A Thousand Words 1

Author's Note: So this is a little experiment with style and also a new fetish, I may return to this one at a later date.

****

"You burning the midnight oil again, boss?"

I looked up from the computer screen, taking a few seconds for my eyes to refocus on the bright pink face of Jessie. She smiled at me as I sighed and leant back in the office chair. "Looks like it, Jess." I said as I stared at the document open on my screen, a speech for my Husbands event tomorrow. "I just need to nail this speech."

Jessy, in the green and black uniform of our staffers, came around my cubicle and looked over my shoulder. Her lips moving silently as she read the changes I had made that stood out a bright red on the screen.

"Seems great to me, boss." She said loyally, "but I'm not half the writer you are. That's why I just book the venues."

"You do far more than that!" I replied, which was true. Jessie had gone from being a bright eyed journalism student who was volunteering to help out a candidate she truly believed in, and had become my right hand woman. Pulling my ass out of the fire so many times I had lost count. I already knew I was going to offer her a job when the campaign was over, win or lose.

Pulling on her coat she shrugged, looking embarrassed at my praise. "Well just don't stay up too late boss." She said as she headed for the elevator. "Don't want to wear yourself out."

Waving to her as the lift doors closed I rubbed my eyes. All around me was green and black stickers, flags, posters and even a stuffed dog. We had gone all out for this campaign. My husband, Marcus Mckellar, was running for Senator for the state. It seemed like decades ago that he told me he was going to run and asked me to come on and run the whole show.

At the time I had thought it would be a easy little deal, spend a month or two standing around at events and looking every bit the perfect housewife the voters of the state wanted. Then they would vote and it would be done. Instead it had turned into what like an endless slog of town halls, dinners, meet & greets and Q&A after Q&A.

Yet we had got through it and now we were on the cusp of actually winning this thing. We had the old fuck on the other side on the run and the exit polls all seemed to state that the writing was on the wall. Soon it would be Senator Mckellar fighting for this state. All I needed to do was get this fucking speech right!

A email notification popped up in the corner of my screen. Coming not from my work email but my personal email that I had open in the background. I frowned as I leant forward and pulled up the email. I hadn't expected any emails and certainly not from my personal account right now.

The email loaded up, an automatic slide show of image loading with it. As soon as the first image appeared my heart turned to ice.

The picture was of my husband, his broad shoulders and strong facial features unmistakable. No sane human could say it was anyone other than him and I was looking at a picture of him with his lips wrapped around another man's cock.

I quickly shut down my pc, making sure to wipe the cookies and every other trace of info I could think off from it before I did. Standing up on shaky legs I pulled on my jacket. I was the only one left in the Campaign office at this time of night. Green and black "Vote Mckellar!" banners and stickers covered the place as I bolted for the elevator.

Driving home I had to struggle to stay under the speed limit. My heart pounding in my chest the whole way, drowning out my rushing thoughts. By the time I pulled up into the driveway and climbed out of the car I was shaking like a leaf. The world seemed to be spinning, making it hard to walk.

Yet when I pushed open the front door and saw my family. My pretty little daughter Anna and perfect son Matt, sitting on the bottom step of the stairs. Both in their pyjamas and both fast asleep, their small bodies slumped against each other on the steps. For one tiny moment I managed to regain some control.

I looked up as Marcus came out of the living room, "They wanted to stay up." He said quietly, gesturing to our children as he hugged me. "We best get them to bed then."

So we each picked one of our children and tucked them into their beds. All the while my mind racing as the blurry image from the email floated large in my mind. By the time we found ourselves in the kitchen, my cold dinner placed in the microwave whilst my husband talked about the day's event, I was already starting to feel the panic come back.

We sat down across from each other at the dinner table, Marcus had obviously figured out that something was wrong. His inane chatter having dropped off to silence as he watched me from across the table.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, the picture of innocent concern.

Putting down my fork I pulled my tablet from my bag. Pulling up the email and the pictures I set them to loop as a slideshow. I nearly threw it across the table, watching as he picked it up and looked at the pictures. His eyes going wide as he suddenly understood what they were. He flicked back and forth through the pictures his eyes going wide and his mouth silently forming a variety of swears.

Eventually he put it down and looked at me. "So they want to blackmail me?"

It's at this point that I should stop and take a step back because this isn't the story you are most likely thinking it is. You are thinking this is the tale of a good little christian girl who finds out her husband is one of those deviant homosexuals and has to decided if she should protect him or not, right?

Well sadly it isn't that straightforward. You see I have known about Marcus's orientation pretty much from the day we met. When we met at university it was because his then boyfriend introduced us. We became fast friends and it wasn't until we were about to graduate that he revealed to me that he had been telling his family back home that he was dating me. We came from the same town, a place that might as well have been on another planet when it comes to its views on homosexuality.

So we made a deal, I would be his beard, I would cover for him and marry him and keep the charade up until his dad died and he gained control of his company. The fact that I did love him, if only as a dear and near friend, made the choice a little easier. Four years of one night stands and guys who thought date rape where just four letter words had left me with no real urge to find a man anyway.

