Blackmail in Action – Julia’s Timebomb. Chapter Two.

In October of 2021, while the world and its silly leaders were spinning the wheels, somewhere in the hidden depths of the internet, horny people were reading the story of a girl who was driven by her innermost desires into the challenge of her life. I call her Julia, but you know that’s not her name. As Ting Tings once said

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>“three-letter word just to get me along. It’s a difficulty, and I’m biting my tongue”.

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You can find the first chapter to that story here:

>!sexystories doesn’t allow links. Find the first chapter in my profile.!<

*“Uuuuuu … finally! Took you long enough! What the fuck were you doing all this time?”*

*“Well, you know, I got a life. Puzzles to crack, bitches to tame. It’s all hard work.”*

*“You never answered my question. Was this real?”*

*“If you didn’t figure it out by now, you may never do, but I’ll throw you a bone. Stick around for this story and, if you’re smart enough, you may find in there some clues to your path.”*

*“Ok, tell me the story.”*

*“Here we go:”*

**d**

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One of the first things that you learn in a job as a bartender is that you’ll get silly requests. It’s a job, like any other, but it’s hard to imagine a, say, tech support being called by a drunk customer with the request to make them drunker – and to add to their entertainment while at it. It was nothing out of the ordinary then when the tall brunette with a slender and commanding figure came to the bar and dropped her large breasts on the counter with a devious smile and a bit of a proposition.

Cleavage noticed, eyes averted, professional demeanor engaged and focus on the corner table closer to the front window, he spotted the person she was talking about: a small blondish young woman, teen or 20ish, perfectly underdressed and looking a bit shaky about it – she kept adjusting her tiny skirt – with a kinky choker around her neck. As the woman left the bar, he turned to his reliable partner in crime to pass the instructions.

Those two had arrived the night before. Silas Webb was closer to the reception desk at the time, helping out with clearing dinner tables and spotted them as they crossed the lounge. He wouldn’t have thought twice about it except for the quirkiness of the scene: the tall brunette came strolling ahead, while the short blondish girl was trailing behind carrying all the bags, one strapped around her shoulder, two in each hand and, oddest of all, a large oblong box dragged like a coffin, morosely scratching the floor, that she pulled from her torso with what can only be described as some kind of harness. It was some 4 feet in length by 2 feet in width and it didn’t open transversely but from an upper section parallel to the top. For all purposes it looked like a magician’s box, moreover because there were openings that exposed its hollow interior, a large round one on the back side and a smaller circle on the front.

>“And all my friends are turning green, you look like the magician’s assistant in their dreams.”

– at least, that’s what he thought.

They checked in and, as the clerk called for the bellboy, the tiny girl dropped the bags and sat with a sigh of relief on the box – no more than for 5 seconds – she was immediately up on her feet again, like if jolted by an electric charge. A rather awkward scene to be sure – not unnoticed by an amused concierge – those birds were putting on a show. Edgar, the bellboy, made mention to reach for the bags, only to be held back by Miss ‘look-at-me-when-I’m-talking-to-you’ , who handed him her tiny purse giving him the arm like if they were an old couple in a promenade down to the lift. Tiny slave was left behind to drag her load by herself, and up the stairs as it seems.

There was this moment right before the lift doors closed when you could sense Miss commander give this devious smile and a little nod. Mister Webb couldn’t help himself – as web usually doesn’t – and managed to catch a glimpse of an upskirt before she turned on the landing to go up to the next floor.

What exactly was the purpose of that box was still on his mind while he observed the waitress carrying on her task to the best of her abilities.

Stacey – that’s not her name either – approached the table with a new round of drinks for the guests at the corner table: pints of beer for the two gentlemen, a Dry Martini for the lady in red, a Mint Julep for the lady in black and a glass of water for the target, the tiny blonde with a choker and a tight white shirt.

