Summary: An angry ex gets back at her bisexual ex-lover. Written for a dear friend—any resemblance to anyone in real life is just intended as a mind-fuck. First thing I've ever written, so, forewarning, it might be terrible.
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I felt a tingle run through my body as I slowly approached the house...my feet padding softly through the grass. It was past midnight—nearly everyone had gone to bed...except for that special someone. And by special, I meant victim.
I carefully inspected the house, trying to figure out a way in. It was pretty hot out—maybe one of the windows had been left open? I checked each and every window, until I found one on the second story that had been forgotten. My stomach twisted—I was terrified of heights. There WAS rope in my bag...and there was a rather conveniently placed tree right by the window. Trees weren't so bad, as far as heights went... I could get up them just fine and still feel safe.
But what if they have a gun? I asked myself. Do you really want to die over some stupid revenge fantasy?
Tough call. I decided to climb the tree—if it was the right room, I'd continue on with my plans. If it wasn't, I'd get the fuck out of there.
I tied a loop in the rope and threw it towards the tree until it finally caught on a branch. I pulled it down the limb until it was closer to the trunk and then pulled it taut. Perfect...
Using my toes, I began to climb up to the lowest branch. I wished that I'd brought a pair of gloves—I could fastrope back down when it was time to leave. Maybe he had a pair that I could steal and use to make a quick getaway...
After some time, I made my way up to the window. I took a quick peek in. The lights were off, but I could see the glare of a computer screen. No one was in front of it...perfect. I could slip in, hide, and wait for him to come back...if it was the right room.
I crawled in, carefully looking for any nightstands or bookshelves immediately by the window. Nothing—it was perfectly clear. I gingerly stepped down, and, my curiosity getting the better of me, crept over to the computer. A quick glance at the story confirmed that I was in the right room. I rolled my eyes and sighed. Of course that little slut would be reading dirty stories about other men at this time of night.
There was a creak right outside of the door—and a familiar voice. I quickly crawled beneath his bed, scooting back far enough that I could just barely see.
"Yeah, we haven't really talked in a few weeks. She's doing good, from what I've seen." A pause. "It's been hard for both of us, but it had to be done. How do you take care of someone with her...energy...from a thousand miles away? It's not possible. I mean shit, I thought I had high energy. That girl puts me to shame."
We'll see just how high my damn energy is when you get off the fucking phone...
He talked to his friend for what seemed like hour...I almost fell asleep. Finally, the phone clicked off and I could hear him shuffling around, the light of the computer went out and the bed shifted. He must be about to go to sleep...
But not until I was done with him.
Carefully, I reached into my bag and found a plastic bag full of damp cloths. I slowly crawled from underneath the bed, and crouched beside it. His back was to me and he was reading something on his phone. The site was familiar—the same he'd been reading on the computer...and this position would give me the most advantage. I wasn't a delicate little thing, but I wasn't big either. He had a good forty lbs on me.
I sat there for a few minutes, observing his breathing. I waited for him to inhale before holding my breath and pulling out one of the cloths. On his exhale, I pressed the cloth hard to his face and wrapped my legs around him. He was forced to inhale the chloroform—it's one thing to hold your breath when your lungs are full. It's something completely different when you have no air at all.
He was thrashing hard, trying to get away. I held on even tighter, my heart beating extremely fast. I wasn't sure how well I could hold on, but he seemed to be weakening.
"Mmph! MMM! Mmm..."
He was slowing down, his hands pulling at my wrist, but unable to fully pull me away. I waited ten seconds after he stopped moving to pull the cloth away—I didn't want to hurt him.
That badly.
I pulled him over onto his back, pulling his arms up above his head, and set to work.