Blackmailed by Mr. B

ATTN: All characters are purely fictional. All characters are over the age of eighteen. This story contains elements of reluctance and non-consent.

Note from author: I am still writing, just slowly. I will be updating my bio to include other creations. Personal feedback can be sent to my email, on my profile. I am unable to reply to feedback submitted directly on Literotica.

*****

"Can I come?" I asked desperately.

"Not a chance." he said with a grin.

I looked down into my cereal bowl dejectedly.

"It's our anniversary weekend, honey, besides, you're getting paid double for the basement remodel" my mother added.

"Basement remodel?" I asked, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

"Yeah, Mr. B is going to help us out with a face-lift on the basement. Big screen TV nook, pool table, LED lights, leather sofas, its going to be great!" my dad said.

I had gone from hoping to escape from Mr. B's clutches for a weekend to being condemned to a weekend alone with him. It was also clear that our basement was not the only thing that was going to get a quick and dirty.

"He's starting tomorrow morning, just come straight home from school to help. I'm going to leave you my card so you can get your prom clothes. Mr. B said he'd drive you wherever you need to go."

"That's great." I feigned excitement.

On the bright side, this was an opportunity to have some alone time with Maria again. I was eager to fuck her in the traditional way and restore some of my diminishing masculinity.

When I left that morning, there was a work van and a furniture store delivery truck pulling up, but no sign of Mr. B. My parents were already gone, having caught an early flight. At school, Maria was in my first period class and I debated internally on whether to make solid plans with her. I had no idea what Mr. B had in store, but I also assumed most of it would happen on Friday. In the end, I told her my parents would be away for the weekend, and I would be free Saturday at some point if she wanted to hang out.

"This time, maybe you can fuck me." she said with a smile.

I caught up with Sonya during first period during our math class, which I had been struggling in. I had made sure to study extra for our last test because I was dangerously close to failing. I got an A+ on the practice test, so I was confident that I would get a good enough grade to bump my average above 50%. As the teacher was handing out the marked tests, Sonya tapped my shoulder, prompting me to turn around.

"Can you come shopping with me tomorrow? I've got my dress, obviously, but I wanted to get a clutch, makeup, and lingerie- uh... I mean..." she looked red in the face and lowered her voice. "Fuck it, I'm buying lingerie, and I'm going to need an actual guy's opinion. Are you in?" she asked.

"Yes" I answered without hesitation.

I turned back to my desk to find my test, marked with a big red "D-", meaning I had essentially failed the course. I didn't get too upset, because I knew I could probably make it up with a special assignment if I asked nicely. The teacher was known for being a dick, but he had always been nice to me. I figured it would work out in the end. It also helped that I was preoccupied with my plans with Maria and Sonya's request. I had planned them both on the same day. The real challenge was ensuring Mr. B would get his fill of torturing me that evening.

On the walk home, I didn't really think about my math grade, or Mr. B or even Maria. I was focused on Sonya and how she was going to let me help her pick out lingerie. Sure it was for another guy, but I'd get to see her in it first. I wondered what it would be, something traditional and lacy, or something sluttier, like fishnets or an open cup bra. I was imagining her in all sorts of outfits when I turned the corner and saw a work van pulling out of my house's driveway. My mental image of Sonya was quickly shattered as I reached my front lawn and approached the front door. I walked in and called out.

"Hello?"

No answer.

Mr. B must have been out. I wouldn't let myself hope he wouldn't return, but Id be lying if I said I wasn't wishing it. I walked to my bedroom and dropped my bag on the floor and went straight for my computer. As the screen came awake I was greeted with a picture of myself as the desktop background. I was wearing bridal lingerie and squatting with his cock three quarters of the way inside my ass. I had a big smile on my face and a speech bubble positioned above me stated "Oh fuck daddy, your balls are so big! I cant wait for them to empty inside my tight little pussy!"

