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From: Imagineer <imagin8r47@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Cruel Summer 09 {Imagineer} (Fsolo blackmail ScFi)
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Date: Sat, 10 Apr 2004 19:10:05 -0400
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Cruel Summer

copyright 2001-2004 by Imagineer.

comments to 
imagineer 47: yahoo green eggs com ham
but without the green eggs or ham

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Imagineer/www/


// 9: Extorted


  Angela woke up shivering. The water in the tub was cold. Her hands
were well pruned. She got out of the tub and wrapped a big towel around
her, then pulled the plug. Despite the shivering, she sat there at the
edge of the tub watching the water spiral down the drain. Like her
career as a crimefighter. Just a little over a month ago she'd been an
ordinary high school graduate who'd been given a fantastic gift. In
such a short time she'd mishandled it so badly there was almost nothing
left. She'd even lost the ability to contact her benefactor or whatever
Scott was supposed to be. And on top of that a new reputation as a slut
was practically guaranteed. Three big outings and after two of them she
wound up sleeping with someone. And the only reason she wasn't three
for three on that score was because Dirk "finished" too soon.

  But no, she couldn't just give up. No matter how bad things seemed,
she had to keep moving forward. That's what her mom had taught her.

  Angela wrapped the bath towel around her head and slipped on her
favorite pink terry cloth robe. She'd had it since she was ten. Back
then it had been loose and long on her child's body; now it barely
closed over her chest and barely covered her behind, and was worn thin
in many places. But putting it on was comforting, taking her back to a
simpler time when all she worried about was being late to school or
being cornered by icky boys. These days, well, she didn't have to worry
about being late to school. Icky boys, on the other hand...

  As if on cue, the phone rang. It was Josh. Good, she could arrange to
get the shoes back, maybe even go pick them up tonight if mom got home
with the car early enough. Angela cradled the phone in her neck as she
began rummaging for some underwear and something to keep her feet warm.

  "Hey. Angela."
  Awkward silence. Finally, "Hi, Josh." Her dread was audible.
  "Listen, I just wanted to tell you how great it was to, um, hang out
with you last night." Josh certainly wasn't interested in *dating*
again, but even he knew that chicks always expected a little
lovey-dovey the next day. And he was willing to play along a little,
especially since Angela seemed so easy now. "I was thinking maybe we
could hook up again, maybe talk and catch up. It's been a while."
  What the...? Did Josh think they were together again? "Um, Josh,
about last night..." Don't forget you need to get your shoes back --
don't slam the door too quickly. "I, uh, think I left my shoes at your
house." Pause. "A-And I need to return your sister's stuff," she added
quickly.
  "Ohright, yeah."
  "I was thinking I'd stop by tonight or tomorrow morning to pick them
up."

  As she worked things out in her mind, her hands continued their task
of finding something to put on under her robe, absently sorting and
resorting through her underwear drawer, examing and rejecting each
pair. Without thinking she moved to the next drawer.

  "Um, that's not a good time for me," Josh answered. While he wouldn't
mind a morning BJ and maybe even a full sex-buffet brunch, he had a
grander score in mind. "Actually, I'm pretty busy all week. I've got
college applications to fill out, and I have to study for my makeup SAT
next week." Josh had been in college prep courses all through high
school, but skated through his last year and blown his SATs. Twice, if
one counted his Junior year when he'd done so poorly he convinced his
parents that "everyone's Junior-year SAT is just practice. Colleges
want to see you take it in your Senior year." He'd done a better job
keeping information from his parents than he had preparing for college,
so they didn't yet know that the best he could do now was admission to
state college next spring. Not that he intended to do any studying
before next week, but Angela didn't need to know. Heck, she was
probably going to go to jaycee. "Why don't we hook up Friday night? We
can have dinner, watch a movie, talk and catch up on things, it'll be
like old times."

