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After leaving Matt's place that night, she made her way back home and sat on her porch watching his house carefully. Shivering from the chilly pre dawn air, she thought about the bizarre twist events had taken as she twisted the bustier in her hands. There were still lights on over there, upstairs and down. The sex she had expected, but the beating... Then the revelation about why his wife had left him, his emotional outburst... those things she had not been prepared for.

She could feel his cum on her thighs, cold and mostly unwelcome.

The light went out in the upstairs window, and though she sat there and watched for another half-hour, they stayed on downstairs. Good, that meant he'd screwed up. She'd left the backdoor unlocked, and it didn't appear that he'd bothered to go downstairs and check. When he went out during the day, he almost always used the front door. That gave her a chance to get out of this situation.

Chilled, she let herself into her own front door, and went upstairs. She took off the loose dress and the garter belt with the stockings, wincing as she moved the sore flesh of her lower back and buttocks. Looking in the mirror, she saw the still livid welts that would be bruises before long. Matt had been vicious, more than she could have expected of him. Of course, she hadn't expected him to beat her when she'd gone over a few hours before. But then, before he had shown up a few days ago with that photograph, she hadn't known him very well.

She slipped her nightgown over her head, stuffed the bustier, garter belt and stockings deep into the hamper. She told herself that she really needed to get rid of them.

Moving as quietly as she could, she padded to her bedroom and slipped into the bed next to her husband. He rolled over, put his arm around her waist and snuggled in, spooning. She forced herself not to react as he pressed his body against her aching back.

"You're cold," he whispered. "Everything okay with Jane and her kids?" he asked, reminding her of the lie she had had to tell him.

"They're fine, everyone's okay," she told him. "The baby has colic, that's all. In fact," she couldn't believe how easily the story came to her, "Jane was so embarrassed at getting me out of bed in the middle of the night that she made me promise not to tell her husband."

"Really?" He chuckled softly.

"Yes, poor thing. She's so frazzled these days. Don't tell him about it, okay? She'd just feel awful."

"No problem." He was drifting off again, she could tell. She lay there in his arms, amazed at what was happening inside her. She was being blackmailed by her neighbor; she was at his beck and call for sexual favours. While she hated what he was doing to her, the beating tonight being not the worst of it, some growing part of her liked it.

She turned that thought over in her mind... "The beating not the worst of it?" What did that mean? The physical pain she had experienced that night was bad, humiliating, but this control that Matt was exerting over her... that could just be worse. And she had just lied to her husband for the second time in one night.

Here was this man, certainly good looking enough, who wanted her. Who wanted her enough to stoop to blackmail and threats? Her husband was a good man, a provider, and a good father to their daughter. But he was hardly her lover anymore. Oh, there was love there, certainly, but the passion had died long ago. When they did make love, it was simple, straightforward, and more sex than making love. She'd craved more for a very long time, but she knew her husband, and knew that he wasn't going to change.

That's why she had turned to the contractor, Tom, that day. Her first slip in nearly ten years of marriage... And she had opened herself up to this. To Matt and his god-damned camera.

But if he didn't check his backdoor when he went out later that day... there was hope.

She lay in the circle of her husband's arms, contemplating her freedom as she drifted off to sleep.

----

The alarm went off at 7:00 as usual, and even though she hadn't gotten very much sleep, Susan leapt out of bed. She had a plan. She knew how to get out of this situation.

"You seem happy this morning," Jim commented after his shower, as she bustled about the bedroom, making the bed and laying out her clothes for the day.

"Thank you, hon, I feel really good today!"

And she did, aside from the pain still in her back. He slipped his arms around her from behind and again she had to do her best not to flinch as he touched the bruises. There was no way she could explain them away. One maybe, she could say she fell last night. But there were five of them, laddered down to her buttocks.

"I'm glad," he said, nuzzling her ear, "You've seemed so tense the last few days."

She smiled, thinking that soon that particular tension would be gone for good. Patting his hands, she said, "I have to get Lindsay up."

"Okay, love." He kissed her on the cheek and let her go. She left the room and he got dressed.

