“Stocking Tales”: Blackmailed Wife

Hi, this is me.

This is the ‘me’ that my friends and family see.

On the other hand, this is what I wore to school yesterday, although my hair was in one ponytail at school instead of the two I changed in to once I got home.

Now you may wonder why I was at school yesterday.

I have been mistaken on occasion, although it’s getting rarer, as a high school student.

I have been mistaken constantly as a college student.

The reality is that I am actually a grade twelve teacher.

This picture was taken during one of my many role play adventures with my husband.

I am a teacher and look as sweet and innocent as a teacher should look.

That said, I love to be an enigma. I often go without panties at school, I often wear thigh highs underneath my conservative attire and on occasion when my hubby shoots a morning load on my tits’, I go to school with dried cum on me.

These secret sins of sexuality are my own way of keeping my days from the mundanity of everyday life.

And I am definitely not the prude that some students or parents may think.

At school I am firm and no nonsense.

At home I am submissive and an eager slut.

I love sucking cock. I mean I really love it.

I also love cum. I love swallowing it. I love rubbing it on my body. I even love facials… it feels so slutty, so completely different than my usual day to day life.

When my husband Tyler isn’t home for a few days, I go through withdrawal.

I also love long hard fuck sessions and will sometimes on special occasions or when I’ve had one too many glasses of wine, take it in the ass.

We have filmed a few sex videos for our own enjoyment. I somehow get even hornier when a camcorder is filming me… My inner porn star is allowed to come out to play, which is exhilarating (such a role reversal from the hours of seriousness of teaching).

Tyler had also taken lots of photos of me in many a naughty position over the past year and a half… and it really seemed to spark our already pretty damn hot sex life.

That said, the photos and the videos all started rather innocently. I was bored one day and missing Tyler, so I sent him a sexy, slightly teasing photo as I hammed it up for the camera. Sexy smiles, puckered lips, my nerdy high school glasses, plaid skirt and sexy panties.

This led to me posing for him when he was home one night after a few drinks.

This became a regular activity for us (whether he was home or away).

The photos were for teasing and were considered early foreplay for us.

Over time, the photos got sexier… and I started to get more risqué.

I posed sexily in only a bra and panties.

I posed bent over to showcase my fine ass.

I posed cupping my breasts without a bra, but still not really showing anything.

Then, of course, I allowed my breasts to be photographed. Tyler kept nagging me, promising he would delete them later.

And always wanting to please him, I reluctantly agreed.

The first one was more of a tease.

Of course… Tyler wanted more. Especially when he was stuck in a hotel.

And truthfully, once I posed showcasing my tits, I wanted to do more.

I felt like a Playboy bunny as I posed in so many different positions.

Feeling liberated getting my tits photographed, I even began walking around the house topless sometimes, even when Tyler wasn’t home.

It was liberating.

I vacuumed the house topless; I watched television with Tyler topless; I made breakfast topless.

Then, feeling wild and adventurous one lonely day when rather horny, I took a selfie at home after work which was just slightly more provocative and texted it to him with a naughty message:

Three holes waiting for attention!

Knowing he was flying home at the moment, he would get a great surprise once he got off the plane and checked his messages.

As expected, it worked. He texted back profoundly:

Holy shit!

I texted back naughtily, playing on his two word reply:

I hope you plan to fuck the shit out of my holes, baby.

Not surprisingly, the photo worked and Jeremy indeed fucked all three of my holes that night, depositing his load in my ass after the marathon session.

Of course, it was only a matter of time before Tyler wanted to go further and take shots of my ass.

Somehow this seemed more risky and more vulnerable and at first I protested.

As he pounded me from behind one night he said, “Come on, Daisy. I need a shot of that perfect ass of yours when I’m alone at the hotel.”

My eyes went wide. “You’re not deleting them?”

“Most of them,” he said, which I would later learn was a lie, “but I do have a couple of favourites to drool over while I stroke myself at night.”

“Really?” I asked, somehow feeling flattered that when he was alone in a hotel, he was jerking off to me and not to online porn.

