“Where did you get those?”

The question was asked casually, almost indifferently, as if the scenes captured in the photos were not noteworthy in the slightest. Inwardly, however, the shock was now settling in, and Jasmine tried to control her breathing, well-aware of the growing panic that threatened to overwhelm her, the realization that all her careful secrecy had availed her naught. The office was deserted now save for Petra and herself, yet even a thousand people had been on hand to aid her, the beautiful Indian woman knew she could never have asked for help.

Not while she was being blackmailed…

“Oh, these?” Petra asked disingenuously, and it was all Jasmine could do not to smack the triumphant smirk off the other woman’s face, a task made all the harder as she began to lay more photos down onto her desk, like a gambler revealing a winning hand. More photos still emerged from the great wheeled leather trunk she’d been hauling behind her, until the thirty-year-old financial advisor’s desk was covered with the evidence of her misdeeds, a mosaic of images fit to damn her completely. “Security camera footage, bugging your phone and laptop, plus some good old-fashioned snooping. Now, this one is really interesting.” The blonde gave a mocking gasp as one particular photo made its way to the top of the pile, and Jasmine’s stomach churned to see she’d been spied upon while making love.

And not with her husband either. “Sleeping your way to the top, huh? Tsk, tsk,” scolded the other woman. “I mean, I always knew you were a slut, but poor Daniel… I could totally see this breaking his heart.”

Jasmine’s jaw clenched so hard she could almost hear her teeth grinding. “What do you want?”

“Plenty.” The first hint of anger wormed its way into Petra’s voice, the envy she’d harboured for the Indian woman for years making itself known. “That promotion you earned whoring yourself out to the boss, first and foremost. But for now, I’ll settle for giving you a well-earned punishment. Strip.”

“I beg your pardon?” demanded Jasmine.

“You heard me. Strip. All of it.” Petra waved a sheaf of the blackmail material. “You wouldn’t want all this to be attached to a company-wide e-mail, would you?”

She had no choice. Biting back a growl, Jasmine did as she was told, rising from her chair and unbuttoning her black business jacket. Her white blouse, mid-length black skirt and high-heeled shoes went next, but only after a threat to post videos of Jasmine sleeping with her boss on every adult site known to man did the Indian woman give in and strip off her bra and panties, leaving her naked as a new laid egg. “Hands to your sides,” Petra ordered, and Jasmine grudgingly pulled her hands away from her more intimate regions so that she stood fully revealed before the other woman. “Very nice. No wonder the boss favours you, with tits like that.”

Dusky features darkening further with anger, Jasmine remained stubbornly silent. “Well, if you’re going to be like that…” The leather trunk was thrown open again, and dark eyes widened in astonishment as a bundle of ropes was produced and thrown at her feet. From the pocket of the blonde’s coat came a large red ball gag, and Petra approached with a cruel smile. “You won’t mind wearing this, would you?”

Jasmine shuddered in disgust, the threat of blackmail momentarily forgotten. “I’m not putting that in my mouth. I—mmmpggghh!” Quick as a cat, Petra thrust the gag home, reducing her protests to meaningless utterances. Then came the ropes, the first coil looping around to bind her wrists behind her back, and Jasmine squirmed about, eyes bright with indignant rage. “Mmmmppggghh, mmmppggghhh!”

Immediately, Petra ceased, and Jasmine felt her heart skip a beat. “You want to be like that? Okay then. Just let me take all these photos, and I’ll get out of your hair. I’m sure someone will find you tomorrow. Whether you still have a career, though…”

“Mmmmppggghhh!” Jasmine cried out in dismay, realizing her mistake. And before she could come to her senses, she was on her knees before her rival, a stream of muffled pleas escaping past the gag and helpless tears filling her eyes. “Mmmpgggh, mmmpppgghh!”

“So you don’t want me to show the world the kind of faithless slut you are? Is that it, huh?”

“MMMPPGGGHHH!”

Cold hands yanked on her long, dark locks, and Jasmine bit back a cry of pain. “You’re going to be a good girl? You’re not going to give me any more trouble?”

Weeping openly now, Jasmine nodded, utterly defeated. “Then hold still,” Petra snapped, bringing forth fresh coils. The Indian woman’s wrists were properly secured, followed by her ankles and thighs, then another coil looped around her upper body to encircle it beneath her generous breasts. Finally, a length was belted about her waist before being drawn tight up between her legs, and Petra gave another smirk at her captive’s moan of pleasure. “Figured you might like that. And now, for the final step.”

The heavy trunk was brought forward, and Jasmine offered a frightened gasp as she realized what her captor intended. “What? I can’t exactly carry you out of here in public, now can I?” Petra asked, revelling in the other woman’s fear. “Unless of course you want everyone to see you naked.”

Sobbing, Jasmine shook her head, and did not resist as Petra lifted her up to place her into the trunk. It was painfully cramped, just large enough to contain her if she scrunched up, a process helped by the additional ropes that wove about her curvy figure to keep her trapped in a ball-tie. “This is your own fault, you know. If you’d just acted decently, I’d never have anything to blackmail you with. For now though, get comfy,” Petra told her. “This trunk is going to be your home for the next little while. And after that, well… why spoil the surprise?”

And then the lid of the trunk was sealed, and Jasmine heard metal clasps locking with sharp clicks, and she knew she was doomed to suffer at the hands of a blackmailer. Daniel, I’m so sorry. Please find it in your heart to forgive me.

Even if you never see me again…