POETIC JUSTICE (ADULT, M/F)

Annie smiled as she watched Heather dance for the table, her nipples
hardening in the breeze.  Even with the harem veil covering her mouth,
Annie could see the humiliation in her former rival's eyes.

Not that her ridiculous harem costume covered much else.  Her breasts
were bare, and they bobbled proactively as she danced lasciviously to
the exotic Middle Eastern music.

The translucent harem pants made it clear that Heather was indeed a
natural blonde.

When the Sheik asked Joe if Heather should "pleasure him", Annie nodded
her consent.  Why not?

Heather had once been Joe's girlfriend but she was no longer a threat
to Annie.  Heather was now just a pretty little slave, locked away safe
and sound in the mighty Sheik's harem.

Boo-hoo!

Annie smiled at the poetic justice.  Joe and Heather had dated for
three years, but Heather had refused to sleep with him.

Now Heather would be forced to perform like a 2 bit whore for the man
she had once teased to a frazzle.

Annie reckoned that if Heather satisfied Joe's vulgar male desires it
would relieve the pressure on her.  Annie had dated Joe for 6 months,
and she enjoyed using the promise of sex to wrap her hapless boyfriend
in knots.

Annie had no intention of ever sleeping with Joe.  Like dogs, men
responded best when kept on short leashes.

In fact Annie didn't even like Joe very much.  He was rich, and his job
at the oil company allowed him to ferry her to exotic locations.  But
to Annie Joe was just another feckless male to use and abuse.

Joe was jovial and relaxed the next morning, and Annie knew the once
proud Heather had performed her duties well.  But when Annie produced
Heather's pleading note about the "frame" that had landed her in the
harem Joe tensed.

"You can't show the Sheik that note!" Joe exclaimed.

"She wants me to help her escape!" Heather shot back.  "It's against
the law, isn't it?"  She's a SLAVE!"

"She'll get the whip!" Joe shot back.

"Really?" Heather said, barely able to conceal her excitement. "Do
tell!"

As Heather watched her hapless boyfriend pack her steamer trunks she
made him describe the humiliating details of the bare bottom whippings
the slave girls received.

Joe ordered Annie to destroy the note, but Annie flirted with him until
he agreed to "let her handle it".

Annie smiled.  JUSTICE would be served!

The thought of her rival stretched over the whipping bench caused Annie
to tingle with delight.  Before giving the incriminating note to the
Sheik Heather scribbled a farewell note to her former rival:

ROSES ARE RED 
AND SO IS YOUR FANNY 
THEY'LL WHIP YOUR ASS GOOD LOVE,
YOUR FRIEND ANNIE

"Ah, poetic justice", Annie chuckled.

Annie was stunned when the dogs at the airport found the bag of white
powder in the bag.

As the police led Annie to the slave market, Joe chuckled as he
reflected on just how poetic justice could be.