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Introduction:

The beginning of the Suburban Sadist....

Suburban Sadist - Origin

This story contains:
Blackmail
Humiliation

The actions described are fictitious and entirely illegal and immoral.

***

Sadism:
noun
1. Psychiatry. The condition in which sexual gratification depends on causing pain or degradation to others.
2. Any enjoyment in being cruel.
3. Extreme cruelty

***

Mrs Blackwell looked at me with wide and tear-filled eyes as I explained what was going to happen to her. She would come to understand that her body was no longer hers. Instead, it would be mine and she would obey exactly what I commanded her to do.

It is a strange feeling to control someone so completely, to utterly dominate another person, to know that I will get what I want from them, and most importantly, to know that they know.

It is in incredible feeling to look at someone and know you are more devious, more cunning, more logical, more intelligent, and simply more powerful. The moment they understand and break is euphoric to me and that is exactly what makes me a sadist.

Of course, this doesn’t have to happen: Mrs Blackwell could go to the police, she could end this immediately and I wouldn’t stop her, the only thing keeping her here are her own failings.

“You will strip for me, as I command, and I will take the photos I need. Do you understand Gemma?”

“Y… yes Sir.”

“And do you know what each flash of my camera means Gemma?”

Mrs Blackwell’s head dropped and she held back her tears as I slowly explained the new reality she was living in.

“N… no Sir.”

“It means…” I paused so she would submissively look up at me, “it means everything I see, I own. Do you understand Gemma?”

The distraught woman wiped a tear from her eye as she managed a reply for her blackmailer, “Yes Sir.”

“Good girl, stand by the wall.”

Slowly Gemma got up from her seat and stood where I pointed. First I turned on my bright halogen lamp and pointed it directly at the scared woman. Then I picked up my large and heavy professional DSLR from the desk and slowly stalked towards her. Her limbs were so tense I could see them freeze as her eyes fixated on the camera.

“Hands by your side.”

The woman, 15 years my senior, obeyed quickly enough and looked absent-mindedly into the camera for the first shot. The large flash mounted on top of the camera did its job and caught the image of a trapped housewife desperate for the torture to end, or at least, desperate to know what it would entail.

“Hmmm… I need you to smile Gemma.”

My victim shuddered just slightly. She was obviously in no mood to even act enjoyment.

“P….please...”

“Please?” I echoed, but I only needed a raised eyebrow to elicit a response.

“P… please Sir.”

“There is no negotiation Mrs Blackwell.”

Gemma took a couple of deep breaths and found the strength to look back up at the camera. With wet eyes she finally managed a weak smile and my camera caught her humiliation and dread perfectly.

Over the next hour I cataloged Mrs Blackwell – Gemma – perfectly. As she stripped each piece of clothing from her body she was documented. From sweater to t-shirt, from jeans to panties, each transition was recorded, front and back. It was a record of a new slave entering her new world and showing exactly what she had to offer her new master. Obediently, gradually becoming accustomed to my sharp commands, Gemma posed for me with her hands behind her head, or bent at the waist with her tits swaying obscenely, or with her legs spread wide and awkwardly. My camera would capture everything and with each explicit statue she made for me, she would realise she was mine to do with as I wanted.

Of course, this gradual transition to ownership ends with the climax of the victim’s complete nakedness and so, finally, Gemma’s body was totally exposed to me. As I ask – or command – a new piece of property to spread her pussy, or her ass cheeks, or hold her tits up for inspection, neither of us can deny the transition is complete: My camera captures a body and a person that is totally mine.

The details of my story are obscene, vile and incredibly illegal. I am the Suburban Sadist.

Suburbia is hell so it should be no surprise it spawned a devil. I grew up in the most boring of neighborhoods: families of 2.3 children; whitewashed houses and immaculate laws; baseball on Saturday; PTA meetings; SUVs and people carriers; and gossip and rumors among the soon-to-be-rich. In essence, all the dead-livingness of middle-America in its modern glory: an incredible sea of boredom and fantasy.

So maybe I was lucky I understood which sexual fantasies would drive me through life. Of course, when you’re in high school this isn’t the most important question. In fact, it isn’t a question to be asked at all. My grades were good, very good, and that would keep me easily below the familial and suburbia radars, but it was my sexual desires that would inhabit and consume my free time. Of course I had the sense to try (and fail) at organized sports and I happily passed time in more useful extra-curricular school activities involved with business or science. But I cannot deny my real passion was something wholly unpalatable to most - most inhabitants of suburbia anyway.

