A Woman's Wrath Ch. 04

Saturday morning Devon was right on time. Pete couldn't blame him; he would have been there on the dot too if he thought he was going to get another piece of Susan. If the man had been able to see Susan this morning he would have been parked across the street a couple hours early. Pete and Susan were watching from the living room, through the gauzy drapes. They knew it was easy to see out but impossible to see inside on a bright, sunny day like this, particularly if you didn't crowd up to the window but stood back in the shadows of the living room.

Susan punched the garage door opener just as Devon drove into the driveway, allowing him to pull into the empty space where Pete's car was usually parked. Pete had driven the car around the corner to the big Safeway store and parked there. While Pete hurried upstairs to wait in his den, Susan hurried into the kitchen to let Devon in through the door leading into the garage.

By the time Devon was climbing out of his car Susan was standing in the kitchen doorway, brightly backlit by the sunshine streaming through the sliding glass doors.

She and Pete had planned carefully. They agreed it was important catching Devon's attention immediately and keeping him from thinking of anything but sex. Susan was wearing a thin pink summer frock which fit loosely and was thin enough to clearly show her lovely shape with the light behind her. It was clear her seductively shaped breasts were braless and her black French-cut panties were plainly visible. Her legs were bare, her hair down around her shoulders framing and shadowing her carefully made up face. Devon saw a classic temptress, mysteriously shadowed and clearly available.

Susan felt like a tart, standing displayed as she was. But like every woman she played many roles and the one attracting men's attention was something she enjoyed doing. What she didn't enjoy was doing it for a man who considered her a piece of meat the pig was welcome to ogle openly, one he expected to debauch. Still, she kept a mysterious Mona Lisa smile on her face, much easier and more effective than an seductive look. She imagined she saw him figuratively pawing the ground, smoke billowing from his nose.

As he reached the door she moved back to let him in, accepting a kiss on the cheek. She was careful not to return his passion, this was going to be hard enough without letting Devon get out of control. Besides, wearing the tight, stone faded jeans it was easy to see he was hard enough as it was. There was no need to overdo it.

"Uhm... no need hurry, Devon," she crooned. "We have mid afternoon before we need to worry about Peter. Let's take it nice and easy." Leading him by the hand into the living room which seemed shadowed coming from the brightness outside.

She stopped in front of the brown leather sofa, caressing his palm with her thumb. Looking up at him through half opened eyes she huskily crooned, "Sit... and take it easy, honey. That's the way it's going to be today, nice and... easy. We have all the time we need to do everything. Get comfortable while I go and get your drink."

In the kitchen she opened the refrigerator to pull out the small pitcher of whiskey sour Pete had mixed, along with two glasses from the freezer. As she placed them on a tray she called softly into the living room, "Hope you like whiskey sours, lover. I don't feel like margaritas today and made some sours specially for you."

"Sounds like a plan," Devon managed to answer, his voice sounding husky. A whiskey sour wasn't his favorite drink, but he wouldn't mind some if the little slut wanted to suck some down. This was going even better than he had hoped. The slut was going to be fun to pork again. If he went with her program taking it slow to start with, she would be even tastier. Since she was going with the flow it would be easier to get her again if he didn't make things too tough today.

In the living room Susan set the tray on the oak glass-topped coffee table before the couch. Turning slowly and bending forward to give him a look down the front of her dress as it gaped open, she sat down before pouring each of the frosted old fashioned glasses full. Handing Devon a glass, she put hers on the oak end table before standing up slowly, watching to be sure he saw her breasts bob as she moved. Then she walked to the oak entertainment center and turned on the stereo. The sounds of Oscar Peterson's piano softly filled the room.

Turning back she saw her mark had already downed half his drink. Considering the glasses held easily twice as much as the usual sour glass he was on his way. He just didn't know it yet. Swaying slowly back to where he was sitting, his feet on her coffee table, she thought, "Hey, this is fun. I can play the vamp with someone other than Pete and don't have to worry about consequences. Sure glad Pete's here though, makes me feel a whole lot safer."

She stopped between the coffee table and the sofa, turning slowly and pointing her ass in his face as she bent from the waist, she picked up the pitcher then froze in place as Devon ran a hand up her leg under her skirt. She stood quietly, letting him get a good feel, before clucking, "Not too fast, lover. I want this to last." As he pulled his hand back out from under her dress she couldn't help shuddering. Saturday night she had gloried in his touch but today it only felt slimy. A quick glance at his face and the smug look he wore and she knew he thought she had been shivering from excitment. "God!" she thought. "Men are so egotistical!"

Before sitting she refilled his glass, then set the pitcher back on the tray and sat down beside him. As Devon ran a hand up and down her arm she leaned over and kissed him under the chin. She made it last, feeling his Adams apple bob under her lips.

Picking up her glass so that her hand concealed the level of sour in the glass, she tilted it against her lips. She pretended to sip before setting it down. Just as Pete had assured her, the man had raised his glass and taken another gulp himself.

For a few moments she sat half-facing him while she played with his hair. When he reached for her she purred, "Let me play for a while, lover. I really want to go slow this first time. Then later we can get really dirty and fuck like rabbits! 'K?"

