Stocking Tales: Blackmailed Wife

God, I wish I could get a hold of Tyler. I quickly called him again as my stomach turned. Again, no answer, which only added to my frustration.

I had no idea what to say. So I didn't respond, hoping to get some time to talk to Tyler and somehow figure out who had these compromising pictures of me.

Another picture (from the same timeframe of the strap-on picture when I had dyed my hair pink to feel younger), another text:

Is this what you wore to work today?

I again ignored the texts as I drove home.

I almost got into an accident when I received another text.

I ignored it.

Another text.

I turned the radio up and focused on the road.

Once I got home, I went in the house and called Tyler once again.

When he didn't answer, I left another message:

Please, please, please call me!!!

Although I didn't want to, I clicked on the missed messages.

Another picture and a couple messages. This photo much more recent, having been taken just last month when I did a naughty Skype video for Tyler. That said, there were no pictures taken of this.

'Oh, fuck!' This is a capture from a video.

The messages:

Good news, slut! My dick is bigger than your dildo and your husband. I'm sure you will love it in that cock sucking mouth of yours, that sweet inviting cunt, and that apparently willing ass.

And the more you ignore me, the more likely it is I may put some of these online for the world to see.

I was completely rattled.

My life was potentially over. Tears streamed down my face as reality set in.

Again, I wondered how this person, now clearly a male, could have these private photos. How careless had Tyler been? Or was it my fault somehow? Was my computer compromised? I grabbed a bottle of wine, poured myself a glass and downed half of it as if it was water.

I was about to respond, when another text and message came.

This may be the kinkiest picture I have ever seen. Is there anything you won't do?

"Shit," I cursed to myself.

This was a one-time thing (well two, actually) when I was completely drunk just a couple of months ago. Tyler, after a lengthy fucking and coming all over my tits, needed to piss and I offered him to piss in my mouth, wanting to try something new. The nasty task was exhilarating and humiliating, yet something I enjoyed... the taste even surprisingly pleasant. That said, I would never do that sober... I don't think.

Yet, looking at the picture for the first time... I did indeed look like a dirty slut.

Fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck!

Another picture; another text. This one also quite recent as I tried to go back to the 1950s vintage pin-up look that Tyler loved.

Why not more photos like this... in nylons. The first ones you send me better be in stockings.

My eyes went wide.

He was expecting me to send him pictures!

Fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck!

Another picture, another text.

Like seriously, how many of these did he have?

This one was after a school girl role play where he came on me once and made me wear it on my face until he was hard again and shot a second load all over me.

You better respond back soon or I'll take that as an indicator you are okay with having your compromising photos all over the internet. Like this one. Seriously, how much cum does your husband shoot?

I had no idea what to say.

My face was pale as a ghost, even though I was fuming with the hatred of a million fires inside.

Fuck! Where the hell was Tyler?

Worried he wasn't bluffing, I asked:

What do you want from me?

He texted back with another picture and a message:

Isn't it obvious? My own online pet. Plus, you already have the leash and collar.

I sighed.

Another compromising photo. This time of me in slight bondage as my husband actually led me around the house like a puppy. That role play was humiliating, which somehow made it equally as stimulating.

Thankfully, the picture he sent didn't have me crawling around like a dog. Although, he likely had more photos of me in this collar and leash.

Oddly, as I recalled these crazy nights of sexual submission and role playing, my pussy got wet. I shook my head as I focused on my current predicament.

I was being blackmailed.

I had no idea by who.

I had no clue how he had got a hold of all these pictures and likely video.

I had no idea what his objective was. Being his online pet wouldn't be the end of the world, if I could guarantee he wouldn't release any of these pictures or video or any new ones he made.

Christ. Was I really thinking I would submit to this stranger?

I really was stressed to the core.

Adding to the frustration was Tyler not responding to my calls. Where the hell was he?

Compounding the frustration was the fact I couldn't call any of my friends. They knew nothing about this side of me.

Before I could respond, even though I had no idea what I was going to say, another photo and another text:

I think we could have some fun role playing. Your husband is gone lots and I have lots of free time to give you the attention you obviously crave and need.

I can be the prisoner who teaches a cop a lesson, for example.

Another photo from a while ago. Actually one of the first costumes I had bought to surprise Tyler when he came home after a long trip.

The handcuffs were a fun touch. First on him as I sucked his cock and rode him for my own personal pleasure. Then later on me as he took turns fucking my pussy and ass, even trying something new at one point as he fisted my pussy slightly while fucking my ass.

I texted back, hoping there was an easy way out:

Is it money? I can pay.

He replied back almost immediately, with another photo, one of me with a mouthful of cum, which could have been from any number of role play nights and another message:

Oh, you will pay. With those three fuck holes of yours.

