The Corruption of Felicia

A tale of sex, vengeance, and much more sex told in four parts. I would like to thank a friendly cowboy for giving me the idea for this story. I hope he finds the reading as enjoyable as I did the writing. I would also like to thank Bella Mariposa for donating her valuable time to edit the piece, and highlighting some of my more idiotic typos and grammatical errors.

_______________________________

MONDAY

Felicia's green eyes stared dispassionately back at Leosha, betraying none of the seething hatred she had for her stepmother. Leosha stared back at her stepdaughter with equally hidden contempt. It was another of their 'Shakespearean' conflicts, one of at least a hundred that have played out between the two ever since Leosha married Felicia's father, well over fifteen years ago.

Seeing that look now on her stepdaughter's face, Leosha knew this was all wasted effort on her part. Felicia would never see clear to grant her a favor, no matter how insignificant. Yet, she had to at least try for her friend, Monica.

Leosha decided to try logic first, "Look, I know from Stephen that your receptionist is going on temporary maternity leave and that you're going to need someone to answer the phones. Monica needs this job. Just for a little while until she gets back on her feet. It's win-win for everybody. You need someone to man the phones, and she needs a job. She knows it'd be temporary, and that's okay with her. She won't expect any special privileges either, no time off, or retirement set-asides, or crap like that. Just give her the job, that's all I ask. Please, Felicia, I don't ask much and I don't ask often."

"No," was Felicia's curt reply. So much for logic—as if there were any other options between the two women.

"Why not?" Leosha exploded, "Why in the hell can't you just give her this job? Shit, she can answer the damn phones as good as anyone. You don't have to be a brain surgeon to do that..."

"You know why," Felicia answered dryly, cutting her stepmother off in mid-diatribe, "And swearing at me's not going to make your case any better."

"It's the wedding thing still, isn't it? You're going to have to get over that eventually, baby doll."

"Don't call me that, I'm not your baby. And no, it's not just the 'wedding thing,' as you put it. It's for a lot of stuff you did to me over the years. But let's say it is. Let's just say I'm still mortally embarrassed by what you and Monica did. Why should I help either of you after you both showed up at my wedding acting like a couple of Babylonian harlots, wearing those trashy dresses cut down to your navels and almost exposing your...," she couldn't quite bring herself to say the words, and so started on another track, "...Plus, they were white."

"They were off-white," Leosha corrected her.

"They were still white!" Felicia yelled back, "Only the bride's supposed to wear white. You wore those dresses in front of my family and friends, in front of my pastor, my congregation, even the choir; all done just to embarrass me. All the men were ogling you, all the women talked behind my back about my white trash stepmother and her white trash friend..."

As what usually happened when these conversations go on for too long, both women were no longer listening to the other.

Felicia continued to speak, "...I don't trust either of you as far as I can spit, and I certainly don't trust her to work for me..."

"Baby doll," Leosha started to say while purposefully ignoring Felicia, "That was five years ago. Let it go, already. What do you care what a bunch of stuck up 'holy rollers' say about..."

"Because they're my friends..."

"Monica and me are real sorry for that. Truly we are. Both of us wish we could take it all back. We've told you we're sorry a whole bunch of times, if you'd cared to listen. You've got to quite carrying this grudge around..."

"Don't tell me what I can do..."

"This grudge thing is going to eat you up inside. Besides, it's not very Christian of you..."

"Don't you dare use that against me. For all the things you've done to me over the years I think I've been more than Christian toward..."

Leosha heard the venom in her voice and saw the fire in her eyes, and knew she had stepped over the line with her stepdaughter. She held up her hands as a gesture of appeasement before apologizing, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," when she saw that Felicia was beginning to settle down, Leosha tried one last bluff, "Okay, if this is the way you want it. Be a stick in the mud for all I care. I'll just go ask Stephen. It's his company. He'll give Monica the job if I ask him."

For the first time that day Felicia laughed, and said, "You and me both know that you wouldn't be here if daddy was going to give her the job. Daddy has many talents, but running the day-to-day operations of his business isn't one of them. He leaves that to me, because he knows I do a good job. So go ahead and ask him if you haven't already, but he's just going to tell you to go talk to me about who I should hire."