  Angela had been afraid of this. She just wanted her shoes back, and
Josh was trying to get back together with her. "It'll only take a
second for me to pick them up," she protested.
  "You don't understand, I won't be around the rest of the week. I'm
going to the library. They're rebuilding the back fence and I won't be
able to concentrate with all that hammering and stuff."
  Angela had forgotten how practiced Josh was at telling stories to get
out of things and get what he wanted. His parents were clueless. She'd
been fooled by him too.
  "Well, is your mom gonna be home?"
  "Yeah, but how am I going to explain how your shoes got here?
Especially like those. You know what she thinks of you, and while I
don't think that's right, now's not the time to try to set things
straight. Besides, what about my sister's stuff?" Neither one of them
realized what Josh's mom would do if she saw the fantasy skirt she'd
made for herself being returned by Angela, but they both knew that
Angela borrowing clothes from Josh's sister and retrieving her own sexy
high heels at the same time certainly didn't do anything to dispel his
parents' suspicions.

  "Well, can't you just leave the shoes on the porch-" Angela cut
herself off; that wasn't a good idea. "So when can I pick them up?"
  "Friday night, after our date. Don't you want to see me again? I
really want to see you..."
  Angela seethed. This wasn't going well. Usually boys weren't
interested in a girl once she'd slept with him; why'd he have to pick
now to be all sensitive? "Josh, I... I don't think going out Friday
night is a good idea right now. We can talk about going out another
time. Right now I just need to get my shoes back."

  Josh figured she might have some regrets. Even the biggest sluts
could have some morning-after guilt. Ordinarily he would let a girl off
the hook for now and spend the next couple of days charming her, but
with photo in hand he didn't even need to do that. If she would just
stop obsessing over a pair of shoes... Girls!  "You know, I don't even
know where they are right now. Things were kind of crazy, remember.
Kind of exciting, actually, but I wasn't too particular about where I
put stuff. I did find something interesting, though."

  Angela missed the last part, lost in thoughts on how she was going to
get those shoes, and the gems on them. Josh's story was so lame, and
they both knew it -- Josh's tone of voice practically flaunted it --
but what could she do? "Josh, I really, really need to get those shoes
back."

  Was Angela dense? "Did you hear what I said? I haven't found the
shoes yet, but I found something else. A picture. A polaroid."

  Was Josh dense? Being a dick about her shoes was no way to get her to
hook up with him again. Not that she ever would anyway, but still...
and all he wants to do is talk about some picture he found. "Are you
listening, Josh? I don't care about your picture, I just need to get my
shoes back. Then we can talk about going out. You're starting to make
me mad."

  Josh wasn't that dense. There was something more to these shoes.
Maybe he didn't need to use the polaroid. That'd be good, he could save
it for later. "What's so special about these shoes? If I can't find
them I'll buy you another pair."

  "Um, well they were my grandmother's."
  "Your grandmother wore five-inch heels?" Oops.
  "No, I mean the blue stones on them, they were my grandmother's.
They're part of a set. My... mom had them put on a pair of shoes when
she was younger, and now she passed them down to me because she can't
wear shoes like that anymore." I can tell a decent story when I need
to, Angela thought proudly.
  "Really," Josh said, stroking the scraggly hints of a goatee on his
chin. He wasn't buying it, but whatever. As long as she was desperate,
he didn't care why.
  "So you see, I can't wait until Friday."
  "No I don't get it, why not?"
  Damn. "Well... because... my mom's gonna wonder why they're not in my
closet."
  "You let your mom snoop around in your closet?"
  "Well, she might." She was getting lamer by the second.
  "It's just that I've got a lot of studying to do, and I don't know
when I'll have time to look for them, and then time to meet up with
you, and I'm sure you have to work so that makes it harder... I just
think Friday would be better. You think you can keep your mom out of
your closet a couple of days?"
  "I guess I'll have to," Angela said in a disapproving tone.
  "Great. So Friday I'm thinking you can come over, I'll get us some
Chinese take-out, we'll watch some videos on the couch, maybe pick up
where we left off... did I mention my parents are away again this
weekend?"

