HOMEWRECKER - Extract
"Who
is this please?"
Meghan
sat back and smiled a deep red lipstick smile. She liked this part of the
process. The cat and mouse - the toying with her victim casually and easily knowing
that there was only going to be one outcome. These text message sessions got
her wet between the legs and she wasn't ashamed of
that. In fact quite the opposite.
"I'm
your worst nightmare."
She
let out a little giggle to herself as she watched the message immediately being replied to.
"Look,
please, you're worrying me. Just tell me who you are,
please?"
Meghan
pondered for a little while before she answered again. She was playing with the
wife of one of her home wrecking victims. At one point or another it always
came to this. And she did her best to vary the outcome, or make it different.
What this meant was that time on time case on case, she upped the anti, the severity and the cruelty.
"I'm
the hot brat your husband pays money to, to humiliate and control him."
She
pressed send and lifted her feet up onto her own desk. Her legs were long,
shapely, and sheathed in dark brown nylon. Her feet were arched into the highest of spiked heels. A tiny, short
dress she wore was up high enough around her hips to reveal that the pantyhose
crotch was saturated with her own wetness, and stuck
to the hairless smooth flesh of her sex.
She
ran a long, perfectly manicured fingernail down the middle of her crotch -
where the nylon was saturated and where her sex lips were
pressed from the inside out. She brushed her teeth with her fleshy wet
tongue and rolled her eyes a little bit. She was enjoying this. She had the
feeling this was going to be the best yet. But then that had been the pattern
throughout her short 'career'. Giving herself a bigger
buzz than the last time.
Yes
she was enjoying the sensation she was giving herself through the nylon and
with her talon like nails. But she was also enjoying the despair of the woman
on the other end of the texts she was sending.
She'd got into the heads, into the minds of the
perverts who paid her. It was the greed that got her into it. The easy money.
But then what she hadn't been prepared for the was the
sexual excitement it gave her.
She'd approached it from her immaturity, as though
she could handle anything. And that nothing could ever get to her. She reasoned
with herself that these were pathetic men, with pathetic urges that they would
hide at any cost, and that she would reap the rewards of that.
The
rest of it she could just laugh off. she could laugh out loud
at those pathetic perverts who lusted after her feet, and other body parts. And
who masturbated as they pressed send on the account transfers they did from
their accounts to hers.
"You're lying to me. Who even are you? My husband wouldn't pay some bitch money. We're
happily married. Now what do you want?"
Megan
liked the live ones.
"I
have no reason to lie. Your husband, the father of your children, contacted me,
wanted to know if he could worship my feet. I said he could but it would cost
him."
She
pressed send but she had more to say. She wanted to see how this panned out
though.
"That's just ridiculous. He's never
been interested in 'feet', let alone some woman off the internet."
"I'm barely a woman. Just nineteen years old in fact. And I
promise you, he worships my feet as though they are his god."
Meghan
could slip the metaphorical knife in with ease and then just turn it slightly
to cause more pain.
"You're lying to me. I know you are. What you describe, who
you describe is not my husband. So stop playing your games."
Meghan
squeezed her thighs. She could sense the utter despair of a woman who was
unravelling.
"I'm not lying, I'm telling you the truth. You know over the
last twelve months, he's paid me 50k, out of your
joint account. Go check it out."
And
she pressed send again. She'd have dearly loved to
have been able to see this woman's face now.
"Check
out payments to 'M. Springfield'. That's
me. Just look at the payments."
Meghan
was creating more despair with the same ease that others created joy for
themselves. Meghan's joy came in bubbles of fluid from between her sex lips.
"There
must be some mistake. This cannot be right."
"No
mistake. Fifty grand over twelve months. And in the last month, I've told him, if he wants to continue worshipping my feet,
as well as the payments he makes to me every month, he's going to need to start
sucking cock for my financial gain as well."
And
she pressed send.
"I
don't believe you..."
Meghan
laughed to herself. She liked reaching this precise point in the process. The
point where the proof was laid bare for the woman to
absorb.
"Just
wait, let me send you something..."
And
she pressed send making sure the anticipation for this woman was ramped up some
more. She selected a short clip, attached it to another message and pressed
send. Than she sat back, spread her legs and stroked
her clitoris through the sheer pantyhose crotch that was stuck to her sex
flesh. She could hear herself moaning a little as she sent wave after wave of
undiluted pleasure through her most intimate sexual flesh. Then she typed
another message into her big screen smart phone.
"That's
your husband, wearing panties, on his knees with a black cock down his throat,
for me."
It was
all she typed and then she sat back again. Now it was different. The gap was
different, the vibe was different. It wasn't just a
word game now, or hide and seek with this woman. The woman'd been convinced
that this other woman sending her messages had been some kind of 'scam'. That it was someone just trying to wind her up or
something. There'd come a point when she'd known this
wasn't the case.
She
woman watched the video clip on loop. At first she looked to see of there was
any way that this couldn't be him. That it was some
kind of trick photography. Anything was possible these days. But it didn't matter how many times she watched the clip, the sight
of that black cock being fed into the mouth of her panty wearing husband was
stark and it was real.
"What
sort of woman are you? To do this to a man, to do this to his family?"
Yes,
Megan liked the words of another woman who was breaking down.
"He's done it to himself. He came to me, not the other way
round. You'll already know that the money he would
normally spend on you, and the twins, has gone. It was just that gradual
eroding away of his savings and salary. The handing it all to me, whilst his
family went without. Now that I'm talking about it, to
you, it will all make sense."
It wasn't enough for her to destroy this woman. She really did
want to twist the knife at the same time.
"And
now, he's sucking cock to make me more money."
There
it was again, Meghan twisting the knife knowing already that the woman on the
other side was close to the edge. It seemed like it was a long, long time
before she replied.
"So you've got everything. Just leave us alone."
"Not
everything, no."
"What
then. For god's sakes what more do you want."
"You!"
It was
a simple, mini exchange.
"What
do you even mean, me?"
There
was some exasperation in the tone of text message and
Meghan smiled at that.
"I
want you like I have your husband. Under my total control. Do you understand
that?"
Meghan
was playing again.
"You can't have me. You've fucked us up.
Now leave us alone."
"That's not enough. I want you as well and I am going to have
you, trust me."
Meghan
counteracted this woman's tone with her own.
"What
do you want, from me? What do you actually want?"
This
time impatience in the text but also a resignation that she wasn't
going to simply slip away from this nightmare.
"We're going to meet, in public, in safety. There's no danger to you. The only danger is that if you do
not give yourself to me, that the details of you, and your husband, and what he
gets up to, on his time off, will be released to the
wider internet."
She
let those words sink in. What this woman felt no other woman would be able to
empathise with, unless they'd been through it
themselves.
"You can't, you can't let this out? Please, please it will finish
us once and for all. You've
already destroyed our marriage. It could never be the same again."
"You're already finished once and for all. What I want to do
now, is peel back your layers, and fuck you up - much
like I've fucked him up."
Again
there was a pause - a wait for the woman to come back at her.
"But you've got the money. I can't give
you any more."
"Yes, you're right. I have complete control of the money. But it's YOU I want now. And you will give yourself to me, I
promise. But first we need to meet. I like to do this face to face. It's the only way."
Meghan's
tone was casual again now. She'd done the hard work.
She was reeling this devastated woman in, via text message, and she could now
'enjoy' what she was doing.
"What
if I refuse?"