The following story is fiction and does not describe any real person or situation in particular. All characters are at least eighteen. This is part one of a "payback" fantasy trilogy involving elements of control, reluctance, and forced pleasure. Nice or constructive comments are very much appreciated. Rude comments are just mean and will be deleted. Enjoy the fantasy. -xoxo Daphne
***
There was always that one girl...the hot senior back in high school that wouldn't give you the time of day. The one who knew that every guy in the school was lusting after her and would use that to her advantage. The one you just knew was having sex with everyone she deemed worthy of her, and that didn't include you.
That girl was Stacy Richardson, the hot senior with beautiful brunette hair that bounced on her shoulders, piercing blue eyes, a wicked smile, and a confident voice. Her body was perfectly proportioned, with firm breasts that were full but not too large for her figure, lovely toned legs, and a rear that gave her curves in just the right places.
Stacy was smart, assertive, and used to getting her way. Her parents weren't filthy rich but they were well off enough to give Stacy that "rich bitch" persona, and she played the part perfectly.
All throughout high school, Stacy had driven me insane as I watched her flirting with guys just enough to make them think she was interested, and then ignoring them once she got what she wanted. She charmed me a few times as well, and I totally fell for it even though I knew she was manipulating me.
More than once, Stacy would flirt to get me to do her homework. A little pout and some cleavage would have me washing her car. I knew what she was doing, but it was impossible not to give in to those amazing blue eyes.
During one of my student presentations in our senior year Latin class, Stacy purposely sat at her desk, discretely unbuttoning her blouse and playing with her perfect breasts the whole time just to keep me as hard as a flagpole. The embarrassment I felt as I stood in front of everyone trying to hide my bulge was humiliating.
However, the worst thing Stacy did to me took place on our senior spring trip when I thought she was finally going to let me fuck her. She had been flirting with me one evening and asked if I would like to go back to her motel room. When I said yes, Stacy whispered in my ear that she was really horny and wanted me to get a hold of some champagne and meet her there.
Later, when I brought the drinks to her door, Stacy answered it wearing just a white lace bra and panties. Instead of inviting me in, she thanked me, took the bottle, and closed the door...which is when I first noticed that there was already another guy waiting on the bed for her. I was so stunned that all I could do was stand there and stare at the closed door imagining what was happening inside. After a few minutes the moaning began. I can still remember hearing Stacy's cries of pleasure through the door as this guy fucked her out of her mind.
After high school, Stacy and I went to different colleges and I only thought about her in my fantasies, expecting to never see her again except maybe by chance.
Ten years later it happened.
I was in need of a tropical vacation to get away from the corporate world. Since high school, I had gotten a business degree, started my own technology company, made some great investments, and become a very successful entrepreneur. I also had more experience with women behind me so having great sexual encounters wasn't a problem.
Everyone knows though, you always want the one you never had.
My favorite warm vacation spot was Haulover Beach just north of Miami, Florida. The white sands, beautiful water, and luxury resorts nearby made it a wonderful place to get away. Best of all, it wasn't that crowded. There was also a clothing optional section of the beach that was even more secluded.
I had settled into my suite and taken a nice walk to admire the tropical scenery. In the late afternoon I had gone back to the hotel and was in the lift when the doors suddenly opened.
Like a curtain unveiling a new work of art, the lift doors parted and a shapely brunette in a white button down top and grey pencil skirt stepped into the elevator with me. I did a double take when I noticed who it was. It had been ten years and Stacy looked just as hot as she did when she was eighteen. Her breasts were really snug against her blouse and she had her top two buttons undone. How many times over the past ten years had I dreamed about holding those perfect perky breasts of hers?
As the lift door closed, Stacy stared at me.
"I know you..."
"Yes," I nodded trying to play it cool, "we were in high school together."
Stacy's mouth fell open.
"Oh my gosh," she put her hands on her hips as she realized who I was, "how ARE you?"
"Pretty good actually," I said, noticing her business attire, "are you here for work?"
"Sort of," Stacy explained, "I was a speaker today for women's equality at the annual NOW conference here."
"Oh great," I thought to myself, "she's a feminist."
"It's really ridiculous how women are treated in the workplace by men," Stacy elaborated as if I had asked her for more details, "many women are treated like sex objects and I want to help encourage people to change the culture of demeaning women in today's world."
I nodded as if I was interested. Personally, I had never used my position to discriminate against women but I knew it did happen sometimes. I found it ironic that as Stacy was talking to me about changing the culture of misogyny, I was checking out her rack and fucking her in my mind. I would have loved nothing more at that moment than to shove her against the wall, pull her skirt up, and pound that little bitch's pussy until she saw stars.
"So what brings you here?" Stacy asked, looking me over.
"Just a vacation to get away from the business," I replied.
"What business is that?" Stacy asked, beginning to get curious.
"I own my own tech company," I replied casually, "we set up networks for banking systems and develop security software. It's not the most exciting business in the world, but the private jet and large country estate in France make it worth the work."
Obviously impressed, Stacy raised her eyebrows.
"Really? You're THAT...successful?"