  Her hands stopped churning through her "special" lingerie drawer as
Josh's meaning registered with the innocent girl. Her cheeks flushed
red. Distracted, she settled on whatever was in her hands and slid them
them on, shaking her hips side to side as they wiggled into place. Pink
satin fluttered down between her legs, two slightly-overlapping halves
in front joining to one in back that softly caressed her smooth bottom,
all hung from a lace trimmed waistband rucked up high on her hips.

  So it wasn't about getting back together. It was about the sex. "Oh,"
she said finally.

  She thought about hanging up on him right then. What would happen?
She wouldn't get the shoes back. She wouldn't be Sapphire anymore. Josh
would tell all his friends about what a great fuck she was. Or maybe
what a lousy desperate fuck she was. She didn't know which was worse.
But he'd know, and that's the one he'd go with.

  And he'd tell everyone she called herself Sapphire.

  And Ricky and Jimmy would get the crap beat out of them. And the
football team would come looking for her. And probably those two
would-be Quick Mart robbers she'd thwarted. Even the punks would want
another crack at her. And she'd be powerless to stop any of it.

  No. From the first time she'd used the sapphires, she was committed.
She had to get them back now.

  The silence went on, Josh revelling in how Angela must be twisting,
looking for a way out, and finding none.
  He had her, and she knew it. All she could do was plead with him.
  "Look, Josh, last night was..." she gritted her teeth, "great..." Her
disgust was transparent to both of them. "...but I don't know if I can
stay out late on Friday..." It was bullshit and they both knew it.
Angela's mom trusted her completely, and she'd spent a whole weekend
out before. Not with boys, but not that her mom ever asked either.

  "That's too bad. You know, I sure hope I can find those shoes. I hope
my mom didn't take them to Goodwill this afternoon with that box of
stuff."

  Angela covered the mouthpiece. "Fuck!" she said aloud, her profanity
surprising her. He had her and he intended to take full advantage. It
was too late to pretend the shoes weren't important; who knew what he'd
do with them then, maybe give them to one of his other hussies. He had
no idea just how important they really were. She was screwed. And she'd
get screwed. She felt nauseous.

  Josh waited for her to speak.

  "Okay, Josh. You win. I'll come over Friday for a little while."
  "And?" He always did enjoy rubbing people's noses in it.
  "And we can... p-pick up where we left off."
  "Gee, you don't sound too enthusiastic; you better hope I put more
enthusiasm than that into finding your shoes."

  Shoes. Angela's feet were cold. Her automatic pilot kicked in again,
this time in search for a pair of socks or slippers under her bed.

  "I-I'm sorry Josh, I'm just under a lot of pressure lately." She
gathered her composure. He wasn't going to let up until she played
along, so she better turn on the charm. "I really do want to see you
Friday," she said in her cute voice. 
  "Yeah? Will you wear something cute?" This was getting worse by the
minute.
  "Sure, Josh, if that's what you want." Her hands discarded an odd
slipper without its mate. "Is there anything in particular you'd like
me to wear?" Angela regretted the words as soon as they left her lips.
  "You know, now that you mention it, there is." Josh was enjoying this
far too much. "I thought that outfit you borrowed from my sister looked
really good on you."
  Angela's heart skipped a beat. Not that. Oh, God. Memories of her
humiliating walk home flooded back. 
  "Josh, I can't wear that..." "Why not?" "Well, it's... it doesn't
really fit me very well," she lied unconvincingly. 
  "Nonsense, it looked great on you." 
  She felt a sinking feeling; she knew it was inevitable. But she
couldn't just give up, knowing the outcome was so awful. "Besides, one
of the clasps broke, and..." she tried lamely. 
  "I'm sure you can fix it. If not, you wouldn't mind trading it for
your shoes would you?" 

  Her hopes fell even lower. Josh was a right bastard. She had to think.

