Diane Blackmailed

...from  Chapter 18 ...

Diane stared into the Mexican's dark eyes, looked at her luscious lips, slowly down her neck to her titties, perky little dark nipple she longed to lick, touch with the tip of her tongue, while Kitten opened her legs so Diane could kiss her way down to...How could she explain this to Rodrigo? Her mind raced, bounded from thought to thought, unwanted, uncontrollable...the faces blended, bodies merged, but through it all, one face kept coming back. Eyes drilling into her soul. Masozi.

CHAPTER 19 [Week 7 Thurs - Fri]

"Breakfast time," Julie said. Diane opened her eyes looked around. The pole with the drip bag was gone and the ceiling was just dirty white again. She felt the weight of her tits pulling at her chest - she was bigger than before, she could feel it.

"Sit up," Julie said. Diane wrapped her arms around her tits and turned her body, swinging her legs off the edge of the bed, bending forward at the waist.

"So, let's see the new udders," Julie said. Diane slowly lowered her arms. Julie took a tape measure and wrapped it around her, measuring her twice. "Just G cup again." She shook her head. "We thought that if we did it sooner, we could get you to take more." She shrugged. "Oh well, he was satisfied with your pictures." She threw the measuring tape on the table.

"You gonna eat?" She pointed to some pieces of sliced fruit and a half-eaten piece of toast on a plate. "Curtis left that for you. Go on." Diane reached to pick up the toast, had to move her arms out wide not to jostle her sore breasts. These things were a nuisance in more than one way.

Julie looked at her watch. "You want coffee? We have another ten minutes."

Diane looked at her confused. "I have to get to work." She took a bite of the toast. "What time is it?"

"It's nine in the morning. Here, have some coffee." Julie handed her the cup but Diane was shaking her head. "No, no, you have to get my clothes and get me..."

A knock on the door interrupted them. "That's probably Ricky." Diane stared at her, head swimming, not sure what to say. Julie got up and went to the door, slid the bolt and undid the chain. She opened it a crack, saw that it was Ricky and let him in.

"What the fuck," Ricky complained. He stepped behind Diane and sniffed. "Phew! Get her a shower, she stinks!" Diane got up and went into the bathroom, still holding her chest with her arms, and turned on the water in the shower. After several minutes, she heard Julie from the other room. "Don't get warm, honey! Jest get yo ass in there."

Diane took a quick shower, toweled herself off and walked back into the bedroom. The man threw her a bag and said "get dressed." She opened the bag and took out a pair of platform shoes, white plastic with wide ankle straps. Next was a white cotton top that barely covered her chest. She pulled it on, the tops and sides hanging out of the stretchy material, and looked down at it. In red letters, it said "Stop staring at my tits! (Touch Them!)" The top hung loose, the bottom of her tits showed if she moved at all. The next thing in the bag was a tube skirt - bright red. She pulled it up her legs and over her hips, it was skintight and only about eight inches wide. She adjusted it several different ways but it was no use. If she pulled it down in back to cover her ass, the front revealed the top of her slit. And if she pulled it up, the bottoms of her ass cheeks were exposed. She settled for the best compromise she could find. Ricky watched her fidget, finding the whole thing very amusing.

"All right, I think she's ready," Ricky said. "Julie! Hair and makeup, OK? Five minutes, just make her good enough, nothing special." He looked at her. "Her titties are all they're gonna be lookin' at anyway." Julie took Diane into the bathroom and silently brushed her hair, put on hooker eye-shadow and lipstick, and brought her back to Ricky.

"Let's go," he said. He threw a fifty dollar bill to Julie and said "I'll have her back by six."

Diane panicked, turned to Julie. "I HAVE to get to work, I can't just not show up! I have to..." Julie turned and walked out of the room and Diane stopped talking.

When Ricky pulled the car to the curb, Diane looked at him in terror. "What are you doing? Where are we going?" Ricky laughed. "We're here. This is where you work today."

She looked out the window of the car. They were downtown, just blocks from her office.

"I can't get out here. What do you want me to do? Where should I go?" Diane was completely puzzled. This wasn't a party or a red light street corner, this was just downtown. What could he do to her other than embarrass her?

