Chapter 270: Nancy’s Revenge

Eric and Paul sat at the bar a half a mile away from the castle, and they were both half-drunk. “You aren’t much of a man,” Paul scolded. “A real man knows how to keep his woman in her place.”

“She has a very strong temper,” Eric growled.

“Perhaps that’s not it.” Paul snicked. “Perhaps you are having problems.... Down there... There are dr*gs for that, you know? Have you ever heard of Viagra?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Eric hissed, “You and I both know that isn’t the problem. You and I have gotten into enough trouble together that you should know better than to even say that!”

Paul sighed and finished what was left of his beer. He belched contentedly, and then he said, “Ahhh, those were the days... When a man could be a man, and a woman knew better than to say no.”

“You can say that again.” Eric sighed. “I have a suggestion,” Paul popped up. “Get her drunk and dr*g her. Then make a video of you assaulting her. Then, when she wakes up, you can show her the video and show her what a despicable slut she is. After that, she is sure to comply.”

Eric squinted. Why didn’t I think of that? - he thought.

“What do you think?” Paul asked. “It’s a good idea, right?”

Eric laughed and said, “Paul, do you know your nickname?”

Paul frowned. “What is it?”

“Paul, the rat.”

Paul pondered this for a while. Am I a jerk? - he wondered. It was a thought that had never occurred to him before. “Who called me that?” he asked. “Was it your wife?”

“It was your ex-wife.” Eric smiled and said, “I would have thought it was obvious!”

“Hey! What gives?” Paul glared at Eric. “I’m giving you good advice. Must you insult me? You should be thanking me!”

“Thanking you?” Eric scoffed. “I can’t dr*g my wife. I don’t have the dr*gs!”

“Is that your problem!” Paul laughed and said, “Shall I get you some good, myrtle? I guarantee that it will be colorless, odorless, and tasteless.”

“Thanks.” Eric smiled. “I’ll leave it to you.”

****

Nancy tossed and turned all night. She could not stop thinking about her father, who had been in a car accident, Clark, who had stayed with Michelle, her mother had run away with some other man, and Paul, who was a jerk. How can I sleep with all these troubles and worries? - she wondered. She suspected that she was going to be depressed the next day.

If she saw Paul, she swore that she would torture him.

Eventually, the sun came up, and she got up and went downstairs.

****

The first thing Nancy heard when she came downstairs was Paul snoring away on the couch. “What the fuck is he doing down here?” she muttered. His hair was disheveled, and he smelled of alcohol, so she guessed that he must have been drunk when he came in. As she approached him, her ire began to rise.

“Paul!” she hissed. “Wake the Hell up!”

There was no response from him, which was not a surprise. Paul typically slept like a log when he was drunk, and even after you woke him, he seldom remembered what had happened.

“You are a Rat!” she growled, and she gave him a tentative kick in the ribs. Then, when he was still unresponsive, she became emboldened. She went straight to his head and crushed his face with a pillow.

Suddenly, Paul could not breathe. He felt like a mountain was pressing against his face, but his brain was so muddled that he could not fight back.

Nancy had wanted to kick Paul for a long time, and now that she had done it, she regretted that she was wearing slippers. She looked around, and she noticed his big shoes sitting at the foot of the bed. She smiled as she kicked off her slippers and put his shoes on. Then she pulled the pillow away, lifted her foot, and stomped on his face.

Paul grabbed Nancy’s foot - as a reflex - and he pushed her so hard that she nearly fell on her ass. “You r-r-really crossed a l-line this t time,” he stammered drunkenly. “I am g-going to k-kill you for this!”

Nancy stumbled backward, but she caught her balance at the last second. She turned to Paul, and when she saw that he was serious, she ran upstairs and grabbed a pair of scissors from the bathroom. Just in case he manages to come after me- she thought. She waited for a while, and when he did not come after her, she snuck downstairs to check on him, only to discover that he had passed out again. Well, well, well - she thought - Such a dirty man should be punished!

She cautiously approached Paul, and when she reached the couch, she began to cut his clothes. The first thing she did was cut the crotch out of his trousers. Then she slipped a hand into his underwear and pulled out his genitals.

Nancy wrinkled her nose at the sight of his shriveled-up worm, and she covered it with a pillow. Even with them covered, though, he could smell the musky smell of his genitals, and she cringed in disgust. Never mind that - she thought - You have bigger fish to try.

Nancy smiled as she cut into Paul’s shirt. When she was done, she put the scissors in Paul’s hand. Let him make of that what he will - she thought giddily.

Dawn had come, and the sun was shining through the window. Throughout the house, Nancy could hear the servants preparing the house for the day, and she ran out the front door before any of them could figure out what she had been about.

The morning air was cool and refreshing, and invigorating. She felt particularly good about what she had done to Paul, but in retrospect, she wished that she had stabbed him in the heart. If she had done that, there would be nothing to stand between her and Clark.

When the servants saw Paul lying on the sofa with his genitals exposed, they were shocked. They saw the scissors in his hand and asked each other, “Why did he do this?” and, “If he was drunk, how did he make such precise cuts?” They could not believe their eyes, and before long, every one of them had made their way to the living room to inspect their master’s manh**d.

Gradually, Paul opened his eyes. His head hurt. The room was spinning, and it took him a full minute to get his bearings. It surprised him to discover that he was not in his bed and then that his servants had surrounded him. Their eyes were wide open in shock, and they seemed more surprised to see him than he was to see them. What is going on? - he wondered worriedly. “What are you all looking at?” he growled. “Get back to work!”

The servants looked away shame-faced and scurried off to their regular duties.

Paul had a terrible headache. He had drunk so much the night before that he could not remember anything that he had done.