BBWs and Blackmail
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As we walked into his suite, he indicated he wanted me to stand in the middle of the living room and sat down opposite.
“Now,” he smiled, “show me what’s under that sexy little dress of yours. I’ve been dying to see it all evening!”
He reached for a manila envelope, pulled out a sheaf of photos, and tossed them on the coffee table, where they fanned out. They were all of me doing obscene things with him and Kristol. I slowly spread them out, then impulsively pushed them away and turned my head as if revolted.
“The dress,” he repeated, looking at me, his smile becoming even more wolfish.
~~~~~
Miriam’s and my trip back from our vacation in the south of France was quiet, loving, and wonderful. Those two weeks were the best I had ever had, and I will always remember them with fond longing. I had worshipped Miriam for a long time and loved her almost as long, and I had chosen to be her slave.
Yet, now she loved me, too, and my happiness was complete. I thought that nothing could possibly make my life any better.
I was wrong, as I would learn later.
But, all good things must come to an end, and after spending more time in the south of France, we drove back to Amsterdam, stopping at Lyon for a couple of days, then another two nights in Paris, doing more touristy things before returning home.
When we finally got home, Miriam helped me unload the car, which she didn’t have to do. Then I insisted that she relaxed since she had done all the driving. I drew her a bath, which she sank into with a grateful sigh while I unpacked the bags.
When I was done, without being invited, I stripped off, slid through the door of the bathroom, closed it quietly, and knelt down next to the tub. Miriam kept her eyes closed, but her mouth widened into a smile.
“I heard you come in, you little minx. What do you want now, Mouse?” And she opened her eyes, looking at me with a warm smile.
I bowed, and touched my head to the ground, knelt up again, and said, with a matching smile, “You, my wonderful, generous Mistress. Always you.”
She lifted her near hand out of the bathwater and held it out in invitation. “Then come here, you sexy slut, and let me play with you once you’re all soapy and slippery!”
She didn’t have to ask twice, and I landed in the tub with a splash while she laughed at me.
We had fun.
~~~~~
True to her word, she enrolled me in a number of things. The first was driving lessons, so she wouldn’t have to do all the driving again. And once I had passed the test to get my license, she took me out of the city onto quieter roads and taught me how to evade capture or attack in a car, and how to use a car as a weapon if necessary.
Miriam came from a wealthy family and had been raised with the understanding that there were people who might want to hurt her, or worse – kidnap her. Accordingly, her parents had a bodyguard firm teach her how to evade capture and pursuit in a car, which she now taught me.
Besides, when we were out of the city, we often took the opportunity for a little open-air sex. And if there was a chance we might be caught in the act… well, we were both strippers and exhibitionists, so that was actually kind of a turn-on for us.
We particularly liked to find a small stand of woods where there weren’t many people around. We would strip off, leave our clothes locked in the boot of the car, walk deep into the woods, then find a comfy place and do some open-air soixante-neuf.
Or Mistress would sit with her back against a tree, knees wide, and order me to bring her off while edging me until I begged to cum. She would lead me to the edge of cumming until I lost the ability to think, then keep me there while she made me watch her pleasure herself – and only then might she bring me to orgasm.
One time when we did this, she refused to allow me to cum, made me ride home naked, playing with myself the whole way while she chuckled at my agonizing need, then had me cum in the car, with the top down, in town, at a traffic light while pedestrians and other vehicles went by. By the time I came, we had started to attract a crowd… at which point Mistress slammed the BMW into gear and roared off, laughing.
She was wicked when she wanted to be!
Of course, when we got home, she dragged me upstairs to the bedroom, then made sure I came repeatedly, until I finally begged her to stop.
“Make up your mind!” she smirked at me, stroking my kitty. “Do you need to cum, or do you want me to stop?”
She also insisted that I finish my secondary school-equivalence diploma, and we talked about the results of the talent inventory, aptitude, and occupational inclination tests she’d had me take. Turned out I was likely to be good with computers. This actually made sense given my apparent talent at math and my ability to play chess at a surprising level for someone with so little experience.
So, I enrolled myself in computer classes at a local commercial school. They offered certifications in a variety of computer disciplines, once I got beyond the introductory levels, I found myself fascinated by computers and everything they could do.
It got so bad that on a couple of occasions, Mistress had to get out of bed to drag me into it. I was, and am, hooked on computers. That turned out to be very useful much later.
Plus, of course, she insisted that I continue with Tae-Kwon-Do. She also had her bodyguard firm instruct me in personal combat and defensive skills. By the time they had finished my basic instruction, I might have looked like a sex kitten, but anyone who tried anything very quickly found that De Muis had sharp claws, with or without her razor!
