A searing sexual blackmail story! ‘Sexual Blackmail’ is the title of my new short story new short story. The story centres on a senior prison officer who uses his position to sexually exploit the female relatives of the prisoners he has in his care. Through a mixture of subtle and not-so-subtle threats and promises he uses them for his own gratification. because he has this position he is able to gain power over these women. The story is about how far a human being will go when he has absolute power over another. Joe Harrison, is not a nice man, he is not meant to be a nice man. Quite the opposite he is as corrupt as a person can me. Personally corrupt, professionally corrupt and proud of it. But in the end does he have it all his own way, perhaps there is a twist…and not the obvious one either…..
The story forms the second part of my series entitled ‘Twisted Tales of Compulsion & Desire’ – ten standalone stories sharing the common themes of obsession, compulsion, humiliation and sexual cruelty. The Landlady’s Humiliation’ started off the series in September and is still available on Amazon and Smashwords.
The extract below is the beginning of ‘Sexual Blackmail.’ A classic sexual blackmail story.
Joe Harrison forked another piece of the beef into his mouth. It was just as he liked it, pleasingly pink in the middle and mouth-wateringly tender. ‘Lovely piece of beef, Joy’, he said as he dug on into a crispy roast potato. In fact the whole thing was perfect. The garlic roasted potatoes, the mustard mash, the glazed carrots, minted petit pois, and of course the bloated Yorkshire pudding; and all slavered in thick rich brown gravy. It was Sunday lunch time and he was here for his weekly perk. And all the trimmings.
He looked at the woman sitting opposite him. She wasn’t eating, didn’t have anything on the table in front of her. She would eat later she had told him. She was just sitting there staring down at the table while he ate. He knew she wished him gone.
She was in her mid-forties, blond and slim. Her skin was tanned but looked like it had endured a few too many expensive beach holidays. But other than that she was attractive looking in that older woman sort some men liked. Well, in the way he liked. Especially on a Sunday.
Her clothes, like the room itself, were understated, reeked of class. Made a nice change he thought. He liked coming here. It was a big house and he liked to feel all of it around him. His for a day. Too big for a woman on her own, he thought. His eyes never left her as he ate. He liked to savour this part.
‘Take your top off Joy’, he said. Give me something to look at.’ The woman looked up at him, looked at him for what seemed like a long time but was in fact only a couple of seconds. She was wearing a mango-coloured top which she proceeded to lift up and over her head. Then she sat back, eyes cast down staring into her lap.
Jim leaned back in his chair. ‘Joy’, he said. ‘When I said “get your top off’ didn’t you think it’s because I want to see your tits? The bra as well…off.’ The woman looked down as if she hadn’t heard his words.
‘Please…??’ She looked up at him.
‘Off.’ She looked back into her lap and bent forward to unhook the white silk bra, and lowered it onto her knees.
‘Now that’s better’, Mr Harrison said, chewing. He looked from her face to her tits. In truth they weren’t that great, she was slim-bordering on scrawny and what she had was sagging anyway. But really, as he well knew, it wasn’t just about him having a look, it wasn’t about the actually quality of her tits; it was about him making her feel exposed, uncomfortable.
No point in being in control if you didn’t use it was there? And he, as they both knew, was in control here. ‘Don’t be rude Joy; look at me when I am talking to you. Look at me.’
He idly chased the last few peas around his plate, and made sure she saw his staring. His eyes flicked from her eyes down to her tits and back again. She was insecure about her breasts he could see that all over her body language. He knew which buttons to press.
He pushed his clean plate away, and sat back. ‘Lovely’, he said licking his lips. ‘Perfect. You know what time it is now don’t you Joy?’
She stared back with a blank expression. Yes she knew what time it was. Every Sunday was the same.
‘It’s time to get under the table Joy; time to show me your gratitude.’
Joy stood up very slowly, her face set in a resigned mask. She smoothed her hands on her skirt, and bent down and crawled under the table. He sat back and waited for her fingers to start fumbling around his zip. When it came he could tell she was tentative, it took her what seemed like an age to free his prick. He was already hard. Already he was needing her mouth around it. And when it came it felt good. She was a bit of a faded beauty to look at, but she had a practiced mouth and that was more important than looks.
‘God’, he thought as he sat back and gave himself to it. ‘I so fucking love my job.’
There was no doubt about It, Joe Harrison was corrupt. The thing was he didn’t mind being corrupt. He actually enjoyed it, loved it; it was part of the way he thought about himself. It was what he was. Knowing he was corrupt, and yet maintaining an unblemished professional persona for his superiors put a spring in his step. He always knew more than them. It didn’t just give him a sense of importance; it gave him a sense of supremacy.
He stared into the bathroom mirror. He was 50, but looked older. Too much smoking, too much drinking, and too little proper exercise had given him a blubbery haggard look. But he had got to the point of being past caring. His looks had never been an asset. He was resigned to his face and reconciled to his ballooning body. He enjoyed the effect it had on women…
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