Chapter 1

Just a few minutes earlier, Sally Williams had been reading through today's fan mail, basking in her new-found fame as an internationally acclaimed author. Now she was standing naked facing a man she had never met before and was sure he was going to fuck her. She didn't know what else he would require but she knew she had no choice but to provide whatever he wanted.

As she waited for him to give her more instructions, she thought back over how she had got herself into this awful position. She had been writing stories for years, and some had been published, mostly in local magazines, but the earnings had been poor. She had achieved enough success that she had built up the contacts that an author needs. She had her own publisher, and through him had membership of book clubs and author circles and so on.

And suddenly all that had changed. Finally one of her stories had been published and was proving to be a best seller. The only tiny problem was that she hadn't actually written the story herself. The man relaxing in her best lounge chair, sipping her husband's beer and studying her naked body, was the author, and he had come to claim his rights. Financial compensation, and now it seemed he wanted more. Sally was very aware of her husband Keith sitting on the sofa behind her making no attempt to help her.

Her 'success' had started one night nearly a year ago, after Keith went out drinking with his mates down the pub. Sally had casually opened up his computer just to see what he had been getting up to lately, expecting the normal porn that wives everywhere accepted husbands looked at. She found that Keith had been reading dirty stories on an obscure story-writing website, and had left his account still open. So Sally went in to see what sort of stories he had been reading. Mostly they were what they called "stroke" stories, all about depraved forms of sex, often pretty badly written.

But she found one story that was well written, romantic, with well developed characters and a clever plot. There was just a bit of quite tasteful sex, and she loved it. As written, the story was still quite risqué, but she downloaded it and tinkered with it, amending the heavy sex bits to make it more presentable, and still the story was great.

She suddenly realised that she could modify it a bit more then submit it to her publisher and claim she had written it herself. Surely there was no chance anyone in respectable literary circles would recognise that the story came from that sleazy internet porn site.

The writing matched her own style and the plot was not inconsistent with other stories she had submitted to her publisher over the years, this one was just much better written and the plot was much cleverer than anything she had ever devised. She had no concerns that her publisher might suspect that the story was not her own material.

So, after a bit of re-working, she sent the story off to him as a new draft, and to her delight he came back enthusiastically with an advance and a contract promising her good royalties, the best response she had ever had from him.

Actually his enthusiasm was so great that she almost chickened out and admitted that it wasn't her story. She nearly told him where she had found the original story, but by then she couldn't bear the inevitable humiliation of having to back down and admit to plagiarism. He would never trust her again. And anyway she knew in her heart that she could never write any other story any thing like as good as this one. This was her one chance to become famous. So she allowed her publisher to lead her through the evolutionary process until the book was ready for publication, and every time she heard from him or went to meetings at his office she shivered with fear that maybe he would have discovered her deception. But no, each new communication praised her more heartily for writing such a great story. And finally the book was on sale, and receiving rave reviews.

If she had only known what the future held for her, she would undoubtedly have confessed right then and walked away from the awful consequences.

They gave the book the title 'Trail Blazer'. Before she knew it, she was committed to a full book launch with signing ceremonies and reviews in all the best journals. Suddenly she had the fame she craved, and her friends were ringing her up to congratulate her on a wonderful new book. And she also had a huge advance payment, and the prospect of substantial royalties!

There was only one flaw. What she had not really considered when she submitted her story to her publisher was that out there, somewhere, was the original author!

And indeed the story's original author had been out there, and now he was in her living room. His name was Phil Stark, for whom writing was just a hobby. Over the years he had written many stories, but very few had been published. Unlike Sally, he never really tried to make a living out of writing, he was an engineer by profession and earned a comfortable living from that. He wrote in his spare time, for his own amusement, and he enjoyed writing sexually explicit stories, of the sort that were absolutely not suitable for the general public. A long time ago he had found this website that would publish anything he wanted to post, and he used various pen names to post stories of varying degrees of depravity on it.

It was some time after Trail Blazer was first published that Phil read a mention of it in a magazine. By then it had already become a bit of a classic. Even after Sally's alterations, the story had more kinky sex in it than most books available in mainstream bookshops, but evolving tastes were outrunning censorship and such stories were now seen as exciting and modern rather than depraved.

Phil read a review of Trail Blazer in a newspaper, and he realised immediately that the plot of the story was very much like a story he had written more than ten years ago. Curious, he bought the book and read it, and immediately recognised that it was not just similar. Comparing it with his original, he found that most of it was word for word the same, and he knew without a doubt that Sally Williams had copied his story. As he studied her version, he was disgusted how little effort Sally had made to hide her crime. Really all she had done was to excise the explicit sex that the original contained in order that it could get through the censors.