The man could only say yes, automatically taking another big gulp of his drink, one that drained his glass. Susan reached over, setting her glass on the end table where he couldn't see it. Devon was already too far out of it that he wouldn't notice she hadn't taken a sip with him. Then she refilled his glass, pretended to refill her own and again pretended taking a drink.

Susan hoped to be able to get through this first stage quickly without taking even a sip of the rohypnole herself. Devon had already downed at least six ounces of whiskey in just the first 20 minutes. On top of the alcohol they had laced the sours with enough of the drug to put down a half dozen people, not even counting the alcohol. It shouldn't take long before he was down for the count. It was her job to keep him distracted. Lordy, she had enjoyed doing that with him last Saturday but today it was a real effort to touch him without grimacing and shuddering. Amazing what being introduced to some men's real character did to their attractiveness.

Susan spent the next fifteen minutes playing with his hair, undoing his shirt and carelessly stroking his chest, all the while keeping Devon's glass filled. The pitcher was a quarter down when she had to catch the glass as it slipped out of his hand. His head fell back against the back of the sofa, then he fell to his side. For just a moment she was mildly concerned that he had imbibed enough rohypnole to be dangerous. Looking at the slime ball she felt her concern fade away.

Susan moved out of the way as he fell, then called Pete out of the den to help her. Before she was on her feet her husband, watching from the hall, was beside her. Together they hauled him into a spare bedroom. There they stripped him, leaving him bare ass naked on the bed.

Pete rummaged through Devon's jeans for his keys and wallet. Then after putting Devon's shirt on over the jeans he was wearing he kissed his sexy wife. Then taking the garage-door opener with him he climbed into Devon's car, leaving her with the unconscious slimeball. Getting Devon's address from his driver's license he drove to the apartment carefully staying at or under the speed limit.

It took only a moment to figure out which key fit and opened the apartment door. Once inside he went through the place, searching every drawer and cabinet. He found the pictures he was looking for in a locked bottom drawer of Devon's desk. He didn't take time to go through them, just slipping them into a paper bag along with several floppy discs stored with them.

The digital camera the man had used last Saturday wasn't in the apartment, but he did find his computer. Doing it the easy way, he started a complete reformat of his hard-drive. Then he assembled all of his floppies disks and zip disks he could find. It would be easier and less nerve wracking to go through the disks on his computer at home. Depending on what he found he might do a format on all the program disks he took home.

Leaving he noticed a small video camera sitting on an end table. Scooping it up he dropped it in the big paper barrel bag before he headed out the door, leaving as he had found it except for the snapped lock on the desk drawer. Then he headed home, arriving two hours after he had left.

Once home Pete began quickly looking at each of the floppy discs. He reformatted every disc that had pictures on it, he didn't want to take time to discriminate, although he tried to sample several spots on each disc. He found two that had family pictures and he left them alone, after making sure that was all they held. He was going to punish the man, but family memories might bring him back into the light.

Going through the discs stored with the photos it was no surprise when he found two discs having pictures of women he didn't know, but similar to the ones taken of Susan. He destroyed those discs, but kept selected photo prints. When he had a chance he would have Susan contact any of the women they could identify and let them know that Devon no longer had the photos.

Having completed the chores with Devon's photos, they set to work making photos of Devon in as many compromising poses as their imaginations came up with. They had had several days to think of this In none of the shots, taken with the borrowed video camera and their digital camera, could anyone but Devon be identified. They tried hard to take photographic "evidence" of Devon involved in every perversion or gay act they collectively had heard of. Pete had been surprised at some of the ideas his straight laced wife came up with. They had no idea if he were homophobic or not, but felt that a man trying to show how "macho" he was could likely be considered anti-gay to some degree. In any event, some of the things they had "proof" of his doing would surely be considered sick to most employers. And few women would dare trust themselves with a man who relished having them done to him.

Printing out some of the better, more distasteful photos they had taken, Pete slipped them in the envelope the blackmail photos had been in. Then he filled the disc Devon had labeled "Susan" with the same shots, along with all the rest.

By the time they were done it had been full dark outside for some time. While Susan carried the "evidence" discs and photo's out to Devon's car Pete dressed the man in his outerwear. When Susan came back the two of them manhandled him out to his car, stuffing him on the floor in the back seat.

Pete slipped behind the wheel, Susan in the passenger seat, and pulled out into the street. Susan closed the garage door with the remote while Pete drove to the Safeway parking lot. There he let Susan out at his car and she climbed in it to follow him to Devon's apartment. Once there he slipped Devon's arm around his neck and staggered convincingly with him to his door. Once inside he drug him to the bedroom, stripped him naked and laid him on top of the covers. Susan carried the "evidence" in and placed it in the drawer when Pete told her where they went.

Because he felt like it, Pete slipped on a pair of leather gloves and worked Devon over thoroughly. When he was done his eyes were blacked, he had a painfully swollen lip, broken ribs and very sore gonads. Exhausted Pete drove them home, leaving no clues of who could have done this to Devon.

Devon knew of course, but he was told in an anonymous phone call what would happen to the photos and video if he tried to blow the whistle.