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Slow Tease, Sweet Revenge 1
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Subject: Slow Tease, Sweet Revenge (Part I)
Date: Thu, 18 May 1995 17:09:15 UTC
My name is Heather. I'm a 22-year-old erotic dancer in Florida. I chose my
profession for one reason: I love to tease men. I just can't help it. Ever
since I was a young teenage girl, I used to love to wear short-shorts and tank
tops. I always loved the way boys would go crazy for me, and I especially
loved the way older men would get uncomfortable and tongue-tied around me.
Big, authoritative men acting like fools because they were turned on by a sweet
little teenage girl. It made me feel powerful... and very hot.
I remember having tickle fights with my girl friends and my brother's friends.
If I ever gained the upper hand, I showed no mercy... tickling my hapless
victims until they had tears in their eyes or peed in their pants. It was fun!
As I grew older, I used to relish going out on dates. I was a gymnast and
cheerleader throughout junior high and high school, which gave me numerous
opportunities to show off my hot bod in public - and to catch the eye of the
cute guys in school. I would always flirt with the boys, but I only went out
with the popular ones. Not so much because I wanted to be popular too, but
more because they were always used to getting what they wanted from girls and
I liked to frustrate them. I polished my kisses down to an art-form: soft,
tender lips and a gently playful tongue. Pressing a boy up against the wall
and rubbing my body against his was my favorite way to get him hot and
bothered while I made him weak with my sweet, seductive kisses.
I used to enjoy teasing my dates at movie theatres by running my fingernails
up their inner thighs and nibbling on their earlobes. At dances, I would use
the slow songs to let my dates feel me up... thinking they would be getting
some later. But it was later when I would always innocently say "no". I just
loved watching their expressions when I told them they had to wait. They would
start to sweat and stammer and act like the old men who got nervous around me
when I was younger. I enjoyed it. So much, in fact, that I never gave a
definite no. I only said we could go just so far. Well, there's nothing more
funny than a boy who is sentenced to heavy petting and nothing else. Of course
he doesn't want to stop making out, but as the foreplay continues, he starts to
go crazy. Usually, boys would get desperate to the point where they would take
it too far, and I could slap them and tell them to take me home. I became
known as a cock tease. But it didn't matter. They all still wanted me.
My theme song was "I Know What Boys Like", by the Waitresses. I can still
remember playing it on my phonograph and dancing around my bedroom with my
girlfriends: "I know what boys like. I know what boys want. I like to tease
them. Like to frustrate them."
Deep down, I felt that most boys deserved it. While I dated some nice boys,
most of the guys I knew in school thought that girls were subhuman objects of
conquest to be bragged about with their buddies. I knew more than one girl who
felt she was date-raped by at least one guy in high school. Most parents and
teachers considered this to be normal... everybody said, "Boys will be boys".
That attitude still makes me sick. Anyway, back to me...
In Junior and Senior year I entered two local beauty pageants and won. My
parents wanted me to go off to a state competition, but I refused. I had a
taste of exhibitionism on stage, but I didn't like being on display like some
show-dog. I wanted more control. I wanted something spicy. That opportunity
came when I got to college.
As a freshman at University of Miami, Florida, I was jogging on the beach every
day, doing nautilus regularly in the campus gymnasium, and teaching aerobics at
a local health club. I was looking spectacular, and the hot weather allowed me
to dress the way I like. Whenever I hit the beach, I oiled up with tanning
lotion and wore one of my sexy string bikinis. For classes, I always wore foxy
denim shorts or short miniskirts with bikini tops. When I went out on the town,
I usually would wear a little party dress and heels. I never wore stockings,
because I like to show off my strong, tanned legs.
From the very start, I had a blast. I dated a lot, and had plenty of very hot
sex. More delightfully, though, I was on a college campus, surrounded by horny,
good looking men. Showing off my body and watching my classmates drool over me
was enjoyable, and so was tricking some frat boy into a date where I teased
him all night until he limped home with blue balls. It was fun, but I still
wanted to experience more.
That's when I applied for work at a small, upscale strip-tease bar in Miami.
It was my job dancing at this bar that allowed me to hone my art - transforming
myself from a mischievous teaser into a devastating torturess.
(TO BE CONTINUED...)
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