Annie Gets Blackmailed

by Anne Zvesteit

Part 5

 

How did I get into this? Just over a week ago I was a happily closeted nights-and-weekends transvestite who never left the house en femme, as they say. Then, in the space of just seven days, I found out that A) I'm a natural born cocksucker, B) I've taken two different cocks deep into my previously virgin ass, C) it may have started as blackmail but there's no way to deny that I liked it, and D) I'm about to put on a stage show in front of a bunch of so-called Admirers. God, I've become a whore!

No, wait. I may have enjoyed it at the time, but my primary motivation is to get the pictures Dave has. A casual acquaintance at work, he is my tormentor, my blackmailer, my first cock, and now, my show partner.

If I hadn't met him until tonight, I'd think he was a smokin' hot babe. Originally I only knew him peripherally as my office I.T. administrator. What a surprise when I got backstage to find him putting on makeup in the bathroom and emerging as Dana.

Okay, blackmail and career jeopardy and abject humiliation and stage fright enough to kill an elephant aside, I'm actually looking forward to this a little. I can make a little money from this and buy Dave's silence once and for all. And the orgasms, oh my God, they were...stop! Stop thinking that! You're here to pay off your blackmail debt, Annie, and that's all!

So Dave—no, it's Dana tonight—Dana and I part the curtain from the hallway into the suburban living room where my final humiliation will take place. Dana is gorgeous in her white evening gown, diaphanous enough to tantalize with hints of sexy black bra, garter belt, and...is that the hint of string bikini panties?...I guess I'll find out soon enough. Dana has a swimmer's build, tall and thin (and with a legitimate reason to shave her legs, I realize with a start).

I'm not so stunning as she, but my own lingerie rubs and caresses me in all the right places, and with my 2-1/2" Fuck Me pumps that I wore for the first time today, that old silly song "Yellow Polka Dot Bikini", pops in my head unexpectedly, but with slightly different lyrics:

2…3…4…tell the people who's a whore...

They were a sexy, sleazy, pair of whore shoes

That she wore for the first time today

A sexy, sleazy, pair of whore shoes

"Fuck me silly" is all that they say

 

I never said I was particularly sane.

A voice on a microphone (it's Ty, I realize, the other guy who's shoved his cock into my mouth and ass recently) announces the start of the show. Then music takes over (Ravel's Bolero, I recognize it) and the audience politely applauds. It's the moment of truth.

Before I can think about how scared I am, Dana pulls me out onto the makeshift runway, nothing more than floorboards placed on the carpet. It's very dark, and I can just make out the audience, sitting around the end of the stage in a sunken living room from the 1970's. They collectively gasp at the two lovely ladies, and my confidence surges. I can do this. I can do this.

Dana and I strut the twenty feet to the end of the runway, swishing and sashaying and click-clacking on my absurdly high heels. If you've never been a runway model, even in the privacy of your own home, you're missing something. I feel glorious with my garter belt stretching and contracting against my thighs as it worked to hold up the silk hose that caress my legs and give a little kiss to each other with each step. My breasts bounce and jiggle in their satin prison, and my panties cup my ass a little tighter with every passing second.

By the time I reach the end of the runway, with Dana close behind, I'm in an ecstacy of womanliness, and I would gladly suck and fuck every last man in the room twice. They can tell, and their catcalls and whistles tell of their approval.

Then a spotlight came on and I'm completely blinded. "My God", I think, "I'm completely spotlighted and they can see everything. Do they still think I'm pretty?"

They do. The cheers and catcalls increase as Dana comes up behind me and puts her hands on my ankles. Running her hands lightly up my legs, I feel the electric shivers of an orgasm starting. No! Not so soon! I want it to last!

Dana's hands creep up my thighs, taking my dress and slip with them and briefly showing a glimpse of my garter belt and panties before letting them drop again and continuing up my torso. She lingers briefly (too briefly!) at my breasts, then pulls my hands around my back to where her crotch waited as she kissed my neck softly.

As my hands grope in vain for the panties covering Dana's rock hard erection, Dana whispers, "It's all part of the show", and I feel two thick bracelets click over my wrists.

I try to bring my hands out in front again to see what kind of gift Dana had bought for me, but they won't move. The realization hits me suddenly that it was not bracelets at all, but handcuffs. Where the hell was she hiding those?

Then the true realization hits me: I'm handcuffed and helpless, spotlighted on stage in front of a group of twisted perverts who've paid hundreds of dollars to see me on stage. There's no telling what they'll do to me.

