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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
A woman's revenge

Submitted: August 20, 2007

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Submitted: August 20, 2007



She glared at him, as he lay helpless at her feet. Another man thinking he could take control of her. She showed him that it wasn’t going to happen in this case. Everything inside her screamed with excitement, she laughed as he began to beg.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “What do you want from me?”

“I want nothing more than to make you pay, you meaningless sack of shit,” she said, grinding her heel into his chest. A smile played upon her lips as she savored every moment.

One look in his eyes and she knew she had him. He would do anything she wished. That wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted him to suffer.

She listened as he yelped in pain. The heel of her shoe was making a red mark against his bare chest. She smiled again.

He tried to move away, only there was nowhere for him to go. His back was literally against the wall. When he had fallen, she took full advantage and tied him naked, to the radiator.

“It’s amazing what a little alcohol can do to a man, don’t you think?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

He said nothing, just stared at her with his piercing blue eyes. He hoped they would break her, but instead, they appeared to infuriate her even more.

“Cat got your tongue sweetheart?” she purred, kneeling beside him. “Now, now, maybe if you play nice I’ll let you go. Would you like that?”
Again, he said nothing. He was too afraid to speak. If he said the wrong thing, who knew what would happen to him.

“Aw, it’s not as much fun if you don’t play along,” she said, glaring at him. “You do want to play don’t you? After all that is why you came here, isn’t it?”

She motioned around the barely furnished room. The house was one she had bought for just this purpose, ‘To play… the player’.  That was exactly what she was about to do.

She walked from the room, a slight sashay to her hips. ‘Might as well let him enjoy the view,’ she thought ruefully. Heading to the kitchen, she traced her hands along the fading wallpaper that she one day planned to replace.

Humming to herself, she went to the counter where she kept her ‘special’ knives. Admiring each and remembering who had succumbed to which knife brought a tender smile to her face. Sliding her finger over each handle, she whispered names of other men she had brought home.

“Brian, David, Trevor, Kevin, and now… Brandon,” she whispered. “Sweet Brandon has no idea what’s coming. Then again neither did any of the others. “

She laughed happily, as she practically hopped to the living room.

“Honey,” she said giddily. “I’m back, did you miss me?”
His eyes grew wide as she approached him. The glint from the blade blinded him for a moment.

“It’ll only hurt for a moment, I promise,” she smiled, driving the knife deep into his chest.

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