Katie Donough is the perfect, mild-mannered wife and mother—to all appearances. But the truth is, she's got a dark side that's just waiting to be unleashed. When the neighbors' college-age son, Damien, makes the mistake of crossing Katie, her inhibitions crumble. Katie lets loose all of her dark passions on Damien, subjecting him to hardcore bondage, humiliation, domination, and sexual sadism!
“Were you watching me?” I demanded, towering over him.
“No,” he said, lying where he’d fallen on his back and looking up at me wide-eyed. His friends erupted into a bout of stoned giggling.
I grabbed the phone out of his hand. One of his friends let out a half-amused, “Uh-oh.”
In his gallery were several photos of me in my chair. Some he’d cropped to focus on parts of my body—my breasts, my legs. My feet.
“Oh, you like feet, you little jerk?”
His friends were laughing so hard they were rolling on the ground. Damien reddened. “What? No, I—”
“Do you like this?” I spat, shoving my bare foot in his face, rubbing it over his pretty little nose and mouth. He squirmed. His friends were staring now, open-mouthed.
“Jesus Christ,” exclaimed one of them, a pug-nosed ginger.
I stood over Damien, pinning his face with my foot. I could feel how hard and fast he was breathing. He whimpered a little. When I let my gaze drift to his crotch, I could see a bulge in his pants.
And an evil idea popped into my head.
“You get pictures of me, I get pictures of you,” I said.
I took a few pictures of his stunned stoner face, squished beneath my foot, and sent them to myself; then rolled him over, pantsed him, snapped a photo, and sent that to myself too. I also snapped a pic of the kid with the joint.
“What’re you gonna do with those?” asked Damien’s other friend, a dark-skinned boy with a flat-top.
I hadn’t really thought that far ahead, honestly. “Put them on the Internet next time Damien here pisses me off,” I said, gazing down at my victim. “Then again, maybe next time I’ll just put my foot in his ass.” I heard myself chuckle, a wicked sound, for all its airy musicality. “Little pervert’s got an erection, by the way.”
“Dude,” said the black boy.
I threw Damien’s phone down on him then and stalked away, leaving him to deal with his humiliation while I retreated to my bedroom, pulled up the photos of him I’d just sent myself, and rubbed out a few.