“Oh yeah, baby,” he moaned, as he kept fucking me.

He wouldn’t let me come until I promised to pose for him. Being flattered and being a submissive, I eventually gave in like I always did, unable to ever say no to him.

That said, I bargained and in the end I agreed to pose wearing panties… skimpy panties, nervous to have my pussy or rosebud uncovered.

That was followed by a shot of me in a thong.

Al first, I hid my face, feeling this was a bit too provocative.

Then, of course, I showed my face.

That said, I need to clarify, I’m not a slut.

Besides Tyler, I have only been with two other guys: losing my virginity at prom (I know, how stereotypical can I get?) and my college boyfriend of just over two years.

That also said, I love being a slut for him.

Although I often protested many of his extreme sexual suggestions, I always eventually gave in.

As mentioned, many of these nasty adventures were filmed or photographed.

Ironically, no one who knows me would possibly fathom I was anything but a typical young sweet wife and teacher… which only enhanced the thrill of being such a nasty slut for my husband.

Anyway, my husband was out of town like he often is, and at a hotel when I decided to dress up in my newest costume for him, a very sexy good girl Belle, for some Skype playtime.

I asked once we were face to face. “Horny, baby?”

He laughed, “I likely can be.”

I moved the computer back and leaned back for a pose that let him see what I was dressed as. “How about now?”

He smiled, “Lift off has been achieved.”

“Let me see,” I purred. I can’t explain it but I love the look of a nice hard cock… Although I have only been with three men, I often spent my lonely nights when my hubby was gone googling cocks. I love the different lengths, different girths, the variety of colours by race, and the plethora of shapes (curved, straight, etc). Like snowflakes, no two are alike.

He pulled out his semi-erect six inch cock and asked, “Is my bride hungry?”

I loved that he still called me his bride, even though we had been married for over four years.

I answered, “I’m completely famished.”

He nodded, “I could use a nice long blow job.”

“Too bad you’re not here to fuck my face with that big dick of yours,” I teased, loving talking dirty and really enjoying the slutty exhilaration of getting face fucked, especially after a full day of teaching teenagers. Although I love my job, I always have to be on at school, so sometimes I just want to be told what to do.

“Where would I shoot my cum?” He asked.

He shot buckets. More than almost any porn star I had ever witnessed and he loved to spray his seed as if marking his territory.

Over the years he had come on almost every part of my body: I’ve had a plethora of facials where I literally felt I may drown in cum; I’ve had my tits splattered, my ass sprayed and my nylon feet coated. He has even shot his entire load on my forehead and filmed as his cum slowly meandered and dripped down my face like the slowest waterfall ever.

Strangely, I loved it. I loved the slutty act of being covered in cum. I also loved spreading cum all over my body as if it was soap.

I flashed back to one of the first times he treated me not as his girlfriend, this was before we were married, but some cheap cum slut. Shockingly, the rough treatment was what began my revelation as a submissive with a desire to please at all costs.

He roughly fucked my face for an eternity, before shooting his load in my mouth so roughly, I gagged and had to spit it out, even as he kept spewing like a firehose trying to put out a fire with cum.

I looked down and saw that my work blouse had big gobs of cum on it, even as he shot more cum on me.

“Never spit out my cum,” he scolded.

“Pull out then,” I quipped, annoyed at having my favourite blouse coated with cum, even as another rope hit me on the chin.

He said, “No, you get used to taking it all down your throat.”

“Really?” I said, half pissed at his presumptuous attitude, and yet also surprisingly turned on at being treated like a slut.

“Yes, he nodded, “Plus, you look fucking hot as hell coated in cum.”

“I feel like I got hit with a water balloon of cum,” I quipped, having just taken a six day load of his seed.

“Now retrieve my cum you wasted, my sexy slut,” he ordered, “I would hate for any of my almost week long build up to be wasted.”

“That would be a shame,” I agreed, as I scooped some cum of my chin.

“No, no, no,” he said, shaking his head. “Get the cum that is on the floor.”

“You’re serous?” I asked.

“You should have swallowed it all,” he said firmly.