They could rape me (although I was perfectly willing to take them all on a moment ago), or take pictures of me and all have their blackmailed slutty girlfriend on tap, or keep me here indefinitely as their fuck-and-suck maid, or....

"The defendant has been apprehended, your honor", Dana says loudly.

A voice from the back answers, "Then let the trial begin".

Oh, shit.

"I'm on trial? What the fuck for?", I demand. "Dave, this wasn't in the..."

"The defendant will be silent!", shouts the judge. Dave turns me around to face him and slaps me, hard, on the cheek. I fall to the ground in shock and despair, and with my dress up over my hip, displaying my panty-clad ass for all the audience to gape over.

I struggle to my knees and attempt to rise. It's not easy with both hands cuffed behind my back. I'm not beaten yet, although I change my attitude to a less angry tone.

"Look, Dave, I'm not sure I..."

Dave slaps me hard again, but this time I'm ready and stay on my feet. The judge intones, "The defendent will keep her mouth shut, or it will be filled with something that will keep her silent." I don't want to even think about what that might be.

The judge is now in full control. "The defendant will remain on her knees for the reading of the charges." There's no use fighting at this point, so I obey.

"The jury will rise for the reading of the charges."

The audience now rises from their chairs to form a circle around me. Like wolves slavering over a lamb, they sense my fear. Baring their wolf fangs for the kill, they remove their robes all at once. Underneath they're wearing every manner of S&M bondage gear you've ever seen. Cock rings, nipple clamps, and things I don't even know the names of. They're all wearing silken masks that hide their faces. Any one of them could be my boss, or my next door neighbor, and I wouldn't know.

My fear increases tenfold, and they grin at the sight of it. They're all sporting huge erections, some stroking them slowly, some just leering at me.

Dana produces a card from somewhere and reads, "The defendant, Anne Zvesteit, is charged with wanton sluttery unbecoming a lady, and loose morals to the detriment of society."

"You're one to talk about loose morals, asshole", I mutter under my breath. But not quietly enough. She heard me.

She pinches me on my real nipple, hard enough to cause me to cry out in pain. I'm vaguely aware of the jury murmuring its approval as Dana roughly shoves a dildo in my open mouth (where the hell did she hide that?) and straps it to my head. It's not such a long dildo that I can't breathe, but it's thick and fills my whole mouth. The fake testicles rest on my chin, reminding me that it's not just a carrot in my mouth.

"Yhhh ahhhohh, Ah hahha hihh hoo ho hiss", I sputter. It sounded a lot more intelligent in my mind.

"Anne Zvesteit", the judge intones, "you are accused of wanton sluttery and loose morals. Do you agree that you need to be punished?"

The thought of what these ten freaks would think is appropriate punishment scared the shit out of me. I shook my head "no" and pleaded to Dana with my eyes, hoping for one last chance to escape without permanent body damage.

"Then prosecutor", called the judge, "bring your first evidence."

Evidence? I realize that in my fear and panic I played right into their desires. Dave is going to show them the pictures he has. Probably give them all copies to take home and wank over, and maybe post all over town. This is my worst nightmare come to life. And I've still got a dildo strapped in my mouth.

"Exhibit A, your honor", says Dana, "is the way she's dressed. Look at her—she's got 'fuck me' written all over her."

Huh? I hadn't expected that.

The jury murmurs and the judge says, "What am I bid for the honor of showing exhibit A to the jury?"

Several of the freaks hold up cards with dollar amounts on them. Five dollars, ten dollars, 25 dollars. Fifty wins it, from a guy wearing only black leather straps. Even without seeing his face, I can tell he's drooling at the prospect.

So my punishment is to be sold to the highest bidder? God, how stupid I was. In my girlish naivitee I just accepted that they would throw down several hundred dollars each to see a live show of two crossdressers in action. You know, the kind of thing you can rent on DVD for a couple bucks? I was stupid and naive and now I'm going to pay the price.

Juror 6 (not able to see their faces, I'm numbering them from left to right) comes forward to expose Exhibit A: my clothing. Okay, I can deal with this. They might even take the handcuffs off so they can get the dress off me.

Then he produces a switchblade knife from somewhere in the leather straps he's wearing. Oh, shit, he's gonna kill me. It's a snuff film and they're going to kill me on camera and sell it to other perverts just as sick and twisted as they are.

I try to squirm away in panic, but two of the other jurors rush forward to grab me securely. On my knees, hands cuffed behind my back, and with a dildo strapped in my mouth, I'm pretty helpless and they hold me fast as Juror 6 advances with his gleaming knife. He's really enjoying my fear, and I wonder abstractly if he's going to cut off my head and keep it in the refrigerator after he kills me, Jeffrey Dahmer style.