Phil had been very proud of the story when he first wrote it, one of his few attempts at a full length romantic novel. But back then he had lacked the contacts and the confidence and the publishing knowledge to set about getting the story published. His reward for his efforts was to see how many people downloaded his story and to receive complimentary emails from a few of them telling him how much they liked it. But most people visiting that website were after hard porn stroke stories, and not many bothered to read long romance novels. So for some time he had concentrated on writing stories that suited the more extreme tastes of the internet readers.

But now, seeing his story, only marginally modified, being published and widely praised as a great book made him feel very proud and happy. Okay, nobody knew he had been the original author, but he knew, and he was thrilled to read the gushing reviews in the press, knowing it was his book they were reviewing.

There was just one small flaw marring his pleasure. He wasn't getting the public or financial rewards. This other so-called author, Sally Williams, who had stolen his creation, was getting not just the fame he deserved but also the royalties. He decided to do something about both.

Just as they say 'Revenge is a dish best served cold', Phil took his time preparing his response. First he researched Sally's earlier published stories and articles, and realised she was not really a good writer at all. It was quite surprising that her publisher had accepted Trail Blazer as her creation.

He investigated her husband Keith, and read everything he could about their married life. There were lots of signs that Sally was the boss in their marriage, and Keith did as she told him. He suspected that she would not have told him about how she had found and stolen the text for Trail Blazer but he felt he needed to be sure of that before deciding to what extent to include Keith in Sally's impending punishment.

Phil explored the town where they lived, looking for ideas of how to progress his plans for revenge. He found a sex shop, and went in there to see what resources were available there. There was a row of video cubicles at the back of the shop, and that gave Phil a delicious idea for how things might evolve if he played things right.

He realised he couldn't just challenge the copyright. If he did so, the book would be withdrawn from the market and the income stream that was now flowing so freely would be cut off and could never be restored, to either Sally or himself. He could claim damages from Sally, but there was no sign they had owned anything of value before Trail Blazer went to print.

He decided that Sally could keep the fame, but that she needed to be punished for her crime, humiliated privately in a way that would avoid any damage to the book but which would make sure she never ever cheated again. She would have to hand over a significant share of the money she had already received, and of the future royalties. He would have sex with her, repeatedly and in ways of his choosing. And he had ideas for how to take her further into the depraved world of the 'stroke stories' that he had been writing recently.

As he finalised his plan, he was looking forward to discussing his proposals with the dishonest woman and her probably guiltless and unsuspecting husband. He worked out a plan that would punish Sally, give him much pleasure, and allow the book to remain in unchallenged publication.

And so when he had made as many preparations as possible Phil knocked on their front door. Keith Williams answered, by now used to greeting admiring readers of Sally's book who came to the door to ask for their copies to be autographed or to tell her how much they loved the book. So Keith was smiling as he asked, "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I would like to see your wife please, Sally Williams. Please tell her that George Gee is here to see her."

His pen name on the website when he published the original for Trail Blazer had been George_G, and he was hoping that Sally would remember it. And she did, and as she sat in her living room with her world collapsing, she thought she would be sick! Weak at the knees, she walked out to the front hall, where George was standing smiling innocently. "Hello Mrs Williams, I loved the story. It's still very readable after all these years, isn't it? Over ten years since I wrote it."

As he said this he was watching Keith Williams, who was standing behind his wife, and the look on Keith's face told Phil what he wanted to know. Keith had no idea that his wife had stolen the story. Well, he had already decided that if Keith didn't know then Sally would have to tell him!

"Let's go inside and discuss this, shall we Sally? I can call you Sally, I hope?" Sally cringed, she knew there was no way to save herself from this awful situation, she was about to be publicly humiliated and exposed as a fraud. She was far too shaken to protest, and meekly led Phil into her living room, where he sat down in the best armchair and casually invited Sally and Keith to sit opposite, side by side on the sofa.

"Sally, I can tell from your face that you know exactly who I am and why I am here, is that right?"

Sally had lived with the enormity of her guilt for long enough by now, and was almost relieved that the truth was finally coming out. Of course she dreaded the shame of having to confess to her adoring fans that she hadn't written Trail Blazer after all. If anything that prospect was more upsetting than the knowledge that she would have to refund the advance payment, and would not be getting the anticipated royalties. They could cope with being poor again. It was the public humiliation that she dreaded.

Phil had already decided that Sally's humiliation would not actually be public, so long as she agreed to cooperate. He wanted the book to continue to be a blockbuster, he wanted his revenge and his share of the royalties, and he wanted Sally. He sat watching her while a puzzled Keith went off to fetch him a drink. He would explain his intentions shortly but first he enjoyed watching her face as the awfulness of her situation swept over her.