Although again I was partly pissed at his treatment of me, my pussy was on fire and I, even though I knew I shouldn’t have, lowered myself to the floor and licked up the puddle of cum that was there.

I felt so dirty and cheap.

Yet, I also felt oddly liberated.

It felt unexplainably good to just let go and obey. My day to day college life (I was in my last year of college at the time) was so structured that I didn’t allow myself to really have fun.

I also felt a strong desire to obey… to turn him on.

“So fucking hot,” he repeated, before adding, “and slutty.”

“So hot and slutty,” I quipped sarcastically.

“Brat,” he said.

I kept licking up the cum from the floor as he purred, “Good girl. Lick that floor completely clean. I don’t want a single drop of my cum wasted.”

“I would never waste such a precious commodity,” I replied, as I sucked up the rest of the cum, lapping the floor like a dog licking his food bowl.

When I sat back up, still on my knees, her asked, “Fuck, I think you are worthy of marrying.”

I laughed, thinking he was kidding, “Is that an offer?”

He shrugged, “Well, since you’re on your knees and asking… sure.”

“Are you serious?” I asked, suddenly unsure if he was joking.

He dropped to his knees and pulling something out of his pocket said, “I actually planned to ask you tonight at dinner, but this moment, with you coated in cum, is too hard to resist. Will you marry me?”

I couldn’t believe it. Yet, I didn’t hesitate, “Yes, yes, yes.”

Returning to reality, I responded, in submissive mode, a mode I had been in ever since the unorthodox marriage proposal, “You’re the boss. The better question is where would you shoot that cannon of cum?”

I could see him stroking faster and knew he was likely going to come soon.

“Well, you came all over my face before you left,” I pointed out.

“That’s true,” he nodded.

“And the time before that you shot your load up my shit hole,” I said, being as nasty as I could, knowing that always accelerated his orgasm.

“Oh God, yes,” he groaned.

I then repositioned myself, and pulled my tits out and posed, “Or how about my titties? Do you want to create a river of cum down the valley of tits?”

“Damn baby,” he moaned, “you’re driving me crazy.”

Going further, I leaned close, my eager cocksucking lips now the focus as I purred, my tone as slutty sexy as I could make it, “Or do you want to give my face a new coat of cum paint?”

“Fuck,” he grunted, his legs stiffening, his load seconds away from eruption.

“Or would you rather just shove that cock in my mouth and face fuck me, your balls bouncing off my chin, until you deposit your protein down my throat?”

“Fuck,” he grunted as his cum rocketed straight up in the air.

Briefly forgetting we were hundreds of miles apart, I opened my mouth to catch his cum, banging my head on the laptop.

Damn, I sighed, I want that cock. I want that cum.

I began rubbing myself, wanting to get off too.

“Come for me, my slut,” he ordered, always knowing exactly when to switch from sweet to dominant.

“Yes, baby,” I moaned. “I sure wish you were here to fuck all three of my holes tonight. Your slut is craving a three hole pounding.

“Maybe a deep fisting?” He questioned.

“Right up to the elbow,” I replied, frantically frigging myself.

“What would your father say if he knew his only daughter was a fist taking, ass begging, cum craving, slut?”

“Oh, God,” I groaned, a naughty play on words as my father was a catholic minister. My orgasm was imminent and I begged, “Wash away my sin, baby, with a baptism by cum.”

“Now worship The Lord by releasing the devil’s sin,” he ordered, our most common role play with religious undertones.

“Yes,” I screamed, as my orgasm hit me.

Once I recovered, we chatted briefly about our days before he insisted on going to bed… it was two hours later where he was.

I got into pajamas and went and watched Netflix, like I usually did when home alone.

…..

I was at school, just after lunch, when I got a text. I didn’t check it, as I never check my phone when I am teaching.

Yet, it kept buzzing.

I told my teacher assistant I had to quickly deal with something and headed to the teacher washroom.

Once alone, I clicked the five messages:

Is this Daisy?

Daisy the high school teacher.

The sweet innocent teacher that has a naughty secret?

The third message sent a chill down my spine.

