Chapter 6Foil

It had been almost four weeks since my first kill, there had been nothing in the newspapers, no police at my doorstep and rather than just feeling relieved I had gotten away with it, I was planning the next one. However, there was work to be done before I could enjoy myself. Work in a more literal sense, I mean. It was a demanding job, mostly, being the manager of a fairly decent sized sales and marketing team. And, as I didn't use my sexual urges to get ahead in my work, it had to be earned the old-fashioned way. In fact, because of my looks, it was automatically assumed that I had slept my way to the top, but nothing could be further from the truth. Fortunately, my team was quite happy with their manager, as much as they could be. There always is (and probably will be) a certain animosity between leaders and those led. The leaders are responsible for the things the led do, so they are more careful in their actions and have to make sure the led don't go out of control. At least, this is how it should be. In any case, the week passed mostly uneventful save for one slightly annoying colleague making a pass at me.

Which in itself is not a rare occurrence, though most of my fellow workers usually get it after a single rejection. It wasn't very difficult to deal with most of the time and rarely needed to be crude. Sometimes, however, there are these more annoying figures at work (always men) that unrelentingly pursue their prey until they get their way. Unfortunately for this one, he chose the wrong chick to chase. My team and most of my colleagues, are well aware of the 'don't even try' unwritten rule concerning me. Flirting is fine, but any endeavor at a serious pass is shot down quicker than a duck flying over a field filled with fleece wearing falconers during hunting season. Of course, the more experienced, serious flirts know not to do it in front of an audience, as the chance of rejection is high and the only thing worse than a woman evading advances, is the public humiliation that can come with it. This guy, experienced in all the wrong ways, really went too far. He squeezed my bottom with his full hand and tried to wave it off as an accident.

It didn't help that I had a small vibrator in me at the time, which should have gone unnoticed by him. Still, retribution was required, demanded even.

The biggest problem of the situation was that the guy in question was the type to just get angry at sexual harassment cases. Even if the job was lost, his mind would simply blame the victim, citing instigation from their side and, when lost, would blame the system. He would learn nothing. Instead, it would be needed to make it perfectly crystal clear to him that such things are not only undesired, but that he should never do something like that again. A public lesson, naturally. On short notice, I came up with a simple but effective plan to expose and hurt him at the same time. There was a single place where he usually tried to grope or otherwise get close to me. This was around the lunch area, a fairly modern and round area with some semi-closed corners for private tables. There was often a line for food, but, because people had lunch somewhere between noon and two, never a very long one. The problem was that leading into the hall was an angled corridor, with the middle out of view for either side. The windows on the outside mattered little as people rarely went there during the day, making it a perfect place. Of course this is where he had struck and, most likely, would strike again.

The timing of my own lunch varied, but I had noticed that he paid enough attention to my movements to know when I was going down a few floors for my break, food and dessert. It was Friday, meaning most people dressed more casual than normal, as did I. Clothed in jeans and a nice looking top, all according to a devious and complicated plan. Alright, perhaps not that complicated, but still fairly devious. Before I arrived in that corridor, I'd gone to the bathroom (which wasn't that odd in itself, it's not pleasant to eat while having to go) and removed the toy that I had with me today. Then I pushed two pins in the fabric of my jeans, in the back area obviously, in such a way that if someone would hazard to grope, they'd push into their skin and hurt them quite a bit. His manager, by request, followed the two of us, far away enough to be unseen but close enough to hear the scream. The trap was set, the players in motion and attention at an all-time high. Judges would have looked with interest and curiosity to see the unfolding. The failed flirt followed me like he did on too many occasions and acted like he was just getting ready to stand in line behind me. A slightly quickened pace that would bring him too close to me in the middle of that corridor.

And grope.

His intent was actually to squeeze rather firmly, but instead of my bum, the palm of his hand pressed itself into the sharp pin. It went even a little better than expected, as he tore a small wound in the palm of his hand in shock of the sting. His curses of surprise and anger were nothing compared to my amused smile as his manager came along and asked him to come with him. Meekly he followed and disappeared out of my life, beaten and bleeding. At least I hope he realized now that it's not just about the lawsuits, but actually about the action itself being wrong. Naturally when the company sent a discreet e-mail around, quite a number of women came forward willing to testify against him. Instead of just chasing him away and getting a fine, he earned some well deserved time in prison where his exploits were no doubt appreciated by the all-male populous. One can only hope that he has learned his lesson finally.