Leosha was about to counter, but Felicia got the pre-arranged phone call from her receptionist, so she waited...And waited. Felicia saw the bile rising in her stepmother as she continued to blab into an empty phone. Finally, Felicia put her hand over the mouth piece after she thought Leosha had waited enough, and said to stepmother, "I have to take this."

Before Leosha could protest, Felicia wheeled around turning her back to her stepmother.

It was a rude dismissal. Leosha had guessed that the phone call was a fake, but she had bit her tongue just in the off hand chance she could continue to plead Monica's case. However, Felicia's curt dismissal while turning her back to her was adding insult to perceived injury. Leosha felt impotent. Nothing she could do or say now would change Felicia's mind, and that's what pissed off Leosha the most about the situation. Felicia was good at her job. She knew it, her husband Stephen knew it, and Felicia knew it herself. Her snotty, goody two-shoes stepdaughter held all the cards.

Out of frustration, Leosha slammed her hand down on Felicia's desk, making a water glass and various desk accessories clink. The slap also made Felicia flinch, but she still kept her back to her stepmother talking into a dead phone.

Leosha leaned over the desk, and with slow, venomous deliberation said, "You're such a bitch!" before storming out and slamming the office door after her.

******************

Monica, the object of Felicia and Leosha's heated conversation, sat in Leosha's car in the parking lot. Like Leosha, Monica knew it was a futile gesture to ask a favor of Felicia, but loved her all the same for trying. When she saw Leosha coming out of the building and saw the look on her face, Monica knew things didn't go very well.

Leosha got in the car slamming the door, then slammed her fist into the steering wheel for added effect.

"Goddamn that little goody-good bitch!" she yelled, then let her voice fade away into a series of expletives.

Monica quickly grabbed Leosha's hand and held it so that Leosha wouldn't hit the dashboard, and said, "Thanks for tying, honey."

Leosha wasn't listening, and continued to fume about Felicia, "That little runt had the nerve to turn her back on me. On me!"

"It was the wedding thing again, wasn't it?"

Leosha nodded her head. She calmed down a bit before continuing, "That, and a whole bunch of stuff from years gone by. I tell you Monica, that girl has had it in for me since day one. We never did see eye to eye on anything...And is it my fault every one of her loser boyfriends in high school wanted to fuck me or be my friend?"

She looked at Monica, who only stared blankly back at her. Monica knew enough not to say anything to her when she was angry. After a while, Leosha continued, "That's what sticks in her craw, now. Not the wedding. Oh no, not that. That's what she says, but it's not that. She knows that at fifty-five both of us are way better looking and way hotter than she'll ever hope to be. Hell, I know we're a better lay than that prissy princess. Besides, who would want to bed that goody-good runt anyway, other than that big, dumb football hero she married? She's so uptight she probably squeaks whenever he sticks it in."

Leosha made 'creaking' sounds while sliding her finger in and out of her fist. Monica started giggling, which got both of them laughing uproariously. Finally, Leosha smiled back at her best friend, and said "Well, she's got the upper hand, now. I'm sorry honey, you backed the wrong horse."

"Don't say that," Monica said, "I didn't back any wrong horse. I'll just take that job at the seven-eleven..."

Leosha wasn't listening to Monica anymore, but was thinking. Every now and again, she muttered something under her breath as if talking to herself, "Turned her prissy little ass on me...Bitch...Yeah, she has the upper hand, now...That goody-girl, bitch...That's what she thinks..."

Monica started to get concerned about Leosha's sanity, and said so, "Leosha, honey you're scarin' me."

Finally, Leosha spoke aloud, but her voice seemed distant as if she were still in deep thought, "Monica, do you still know that peckerwood who deals roofies?"

"Roofies! Leosha, now you are scaring me."

Leosha finally snapped out of her trance when she heard Monica's fear, and said, "Oh, cowboy up, girl. That little goody-girl is playing for keeps, it's about time we do the same. I'm thinkin' it's time little Miss 'prissy-ass' gets taught a lesson—as well as that big, dumb football jock she married..."

"Stewart? What have you got against Stewie? I kind of like him"

"He married little Miss 'prissy go to church,' didn't he? There's got to be somethin' wrong with him."

