Considering the whole situation, I realized that I could offer little to these blackmailers at that time: my phone, personal money (around five thousand), and sexual satisfaction (but it was even scary to think about it, because in that case they would let me go then when I bore them, but how long it will last and whether I will stand up to this point is another question).
It was decided to do this: I leave one of the last of the class (the benefit of classes on the second floor), then proceed to the third and I will consistently go to the toilets f-w-starting from the left wing. I recognize their demands and ask for time to think about it.
For greater certainty before the last couple, I ran into the watch myself and took the key to the classroom. While I will be taking it, it will take more time, and there will be even less random witnesses of how I will enter the men's room.
That's exactly what I did. The corridors were already empty apart from 2-3 people at the schedule.
The first female toilet was empty. There I looked at myself in the mirror and straightened my hair. Most likely we will just talk, it is unlikely that they would appoint an appointment here if they counted on sex.
I knocked on the door of the men's room and felt as stupid as possible. Knocking on the door again, I opened it and went inside. It also turned out to be empty, but just in case, I opened all the doors to the booths to make sure of that.
And so, toilet number three.
Remembering the experience with the previous two, I immediately opened the door. This toilet is no longer empty. At the washstand was a guy. We almost ran into him, stopped nose to nose and at the same time both froze for 15 seconds. The guy came out of the stupor first:
- What do you need?
- I ... I'm looking for Misha, but he does not answer calls.
- Is it not destiny to call from behind the door? Get out from here!
- Ham ...
I all flushed flew out of the closet slamming the door. Looks like it was not his note. Lucky what exactly he spoke first. Such a mistake would be disastrous for me.
Well, for that was the last door and this is a female toilet ...
The relief did not last long - no one was in that toilet either. I opened the door and looked at the corridor - in sight of anyone.
And here I myself began to reproach myself:
What is going on? I came late? We had to run right after class! What a fool I am ... what will happen to the video now?
But the phone received a text message from an unfamiliar phone: “Bitch, determine the toilet already and wait for me there naked.”
Well, that's for sure it is.
I wrote a reply sms: “female toilet. Left wing. The last stall.
I pressed "send" and went into the right booth. She closed the toilet lid. sexytales I hung the bag on the hook and as soon as possible I began to take off my clothes and put them on the tank.
Unresolved was only a question with shoes.
I decided to stay in sneakers, and not stand barefoot on a cold and definitely not clean tile.
Waiting was delayed.
She took out the phone, began to look at the screen, although rather I’d rather look between the message tab and the clock.
Probably went the second minute after sending SMS.
I was standing naked in the toilet, I was a little shaken from the cold and fear, my body was covered with goose bumps, and my breathing became faster. I obviously mocked.
The front door opened with a creak.
Closed.
I heard the heels knock on the tile.
Witness? Torturer? Teach?
- Do not hide, vylaz.
Doubts left, it was a girl. The voice seemed to me somehow familiar.
I took the things, pressed them to my chest, took my bag off the hook, covered my fluff with it and opened the door.
In front of me was a girl from our class. She never really stood out for nothing and the guys constantly teased her. No, she was neither scary nor fat, she just lost her voice when she talked to the boys or spoke at the blackboard.
But now in her voice were notes of confidence.
- Do not cover your body, and generally put all your things on the window sill.
It was already stupid to rebel, so I freed my hands and turned back to her.
- You will obey me - no one will know about your hobbies. And if you play around, the video with your participation will be with each of your friends. All clear?
- Yes.
- Tell me who you are, where you are from and where you live.
In the course of the story, she, without taking the camera lens off me, walked behind me and began to scratch on the window sill with my things and again stood in front of me.
She took my phone, asked for the password and started digging into it. The smile on her face clearly did not bode well for me. It looks like she saw photos from the construction site in the gallery, flipped through them, and while I stood there, I looked at the toes of my shoes and was ashamed to look up.
Then she made me tell me what I was doing in that house. All my actions she recorded on the camera of her phone.
In the process, she put me on her knees in an orderly tone and demanded details, especially about my feelings at the same time.
It was very humiliating and exciting at the same time.
I told and threw me from the memories into reality. Excitement prevailed and I lowered my hand and began to caress my clit with my fingers.
She was not against such manipulations and ordered me to spread my legs wider.
When I got to the moment I started to caress myself with a felt-tip pen. She demanded that I stop pleasuring myself, threw me a pack of markers from my bag and told me to put as many markers in my pussy as I could, and at the same time continue my story.
I inserted a marker for each marker, and after each new I made them a couple of frictions.
And so I told about masturbation in the shower.
Olya lowered the phone and approached me.
- Well done whore.
She patted my cheek and left the toilet.
Only at this moment I realized what had just happened:
I was naked on my knees on the floor of the toilet, nadrachivali six felt-tip pens and told about their naked adventures. And all this she wrote on her phone. I could not get away now. My face was exactly captured on her camera, and my voice was there too. And I could not turn to my parents, say that they were blackmailing me, because I myself did all this and almost no one forced me. And even if I told her, it would still have emerged soon, and the number of people who would have learned about it would immediately become much, much more.
We will now have to fulfill all her whims and hope that these materials will never come up.
Picking up a mobile phone from a pile of my things, I saw my open page in contact and messages sent to it with an attachment of photos and videos from a memory card.
Everything, I have no way back.
It was necessary to besiege her as soon as she entered the toilet, but at that moment I was frightened by the camera and obediently let me down