"Are you fucking stupid or what?" he growled, staring at her.

"No, no, I just don't know what you want," she pleaded.

Ricky stared at her. "Fuck, maybe you really are just that naive." He stepped on the gas and drove another few blocks, pulled into a street lot and parked. The attendant walked over, handed Ricky a ticket, looked into the car. "You're not setting up shop, are you?" he asked. Ricky shook his head, "no, but maybe you can help her out a little. She's new." The man nodded. He looked at Diane. "Come on."

Still puzzled, Diane got out and walked around the car. "I'll be back at six, OK?" Ricky asked the man. He nodded. "Give us a second," Ricky said. The man nodded and walked back to his booth. Ricky looked at Diane. "I expect to see five hundred dollar or you will be in some very serious trouble." He paused. "With Monish. And the people you work with. That would be quite a loss, you must make pretty good money."

Ricky drove to the other end of the parking lot, then out into traffic and away. Diane looked at the booth, saw the man was making a phone call, started walking toward him. He hung up the phone.

"So, you're new in town?" Diane nodded, still confused but going along. "What's your specialty? Suck or fuck?" Diane looked at him. He didn't know her and he was already as crude as Julie or any of the others. What kind of life was this going to be? "Both," she said. "OK. Well, your best bet is the alley running behind Second Street."

Diane stared at him, she had no idea what he meant. Streetwalking in the alley? He smiled. "You really *are* new at this, aren't you?" She just stared. "Here's the drill. There's two ways you can go. You either work the pay lots and watch for guys going to their cars, you know, for lunch or to go home, and try to get some business that way. Or, you walk the alleys and keep an eye out for doors opening. A dishwasher taking a break, or a janitor taking out the trash. Sometimes, an exec out for a smoke, that kind of thing. You pick up maybe twenty dollars a pop, sometimes you get a tip." He stared at her. "If he likes titties, you might get a big tip." Diane's head was swimming, this was insane. Five hundred dollars at twenty dollars each was twenty five men. In eight hours.

A car pulled into the lot and the man stood up. "I gotta go to work. Come back here at lunch time if you're running behind, maybe I can make some calls for you."

Diane was afraid to walk down the alley, she'd always been warned about it and had always been cautious. She walked down the sidewalk alongside the parking lot, seeing the men's eyes staring at her enormous chest with "Touch Them!" prominently displayed. She passed several men and women, each of who stared at her in their own special way. A group of five college aged boys walked by, hooting and whistling, but declining to actually touch her. She felt the deep shame running through her like fire - she was beneath them all, too filthy a whore to even touch.

When she reached the end of the block, she turned and looked both ways. There was a truck parked at the mouth of the alley to the left, nothing to the right. She turned right and walked past the doors of the corner building.

The alley was dark even at this early hour. She saw steam coming from the wall vents, cardboard boxes and garbage stacked along the sides of the alley. The ground was dirty, she saw water pooled behind some of the buildings and a smelly trickle ran down the middle of the alley.

She clutched her small purse tight, stepped gingerly into the alley. She was surprised at her own hesitancy. After all she'd been through, she was afraid to be alone in an alley. She knew what it was. This was a new kind of depravity, even for her. This wasn't the apartment, or someone's basement, or even a cheap flea-bag hotel. This was an alleyway a few blocks away from where she worked. Anyone from work could see her, could use her, could spread the story around the building, ruining what was left of her life.

She walked past the first metal door, heard voices behind it laughing and arguing. There was a stairway going down into complete blackness, a garbage can at the top overflowing with discarded food. She shuddered and kept walking. A door at the far end of the alley swung open and she saw a man carrying a trash can over his shoulder. He spun and emptied it into a dumpster, banging it against the edge to make sure it was empty. He turned and looked at Diane. She froze, didn't know what to do. The man stared at her for a moment, then threw the can onto his shoulder and went back into the building, pulling the door closed after him with a loud clang.

Diane took another step forward and felt something soft underneath her foot. She looked down and saw that she's stepped on a rotten tomato. She shook her foot, the fruit plopped onto the ground behind her.

