The Price of Serenity

(This story is dedicated to Lady S, to whom I am enslaved. It is about extortion, blackmail, money slavery, with no real physical eroticism. It should be viewed as fantasy. I am flameproof, don't need foolish, anonymous public comments, but if you want to email me with comments, I will respond. Hope you enjoy.)

Arthur didn't know what he was going to do. His chest pounded as he looked at the figures in front of him and realized that the only blessing he could count on was that he had a wife who trusted him. A wife who did not ask questions about the inner workings of their finances. She never would have, or could have, understood this.

A blessing? He questioned that word. If his wife were more saavy and less trusting, ironically, he never would have been able to start down this ruinous path that he had. "Oh, honey: Why couldn't you have been more observant years ago? Then I wouldn't be in this incredible mess," he thought. But then he couldn't blame her at all. This was all his doing. All his own weakness.

Arthur sat at his computer and looked at his online pay statement.

His gross pay was $1923 a week. After taxes, various insurances and health care deductions, that came to $1302. That was supposed to be his paycheck total. Enough to pay mortgage, and all expenses including college tuitions for his two daughters, etc.

But then he looked down the column, and saw two things that made him take a deep breath and sigh. Following the $1302 figure were three deductions from his weekly paycheck:

Loan 1: - $ 52.00
Loan 2 - $ 79.00
Loan 3 - $ 105.00
---------
$ 236.00

That brought his check down from $1302 to $ 1066.

He thought about these "loans" that he had made against his 401K and paying off. At first it seemed simple. He had about $300,000 in 401K savings. A nice figure, but not as much as many of his peers because for the last three years he has not been able to put a penny into that account.

Instead, he had borrowed from it. Three times. The first time $10,000. The second $ 15,000. The third, $20,000. This was over the last three years. Now, he had to pay $236 per week for five years to repay loans he took out to give to Lady S. These loans would keep him safe. Keep his life from turning upside down, and being ruined. They were the price of "safety."

And now, as it approached 2:00, he was awaiting a telephone call from her. She had emailed him that she would be calling.

Arthur was transported back to how it started. As an erotic game that excited them both. A game. A "game" was all it was meant to be.

****

Arthur and S had been "together" at one time. Well, together in a "fashion." He was a married, kinky mentor who reveled in introducing very smart women to the dark pleasures of financial domination. S was married at the time as well, but in the death throes of her relationship. They were drawn to each other immediately.

As Arthur talked about the joys of financial sadism and money masochism, she began to get excited at the prospects of it all. It wasn't physical sex. It was emotional and psychological sex.

This was new to her, and over the next months, they both marveled that they could come to the most passionate, hot, volcanic eruptions simply talking about S's enslavement of Arthur through blackmail, extortion and exposure.

He oriented her in the dark art of financial sadism, and as such, had "tagged" himself as a fetishist in this. That he had a weakness for it. Explained that once a man identified himself in this fashion, it was almost that he was "begging" to be taken. Exploited. Used. Enslaved. That he would be willing and eager to go further with this with the right partner who felt the same excitement about it as he did. This was key to him: That the woman with whom he was involved understood and connected with the eroticism of this. In this regard, S was rare. Many women just saw this as "simply" a meal ticket. S understood the financial advantages of exploiting Arthur's weakness and "financial rapeability," but the appeal of S was that she also got hot from the process as much as he did.

And it DID get her hot. The concept of Arthur voluntarily cooperating with this process made them both even hotter. The idea that he would simply hand over all the tools she needed to enslave him forever -- if that was her choice -- was breathtaking to them both. It was all a very hot game. Still only a game.

And so the process began. The first steps were simple and almost casual. Over the first few months, she learned his real name; the real place he worked; his real phone number there; the real names of his wife and son; his real home address. Simple things. Things that dozens -- hundreds -- of other people easily know about someone. Harmless.

Once these were in her hands, they began the money payments. Almost "symbolic" as he looked at things now. Fun. Every week, he would send her an envelope with note, and fifty dollars. This progressed to a $50 bill, then a crisp $50 bill. After a while, there were certain "penalties," and "taxes," and "surcharges." These extra little greedy moments made them both hot.

Then, she began to gather extra "ammunition" as well. She had all the handwritten notes, of course, but then she began to "request" photos. First of his cock. Then of him nude. Then, a full-face series of him deep-throating a dildo. These photos would have probably been enough to keep him from resisting her, but she wanted more. She wanted to have something that would make absolutely sure that he would never hesitate or resist anything she demanded. Ever.

That was when she set up a motel-room videotaping of Arthur first begging to suck, then pleading to get sodomized by a well-built black man. S of course arranged it all, and held that tape as one of her prized possessions. She didn't have to explain to Arthur the devastation that would result to his life if she ever were to disseminate stills or video files from his movie debut to those in his Inner World. He understood. Mostly, it was just used as an erotic tool for them both to get off on.

During the next year, however, they burned themselves out, and life's pressures lead them to stop their "game," as both of them had issues they needed to deal with, and step away from this fantasy.

