My name is Donna, and I work at a reputable law firm with a high-rise beach front office on the east coast. I'm middle-aged, slightly past the time of children. I'm happily married and have been for over twenty years. I have brown hair and eyes, D cup naturally. Not only do I work in the same office as Amy - I believe you've read about her - I'm also her boss. She's a thirty-something, married, virgin cuckquean that will spend the rest of her life in a chastity belt while her younger sister gets bred by her husband. She's not at all ashamed of this and now functions as the office whore, sucking cock or licking pussy. She's blissfully happy.

It was after a tryst in my office with her that she wrote down the name of a pimp that owns a hotel known as 'The Moonlight' out in the sticks, away from all civilization. She insisted I give him a call because my fantasy was to be a whore for just one night and have men use me as men used to use women. A way my husband has not touched me in over two decades of marriage.

Have you ever had a moment where you knew what you were doing was wrong - you felt it in your bones - yet it was exciting and an itch you just had to scratch? I've been trapped in this moment since Amy and I had sex in my office last week. Before she even left my office I was on the phone to her contact, "Shades". At first, I was too nervous to talk so I sort of stuttered a lot. Half an hour went by and I told him my fantasy. He gave me the code name "Raven" and told me to show up at the Moonlight, the following Wednesday, room number eleven, dressed in my sexiest outfit and to come alone. No ID or phone.

This place was as far off the grid as it gets. It was condemned around the time I was born. The asphalt parking lot had overgrown grass and weeds through cracks and slits through it, and the sign out front wasn't lit. The front office portion was caved in, having succumbed to the elements long ago. The pool was just a giant rectangle partially filled with sand, pebbles, and leaves. Room number eleven was hard to miss as it was the only one lit with a red light bulb, and all the others were dark. As instructed, I left my phone and driver's license in the car along and especially my wedding ring. No need for that. Tonight was all about leaving it behind and being someone else. Unless it was about becoming the real me, the one we keep hidden from others.

Obeying instructions to wear my sexiest outfit, I was wearing black six-inch stiletto heels, black fishnet stockings with black garters attached to a black laced teddy. My natural D-size breasts filled it out nicely. I had my hair done big like back in the 80s, gold hoop earrings, and black laced gloves. I was standing in front of door number eleven. My hands trembled. I tried a few times to take a breath and calm them, but I couldn't. The adrenaline was pumping too fast. My whole body was shaking. My right fist hovered inches away from the door. This was it - this moment. If I knocked I'd have to go through with it, or I could not knock, get back in my car, and forget the whole thing. Go back to life as normal.

If I wanted that, I wouldn't be here. The main thing that kept me from knocking was getting caught. It was slightly illegal but it was more about the fear of people finding out. What if my husband was the client? What if this was all a joke or a setup? What if the police answered the door? What if the person behind the door was someone I knew?

I knocked softly that way I could say I knocked but no one answered and I'd have my excuse to go home. I both wanted someone to answer and wanted no one to answer. I'm sure you've been there.

The door opened slowly but immediately. If Shades was a pimp, he didn't look the part. Not like in the movies. No trench coat, Fedora, and dark sunglasses. He was a little over five feet tall. in his early twenties, green eyes, bushy red hair. He was wearing faded blue jeans with a blue polo shirt. He took my right hand in his, bowed, and kissed it gently before looking me in the eyes and guiding me into the room, gently closing the door behind me. He wasn't even wearing sunglasses, so I had no idea where he got his nickname.

The room looked like it hadn't changed since it was condemned, which I think is part of the point of this. What I'm doing is seedy, so the setting is as well. The brown wallpaper was peeling, the matching carpet had been worn through and stained in spots, and the TV and phone looked like it was the 1960s. The bed was king-sized and the mattress was cratered and stained. I should have been disgusted but it was quite the opposite.

"Donna" would be running for the exits, but "Raven" was getting wet. I was a different person tonight. I sat on the bed with my legs crossed at the knees - I don't know why because I'd be opening them up soon enough. That too was the point. We went over the terms: Hidden cameras to record everything, my client would wear a mask so I wouldn't know who he was, but he could see my face. Security comes in if I say, "case orange". Words were not to be spoken, not by me or the men unless it was to call for help.

And then it happened, a moment Amy told - warned - me about. Words would jump out of my mouth without thought. My deepest desires expressed.

"Blackmail me," I blurted out while my hands were still in his.

I was more surprised than him.

He tilted his head and I found myself explaining. I slowly inhaled, then exhaled a deep breath.