And I'll pay by depositing my load in that hungry mouth of yours.

You must be starving for some cum by now!

I got even more worried. Was he implying even more than just online?

Suddenly pleasing him online seemed like not only a feasible idea, but a good option.

I texted back:

What would you expect of me?

He responded back:

Online obedience.

I texted back:

What does that even mean?

He responded back:

You're a teacher, you understand exactly what I mean. I tell you to do something and you do it. Just imagine I am the teacher and you are the student.

I sighed to myself.

What choice did I have?

Suddenly my cell rang.

"Tyler, thank God," I greeted, frantic.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"No," I replied, instantly beginning to cry.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Between tears and snorts, I don't cry well, I explained everything that happened.

There was a long silence at the end of the line.

"Well, say something," I demanded, as another text came, which I ignored.

"This is my fault," he said, his voice sounding broken.

"Tell me," I demanded, needing to know how.

"When I realized I didn't have my phone this morning I assumed I left it in the hotel. Yet, now that I really think about it, my hotel room key was with my cell phone," he said.

That explains why he hadn't returned my calls. I asked, even though I knew the answer, "Please tell me you didn't have photos of me on your phone that you shouldn't."

"I do," he said, his voice dripping with guilt. "But that isn't the worst part."

"What could be worse?" I asked, terrified to know.

"I will know when I get to the hotel, but I am guessing he broke into the hotel room and took my laptop," he said.

"Oh God," I said, completely deflated.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he cursed.

"And you have lots of pictures on there of me?" I asked, again knowing the answer, the evidence pretty clear.

"Quite a few," he whispered.

"Define 'quite a few'," I said, my tone terse.

"All of them," he answered.

"Like all, all?" I asked, the terrible situation getting worse.

"Yes," he whispered, so quiet I barely heard him.

"And the videos?" I asked, again assuming the obvious.

"Yes, those too," he admitted.

Another text.

"The asshole is texting me," I said, venom in my tone now.

"What is he saying now?" Tyler asked.

"I don't know, it's probably more compromising pictures or demands," I snapped, as I clicked on the update on my phone to check.

It was indeed another photo and a message. Two actually.

It was a photo of a role play earlier this year when we redid Pirates of the Caribbean.

This photo was tame compared to earlier ones sent.

His texts were:

This looks like a fun role play.

I'm guessing you have a lot of outfits to perform in for me.

I said to Tyler, "Another fucking picture."

"Of me in the pirate's costume," I answered.

"That isn't that bad," he said.

"He fucking sent one of me with my mouth open catching your urine," I snapped, frustrated even more by his lack of urgency.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he repeated.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"At the conference, at a payphone," he answered.

"Well, get a cab and get back to the hotel so you can find out if it's been stolen," I said.

"Okay," he said, "I'll call you when I get back to the hotel."

"Hurry," I demanded, and hung up.

Another picture and another text.

I couldn't even recall when this one was taken.

His text:

This seems to be a position you should regularly be in for me. That way all three of your fuck-holes are available for me.

I texted back:

You stole my husband's computer! We are going to the police.

He replied back with a flurry of texts:

First, your husband shouldn't leave his hotel card with his phone.

Second, your husband should have a better password than 1234.

Third, you probably shouldn't pose like such a slut; you likely also shouldn't film pornographic videos... although the couple I have watched have been very enjoyable. I mean, for a teacher you sure can pull off porn star.

Fourth, if you call the cops at all, I will send these pictures and videos online and you will be an overnight porn sensation.

Like how would your principal and your board feel about pictures such as this one:

I stared at the picture. One I hadn't seen before, even though I recalled the role play encounter. I often deep throated Tyler, but this was the first time I took it all in and just held a pose. As usual, it was a slutty act, which, as usual, turned me on.

That said, looking at the picture, which was undoubtedly me, like most of the other pictures he had already sent, I knew if any of these got out I would be unemployed instantly and not hirable in the teaching system anywhere in the city, state and, likely, country. Christ, its likely I wouldn't get a teaching job anywhere in the world.

Except maybe Van Nuys, where a majority of the porn movies were filmed (don't even ask how I know such a thing).

Another text and picture. This one another of the humiliating kind. The only other time I had drunk piss, again quite intoxicated, although this was just a couple of weekends ago, after being in the hot tub:

Or this?

Then another text and picture:

Or this?

A picture of me dressed up a little goth like and my face covered in cum, although a lot more was on the floor. Which he made me lick up after, as he pointed out I should never waste his cum.

The litany of pictures continued:

Or this? Do you like being choked?

I remembered this picture and it is the one thing that at first I didn't like.

Another text, this time without a picture.

