Alex called in sick to work. She still had the lingering sense that some of the semen of the men in the theatre was covering her. Every time Mike looked at her, she winced, feeling guilty for not telling him about the blackmailer. She feared what it would do to him, and her family was the only thing that this treatment was worth. Alex would wait until Mike had headed in to the hospital before leaving bed. She added a bit of liquor to her coffee that morning. There was a nagging sense that something was going to happen today.
Alex decided not to wait for it. It was time she took the initiative. The day would be sent running from one errand to another, as she sought to eliminate the threat of the blackmailer from her life. Everything she could do to keep him from contacting her again was done that day. Alex figured that if she was simply making his job harder, than the chance he would leave her alone would get to be better. At one, the security company arrived at her house and installed the security system. At two, the electrician showed up to install flood lights at all the peaks of her house. Once the workers and technicians were gone, Alex curled into the arm of the sofa, a hot cup of tea in her hand. In the pocket of her bathrobe sat the first purchase of the day- an unregistered .22 caliber two shot pistol.
Sometime, somewhere, Alex's mind had latched on to the idea that the only way to stop the blackmail was to kill him. She tried avoiding the idea, but one second in sixty, it would creep back into her head. The stiff cold barrel pressed through the material into her thigh, reassuring her that she would never hear from the blackmailer again, and if she did, she would be ready.
The alarm would blare noisily from the hallway hours later. Alex had fallen asleep on the couch, and she jumped from her seat, her hand already diving into the pocket of the bathrobe. As she ran toward the door, she heard Mike's voice yelling. Her hand immediately released the little pistol as she pushed past him to hammer in the security code to turn off the alarm.
Mike was less than happy with her for the alarm system. He yelled for a while, until she broke down crying and lied, telling him that some guy had tried getting in through the back door of the house that morning after everyone had left. Immediately the angry man calmed, guilt filling him, for mistreating his wife after such a trying morning. Crime rates had been on the rise all over the country and he had contemplated buying a security system. Mike would hold his wife in the entryway, his arms keeping her pinned against his strong chest. Over and over he would apologize again and again, hoping that she would forgive his quick rush to judgment. His feelings of guilt only magnified as Alex profusely apologized to him for the installation and not informing him. He was the one who had overreacted and not been there when she needed him. He would retire to his study, chewing himself out for the rest of the evening.
Alex also retired. Her guilt was multiplied by the fact that Mike was feeling guilty. She had no idea how she could make this up to him and so she went to bed early, yelling into the emptiness of the house that she was still not feeling well and wanted to sleep. It would take her hours to fall asleep, memories of the past few weeks chasing through her head, and thoughts about the last days occurrences eating away at her. She did not move when she felt Mike slide into bed beside her. Her conscience was nearing breaking point as she watched the digital colon on her alarm clock flash over and over again. Eventually exhaustion would win out, and Alex would slip into the warm embrace of sleep.
As days went by, peace and quiet began to reappear in Alex's life. She and her husband were beginning to be able to approach and converse semi-normally again. Both of them harbored their feelings of guilt and it was the only barrier existing between them. Day after day would slip by, with no new contact from the blackmailer, until Alex was sure that her extra measures had proved effective. Once again, the blackmailer would prove her wrong.
Mike had been called in late on Friday night because of an allergic reaction one of his patients had to a medication. He did not expect to be home till Saturday afternoon. Even if the girl recovered, which was likely, there would need to be a lot of explaining on his part about how and why he had prescribed that particular med. If his explanation was good enough, there would be no lawsuit. If it was bad, the parents would seek to profit from the uncontrollable circumstance. It was one of the many stresses of being a physician and a pediatrician.
Alex had slept in till late in the day. When she finally did wake, she took some time to savor the warmth beneath her sheets. Stretching, she would push herself from bed and pad naked down the hall to the bathroom. She enjoyed being alone in the house on occasion and the complete freedom that it allowed her. That feeling of freedom collapsed around her as she saw the manila envelope sitting in the frame of the mirror. All of the repressed feelings of fear, guilt, nervousness, and helplessness came rushing back to her in that simple orange piece of folded paper. This note was longer than the rest and more taunting. He had wanted her to feel safe and then he had wanted to take it away from her.
"Thought I was gone, huh? Don't forget that I am always watching, always with you. I hope you don't try any more nonsense. I can keep playing my game, but you have too much to lose to be fighting me. Now that we have that out of the way, my next request. There is a burlesque club you and Mike will be attending at your insistence this evening. You both have seemed stressed lately and it is time to relax a little. I will have only three requirements: Number one, wear the outfit I have left for you in your car. Two, you pay for at least three dances. Two for your husband and one for you. If you would like to stay longer, so be it. The third requirement is that you perform for Mike. Don't worry- it need not be on the stage. This particular club has small private booths which will suffice. Use booth number five. It will be reserved for you. Have fun, and remember to put on a good show. I will be watching."
It would be another hour before Alex brought herself to retrieve the outfit. The door to her car was still locked and there was no sign of forced entry. But as promised the clothing sat in a neatly folded pile on her seat. She went inside and up to her room. There she examined the required articles and began to try them on. Two things would disturb Alex as she stood in front of the full length mirror. The first was how well the clothing fit; the second was how attractive she looked in them. The blackmailer had chosen an outfit that hinted at what she would term smutty professional. He had chosen a pair of long black stockings, a matching garter belt, lacy thong, and bra. Alex had taken a moment to vainly appreciate her figure in the mirror as she stood dressed only in the under clothing.
The bra pressed her breasts up and together, emphasizing their ample curve and the deep shadow of her cleavage. The thong looked especially good against the pale roundness of her ass and the garter belt and stockings simply finished the set. The skirt was a heavily textured tweed material that was shorter, but thick enough to tone down the heavy emphasis placed on her figure. It still hinted at a firm ass, but it did not give it away as the underwear had. The top was a simple white blouse, cut to fit perfectly to her form. Here the emphasis was clearly on her breasts, and the black bra stood out in contrast to the material. Alex pulled her hair into a bun on her head and studied the gorgeous woman staring back in the mirror. It had been a long time since Alex had last dressed in a way that this emphasized her beauty and she found herself pleased by it. For a few minutes, spinning in the mirror, playfully bending at the waist, and running her hands over her clothing, Alex was able to escape the next task put before her. That would change when Mike got home.
She could tell the moment she stepped downstairs that it had been a tough day. But to her surprise, that look vanished as he caught sight of her, and she was actually able to recognize his dick jumping to attention in the front of his business slacks. Alex had figured that the only way to get away without an explanation was to make it seem like her idea. Which meant she had to get into the character her clothes represented. She sidled up to her husband, hips swaying, hands resting on them. His eyes just got bigger and bigger the closer she got. He obviously enjoyed the blouse and the stark contrast of the black bra beneath it. Once she was within reach, he crushed her body to his and began kissing over her face and neck and collarbone. Alex fought to regain control of the situation. She wanted to keep this moving, hoping to make it all a blur in her mind and his. She pushed back off of her husband and told him that they were going out. The couple would turn right back around and she would tow him down to her car, not giving him a moment to recover.
Mike tried quizzing her as she drove to the club, but she gave away no details and tried to pretend like this was of her doing. Inside her stomach churned nervously. She and Mike had never broached the subject of going to a strip club and she wondered how he would react. What happened if he was really into it with the dancers and she was crushed? How would she feel? What would it be like when it was all over? Those questions were soon to be answered.