  Shoes. Her hands had found a pair of something, she didn't really
care what. She sat on the bed to slip them on, then walked into the
living room and crashed on the couch, knees on the armrest, feet
dangling over the side. The Frederick's of Hollywood pink
maribou-trimmed mules hung from her toes.

  "Are you there?" Josh prompted. He could barely contain the glee in
his voice.
  "All right Josh, I'll bring it over and put it on for you." 
  But with each surrender came another demand. "Why don't you just wear
it over? Then you don't have to worry about carrying it around on a
hanger or dropping it or anything on your way over."

  This was just evil cruelty. What did it matter? He didn't even know
the half of what Angela'd gone through on the way home. And the point
was he didn't care, so long as it was humiliating.

  "Please, Josh." Her voice was a desperate whisper. 
  "Oh come on, it'll be fun."

  Angela's imagination tortured her, replaying the morning's utterly
devastating humiliation and magnifying it with variations on what could
happen on the return trip. Anything but that. Anything.

  "It's just that... I-It's just that I had something else in mind to
wear for you," she purred. It was so degrading. 
  "Really? Because I think the private school look really works for
you." 
  "That may be, but what I have in mind looks better."
  "Better?"
  "Hotter." She choked back tears. 
  "Yeah? Describe it." Josh was a monster.
  "Then it wouldn't be a surprise." Angela had nothing in mind -- how
could she in the face of Josh's perverse torture? 
  Josh adopted a mock scolding tone. "You're not just trying to get out
of it, are you? Because I wouldn't want to be disappointed on Friday."
He emphasized 'disappointed.' "I mean I'm sure you look great in
whatever you wear, but last night was kind of special and I was hoping
Friday would be just as special." He changed his voice to a hurt little
boy. "You won't disappoint me will you?" The worm couldn't lay it on
any thicker. 

  "I'll try my best not to, joshy." Neither could she. 

  He had hated when she called him that, and she'd done it many times
when they were together just to annoy him, but today he ignored the
insult. "Well you should return my sister's stuff before my mom notices
it's missing anyway, so make sure to bring it. I'm sure the special
outfit you have in mind will look great, but on the off-chance it's not
we might be able to find something else in the closet you can change
into, or you can just wear the stuff you're returning one more time."
Josh was mean. "And then if I've found your shoes you can take them
home." Hurtful. "If we're really lucky, your grandmother's precious
stones will still be attached." Awful. "Hey, tell you what, I'll email
you some URLs of the kind of stuff I think looks best on you to help
you fine-tune your ensemble. Anyway, gotta run, see you Friday. [lick]"
Evil.

  Angela lay motionless on the couch. Her mind was at once frozen and
ablaze with thoughts -- trying to get over Josh's manipulation and the
nasty person he'd become, thinking up what she could wear to satisfy
his sick perversions as quickly as possible with the least damage to
her own self-worth, and wracking her brain for a way to beat him at his
own game, or at least come out even. She was breathing fast, her heart
was pounding, teeth clenched, every muscle in her body tight with
anger, fear, confusion, and stress. She was a confused barrage of
emotions; she couldn't think. She had to relax. 

  Angela closed her eyes and began slow, deep breathing, trying hard to
block out all thoughts. The simple relaxation technique she'd learned
in that junior-year semester drama class always worked. She focused on
relaxing one muscle at a time, from her head down her torso and arms
and fingers, from her hips down her thighs and calves and toes. She
could hear the drama teacher's voice in her head, coaching her through
the exercise. He sure had a great body for a forty year old... Sure
enough, in just a few minutes her body was pleasantly still and her
mind was clear. Well, almost clear.

  One knee slipped down off the armrest to the edge of the couch.

  Her fingers idly traced up and down the front edge of her robe,
gently brushing her stomach. The knot had come undone. The other side
of her robe slid off her smooth skin to puddle on the couch, halted
only by the seam hanging on her erect nipple. Her fingernails grazed
her bare tummy and further down, brushing the bottom of the robe aside
to caress the lacy edge and cool liquid satin of her panties. She
resolved to throw out the rest of her old cotton briefs and replace
them with more alluring underthings. Yes, she wanted all of her
underwear to feel as good as these. She could even make them herself.
How resourceful. 

