This is part 2 of this story. You should read Part 1 to understand the events here. This story contains voyeurism, non-con and blackmail. If you don't care for those things, please continue your search for a more desirable tale. Constructive comments are always welcome.
Marcie's story.
I couldn't believe what I had seen. My fucking neighbor Brad had intruded into my most personal life and filmed me having sex in my bedroom. I guess that is what rape feels like emotionally. Totally violated. Totally helpless. Totally angry.
It only took a moment after seeing the awful scenes of my sexual romps with Rob to realize what would happen. There was no excuse, no alibi and no denial. I was guilty of cheating on my husband, regardless of his frigidity. It would destroy my marriage. It would have me thrown out of the church. It would alienate all of my lifelong friends. It would stoke hours of giddy laughter as the women I had taught about trust saw me for the hypocrite I was. It would destroy my entire life.
I sobbed on the couch for quite a while. Each time the sobs slowed, I thought of a new possible shame and started again. At some point I realized that SOB Brad was still sitting on my couch. I sat up, screamed at him and tried to hit him with my fists. My anger had no bounds. He easily deflected my blows and tried to tell me to calm down. "It doesn't have to be so bad." He shouted over my cries. Sure, the greatest shame and embarrassment of my life wouldn't be so bad. Fucker!
"Nobody has to know" he shouted. I stopped moving and screaming - and breathing. "This doesn't have to go public. You can keep your secret lover and your reputation. We can make a deal."
My spiraling slide into a whirlpool of despair suddenly stopped. I was still very deep, but there was a light up above. It took a moment to process what his words meant. Was there hope? Is my life not over? My anger at him quickly switched to hope. He was now the potential savior who could deliver me from the valley of death. The speed of the change in my emotions was staggering. Infinite hatred one second, infinite hope the next. I just sat there in shock and waited for his explanation.
He took a deep breath and started his prepared speech. "I created this video with several goals in mind. I had seen your ongoing affair with Rob, but figured it wasn't my responsibility to blow the whistle. But if I did, I would need absolute proof of your transgressions since everyone in this town would believe your denial and I would be driven out of town on a rail. But then I saw and heard Alex's sermons and your classes on trust and was angered by your hypocrisy. Your bragging about the quality of trust between you and your husband was horrible. And when Rob's wife asked you in class about her husband's late night walks, you blew her off. That's when I decided to do this." He paused to let all of that sink in.
His accusations pierced deep into my heart. I knew he was right. I tried to think of a defense for my actions - but couldn't find any. I was an adulterer. I was a liar. I was a hypocrite. I was a sinner many times over. My despair from facing that reality about myself was almost as painful as the fear of the video going public. I started to cry again. The river supplying my tears seemed limitless.
I've read stories about how soldiers can be horribly tortured for months and have their spirit broken. I had received all of my torture in less than an hour, but I was completely broken. It was like my life had ended and I was lost in a void, unable to think. I needed support, so I leaned forward and hugged Brad. He was completely surprised, but gently put his arms around me and held me. I guess the Stockholm Syndrome is real. I can never explain my emotions that afternoon.
I slowly pulled myself together, went to the bathroom to relieve myself and clean up my face. Brad was waiting patiently on the couch. He seemed to be uncertain of himself. He gave a weak smile as I returned to the couch.
"Please Brad, tell me how I can get out of this situation. I am truly sorry for my actions. You were right about all of them. I don't know if I can ever forgive myself. But your video would destroy my life if it went public. Please tell me you haven't sent it anywhere yet."
He seemed to gather his strength and steel himself to perform an unpleasant task. "Marcie, the video has gone nowhere else, although I have backup copies of it. And I can keep it that way, and eventually destroy all copies, if you will do what I ask." He paused as if he was uncertain to continue. I couldn't imagine what this non-descript neighbor could want from me. Mow his lawn for him?
"Marcie, I have been single for many years. I haven't dated much since I still carry some baggage from my horrible marriage. That means that I haven't had sex with a woman in a very long time ..."
No! It couldn't be! After criticizing me for cheating, he was going to ask me to cheat some more - with him!
He took a deep breath, looked like he was in pain, and continued: "You are a very attractive woman and I want to have sex with you regularly for a while."
There it was. In the open. He wants to fuck me. And he wants to do it more than once. I was angry and insulted, but stifled any visible reaction. That was the deal he offered. I could fuck him a few times and be free, or have my entire life destroyed. He knew I would have no real choice. That's why he made that video. To bargain for sex. I was insulted, but also flattered that he had done all of this because he wanted to fuck me.
I struggled to speak. "You mean you are blackmailing me to get sex? What kind of man are you?"