I was embarrassed mostly because it was a direct quote and not something he even told me to say. After the embarrassment, panic set in. How did he do this? How did he get my password. It was then that I noticed my desktop was almost entirely empty of icons, leaving only three. One was the internet icon. One was for an App called "CamzChat". The third was labelled "RemoteCommandCenter". I opened the internet to search the new apps but the homepage caught me off guard. It brought me to a popular sissy hypno site. Along the top of the page, the bookmarks bar featured trans and sissy themed porn sites and prominently, the website Mr. B had created to feature my pictures and videos. When I attempted to go to google an error came up stating "This website has been blocked by your administrator". I spent the next few minutes attempting to remove the desktop picture and restore my old settings but soon realized it was not going to happen.

I opened my phone and googled CamzChat, finding out that as I predicted it was an adult cam site, although I didn't know if the shortcut on my desktop was just a link or an application. When I googled the second application I began to panic. He had essentially used that program to take over my computer. He could control everything from when I could log in to accessing the webcam. For all intents and purposes, it was his computer now. I tried to log off but an error message popped up. The best I could do was turn off the monitor, which was better than nothing. I turned around, feeling my face hot with frustration and saw that my neatly made bed was not how I left it. I was so distracted when I came in that I didn't notice a backpack made out of transparent material on my bed. Inside, I could see sex toys of all varieties, as well as a bundle of clothes. I took them out, and inspected them. There was a plaid schoolgirl skirt, too short to cover my clit, let alone my ass. There was also a white shirt with a chest pocket and puffed sleeves that ended right below my shoulders. There was a note on the bed in front of it. I picked it up and read:

"Get dressed and come to the basement. Use the underwear you wore in the last video, and wear the backpack."

He had written a "PS" at the bottom as well.

'PS. Come down those stairs in character. You have an audience now.'

I ran back to my computer and clicked on the bookmark to "my" website and saw a big flashing button at the top of the page reading "Live now". I clicked it, expecting to get a view of my basement but instead the same error page as before came up. I would be performing, but he didn't want me to see what I was walking in to. I got to work quickly. After dressing, I noticed a pair of white converse in the bag and put them on too. There was lube in there as well, so I took the liberty of using it liberally as I doubted there would be much of a warm-up. I threw the backpack on, and ran down the stairs to the main level. On the kitchen counter was another note, and a bottle of flavored vodka.

'Take 5 shots before you come down. Take your time.'

I took two shots immediately, but needed to take a break before I took another. My cellphone dinged and I saw there was a text message from Maria.

'Can I come over? <3'

I felt weird texting her while dressed up, so I tried to keep the conversation brief.

Me: 'Sorry tonight is not a good night, I'm helping our neighbor with renovations and then I have some assignments I need to finish up'

Maria: 'You can finish on my ASSignment hehehe <3'

Me: 'That sounds so hot, but really I can't tonight, maybe tomorrow'

Maria: 'Fuck my pussy is throbbing... it needs your cock so bad...I've been at home just rubbing it since lunch'

I took another couple shots.

Me: 'Tomorrow'

The next thing I received was a close-up of Maria's plump, swollen pussy, noticeably wet between her lips.

Maria: ' :'( '

I took the final shot, and was thankful because it loosened me up, and made pretending to be a slutty girl easier. I was expecting the basement to be a mess. Furniture boxes, paint, drywall, maybe even tools strewn about. When I walked down the stairs, what I was greeted with, was completely unexpected. The renovation was complete and it looked completely different from when I had left that day. In the far corner were two, occupied, leather couches and a big screen TV in a nook. A pool table sat prominently in the middle of the room, although it wasn't exactly game ready. In the corner closest to me, was a work-out area, with anchors in the ceiling that could hold a pull-up bar, or whatever else required overhead equipment. Around the perimeter of the ceiling was recessed LED lighting, giving the room a pink and purple glow with the pot lights dimmed. In each corner of the room and other places through out, there were cameras, angled in various directions. There was a small black chest sitting on the ground against the wall next to the bathroom door. It looked familiar, but I couldn't remember where I had seen it.

"You're late." a man's voice said.

It wasn't Mr. B's.

***** Sunday evening *****

"Wow kiddo!" my father said on Sunday evening as he walked down the stairs to the basement, "It's better than I expected! You must have worked crazy hard!"

"Yeah... pretty hard..." I said.

"Well cheers to that! Great work!" he held his hand up for a high five.

My hand met his as we high-fived to the "work" being done. In reality, the work I did happened in the basement, but it had little to do with the renovations. My father walked straight to the TV area and looked down at the larger of the couches.

