You walk into the shop and quickly glance around nervously. From every angle, images of half-naked and naked women leer out at you. In the back of the store you see stands of adult DVDs. Closer to the entrance are shelve of dildos, lubricants, chains, and every other sex toy imaginable. And all the way in the back corner you see a sign that reads “Video Booths.”
It’s the middle of the day. A few middle-aged men walk semi-furtively around the store, looking at magazines and videos and avoiding each other’s eyes. A bored looking man in his 40s sits behind a cash register. He glances disinterestedly towards you, then starts and looks again.
It’s fall, but it has been warm, and you know your unseasonable thigh-length coat has caught his attention. With your bare legs and high heels, you look like a stereotype of a sex-crazed flasher.
For a minute you think about running, about turning around and rushing back to the privacy of your car. You even take a half-step backwards. But then you remember: The pictures. The videos. How easily I could send them to your boss, your friends, your family.
Steeling yourself, you walk over to the counter. Fighting down your nervousness, you ask in a loud voice, “Can you tell me where the vibrators are?” Despite yourself, you feel a flush of heat go through your body when every man in the store looks your way, and you feel their eyes hungrily examine your body.
With an amused grunt, the man gestures to the shelf behind you. You couldn’t miss it, but you had been ordered to ask. And you know I am listening on the phone tucked into your pocket.
Nervously you walk over to the shelf and scan the available choices. A rainbow of colors and shapes greets your eyes. Pretending to browse, you bend over at the waist, examining the options on the lower shelves. As you bend, you feel the hem of your coat rise, until eventually anyone looking your way can see that you are not only naked under the coat, but that you have a sparkling pink jeweled plug in your ass. You can feel the stares of all the men in the store as you slowly count to 10 in your head. To your horror and shame, you feel your pussy getting wetter and wetter as you realize how fully on display you are. Count over, you slowly raise your torso back up, covering your ass once more.
Grabbing the largest battery-powered vibrator you see, you slowly walk up to the counter. “I’ll take this one,” you announce in a loud voice.
The clerk deftly pops it out of the packaging and slips a few batteries in. He turns it on to show you it works. It is particularly loud, and the buzzing can be heard throughout the store. He shuts it off and begins to remove the batteries, but you stop him with a gesture.
“Leave them in,” you say. “Just add it to my bill. And…” Here you pause uncertainly, but you know I am listening, waiting to see if you will obey. “And…” you begin nervously, avoiding the clerk’s eyes. “I’ll need some change for the video booths.”
The clerk rings up your order and hands you your change in quarters.
You make the long walk to the back of the store, the high heels putting a sway in your walk. You are painfully aware of the large vibrator clutched in your hands. You feel the hungry eyes of every man in the store watching you. Reaching the back, you quickly open one of the doors and slip into a booth.
You are in a dark, closet-sized room, dominated by a large screen on the wall opposite the door. A bench on a hinge slides down from the wall in front of the door, blocking anyone from coming in. Popping a few quarters into the slot by the screen, you navigate through the menu until you come to a particularly brutal BDSM film. Then you take out your phone and open the skype session.
As always, my end is darkened. “Hello slut,” I say. “Are you having fun?”
And as always, you feel an involuntary flood between your legs at the sound of my voice. “Yes sir,” you reply, knowing that is what I want to hear.
“And did you dress as I told you to?” I ask.
“Yes sir,” you answer. Then you remove your coat and carefully fold and place it on the bench.
You position the camera lens to show me you are completely naked under your coat. Across your breasts you have written in black marker, “Horny anal slut.” Just above your pussy you have written “Please fuck my holes”.
“Mmm…” I purr, pleased by the sight. “You’re a good girl.”
You flush, pleased with the praise despite yourself. “Thank you sir,” you murmur.
“OK slut, you know what to do. Remember, I want to hear you.”
Once again you consider running, putting your coat on and fleeing. But…those pictures.
“Yes sir,” you respond, moving to sit on the bench.
You begin to watch the movie, gently rubbing your pussy. You watch as the porn star on screen is tied to a bed and fucked by a string of men who slap, spank, pinch, and spit on her. Already aroused, you lean back, lips parted, and begin to rub more vigorously.
“Now, whore,” I order.
Wordlessly, you grab the vibrator and turn it on to its highest setting. The loud buzz echoes in the small room, clearly audible to everyone in the store. Placing it on your clit, you let the powerful vibrations wash over you, filling you with pleasure.
You feel the pleasure mounting, building until you think you will explode.
“Please sir,” you whisper, filled with shame at what you have become. “Can I cum?”
“What?” I scoff. “I can’t hear you.”
“Please sir,” you repeat, louder this time. Anyone standing near the door can probably hear you. “Sir, can I cum?”
“Louder slut. Convince me.”
The pleasure is too much. You are right on the edge. You want to give in, to let the orgasm wash over your whole body, but you have painfully learned the lesson of what happens when you cum without permission.
You know what you have to do. “Please sir!” you beg, loud enough to be heard by the clerk at the counter. “Please can your dirty whore cum? Please sir?”
There’s a pause from me that feels like it lasts for hours. Finally, when you feel like you can’t hold out any longer, you hear me say, “Cum for me, my little whore.”
At last able to give in, you gratefully let the orgasm rock through your body. Panting and moaning in pleasure, your screams exploding through the small booth, your body thrashes uncontrollably and one foot slams out, pounding against the wall. Your cries gradually dwindle in volume. As the last throes of your orgasm leave you, you switch the vibrator off and drop it to the floor from your limp fingers.
“How do you feel?” you hear me ask through your languid stupor.
“I feel good sir. Thank you for letting your worthless slut cum sir,” you murmur weakly.
“You’re a good girl. You’ve earned another day of safety.”
“Thank you sir,” you murmur.
I end the skype session from my end, and you lay on the bench for a few minutes, collecting yourself. There’s a huge wet spot on your coat, but at this point you don’t even care.
You think once again about trying to run, to get help. But you worry that no matter how you try to escape, those pictures and videos will still get released. And another part of you, a part you don’t like to think about, worries that if you do get free, all this will stop.
Putting your wet coat back on and pocketing your new vibrator, you prepare to walk out of the booth, past the eyes of all the men waiting outside. And you smile.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/j3vy8m/visiting_the_adult_video_store_freluctantblackmail