071

My car was in guest parking and I headed down to the lot. I got a text and wondered if Tanner was contacting me.

Get in the gray van three positions away from your own car. Climb in the back.

Fuck! He found me again. Did this mean one of the three women at Tiffany's was my betrayer? One of my three closest friends? This place was closer to the detective agency, and rush hour traffic wasn't as bad. Perhaps they could get here quickly. I sent a fast text with my address and a description of the vehicle I was getting in, then thought of the license plate on the back of the van and took a quick picture. Jolene sent a quick response saying she was on the way, but since it was Saturday, no one was working except those on specific cases, so she said it might be forty minutes before she got there.

I turned off my phone and climbed into the back of the van. My blackmailer was sitting there, that fucking smile on his face, the mask covering the top of his head.

"Close the door behind you unless you want the rest of the world watching you fuck and suck, slut."

I closed the door and he said, "Strip."

I tried to drag it out as long as I could to give Jolene a chance to get here, but he told me he'd rip the clothes off me and I could go home naked if I didn't hurry, so I sped up.

When I was naked and kneeling in the back of the van, he said, "Put this on." He tossed me a mask. "Put it over your head."

"Why?"

He slapped me, his hand whipping out, stinging, but not hard. "Because I said so."

"If you slap me again, my husband will wonder why I've hand marks on my face. Are you willing to give up my obedience so easily?"

"Right now, I don't see much obedience. I see a rebellious slut who won't do what she's told." He looked at me and I stared right back, daring him to hit me again. He smiled evilly. "I thought you wanted your identity hidden. You put on the mask, the person joining us won't know who you are. I guess if you don't care who knows you're a whore, leave the mask off."

I put on the mask. I found not only did it hide who I was, I couldn't see either. I wouldn't know who else would fuck me. Did I really want to know? I preferred it to be some faceless, anonymous cock, guy number three. Four, really. I never knew the name of the older black gentleman on the beach. Just one more anonymous prick for my pussy. Only my mouth was open and I had a good idea why it wasn't covered. He took my hand and held it to his crotch. His cock was already hard.

"You know what to do." Unfortunately, I did.

Fumbling for his zipper, I pulled it down and released his erection, putting my mouth over him, enveloping his cock. He grabbed my hair in both hands, controlling my head. I heard the van door open behind me and started to pull off, suddenly afraid. He wouldn't let go of my hair and pulled me back over his cock. The person behind me slapped my ass, startling me, and an electronic sounding voice said, "Hold still, slut." I heard another zipper and his cock centered itself on my cunt and tried to push in. He felt nearly as big as Tanner.

"You're dry," the one behind me said.

I couldn't reply with my blackmailer's cock in my mouth. I wanted to say, "I'm being raped without any preparation. What the fuck do you expect?" I merely grunted, drooling saliva around the cock in my mouth. I supposed I could try deep throating the bastard to get him to finish earlier, but I wanted Tanner to be the first one to own my throat, not my rapist. I felt some lube being spread on my sex, and his second attempt to penetrate me went much better than the first. I grunted again as he slammed into my cunt.

"I'm glad to see you're wearing a plug today," my blackmailer said. "I wasn't sure you'd do it on the weekend with your husband around. It will make it so much easier for you when I take your ass."

Sadly for me, the plug in my ass and the cock in my cunt made me very full. The asshole behind me wanted me to cum for him, so he started playing first with my plug, then with my clit. The one fucking my mouth used a hand to control my head by my hair while his other hand went to my dangling breasts and started caressing them, gently to start, but increasingly harshly. Despite the ill treatment, my nipples puckered and grew hard. The weight, the heaviness, which signaled an impending orgasm began to grow in my belly and sex. The guy fucking me was skilled, using long, hard strokes, running the full length of his cock up my pussy. I grew wet enough, lubricant would no longer have been necessary and despite myself, I began to moan around the cock in my mouth.