Meanwhile, we both went back to exotic dancing and frequenting DeCoven, especially as Mistress had responsibilities there as Grand Mistress. And I always accompanied her – and always naked, other than wearing my leather collar and leash.
Months earlier, when I realized that Mistress was wealthy, I asked why she was involved in exotic dancing and the sex trade. I also made the mistake of asking if her parents had disapproved of it.
She gave me that basilisk stare that scared the shit out of me then softened and said, “That was one of the reasons I left home, Mouse. I want to live my life, not theirs.
“As for stripping… well, where else can an exhibitionist have fun in public without getting into trouble with the police and get paid for it? I love getting naked in front of people. And you, of all people, should know how much I enjoy sex, so the sex trade is simple for me.
“Bottom line, if you’ll pardon the pun and the language, I like fucking.”
And that was the last time she talked about it… and the last time I asked.
~~~~~
But there was one thing, or rather one person, who caused ripples in the mostly placid, pleasant surface of our life after we returned: Ivan.
Kristol’s call while we were on vacation meant that I had succeeded in hooking him into our little scheme. It also meant that I had to be ready to receive him, in both senses of the word, on short notice and be prepared to deliver some juicy tidbits of information about Hans and the negotiation.
Accordingly, Mistress, Hans, his executive assistant Ilsa, and I had a series of conference calls over the next few months during which Hans would discuss what he wanted Ivan to “find out,” and the four of us would discuss it. Then, after I met with Ivan, I would be debriefed, and we would discuss the results.
But the first meeting after our vacation would tell us a lot about how well I’d been able to hook him, and I would learn a lot about what he thought and might have suspected by the way that meeting went. So, we waited for Kristol’s call, and I wondered if she’d be sexing with us this time. I actually hoped she would, as she appealed to me on several different levels.
~~~~~
Not long after we arrived home, I got a call from Ilsa, Hans’ executive assistant.
“They just received an envelope addressed to you in the Amsterdam office. They opened it at my direction, then called me. I decided to have it immediately forwarded to you.” She chuckled. “They were quite shocked by the contents. Hans and I think it means they’re going to contact you pretty soon, so be prepared.”
I told her I’d keep my eye*******-s open for it and let her know what happened.
The envelope arrived almost immediately via express courier from Hans’ office in Amsterdam, and when I opened it, there were four photos. It was classic blackmail stuff that made even me gasp, then giggle. There were two photos of me in what would, for most people, be compromising positions, one of me being butt-fucked, doggie style, with my face looking towards the camera, and the other of me on the bed, sucking Ivan’s cock while Kristol ate me out. My face was clearly visible in both.
But the last two were the killers. Somehow, they had managed to get photos of me taking €1,000 from Kristol in the car, just before she dropped me at my Berlin hotel!
There was also a note from Kristol. “Ivan would really like to see you again! Please give me a call!”
I showed the photos to Mistress. She glanced at them, focused on the one of me being sandwiched by Ivan and Kristol, smirked and said, “At least they caught your good side. You look great sucking cock while having someone eat your pussy. Perhaps I’ll try that at DeCoven,” then went back to her reading.
So, I pulled out my burner phone and rang Kristol’s number, pausing first to think about what a real Katja would say. She was an invented person, supposedly Hans’ intern, and I had been here for Ivan and Kristol in Berlin.
“Good day, this is Kristol.”
“H…hello, Kristol? This is… Katja.”
“Katja! Hello! How lovely to hear from you! How are you?”
I waited a couple of seconds, then said, “Oh… I’m… fine. How…how are you?”
“I’m very well, thank you, Katja.”
I paused for a moment, as if uncertain what to say, then took a deep, shivery breath, then made my play. “Kristol?” I said in a timorous voice.
“Yes, Katja,” she said, her voice warm.
“I got…I got some photos today. They’re…” I stopped.
“Yes?”
“They’re… disgusting. Oh, why did I go with you and Ivan? Hans wanted to take me home, and I…”
“Katja, stop it. Saying ‘If only…’ and resorting to wishful thinking never helps anything.”
“But Kristol!” I wailed, “Please don’t let anyone see these, please! They would ruin me… and what would my parents say? Oh…” I didn’t try to pretend to cry but went silent.
“Katja, calm down. Ivan has no wish to harm you. But he can be quite persistent about getting the things he wants.
“Speaking of which, he’s going to be in Den Hague in two weeks’ time, from Wednesday through Saturday of that week, and he’d like you to join him as his guest.”