Breakfast was hurried as usual, then she saw them both off. Jim drove Lindsay to school each day, father- daughter time. They didn't get much of that, with the hours that Jim worked.

Alone, she went back upstairs to dress. Then she made herself another cup of coffee, and settled down by the window to wait. She had a clear view of Matt's house. She couldn't see the front door, but the car in the driveway and the back door were both in plain view. When he left, she would know. And she'd know if he used the back door, she hoped it was still unlocked from last night.

"Let him forget about that," she prayed. He'd been drinking, there was a chance. But she didn't know how much of one.

An hour and a half later she saw him get into his car and leave. She forced herself to wait ten minutes, and she headed over.

Her heart in her throat, she put her hand on the doorknob, and turned it. YES! She had been right, he had forgotten to check the door! She slipped inside, her heart pounding. She stood in the hall, thinking. Where would he keep the pictures? Would the negatives be in the same place?

Upstairs. In the bedroom. She would have bet her life that's where they were. But then, she nearly was betting her life, at least the life she had with her family. She didn't want to go up there, not after what had happened last night. Steeling herself, she went anyway.

Susan knew she had to hurry. Matt had lost his job a couple of months ago, so there was no way for her to know how long he would be gone.

Halfway up the stairs, the phone rang, scaring her half to death. She grabbed onto the railing to steady herself, she could hardly hear for the blood pounding in her ears. Calming down, she heard the answering machine picking up in the living room. She went back to the foot of the stairs, and listened to the incoming message.

"Good morning Mr. Hildebrand. This is Karen calling from the law offices of Michaels and Bains. We have some papers here for you to sign regarding your wife's alimony. I believe we had some questions for you from her lawyer also. Oh yes- and I have a note here about a package you wanted us to hold for you. It's an unusual request, but I believe we can accommodate you. Please call us back as soon as you can..."

She stopped listening and headed back up the stairs. Turning into the bedroom, again she was hit with the stuffy air, the smell of dirty clothes and old wine, now mingled with a whiff of stale sweat, and sex. She looked around, considering. The room looked worse in daylight than it had last night. She opened the dresser and searched through the drawers, nothing. The bedside table, the closet, under the bed, no joy.

There was a sound-- from outside? She froze, listening with every fiber of her. What would she say, what could she do if he came home? But the noise didn't come again, and slowly she relaxed a little.

She started digging through the closet again, maybe she'd missed something? Then she stopped, thinking, running over in her mind what she knew about Matt. Then she walked over to the bed and after a moment's hesitation, lifted the pillow.

There it was. A plastic envelope, the kind pictures come in now. Her hand shook as she reached for it. She flipped it open, and saw that they were indeed the pictures of her with the contractor. It looked like a full roll. And the negatives were there! She breathed a sigh of relief, she had them at last!

But she couldn't linger. She replaced the pillow and fairly fled the house, making sure to lock the door behind her. Just in case. Didn't want him to discover his lapse before she could confront him with it.

She walked across his yard into hers, stuffing the envelope into her blouse. When she was nearly at her front steps, she heard a car. She turned to see Matt's car turn into his driveway.

Susan felt her heart pounding again. There was no reason for him to suspect she had been in the house, but the adrenaline still flooded her. It was all she could do to act casually, kneeling down to dead head some mums. She wanted to run into her house and bolt the door, not be out here in the open, but she couldn't, she didn't dare.

He got out of the car and called, "Hi," with a friendly wave. She stood, looked over at him, and then turned and with measured steps, walked inside. She thought she could hear his laughter following her.

Closing the door behind her, she leaned back against it, breathing deeply, shaking a little. That had really been too close. Another minute, and she would have been caught. But she'd done it! Without the pictures, it was his word against hers, and there was no way, none, that Jim would believe Matt over her.

She felt empowered, like she could take on the world. But she didn't need to. Just one neighbor.

She decided that she would act tonight, once her family was asleep. It would be a long day...

----

A very long day indeed.