My moaning was the signal the guy behind me needed to fuck me harder and faster. My intention of saving my throat for Tanner was negated by the pounding behind me driving me deeper on his cock. I had to swallow to keep from gagging and as I did, my blackmailer slipped all the way down my throat.

"Didn't even take you three weeks to learn, whore. You're deep throating me already. What a fucking slut."

I tried to fight it; everything - the self-disgust and self-loathing, my impending orgasm, the way my throat opened up to my blackmailer, the way my cunt opened to the pounding cock. No matter how hard I fought, I could not impede the oncoming eruption and finally, I surrendered. I surrendered my mouth, and he drove repeatedly into my throat until he climaxed down my gullet. I barely tasted his seed, it shot so far past my taste buds. I surrendered my cunt and orgasmed over the thick cock, clutching it like a long lost love, as he grunted and released his own load, and I surrendered what dignity and self respect I had as I screamed my release.

"Fuck me," I cried. "Fuck me, you bastard. Fuck me hard."

My blackmailer laughed, his laugh as evil as his smile. "Well said, slut." Their balls drained and organs shrinking, I collapsed to the floor of the van. I heard a zipper and the door behind me opened and closed.

"Give me the mask and get out," he said.

I removed the mask and handed it to him and started to put on my clothes. "Sluts don't need clothes. Get out. Get out now!" He opened the side door of the van and started to push me out. I had to jump out to keep from falling out. He threw my clothes at me, most of them falling to the ground. He tossed my purse after me. Crouching between the cars to keep from being seen, I scrambled to gather my things. I didn't even try to put my underwear back on, going for the blouse and skirt to cover myself as quickly as possible. I tossed the underwear in my purse. As I walked to my car, I could feel cum running down my leg.

Getting into my car, I used some tissues to clean my cunt, but there wasn't anything I could do for my soul. It was black as hades.

I called Jolene. "They just left; are you following them?"

"I got close enough to spot the van, but they were too far away for me to stick with them. They got away."

"Would a picture of the license plate help track them down?"

"You got a picture?"

"Yes, just before I climbed in the back."

"Good girl. Way to use your head. How bad was it?"

"It was bad."

"Do you need to go home or can you come to the office?"

I glanced at my watch. I don't know what time Tanner would be expecting me, but it was still fairly early. He might be just sitting down to eat.

"I can come to the office."

"I'll meet you there in twenty minutes," Jolene said.

Driving back to their office, I found Jolene waiting at the building door to let me in. She locked the door and we took the elevator to their floor. On the elevator, I started crying and hanging on to Jolene for dear life. She patted me and soothed me and tried to ease the aching in my heart. It was pretty much a lost cause. I was still sobbing five minutes after I'd taken a seat in her office.

"What happened this time?" She asked as I started running out of tears.

I told her all the sordid details, including being pushed out of the van naked.

"That bastard! God, I'd love to have five minutes alone with that fuck," Jolene said. "You climaxed again, didn't you?"

"I did. I was begging to be fucked when I did."

"I thought so. I doubt you would have been as upset if you hadn't. It makes it worse, doesn't it?"

"A thousand times worse."

"I know. Believe me, I know. Why don't you show me that picture you took, let me run it?"

She took my phone and ran the license plate number in the photo. "Shit! This comes back to a 2015 Toyota Corolla. They must have stolen the plate."

"What?"

"Sometimes thieves will steal the license plates off cars at airports or parking garages. Sometimes they replace them with another plate so you don't notice, other times they leave it empty. The first time you notice unless you're really observant is you're getting pulled over for no license plate."

"So this license plate won't give us any information?"

"I'm afraid not. We can tell the owner of the Corolla to double check his car for the correct plate. This guy's a clever bastard, I'll give him that." She made a note.

"He was waiting for me outside Tiffany's place," I said. "Does this mean one of them is my Judas?"

"Not necessarily, although it makes a case for one of them being the one. We already mentioned he may have cameras at your friends waiting for you to show up. That reminds me. Give me your purse."