The fourth text was a picture of me. A playful sweet picture that I had taken for Tyler last Christmas.

The last text:

Cute picture. You look so wholesome and sweet, except for the dildo behind you!!!

I looked at the picture again. I then looked at the phone number (which was blocked).

I texted back:

Who is this?

After a minute, the stranger responded back with another picture (one I took a few months ago to tease my hubby), followed by a message.

Nice tits. I bet your high school students have fantasized about those perky tits.

Can you take that whole sucker in your mouth, slut?

Two feelings coursed through me:

-Anger

-Anxiety

I was furious at this person’s name calling and smugness; yet, I also saw my career coming to a crashing end if these photos got out.

I questioned again:

Who is this?

No response.

I texted again:

Please leave me alone.

I returned to class stressed. Who was this? What did he want (assuming it was a he)? How did he get those pictures?

When the bell rang for break. I called Tyler. But he didn’t answer.

I sighed and left a message:

Please call me as soon as you get this. It is urgent.

I was completely stressed and with only an hour left in the school day, I went to my principal and asked if he could get someone to cover my last class as I wasn’t feeling well… which was definitely true.

Thankfully, she found someone to cover me, and I quickly headed home. As soon as I was in my car, I received another blackmail text from the person.

Another picture. This one from a while ago, after Tyler had suggested that he would love to watch me with another woman (something I have done a few times since this picture was taken).

Another message.

So is this for Principal Wilson or that cute first year Chemistry teacher Ms. Hamilton?

“Oh, God,” I said to myself, Ms. Hamilton (Carrie), indeed one of the three women I had been with. It was also our first threesome (Tyler and I actually double penetrated her, which was fucking cool).

Another text:

I can leave you alone. But that will mean I am putting these pictures on the internet. Maybe creating a website.God, I wish I could get a hold of Tyler. I quickly called him again as my stomach turned. Again, no answer, which only added to my frustration.

I had no idea what to say. So I didn’t respond, hoping to get some time to talk to Tyler and somehow figure out who had these compromising pictures of me.

Another picture (from the same timeframe of the strap-on picture when I had dyed my hair pink to feel younger), another text:

Is this what you wore to work today?

I again ignored the texts as I drove home.

I almost got into an accident when I received another text.

I ignored it.

Another text.

I turned the radio up and focused on the road.

Once I got home, I went in the house and called Tyler once again.

When he didn’t answer, I left another message:

Please, please, please call me!!!

Although I didn’t want to, I clicked on the missed messages.

Another picture and a couple messages. This photo much more recent, having been taken just last month when I did a naughty Skype video for Tyler. That said, there were no pictures taken of this.

‘Oh, fuck!’ This is a capture from a video.

The messages:

Good news, slut! My dick is bigger than your dildo and your husband. I’m sure you will love it in that cock sucking mouth of yours, that sweet inviting cunt, and that apparently willing ass.

And the more you ignore me, the more likely it is I may put some of these online for the world to see.

I was completely rattled.

My life was potentially over. Tears streamed down my face as reality set in.

Again, I wondered how this person, now clearly a male, could have these private photos. How careless had Tyler been? Or was it my fault somehow? Was my computer compromised? I grabbed a bottle of wine, poured myself a glass and downed half of it as if it was water.

I was about to respond, when another text and message came.

This may be the kinkiest picture I have ever seen. Is there anything you won’t do?

“Shit,” I cursed to myself.

This was a one-time thing (well two, actually) when I was completely drunk just a couple of months ago. Tyler, after a lengthy fucking and coming all over my tits, needed to piss and I offered him to piss in my mouth, wanting to try something new. The nasty task was exhilarating and humiliating, yet something I enjoyed… the taste even surprisingly pleasant. That said, I would never do that sober… I don’t think.

Yet, looking at the picture for the first time… I did indeed look like a dirty slut.

Fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck!

Another picture; another text. This one also quite recent as I tried to go back to the 1950s vintage pin-up look that Tyler loved.

Why not more photos like this… in nylons. The first ones you send me better be in stockings.

My eyes went wide.

He was expecting me to send him pictures!