Drinks served, she noticed the girl trembling a bit, was it a moan she heard? One could feel the waitress was all giggly inside, but she kept a straight face as she picked up the empty glasses and, as requested, bumped on the glass of water, right on target. Down it went all over the poor girl’s white shirt.

Beautiful breasts showed up like the color guard of a carnival parade and Stacey couldn’t help herself from a thirsty look before resuming her apologetic performance. Poor girl immediately went for the napkin, only to have her hand restrained by the lady in black.

A word of advice was needed:

– One of the gentlemen might want perhaps to change places to the top of the table, blocking view from the room?

– Sure, love, we’ll do that. Here, this is for you. Think nothing of it. We’re fine.

– You’re fine, right Julia? Say thank you to the lady.

– Thank you Miss.

And off Stacey went, with a nice tip and a giggle… there was definitely moaning coming from that table to her ears.

**v**

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*“Ok, now I know this is fiction.”*

*“Why do you say that?”*

*“There’s no way you’d know of all this and the Silas character doesn’t exist.”*

*“Silas Webb?”*

*“Yeah, that one.”*

*“Mr Webb is kind of everywhere around these days.”*

*“Oh, so you mean …”*

*“I mean you keep interrupting me before the end, and there are things you’ll only understand if you’re willing to get to the bottom of it.”*

**G**

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It was one of those nights when you don’t feel like going home. There’s nothing there waiting for you except for an empty couch and a bottle of beer, and I try to not make a habit of drinking every day. Taking the long way home I thought of driving aimlessly. But driving aimlessly usually meant taking the route of the boulevard round the corner where working girls could be found walking about in less than presentable clothing.

You know how it is. You don’t mean to stop, it’s just a distraction for the eyes. Or at least I could say that to myself until I stopped. I spotted the red head dressed like a bollywood actress down the road in front of the public library. She looked so out of place out there. The midriff top was frighteningly small but the long Indian skirt was a novelty in that scene.

I was unsure if that was a bold young actress venturing night downtown just out of a play or part of the working girls crew. I went round the block to check her out again and she had already made a turn heading to the corner of the old movie theater. She must have recognized my car, because she sent me a wink and a wave.

Well, I had to stop then. I told her I didn’t really want to fuck. It’s weird, I know, and I thought she’d turn me down, but she just opened the door and came in. I drove around the park lake and stopped on the top of the hill with a view to the night skyline.

We made out by the Velvet’s songs and she was all over the moon about that, and that was different … Of all things I would have expected, validation on my musical taste was not one of them.

Well, turns out she was no working girl after all. I couldn’t help it, she ended up riding me all night long. Just before dawn I left her near the train station. She hadn’t given me her name and I didn’t ask. Maybe Mary-Jo-Lisa, always the same. I just sat there watching her walk away and then she stopped and came running back.

She jumped on the hood and sat there with her legs open like an Indian goddess, she put both hands on the window and looked at me in the eyes and then breathed, clouding the window. She wrote a number with her fingers, then stood back, flashed me her titties, and jumped off, and then she was gone.

**3**

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*“And why was that your biggest regret?”*

*“Only real regrets are for those things you never did.”*

*“You didn’t call her?”*

*“No, but maybe you can … Or, maybe, you can be her.”*

**A**

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They left the club at around 2 am. Night was still young, there were lots of people still coming in, but they were done with the club part. She was made to go to the restroom, strip in one of the stalls and edge, then leave her clothes there and edge again inside each and every stall before she could go back to retrieve her clothes. Only when she got back clothes were not there anymore. She had to venture naked to the corridor to find Mz Anna smiling at her.

She had clothes for her, alright, but not the ones she had come into the club with. It was a minuscule white top, as sheer as glass and a skirt that was not much longer than some belts. She was passed around on the dance floor. They made her drink all sorts of cocktails and in some of those there were the product of cocks in the mix. She was teased to no end with the vibrator inside her pussy and was not once allowed to cum. She wouldn’t even know how long it was since her last orgasm, had she not been tasked with writing the date on her social media.