"I want to go all the way down the 'well of desires' about which Amy spoke, but I need a nudge. Break rules. Shatter limits. Push me in every way you can. I'm sick of 'Donna'. If I'm being painfully honest, I never really liked her in the first place. I want to be 'Raven' because I love how all this feels."

He stood up, and paced around the room for a few minutes, looked back at me, and replied, "If we do this, you have to know the blackmail is real. If you miss a client, miss a deadline, fail to do what you're told - they will expose you. You also have to know that at some point, one of those things is going to happen - and when it does, they will expose you. All the video footage gets aired. Emails are sent. Phone calls are made. The end happens suddenly and without mercy. There's no stopping it. I won't be the one in control."

"Who are 'they'?" I asked out of curiosity.

He shook his head. "I don't know, honestly. You were given a code name, and so was I. We all are. It defines you. If someone uses that name, they're part of this life. You can't change your mind, Raven. The road from here to there will be a thrilling one with strange men, and barely met deadlines but at some point, you'll make an honest mistake and you'll be totally exposed. It will cost you the life you have now. Are you OK with that?"

I nodded. "Yes, I am. Are there a lot of women that want to be blackmailed?" I asked nervously.

"Yes. All of them are like you: early fifties, sexless marriage, career women. They never explored their darkest desires. They want the bottom of the well - want to live there - and they want bridges burned behind them so there's no way back up."

Silently, I listened. "It starts slowly with you having a client about once a week, deadlines are easy to meet, men easy to please. Gradually, as they gather material, they ramp it up until it's almost impossible to fulfill your end. It may take years or weeks."

"Where do they go? The ones that are exposed?" I asked already getting wet.

"Mexico, Russia, China, Thailand, Nigeria, Haiti, the middle east, India....they just vanish into the ether that is this life."

He raised my right hand to his lips and gently kissed it, then looked me back in the eyes. "Raven, are you 100% sure this is what you want? There is no way out after this. You've crossed the Rubicon."

I answered without hesitation. "Yes, I'm sure. I understand. I accept this life. Please blackmail me."

He gave me a single nod, and exited the room.

Without a word, a man came from behind me - I assume he'd been in the bathroom waiting - and stood in front of me. He was short, around 5'1", portly at 160 pounds, white skin, and wore a purple and white masquerade-type mask over his face. He was in blue slacks and a white, long-sleeved button-down shirt.

Saying not a word, he unzipped his fly and guided his cock to my lips.

I knew this moment would come and I thought I'd be shy or hesitant but I was the opposite. I opened my mouth and looked up at him. I put my hands on his hips slowly, gently dug in my nails, and guided him in a little at a time. I slowly slid him out to the head of his cock, keeping wet suction the whole time. I wanted him to know I wanted him. Needed him. Probably more than he needed me.

I wasn't just sucking his cock, I was savoring it. I cradled him on my tongue while wrapping my tongue around his girth. I took him as deep as I could and held him there. He was throbbing. He wasn't fully hard but getting there fast. He put his hands on the sides of my head and took control, slowly going in and out of my mouth and throat.

It had been so long since I had done this, not because of a lack of desire, but because my husband and I were just too busy for it. We were both successful in our careers and were always out of town. I truly missed this.

For the first time in over a decade, I felt like a woman again. I even closed my eyes for a few seconds to heighten my awareness of him in my mouth. I moaned slightly, pulled him out to his tip, then playfully licked him from base to head.

He was fully man and I was fully woman. No pretense. No strings. No condoms. No regrets.

Though I didn't hear a door close behind me, I felt a pair of strong hands on my shoulders from behind. Whomever he was, he was guiding me to get on my hands and knees on the bed. Far from resisting, I was eager to take his direction - as most women want a man to lead them. I kept the cock in my mouth as I assumed the doggy position on the bed, One of his hands left my shoulder, unzipped me, and slid the black teddy off my body. All I was wearing were my stockings and heels. He slapped my pussy lips with the head of his hard cock to tease me. I opened my mouth wider just to exhale a breath, then nodded in approval to the man behind me.

The man in front of me pushed just a few more times, kept his tip in my mouth, and came. I kept him at just the right depth so he wouldn't go down my throat. As I said, it had been years since I did this - and I missed the hell out of it! I loved the feel of a cock in my mouth. For those of you that aren't female, you're not just taking his flesh into you, you're taking his power. If fulfills our oral fixation. You can feel him twitching. Throbbing. You can feel his cock pulsate as he pumps cum into your mouth. Flexing and relaxing. One of those moments where you feel like a woman.

