For the next two hours, Eleanor went on a shopping spree. It wasn't too hard to find stores open late on Friday night, and cliché as it was she was a girl who never lacked enthusiasm for new things. Besides, this was the best sort of shopping possible: Kevin would pay for everything, and when he realized what she'd done -- and she wondered how long that would take -- he'd blame everything on Elise. He'd hate the bitch for it! You really can't buy better revenge than that. Well, actually, that was exactly what she was doing...anyways.
She got the hell away from the WAC first of all; she didn't want to be seen at the hotel any more than necessary. Her plan was good, she thought -- but that might just have been the effects of the booze. Speaking of which, first stop was the all night corner store. Being Washington, which was a pansy state when it came to selling alcohol, all they had was beer -- which wouldn't mix well -- and wine coolers. It was good enough to keep the buzz, though, and she threw two back as soon as she paid for them. With a chuckle she realized she'd have to piss again soon. Not that she was planning to do that to Kevin again, as it really wasn't her usual thing, but it had been a lot of fun to degrade him.
The next stop was an ATM. Normally, a wad of filched credit cards wouldn't hold much promise for her; sure, hardly anyone checked the damn things, but if someone did she was fucked, and probably on camera. Even if she ran, that could undo all her trickery. But the company had its own secure database, one that used a four digit PIN -- 'just like a bank card,' they'd said -- for the CPAs to get access. A couple months ago, while she'd been warming up on Kevin, she'd lost her own access due to some indecipherable IT screw up. Kevin, gallant and horny hero that he was, had provided his own. It was reasonable to assume that he used the same code on multiple things, just for simplicity, and a few minutes with the ATM confirmed it. On every single one of his debit cards. Jesus, the pig almost deserved it after that. He had some major cash, too -- holy crap, he had over fifty thousand in his checking accounts. The partnership paid well, but that was still nearly a year's salary; who the hell kept that much money around? No wonder he'd never done a girl's ass before, he must never get out to do anything. She took out a grand -- his cards were capped, of course, but she was more than content. It sent a great message, that Elise would take anything from him she could, and it padded tonight's expenses.
Then it was back to the sex shop she'd visited earlier. The walk was more interesting this time; the night was colder, which sent a shock between her legs, an area still wet from her juices and Kevin's mess. She also realized just how short her skirt was; at the office, with hose, it was risqué. In the hilly stretches of down town, without a scrap underneath, it wasn't much more than a display case. She loved it at first, but blushed red when two boys behind her on an escalator openly commented about her hairless cunt -- she even heard the recorded clicking sound effect of a camera phone -- but she only pressed her thighs together and refused to turn around. The last thing she wanted was her face on some internet up-skirt photograph. When she reached her destination she was humiliated and wet all over again, wondering how many people had caught a glimpse on the way.
