Joanne's downfall 2: The Handyman

Joane tries to have a quiet day at her parents' house, but the blackmailer has other plans.

Joanne woke up with aching body, her mind clouded by the humiliation of the previous day. Eddie's semen still seemed to cling to her skin, despite the endless shower. She avoided thinking about Harold, who had called the previous night to talk about the wedding trousseau, oblivious to the hell she was living through. To distract herself, she decided to visit her parents that Saturday morning and told Harold, who, unaware of everything, ended up mentioning it to his friend, Charles, who already knew Joanne's family and had also been to the mansion in the past. Joanne's parents' mansion, an imposing building, had always been a haven of luxury and normalcy. But her cell phone vibrated in the car, and the nightmare returned.

"Good morning, little whore. Today you're going to seduce Jurandir, the handyman at your parents' house. That ugly 60-year-old dark-haired man you always thought was weird. Make him fuck your pussy. Record everything and send it to me." Joanne parked the car in the garage, her hands trembling on the steering wheel. Jurandir? The Latino immigrant who had worked there since she was a teenager, with sun-wrinkled, tanned skin, a face marked by years of working under the sun, crooked teeth. He was short, stocky, with calloused hands from years of fixing plumbing and painting walls. Joanne considered him almost part of the family, like a somewhat strange uncle. His smell – sweat mixed with grease and cleaning products – always repelled her. 'Please, no. Anything but this. He's like an uncle to me,' she typed, tears in her eyes, pleading for the first time, and wondering how the blackmailer could know so many details of her life.

The answer came cold: a screenshot of a draft email. Subject: 'Secrets of the perfect bride'. Attached were photos of her with Eddie – her seducing the garbage collector, the garbage collector fucking her in her bed, her face contorted in pleasure – which she was forced to feign on the blackmailer's orders. Recipients: mother, father, aunts, cousins, even Harold. 'Zero negotiation, bitch. Obey or I'll click send.' Joanne deleted the message, her stomach churning. There was no way out. Her parents greeted her with warm hugs, talking about the wedding, but she barely heard, the dread growing.

Hours later, her parents announced they needed to leave for an appointment. 'Make yourself at home, daughter. Jurandir is in the yard, fixing the fence.' Her heart raced. She waited until their car disappeared down the street, then walked to the small room at the back of the mansion – a cramped space where Jurandir slept during the week, with a simple bed, a rickety table, and piles of tools. She knocked on the door, forcing a smile. He opened the door, sweaty from the previous morning cleaning the house's bathrooms, his faded work shirt clinging to his hairy chest, his work pants stained with chemicals, his boots worn. The stench was strong: disinfectant mixed with sour sweat and something more rancid.

'Mrs. Joanne? Is something wrong?' he asked, his brown eyes widening in surprise. A woman like her, young and elegant in her flowered dress, in his room? She entered, closing the door, the stuffy air choking her. 'No, Jurandir. I... I wanted to talk. You know, seeing you working always leaves me... impressed.' The words came out awkwardly, her voice trembling. She approached, touching his arm, feeling the muscles hardened by manual labor. He blinked, confused, but a crooked smile appeared on his wrinkled face. 'Impressed? With me? Ma'am, you're the boss's daughter. What's going on?'

Joanne swallowed her disgust and leaned forward, letting her cleavage reveal the lace of her bra. 'I always thought you were strong, virile. Working so hard... it excites me.' He chuckled softly, disbelievingly, but his eyes drifted down to her breasts, and she saw the growing bulge in his pants – a thick erection forming against the worn fabric. Flushing with humiliation, she reached out and stroked his penis through his pants, feeling the heat throb. 'Let me show you how much.' Jurandir groaned, his calloused hands moving up to her waist, pulling her into a hungry kiss. His mouth was rough, his tongue invading with the taste of coffee and cigarettes, his stubble scratching her skin. The smell of a clean bathroom – old urine and bleach – overwhelmed her, making her stomach churn, but she reciprocated, feigning desire, while inside she wanted to scream.

He pressed her against him, his hard cock rubbing against her belly. "Damn, girl, you're asking to be fucked." He unbuttoned his work pants, letting them fall to his ankles, revealing his thick, dark cock, veins bulging, head swollen and sweaty. "Suck it, Joanne. Show Uncle Jurandir how you want it." She knelt on the dirty floor of the small room, the floorboards creaking, and took his cock in her hand, forcing excitement on her face. "What a beautiful cock, Jurandir. So big and hard for me." She opened her mouth and swallowed the head, her tongue licking the salty length, sucking hard while he groaned, his hands in her hair. "That's it, swallow it all, you rich little whore. Suck it like it's ice cream." She shook her head, saliva dripping, feigning moans of pleasure, but the rancid taste made her want to vomit – it was like sucking on a piece of old, smelly meat.

