Revenge for Hire by Seldom (seldomlasts@yahoo.com) Predator, sadist, sex object, beautiful girl wanting to be loved. Maria. My first glimpse of her was from the rear as she shrugged off a stylish black jacket, thick waves of jet-black hair flowing to rest on an impossibly firm round bottom, improbably curvy for her tiny waist, supported on curvaceously muscular dancer thighs. Delectable curves of over-sized breasts expanded out from either side of her slim back, heavenly orbs so large they were clearly visible from behind. She was extremely short as well as slender and overly voluptuous, not more than five feet tall without her black three-inch spiked heels. She turned after hanging her jacket, revealing a body as spectacular from the front as from the rear. A tiny halter top barely contained those magnificent mammaries, showing a line of cleavage impossibly deep and dark, ending at the mid-riff, hard lines of fit-beyond-toned stomach muscles pulsating gently as she walked. And what a walk. Every straight single man in the bar watched, every man with a girl watched covertly and struggled to continue their conversations. It just so happened the seat next to mine at the crowded bar was recently vacated, leaving the only opening, much to the jealousy of most of the bar patrons. She gracefully hopped onto the stool next to me, gracing me with a brilliant smile. I smiled back politely and raised my glass to her, acknowledging that she was a spectacular and uncommonly gracious and kind specimen of the species beautiful female, but not making an ass of myself by trying to start conversation or offering to buy her a drink. I know to leave girls like that alone; they are not interested in a man like me, and I am self-aware and polite enough to respect that. "Hi! My name is Maria," the girl said in a husky voice with a hint of a Puerto Rican accent. It took me a moment to realize she was speaking to me, since women who look like her don't give guys like me a second glance unless we've annoyed them somehow. I glanced over at her and found her bewitching dark eyes gazing at me expectantly. "I'm Rick," I said amiably. She gave me her hand and I brushed my lips across it. She grinned happily. I couldn't believe what was happening to me. "Nice to meet you, Rick. Buy a strange girl a drink?" she asked, still wearing that delightful smile. I worked hard to keep my eyes from drowning in her vast enticing cleavage. "I'll buy a pretty girl a drink," I tried. Okay, so I was never the best flirt, even when I was in practice. It's been a while. But my hokey line seemed to work, since she made a purring sound and ordered a vodka martini from the bartender, which appeared instantly. It had taken ten minutes just to get around to taking my order. Her face matched her voice and body in beauty, a dark Latin angel with big expressive dark eyes, delicate cheeks and full lips. Looking into her eyes made it easier not to stare at her breasts. She stirred her martini and took a dainty sip. "Small talk time," she said with an unself-conscious grin. "What do you do for a living, Rick?" I groaned inwardly. Here it comes. "I work with quantum computers," I said, dooming this improbable, miraculous conversation from the start. This is where her eyes would glaze over, she would smile and nod blankly, and look for a way out. Instead, "Oh, neat!" She frowned prettily. "What do you do with them? I thought they were just theoretical, aren't they?" I was the one that stared blankly. She had heard of quantum computers? Even more improbably, she was interested in what I did with them? You could have knocked me over with a, well, with anything at that point. "No, not quite," I started, then did a double take. "You know about quantum computers?" It was a stupid, presumptuous question, in our liberated age we should expect women with porn starlet bodies and angelic faces to have doctorates in quantum mechanics yada yada, but that has not been my experience. She frowned again, sadly this time. "Not as much as I'd like to. They sound really interesting, but I've never been that great at math and all that. I've just picked up stuff from ex-boyfriends, reading Discover and stuff." "Ex-boyfriends," I said stupidly. I was getting good at stupid. And here I'd always thought of myself as rather intelligent. She grinned again, a happy, friendly grin, full of perfect white teeth and radiating an easy warmth. "I have a type," she said. My brain gradually cottoned on to the fact that she was flirting with me, impossible as it was for me to accept. "Nerdy and shy?" I guessed. "And chubby," she said, poking a slender finger into my stomach, not exactly flat and rippling with perfect muscles like hers. I was a little hurt and couldn't decide whether to be offended. "Thanks," I said with an unmanly sulk. She laid a hand on my thigh excitingly close to my crotch. "Don't be like that. I like my men smart and cuddly. Is that so wrong?" The man on her other side snorted. A metrosexual straight from International Male, he looked much more the type who should be chatting up a gorgeous babe like Maria at a bar. He had been angling for a chance to break into our conversation and chat her up, so when she drained her martini he put his hand on her arm and smoothly asked to buy her a drink. She smiled at him politely but without the warmth she