I waited for a bit, then said, “And…and what would he want me to do… as his… ‘guest’?”
“Well, he’d like you to escort him to some social events, have dinners with him, and… keep him company.”
I kept silent, then, “He wants me to be… his whore?”
“That’s a very harsh word, Katja. Let’s just say he would like you to enjoy each other’s company. You know that he’s really a superb lover, right? It’ll be fun.
“It will just be you and him this time. I have responsibilities elsewhere.”
When I was silent again, she went on, “And I can guarantee you’ll have more fun than if he sends those photos to Hans and your parents. I’ve seen him be very nasty with people he’s angry with.”
When I remained silent, she went on, her voice becoming brisk, “Now, give me a mailing address for you in Amsterdam. I’ll send you train tickets, money, and instructions for that week, okay?”
I paused, then whispered, “Kristol, please…”
Now she paused. “Katja, I know this seems harsh, but it’s also an opportunity. Really. I’ve been where you are, girl, and I know. This could open a lot of doors for you, doors you don’t even suspect are there. You’re a special girl, you have an appeal that is quite rare and that attracts people, whether you realize it or not. And I’d like to work with you again… and not just with Ivan, either. We could have a lot of fun together, and you could make far more money than you are now.” She paused to let that sink in, then moved in to close the deal.
“So, I’ll tell Ivan you’re looking forward to seeing him again, shall I?”
This time, she let the silence stretch. Finally, I said, “I…I guess so. I’ll… come to Den Hague.”
Now her voice was warm. “Good girl! Ivan will be delighted to see you again. And you’ll have fun, I know, and you will be better off for it. So, look for my travel packet, and let me know when it’s arrived.
“And Katja?”
“Y…yes?”
“Relax and have fun, sweetheart. He’s loaded, and he doesn’t mind spending money on people he likes, okay? And bring some sexy clothes. It makes him happy, and he’s always easier to manage when he’s happy.
“Take care, now, girl! ’Bye!”
I interpreted that last bit as meaning he didn’t mind spending money to buy women and wondered how many he paid in a usual month. The cash register part of my brain started working. Hmmm… I might as well try to wring as much money out of him as I could. And I wondered whether Kristol might be worth cultivating too, and not just as a conduit to Ivan. She sounded as if she was used to making this kind of arrangement.
And that’s how I went to Den Hague to spend three nights with Ivan—after I had consulted with Mistress and Hans, of course.
~~~~~
When I arrived in Den Hague, I went to the Hilton Den Hague hotel. I had been instructed to ask for Herr Zadornov, which was odd because he was known to Hans and me as Ivan Kuznetsov – a fact I had already relayed to Ilsa. The desk clerk phoned up to his room, then told me to go right up. I could see in his eyes what he thought I was going to do there. And he was right, but I really didn’t care.
I had dressed as conservatively as I could, knowing that Katja would be trying to look plain rather than enticing. And I put on my best “little lost girl” look that my clients seem to like. I took a deep breath, ready to go onstage, then knocked on the door to his hotel room.
Ivan answered the door; then his face broke into a big grin. “Katja! How lovely to see you! I’m so glad you could make it!”
Then he hugged me… a friendly hug, not a grope, and kissed me on both cheeks.
“H…hi, Mister Kuznetsov; thank you for inviting me.”
“What’s this ‘mister’ business? We’re friends; there’s no need for formality!”
I glanced up at him as if I was uncertain. “Okay… Ivan.”
“Good. Now let me take your bag, and get you something to drink. You still like Pinot Grigio? I have a very nice bottle on ice. Please, sit! Make yourself comfortable.” And he walked off to the solitary bedroom, carrying my bag.
I walked around the suite, trying to look uncomfortable and awkward, then sat very tentatively on the edge of the settee. He came bustling back, poured and gave me a glass of wine, then plopped himself down in the armchair opposite.
“Now, tell me how you are and what you’ve been up to since we were in Berlin!”
We made small talk for a while, and he seemed to be working hard to make me comfortable and to get me to relax. I gradually did sit back and relax into the settee. Finally, he turned the talk to business.
“And how is my good friend Hans? Still hard at work on our business arrangement?”
And with that, he very adroitly started to pump me for information about what Hans was thinking and doing. I gave the answers we had prepared, saying ‘I don’t know’, or ‘I wasn’t in the room when they discussed that’ several times. We felt that an intern wouldn’t know what was going on in the CEOs brain, but would have heard things in passing. Finally, I gave him one of the nuggets we felt he would be looking for.
“Ivan, I don’t know if this is important or not…”
He leaned forward, “Yes?”