So we had came back and eventually got married becoming yet another happy upper class couple in a town full of them. I know what your next question will be, if Marcus is gay then how do we have two children? Well I can tell you that Marcus is the father of both of them. Granted the conception required the assistance of one of Marcus's "City Friends" who was kind enough to use his cock as a prostate massager whilst Marcus closed his eyes and thought of England. Let me tell ya, nothing makes a girl feel more special that the man with his cock inside her trying not to dry heave.

We had been happy though, like I said I do love Marcus and he is a better father than most men could ever hope to be. Filled with a drive to avoid the mistakes his own father made I'm sure. In publi we would kiss and hug and hold hands like everyone expected, I would listen to the inane sex talk of the trophy wives that infested the town like alice. Throwing in the odd bit lie lifted from the pages of some shitty sex advice column and everyone got to stay in there little safe bubble. His job would often send him on trips to the city and during those he would visit his "City Friends" to take care of his needs.

For my part I never really had much interest in sex after university, as I said you can only be plied with drink and promises of eternal love so many times before you lose the taste for it. So I had been happy to pour my efforts into our children and my work.

However as the years have gone by I have found my eye beginning to wander, the thought of sex starting to gain some of its old alure. It is still nothing more than my fingers and the shower head right now but I know that that won't do forever.

When Marcus had gotten a taste for politics and set his sights on holding office we had had to change the way things went. Like I said, this State is about as unfriendly to the gays as it can get without actually making them illegal. The risk of being revealed was a very real one and so the visits to the city friends stopped. A hard drive of gay porn(downloaded from another computer in another state) had replaced the visits to the "City Friends".

At least, that's what I had thought.

"Care to explain this?" I asked, sounding more like a school teacher who has just found some sweets in a student's pocket than a wife that has just received pictures of her husband swallowing another man's cum.

Marcus looked sheepish, "It was just one night when I was in the City last month." He puts down the tablet and looks at me again.

"We talked about this," I begin, my voice softening as I see the panic starting to creep over him. He never was very good at hiding his emotions. I sigh and lean back in my chair, realising that I am once again going to have to be the strong one.

"They want me to meet them tomorrow," I say, giving up on pointing fingers. The cock is out of the bag and now we have to deal with the mess.

"You can't!" Marcus exclaims, his eyes wide.

"I don't have much choice," I say wearily, already playing out how this will go in my mind's eye. I wonder how much money they are going to demand. "If I don't show up then these photos will be splattered across every fucking news site around and you can kiss your campaign goodbye."

"Fuck it!" He replies, "It's more stress than it is worth, I would rather lose it than pay some fucking blackmailing shit heel!"

"And your father?" I ask. "Life will be kind of hard for us if he kicks you out of the company and cuts you from his will."

Which is exactly what the homophobic old cunt would do.

I add to myself.

Defeated Marcus puts his head in his hands. I feel pity for him and walk around to his side, rubbing his shoulder.

"I'll go and collect the demands tomorrow and then we will pay them and they will go away for awhile." I don't try to pretend that paying the money will be the end of it. I'm not a fucking idiot.

"Once your father is dead none of this will matter." I say, thinking about how thin and frail the old shit had looked the last time I had seen him.

"Ok," I hear Marcus say through his hands, his voice tight with emotion.

He sounds how I feel.

****

The meeting spot was a cafe in the city center, I arrived half an hour early after not getting a wink of sleep. I had spent a good chunk of that time talking Marcus out of coming along with me. He had only given in when I pointed out that pictures of him meeting with the blackmailers would only make things worse. I spun a lie about how we could claim it was a photoshop or a look alike if they asked for too much.

Sitting waiting for someone to show up I ran down what we could do if they want too much money. I spent some time looking up where we would stand if his father tried to force him out of the company. Hell we were not hard up for money and I had no love for this stagnant backwater but for some reason Marcus felt tied to it.

As much as he might have known in his mind that his Father was a peice of shit he could never shake the need for his love. I realised long ago that if he ever lost that it would destroy him and I cared about him far too much to every force that kind of pain on him.

I was snapped out of these worried as a man in a well fitted suit sat down across from me. I was about to tell him that seat was taken when he looked up and asked.

"Mrs. Mckellar, yes?"

"Ye...yes." I stuttered out, this guy sure as fuck did not look like a the kind of person who would be blackmailing someone. He looked like he should be giving a talk about the exciting world of beige.

"I have come to offer our terms." He continued on, pulling a sheaf of paper from his briefcase as he spoke and passing it across the table.

I look at the papers, the two on the outside where just full of gibberish but the one in the middle had a neatly formatted list of demands. That I read with a sinking heart.

Please find below a itemised list of our demands as well as a description of what will occur if these demands are not met.

Mrs. Mckellar will accept possession of a cell phone that we shall provide. She is expected to keep this phone on hand at all times.

When she is contacted using this phone she must answer in a timely fashion.

Any orders given using this phone must be followed to the letter with no delay.

If Mrs. Mckellar follows these demands the photographs will not be released to the wider public.