"This looks even better than the catalogue! Have you tried it out? Is it comfortable?"

I looked at the couch and the only thing that flashed through my mind was swollen, slimy, cock.

"What's that smell?" my mother asked.

***** Friday evening *****

The man's voice came from the far corner. I focused in on the couches. The larger one held a man, who I realized was not Mr. B despite a similar out of shape body and receding hairline. He had an all too familiar face. It was a very unpopular teacher at my school. Specifically, my very unpopular math teacher, the one who had given me the "D-", Mr. Roberts. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. B, sitting in an arm chair, away from the angles of the cameras. He signalled to Mr. Roberts and stood up, walking past me, up the stairs without a word. I walked slowly up to the couch area and before I could say anything, Mr. Roberts spoke first.

"Miss Candy, I was disappointed in the results of the math test. Did you even study?"

"Yes... uh... yes sir, I did." I said, trying to maintain some semblance of a character.

I was totally caught off guard. Mr. Roberts was someone who knew me in every day life, and now he was sitting here, looking sternly at me as I was dressed like a slut in my parent's basement.

"I doubt that. You understand that this means you are going to fail, right? This will negatively impact your future in a significant way."

I thought he was just making conversation at first, but now I understood the scene they wanted. I wouldn't outright fight it, but I also wasn't going to play the horny schoolgirl who offers to suck her teacher off to pass her class.

"I do. I really did try Mister..." I left his name out, as much for me as for him because I was still grappling with the fact that this man was my teacher.

"Well trying isn't good enough. Come here" he pointed to the ground in front of him.

I walked closer, stopping just short of being in between his manspreading legs. He looked me up and down.

"That skirt is a violation of the dress code as well. Turn around."

I turned around slowly, my face feeling red with embarrassment. This would have looked like a roleplay to an outside observer, but it was real. I was actually failing his class, and it was starting to look like this was the extra-credit assignment that would land me a good grade. For once, I was going to be getting something out of the degradation but for some reason, I had never felt dirtier.

"Hmmmph" a judging sound came out of his mouth and I felt his hand touch my butt cheek, causing me to jump.

His fat finger found its way in the opening at the back of my panties and slipped inside my pre-lubed hole.

"Mister... what are you doing?" I said uneasily, and leaned forward slightly, hoping his finger would slip out.

His other hand wrapped around my waist and pulled me back.

"There's only one reason for a girl to dress like that around her teacher, Candy. Do you know what that is?" he asked.

"No Mister." I said, squirming around his probing finger.

"Because she's a whore. Are you a whore Candy?" he asked.

"No. I'm not, I'm a good girl." I said, pleadingly, wishing this could stop.

"Listen to me carefully. You are going to turn around, get down on your knees, and unbuckle and unzip my pants for me. Are you ready to do that?"

"No Mister, please, I won't wear a short skirt again, I promise!" I pleaded.

"Your final mark is an F then. You may go." he said, as his finger slipped out of my hole and he leaned back, sitting down on the couch.

"An F?" I asked, turning around to face him, my voice shaking.

He said nothing.

I knelt down between his legs and my hands, shaking slightly went up to his belt buckle. As I released his buckle, he picked up a handheld camera, aiming it downward at me. I unbuttoned his pants, and began unzipping. His bulge was prominent. I could tell his cock was soft by the way it felt through his pants but It was also very thick. There was a faint smell of stale pee as I pulled his pants open and down to his ankles revealing white underwear with a yellow stain in the lower crotch. His hand grabbed the back of my head and pulled it down against his bulge.

"Smell it, Candy. Whores like you go wild for that smell, don't you?"

"Mmphno" I denied, but it was muffled by the man's groin.

He laughed and released my head. As I regained my senses, he pulled his underwear down himself, revealing a now not-totally-soft cock. It was thick and uncircumcised, covered in veins.

"Take it in your hand Candy..." he said, "Unless you want that F."

I took it in my hand firmly. It was long enough that the head and some of the shaft extended past my grip and thick enough my hand didn't wrap around it completely. I pulled the foreskin back, exposing the slick head, covered in precum.

"Sniff it." he said.