She looked up and down the alley, it was still empty and dark. She was desperate for sleep, looked at some of the piles of refuse and considered clearing off a spot and taking a nap. But, whenever she actually got close to the piles of boxes, the smell of rotting food changed her mind.

There was a loud metallic noise behind her and Diane turned around. A door was opening slowly, its bottom scraping against the concrete. A fat man in a white butcher's apron came out, a cardboard box in his hand. Diane's nose went up when she saw sticky red liquid dripping from the box onto his shoe.

"Heya, honey," he said with a grin. "Out a little early today, ain't cha?" He forced the door closed with his foot, walked past her, staring at her chest. "Touch 'em, huh?" He lifted the box high and threw it into the dumpster. He wiped his hands on his apron, eyes locked on her huge tits. "So, what? You too good to talk?"

Diane stammered, "no, no...just it's early and...I haven't had my coffee yet."

He laughed and walked around her, pulling the door open again. "Well, when you're ready, honey, I got the cream." He patted his crotch, laughed and went into the building, pulling the door closed with a thud.

Diane shook. This was insane. She was standing nearly naked in an alleyway, surrounded by trash and rotting food, unsure how she as going to come up with five hundred dollar before Ricky came to pick her up. Another doorway down the alley opened and two men stepped out, looked up and down the alley, spotted Diane. She saw the one man hit the other, pointed at her. "See?" They walked toward her, eyes leering, the man behind licking his lips and making "mmm!" sounds.

"How much?" the first man asked. Diane tried to sound secure and casual. "Fifty." The man shook his head. "Forty." She nodded. The man started unzipping his pants and pointed. "Up against the wall." Diane turned obediently, braced her hands against the wall and spread her legs. The man rolled the bottom of the skirt up around her waist and spit on his cock, rubbing it a few times before he shoved it into her. He fucked her fast and hard, came in less than five minutes. "Damn. Nice tight pussy, Darryl. Come and get it." He pulled his cock out with a plop! Diane heard a glob of cum splash against the ground, felt some splash onto her foot. Darryl, younger and stronger, dropped his pants around his knees and pushed up into her. His cock was longer and thicker and Diane moaned. This was more like it. She started to grind against him, but he came even quicker than his friend. He pulled out, zipped his pants up and stepped back. Diane rolled the skirt back down over her bottom and turned to them, her hand open and out. The first man pulled two twenty dollar bills out of his pocket and dropped them in her hand. She turned to Darryl. He looked at her. "Whut?" She snapped, "forty for him, forty for you." He laughed. "Stupid hooker. Forty for both of us." He sneered at her. "What? Think your cunt's made a' gold?" They high-fived each other and walked back down the alley laughing. Diane watched them as they walked away, felt a trickle of cum ooze out between her cunt lips, warm against the inside of her right thigh.

It was nearly an hour before the second john came. He had her suck and swallow, paid her ten dollars. He said she was hot and asked how long she would be there, she told him "until six." He said he'd make a few calls. In about half an hour, they started showing up. Twos and threes, fucking her on her hands and knees, with her back scaping against the wall, face down in the stairwell, blindfolded, handcuffed. The tit fuckers started showing up around two, spraying her tits, neck, chin and belly. Someone had taken her top off long ago and draped it over a nearby trash can. Before long, Diane was covered with warm, sticky semen. The men started playing with her, wiping the cum around on her face and tits, pushing it into her ears, mouth and nose, then taking their turn fucking her in the mouth or between her tits. Diane didn't get turned on until that began. The way they used her for nothing but a cum dump got to her. She was masturbating herself now as they were came at her. Some of them were able to stand perfectly still, her body moving up and down as she fingered herself, her tits fucking their stiff cocks.

When Ricky arrived at six that night, Diane was laying on a bed of open newspapers laid out on top of a pile of garbage, pinching and twisting her nipples while a skinny man in dirty clothes and long, filthy hair humped away at her. Her legs were wrapped around his back, the white shoes swinging back and forth as he pounded away at her. He came with a grunt, then got up and turned around, spotting Ricky. "You next?" Ricky saw his scruffy beard and missing teeth and shook his head. "Nice ass, you outta take a shot at it" he said, dropping a crumpled ten dollar bill on Diane's belly. Ricky looked down and saw Diane's asshole twitching, a glob of cum oozing out of it. Diane's eyes were closed and she was still hurting herself, pulling her nipple hard, grinding her hips and muttering, "...Traci Topps. 36J. Mine are bigger. Jenna Jameson. 32F. Mine are bigger..."