Of course, suburbia keeps secrets. That is what it is designed to do with similar houses, similar families, similar jobs, similar hobbies, and in fact, maybe the same lives. So it was strange when I realized we all keep secrets. I remember, bored with a piece of easy chemistry homework, staring out of my window and seeing a car park opposite my house. The occupant, dressed in a dark blue suit of a style I would later know was common in the city (the place the ‘suburbanites’ wish to make it rich) left his car and seemed to creep up to the door of number 324. I was fascinated with the doorstep exchange as Mrs Wilk first tried to negotiate with the stranger then finally started shouting. I couldn’t make out her words but my heart pumped with seeing a little bit of true passion in this manicured wilderness. The well-suited man kept up his ministrations but Mrs Wilk finally got rid of him. As he left for his expensive car her body language betrayed the meaning of the meeting as she looked desperately for neighborhood witnesses. He was a lover? Or a co-worker? A betrayed relative? But it didn’t matter exactly what, her secret was out: she had a secret.

Mrs Wilk was not a beautiful woman but I fantasized about her that night. I imagined I had her secret and that I knew the man in the rich blue suit. More, I had the paperwork that proved her infidelity or her dark secret. It was easy to think of the suburban housewife on her knees in front of me, begging, pleading for me to keep the secret. ‘Sure, but take your top off.’ ‘I won’t tell if you won’t.’ ‘Show me your tits Mrs Wilk,’ ‘I’ll stay quiet if you suck it Mrs Wilk.’ The fantasies were endless and they quickly got explicit. If I am honest, there has never been any controlling them.

So maybe I was forced by my psyche, my fetish, and maybe I had no control. But critically I turned my desires into action. With the dedication I showed to the periodic table or to American history I turned to my dark desires.

Surveilling a neighborhood is not difficult. If you pretend to do homework for 5 hours a day in your room, if you pretend a telescope is for the stars, if you can sneak out of your house at 1am, if you can take any and all neighborhood pocket money jobs going, and most importantly, if you can keep meticulous notes of everything you see and hear, it’s not difficult. I won’t deny it was and is an obsession. If you pay $300 for the latest mini-camera, or a piece of software to hack emails, it is certainly an obsession, especially for a high-school boy.

So I got to know people’s secrets, or more particularly, women’s secrets. Jane Downser at 348 would get as drunk as possible on a Friday night if her husband was away. Sophie Beckels, a girl a year above me, living at 471 had two boyfriends at different schools. Her mother, Anne, had a kid nobody knew about. Tracy Spizfell enjoyed bisexual erotic stories after her family went to sleep. Josie Tress had a past nobody in this suburbia could possibly imagine.

I got this information from the internet with sly little software that would do the job for me. Better still, and more difficult, from awkward conversations at the right moment with friendly neighborhood confidants, or loose talk after I had cleaned gutters and mowed lawns, or little cameras hidden away in the darkest rooms and moments of American suburbia. The information was overwhelming and my spider’s web was growing quickly by the end of high school.

I was 18 and attending community college when I finally took the plunge and decided to manifest my desires. Mrs Tiffany Sands was divorced with two children at college out of state. She worked in upper management at a local big business. She was an ‘upstanding member of the community’, as they say, a member of the neighborhood committee and beginning to get involved with local politics. For the first few years of my research I thought she was spotless – someone without anything to hide, truly a perfect suburbanite. I suppose this was why I concentrated on her so much. I had blackmail material on many other women but I was desperate to prove even the ‘best’ had a dark past too. It also helped that Mrs Sands was a genuine MILF: a gorgeous mother who it was easy to imagine doing all sorts of dirty stuff with.

I continued gathering evidence about everyone else in the neighborhood but Tiffany became an obsession. It was the greatest day when I finally found a loose thread to pull on. As I was looking through some old files in her house (I had been her gardener for a full 3 years) I found 2 photocopies of checks made out to cash. They were pretty big and from a company called Avecom Media.