But it was over now. The dinner dishes were clean, Lindsay's homework finished, and she had been asleep for hours. Jim had just put the light out after they had read for a little while. The same as usual. Everything the same as the night before. Except that she was waiting for her husband to fall asleep. Waiting for her chance to go to Matt and declare his hold on her broken.

Jim snuggled up to her, fitting his body to hers from behind as she lay on her side, one hand cupping her breast. He started to nuzzle at her neck as he caressed her nipple through her nightgown.

She recognized the gentle overtures for what they were and considered feigning sleep. How could she give her husband the attention he deserved tonight?

His hand moved up from her breast to stroke her cheek and then to turn her face to his. He kissed her, sweet and gentle, and she knew she wouldn't refuse him. She rarely did, as he didn't often make the first move. Kissing him back, she could feel him growing hard against her buttocks.

Susan shifted onto her back, and his hand traveled over her, back down to her breasts, and then down further. He reached up under her nightgown to her sex. She raised her hips and pulled the nightgown up over her hips, to give him free access.

He opened her pussy lips, letting his fingers move around her clit, and then he slipped a finger into her. She stiffened, this was the first thing Matt had done to her, but Jim took her reaction as pleasure and continued to play with her.

With an effort, she pushed the vivid memory aside. It taunted her though, from a corner of her mind.

She kissed him back, and moved her hand to stroke him. They both knew what the other liked. They should, having been married for going on ten years.

Then why did she find herself craving a firmer hand? A rougher touch?

He climbed on top of her and eased himself into her waiting sex. So loving, so gentle, so... boring. NO! How could these unwanted thoughts keep running through her mind? She loved him. He was her husband!

She tried again to push these thoughts away, willing her uncooperative body to respond to her husband the way it responded to Matt.

Jim kissed her as he moved inside her, his pace picking up. She moved under him, raising her hips to meet him, knowing that it wouldn't be much longer before he came. He was silent, as ever; the only sound from him was his breathing.

With a small grunt, he thrust hard, once, twice, three times. She felt his cum fill her, and she arched against him with a moan. Still absorbed in his own orgasm, he took her reaction to be her own climax. He relaxed on top of her, and kissed her one more time before pulling out and rolling off of her, leaving a wet smear across her thigh. He draped a sleepy arm over her, and said, "Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night," she rolled back onto her side, facing away from him. She listened to him, to his breathing. He was asleep in a few minutes.

She watched the clock on the bedside table.

Five minutes.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Sure he was fast asleep, she carefully slipped out from under his arm and out of the bed. In the bathroom, she washed herself, and pulled out the clothes she had hidden in the linen closet earlier that day. She quickly pulled on the baggy jeans, turtleneck and the old sweater.

She checked on Lindsay, and then headed out.

Crossing over to his yard quickly, she went to Matt's back door.

Feeling the thrill of empowerment again, she knocked. She wanted to pound on the door, to batter it down. There was music coming from inside the house, jazz, she thought. She could also see that the TV was on.

She waited. There was no reply, she couldn't see him coming down the hall. She knocked again, harder, and heard the music stop, saw the light from the TV go off. He came to the door, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

He opened the door, and just looked at her for a long moment. She knew he was trying to make her uncomfortable, but she held her ground, met his eyes, and waited for him to speak.

"Susan, I didn't call you." He chuckled. "Just can't stay way, huh?" he asked with a smirk.

She'd had enough of this. She pushed past him and walked into the living room. There was a symmetry to this, she realized. He had done the same thing in her house, when this had started a few days ago. He closed the door and followed her, bemused, as she shoved the thought away.

She turned to face him, shoulders back, head held high.

"It's over," she told him without reamble. "It's done. You can't hold those pictures over me anymore."

He looked at her. "What do you mean? You've decided you can live without your husband? Your daughter?"

"No." She drew herself up to her full, if slight, height. "I found your pictures. And the negatives." She allowed herself a smug smile at the look of surprise that crossed his face, and couldn't resist taunting him, "You're not very good at hiding things, are you?"

"What do you mean?" He frowned. "How did you get in?"

"That doesn't matter. I have some secrets you don't know."

