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Introduction:

Evelyn is invited to join a very exclusive club, but she must first be interviewed by the admissions committee and explain why she deserves to be a part of SaM's very exclusive club. The series begins with her first night at the club and then progresses through the stories she tells the committee to prove she is worthy to become a permanent part of SaM's Club. The stories are better understood if you have read the previous chapters, but each chapter stands more or less on its own. In Chapter fourteen, Evelyn tells the last of ten tales to show her superiority as a true Mistress.
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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2009 by The Technician Technician666@Gmail.Com.

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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Another jurywoman stood. "Evelyn, it has been said that revenge is a dish best served cold. For you last story, tell us of a time when you waited a long time to put someone in their place."

Evelyn smiled, "Would 20 years be long enough?" She continued, "The insult happened when I was a senior in high school, but my revenge had to wait until our 20th high school reunion a few years ago. Oh dear, I am telling my age, aren't I?"

Pauline and Penelope were co-editors of the high school year book. Most people called them Paula and Penny, but I called them P and P and a lot of other names. They were always looking down on me. They thought I wasn't equal to them and had always tried to turn my friends against me. We spent twelve years in school trading insults and trying to destroy each other. I thought I was ahead until the yearbooks came out.

Because of a delay in printing, the yearbooks arrived late. School was already over and we had already graduated before they arrived. We all had to come back to the high school to pick them up. I found out later, that there had not been a printing delay. Pauline and Penny had somehow convinced the printers to ship them late. They had a way of convincing people to do things that I could never understand. They didn't bribe or threaten, they just persuaded. In any case the yearbooks were late and we all came back to school one Saturday afternoon to pick them up.

There was the typical running around getting all of your friends to sign your book and all of that, but then people started looking at me and giggling. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know what it was. I looked through the book very carefully and finally found what P and P had done. On page 57 there was a picture of the school play. It was me in one of my staring scenes. The description of the play beneath it read normally unless you looked at just the first word of each line. I don't know how long it had taken them to come up with the proper wording to create this, but reading downward from the picture it said, "Evelyn the psycho bitch."

I stormed up to the office and demanded that the yearbooks be taken back and reprinted, but the principal said, "I'm sorry Evelyn, it is obviously just an accident of wording and formatting."

P and P had publicly humiliated me, and there was nothing I could do about it.... then.

Paula and Penny both married into other big money families and then moved out of town. I sort of lost track of them, but never forgot what they did to me. I realized that if I was going to show them up in front to our classmates, it had to be done at a class reunion, and it would have to be something big. It took me several reunions to get on the planning committee and then a few more to make sure that I was the MC for the evening. With my prompting we decided to have an old fashioned reunion in the School gym for our 20th reunion - a real trip down memory lane. It took a little money and persuasion, but we even got a liquor license for the evening.

I used some of my contacts in Hollywood to have two very passable stage masks made for me that looked exactly like Paula and Penny. Since we were all about the same height and build, once I was made up in one of those masks, all that would be needed would for me to have the same dress on as either of them and from a distance no one would be able to tell us apart.

Finding out exactly which dress a woman is going to wear to a reunion sounds impossible, but when you know that they are going to try to impress people and you can bribe even high-fashion designers, it can be done. Not only did I know what they were going to be wearing, I had exact duplicates of the dresses. I was ready.

The night of the reunion came and it was time to call upon my friends and their chemical skills. I had two different drugs for the evening. It was just a matter of getting them into the proper drinks. The first drug was for their husbands. It had two actions, first it made you piss like a firehose, and secondly it knocked you off your ass like you were drunk.

I began with Paula's husband. I casually stopped to talk with him and as I spoke, I spiked his drink. I knew I only had about 15 minutes so as soon as I was done, I hurried out to the classroom where the makeup artist was waiting. Ten minutes later I was Penny, waiting outside the men's restroom. It wouldn't really fool someone in bright daylight, but I only had to fool a drunken husband in the dim light of the hallway.

Paula's husband came hurrying out of gym and into the restroom. As he came back out, I grabbed his arm. "Have you ever missed that one chance we had to make love in the hideout under the stage?" I asked. "Now is our one and only chance." He may or may not have ever had the chance to nail Penny under the stage, but the second half of the drug had kicked in and as they say, "A stiff prick has no conscience."

