Liv Franklin pulled into her parking space and did one last check in the rearview to make sure she was presentable. Her delicate cat-eye eyeliner and light touches of makeup were flawless as usual, presenting a beautiful, confident woman in her mid-thirties. Nothing was wrong with her at all, on the outside at least.
On the inside, however, Liv had been feeling a bit mixed up since her awful, erotic experience a few weeks ago. The night when Marco De Luca, her son's best friend, had blackmailed her into giving a strip tease to all of her son's other friends. That would have been bad enough, but something worse than that had happened in the process: Liv's dangerous fetish for humiliation and exposure from her days as a stripper had resurfaced in the worst possible way. She had fucked her son's eighteen-year-old best friend in front of all his other buddies.
And she had liked it. At least in the moment. Afterward was another story of course. After Liv had a chance to get home and masturbate herself to completion under a scalding hot shower, the shame and guilt came crashing down. She had been tricked and defeated by a boy her son's age. He had gotten exactly what he wanted from a woman who should have been old and wise enough to run circles around him.
So, obviously, Liv swore that it would never happen again. She certainly wasn't an idiot. Liv knew that even entertaining a blackmailer's demands at all was risky. She had only agreed to the striptease because she was put on the spot and panicked. Marco threatened to ruin her son's life and she got tunnel vision. It wouldn't happen again.
Liv had a very simple plan to make sure of that.
She was simply going to make it impossible for Marco to talk with her. She had convinced her boyfriend Craig to drop off and pick up Elliot from school for some "male bonding time" so that Marco wouldn't be able to corner her again. She blocked his number (which they had used to set up the logistics of the strip show). She had vetoed all suggestions from Elliot for any additional sleepovers at their house.
Liv knew that little shit would try for more. It was just the sort of person Marco was. She had known dozens of men just like him, and used to date them almost exclusively in fact: untrustworthy, conniving, immature, dangerous, powerful... attractive.
Liv closed her eyes and counted to ten, brutally crushing the strange flutter in her heart of hearts. It was Vixen, the slutty little stripper she used to be, rearing her head again. She had grown out of those self-destructive urges. She was a grown woman now, in full control of herself. If Marco tried to weasel more sexual favors from her, she would shut that shit down immediately. She would rather burn her whole life to the ground than go one step further with him.
That was especially important to remind herself of... because that brief, humiliating sexual encounter had affected her in other ways as well. Sex his her boyfriend Craig was great usually. He was handsome, tall, confident, and knew how to make a woman melt in all the right ways. He was certainly in a whole other league when compared to the weazley little 18-year that had managed to trick his way into her pants. But ever since that degrading encounter with Marco, sex with Craig had felt... off. Like there was something missing. Getting humiliatingly fucked by Marco in front of all her son's friends had dredged up memories from her old stripping days... Of letting bouncers fuck her in the dressing room just to release her built-up sexual tension. Giving in to regulars in the VIP room for a fifty on the sly. Sucking off her boss in his office for a chance to headline the next evening... Compared to those filthy, shameful memories, sex with Craig felt a little vanilla.
Whatever. She had put all that behind her before, and she would do it again. But it did irk her that a worthless little nobody like Marco had managed to get under her skin, even if inadvertently.
Liv shook herself a little and got out of the car, hustling into the employee entrance of city hall. She was late again. There had been a few incidents this week where her dreams... well, simply put, she hadn't been sleeping well.
She hoped against hope that she would be able to slip in relatively unnoticed, but it seemed like she was unlucky today. As Liv entered the clerk's office, Candy the bubbly blonde secretary called her out immediately.
"Ooooooh, look who's heeeere," said the ditzy blonde in a sing-song voice from behind the desk. "I was afraid that you wouldn't be in today. That would be a real shame." Candy punctuated her cryptic statement with a giggle, her blue eyes shining with mischief. Liv's immediate reaction was suspicion. She and Candy were always professional and cordial, but they certainly didn't have a buddy-buddy relationship. Liv typically couldn't stand "popular girl" types like Candy. She had disliked girly girls ever since high school.
Why was Candy acting so chummy?
"No," said Liv carefully, "Just running a couple of minutes late, Candice. Why? Big meeting today?"
"Better than that," said Candy with a sly grin. Then, suddenly, from beneath the desk, the blonde secretary pulled a bouquet of roses, a stuffed teddy bear, and a white envelope. "That boyfriend you keep bragging about sent you flowers! So sweet!"
"Awwww! That's nice of him!" said Liv, trying her best to look happy and excited. Internally, her confusion only deepened. Craig Harrison was a wonderful man in many ways, but he wasn't exactly a romantic. Liv picked up the envelope. There was some sort of small object inside along with the card; she could feel it through the envelope.
Enough worrying and fretting. Liv ripped open the envelope with a rough, decisive motion. A small black flash drive fell out into her hand. Working on instinct, Liv immediately palmed it before Candy noticed it was there. Then she pulled out the card.
It had a floral design on the front and the message: "Missing You..." Liv impatiently flipped the card open and read the message.
"Dear V.
I'm so sad that we haven't been in touch lately. I keep thinking back on that special night together. I bet you can't stop thinking about it either. Let's get back in touch.
Love
M."
Liv had to stop herself from crumpling the card in her hand. That would just raise suspicion. At her fucking job. The little pipsqueak had actually had the balls to try to shake her down at her place of business.
If little Marco De Luca thought this kind of stunt would intimidate her or get into her pants, he was a fucking idiot.
"Must be some mistake," said Liv flatly, tossing the card down on Candy's desk. "These flowers aren't for me."
Candy's mouth formed a "o" of shock. "B-but," she protested, "The man who brought them said..."
"Take a look," said Liv firmly, nudging the card toward the baffled blonde, "It's addressed to someone with the initial V. They're not mine." Then she turned and walked away, leaving a protesting and confused Candy behind her.
Hopefully, the flowers and stuffed animal would be chalked up to a bizarre miscommunication. What was more concerning to her was the contents of the flash drive clutched in her suddenly sweaty palm.
...
Liv burned with cold fury as she paced her bedroom, occasionally casting angry glances over to her laptop. She should have known that Marco wouldn't be true to his word. She had assumed that she would be safe because she hadn't seen anyone filming, but the USB drive contained low-quality but unmistakable footage of the night she had given the strip show.