I pounced on this tiny piece of information. After searching state records, then country-wide listings I found the defunct company in Miami. It took even longer to find out what the company actually did and it was the greatest success of all my surveillance: softcore porn! The company had long since shut down, there were no tax records for 5 years previous. It took hours upon hours and many long-distance phone calls but I finally found the name of the previous CEO. Another 20 or so hours and I had his current contact information. Anonymously, with a return postal address at a safety deposit box, I contacted this man and inquired whether he had a back catalog. I said I was searching for Tiffany’s 2 videos (I had ‘forgotten’ her last name). I said they were ‘always my favorite’ and asked whether I could buy the master copies. I offered a check to cash for $1000. This was a huge amount of money, months of yard-work, but I was desperate and hopeful it would help the CEO ignore the legal aspect of my request.

After a full month of waiting I checked my safety-deposit box and my knees nearly crumpled as I saw a package. I rushed home and tore open the bag. It was two VHS tapes with scrawled titles ‘Tiffany 94’ and ‘Tiff 94’. My excitement grew as I rummaged in the attic for a video player. Finally, with everyone out of the house I sat down to watch Mrs Sands’ naughty past. Although these master copies were only softcore and grainy with terrible cheesy music I delighted in the sight of Tiffany’s younger body, her pouting made-up face and her beautiful tits, ass and thighs swaying to the music. I immediately made 2 copies and tried to relax. Everything I had been working towards for years had come to fruition: I had Tiffany’s secret.

What I did next was dangerous. I suppose it was an ‘amateur’ mistake but I simply couldn’t control my desire and rushed into things. Luckily it – mostly – worked out. On a sunny Saturday, knowing Mrs Sands’ kids would not be back from college, I rang the doorbell of 397.

“Hello Josh, what can I do for you?”

Immediately my face turned red at the thought of what I was about to do and I stammered an answer, “I… uh… I just thought I’d… er…. like to have a chat.”

“Right, well I suppose.”

I stood there awkwardly and finally motioned to be allowed in. Tiffany led me to the lounge with a little concern on her face.

“Are you alright? Do you need a glass of water?”

“Err… yes.. err… yes please, thank you,” I was grateful for a chance to pause.

My heart thumped in its chest as I watched Mrs Sands walk to the kitchen. The sight of her ass was gorgeous and I knew it was now or never.

Tiffany returned with the glass and sat opposite.

“So what’s this about then, you need more gardening work?”

“I.. . umm…” I realized I hadn’t thought this through. I couldn’t form any words so simply tried to make my actions count. “I think you should have these.” I took out a plastic bag from my backpack and put it on the table. Mrs Sands gave a slight smile as she picked it up.

“Very mysterious Josh.”

Her face dropped as she pulled out the two video tapes and read the labels.

“Where did you get these?”

“I…”

“Where did you get these?!”

Tiffany’s face had gone bright red as she nearly shouted at me.

“Y… you know…”

“I know what they are! Where did you get them!?”

“I… I haven’t…”

“You… you haven’t…. You haven’t watched them? Where did you get them!?” Mrs Sands was now shouting and I couldn’t put two words together. I thought I had made the biggest mistake. I looked down as I began twitching with fright.

“Josh! Answer me! Where did you get these!?”

I managed to make eye contact and stutter an answer, “Av… Avecom Media”.

“That bastard!”

Immediately Tiffany ripped off the side of the first video and pulled out the tape. She was fuming as she quickly destroyed the second video too. I could only glance up at the disaster I had caused. Finally, satisfied with her destruction, she seemed to calm down a little.

“Did you make copies?”

I couldn’t answer.

“JOSH! Did you make copies?”

“I… errr… yes.” I was simply shell-shocked, everything I fantasized about was going out of the window.

“Where are they? Where are they Josh?” Although she seemed to have calmed down a little she was clearly desperate for the copies. “Josh, you need to give them to me… right now!” As she said this she got up and stood over me. I felt an inch tall.

“Josh… now! You need to give them to me now.”

I nearly crumpled; none of my bedroom fantasies had gone this way. But out of the corner of my eye I saw Mrs Sands’ skirt halfway down her toned legs. It was easy to imagine the rest of her body and this gave me a tiny surge of power.

“No,” I mumbled.

“What?”

“No… you,” I paused for breath, still looking at the carpet, “…you need to give me $2000.”

“Is that what you paid for these!?”

“Y…. yes…,” but I was so terrified I offered a moment of honesty, “No… $1000.”

“So that’s it! You want a PROFIT?!” She took a breath, “$2000! You fucking creep! I’m not paying you $2000!”

Tiffany stood silently above me, waiting for an answer, waiting for me to crack.

My mouth was dry and I could hardly speak, “$2000.”

Mrs Sands was obviously thinking and didn’t respond. I suddenly took the opportunity to try to gain a little power. “$2000 and I’ll give you the copies.”

