You hate to admit it to yourself, but you can feel that hum of building arousal thinking about your angel, Ashley, being naughty when she closes the door to her room at night. It's been difficult living in the same house with her as she's matured, because she's grown into quite a stunning young lady, the way your wife was at that age.
Sometimes when you see her out of the corner of your eye you have a flashback to those first passionate years of your relationship, but you shake it off quickly and remind yourself who it is giving you those thoughts. Occasionally, when those thoughts come you've tried to grab hold of that ancient arousal and get Melissa to be the way she once was. Typically, she'd brush off your advances as she does so often these days, but those few times she didn't you're not sure if it was your wife or your daughter who you were thinking about in your head.
You start to type, "I want to see the pictures..." but pause before sending the response.
You remind yourself this is your little girl and you've spent most of your life, even as your marriage has grown mundane, doing what you can to make her happy. You decide you can't do it. As much as you might feel the occasional stirring in your loins you want to continue doing everything you can for her happiness. You go to hit -DELETE-, but instead hit -ENTER-.
's Fate: Is that so? Do we have a deal?
Fuck.
You: No, no we don't sorry. I can't do it.
's Fate: But you said you wanted to see the pictures? Don't you want to have the opportunity to fulfill some of your secret desires?
You: Look, yes, I want to see the pictures and I'd be lying if I told you she didn't occasionally inappropriately enter my thoughts, but more than anything I want to respect her privacy.
's Fate: Interesting. Doesn't it bother you that she walks all over you and takes you for granted?
You: What do you mean?
's Fate: Oh come now, , don't forget I know so very much about you. You rarely ever say 'no' to your Princess and when you do stand up to her she eventually where's you down with entitled whining.
You reflect on that comment. Yes, it's true, you rarely say no and she has been acting more and more spoiled as she gets older. Yet, if that means she's happy she might still talk to you once you divorce her mother.
's Fate: And you should hear how she talks about you behind your back. She has so little respect for you even after you bend over backward for her.
You feel blood rush into your cheeks as anger builds.
You: Listen, you gave me a choice and I said "NO!" That's final. I don't need to sit here and have you feed me bullshit about how my daughter feels about me. Most of what I do is for her happiness and I'll do anything to preserve her happiness.
There's a long pause before the blackmailer responds.
's Fate: You'll do anything?
You: That's right and that's final. I will not invade her privacy, so you can blackmail her.
Another long pause.
's Fate: Interesting. Your comments are duly noted. Let's move on shall we? Your next task is fairly simple. After work you'll go shopping at Dan's Adult World. I've left a package for you behind the counter. Inside the package are numerous items and an envelope. Don't worry about the items for now, but do read the instructions in the envelope before leaving that very respectable establishment.
You feel your blood pressure subside a little now that the topics been changed. Your also not terribly impressed by the blackmailers newest task and vow that if you ever find out who your blackmailer is you'll teach them how to really blackmail someone.
You: Fine. I'll go shopping.
's Fate: Very good. You'll hear from me soon.
With that your blackmailer signs out of chat.
The rest of the work day goes as usual. The only difference is adjusting to wearing the thong. By late afternoon you’ve managed to figure out how to wear them just right, so your balls are mostly contained in the triangle material. By the end of the day you’ve actually found yourself getting aroused and enjoying the way your hard cock sticks out the top and how the thong rubs against it. You even start to get comfortable with the feeling of the thin material cleaving your ass cheeks.
Once you finish up your day you jump in your car and head to Dan’s Adult World, which you’ve never been in, but know because of its reputation for being one of the sleaziest in the tri-state area.
You park behind the building and scurry inside hoping no one sees you. It isn't like anyone in this part of town would recognize you, but still, it's embarrassing to even be stepping foot in this place.
Dan's Adult World is dim inside. Roughly half a dozen men skulk quietly through shelves of pornography with their heads down. To the left is a hallway with a sign above it that says "BOOTHS." To the right are four rows of sex toys and bondage gear. You're actually a little impressed by how well stocked this place is with sex toys. There must be more perverts in the city than you realized.
Directly in front of you is a counter with an employee behind it who must be at least 18 due to the laws, but with the way he's dressed and his bowl-style haircut looks to be about 15. You step to the counter.
"I'm here to pick-up a package," you say hoping there won't be any need to say your name out loud.
With the voice of a 12-year-old going through puberty he responds, "We have lots of packages, Sir, what name would it be under?"
"."
He turns and looks through a stack of boxes behind the counter. As he looks at the label on the largest box on the floor he says loudly, " ."
Your fairly certain everyone in the store has looked up and is now staring at you. You glance up briefly and wonder if the one guy looking at his mobile is googling your name.
"Yes. That's my name."
He smiles and plops the package on the counter in front of you, "Oh, this was a very interesting package to put together, Mr. ."
He guffaws and punches some numbers into the register, "That'll be $1243.26."
Your blood pressure starts to rise again, but you grit your teeth and slap down your credit card.
He runs your card and hands you the receipt. After he does so, and before you can protest, he opens up the box and pulls out an envelope, "I was told to make sure you received this before you left with the package, Mr. ." |