"She didn't make it. You owe me money." Ricky was leaning over the table, barking at Julie. "You owe me four hundred and twenty dollars. Don't fuck with me or I go to Monish."

"Fuck you, shithead. Monish don't owe you nothin'." She turned to look at Diane, passed out from exhaustion on the bed. "She tol' you what happened."

"She told me she was robbed. How many times a week do you think I hear that? You're in the business. You know."

"This one isn't like that," Julie sneered.

"Says you. Listen, just cough up the money and I'll get out of your hair. Otherwise, I go to Monish."

Julie was tired of hearing that. But he was right. Monish was not the kind you could reason with. Julie went into the other room and pulled a laptop computer out of a bottom drawer. She pressed the keys, waited, pressed more keys. "There. $500 transferred to your account. Happy?" Ricky pulled out his phone, tapped in some numbers and checked his account. "Happy."

Julie made put the computer back in the bottom drawer. Later, she'd decide whether or not to let Diane know she's paid Ricky from Diane's credit card. She locked the drawer and went back into the front room. With Ricky gone, she was alone with Diane. This one was a gold-mine, no doubt. On the one hand, Monish had her scared for her job, on the other hand, she loved the abuse. You couldn't beat that combination. They could sell her to the higher class clients who liked the ones that were "into it".

Julie looked at Diane, watched her sleep, wondered whether to introduce her to crack yet or not. No, not now, no reason to go that far right now. Her fear about losing her job was still a strong enough motivator. Julie went to the refrigerator and made a plate of leftovers, then took there of Monish's pills out of Diane's stash - no use wasting hers - and put them on the plate next to the fried chicken.

"Diane, honey?" She nudged the sleeping woman. "Diane, I need you on the streets in fifteen minutes, but I want you to have a bite first."

Julie worked Diane until five the next morning, then had one of the girls drive her home so she could change. Monish was pissed when he found out Ricky had made her skip a day of work without even calling in. If she lost her job, he'd lose his grip and they'd have to come up with something else to control her. He threatened Ricky, Ricky paid Julie the five hundred dollar back and they agreed she would show up at work on Friday morning. Julie pocketed the money. No need to credit Diane's account, what was the point?

Diane came home horny and unable to sleep. Twice during the night, she'd turned her attention from the streets to the girls. There was a woman who reminded her of Masozi. She was a dark skinned woman who wore leather bracelets. That was enough to turn Diane on. She saw Masozi standing there in place of the whore with the skintight leggings and bikini top. When things were slow, she approached the woman and started talking. She pretended she was interested in horror movies because Keera - the other woman - was. They smoked some weed together. Diane was forward, touched Keera's arm, then leaned in for a kiss and soon she had her in one of the open rooms, Diane's face buried between her legs, Keera leaning lazy against the wall, smiling and enjoying the white woman's tongue. She came quietly then just said to Diane, "that's enough for now, honey." She rolled down her skirt. She leaned closer and pushed Diane's upper lip back with her finger. With her other hand, she pulled a strand of pubic hair from between Diane's teeth. She pressed it into Diane's palm. "A little souvenir." She smiled. "I might want you to lick my bush again later, so stay close, OK? You know you want to, don't you?" Diane felt her words as a stab of humiliation and nearly came. "Yes," she whispered hoarsely.

The second woman that night was shorter and plump but something about her eyes pulled Diane in. This time, though, the woman was wild in bed. She yanked Diane's hair, ground her hips against her face, told her when to speed up and when to slow down. She came bucking and grinding, then left Diane exhausted on the bed and went downstairs to tell her girlfriends that Julie's new white meat was a pussy-eater. When Diane came down the stairs, they all stared, taunting her and flashing their tits and asses at her. Keera came to her rescue, waving them off. "This one's mine," she said, wrapping her arm around Diane. "Her nice pink tongue belongs right...here," she said, running a finger between her legs underneath her skirt. She presented it to Diane who licked it clean. The two of them working the south end of the block for the rest of the night.