Monica didn't answer, but sat in silence hoping Leosha would come to her senses. After a while, Leosha giggled to herself, and asked, "Monica, are you still in contact with that niece of yours who moved up to New York?"

Monica was starting to get intrigued, "Xavier, the black sheep of the family?" Yeah. Why?"

Given the sullied reputation of most members of Monica's clan, to be called its 'black sheep' was quite an accomplishment. Monica started to laugh thinking about what Leosha possibly had in mind.

Leosha didn't laugh with her friend, but instead asked in all seriousness, "Think she could come down here for a week? I'll pay her."

Monica continued to snicker, "Leosha, you know as well as me Xavier will do just about anything for the right amount of money. Hell, she's probably done things we never even thought about for free," she paused for a moment and looked her friend dead in the eye, then asked, "Honey, just what do you have in mind?"

Leosha started the car, and said as she drove out of the parking lot, "Something I've been thinkin' 'bout for some time...Something massive."

******************

FRIDAY

Stewart was lying on the bed in his boxers, watching his wife, Felicia getting ready for church. He knew when he married her that she was a very religious girl, and he found it endearing at first. Now, however, it was Friday night, and he thought she was taking her religiosity a bit too far. Then he remembered she always got in these moods whenever she had dealings with Leosha.

'Damn that woman,' he thought. She was always stirring up trouble, and every time Felicia and her got into one of their 'conversations' it would be two weeks before Felicia got her head screwed on straight. Their 'dealings' with each other got so bad that he and Felicia rarely went over to see her father, staying away even for the holidays or family get-togethers just for the fact that Leosha would be there. That was the worst thing about it. Stewart liked her father, Stephen. He liked doing stuff with him, going fishing and hunting, talking sports, talking cars, and now he couldn't do any of that when Leosha was around. Felicia forbad it.

Felicia never understood that about her father, and said as much to Stewart. She could never fathom why he divorced her mother, a good and decent woman in favor of that wretched dime-store floozy. Stewart found that to be the least surprising thing about Stephen's decisions concerning marriage. Stephen liked and married Leosha because she liked sex, period; and she made no bones about telling any and all how much she enjoyed Stephen's bed specifically, and sex in general. Conversely, it was obvious when listening to Felicia and her mother talk that her mother looked on the practice of sex about the same as most people looked on root canal, a painful reminder of life's inherent shortcomings that should be avoided until necessary. As such, Stephen divorced and then married Leosha, much to Felicia's eternal shame and ire.

Unfortunately for Stewart, Felicia inherited most of her mother's sexual scruples. She wasn't totally frigid like her mother, not yet anyway. However, he knew that as time passed her sexual appetites would become more recalcitrant toward the bland, if not outright dreary. He saw this attitude growing in her over the passed few months, after he had his accident. What started out when they first married as a sort of charming, schoolgirl shyness toward sex was fast becoming an almost obstinate dislike of all but the most pedestrian of sexual rite. It was to be missionary position only. Oral sex was okay once in a blue moon, but god forbid you try to kiss her after without gargling; and don't even think of coming in her mouth...Hell doesn't hold a candle to Felicia's anger if you make that error in judgment. Stewart did, once, early in their marriage. It was almost six months before she'd even entertain the thought of going down on him again.

Worse, was the last nine months. It was almost nine months to the day when he was in a severe car accident that left him with a broken hip and two fractured vertebrae. After that, it was six months of him in nearly a complete body cast, followed by three in painful rehabilitation. In all that time he had little to no sex with her, and what he had wasn't very good. Worse, it was becoming obvious that Felicia had been getting used to the idea of not having sex with him, and so it was becoming increasingly difficult to get her to put out. She was beginning to push him passed the limits of human endurance.

Therefore, he found himself watching her prepare for the evening, and still captivated by her looks. She was short and petite, even by most women's standards, with green eyes and a short brown hair done up in a sort of a bob. Her breasts were on the smallish size, and compared to other, large-busted woman like Leosha or Leosha's friend Monica, Felicia's were mere pimples in comparison. Stewart was always reminded of that famous picture of Sophia Loren caught sneaking a peak at Jane Mansfield's breasts at some diner party, with the look of pure, unadulterated envy stamped on Sophia's face. If a picture was worth a thousand words, then that one described Felicia and Leosha's relationship at a glance, and to a tee. As for him, Stewart didn't mind that Felicia had small breasts. He was more or less an ass man anyway; and in his mind, Felicia's behind was her greatest asset, pun intended.

