Page 3 of Revenge On Her Dad's Best Friends

“I have to do this, Tabs,” Calista said.

“Fine. Let’s go and get you your revenge,” Tabby said.

"Oh, once I figure out where I’m going to put my butt and boobs in this thing, it’s on.” She held up the garment that looked more like it would fit a child’s doll than a human woman.

“I think the secret is don’t breathe and squeeze yourself into it.”

Ten minutes later, Calista plonked herself on the plush white carpet of her bedroom, out of breath, as she blew her hair out of her face.

“Oh my god. I can’t,” she heaved, lowering her back until she was lying flat, in her underwear, one pant leg of the catsuit still attached to her ankle. Maybe she shouldn’t have eaten that whole pie between ordering her revenge outfit and putting it on.

“Get up,” Tabby said, grabbing her hands. “We’re not giving up. You want revenge, revenge is what you’re going to get.” She grasped Calista’s hand and hauled her up.

“Okay, more lube body spray, and maybe some talc as well,” Tabby said and proceeded to enthusiastically douse half her skin in the lubricant and powdered her other bits.

After much panting and puffing, and ever so careful not to poke a hole into the fabric while also trying to launch all of her into the suit, they finally managed to get Calista’s legs in and then shimmied it over her hips.

“Okay. Progress,” Tabby said, then groaned and burst out laughing at the sight of Calista’s elbow bent like a contortionist since they’d now gotten her wrist into the suit and hit a dead end.

Once they were done laughing and had managed to get the fabric up one arm, Tabby made an executive decision to lose the bra. Calista agreed. No way was she taking her one arm out of the suit, so Tabby went snip snip and cut the bra off.

And then finally, she was in. Unable to breathe, but in.

“Try walking,” Tabby suggested.

Calista put one foot in front of her and then the other. At first, she walked like a robot, but her movements became more natural after a while.

“I’m totally pulling this off,” she said, planting her hands on her hips and twirling around as if she were a model on the runway. That confidence lasted all of five minutes before she started jiggling her legs around like a cowboy with a cactus in his butt.

“What now?”

“Wedgie.”

“Ignore it.”

“You’re right.”

She could ignore it all of two minutes before she decided her underwear had to go as well. There was no other way except for her to remove her arms so they could pull the suit to her hips, and then she was able to cut herself out of her underwear. And those were her favorite pair too. Argh.

“Better?” Tabby asked.

“So much.”

Next came the mask. Lady Night had given her a list of instructions, and for them to work, she couldn’t give her identity away until she had them all tied up.

Having no clue, they decided Calista should put on the mask first before she applied mascara and lipstick. And finally, she slipped into thigh-high boots.

“Okay, wow. You look incredible. Calista?”

She rummaged through her tote and withdrew a whip that Lady Night insisted she had to have to complete her outfit.

“That’s KittyHotStuff69, please and thank you,” she said and cracked the whip, which nearly,nearlyhit her back in the face. Okay, so no, she was not a whip-toting dominatrix. But she was a girl with a plan.

Chapter Four

They werenotgoing to have an orgy with an oil baron.

Zachariah Smith and his business partners, Bradford Evans, and Reece Fischer had finally managed to align their schedules so they could catch up in one of their Upper West Side penthouses.

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