I ignored him and opened my mouth, intending to get his cock head to the back of my throat and avoid tasting his disgusting slime. A hand slapped my face abruptly, bringing tears to my eyes and blushing cheeks.

"No!" he admonished me like I was a dog that peed on his favourite rug, "Bad whore. I told you to sniff it. So what are you going to do?"

I looked up at the camera, trying not to cry, and leaned in, this time with my mouth closed. Another slap. Now a few actual tears began falling down my cheeks.

"I asked you a question. No wonder you are failing... A stupid whore like you can only think about cock all day. Now answer. What are you going to do?"

"Sniff your cock...?" I said, overwhelmed by the slaps and unsure if it was the answer he wanted.

"Better. And why are you going to do that?" he asked.

"Because I'm a whore, and whores love the smell of cock." I said, looking down at his cock, clear and fresh precum oozing out, mixing with the white, thicker batch that had been marinating under his foreskin.

He hadn't hit me again so I knew I wasn't failing this assignment.

"So therefore?"

"I love the smell of cock?" I said, unsure again.

I was able to smell his cock from where I was positioned already. It was old cum, and stale piss, mixed with a meaty sour smell that can only be found on an unwashed cock.

"Was that a question?" he asked with some anger.

He pulled my head closer and his swollen cock head made contact with my upper lip. He proceeded to wipe my face across it.

"Sniff! Sniff! Get it in your lungs you unintelligent skank!" he spat.

I sniffed loudly enough that he would be satisfied, and my hand held his cock firmly in place as he used my face as a rag. Eventually he released me and I continued smelling it and wiping it across my lips, cheeks, and chin, while taking big inhales through my nostrils.

"That's a good whore. Now you're getting it." he said, stroking the side of my face softly, causing me to whimper and flinch a little.

Everything south of my nose was now slick and whether I was actively wiping his cock on my upper lip or not, I could smell him. I was no stranger to the scent of cock, but this was much stronger. It felt like he was marking me, making me his. I looked up at him, eyes wide and lips pushed out like I was pouting and made sure his leaking cock head came into contact with every inch of my face, occasionally slapping it gently against my cheeks, hoping to avoid him using his hand to slap me again. His cock had grown harder and thicker by now, but I knew it wasn't a full erection as it remained a little flexible. It was easily bigger than Mr. B's cock, possibly the biggest I had seen in person.

"Do you know what happens next, Candy?" he asked.

I loosened my grip on his cock without letting go and sat back on my knees in a relaxed position and shook my head while maintaining eye contact. The camera, still i. his hand stared down at me with it's glossy lens and red blinking light.

"You can't guess? Why not?" he knocked on my head with a closed fist as if it were a door, "Hello? Anybody home?"

He laughed to himself as I regained my composure, fighting back more tears.

"God, you're dumb. Candy, what the fuck would a whore do with a cock inches away from her face?"

"Suck it?" I answered, my voice cracking.

"Ding ding ding" he said, pinching my cheek hard enough for it to hurt.

I leaned in slowly, opening my mouth but again, just before his cock head made contact with my lips, a big slap hit me like a bee sting.

My hands went reflexively to my face, and the one that had been holding his cock smeared the precum that had dripped onto it along the side of my mouth. He leaned forward, seeing the thick globule and used his finger to wipe it between my lips and into my mouth. Tears escaped my eyes again as I sucked his finger, tasting the bitter salty flavor of his cock. I felt myself blushing once more and fought the urge to cry.

"You need to ask permission, whore!" he said in an exasperated tone, pulling his finger out with a pop and tapping my nose three times before leaning back again. His cock head was covered mostly by his foreskin again and pointing obscenely at my face.

"Please, can I suck your cock mister?" I asked, looking up at him.

"I don't know, can you?" he retorted.

"Please may I?" I corrected.

He chuckled slowly.

"We are going to be here all night, aren't we? All night long, teaching you things you should already know."

He smacked my face with his cock hard enough to elicit an involuntary whimper.

"Now beg." he said, pointing a finger at me before adding, "And be descriptive. Tell me all things a whore like you wants to do. Be specific and detailed."

He had a stern expression and the terrifyingly real possibility of being slapped again inspired me to follow his direction.