Excited by what was happening, Jurandir pulled her up and threw her onto the bed, the crumpled sheets smelling of sweat and musk from the nights he masturbated fantasizing about his mistresses—fantasies he never imagined would come true. He ripped off her panties, exposing her still-sensitive vagina from the previous day. "Now I'm going to fuck you slowly, my princess. A woman like you deserves to be treated with care." He positioned himself between her legs, his penis brushing against her wet entrance, and pushed slowly, stretching the walls. Joanne bit her lip, pain and disgust mixed together, as he slid inside. "What a warm pussy, Joanne. Made for me, right? I'm going to love you well, fill you with cum." The romantic, yet dirty words humiliated her—he treated her like a mistress, not like the daughter of the employers he served.

He fucked slowly at first, his hips swaying, his penis going in and out with wet sounds, his hands squeezing her breasts over her dress. 'You're so hot, better than any woman I've ever had. My cock is in paradise.' Joanne feigned a moan, her nails digging into his back, but inside she felt dirty, defiled by this ugly, old man who was far below her level. As he sped up, fucking faster, the bed banging against the wall, sweat dripping down her body. 'I'm going to cum, my beautiful bitch! Take it all!' He grunted, his cock swelling, hot jets filling her cunt, his body trembling on top. Joanne forced a smile, 'That was incredible, Jurandir,' but the semen dripping from her disgusted her.

She tried to get up quickly, putting on her panties, but he pulled her back into a long kiss, his tongue sucking hers, hands on her ass. 'Phew, I haven't had sex this good in years. My ex-wife didn't even come close to you. Come back anytime, okay?' He laughed, his eyes shining with satisfaction. Joanne nodded, leaving the small room with wobbly legs, leaving him there for a nap after sex, his erection softening on the sheets, feeling like the luckiest man in the world.

Back in the car, she texted: 'Done. I did everything.' The reply came immediately: 'Recording, now.' Panic overwhelmed her – she had completely forgotten. 'Shit, I forgot. Please, I really did it, don't punish me.' The blackmailer retorted: 'You stupid slut! You think I'm an idiot? Sleep with him again TODAY and record everything. Otherwise, the email will be sent.' Joanne cried, horrified by the idea of ​​repeating it, her body already marked by his scent.

Night fell after dinner with her parents, who commented on how distracted she seemed. 'Everything alright, daughter?' 'Yes, I'm just tired.' When they went to bed, she pretended to leave and slipped out into the backyard. Jurandir was still awake, smelling even more now – sweat from an entire afternoon fixing the garden, dirt mixed with his body odor. He opened the door to the small room with a wide smile. 'Again, Joanne? You must be crazy about me, huh?' She nodded, entering and discreetly hiding her cell phone on the shelf while he closed the door, activating the recording. 'I can't wait, Jurandir. Fuck me again.'

He grabbed her urgently, kissing her neck, his hands groping her body and pulling off her dress. 'My rich little whore. I'll give you what you want.' He lowered his pants, his cock already hard and dirty from the day, and sat her on the bed. She quickly sucked him, licking his hairy balls at his request, feigning enthusiasm with loud moans. 'That's delicious, your cock is addictive.' He groaned, fucking her mouth for minutes before turning her over. 'Now on all fours, bitch. Show that ass to your man.' He spat in his hand, lubricating it, and thrust his cock into her cunt, fucking her hard, his hips slamming against her flesh. 'Take this handyman's cock, you slut. I'm going to fill you up again.'

Joanne clung to the sheets, her body swaying, her cunt burning from the friction. He sped up, grunting romantic obscenities: 'You're mine now, Joanne. Better than any dream.' He came deep, his cum gushing out, his body collapsing on top of her. 'Stay all night, my love. We'll fuck some more.' She made up an excuse: 'My parents might wake up. I'll come back another day.' She snuck out, running to her car, sending the trembling video.

The blackmailer replied: 'Good girl. You're great at seducing old perverts. What a delight to see this ugly cock fucking you. More messages soon. Keep being an obedient whore.' Joanne drove home in tears, her body aching and dirty again. Jurandir fell asleep convinced that his employers' daughter was in love with him, dreaming of more sex. Far away, Charles watched the video in the darkness of his room, his penis in hand, ejaculating while watching Joanne falsely moan under the handyman. He chuckled softly, already planning his next move. Her humiliation was his addiction, and the wedding was approaching like a ticking time bomb.