“I’ve heard him say a phrase several times, and I’m not sure what it means. He keeps talking about wanting to be sure you weren’t representing ‘dirty money’. Does that mean anything to you?”
Ivan looked as if he was thinking, but I could see that it was a façade. “I think so. I think what he means is he wants to be sure I’m not fronting for the mafia or some kind of criminal organization. Would that make sense?”
I stopped as if to think, then nodded, “Ja, yes, I think so. He seems to like you and keeps arguing with his advisors about you and your group, but… the company has belonged to his family for generations, and he wouldn’t want to see their reputation jeopardized by being associated with bad guys. Yeah, that could make sense.”
Ivan thought for a moment, then clapped his hands, and said, “Well, I’ll do what I can to make sure he knows he can trust us.
“But that’s enough business for now! Why don’t you get dressed, and we can go get some dinner, yes? You must be starved after your travels. And… why don’t you wear something sexy for dinner, as you did at the gala in Berlin?”
He was very pleased and complimented me extravagantly when I came out of the bedroom dressed in white high heels, a slinky, short bar dress in midnight blue that showed I wasn’t wearing a lot underneath, diamond studs in my ears, my public collar, and perfume.
He escorted me to a very nice restaurant, behaving quite gallantly, which reminded me about what Kristol told me about managing him – which, of course, agreed with my own training in how to manage clients. What Kristol didn’t know is that I probably knew more about it than she did!
Yet, it was clear to me that she was managing a business, not just individual clients. I suspected I could learn quite a lot from her too, and later found that was perfectly true.
We did have a very pleasant dinner. Kristol was right about that, too – Ivan could be charming when he tried, and we laughed and had fun. And in between times, he continued to pump me for information about Hans and the deal by asking things like, “And how are things at work? Are they making use of your talents?”
As a result, I was able to tell him the other things Hans wanted him to know. How Hans was focused on the deal, but his financial people were telling him that the financials didn't make sense, the deal doesn’t work for the Company’s ROI – whatever that is. He just nodded and let me chatter on.
But when dinner was over, we very quickly wound up in his suite at the Hilton. It seemed to me as if Ivan had been dreaming of me because he started behaving as if he hadn’t had sex in a month – which I’m sure wasn’t true.
As we walked into his suite, he indicated he wanted me to stand in the middle of the living room while he stripped off his coat, loosened his tie, and plunked himself down on the settee, putting his feet up on the coffee table.
“Now,” he smiled, “show me what’s under that sexy little dress of yours. I’ve been dying to see it all evening!”
I had been expecting something like this, so I just stood there and gawked at him, cradling my boobs in my crossed arms as if embarrassed. It’s a move I’ve used before when stripping, and guys seem turned on by it.
His smile just broadened further, then he reached over for a manila envelope on the side of the settee, pulled out a sheaf of photos, and tossed them on the coffee table, where they fanned out.
They were all of me, Ivan, and Kristol, but my face was the only one that was recognizable. And the top photo was me, riding Ivan cowgirl, partway up, with his cock clearly visible coming out of my pussy. My eyes were closed, I had my hands on my tits, and I seemed to be close to an orgasm. I slowly spread some of the other photos, then impulsively pushed them away and turned my head.
“The dress,” he said, tilting his head down and looking at me through his eyelashes. His smile became even more wolfish.
Inwardly I smiled, knowing that one of us was in control… and that it wasn’t him. But I straightened up and moved slowly back to the middle of the room. I reached behind me, and undid the zip at the back, and pulled it most of the way down. Next, I slowly brushed my dress off of my right shoulder, revealing the black strap of my lacy bra. I did the same with my left shoulder, then shimmied out of the dress, letting it pool at my feet, then stepped free.
I was now wearing a black, lacy bra, matching panties, white high heels, diamond stud earrings, and my public collar. I re-crossed my arms over my tits, as if embarrassed.
“And the rest,” was all he said.
I swallowed, as if scared, reached behind me and undid my bra, then clasped the now-free undergarment to me, took a breath, and let it fall, allowing my hands to come awkwardly to my side.
After a couple of beats, I lifted my hands to the waistband of my panties, and slid my thumbs under the waistband, then slowly slid them down to my ankles and stepped out, kicking them away.
I clasped my legs together, and held one hand over my kitty, looking away from him, then bent down to undo my shoes.
“Leave the shoes. Now come over here, and take my cock in that hot little mouth of yours, the one you used so well in Berlin.” And he unzipped himself, sliding his crotch forward on the settee.