“And I’m meant to fucking trust you!?”

I didn’t dare look up as Tiffany put the pressure back on me. I swallowed and managed an answer, “Yes.”

“You’ve got them on you?”

“No,” I was still looking at the carpet and avoiding eye contact which gave me the strength to push my position, “money first.”

“What the fuck!? You little shit!” I stayed silent and waited for her move. “When? When do I get the copies?”

“Tomorrow,” I muttered.

“How the fuck can I trust you?”

Silence filled the room as we both waited for me to answer. Finally I found a spark of inspiration: “You can’t.”

I could hear Mrs Sands exhale deeply, I knew I had shocked her and I pressed my advantage, “I could upload them…”

Tiffany cut me off, “You could fucking upload them to the internet and ruin me. That’s your game right?”

Again I stayed silent, desperate that she’d begin to succumb. I knew I’d probably never have the nerve to share the video and this was my only chance: a bluff.

“You want to let everyone see these videos, you want to make sure you make your money otherwise you’re going to fuck me!”

I could hardly contain myself at her use of words but kept staring at the floor. A flush of excitement spread across my body knowing that she knew the position she was in.

“I haven’t got $2000,” Tiffany offered.

I hadn’t thought of this. I paused for a second then meekly suggested, “Check.”

I could hardly believe it when, without replying, Mrs Sands stormed out of the room. For a second my mind was terrorized, I imagined her going to the police, or even my mother and explaining what I had done. I imagined myself behind bars.

Suddenly a wave of relief washed over me as I heard Tiffany storm up the stairs, apparently to look for her check book. I slumped into my chair and finally managed to raise my head. Looking back, that was the instant I knew I had her. But not only Tiffany, I had all the women of the neighborhood in my spider’s web.

I managed to make eye contact with Mrs Sands as she came back into the lounge. A feeling of power came over me as I saw her red face and her check book gripped tightly in her hand. Furiously she began scratching details into the check book.

“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen,” she fixed me with a deadly stare, “you’re going to take this check. Tomorrow you’re going to give me any copies you made. Then, you’re going to forget about all this. I….,” Tiffany took a breath, unsure of herself, “I…. I’m sure you watched the videos. You’re going to forget that, forget anything you saw. And you’re never going to talk to me again.” She finished writing out the check and tore it aggressively out of the book.

“And if anybody, ANYBODY, sees those videos, if they’re uploaded to fucking Youtube of whatever, If they touch the light of day, you’re done.” Slowly Tiffany offered the check to me. I could hardly make eye contact as the steamed, “Josh!” I looked up at the enraged woman, “If ANYBODY sees that video, you’re done. I will make sure of it. The police? The government? You want to go to jail?”

I couldn’t help myself responding to her anger, “N… no.”

“Good. If you fucking cross me you will. Do you understand?”

I merely nodded in response.

“Now, take the check, cash it. And what are you going to do tomorrow?” Her eyes pierced into mine as she waited for my humbled response.

“I…,” I gulped to hide my real feelings of excitement, “I’ll give you the copies.”

“And what happens if anyone sees the videos?”

Again she waited for my meek reply, “I…. police.”

“That’s right. The fucking police and my friends at city hall. Take the check Josh.”

I struggled to look at the MILF I had blackmailed. Awkwardly I took the piece of paper and shoved it into my pocket without looking.

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

I almost did. Mrs Sands had abused me so much I thought staying any longer was useless. I had never thought she could be like this. But as I looked into her beautiful face, and as my eyes glanced at her beautiful body, I knew I wanted more. I knew I didn’t care about the consequences: getting her would be worth it. I took a deep breath and desperately tried to take control, “No.”

“No? We’re done! Get out of my house.” Tiffany obviously couldn’t believe this 18 year old was standing his ground. However, she showed weakness when she actually waited for my response.

“You…,” this is probably the stupidest thing I have ever said to a woman under my control but I don’t mind because of what it got me, “you…. need to make me cum.” I already had a boner and my lust gave me the strength to look Mrs Sands directly in the face. She glanced down at my jeans and I desperately kept eye contact when she tried to stare me down.

“Cum? What the fuck! Make you cum!? Are you a fucking idiot? I’ve given you $2000. You think I’m a fucking slut? Cum? Get the fuck out of my house!” I shouldn’t have been surprised that Tiffany finally got physical. She grabbed my collar and pulled me to my feet. “Get the fuck out.” She was almost hysterical as she pushed me towards the door of the lounge.

