Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold

by Johnny


Blair was still angry over what had happened at the mall the Saturday past.  She had gotten her skirt caught in the trunk of her car and when she tried to tug it loose, she had tripped, the skirt had come off and she had fallen flat on her back.  As she lay dazed as a small group of people gathered about her.

That would have been bad enough but three young women (real bitches too she thought) about nineteen or twenty had kicked her car keys which had fallen from her hand, under a car.  Then while she was trying to retrieve her keys the three tramps had stripped her panties off!  Worse, the trio also stripped her of her sweater and bra leaving her to ride home, naked, humiliated, and angrier than hell.

A few days later, in hopes of making herself feel better, she had posted her experience at a group on the web that dealt with stories about women who found themselves in embarrassing situations.  Certainly her experience more than qualified.

As she had left her e-mail, she got three e-mails from someone she didn’t know.  The first had just a one word, “Hello.”, and an attached picture of a naked woman unlocking her car door.  The second one thanked her for sharing her story and its attached picture showed a naked woman driving her car.  Thankfully neither picture was of herself.

The third one was the most interesting one of all.  In it he expressed his sorrow at having missed her grand showing (his words which did make her smile a bit) and his sorrow at not being there when she evened the score with the three Britney Spears wannabes, as she had called them.  But the best part of the e-mail was the suggestion on how she could do just that, even the score.

For two days she considered if she had the nerve to pull off the idea that he had sent her.  Thinking about how the trio jeered and laughed and stripped her naked in front of a small crowd made her decide yes she did have the nerve.  She spent the next few days acquiring the items she needed for the “sting” and then went back to the mall where it happened to set things up.

As her on-line adviser had suggested, she went in disguise.  Nothing dramatic, just a curly red hair wig, glasses with tinted lenses, and older baggy clothes including a big floppy hat.  Wearing that outfit and carrying a big shopping bag she wandered the mall.

She had described her assailants as Britney Spears wannabes, and the e-mail pointed out that the real Britney Spears had a bit of a tan so any wannabe would likely be hitting the tanning booths to keep that look.  As the mall only had one, it didn’t take long for her to discover that he was right, all them of them tanned once a week and at the same time.

Blair bought a month’s tanning package, and scheduled herself four visits including one which would be at the same time as the Wannabes.  Perfect, three visits to check things out and one to strike.  This would be good.

During her first three visits, she got to know the staff which consisted of two different women, one the age of the Wannabes, give or take a year and the other about her age.  The older woman, a redhead, was very observant and watched who went in and out of the booths closely.  The other woman, a brunette, generally chewed gum and read magazines while working.  Fortunately it would be the younger woman working the on D-Day.

Blair’s stomach was churning and her mind was a twirl when D-Day (appropriately enough it was set up for April the 1st) arrived.  Promptly at 2PM she arrived at the salon and checked in.  The gum chewing magazine reading attendant hardly gave her a glance, simply nodded as Blair went down the hall to the last booth.  Now all she had to do was wait.  As she knew from looking at the schedule when the attendant’s had wandered off to the bathroom, no one else was scheduled until 4PM.  Plenty of time.

The Wannabes were already in the booths and as the salon only had four, that meant all four were occupied.  As was the Wannabes’ habit, they had the booth for a full hour each.  Waiting about fifteen minutes or so, Blair calmed her nerves then simply walked out of her booth and into the one across the hall.  In it was the curly-haired Wannabe Blair had nicknamed Pink.

As she had discovered from observing them the previous visits, Pink would usually nod off counting on the buzzer to wake her up.  Blair had practiced her next moves at home every night since she decided to try the trick sent to her via e-mail.  She scooped up Pink’s clothes, purse, shoes and the towel in less than ten seconds, deposited them in her shopping bag, set her surprise down, and exited the room.

“Christina”, as Blair had christened the oldest looking of the trio, was her next victim.  She had deliberately walked in on Christina the week before so she knew that the Wannabe would be laying face down with her head towards the wall opposite where her clothes would be hanging.  Again she was done in seconds including leaving behind her little present.

“Britney”, the leader of the Wannabes was the last target.  Blair desperately wanted her but she’d be the trickiest of all.  Again by walking into Britney’s booth before, she knew that the Wannabe wouldn’t likely be asleep and that she’d be on her back.  However, she laid with her head pointing to wear her clothes were hanging so she had a shot.  She prayed she’d be able to pull this off.