All was well until Lady S's divorce came through. Financial realities began to hit her that living alone was much more expensive than she thought. On top of that, she began dating, and found a wonderful lover, Pete, but that they couldn't really afford to move in together and have the kind of life that they wanted.

But the idea only slowly hit her. What had been a financial luxury before -- Arthur's "donations" -- were now a financial need. But in reality, she would need even more of his "cooperation." Could it be done?

There were two issues, as she saw it: First, did Arthur have access to enough REAL money for her needs. Was there enough there for the taking to make a real difference in her life with Pete?

And second was her "conscience." Could she actually do this to Arthur? Actually put him into such a life-changing financial nutcracker? Could she do it, and not weaken? Actually follow through in ways that would make him understand how deadly serious she was, and that she WOULD follow through on ALL her threats if he didn't submit to her demands?

This was when she slowly broached the idea to Pete. He was erotically adventurous, and they found that he would get excited when S would detail to him just how she had exploited Arthur. Together, Pete and S would get hot at the idea of them having greater luxuries because of her ability -- and willingness -- to blackmail someone who had access to enough money to make their lives easier.

The first time Pete and S actually used this as erotic foreplay, S knew that she was going to go through with it. Looking back on who Arthur was, and what he helped bring out in S, it was inevitable for it to happen.

***

The phone rang. Arthur picked it up. It was Her.

Small talk for a few moments, then:

"So, you must have had your salary review by now, for the year." She asked.

They had not spoken since before Xmas, and it was February now. They used to talk or chat multiple times a day when we met four years ago. At that time, she was captivated by him. But that was over. He was now a money source who needed to be managed and handled like any investment. For the last two years, it has only been to discuss the "financial realities," of their "partnership." This was just such a call, and one that he had been dreading.

"Let's hear the news," she said.

So, I inhaled. "Well, I got a 5% raise."

He heard her hitting keys on a calculator. "Ok. Tell me about your bonus."

He paused a minute.

She jumped right in. "You know that I'm going to ask for that notice you get verifying it, so you wouldn't think for a moment of not telling me the truth, would you?"

"No. I will tell you," he replied.

"I know you will." She said.

"I got a $10K bonus."

"VERY nice bonus. More than last year."

Last year, he had gotten a $5,000 bonus. She was pleased that he did. And just like last year, he knew that she expected him to send this payment to her immediately. Again, he would not be able to bring it home, or roll it into his bank account.

"You're going to transfer that 10K into my online account by the end of the day," she said.

"Couldn't I just leave a grand or two in the account, so that my wife thinks that I got some bonus, or something?"

"All of it." S said. "Just do it."

"Yes, I will."

"Now, your salary is going to be a $100 a week higher. A little less than last year," she commented.

"Yes. A bit."

"Well, that is only $5000 annually." she said. Then just paused.

"I can't go yet another year without a raise in my salary. If I take out a loan for the $5000 and give you that amount, then my salary will be exactly the same as last year again. My wife would know that something is up." I implored Lady S to understand.

"You know $5000 is not going to do it, hon."

His head throbbed now. "Please. I'm already paying off those three loans I took to pay you. It's almost 45K."

"That's not my concern, is it?" She said, coldly.

"No. I know it isn't. But . . "

"I want $30,000 this time."

He felt faint. He hit the calculator to calculate what his loan repayment would be."Another $158 a week over the next 5 years."

"Well, that is what you're going to give me this time. I am moving. Pete and I got estimates on the kitchen and new windows."

"Please, I can't! The total would be $394 a week."

"That's right, Arthur. You'd be paying me $1700 a month. $ 20,000 a year. I can multiply too."

"I'd only be bringing home $908. I can't. . ." Arthur was quivering.

"Do you really have a choice, hon?"

His heart started pounding. This was never easy. She never made it easy.

"Please don't," he begged.

"Do you WANT me to make things harder?"

"No! Please. It's just that I can't take out another large loan! Please. I can't repay it . . ."

She was silent. Then she said, "Look, one of two things are GOING to happen. You're either going to apply for that $30,000 loan from your 401K and do whatEVER you need to do to get by. It's not my concern or interest. That is one option. The other option is that you can resist, in which case I will send a "starter" envelope to someone either on your family list, your neighbor list, or your job list."

"Please don't." He was close to tears.

"I would simply get the ball rolling. Get people asking questions about you. Not giving them specifics. Just get their suspicions going, so they would be watching you more closely."

He was breathing heavily now.

"It's GOING to happen if you don't fucking do this. I promise you. And if it comes to my involving your boss in this, you will probably lose your job. And what happens if you lose your job?"

He was silent.

"If you lose your job, you will have to repay that $45,000 in loans you made in three months."

He was stuck again. The outstanding loan amount now would be $75,000 for the next 5 years.

S. then broke the silence. "If I were you, I would concentrate on finding other money sources you can draw from -- legal, illegal, ,whatever --, because this is NOT going to stop. There IS going to be a "next time." I'm not going away. Ever."