showed me and graciously declined. He looked surprised and seemed about to protest further, but a flash of her eyes and a quick shake of her head discouraged him. She turned back to me, all warmth and friendliness once again. She started to say something, then paused with a concerned, slightly irritated expression. "Excuse me a moment," she said, patting my hand. She turned back to the would-be stud. "Are you drunk, or just naturally rude?" she demanded, an edge to her honey-coated voice. "Excuse me?" he said. See, I wasn't the only stupid one around her. "I was clearly engaged in a conversation with my friend here," I thrilled to hear her call me a friend, "when you interrupted. Also, so far you've brushed against my thigh, arm, ass, and breast. So I am forced to wonder, are you drunk, or rude? I would choose drunk if I were you," she said with a hard glare. "Um, drunk?" he said. She smiled thinly. "Good choice." She dismissed him with a slightly huffy, yet graceful, turn. He slunk into his drink, told-off and humiliated. I was grinning in spite of myself. It was hard not to like this woman, sassy, straight-forward, and witty as well as beautiful. She arched an eyebrow at my grin. "You liked that, did you?" she said in a low voice, just loud enough for me to hear through the loud bar music. "You were fantastic," I gushed. "I've never seen anyone told off so quickly, or so effectively." She soaked in my compliments, pleased, and leaned into me. "You wouldn't take sleazy liberties like that, groping a stranger, would you Rick?" she asked. "No, not really my style. I'm more likely to ask permission to hold hands." She smiled languidly. "Too bad. I'd let you," she said. Was that an offer? My heart beat faster as the moment stretched out, kicking myself for my awkward shyness, my inability to pick up on a girl's hints, not knowing what I should do when I was sure that to any other man the answer would be obvious. The moment passed. "So, another drink?" she fished. Even if she was just getting free drinks from an easy mark, I didn't care. I was having fun, and she was fantastic company. Buying her drinks, I was getting the better end of the bargain, in my opinion. "Of course," I said, raising one finger to the bartender and taking the liberty of squeezing her arm. It was like squeezing silk-coated steel, a millimeter of give from the fabric of her dress and her skin, then solid, impenetrable muscle, completely unexpected from her slender, graceful arm. "Wow," I gasped involuntarily. Her quick, intelligent eyes studied me intently. She wasn't dismayed or surprised at my discovery or reaction, merely curious, probably born of the confidence of the truly beautiful that no matter what she could always find another man. "Yes, I work out," she stated the blatantly obvious sardonically. "I like it. It just makes you more beautiful and intimidating, if possible." I'd decided to follow her example, no bullshit, throw all my chips on the table and if she walked, I'd go home and commit suicide. I met her gaze steadily with a friendly, open smile of my own. I've been told my smile is rather attractive, and I was hoping she would find it so, though I could never hope to match the sheer dazzling beauty and warmth of her casual grin. "Thank you, Rick. That's a nice compliment," she finally acknowledged graciously. Her eyes flickered to the door, which I'd noticed before and had been hoping against hope was just eye flutter and not a hint she wanted to escape. My heart sank. I was convinced I'd taken it too far and she would run away, graciously of course, ducking out using a perfectly reasonable excuse, but nonetheless gone to the bathroom or out the door and out of my life forever. But I was polite, and ready to take it like a man. Crying and throwing myself off a roof, of course. I kid. Maybe. "I'm sorry, if you're busy..." I say, offering her an easy escape. She cocked her head, startled. "Actually, I am," she said. I must not have done a good job of hiding my disappointment and hurt. She leaned in close, her fragrance intoxicating, promise and sex and friendship somehow all in one breath. "I like you. I'm sorry I'm not here to play tonight." Her voice and her eyes were sincerely apologetic. "I'm on business," she said mysteriously. She pulled a small business card from her purse. She held my gaze as she pressed her moist lips against it and placed the card in my hand. "Please, do call me. And don't do the stupid boy thing where you wait. I don't like games unless I'm playing too." "Believe me, I'll call," I said, too overwhelmed to think of playing it cool. It's probably for the best: I suck at cool anyway. She gave me a peck on the cheek and slid off her stool, instantly oozing sex and sluttiness in her skimpy black outfit and black spike heels. Why hadn't I noticed that raw sex appeal as she was talking to me? She had acted like a human being, a warm, intelligent, interested girl who just happened to be astoundingly, eye-poppingly, intimidatingly gorgeous. Yet I hadn't felt intimidated while we chatted; just the opposite, I was at ease, charming even. I watched one hell of a woman walk away, my dismay mounting when she draped herself over a newcomer to the crowded tavern. He was definitely the type for a woman like her, tall, well-muscled, perfectly proportioned, rugged in a male