Chapter 7: Retribution?
Two days later I was still basking in the glow of my experience with Claire when the other shoe fell. It was a hotter than usual day in Bangkok. I was running around my apartment without a shirt when I heard an angry pounding on the front door. When I opened it, a battle readied Stacy stood behind it ready to take my head off the first chance she got.
"You fucking bastard. Who the fuck do you think you are messing with Claire? She steamed as she took a swing at me that missed.
Most women coming at me like a raging bull wouldn't worry me in the least bit, but Stacy was different. She was a hundred and thirty pounds of well-built fury. A punch from her would do some serious damage. That was something I wanted to avoid if at all possible.
Several frantic moments of Stacy chasing me around the apartment without much success before she almost got me with a roundhouse right. I had let down my guard for a moment while I stared at Stacy's mountainous breasts with huge puffy nipples. The breeze of her punch rustled my hair. Stacy's swing threw her off balance and she slipped on one of my socks lying on the floor.
Before I could catch her, Stacy's head hit the bedpost on my bed and opened up a very nasty cut. I rushed over to her and immediately saw that the blow had knocked her unconscious. I briefly considered calling for an ambulance. Two factors prevented me from doing so. First of all, I had no telephone in the apartment. Secondly, my Thai was so poor, I wasn't sure I could communicate well enough to get an ambulance to where we were. My next thought was to call my boss and have her direct the paramedics to our location.
As a precaution, I gently lifted Stacy into my bed. To prevent her from doing further damage to herself while I sought help, I tied Stacy's wrists and ankles to the bedposts with just enough tightness that she couldn't get out of them but not tight enough to hurt her. I fetched a bottle of rubbing alcohol and gently began cleaning the wound before I went next door to call my boss.
The stinging sensation of the alcohol brought Stacy around again. I braced myself for the worst. I knew she was immediately going to blame me for her injury and try to inflict something similar on me. Having Stacy hurt me would do neither one of us any good.
"You getting off having a black woman tied helpless to the bed you white bastard?" Stacy spewed with all the viciousness she could muster.
My silence seemed to further inflame her. Stacy then spat in my face as I wiped the blood from her temples. I figured a bit of tolerance would go a long ways and I just brushed the spit aside and continued my work. Stacy's next action brought my temper to a boil.
While I was bending over Stacy cleaning her head wound, she sunk her teeth into my cheek. I yelped as I pulled away. I had pulled away quick enough to prevent any serious damage, but she had broken the skin and I had started to bleed quite a bit. I stepped away from Stacy to try and stop the bleeding and consider my next move.
"That'll teach you not to mess with a black woman, you white-bread chicken shit," Stacy mocked as I applied pressure to the bite mark she had just created.
I considered the options I had open to me. I could go with the flow and smack the ungrateful wench around, but that could lead to serious consequences later. I wasn't about to be sent packing because of a vengeful woman who got the best of me. Another option was that I would just leave Stacy tied to the bed to stew in her own juices until she had an attitude adjustment. I decided a third option was the answer.
This plan would take great patience to execute. I filled a basin with cold water. Next, I took a towel and dipped it in the water. I then proceeded to slowly clean Stacy's feet and legs. The confused look on her face told me my plan was starting to work.
I followed the bathing of Stacy's feet and legs with a gentle scrubbing of her arms. It was then I threw my plan into full throttle. I took a feather from the nearby dresser and started tickling the bottoms of Stacy's feet. Full-bodied laughter rolled out of her as she begged me to stop. Relentlessly, I continued the torture of pleasure. I smiled as I watched tears roll down the sides of Stacy's face as I kept tickling her.
Another unexpected effect of my tickling was that Stacy's nipples began to noticeably harden. My curiosity wondered how long and fat her nipples would become when fully aroused. It was then that I began sucking on her newly cleaned toes. Stacy's cursing now turned into slow, guttural moans. When I hit her arch with my tongue, her whole body tensed. I had found one of my tormentor's weak spots.
I worked each of Stacy's arches with loving care before I stopped and looked at her. Her nipples now stood out of her tank top proudly. I could also detect the faint scent of female arousal as well. My enemy had been vanquished, but that didn't mean I was through with Stacy by any stretch of the imagination.
"Don't stop," Stacy now begged in a hoarse whisper.
"What about this white-bread chicken shit stuff?" I asked sternly.
"I'm so sorry, I never knew a man could make me feel this good."