And now they were back at the side road where they had parked the rental and she was taking the box out of the trunk … that box. The one she had been made to tell people to come and find on the alley on the back of the club. The box opened on the side to show a sort of bodyboard in the middle, where she was to lay her breasts, while kneeling for the legs to fit under it. Her torso thrust to the front, a ring gag in her mouth and that connected and bound to the smaller hole in the front, leaving pussy and asshole on display on the hole on the back. Her wristcuffs were secured to padlocks and the box was closed. She was left there. A piece of luggage on the back alley of a club. For how long? And for how many?

**3**

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*“Let me guess: guys approach to fuck her and then she falls from the box into a water tank where she’s immediately drowned and magically reappears safe and sound on the back of the audience?”*

*“That would be cool… but wrong movie. Perhaps I can include it in my next trick. Think of a lucky number.”*

*“Ok, thought of one.”*

*“Now forget about it. That was just misdirection. Take the opposite of a lucky number … and rotate.”*

*“Like … spinning?”*

*“Not quite, you have to follow the clues, remember? How else will you know who I’m talking about. Code breaking is basic for this sort of puzzle.”*

**m**

=====================================================================================**From the encyclopedia:** *“Physicists define time as the progression of events from the past to the present into the future. Basically, if a system is unchanging, it is timeless. Time can be considered to be the fourth dimension of reality, used to describe events in three-dimensional space. It is not something we can see, touch, or taste, but we can measure its passage.”*

**From the recollections of a horny girl:** *“They’re so wrong about that. I could feel, I could see, touch and taste time. It tasted salty and creamy. It tasted like the alcohol that was running through my veins. It smelled like pot and cookies. It smelled like cocks that came from my pussy. I was lost in time in my ridiculously small space. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t see, sometimes I could barely breath. I thought I might die … and yet, I was not afraid. Felt like a good way to go.”*

=====================================================================================First came the earbuds, then came the sounds, a monotone heartbeat that expanded and contracted, a pulse that she could feel reverberating, from her veins to the dark world around her, a continuous dance of lights clashing with the darkness of her closed eyes, as if the electric charges of her brain had their own volition, producing an eerie feeling of being inside the womb again, she was a baby inside of a box.

Then came her voice, whispering, the sound of a long distant call from far out in the darkness, and then incisive, louder, commanding, a voice inside her brain, she was then a puppet, a doll inside of a box.

Then came the intoxication of alcohol and dreams, the longing of things she didn’t know, the goosebumps all over her skin as she felt a shadow passing over her, dragging her spirit out of her body, and then she was floating, then she was flying, then she was a ghost, a ghost inside of a box.There was something pressing her anus, she felt the penetration. What was that? Her first buttplug. She was 13. After those things that had happened to her, when she couldn’t yet make sense of why and how to move forward.

They had left a mark on her, there was a rip on her pussy lips that would never be quite the same again. She had blood in her feces for two days. And they would probably be back there again today… Today… when is it? Where is … today?They’re there, watching from the stands. I’m on the court, jumping to block a ball over the net, in my tight uniform, my yellow spandex showing a cameltoe, with a buttplug in my ass. I could feel it at every jump, I could feel them all looking at me, I could feel it getting wet, leaving a wet spot for all to see, for them to see what they had done to me… I jumped to the floor to catch a ball. I was on the floor and they were fucking me, there’s someone fucking me right now… now… when is now? where is now?I can’t breath, there’s something in my throat, coming in and out. I’m trying to hold my gag reflex. The feeling of nausea making what’s left of my brain drift apart. I don’t wanna think anymore. Her voice is telling me and I know I don’t have to think, it’s ok to not have any thoughts anymore. I’m a hole, I’m hollow, I’m empty, the nausea is gone and I can taste him in my mouth, inside of me. I’m avessel… fill me up.My pussy is dripping, someone is licking my pussy. Is it Miss? No, Miss is speaking to me. I can hear her in the dark, inside my head. Is it a dog? Am I dog? My pussy is vibrating. My whole body is vibrating. I’m looking at the screen and I have a vibrator in my hands now… Now… when is now? Where is now?“Give up control. Corrupt your soul.”… Yes, I remember. That was the title on that website… I was masturbating.The timebomb challenge, they said.Things you’ll need: a thumbdrive, a camera, an ID, proof of address, 10 minutes of your time … they said.Create a simple text document, they said.You’re going to do a very short video, they said.Get all those photos, the text file and the video and stick them together in a file, they said.And I did… Oh God, I did. I was vibrating. They were pounding. I’m vibrating. They are pounding. I’m cumming. They are fucking me. Oh God, I wanted this. I want this. I need this.I can hear her voice… as I heard it once, at the end of the summer, when was it? Where was it?She said:- My name is Anna …and I have your file.