model sort of way. They had that slightly awkward yet comfortable aura of two beautiful people meeting in a bar just knowing they're going to fuck each other before the end of the night. Don't ask me how I know that aura, because no, I've never experienced it. I accepted that I was just lucky enough to be her entertainment until her real date arrived and was about to turn back to my drink when her eyes caught mine for an instant. I offered a brave smile, trying to convey in one wan expression that I appreciated her company, thanks for the conversation, I understand he's your real man. Her expression didn't change, mysterious and unreadable, but her eyes softened an almost imperceptible amount. Then their arms hooked each other's waists and they disappeared to the other end of the bar. I looked down at the card in my hand. Her pouty lips imprinted one side in lipstick. I smiled a bittersweet smile and flipped the card over. It was just a number in black block print, a local cell phone. I puzzled over that. What was going on? Why hand me an unnamed cell phone number moments before going off and practically dry-humping a total stranger in front of my face? I was about to toss the card away in depression when the bartender caught my eye and shook his head. "Keep it," was all he said. I shrugged and pocketed the card. Apparently he knew something I didn't. What else is new? A few more drinks washed down my confusion and sorrow and lightened my wallet. I got to my feet, a little unsteady I admit. What the hell, I'd walk home. It was a warm enough evening and I could do with some head-clearing. I didn't get far before I head the distinct sounds of human sexual intercourse emanating from an alley. "Oh yes, fuck me, harder!" None-too-subtle invitations from a husky, slightly accented voice. The gentleman in me wanted to politely continue home and ignore the sounds, but just this once the gentleman lost to my self-pitying curiosity. I carefully and quietly picked my way into the alley, where a cleared path showed this was not the first time this particular alley had been used for the highly romantic prospect of an outdoor dalliance, or quick sport-fuck if you wish to be crude about it. A scene straight from a porn movie awaited my hidden gaze. The man had beautiful, elegant, sexy Maria bent over and leaning against the brick wall, his obscenely large member pounding at her exposed cunt, the incredible length glistening in the moonlight with her juices with each incredibly deep thrust. She was hoarsely screaming in lust, gamely bucking her hips back, slamming his thighs with those perfectly muscled bubbles, incredibly firm ass cheeks barely quivering with each erotic impact. Her great breasts swayed beneath her, giant orbs barely attached to her chest slamming and quivering with a life of their own. As I watched she let go of the wall with one hand and began roughly squeezing her own breast, pulling savagely at a long thick nipple protruding from her top. On each thrust his over-ripe balls slammed into her curvy muscular hamstrings with a fleshy slap. If I had a camera I could have made a truly spectacular video of these two magnificent creatures of lust, these gods of fucking in their moment of sexual perfection, until finally with a cry of passion he came in her with great shuddering thrusts, ripples of orgasm quaking both their perfect bodies for an impossibly long time. "Oh fuck yes," Maria gasped, pulling herself free with a slurping squelch. She grabbed his still-throbbing cock and ripped the condom off, carelessly throwing it further into the alley. I wondered incongruously how many condoms would fill the alleyway. "So, what now babe?" he asked with a chuckle. I frowned. His intellect matched his body the way hers did not. Then I heard words I wasn't sure were real. "Now I kick your ass," she said calmly. Apparently he was suffering from the same disbelief I was. "What?" he said stupidly. She stalked up to him like a dangerous yet erotic cat, feline grace and primal predator, stroking his heaving chest with a slender finger. "I said, I'm going to kick your ass," she explained patiently. "I'm going to break that pretty face of yours, and destroy that magnificent cock. Too bad, I am depriving the world of a truly spectacular specimen." She sounded genuinely sad on this point. Incredibly, I was hard on hearing this. Was she insane? I remembered those muscles hidden in her slender figure, but still, he was at least a foot taller and eighty pounds heavier! "What? Are you crazy, bitch?" he demanded, annoyed, swatting her hand away. Maria laughed, still a beautifully delicate tinkle despite her words. Her response was to bury her tiny fist in his gut. He doubled over and wheezed. "You bitch! You're crazy!" he roared. She calmly punched him again, with the same result. He came at her in an angry rush. She easily sidestepped him and slammed her high heel-clad foot into his ear, a perfect standing snap-kick executed faster than I could blink. He slammed into the brick wall with a hard crack. He came at her in a daze, focusing enough to launch one fist into her stomach. She allowed it, and his fist smashed into her gut with a resounding fleshy crack. She smiled at his howl of agony as he cradled his broken fingers. I watched in shocked horror as this slim-waisted, porn-breasted fantasy