giggle as if she was a Playboy bunny. She turned to look at Kent, who smirked wider and spanked her again, "Your shot, honey."

Of course! The game! She'd school this punk and wipe that smirk off his face. Bending forward, she prepared to take a shot, but just as she did, she felt his hand smack her ass harder than ever. This time, both the truckers at the bar turned to look at her as she squealed again. She saw them look at her with some judgmental expression before turning back to the bar, even as she gasped and turned to stare at Kent with her eyes wide, "You did that on purpose!"

Kent shrugged, "You don't seem that upset about it."

Heather sensed that he was right. He was just goofing around, clearly. And the way he'd smacked her had felt good, her body was responding to it. Ignoring a small voice in the back of her head urging her to get some help, she simply shook her head and stepped to the side for him to take his shot.

There was no denying though that she was especially high this time. It was getting worse as they went along. She found herself unable to even speak a full sentence clearly, and even the thought of trying was making her giggle. She even laughed as Kent began groping her ass while she took her shots. Of course, it didn't matter, because she was missing each one.

"Fuck, you're terrible at this!" Kent laughed, "Is it because you're high as a kite or because you're just triggered?" He punctuated his brazen mockery with two hard slaps that made her squeal. Now the truckers were catcalling her, and she felt herself blushing. She was also sweating much more than usual.

"Hey, Mrs. Crofter!" Kent held up his phone, "Let's have some fun, ride the cue like a broomstick!"

Like a broomstick; like the wicked witch of the west. For some reason that reference seemed like the funniest thing in the world, and she was almost cackling like her as she made the pose, smiling at him. He encouraged Heather to move further up and further down the broom handle, and it only just then occurred to her that she was making a lewd gesture in public!

She laughed harder from embarrassment, even as Kevin laughed harder, "Wow, what a dumb bimbo!" he announced louder than normal, as if he was narrating something, "Hey Heather, how about something really embarrassing?"

He was so charming, for that split second before she did what she did. But it was a wonderful idea, like she was back in college enjoying a rock concert and behaving silly. Those were the days. And it made perfect sense for her to open up her blouse, and pull down her bra, making a lock of mock horror as her large, heavy breast hung down for his camera.

"Wow, Mrs. Crofter, you like showing me those udders?"

She felt herself blush harder, speechless as she felt the realization of what she was doing. She felt her nipples stiffen in the mild air, or was that something else? Whatever it was, she was too numb to stop Kent from walking over and grabbing her bare breasts.

"Awww" Heather whimpered as she felt shockwaves of pleasure pulse through her body. Kent puled on them, causing her to stumble forward with a yelp, throwing her arms off for balance.

In a sudden movement, Heather felt Kent release her breasts, and grab her arms, pulling them behind her back, and cuffing them her wrists together! Heather gasped, eyes wide as she was spun around, mouth open as she saw the two truckers staring at her body, then laughing as she moaned again trying to process that she was cuffed.

"I brought some toys from your bedroom!" Kent whispered gleefully into her ear as she suddenly felt something pushed into her mouth.

"MMMPPH!" Heather felt her voice go shrill, yet muffled by the large baby's pacifier bulb filling her mouth. It was pink, secured behind her head with ribbons, and she had never looked so humiliating before in her life as she sucked on the pacifier in alarm.

He knew her fetishes, he had raided her privacy, he had gotten her very high and horny when she couldn't think straight, he had tied and gagged her in public, and now he was pull her tops down so she was completely topless.

"Hey boys!" Kent shouted eagerly, "Want to share this saggy old gal between us? Call it a fair exchange for the pool table and another two rounds?"

The truckers roared their enthusiasm, saying things that Heather was only barely listening to. Words like "heifer" "woman-child", and more words when the bartender gave the thumbs up, and she felt Kent suddenly push her towards a pool table.

One of the truckers came up and pulled her pants and panties down, so that she couldn't do anything with her legs. "MMMMMM" Heather snarled in fury and alarm as Kent led the taunts, "Jesus, Mrs. Crofter, I can't see the sun through those curtains! Is that what Valerie's gonna look like too?"

Heather snarled again as they guided her into the private office, even as she was pushed up against the desk. Her breasts flopped heavily forward onto loose paper and writing utensils. One was a large black marker.

"I'm calling Prima Nocte," Kent announced, even as he pushed himself right behind Heather and spanked her to prompt a wail, "Aw, poor baby liberal's got a tantrum building again!" The others laughed, only too happy to enjoy in this humiliation, especially because they saw permission between her legs.

She was completely wet, even in this strange and infuriating position, for she felt her body be engulfed in some visceral lust of being overpowered. It was an offensive thought, yet she could no more explain it than her instinct to resist what was happening even though she couldn't.

In a moment, she gave a low cry as she felt something large and stiff push deep inside her, sending pulse of pleasure so great in her heightened senses that she felt faint for a brief moment.

"You love this, I can tell," Kent taunted as he gripped her hips with his strong hands and thrust as hard as he could inside her. She bucked in response, groaning as her breasts swung and clapped against each other. All her senses were aflame, and she felt herself climax three times in rapid succession before Kent finally gave a bestial growl while he orgasmed into his condom.

Sweat poured from her brow as a second cock pushed inside her no sooner after the first had withdrawn. This one was rougher, cruder, and grabbed her breasts for leverage rather than her waist. She noted, even between her orgasms as the third man entered her, that they were wearing condoms at least.

Much as she loathed to admit it, much as she resisted and grunted and moaned, she could not stop herself from taking such savage pleasure in this vile act.

The four men left handprints on her breasts, her ass, her hips, and Kent found yet another way to embarrass her. He grabbed the black marker and wrote several words on her breasts. She couldn't focus on what the words wore, but she heard one of them announced by Kent as "MAGA." Phones came out and she felt frustration at this slandering of her views.

Finally, the fourth man finished, even as they returned to the bar and celebrated with a few beers. Heather was exhausted, and slowly lay down on the desk. As she finally felt herself coming down, she saw Kent come back into the room and show her the first videos he'd taken.

They made her look like she was coming onto him in the first place! Or had she? She couldn't quite remember. She was still breathing heavily from her orgasm.

"You ever cross me again, Mrs. Crofter," Kent warned, "And I show this stuff to Valerie. Maybe she'll forgive you, maybe she won't. Do you want to take that risk?"

At first, Heather felt indignation building inside her, and she began a furious tirade of muffled grunts at him, only to slowly see that he was filming her tantrum. She paused, and thought about the footage, what it showed of her, and how she'd been unable to persuade Valerie that he was a bad guy. And wasn't it humiliating enough as it was? What would everyone else say?

Faced with these consequences looming on the defiant road, Heather felt herself nodding, glaring furiously and sucking on the pacifier to stop herself from shouting again.

"Good girl!" Kent taunted, pinching one of her nipples hard enough to make her yelp, "Now let's go back to the motel!"

Heather continued to glare, waiting for him to release her, but he just began to smirk, and she knew in an instant what was going to happen now.