It took all my strength to respond, “Otherwise…,” Mrs Sands paused and I knew she realized she had underestimated me.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Again, but with less force, she pushed me towards the door.

“I would.”

My response was almost silent but it stopped Tiffany in her tracks. Her hand relaxed on my collar and her shoulders slumped. I knew then that it was the moment I broke her. With a flush of power in my body I simply repeated my stupid-sounding request, “Make me cum.”

“Or you’re going to… to send those videos? You’re fucking blackmailing me!? You’re fucking blackmailing me for…”

She didn’t have the strength to finish her sentence and I didn’t respond: we both knew the situation. Finally I knew Tiffany couldn’t compete with the power I had over her and I started to assert myself. Slowly her grip on my shoulder weakened. A surge of adrenaline rushed through my body as I realised my next move. Quickly I grabbed her hand and pulled it forcefully downwards to my crotch. I pushed her palm up against my jeans and against my cock that was straining against the fabric.

“No,” Tiffany tried her hardest to sound strong and her hand twitched away from my jeans. I didn’t respond and simply guided her palm back to my crotch. Again, but more weakly Tiffany responded to my physicality, “no.”

But I felt the warm buzz of conquest flowing over me. I held her wrist and pushed her hand onto my crotch and repeated the stupid words “Make me cum.” I looked Mrs Sands directly in the eyes as I forced her limp hand to roam over my engorged dick. After the shock of the videos from her past and the hastily written check it seemed like I had shattered Mrs Sands.

“No,” Tiffany again mindlessly protested. She could have easily pulled away but her hand only moved a couple of inches. Again I pushed her palm into my crotch.

“Make me cum… and you get the videos.” I explained simply and gently. Now it was her turn to look into the carpet. It seemed all the fight had gone out of her as I forced her hand up and down my shaft.

“But…”

I ignored her protestations and started to assert myself and fully control the interaction, “5 minutes… 5 minutes and I’m out of our life and you can forget about the videos, and your past” I added menacingly. Tiffany’s eyes darted to the destroyed video tapes on the table. I repeated myself, almost in a whisper, “5 minutes.”

It was an unbelievable feeling as I felt Tiffany squeeze my cock of her own accord. She had suddenly lost any fight as she freely began stroking my cock through my jeans. I took my hand away and shivered as I contemplated my next move. After a silent minute, slowly, not wanting to upset the now obedient MILF, I reached for my fly. Gently, as Mrs Sands kept up her ministrations, I undid the button and zipper to my jeans. Quickly my cock shot out through the fly of my boxers. With an intake of breath after seeing my erect penis, Mrs Sands quickly took her hand away. I looked at her face for a information but her head was down.

Gently I guided Tiffany through her submission to me and told her what to do, “Stroke it. 5 minutes,” I reminded her: 5 minutes and she would be free of her past and of her stupid young blackmailer.

With her last ounce of resistance Tiffany weakly muttered, “No,” but at the same time her fingers wrapped around my cock. I could hardly contain my urge to cum.

Slowly, silently, Mrs Sands began rubbing my member up and down. Even at 18 I didn’t actually have any experience with girls and the sensation was incredible, my cock-head was coated in pre-cum and it took every muscle to avoid me exploding right there and then.

For about 5 minutes we stood in silence as the beautiful neighborhood MILF stood beside me and slowly jerked the cock of her blackmailer. She seemed inexperienced, nervous and timid as her fingers gently roamed over my shaft and mushroom head. Her head was down and I ignored her sniffling as she obviously tried not to cry. But suddenly her pace increased; slowly her hand gripped tighter and her strokes covered my full length. Gently she whispered in my ear, “Cum…” I realized it for what it was, Mrs Sands trying to regain some control, finish me as soon as possible and put this nightmare behind her.

It was a struggle and it took all my control to realise what she was doing. Desperately I held onto this single orgasm I had blackmailed my beautiful neighbor into. Tiffany increased her efforts and whispered again into my ear, “Cum for me.” It almost sounded like she was begging.

I took the opportunity to demand more. I told myself that if she wanted me to cum she would have to earn it. I mustered all the bass in my voice: “Suck it.” I didn’t let her answer. Instead I simply put my hand on her shoulder. Gently I pushed down and I almost came straight away as Tiffany didn’t resist and simply began to lower herself to the floor.