Now, I know from direct experience that men like to think that they’re such great lovers that they can turn a shy, hesitant girl into a wanton, willing slut in a matter of minutes. I was about to confirm to Ivan that he was just that kind of supernatural lover, so I awkwardly climbed down onto my knees in front of him, picked up his cock with two fingers, as if taking hold of something repulsive, licked my lips, then lean forward and put my closed lips against the tip. He chuckled, spread his legs wider, and leaned back to watch the show.
After a couple of moments, when I breathed heavily through my nose, I slowly opened my mouth and took his cockhead into it very gingerly, as if forcing myself to do so. I glanced up at him, and he had his arms spread over the back of the settee, with a broad smile on his face, loving the thought that he was making this inexperienced innocent repeat the debauchery he and Kristol had caught her in before.
I have met this kind of male desire to coerce and dominate many times before, and while sometimes it can be a turn-on if both parties are playing it as a game, most of the time, it is one of the ugliest aspects of the male psyche. Yet, since I knew it well, I knew exactly how to play to it.
Making my actions slow and reluctant, I worked his cock in and out of my mouth, frequently pausing to gather more saliva but also to edge him and make him eager for more.
Eventually, I was taking about two-thirds of it into my mouth, stopping just short of the back of my throat. I bobbed slowly up and down this way for a while until he finally did what I expected – reached forward and forced my head down until I gagged on him as his cock hit the back of my throat. I deliberately didn’t deep throat him, even though I was an expert at doing so.
After letting me bob up and down, gagging each time, he held my head down, making me gag for several seconds, then finally releasing me and saying, “You should go deep, each time, girl. It pleases me more, understand?”
I held his cock shallowly in my mouth, breathing hard, as if distressed, then nodded, swallowed, and started going up and down on his again, making myself gag on each down-stroke.
I could tell he was getting close to cumming, and wondered if he was going to cum in my throat or pull out and paint my face. He did neither. Instead, he stood up, pulling himself out of my mouth, then zipped up and reached down and held out his hand.
“Come. Bedroom.”
I sat back on my heels, swallowed hard as if catching my breath, then held my hand up and allowed him to pull me to my feet. He twirled me around, put one hand on my ass, and propelled me ahead of him into the bedroom.
When we got there, he pushed me forward, face-first, onto the bed, kicked my legs apart, and said, “Stay there,” then walked over and shed his clothes, folding and hanging them carefully, humming while he did it.
I found it irritating that he felt himself to be in such control that he felt he could take his time, but also realized this was a good sign – I had him convinced I was a helpless girl, being held in his thrall.
But I also decided I’d find a way to make him pay, if not for me, then for all the women to whom he’d done similar things. And I did… although it took several months. But when it came, the payback was sweet!
When he was finally ready, he moved behind me, reached between my legs, split my pussy lips, then roughly shoved himself into me with a grunt.
I squealed, only partly acting. He was deliberately being rough. He grabbed both of my hands and held them behind me, forcing my face into the bed, then started fucking me hard.
I suppose, if I had wanted, I could have taken him down even then, but that wasn’t my objective here, so I let him root away for a while, then very quietly started to moan and move my ass, as if I were being turned on. And, truth to tell, even though I was working, I still enjoyed it – even if he wasn’t being very nice about how he took me.
When he noticed my moans, he started ramming himself in even harder, and I responded as if this was a real turn-on. It also had the effect of making him cum sooner.
~~~~~
We spent several hours that night fucking, off and on. And after the first time, Ivan was much more considerate and a much better lover. It was almost as if the primitive part of his sex had to be satisfied first; then the civilized man could take over. Whatever the reason, we had fun, and as the night wore on, I acted like I was becoming more and more enthusiastic.
When we finally woke the next morning, I was cuddled up next to him. I had actually had a pretty fun night. When Ivan’s eyes opened, he looked down at me and smiled. “Well, good morning!”
I turned my head down as if I were blushing, then looked up at him and smiled. “Hi.”
“Did you have fun last night, despite your initial… hesitation?”
I nodded, then looked away and said, “That was… amazing. Thank you.”
He reached up and ruffled my hair, “You are more than welcome. And we can have more fun tonight, ja?”
I looked up at him and gave him my little girl smile again, “Ja,” I said, hesitantly.
He pushed me partway away from him, looked at me and asked, “Have you had much sex before?”
I looked down, then shook my head. “A couple of boyfriends. But they didn’t really know what they were doing.”
I smiled up at him, “This was… much better.”
His smile broadened. “Ja, boys really need someone to teach them. They are so ignorant of what really turns a woman on.”
I looked down and smiled to myself but nodded enthusiastically.
Men are really very simple, if you know which buttons to push.
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