I'm not sure how to say it but I 'milked' him with my right hand slowly. I stroked him while I moaned for more. I wanted every drop, and you would too if you were me. After he pulled out, I closed my eyes and held his load in my mouth for a few more moments, allowing the flavor to burst as fully as he did. I'd forgotten the taste, the flavor of a man. For about half a minute I held his load where it was before I slowly - ever so slowly - swallowed him with a smile. Waves of pleasure washed over me from top to bottom. My nipples hardened, I got goosebumps, and my body gave me a warm shutter. I almost came. That experience alone made this night worth it.

The man behind me pushed me a little further up the bed and I got the hint to grab onto the headboard. I raised my ass in the air a little bit to give him a better angle. He responded by reaching under me and rubbing my clit. I moved back and forth along his shaft and moaned louder. I lowered my head between my shoulders and drove back against him. He had a good 'feel' to him. He was hard...very hard. Thick. He wasn't long but he had girth. He put his hands on my hips and gripped tightly. He picked up his pace, using long, full strokes. I went to move my right hand and he smacked me on the ass hard, so I got the hint to keep it on the headboard.

As he reached the top of his push and made contact with my ass, he grunted - I took the hint to start doing the same. Not being able to speak made it all that much more intense because I had to follow his lead. I couldn't tell him what I liked or what to do. I was here to be used, and nothing more. That's when I realized why Shades wanted me to stay silent...and yeah, it turned me on more than I already was.

He shoved deep inside of me and held it deep. I felt his cock twitching as his balls emptied. He was filling me up. I held my position and didn't move, I even held my breath. He held his cock inside of me until he started to go soft, only then did he pull out. I'm not sure how I knew, I just did - I didn't move from my position until after I heard him close the door on his way out.

I heard the voice of Shades from a speaker somewhere in the room.

"Raven, turn around and face the television with your legs open and show us his cum dripping out of your whore body."

My body was quaking, my legs were trembling. Nodding a single time, I obeyed. I spread my legs as widely as I could and held the lips open with my index and middle finger on my right hand.

"Did you like it?" he asked.

Shaking my head, I replied, "No, I fucking loved it! Can we do that again? That was fun!"

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Raven. Now, here's what you're going to do: there's a notepad in the desk drawer along with a pen. You will write down all of your social media sites, your bank account number, and all passwords to everything in your life. You'll spend hours writing down any and all such information, We own you now, Raven. Don't hide anything. Before you leave the parking lot you will place your cellphone and driver's license on the pavement along with your wedding ring, and workplace ID."

"How will I get into work, and what if I get pulled over?" I asked puzzled.

"We have that covered, Raven. We're far bigger and deeper than you can possibly know. At work in the near future, you will be receiving a smartphone from us. You are to carry it on you at all times. You will not give out the number to anyone and you will answer whenever we call. No excuses. From now on, there are no safe words. You are not to tell anyone your code name. We're also going to exploit your position in your law firm to swing cases our way. Some of it is going to be illegal. It's part of the blackmail. Do you understand?"

I nodded quickly. "Of course."

"Will Amy know my code name? I work with her. Does she have one?"

"No. Amy isn't important enough to have a code name. She's nothing to us but someone to pass along my name. As long as she remains chaste, she's worthless. We can't use her."

Nodding quickly I replied, "I understand."

"You are NOT - under any circumstances to have sex with anyone unless they know your code name, not even your husband. You only have sex with the clients we send. As you're moving into blackmail, I'm no longer your contact, someone else is taking over and I don't know who that is. Understood?"

I nodded a single time. "Yes."

"One last thing, before you leave stare into the TV, keep your whore legs open, and have an orgasm. Don't hold back on orgasms. Ever. You're going to fuck...a lot. Do not leave until you've completed all your assignments."

Nodding a single time, I spread my legs over the arms of the body fluid-stained chair and let my fingers do the walking per se. While I was fingering myself and rubbing my clit I stared into the camera and explained who I was and what I wanted. I admitted it turned me on. After I came on camera, the biggest one of my life I might add, I took a few minutes to catch my breath - keeping my legs open of course, then spent an hour writing down all banking/social media/workplace accounts and all my passwords. It took half the night to tell them everything. I left my driver's license, workplace ID, and wedding ring on the ground in the parking lot outside of the hotel room door and went home. I knew that the more I obeyed, the longer I did this, the more exposure material they would gather.

I smiled all the way home. It was the only thing I wore.