  Her other hand smoothed up her bare thigh, crossing the lace-trimmed
waistband and continuing up the exposed half of her body, enjoying
the... relaxing... sensations her own gentle touch produced. Her robe
finally let go of her nipple and pooled next to her on the couch; her
hand slid up to replace it, tracing circles over and around her firm
breast. "Mmmmm," she sighed, the last of her tense muscles relaxing;
she vaguely heard one of her shoes land on the carpet.

  Her thoughts turned to Josh. He was a jerk, but he sure was cute! If
only could be nicer, if only he could think about her needs.
Fingernails delicately grazed her inner thighs, up the lace edge of her
panties to her hip, back down, sliding ever-so-lightly across her
crotch to repeat the gentle tease up and down the other side. Her
needs. Why couldn't he make her feel the way she felt now? The way...
her sapphires made her feel? She stroked back and forth, up one side
and down the other, brushing closer to the center with each pass. She
thought of the way her sapphire's energy licked like a lover's hot
sweet kisses all over her body, gradually focusing on her most
sensitive places. She imagined the touch of her sapphire energy
becoming Josh's touch, almost-tickling her soft skin, stroking along
her hips and inner thighs, fingers subtly stretching more with each
pass, whispering ever-closer to the center, to the source of her
sensual warmth. She felt the fingers sliding back and forth, a satin
touch through her thin panties. All the while, a firm-but-gentle hand
had ceased its wandering over her quivering flesh to focus on her
twins, massaging her breasts and toying with her nipples, one exposed
and one under cover of her soft robe worn thin to the point of
translucence.

  "Ohhh," she breathed as her own hands played the part of her fantasy
lover. She gasped as she pinched her nipple hard through her robe;
meanwhile the fingers of her other hand, impersonating and recalling
the gradually-insistent sensations of her overloading sapphires,
finally ceased teasing around the edges and stroked her wet labia
through her moist panties. "Mmmmm, yesss," she mouthed as her hips
shifted. Her breathing quickened with the more-direct stimulation. Her
middle finger stroked up and down, pressing soft satin against her
nether lips. A gentle circular motion at the top of her stroke sent a
pleasant shock through her clit while it worked apart the two halves of
gossamer material. Finally her middle finger slipped through the slit
crotch and inside her. Angela arched her back and gasped in response.
Her other hand gripped her breast hard.

  "Ngh... ngh..." the staccatto sighs left her lips in time with the
rhythmic manipulations, the physical sensations magnified by delicious
shifting fantasies. Her drama teacher seducing her. Josh smiling his
naughty smile as he playfully spanked her. Her clothes puddling around
her ankles in front of a virile stranger. Dirk holding her down as he
ground his manhood against her. Seducing Ricky in his own room with a
tight sweater and a come-hither look. Being suddenly powerless,
surrounded and groped by Raymond and Chad and Marcus. Flying over the
park and falling into a bed only to be pinned by a wiry young stud with
spiky green hair, the door behind him slamming shut as they orgasm in
unison...

  "My, don't we look sexy!"
  Her mom's voice, calm and unaccusatory and joking, nonetheless shot
through Angela as if she'd licked an electrical outlet. Her limbs
lurched about, her body trying to achieve a more conservative
presentation.
  "Mom!"
  "Don't be embarassed, sweetheart. It's good to dress pretty for
yourself."

  Angela leaped up off the couch, almost falling over with just one
heel on. She scrambled to slip into the other sexy slipper, her head
bowed down in shame, then tore off for her room with her arms wrapped
around her, walking past her mom without ever looking up. She slammed
her bedroom door, kicking off the bedroom mules and jumping under the
covers into bed, pulling them over her head as if to hide from her own
shame.

  How humiliating! Angela was certain her mom had seen more than just
what she was wearing. Why couldn't she control herself?

   


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