With an evil grin he comes near me, knife blade gleaming in the harsh spotlight as I struggle in vain to escape. Taking the hem of my dress in hand, he slices it neatly all the way up to my cleavage, cutting only the dress with a skill that's impressive and disturbing at the same time.

I breathe a sigh of relief and relax until the Jurors holding my arms let them go and roughly rip the dress off my shoulders. The Jurors murmur their approval of my humiliation. Juror 6 neatly cuts the straps on my slip, letting it fall to the floor and leaving me in must my bra, panties, garter belt and stockings. All in bright Prostitute Red, of course.

I have to explain something about being forcefully exposed in your underwear. In many ways it's more intimate and terrible than being completely naked. If I were naked I could pretend to myself that I'm just a biological animal and this is my natural state. Being exposed in ultrasexy lingerie, with the tatters of my sleek dress hanging from my bound hands behind me, there's no escaping the fact that I'm a sexual target for these sick fucks. They can, and probably will, do anything they want to me, and I'm powerless to fight them. My nameless fear returns as the Jury collectively gasps at Exhibit A: Just Look At What She's Wearing. Score this one for the prosecution.

"The defendant is found guilty of loose morals and is sentenced to corporal punishment. What am I bid to administer fifty lashes on her soft, pink bottom?", asks the Judge.

Again the bid cards go up. Fifty, a hundred, then Juror #1 wins it for $150.

Fifty lashes! I almost choke on the dildo strapped in my mouth. I haven't been spanked since I was five, and I have no intention of...

I'm not able to finish my thought as Dana and Juror #2 grab me roughly to my feet as Juror #1 sits in a chair on stage. In my 2-1/2" heels I can barely walk, much less fight, and they throw me roughly face down onto Juror #1's lap. Arms bound behind me, panty-clad ass exposed and waiting for punishment, there's not much point in fighting it. I look back at my punisher as if to plead with him to go easy on my virgin ass.

In response he raises his hand and slaps my ass hard with his palm. The force of it sends my crotch rubbing against his leg, and despite myself I feel a thrill from the feel of my panties against his skin. The Jurors all shout "One!" as he strikes me, and I know that my ass will be red and sore from that spank alone.

"Two!" "Three!" "Four!" The punishment continues unabated until I'm crying like a little girl, choking back my sobs on the dildo still shoved deep in my mouth. "Forty Four!" "Forty Five" "Forty Six!" I can feel Juror #1's cock poking me in the tummy insistently. He's rock hard with excitement.

Finally the punishment ends with cheers from all the Jurors. I'm dumped like a sack of potatoes to the floor, and my ass is probably red enough to match my panties as I sob quietly to myself.

At least the trial is over. Convicted and punished, maybe I can go home now. I know one thing—I'm never having anything to do with these sick fucks again.

"Well administered, Juror 1", says the Judge. "Now, for the other charges."

Other charges? Shit, shit, shit.

Dana produces yet another card from God knows where on her svelte and sexy body. "The defendant is accused of being a natural born cocksucker and hiding her talent from the general populace", she announces.

Before a couple weeks ago I'd never even touched another man's genitals. After Dave, the I.T. admin from work, blackmailed me into giving him a blowjob, however, he announced that I was "born to it". Sadly for my defense, it was not the last blowjob I was to give, nor even the only man I'd given one to. And I'm guessing he won't be the last either, given the leering wolf pack surrounding me with cocks exposed and ready to go.

"Run the film, please", Dana says. Film? There's film? Shit, shit, shit. If Dave can get me to willingly go to a gang rape on stage with just a couple of still pictures, what can he get me to do with videotape? And where did he get it?

A projector starts up by remote control, displaying a grainy video of an empty bedroom on the blank wall behind Dana. It's my bedroom.

The door opens onscreen and into the bedroom walks Dave, holding the hand of a pretty girl with long brown hair. She's wearing a short sleeved dress that shows off her legs nicely, and looking very nervous. The girl is me.

On the screen the woman kneels down before him and drop his pants and underwear to the floor. By her reaction it's obvious that this is the first time she's ever done this.

The Jurors murmur their approval, and I'm powerless to do anything but watch as the girl onscreen hesitates briefly, then kisses the man's cock up and down. I cringe as I see the man pull out his camera and takes a picture just as she kisses the tip of his cock. God, I was so naive.