These, of course, are just a few of the nasty ones. There are pictures of that pussy, pictures with cock in all three of your holes and even a picture of your husband, I assume its your husband, fisting you.

PS: You can sure take a lot up that cunt of yours!

Mortified, I texted:

Please, stop.

He texted back:

I expect you in nylons and ready to Skype in five minutes or the website I discussed goes live. Be sure to check it out if you wish. I already have purchased the domain.

I was freaking out.

I quickly checked my computer and typed in the url I couldn't forget... being my name and all.

Sure enough it existed.

With a construction sign.

Fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck!

I had no choice.

He texted me back, asked for my Skype name, and I reluctantly gave it to him.

I found an outfit that I thought was sexy, yet not too edgy, and had stockings.

I then waited with trepidation, turning my Skype on.

A chill of anxiety went up my back when the annoying Skype sound came on.

I took a deep breath and pressed the button.

There was no image of him, but I heard his voice... slightly distorted.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"What?" I asked, not even pretending to hide my contempt.

"Are those nylons?" he questioned.

"You said stockings," I pointed out.

"No," he said, "I said nylons. Fishnets are for prostitutes. Are you a prostitute?"

"No," I said, tersely, anger bubbling inside me quickly.

"Good, because I have no intention of paying you," he said. "Although based on the toys on your bed, I'm assuming that you were getting pretty excited."

I responded, making it crystal clear that was not the case, "That was just from last night." The truth was this was the spare bedroom, where I often Skyped with Tyler at night because it's where the computer was. My laptop was so slow that it often froze up, which was why I was using it now... hoping for a bad connection.

"Either way," he said, "I am logging off and will be back on in five minutes and I expect you in nylons."

"Fine!" I snapped, making my point.

"Be good, Daisy, or your photos and videos go viral," he warned and logged off.

"Fuck!" I cursed, as I began getting undressed.

I went to my dresser and realized I didn't have many sheer nylons. Most were patterned, although I did have a white pair from my wedding four years ago. I also had a beige pair.

I grabbed the beige stockings, hooked them to a garter-belt and changed into a less slutty, but sexy, outfit. I figured I had to play nice at least until Tyler called.

I moved to the couch in another room, set-up my laptop and waited.

When he returned, he immediately approved. "That is much better."

"I'm happy you like," I sarcastically said, as I dangled the heel of my shoe, trying not to look at the computer.

"I'd avoid the sarcasm, slut," he said firmly. "I'm a patient man, but you are already pushing my limits."

"Sorry," I said, deciding to play along as best I could.

"Now let me see those toes," he ordered.

I allowed my heel to drop and asked, "You mean these toes?"

"Very nice," he approved, "and painted too."

"I'm happy you like," I lied.

"Good girl," he said, not catching on to my lie.

"Are we done here?" I asked.

"Not even close," he laughed.

"I am expecting a call from my husband," I said.

"I bet you are," he said, "but at the moment you should be focused on being my online pet."

"Fine," I sighed.

"Now let me see both of your legs and feet in those sexy nylons," he ordered.

I slipped out of my other heel and moved to show both feet.

"No, no, no," he said, annoyed. "Get on your back and put your feet in the air."

"Fine," I said, annoyed. "Is this better?" I asked.

"Very nice," he approved. "You have very sexy legs."

"Thanks," I said. Although I was being blackmailed and this guy was a fucking creep, I did like compliments.

"Those are some sexy nylons too," he said.

"I wore them for a wedding last year," I said, not sure why I thought this was information he needed to know.

"I'm sure Tyler approved," he said.

"How do you know my husband's name?" I asked.

"Same way I know where you work," he answered. "Google."

"Yep, the internet is the perfect place to stalk," I quipped.

"I suppose that is true," he chuckled softly.

"Now massage one foot," he said.

"Okay," I said, the order rather strange.

"Yes," he groaned.

Fuck! Was he jerking off to me?

Shit! Of course he was.

I massaged my foot for a minute, which actually felt nice. I loved when Tyler massaged my feet.

"Now let me see the sole of your stocking foot," he ordered.

I thought 'this guy is fucked up', but obeyed as so far this Skype session was rather PG.

"I want a better look," he said. "move your camera above you."

"How?" I asked.

"Put it on top of the TV stand and angle the computer down," he ordered.

'How would he know that?' I thought to myself.

I asked the question. "How do you know I have a TV stand there?"

"Do you?" he asked.

"Yes, but," I began, but was cut off.

"Just do it," he ordered. "I don't have all day."

"Fine," I again sighed, stood up and moved the laptop to a new position. It took a couple of tries, but I got the laptop in the right position.

"Good, now show me that sole. Put your foot right up in the air."