A few minutes later, he and I, or should I say, he and Penny were going at it in the little room under the stage. As soon as we were finished I said, "Let me leave first so no one suspects." He sort of grunted an OK and I left, returned to the makeup room and became me again.

I was back in the gym before he was and when he came in I could tell from the expression on his face that he wasn't sure what had just happened or what, if anything, he would ever tell his wife. It was time to drop the spike on Penny's husband.

Everything worked exactly the same, except when we went into the hideout under the stage, I was Paula.

What neither of them knew was that our secret little trysts were caught on low light video and were at this minute being processed into a very interesting DVD.

Now everything was primed and ready. As a finale to the evening, I was supposed to introduce a memory segment that would show scenes from our high school days leading up to scenes from our lives today. I had very carefully made sure that I had nothing to do with the gathering, editing or creation of these photos and videos. I wanted to be able to claim total innocence when the shit hit the fan. In reality, I had paid off the video company and everything that happened was strictly the way I wanted it to be. They had an "original master" and plenty of original copies to prove that someone had to have substituted everything, so they were in the clear even though it was really them doing all the work.

There was one more thing I had to do before I started the trip down memory lane. I had to spike both Paula's and Penny's drinks. This was an interesting drug which acts on the anger center. Given the proper stimulation, a person under the effect of this drug will totally loose control. Once they start to get angry, they will go out of control into a frenzy of anger. It was sort of like setting a bear trap and then waiting for something to trigger it.

I set the trap, and I had the trigger. I walked up to the microphone. "If everyone will please watch the big screen at the end of the room, the committee has prepared a special memory DVD for our class. There is a copy for each of you on the side table, so please remember to pick one up before you leave this evening."

What was on the table were true copies of what would soon appear on the screen. The labels were done in advance, and high speed duplicators had spit out the necessary number of copies in short order. This was my moment of revenge.

The DVD began playing and at first it was generic images and short videos. People were more or less paying attention when a picture of me appeared on the screen. It was the picture from the yearbook that had originally started all of this. The description wasn't with it, but everyone remembered the infamous words and soon there was a buzz of conversation drowning out the music behind the slides. That buzz dropped quickly to total silence as the next scenes came on the screen. The sweet background music stopped and was replaced by the sounds of sex. The images on the screen were green and a little grainy, but they were obviously Penny, with her designer dress bunched up around her waist, screwing Paula's husband. Paula began to shout something at Penny when the scene changed and now it was Paula, also with her clearly identifiable dress bunched up around her waste, screwing Penny's husband.

Both erupted. Penny was using language that I didn't think she knew and Paula was kicking and screaming and clawing at Penny's face and dress. Someone yelled, "Catfight!" and people began to clear an area around the fighting women.

Why is it that when women fight the first thing they do is try to tear off each other's clothes?

Pretty soon both Paula and Penny were down to their underwear. The bras went shortly thereafter and despite their husbands fumbling attempts to keep them apart, their bottoms shortly followed. Several of the men at the reunion were shouting encouragement or taking pictures. Most of the wives were asking their husbands to try to stop them. Everyone, however, just stood around and watched the two naked women roll on the ground.

A security officer came running into the gym and tried to pull the apart. He managed to get them to their feet, but was shortly decked by Paula, or perhaps it was Penny. He slid away from the women as they rolled back onto the floor pulling hair and screaming at each other. He pulled his radio microphone close to his mouth so that he could be heard over the din and called for help.

A few minutes later several police officers came hurrying into the gym. They grabbed the girls and got them separated, but with the drug roaring through their systems, P and P were far from calmed down. Penny made the mistake of trying to punch one of the officers and then trying to unsnap the holster of his gun. A loud pop followed by a sizzling sound made it clear that one of the other officers had unleashed a tazer. Penny went down and lay on the floor shaking and quivering. It was obvious from the wet spot between her legs that she had pissed herself, but she still tried to get up to attack Paula. More police finally arrived and both girls were eventually subdued. One of the female officers pulled tablecloths from nearby tables and wrapped them around the still cursing women.

I walked up to the microphone and said simply, "Officers, get those psycho bitches out of here."

I still watch that DVD and the video of that fight every so often just for the warm-all-over feeling that it gives me.

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END CHAPTER FOURTEEN OF FIFTEEN
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1 comments

Anonymous readerReport

2014-05-22 21:59:13
سكسي فارسي

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