She's angry, he's smug. They argue, he wins. Then, her spirit broken, she saddles up and sucks his cock like the whore she is.

The Jurors cheer loudly as the virgin girl onscreen gives the guy onscreen a blowjob, at first hesitantly, then obviously getting into it. Most of them are stroking their cocks as they watch, and they cheer when the guy onscreen holds the girl's head roughly on his cock and shoots his load at the back of her throat. I can only watch numbly from the floor as my last shred of dignity is torn away. Crossdresser, cock sucker, and now...porn star. Mom would be so proud.

The video ends and the Judge speaks up. "The evidence is overwhelming, isn't it, Jurors?", he asks. They roar their assent. Hell, even I have to admit I'm guilty on this one.

"Then what am I bid to administer the punishment?", the Judge intones.

This time, they don't bother with the bid cards. "Fifty", says Juror 10. "One hundred", says Juror 9. Eventually they tap out at two hundred dollars. But what is the punishment?

The Jurors part ways to show a low, sturdy coffee table which was hidden behind them. It's got some sort of mattress or wrestling pad custom fit to match it, and a sheet covering it. Four of the Jurors lift me up bodily (Juror 7 takes the opportunity to caress my panty-clad ass—I "Mmph!" in protest, but he just leers) and deposit me on my back on the table, holding me there in case I tried to escape.

The winner, Juror 4, approaches me with a big grin and an even bigger erection. He gently removes the dildo strapped to my mouth, tossing it aside carelessly. I guess with 10 hard cocks around (eleven, if you count Dana) we're not going to need any dildos tonight. Despite myself, I'm grateful to him for removing it.

He motions to the Jurors holding me, and they move me so that my head hangs off the edge of the table. I can feel their hands holding on to my ankles and my belly, and I'm surprised at how sensual it is, even now, to have strong manly hands caressing my body.

"You know what's coming", says Juror 4. "Just be a good girl and I'll make it nice for you."

Okay, Annie. This is why Dave suggested you practice your deep throating skills. You can do this. You've even practiced this position.

I nod my head and open my mouth for his hard, hungry cock. It's a largish one, bigger than mine but not what you'd call huge by any means. He starts off just pushing the tip in and out as I lick and suck the most sensitive parts. He starts to get frantic, like he's gonna come before he ever shoves it home to the Promised Land. Opening my throat wide, I take his cock as he pushes it in all the way until his pubic hair hits my chin and his balls hang into my eyes. If I hadn't been practicing all week I would have barfed for sure. Gee, thanks, Dave.

With a muffled "Hnnnngghhhh" he comes down my throat, not allowing me to breathe as he spurts his creamy load down my throat. Luckily an orgasm takes only a few seconds, and I can hold my breath. One of the Jurors holding me notices I've got an erection and starts to caress my cock through my panties. The others murmur their approval at the show they've just watched as Juror 4 removes his balls from my eyes and slides his cock out of my mouth so I can breathe again.

They all crowd around now and rub their hands on my legs, my torso, my neck, my feet, my hips, my breasts, my panties, everywhere. The feeling is incredible as I come to the realization that they're all turned on by me. I'm in control, despite being handcuffed in lingerie and manhandled and forced to suck the cock of an anonymous masked stranger.

I allow myself to moan and writhe beneath them, and pick one of them, Juror 6 I think. "I want to suck your cock", I breathe to him in a sultry voice. Less than 2 seconds later he's in my mouth, groaning and grunting in pleasure. I continue to moan and writhe as he shoves his cock deep in my throat.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch of glimpse of Dana, on her knees, with three Jurors taking turns in her mouth as she strokes two others with her hands. God, she's beautiful.

Then the hands caressing me roll me over on my stomach. Juror 6 is nearing orgasm now and his cock spins in my mouth until I'm looking at his pubic hair instead of his balls. I can feel someone unlocking the handcuffs, but it doesn't matter because Juror 6 is orgasming with a high pitched squeal, shooting cum onto my tongue as I suck the tip of his cock hungrily. I swallow his cum and massage his balls with my newly freed hands, causing his orgasm to last a couple seconds longer.

Any semblance of order is gone, and one of the Jurors pulls me up by the hips until I'm on my hands and knees. I feel my panties being pulled down to my ankles as I eagerly take the next cock into my mouth. I'm getting too tired to do much in the way of a good quality blowjob (Jesus, now you're a fucking expert on giving head???), but it doesn't matter as the Juror pumps his cock in and out. Just as he's shooting his cum onto my tongue, I feel something pressing against my exposed anus and brace myself to be violated once again. I have no idea whose cock is in my ass, my mouth, or my hands, and I don't care. I want them all, desperately.