It felt like a dream as I looked down on Mrs Sands on her knees in front of me, my dick pointing towards her face as she reluctantly quickened her handjob. I knew she wanted me to cum as soon as possible and I clenched every muscle to prolong the overwhelming experience. I desperately wanted to feel her lips around my cock so I guided her actions and hoped she was too broken to resist, “Open your mouth.”

Mrs Sands only glanced at me before she submissively obeyed. Opening her mouth in front of my cock she slowly lent forwards and wrapped her lips around the end of my penis. Tiffany didn’t hesitate as she sucked powerfully on my tip. I didn’t know whether that was her natural instinct or whether she simply wanted this blowjob over as quickly as possible but she nearly succeeded and I tensed my loins and exhaled deeply, desperate for just another minute of bliss before my inevitable climax.

Gently Mrs Sands pushed her face into my crotch and the sight of my cock inching into her mouth was delicious. Slowly she pulled back and repeated the process, all the while properly sucking as her tongue slid across my wet penis. I knew I could only hold off for a few more seconds. Gently I placed a hand on the back of the MILF’s head: I wanted to fuck her face just like the porn films I’d watched.

Tiffany didn’t protest and again she thrust herself forward, so much so that I felt my engorged cockhead hit the back of her throat. Without even thinking my hand pulled her head onto my cock. For a split second I penetrated her throat and that was all it took to push me over the edge. My hips and legs shuddered as my cum exploded into Mrs Sands’ mouth. As the first spurt filled her mouth Tiffany immediately gagged and pulled her head back. With wide eyes the mother of two withdrew completely off my spasming cock. I suppose that was a mistake because the next spurt of cum splashed across the MILF’s mouth, nose and into the edge of her eye.

I couldn’t control the orgasm and my knees shuddered as it ripped through me. The feeling was only increased when Tiffany, seeing how much cum I was going to deposit, quickly wrapped her mouth back around my cock. I don’t know whether she didn’t want any more on her face, or her clothes, or whether it was just natural for her but Mrs Sands obediently let me deposit spurt after spurt of cum directly into her warm and wet mouth.

After what felt like a blissful eternity my hips and legs relaxed and my dick finished twitching inside Tiffany’s mouth. With my last orgasmic gasp the older woman immediately pulled her mouth off my prick. Instinctively she held a cupped hand under her mouth and let my semen sloppily drool out. Her hair was in the way but her shuddering shoulders told me she was certainly disgusted and probably crying.

I stood in shock for a couple of seconds before I realized what I had done. I knew I had to get out of her house as soon as possible. “I’ll give you the copies tomorrow,” I gasped. Again, I sounded like a stupid teenager and I almost sounded sorry for what I had done. But I wasn’t. I didn’t care because I had got what I wanted: the beautiful neighbor serving my cock. As I hurriedly did up my trousers Tiffany didn’t look at me. Instead she simply hunched over her cupped hand filled with my seed. Without a word I rushed out of number 397 and ran back to my house.

The feeling was incredible! I had done it! My first conquest! A beautiful woman sucking me off to keep me quiet! I came in her mouth! I couldn’t believe it. Of course I felt guilty: I had taken advantage of Mrs Sands’ past mistake and forced her into a ‘sexual act’. Even worse, I selfishly thought, I had done something that could see me go to jail. But it was a turning point: my lust had overtaken my thoughts and I knew this desire would control me.

The next day I didn’t give Mrs Sands the copies. Of course I should have. After all, I had got what I wanted. But then I realized I didn’t have to: She wasn’t going to risk her secret getting out, especially not with a council election 4 months away. Instead I summoned all my courage and called her. I desperately didn’t want to hear the voice of the woman I abused yesterday so I tried to control the call.

“It’s Josh.”

“You fucki…”

I cut her off, “I’m not giving you the copies. You stay silent, I stay silent. Don’t worry, they’re safe.”

With that I hung up and turned off my phone. For the next hours, days and weeks I was terrified of payback. But soon enough, especially when the $2000 check cashed, I realized Tiffany would stay silent. I started to relax and fantasize about other women in the neighborhood.

It was reckless but my conquest that day was defining: it was the start of my life as the Suburban Sadist. Even after all the women I’ve blackmailed and made into slaves, often my mind returns to those video copies and the beautiful body of Tiffany Sands who still lives at number 397.

***

Message me if you want more from the Suburban Sadist, or Mrs Sands.

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