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Slow Tease, Sweet Revenge 3
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 III)
Date: Thu, 18 May 1995 17:12:33 UTC
The creep's name is Bob, and he's one of those playboy types who drives a
Porsche, works out constantly, and wears his shirts open to show off his gold
chain. He's actually extremely handsome with a great bod, but his attitude is
the ultimate turnoff. He's obnoxious and conceited and he thinks that every
woman should fall at his feet. Actually, he's like all those popular boys from
high school magnified into one big asshole.
He always showed up at the beginning of my shift and asked for a private dance.
Whenever I had him alone, he would constantly ask me to go home with him and
let him "fuck my brains out". After I turned down his charming invitation, he
would always try to grab my tits or stick his hand between my legs. It got so
bad one night that Steve had to throw him out. From that point on, Bob was
banned from the club.
One night the following week, when Steve was walking me to my car, Bob walked
up to us. He was extremely drunk, and he was carrying a bottle of beer. He
slurred "Hi, Heather, why don't you come over to my place and let me fuck your
brains out". Steve told him to back off but Bob just screamed "Mind your own
fucking business", and threw his beer bottle in Steve's face. Well, you don't
have to guess what happened next! Steve beat the daylights out of Bob and I
called the police. Neither Steve nor I pressed charges, but Bob was thrown in
jail for public drunkenness. I'm sure when he woke up in the cell the next
morning in pain from the beating and the hangover, only to be slapped with a
fine, he was not a happy camper.
Unfortunately, Steve and I had no idea how crazy Bob would get. When I got a
call from the hospital the next night telling me that Steve was stabbed outside
the club after it closed, I felt numb. I rushed down to see him; he had been
stabbed in the back. He was conscious enough to talk for a while, and he told
me that he never saw the attacker. Steve's right kidney had been punctured.
Bob was taken in for questioning but was released on lack of evidence. At
first, I didn't know what to do. I had one of the other bouncers escort me to
my car for two weeks. The entire time, my fury for Bob grew and grew. I wanted
revenge, but didn't know what to do. Violence was out of the question for me
and I certainly wasn't about to go out and hire someone. I was legally
helpless to do anything to Bob. Then one afternoon when I was tanning on the
beach, someone walked up and stood over my blanket. It was Bob.
He was visibly erect through his shorts and he looked very nervous. He asked me
how I was and told me he missed me. I told him to get lost, but instead, he sat
down on my towel. "I want you so much Heather", he said. "I can't stand it any
longer". I told him to get the fuck away from me, but he went on.
"You've got the most perfect body. You're the most gorgeous woman I've ever
seen. You drive me nuts! I can return the favor and drive you nuts if you'd
only give me the chance. If you had any idea how good I am in bed..."
That was it. I got up and ran into the water. He followed. I ran back out and
grabbed my towel. "Please", I said, "Just leave me alone." He stared at my wet
tits and let out a tiny whimper. "Come on babe, just let me have you once,
okay?"
"No!", I yelled and began to run away. He ran after me and tackled me in the
sand. As I fought him, he tore off my bikini top. He was strong and was able
to wrestle himself on top of me. He started to hump me and he squeezed my tits
really hard and I screamed. When two lifeguards came to pull Bob off of me,
there was semen dripping from his shorts and some on my leg. The bastard came
on me!
I just ran away as Bob became the victim of another beating. I didn't want to
have to deal with the cops again. I just wanted to get away from that pig! I
got home and cried and cried. I thought that this must be my punishment for
being a cock-tease all these years. But all thoughts were washed away by the
knowledge that Bob had... NOBODY had... a right to do this to a woman. Not to
mention the fact that he stabbed Steve! Then I started to think how stupid I
was to not wait for the cops to come to the scene so I could press charges.
I cried some more.
When I calmed down, I called Marie, a good friend I made while dancing at the
club. Marie is a very hot little 23-year-old brunette. She is a yoga fanatic
and a ballet dancer. She is also one of those dancers who dances for the sheer
pleasure of it... she is bisexual and loves to be around other beautiful women.
Not only is Marie gorgeous, but she is very warm and very intelligent, and I
often turn to her for advice.
When I told her what happened, she was naturally outraged. She told me not to
go to the police because they would only let Bob go again. Instead, she said
that I should get even with him one-on-one. "I know how you like to toy with
men", she said. "Your body is your most powerful weapon. Don't you think you
should use it against Bob?"
I vaguely understood what she was driving at, but I told her that I wanted to
really hurt him - I wasn't interested in sexually arousing him. Marie then
asked me if I would let her help me out in executing the ultimate revenge plot.
I said that it depended on what she had in mind.
Marie was born in France to a French father and Chinese mother. Her father
left her mother and took Marie with him to the U.S. when she was five. Because
of her early separation from her mother, she always felt alienated from her
Oriental roots. To make up for it, she would spend hours in the library reading
up on Chinese culture. "Chinese philosophy is much more subtle than Western
philosophy", she told me. "In the West, if someone crosses you, your typical
reaction might be to 'blow them away', Rambo style. To an Easterner, this is
too direct. We believe that revenge should be a long and lingering affair that
is to be savored by the person who is doing the punishing. That is why our
culture has devised some of the slowest, most exquisite tortures."
Well, she definitely had my attention.
"When you tease a man, it is similar to the Chinese water torture, where the
victim is tied down... slightly upside-down, with water gently dripping on
his forhead. As the minutes turn into hours and the hours turn into days, he
grows thristy and screams for water, while his torturers drink cold fresh
water in front of him. Before he dies, the victim is completely mad and in
absolute agony, teased by the gentle drip of cool water on his forehead, while
his throat remains parched and cracked. I think we should do something similar
to Bob, don't you?"
My mind was racing. "Yes", was all I said. We talked on the phone for over
two hours, fantasizing about what we would do to Bob. Marie certainly had a
wicked mind, and as we talked I masturbated. Finally, I begged her to come
over. "I thought you'd never ask!", she said. She came to my apartment, and
we made sweet love all night long. My first bisexual experience remains one of
the greatest nights of my life. The taste of Marie's sweet pussy drove me wild.
It still does.
(TO BE CONTINUED...)
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