Just when my own cock screams for release, I'm flipped over by a beautiful girl in black lingerie (it's Dana!), who straddles me 69-style and begins to lick my balls as she would a woman's pussy. She's not wearing panties, and I guide her pussy down to my waiting mouth. It's not long before I have the unique experience of feeling my own ass penetrated by an unknown Juror as I watch a huge cock pushed forcefully into her ass, just inches from my face.

I'm close to release now, but by mutual unspoken agreement Dana and I do not take each other's cock until the Jurors fucking our tight, pretty asses are ready. The cock slamming home into Dana's ass is mesmerizing, even as I relish the pressure on my own prostate that Dana gets to watch.

Then both Jurors fucking us speed up their tempo and slam harder and harder and the scrotum is hitting me in the forehead with each pump and Dana takes my cock in her mouth and I take hers and the pleasure is indescribable and the Jurors climax, sending Dana over the edge. Her cock stiffening and spurting hot cum into my mouth sends me over the edge and oh, my God it seems to go on forever, spurting into Dana's mouth as I eagerly accept the same into mine, and waves of intense pleasure course through my whole body. My ex-wife once tried to explain what the female orgasm feels like, and now I think I know.

By some strange coincidence everyone is spent at about the same time. Or maybe they're just really good at this. I'm not the first girl they've violated, that's for sure. But I'm happy, deliriously happy, as I lay on the makeshift mattress enjoying the afterglow. I don't know what the hell I've become in the last two weeks, but I'm certain it's what I've wanted all my life without ever realizing it.

Before long, Ty appears with a change of clothes. It's a flouncy black floral skirt and red satin blouse. I never did take off my shoes. I reach up and give him a peck on the cheek in thanks, then get dressed as a few of Jurors murmur "Don't go" and "God, you're hot" and the like. I'm amazed to find that, after all that's transpired tonight I can still blush.

Ty has a cordless microphone in his hand, probably the one he used as Judge, but he doesn't use it when he announces, "The defendant is found guilty of being a hot piece of ass, isn't she gentlemen?"

The Jurors shout their approval, and Ty continues. "But there is one more charge levelled at the defendant. Let's see the evidence."

I'm crushed. I thought the ordeal was over with a happy ending. These assholes don't care for me. I'm just a plaything to be toyed with and thrown away to them. Hell, they'll probably fuck me again, then kill me and toss my body in the river. Whatever. I don't care any more.

The projector starts up again. The video is still grainy, but this time it's a different view of my house – my living room. How many spy cameras did Dave plant??? The stereo begins to pound out the sounds of a crowd cheering, then the opening chords of "Bad Boyfriend" by Garbage.

Oh. My. God.

And there I am, on screen, in lingerie and strutting up to the center of the screen with a stereo remote control in my hand like a microphone. The Jurors are elated by this unexpected bonus, and cheer loudly at my humiliation.

I watch, numb, as the music swells and onscreen, I begin to dance. It's not the studio version I was singing along with; I guess they found a live version of the song and spliced it in with the spy camera feed. It's not perfect but it's close.

As I watch myself dancing and strutting and vamping for my nonexistent audience, I'm struck by how good I look when I'm not self-conscious, as I am now. I wish I could be that girl on screen, full of confidence and charisma, instead of an embarrassed, ugly, sexual deviant being laughed at by a crowd of sexual deviants.

But wait. They're not laughing so much as they are cheering. They're not making fun of me, they like my performance for what it is – a sexy, confident rock and roll babe with the audience in the palm of her hand.

Dana sidles up and holds my hand. She's got the microphone in her other hand. As the video nears its end, she whispers in my ear. "Wanna know the secret to show business? Always leave them wanting more."

Always leave them wanting more. Hmmm.

As the song ends and the recorded audience cheers, the Jurors surround me, hugging me and telling me how great I was, how sexy I looked, what a show!

The audience applause returns to the speakers, but slightly different. A different song is starting. I can't quite place it yet. Dana announces to the crowd, "The defendant, Annie Zvesteit, is hereby accused of being a hot babe, a man eater, a siren, a temptress, a femme fatale, a…"

Now I recognize the song. It's one of Garbage's biggest hits. Dana and I say it together: "…Supervixen".

I take the microphone from Dana's hand and strut to center stage. The Jurors, down in the sunken living room, roar their approval.

Always leave them wanting more.

  

  

  

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