I nodded, knowing that by "successful" she meant "rich".
Stacy tilted her head to one side and smiled.
"So...are you seeing anyone?"
I knew that look. It was the same look she gave everyone in high school when she turned on the charm.
"Not right now," I replied, "I was just going to have my driver take me to dinner."
"Well then," Stacy cozied up to me, touching my arm gently with her hand, "you'll need some company. Why don't I go take off these dress clothes, put on something more...tropical, and then your driver can take both of us to dinner."
"Wow, she's good," I thought to myself. I knew she was only flirting with me because I was wealthy and successful. She had played this game with so many guys in high school. No doubt, Stacy had used her feminine wiles to get what she wanted from men since then as well. It had always worked for her. Under all that feminist rhetoric, she was still the same Stacy from high school playing the same sexual games.
This time however, I intended to teach this manipulative bitch a lesson.
"Okay," I agreed as the lift stopped at Stacy's floor, "I'll have the limo out front in an hour."
As Stacy stepped out of the elevator, she flashed a flirty smile at me over her shoulder.
"I can't wait."
***
An hour later I sat in the back seat of my limo parked outside the hotel entrance.
"Who are we waiting on sir?" My chauffeur Gavin inquired.
I put my hands behind my head and leaned back.
"Her name is Stacy...Stacy Richardson. We went to high school together. I hadn't seen her in ten years until this afternoon."
"Someone you dated?" Gavin asked.
"Not yet," I replied raising an eyebrow, "she was a total bitch back then and I wasn't worth her time. She loved to manipulate men to get what she wanted. Now apparently she's a pro-feminist speaker."
Gavin rolled his eyes.
"Sounds like a real winner," he said with sarcasm, "so why are you taking her to dinner?"
"I like a challenge," I replied, pulling out my phone to show Gavin a picture of Stacy from high school, "and she is smoking hot."
"Woah! You aren't kidding," Gavin stared at the picture in awe, "does she by chance have a sister?"
We both smiled as we watched the main doors of the building.
The attendant at the hotel entrance held open the large ornate door as Stacy came bouncing down the stairs, flashing a gorgeous smile, her long brunette hair resting casually on her shoulders. She had changed out of her professional clothes and was wearing the loveliest blue and white sundress. The skirt came teasingly just below the knee and had tank top straps on her otherwise bare shoulders. The front of the dress had three vertical buttons fastened at the neckline that held her full breasts snugly in place. Cute little hoop earrings tickled the sides of her face and a lovely white flower was pinned in her hair off to one side. Her white pumps clicked on the pavement as she strutted towards the limo.
At first glance, one wouldn't think that this sweet looking tropical beauty was the bitch I had known from high school, but the arrogance in her walk and the confidence in her smile gave her away.
"Good evening, Miss Richardson," Gavin stepped out of the limo and opened the door for Stacy.
She raised her eyebrows, obviously very impressed.
Her breasts seemed to be leading the way as Stacy got into the back seat next to me. It was then I noticed that her nipples were clearly outlined through her dress. She had purposely gone without a bra to draw my attention to her rack.
"Damn that bitch is good," I thought to myself. Apparently, Stacy was one of those feminists that used her body to get what she wanted from men while at the same admonishing them for viewing her as a sex object.
It made me more determined than ever to put this hypocritical cunt in her place.
"Hi," Stacy flashed her smile, her piercing blue eyes flirting with me.
The sound of a champagne cork popping made her jump slightly. Gavin handed me a glass of the sparkling wine, which I then handed to Stacy.
She smiled at me coyly.
"So, what's the occasion?"
"Reunited friends," I replied, taking a second glass for myself, "a beautiful woman, and of things to come."
Stacy raised an eyebrow as we clinked and sipped together.
As the limo departed towards our dinner destination, Gavin activated a panel covering the window between the front and back of the vehicle. Stacy gave me a sly smile as she took another sip of champagne.
I paused a moment to register what was happening. I was alone in the back seat of my limo with Stacy Richardson, the girl I had fantasized about for years in high school, someone who never would have considered me worthy of being inside her pussy.
Now however, I had something she wanted, and I was going to make her work for it.
Like a curious kitten, Stacy tilted her head slightly to one side and caressed my arm playfully.
"So, what's it like being so rich and successful?"
"Oh it's terrible," I said with sarcasm, "the money, the travel, the vacations...it's a nightmare."
"I'll bet," Stacy gave me "that" look with her gorgeous blue eyes. The one that says "I'm hot, and I know you want to fuck me, and I'm going to use that to get exactly what I want from you."
"What is it like being an active speaker for feminism?" I turned the subject around to her.
"I don't get rich off of it," Stacy admitted, "but fighting against sexism, misogyny, and the objectification of women is something I really believe in."
I couldn't help noticing the irony of her statement considering her pert visible nipples were practically begging me to touch them. Her back was arched beautifully, thrusting those gravity-defying breasts out towards me; and those piercing blue eyes were positively hypnotic.
"It's hard to get funding though," she added, putting her champagne glass aside, "causes like this need some financial backing."