Diane couldn't fall asleep, wouldn't if she could. She was afraid she would miss the alarm clock if she did, so she took three more pills and turned on the television set. It didn't help. The faces of the laughing whores kept whirling around in her tired brain.

At around seven, she went into the kitchen for a snack and noticed there was a message on her answering machine. She pressed the Play button and heard Lars' voice. He had tracked down Saabira and arranged for them to meet at six tonight. He told her to make sure she showed up. Saabira was very secretive about her life and had been difficult to track down. She made it clear she was only doing this as a favor to Lars. Diane listened to the message again, thrilled and aroused. She pictured Masozi, naked and glistening, holding a whip in her hand and wondering where on her body it would land first.

She took a taxi to work and was in line to buy coffee for herself and Rodrigo when she froze. Rodrigo. He had seen her on the street-corner the other night. She bought the coffees anyway, considering the best way to talk to him. Casual, try and ignore it, maybe he would think he was wrong? No. It had been perfectly clear that they recognized each other. Indignant? It was none of his business after all what she did after work. Then, she realized she was actually in a better position than she thought. What was *he* doing on the streets picking up hookers? Rodrigo was a married man with two kids. She could push back if he tried to say anything to her. As the elevator door closed, she shook her head. She knew better. Men could do that. Women couldn't. She'd still be the whore in the picture.

Rodrigo accepted the coffee from her politely and made a joke about the weather but didn't look her in the eye. She was fine with that and settled into her cubicle. She stared at her computer, trying to focus. She was running on so little sleep the number of hours didn't matter anymore. She had slept a total of nine hours in the last 5 days. She was living on speed.

At the staff meeting at ten o'clock, she incorrectly referred to one of her clients as a Mexican company (they were based in Spain), missed a page of numbers in an estimate she was reading, and called a coworker by the wrong last name. Vader looked at her politely, noticed her chest had grown again, and cut the meeting short. He called her into his office and told her to take the rest of the day off. They would need to talk on Monday but he didn't think she could hold an intelligent conversation right now.

Diane tried to protest but he raised his hand. "Listen, Diane, this is getting worse and worse. Take a day off, maybe a few days off. I noticed you took yesterday off without calling." She hung her head. "Whatever is going on, you need to get through it fast so you can start concentrating on your job again. Go home."

Diane walked out of his office slowly but realized there was only one thought in her head. She would see Masozi tonight. She nearly stumbled walking to the elevator, her head filled with images of the whores from last night, Vader's face - now more angry than disappointed, Rodrigo in the car, and, behind them all, Masozi, the goddess, waiting, watching, enjoying her struggles.

"Going home early, Bates?" Diane looked at Bailey, his big evil smile told her she might not go straight home. "Come on. Let's do it," she said. "Oh, no, I'm not in the mood, honey. But I was wondering, does Monish knows you have the day off?" Diane stared at him. "There's what, maybe six hours between now and quitting time? I know he doesn't like to miss an opportunity to make a few dollars with one of his favorite products." Bailey took her by the wrist and led her to the elevator. Once they were inside with the door closed, he took out his cell phone. "Let's give him a ring, shall we?" Diane squirmed. She needed the time, needed to show up at Saabira's place refreshed and ready. "Bailey, no, listen, Bailey..." but it was too late. He was talking to Monish who told him to put her in a taxi and send her back to Julie.

...chapter 20...

Julie was waiting when Diane got out of the taxi. "Hi, honey. It's nice to have you back so soon." She walked back into the hotel room motioned for Diane to follow. "I have a few phone calls to make, I'll be right with you." She walked into the kitchen, looked around for her phone book. "By the way, Curtis and I have been talking. We think it's time to go ahead and make your tits permanent. You market tested well." Diane froze. What was she talking about? Breast surgery? Julie pulled open a drawer. "Where the hell is that book? It won't be for a few weeks, we have to talk Monish into it, but we're pretty sure. Ah! Here it is." She reached for the phone. Diane interrupted her. "Listen, Julie. I already have something scheduled tonight. I need to be gone by five."

...to be continued if you want...