However if for whatever reason she refuses these terms or is unable or unwilling to fulfill a order at a later date. The photographs will be released online and to the media within 24 hours.

These terms are non negotiable and any attempt to alter them will be considered a refusal of terms.

This is a one time only offer, if you wish to accept it Mrs. Mckellar will accompany our representative in his car. The terms will be considered to have been accepted when she takes possession of the cell phone.

I put the paper down, my heart sinking so low it was at risk of tearing through my asshole and hitting the floor. So they didn't want favours or money for the pictures, they wanted me for something I could guess.

I looked at the man across the table, he betrayed no emotion as he calmly lay a cheap phone in front of me.

I stared at it for what felt like a age, I am not naive, I knew exactly where this would lead if I took that phone and got in that car. As I ran through best and worst case scenarios I found nothing I liked but also nothing I liked less than the future I was sure to have if I didn't take the offer.

There was no time to talk to Marcus, no time to really think at all, I had to make my mind up right now.

I picked up the phone, it felt like a lead weight in my hand as I watched the man across the table quirk a smile.

As we stood up and began to walk out of the cafe I thought about the best and worst cases for what lay ahead of me. As it would turn out the rest of that day would hold events that were not my worst case scenario.

Although that really is not saying much.

****

By the time I was dropped off in front of my house it was nearing midnight. I climbed out of the black SUV on shaky legs, glad for the small mercy of them allowing me to shower and keep my clothes clean.

When I pushed open the front door I found Marcus sitting waiting for me, his face a mask of fear and worry. I ignored his questions and staggered up to my bedroom, despite the shower I still felt dirty but I knew that another shower would not change that.

MArcus followed me into my room, still asking me what had happened, where I had gone and what had been said. I was in no mood to talk so I just sent him on his way with a curt remark of.

"It's done."

He didn't believe me.

Fuck, I didn't believe me.

****

You have to admit,

a perverse little voice in my head whispered.

You do look pretty good for your age.

The pictures had been sent to me through the mail. A plain brown envelope that I pulled open without really thinking. Dumping the contents out onto my desk in a spray of glossy photo paper, each one a snapshot of my debasement.

I was lucky that I had been working from home today. Quickly I went and locked my home office door before sitting back down and giving the photos a proper look.

There were easily fifty pictures all told and all on the same theme, some were wide shots, where you could see myself and the men crowded around me. Either ramming their cocks roughly into my mouth and pussy or waiting their turn. Cocks in hand as they watched the others. Yet more of them were close-ups of my body and face. A cock withdrawing from my sex, a stream of cum pouring out as I overflowed from the other men. My face, a mess of smudged make-up and semen, captured just as a long stream of cum shot acros my cheeks.

Over that one night every part of my body that could be used to bring a man to climax had been used and they had gotten the photos to prove it. The final image in the set was the nail in the coffin. It was just me, flat out on my back on the bed, spread eagled with my eyes closed. The flash of the camera picking up the slug trails of semen that crisscrossed my body. My sex stretched wide and leaking a thick stream of off white fluid and laying on my stomach, clear as day, was my drivers license.

A part of me felt a bit sick at seeing these stark images of what had happened but I wasn't too shocked by them. I had seen the camera, been dazzled by the flash as I had it stuck in my face. Had listened to the men joking about how much a porno of a senator's wife would fetch. The memory of them laughing and joking as I lay on the bed. Panting for breath before another cock was rammed into my mouth. Hearing a man grunt as he came inside of me, his cock being withdrawn and quickly replaced with another.

At the bottom of the pile where a few copies of the photos of my husband. The message clear,

Cooperate or your husband goes down as well

. Yet there wasn't a note with demands, in fact the envelope was empty aside from the pictures. I leant back in my chair, I guess they want me to sweat a bit before they make their demands. It wasn't like the demands are going to be hard to predict. It will be a phone call or text, another order to arrive at a certain place. Be picked up by a certain car and then be fucked by a collection of men in balaclavas.

I shuffle the pictures back into the envelope, making a mental note to burn them. As I start to shutdown my computer and tidy things away I am distantly aware that I am panicking. My mind riding the crest of a wave of fear that was very likely going to drown me when it finally crashed down.

I've been here before however, granted the last time it was pictures of my husband sucking some back alley cock. It really is a whole other thing when the pictures were of you doing your best impression of a cum dumpster. The context didn't matter to the pictures, the fact that you were coerced, that you drank yourself as close to unconsciousness before it to get through it. In the end the reasons would come out and that would be it. Marcus's was barely in the senate and if this came out there was no way he would last. He needed time to do enough good for the people of the state that they would be on his side or at least not care when this came to light.

So you sit back in your chair and think, performing the same mental gymnastics that had gotten you through the times Marcus had forced himself to have sex with you. Back then you had told yourself that it was so you could have children and now you told yourself it was so you could keep what you had.

However as you sit there the thing that keeps you from losing it is a single burning coal of anger. A white hot ball that demands you find the names of every last person involved in this and bring them down.

You allow yourself a tiny smile as you think about it. These people clearly think they know what they are doing but you doubt they have ever met someone like you.