Curiously, this little prick to defeat him was an ironic prelude to the venture of the weekend.

Ah yes, the weekend. My first weekend to be completely aware of what was going to happen at the end of a night with fair certainty. All prepared with clothes, wigs, lenses and make-up, I went into town. Again, I chose a Saturday to make it possible to drive a little further. My kit was all ready, as was the rest of me. Especially the knife had almost been the object of my masturbation session this morning, but, with the image of The Exorcist in my mind, it was something I'd rather not attempt. The place for the hunt was an upbeat club with quite a large crowd and decent music. The amount of people and volume made it slightly harder to talk to any of them at length, required to find out my needs, but also provided a greater variety of choice. It also meant that my presence could go completely unnoticed, staying off the high placed cameras by simply keeping my head down. This had the added advantage of making me look more submissive, something that usually played well with my prey. My goal wasn't to intimidate, far from it, preferably the guy never would find out that I was the one in control.

It took more patience and tries than I had expected, but eventually an interesting guy to be my first. A little older, jobless but somewhat rugged, in good shape and with a decent amount of hygiene and style. One of the people that wasn't actively hunting but just sitting in a corner, sometimes talking, sometimes dancing, mostly unnoticed. His style was casual but classy, his cultural knowledge good enough to make him less boring and, best of all, lived alone in a small apartment within walking distance. A building of grand stature, according to itself. A sign on the side spoke of the time it was build and the mayor who had laid the first stone, words read while he opened the door. The guy probably didn't even know about it, for him it was just a place to live in. The night was well underway already, reflected by the absence of people on the streets or out of their rooms. Elevator, doors, hallway, coats on racks and a tour of the place.

Simple, functional, mostly clean. Some dishes from last night as well as today, a pizza-box but not too old either. Not much dust, white walls, cheap furniture complemented by a nice painting on the wall. No strong smells, some incense actually. The curtains were already closed, as were the windows. The large television and empty bottle of beer next to the sofa told its own story, one that I neglected. The bedroom was small, filled almost completely with the bed. Minor boasting as he told how he'd made the bed himself, and the trouble he'd had finding a single mattress that was big enough. It looked solid enough and, as I sat down on it, it didn't squeak. Again white walls, slightly musky smell, one large closet next to the door. No chairs and one small table next to the bed. The guy was a little unused to all of this, as was obvious by the lack of feminine touches of the whole place. He took care of himself, but he didn't have company often. He stood there motionless, wondering what would happen next now that he had led me to his bedroom.

So I took charge.

Not too fast, but enough to get things rolling. A caress over his cheek, a kiss on his lips was enough to get the idea of going further into his mind. Soon his hands were groping me (no danger of sharp objects that time, at least not clothing related) and doing it decently well. Once over the initial insecurity of what was going to happen, he felt comfortable to take the lead and undress me slowly, licking me on my stomach, breasts, neck and arms after he removed my top and bra, and my legs down to my feet. It was really nice that he didn't just start licking my vagina, but knew that building up tension is more fun. My clothes, however, were taken care of by me, making sure to keep them away from the bed while I kept my bag reasonably close. His clothes were removed with the accompaniment of little bites. He seemed surprised but very appreciating of those, another suspicion confirmed. It was fun to give little bites in his skin, going from his inner legs all the way up to his crotch, without really touching his penis. It's a very interesting and playful manner to keep control of the situation. Having the other person desire your touch in a specific place and not granting them it.

His fingers were all over me once I climbed on the bed next to him, it was indeed squeak free and big. Huge even. I could easily lie down sideways without touching the edges. His fingers mostly mimicked my own teasing. As I was going over his chest, licking his nipple, his fingers went over mine, pinching mine. It was quite fun to tease him so close to his member with the tip of my tongue, feeling the tips of his fingers come pleasurably close to my own intimate region. A lick over his shaft was rewarded with his finger sliding inside of me and a moan from the both of us. It was fun to have someone as responsive as this. And the knowledge of what I was going to do made it only better.

So much more exciting.