Boldly going into the room, Blair announced her presence by saying, “Sorry, I need to make an adjustment.”, and fiddled with something on the side of the bed.  Britney couldn’t see clearly with the goggles and as Blair hoped, took her to be the older attendant.

“Shit, can’t a girl get a little privacy without some lezzie trying to sneak a peek?  Fuck the adjustment, it can wait until I’m done.”, she said without moving a muscle and making no attempt to cover herself.

{Wonder if you’ll be as nonchalant about your nudity in oh say ten minutes?}, Blair thought as she apologized for the intrusion and kept doing so while taking the clueless Wannabe’s clothes.  Again a little present was left behind.

{I did it!}, Blair thought triumphantly as she exited the room.  She hurried out of the salon just as the attendant was on her way to the ladies room.  What great fortunate, she’d likely be in there when the next stage of Blair’s vengeance began which would confuse things more.

Walking as fast as she could without attracting attention, Blair hurried to the nearest ladies room.  Once safely in a stall she removed her hat, wig, glasses, and baggy clothes, especially those god ugly shoes she’d bought just for the disguise.  Underneath she had on a normal fitting blouse and tight jeans.  She slipped a pair of sneakers out of the bag, put them on and was ready to go.  Elapsed time?  About three minutes.  She took a black bag out of the much larger shopping bag, hung it over her shoulder and walked out.

She was strolling by the salon, video camera in hand, when the surprises she had left behind went off.  Smoke bombs which of course set off the smoke detectors which in turned set off the fire alarms.  Within no time three naked women came running out of the salon with a fourth woman trying desperately to run while pulling her pants back up.  Apparently the attendant had still been on the john and was as freaked by the smoke and alarms as the wannabes.  Well that might teach her to pay closer attention to her work.

The Wannabes were in such a panic they didn’t even attempt to cover themselves as they came running out.  So Blair got quite a bit of good footage which would make excellent vidcaps, and she knew just where to post the caps.  Though the man who sent her the idea would get a copy first, she had promised herself that much.

On the way out of the mall, Blair stopped by the information desk which doubled as a lost and found.

“I found this bag in the upstairs ladies’ room.  Purses and clothes, probably some teen playing a prank.”, Blair told the old woman in the booth.

“Probably, just had three kids streaking here, maybe it’s their stuff.”, the woman said with more than a trace of disapproval in her voice.

“Very likely.”,  Blair agreed then she walked out feeling better than she had in three weeks.

It didn’t take Blair very long to find the three miserable looking Wannabes huddling between a couple of cars.  She smiled as she took a few pictures with a digital camera then she shouted to them.  They noticed her and all three got that deer in headlights look in their eyes.

“Hey, I found your clothes!  I guess they belong to you.  They were all stuffed in a big shopping bag that some redheaded lady left in the bathroom upstairs.”, she called out.

“Britney” visibly relaxed then tensed up again when she recognized who was speaking.

“Oh shit, why did it have to be you who found them?”, she said with feeling.

“Karma I guess.  Would you like them back?”, Blair asked innocently.

“You bet your fucking ass we do you fucking moron!  What’s the catch?”, “Britney” vulgarly asked.

“You three come out in the open, stand together with your arms around each other but not covering up anything important.  Then I snap a few pictures.  You turn around, bend over and spread’em while looking over your shoulder.  A few more pictures and that should do it.”, Blair suggested.

The Wannabes pleaded, they begged, they threatened, they heard sirens so they caved in and agreed to Blair’s demands.  They posed as she had described, she got the pictures she wanted so she got ready to lower the boom.

“Fine, these will do.  As for your clothes, after I found them I turned them into the information booth on the second floor.”, Blair told them and she simply drove away though not until she got one last picture.  She had to have one showing the look on their faces when they realized they had to walk back into  the mall to get their clothes.

She was pulling out onto the street when she realized she had told them the wrong locale to retrieve their clothes.  {Oh well what do you expect from a fucking moron?}, she thought happily as she drove away.

Another thought warmed her heart.  When the women finally got their clothes back they’d find the wig, glasses, and other parts of her disguise.  She figured they were stupid but not so stupid that they wouldn’t eventually figure out she was the one who had stolen the clothes.

Dismissing the trio from her thoughts, she had one last thing to consider.  All her on-line adviser wanted for his help was a picture of her.  Naked.  But not just naked naked, naked and covering up.  Like she had just been caught coming out of a shower and didn’t have a towel handy.  The old September Morn pose he had called it, a term she’d not heard in quite some time.  Could she do that?  Should she do that?  She couldn’t make up her mind.