woman launched a devastating series of punches into his stomach, pinning him against the wall. I heard ribs crack as she mercilessly pummeled him with seemingly impossible force. She stepped back and he fell to his knees, from a seeming giant compared to her down to a fallen, beaten plaything. With a disturbing, psychotic giggle she slammed his head with a devastatingly executed kick. His skull bounced off the pavement with a wet crack. He could take a lot of punishment, though. He woozily got to his hands and knees. She sent him sprawling with another kick, those magnificently curvy legs bunching with planks of hard, lethal muscle, delivering a rib-crunching blow transmitted through her tiny foot. She stalked over to him. "No more, no more," he pleaded, confused and scared by his tiny tormentress. She slipped her foot daintily out of her shoe and pushed it onto his lips. "Lick it," she ordered. Without hesitation the beaten man caressed, licked, fondled, suckled at her tiny perfectly-formed toes as I looked on in erotically-charged, frightened awe. My boner raged at the sight of this miniature woman completely destroying a much larger man, but I couldn't know I had hardly witnessed the beginning of his destruction. Maria grew bored of his fawning ministrations, so in punishment she stepped on and broke his nose, eliciting another scream of agony from her helpless opponent. She slipped her heel back on and knelt next to her pain-ridden victim, for that was what he was; calling him an opponent would be laughable in the face of her complete superiority. "Christina wants you to know, this is from her," she said calmly before punching him viciously in the gut. "Now, she has instructed me to give you a choice, your teeth or your balls?" "What?" he cried pathetically. Maria patiently grabbed his scrotum and his jaw. "Either I take away these," she squeezed brutally on his exposed scrotum, "or I take away these," and she tapped one elegant finger against his bloody teeth. "Quite the conundrum. Either I break your pretty face so you can never get a girl, or I take away your manhood so you never want to. I don't care, of course. The choice is yours." "But, but, what about--" "The fucking?" she asked with a feral grin. "Oh yes, that was just for me. I wanted to have some fun with your cock before I destroyed you. Thank you, by the way. It was great." "Please, please, I'll do anything you want, anything, I'll pay you, just please don't--" She sighed. "Why don't you men ever get it? You're just a job," she interrupted. "I'm already being paid. You will be hurt. Everything else is just fun for me." "Oh God no," he broke down sobbing hysterically, his pleas growing incomprehensible. She was growing impatient. "If you don't choose, I do them both," she said. "That's even more fun for me. Frankly, I tried to talk her into letting me cripple you much, much worse, but she thought that was too far. You pissed her off somehow, but not quite enough. No, don't tell me, I don't really care what you did." She toyed with his huge balls, gargantuan in her tiny hand. "So, you choose yet?" "My teeth, my teeth, take my teeth," he sobbed. "You sure about that?" Maria pouted. "You sure are pretty. I'd hate to destroy that fine face of yours. More than I have already, I mean, but you can fix a nose, cutie." "I'm sure," he gasped. She shrugged. "Suit yourself." She grasped his throat and incredibly, impossibly, lifted him to his feet, her slender arm popping out a flexed, peaked bicep that threatened to rip through her top. Just how strong was this slender psycho babe who crippled men for fun and profit? "Now, stay standing," she commanded, letting him sway on his feet. She gently pushed him back into the wall and stood back, cocking her head as if sizing up the best way to do the job. Then she pulled back one tiny fast and in the blink of an eye sent it slamming into his jaw. Two teeth flew out in a sickening spray of blood. Maria laughed delightedly, then sent her other fist crashing in. She was a machine, sending blow after blow into his rapidly disintegrating jaw, great sprays of blood coating her laughing, smiling features. She kept toying with him long after teeth stopped flying out, her fists meeting less resistance on each bone-crushing impact. I believed she could flatten his skull with her tiny steely fists if she so desired. She didn't just take his teeth, she destroyed his jaw, turning it to unrecoverable mush. She was right, he would never be pretty again, no matter what. No reconstructive surgery could fix what she'd done to him. Finally the sexy sadistic dark little spitfire let him slide to the ground, unconscious and gurgling blood. It didn't look like she cared much if he drowned. She ripped his shirt off and began using the clean parts to wipe up her gory fists and face. That was when I found myself again, found the will to be horrified both at her spectacular sadistic violence and my incredible response, my raging arousal at her splendid little body demolishing his and clearly enjoying the process. She was panting heavily more from lust than exertion, her dark cheeks flush with orgasmic pleasure. I started to creep away when her voice made my blood run cold. "Don't move, Rick," she commanded. I froze in place, my survival instinct useless against her easy power. Maria strode around