"Could you tell me again why you need to go to church on a Friday night?" Stewart asked, while continuing to stare at Felicia's gorgeous behind.

"For the last time," she said as she put on mascara, "I'm not going to church. There are a few odds and ends I need to do for Pastor William in the rectory. I'll only be gone for a couple of hours. Besides didn't you say you needed to get to the garage and start fixing the mess Julia left for you?"

Yes, he had, but only when he found out Felicia was going to church. His eyes were still trained on her beautifully rounded ass, and even with her panties on he could see them jiggle and bounce ever so slightly as she applied make-up. He'd give anything to stick his tongue between her ripe cheeks. The sight of them, coupled with his thoughts were given him a tremendous hard-on, "I still don't understand why it has to be Friday night of all nights."

Felicia ignored his comment and continued to put on make-up. She heard that tone in his voice. He was sounding like a petulant child in want of something.

"Look what I got for you, honey," she heard Stewart say. Turning around she saw that he had his boxers off and was playing with his sizable erection.

She giggled at the sight of her husband. She had to admit it was a bit of a turn-on seeing him stroking himself, but she needed to get her church duties out of the way first, and said with mock embarrassment, "Oh lord, put that thing away. You'll go blind if you play with yourself too much."

Stewart just smiled back at her, and continued to stroke his tool. He could tell she was excited, so he continued to press the issue, "Come on darlin', I'm all saddled and ready to ride."

"No Stew. I just put on make-up. I don't want you messing it all up."

"I won't mess anything up. Just a quick roll in the hay. It'll do us both some good."

Felicia didn't respond, instead she started brushing her hair. Stewart was becoming frustrated now, "Come on, it's been over a week since we fucked last..."

"Don't say it that way," she snapped at him, "I don't like it when you talk vulgar."

Stewart exploded, "What the fuck difference does that make? How am I supposed to say it?"

"Just call it 'making love' or something...And there's no reason why you have to raise your voice and swear at me."

"Yeah there is, it's been over a week since we 'made love.' There, you happy?"

Felicia ignored his sarcasm, "I told you, we can mess around after I get back."

"Yeah, right."

This time she couldn't ignore his sarcasm, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that when you get back you'll find some other reason why you don't want to mess around."

"That's not true," Felicia whined as she put the hairbrush down and turned to face her husband.

"Yeah it is, and you've been comin' up with a ton of excuses lately as to why we can't have sex."

"It's not all my fault. It wasn't me who smashed into some tree and got myself banged up. How are we supposed to do it when you got your body in a cast?"

"That was done and over months ago..."

"And then you were hurtin' in rehab. Don't tell me you really wanted to do it when you could barely move your legs without a screamin' pain..."

"And that was done and over weeks ago. Besides, we could have done it once the cast was off. It would have been easier if you got on top that way I wouldn't need to move my hips. I asked as much..."

Felicia was getting increasingly frustrated as Stewart continued to box her into a corner, "I don't like it that way, you know that..."

Stewart exploded again, "Oh bullshit! I'm beginning to think you don't like it any way, just like your mother."

It was a tactical warning shot across her bow, which meant, 'You keep playing games with our sex life, then we're going to end up just like your mother and father.'

"You leave momma out of this!" she demanded.

Stewart recognized the look she gave him, and knew he better not push any further or else it would be another nine months before he had sex with anything other than his hand.

Seeing a look of contrition pass over his face, Felicia softened her tone. She got his message loud and clear, and knew he was right. Contrary to what Stewart implied, she wasn't adverse to sex. She just thought there was a proper time and place for it, and right before going to church wasn't one of them. She also knew she had better soothe his ego or else he'd sulk all weekend.

"I know things have been hard on you honey. They've been hard on both of us. I promise, when I get back we can do all those naughty things you been thinkin' 'bout. Okay? I'll even wear that little something you got me for my birthday. Okay?"