The house was large, Victorian by design and vulnerable by his observation. He had been in these woods for four days, performing his usual level of pre-incidence surveillance and shaking his head in amusement. The woman who lived in this house was a bitch. He knew this because she had been his supervisor up until three weeks ago, until she fired him for insubordination. Maybe he shouldn't have told her to fuck off when he was having a loud argument with Harold Welson, the head of the tooling department, but he hadn't been in his right mind then. That excuse didn't sit well with her. And so with three boxes of personal belongings and sixteen years of work history with the company, he'd been escorted to the door and forgotten like a retired employee.
That was when he decided to take his revenge out on her. He wouldn't run screaming with blazing guns into the machine shop; his firing wasn't the fault of the company. The blame lay directly on her shoulders and he intended to make sure that she knew it and didn't practice her sad sense of workplace justice on someone else. He lifted the binoculars and checked out the front windows again. It was nearly eleven o'clock and night cloaked him in its devilish shroud, allowing him to move closer, to scent his unsuspecting prey.
She was beautiful, of course. No bitch had ever been ugly in his experience and he managed not to drool as he watched her step out of the shower and towel off. Her heavy breasts bumped against her arms as she rubbed her legs dry and started on her back. Her waist was wide as were her hips, but both were well-muscled, by-products of the martial arts she practiced. Most people were afraid of her because of her strength but he had prepared for that eventuality. GHB in a hypodermic needle would see to that. She left the bathroom and moved into her bedroom, setting the clock before she turned off the lights, plunging the entire house into darkness.
Time to settle the score, bitch.
* * * * *
Colette Harding was sound asleep when the gloved hand clapped over her mouth and a ball gag pushed past her lips. Her wrists were firmly tied behind her back and her ankles were tied to each of the bottom posts. A heavy man sat on her, straddling her waist as he secured the gag then sat back to admire his handiwork.
"Hello,
bitch
."
She struggled against the bonds but could find no give in the ropes. She was stuck and stuck fast.
"How do you like being under someone else's control? Not very nice, is it?"
Colette moaned, closing her eyes and playing the overwhelmed girl role while desperately trying to think. Who the hell was this? How could she get free? She opened her eyes, trying to meet his and convey childlike fear. The brutal slap he delivered jarred her teeth and she moaned anew.
"Don't try to pretend that you're some innocent,
bitch
. I know your true nature and you're not fooling me."
He yanked off his ski mask and her eyes shot wide open. Joe Henderson, recently removed from her supervision. Now she understood. His hands rapidly unzipped his black corduroys and his prick snapped out, thin and hard.
