Path of the Raven

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Amateur

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 Erzincan Escort 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 Erzincan Escort Bayan 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 Escort Erzincan 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.

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