Still standing by the door, she watched him, wondering why he wasn't more upset. She'd just claimed her freedom, declared his hold on her broken, and he just stood there. Susan didn't understand, things weren't going like she had thought they would. Then again... she hadn't really known what to expect.

"So you come into my house," he chuckled softly. "You little whore."

Shaking his head, he walked past her and sat down on the couch. "You have the goods, now you want to end it?"

"That's why I'm here, yes."

"Are you sure about this?"

"I've done my penance. It's over." She walked back to the door. This was too easy... "Good bye, Matt."

"I wouldn't go if I were you, Susan," he said in a calm, cold voice, "Stay for a few more minutes."

He picked up a remote control from the coffee table.

Her hand on the doorknob, she stopped. "I'm not going to believe you if you say you have more pictures," she said, not turning around. "Tom and I weren't outside that long."

Matt hit play on the remote.

Her voice came over the sound system.

"I'm here because you called. Because you want me." A pause. "And because I want you too."

"Oh no," she whispered, frozen in place.

"Susan, turn around." He turned the sound off again. "I'm very disappointed in you."

She leaned her head against the door frame.

"After last night I was thinking..." he continued, "You were kind to me..."

Slowly she turned around too look at him, silent, eyes wide.

"I was going to let it end. I actually felt guilty, after the things I did to you..." She sagged against the door, wincing as her still sore back pressed against the wood. "That you could be kind to me..." He jumped up from the couch, and stalked towards her. "But then you do this?!" He loomed over her, threateningly, but she refused to flinch. What the hell did she have to lose by standing up to him at this point?

"What did you expect me to do? Just continue to be your sex slave?" She was angry, not in the least afraid of him in this moment. Last night she had seen him in a moment of weakness, and she felt that gave her an advantage. The thought that it might make him more dangerous didn't cross her mind. "To allow you to continue to call me at all hours? Threaten to take my life away?"

"You came into my house, MY house, and went through my things!"

"YOU gave me the means to do it!" She poked a finger at his chest

That stopped him. "I what?"

"Yes. You left your door unlocked." She snorted. "You were lucky. You could have been robbed blind. All I did was take some pictures."

"Damn," he muttered, turning away, "I need to slow down on my drinking."

"Maybe if you'd cut it out entirely, you could pull your life back together."

"I don't need a lecture on temperance from you," he said, walking back to the couch and sitting down again. "And while you did take my second most prized possessions-"

"Ill- gotten," she interrupted.

"You missed my pride and joy."

"Apparently," she sighed.

He turned up the volume and the sound of her screams as he beat her filled the room. If he turned it much higher, the neighbors might hear, her husband might hear!

"So." He let the volume rise a little more, and then there was silence when he hit the mute button. He turned back to look at her. She stood there in the hall, head down. Her shoulders, held so proudly when she came in, slumped in defeat. The victory she sought turned to ashes.

"You didn't know I was going to let you go," he told her, walking over to her again, "So I will forgive the intrusion."

She waited for the other shoe to drop, knowing there would be one... and a fleeting though of arson crossed her mind.

"But this does change the picture," he went on, reaching out to stroke her face. "Susan, I like you, I don't want to lose you. Yet."

Pushing away from the wall with a deep breath, she looked at him. "Now what?"

He turned and walked back into the living room.

"Strip," he said casually, as he sat back down on the couch, pushing the coffee table away with his foot. "You look awfully stuffy in that outfit."

"Strip?" She followed him out of the hall, but stopped just inside the room.

The sound clicked on again, her moans as she approached orgasm filled the air. She shook, with fear and with impotent anger, and said, "Fine. Just turn that down."

He clicked the sound off again. "Yes.... show me that lovely body again."

She stood there in the other side of the room, and shrugged off her jacket. He motioned her closer, and glared at her when she didn't move. Dropping her jacket, she sighed and moved to stand closer, a few feet away from him. He grinned at her.

Moving stiffly she pulled her sweater and turtleneck up over her head and dropped them to the floor. There was nothing sexual about her movements as she kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned her jeans. She pushed them down her legs. He frowned at her. "Susan. I know you can do better than that."
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