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– Was that what you were expecting? Or do you think you got more than you bargained for?

– She was not the first one, you know?

– Who was the first?

– I had done it before. This guy found my drive. He asked me out, bought me flowers, thanked me for doing what I did and offered to delete the contents of the drive.

– Do you think he felt guilty about it? That he didn’t really want to force you through blackmail?

– Yes, probably. I was relieved, not gonna lie.

– But then you went ahead and did it all over again… Why?

– I didn’t know myself, until that day. I mean, I had these fantasies, partly horny partly trauma,I don’t really know where they come from.

– What kind of fantasies?

– Walking alone on the street, a van stops beside me and I’m dragged inside. They drug me, fuck and abuse me … and they have it all recorded. I wake up in the middle of nowhere, covered in bruises. I get home and phone pings and there are pictures of me smiling, videos of me asking them to do disgusting things to me. And then there are tasks and rules and I follow them, to the letter, and Iedge, until that’s all I can think about and… that’s it, I’m a sex slave.

– But it didn’t quite work like this on the first time and that’s why you went for another try?

– He was nice. I liked him. But I didn’t want him to be nice.

– And what about that day made you understand how you felt?

– She could have just left me there. But she never really left. I was lost in a bubble of pureecstasy, I wasn’t me anymore, there’s really no me, just holes. But she came back and she hugged and kissed me, even in that awful state. I probably smelled like piss. Some of them finished off peeing in my mouth. She didn’t care. She put the leash on my collar and I followed her … a naked dog crawling on the streets. I think that was the happiest day of my life.

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*“Just to be clear. That’s the girl from the puzzle?”*

*“Correct.”*

*“And I need to rotate and use the clues to find … what?”*

*“Think of where Mr Webb would have pictures for you to find. There’s an address. Count the letters and you’ll get there.”*

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– Mr. Webb, may I have a word?There she was again, the tall brunette with the devious smile.

– Yes Ma’am, what can I do for you?

– You wouldn’t know anything about this envelope that was slipped under my door, would you?

– No, Ma’am, what envelope?

– Let’s say I noticed somebody in a crowd at a club I went to last night. Would you know anything about that?

– eh … not really. Should I?

– No, no, it’s nothing important. I just like to analyze things in hypothetical terms. Bear with me, please. Let’s imagine that by chance I were to be close friends with the owner of this hotel and I happened to receive a certain list of demands from one of his employees. Do you think he would be inclined to let go of that precious employee on my behalf?

– Ma’am, I … I don’t know what to say…

– Oh, you don’t need to say anything Mr. Webb. You’re simply lurking in the corners of the dark deep web, waiting for your prey. I need to inform you, my dear, that there’s really no prey here. What you fantasize about, may happen, but you need to find those willing to come along. This one is taken. Trust me, seek and you shall find.

– …

– Now be a good boy and get me a Bloody Mary.

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Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/t5agrl/blackmail_in_action_julias_timebomb_chapter_two