to my hiding place and eyed me. I couldn't help but be reminded of the way she sized up her victim like a side of meat, an animal waiting to be slaughtered, and shuddered in fear. I had no illusions about my chances against this tiny vixen. "You saw the whole thing." It was a statement, not a question. I nodded. She sighed and shrugged. "Well, can't be helped. I didn't want you to see that, but you did. Sooner or later my guys always figure out what it is I do, may as well be sooner. Still it's a shame, I do think you're cute." She cupped my face in her tiny palm, looking up at me with sadness and an inscrutable emotion. "Are you going to hurt me?" I asked, my voice breaking. Her sadness deepened. "No," she sighed. "Not unless you have a pissed-off ex." I must have looked terrified, because her lips twisted in regret. "That was a joke. I wouldn't take the job. I like you." She patted my boner, still hard despite my quivering terror, helpless in the hands of this beautiful little she-demon. "I think you would have liked me too," she said wistfully. There was a moment of silence then, and I saw her prepare to let me go. Something changed in me then, something deep and fundamental. I'd always thought of myself as a good person, moral, and now I was faced with a whole new morality of vengeance, vigilantism, the depraved overreactions of anger and the justice of the pocketbook. Maria was beautiful, and sexy, and smart, and she could easily destroy a man with no more thought than quashing an insect. And she liked me. There it was, plain and simple. The one fact I could latch onto and keep my sanity after seeing what I had seen. The moment stretched as my maelstrom of emotions and rationalizations raged. Maria saw I wasn't about to run away and shook her head with a bitter laugh. "God I'm so horny. Want to fuck?" she asked. I nodded dumbly. She caressed my face with those lethal fingers and drew my lips down to hers. She kissed me tenderly as she undid my pants and rapidly pulled them down. Agile fingers grasped my pole in a warm firm grip and guided me to her dripping pussy. Then she had me on the ground, pounding me, riding me with rage and intensity and violent thrusts. Her firm round ass slapped against my legs, her tremendous breasts jouncing madly above me. She grabbed my hands and pulled them into the impossibly firm fleshy mountains, heavy and round and solid, springy and slightly yielding. I grabbed and squeezed like a madman, fear and frustration and lust pulling and yanking and twisting the flesh of those massive orbs, those fantastical nipples, groping and crushing and squishing until we both came in incoherent shouts of lust. Maria leaned forward and smothered me in those massive tits, pulling off her shirt and letting hot sweaty breast-flesh surround my face, each massive boob more than a match for my head. I grabbed an engorged nipple and brought it to my lips, latching on and sucking the turgid flesh like a feminine cock, pulling and sucking and licking for all I was worth as her slim hips twisted, her full buttocks ground, and her slick cunt pulsed my cock into submissive hardness, once again satisfying her, more slowly and tenderly this time, her fingers playing over my body even as my lips toyed with her long nipples and enormous breasts. An eternity later found me coming once again, she already past the peaks of many an orgasm. Sex and violence. Violence and sex. Sex and tenderness. Sex and love. Sex and hate, sex and lust, sex and I didn't know or care anymore. She pulled off my grateful dick with an enigmatic smile. Her tiny fingers closed around the hard, sensitive shaft with a gentle squeeze. She moved her full lips down and lapped at my gooey cock, enveloping it in a suckling heat that was almost painful in its exquisitely sensitive pleasure. The loving velvety caresses of her lips nursed my dick to a pleasurable flaccidity, somehow still sensitive but without the intense need for fulfillment. We had already been fulfilled more fully than I had ever dreamed possible. "I still like you," I murmured, not knowing or caring what I was getting myself into. At that point, I wasn't even curious. "It's just the sex talking." Was she playful or sad? Or both? "Probably," I smiled at her and drew her to me. I had no doubt she was stronger than me, but she let me cuddle her without resistance and we kissed a sweet, gentle kiss. She was a predator, a sexy alluring dangerous sadist, a beautiful viper. She was a sex object, a creature of lust and fantasy, built for seduction with all the trappings, the works, a deluxe model of male idolatry. She was a girl, a warm-hearted intelligent woman wanting to be loved and cuddled. She was Maria. "There's still an hour left before last call. I could use a drink," she finally whispered. "Me too," I agreed. I had a lot to think about. I just hoped I didn't spoil whatever this was by talking too much. I already think too much. We picked ourselves off the ground and found our scattered clothes. I was a little sketched out by what we had done in a dirty alleyway, but Maria just shrugged my fastidiousness away and told me to shower with her at her apartment later. The thought thrilled me. As unlikely as it seemed, we were beginning something as we walked back to the bar, hand in hand. "What was his name?" "Does it matter?" It didn't.