Mean Mean Girls

She deleted all of his messages except for this one voicemail (about his thirtieth and the last one received before the chop) where the wretched guy just loses it entirely, he breaks down and through a cacophony of loud, pathetic sobs he begs and pleads with Cindy to get in touch and to please please please give him another chance. It goes on for a fucking eternity!

Cindy has saved that final message because it amuses her (and me) to listen to it now and again. It also kind of turns Cindy on to hear a man in such a desperate state purely because of her. Like, the other day she played it on high volume through our state-of-the-art Bose system and as we were lolling around in fits of giggles I could tell that she was getting as horny as hell.

I was feeling a little that way myself and so, seeing as it was too early to hit a bar and get ourselves some dick, I went and lay next to her on the sofa and we undressed and brought each other off with our fingers. Cindy and I are certainly not what you would call 'lesbians' or 'bisexuals', you understand, but we do quite enjoy doing stuff like that from time to time, and the two of us had ourselves a lovely orgasm to the soundtrack of this confused and heartbroken soul railing and blubbering about getting the boot.

We climaxed at more or less the same moment. It was just at the point where the guy blurts out some hysterical crap about possibly killing himself. Perfect timing since that is how the message ends and it is also perhaps the bit we like the most!

So, yeah, that is that guy now well and truly dumped.

The irony is that Cindy would probably have carried on much longer with him if he had not gone and pulled that stupid 'leave the wife' stunt. She quite liked him, she told me, but the idea that she could make a man walk out of his twenty year marriage and then promptly ditch him was simply too thrilling to pass up!

I offer this just as a particularly amusing example of what complete and utter bitches we can be when it comes to finishing with these dummies who we date. It is not the cruellest example by any means. Both of us have done a lot worse, lol.

**

Occasionally me and Cindy will double-date. Not often, it's easier to keep things separate, but we do team up sometimes and that can be double the fun because then both of us girls get to be appreciated up close by both of the men. It's cool to see each other in action, as it were, and to see who can be the biggest cocktease!

It also creates the opportunity to indulge in various other devious and naughty games.

Like, one time I had this real loser amongst my retinue. Nigel. He was a weedy bespectacled little guy who would hardly say boo to a goose. He had drunkenly approached me in a hotel bar and I immediately smelt blood. Here was a torture toy if ever there was one. So I shocked him by agreeing to let him take me out one night the following week. I suggested the most expensive restaurant in the city (world renowned) just to make sure that he was prepared to spend serious money. He was happy as larry with that.

A few dates in and he was working out exactly as I had hoped and expected. The guy was spellbound by me and also very timid. I had him completely under my thumb. So much so that I was letting my utter contempt for him show when we went out. Like, I was doing my usual terrible teasing, obviously, but in his case I was not even bothering to hide the fact that I was purposely tormenting him with it.

I was being nasty to him in other ways too. I would make lots of snide bitchy little remarks at his expense, belittle and make fun of him, kind of boss him about. He would sit there and take it because he worshipped me. He was just so bowled over that a girl several fathoms out of his league would spend time with him, even if her goal seemed to be to treat him like shit.

At that same time, Cindy happened to be dating this guy Bruce, who was the complete opposite of Nigel. Bruce was a rich, successful businessman with a weakness for pretty girls. He was a little less vulnerable than most of our marks. This guy was used to calling the shots and he thought he was doing so with Cindy, lol. They'd had a couple of assignations and he could hardly wait for the third.

"He definitely thinks number three is the one," Cindy said, as we were engaged in one our 'compare notes' sessions.

"Poor thing. How about number never," I smirked.

Cindy giggled. "Yeah, rules are rules. Mind you, if I was ever gonna break them."

"Really?"

"Mmm. He's not bad for fifty. Here, take a look."

She fiddled with her phone and tossed it to me. I checked out the photo. Handsome guy, I had to admit. Tall, good shoulders, looked in shape.

"See what you mean, babe. Dishy!"

"But still fifty," Cindy said.

"Ah well. Hey, wanna see Nige?"

"The dork? Yeah, babe, show me."

I did and Cindy cracked up. "Oh my god, rather you than me."

I giggled. "I know. Total spaz. But it's cool. It means I can be really fucking mean to him and he just sucks it up. I'm being such a little monster with this guy! I've started calling him Pooch, told him that's his new name cos it suits him. Seriously. I have the poor sod answering to it."

"Your little pooch. Ha ha ha. I love it."

"Pooch or variations. Poochy, Poochy Pie, Poochy Poo, whatever. I called him Poochy Poo Poo in front of the waiter at Zefferellis last time."

"No!"

"I did! You should have seen the colour his face went. Poor guy just about died with embarrassment!"

Cindy giggled. "You bitch, Em."

"Just wait until next time. Only gonna get worse for the poor guy I'm afraid." "When is the next time, babe?"

"Seeing him on Thursday."

"I'm out Thursday too. Number three with old Brucie."

"Mr Dish! Hey, Cindy, no sliding. Rules are rules, remember."

"Don't worry, babe. You know me. Just gonna keep teasing the shit out of him. Speaking of which, I might break out that little pink dress I got on Saturday."

"Oooo yeah. That will do the trick. You look so fucking hot in that, babe."

"Why thank you, Emma! Yes, I know I do. It'll kill him. So what you gonna wear for Nigel? Sorry, for Poochy Poochy Poo Poo?"

"Dunno. Probably one of my black leather numbers. He brings out my dominatrix side, I find."

"Nice one, babe. Don't forget the whip."

"Ha ha ha. I reckon he would let me if I wanted to. Guy's a born submissive. He'd probably pay for it. "

"It's a thought, babe, isn't it."

"It is, yeah."

We joshed around a bit about that. The idea of me luring Nigel into abject slavery. Maybe I could start bringing him back to the flat for me and Cin to abuse. We could strip him and tie him up and whip him till he's screaming and begging for mercy, then just laugh and whip him some more. Maybe torture him in some other ways too. Trample on him perhaps. Piss on him. Make him do horrible degrading things for our entertainment. And charge him a ton of money for the privilege, lol.

All fantasy of course. Nigel would at no point be coming anywhere near the premises. Neither of us ever bring a man home after one of our 'dates' and we do not go back to his. That is verboten. Simply too dangerous when we will not be granting him sex. It could get out of hand or backfire, even with a pathetic character such as Nigel, and that would be completely unacceptable to us. Cindy and I need to be in total control at all times.

The guys we mess with never even know where we live. They have a mobile number and that is all. If they had our address they might cause us trouble after they have been dumped. Like, rather than content themselves with suicidal messages on voicemail (lol) they might do tedious things like post us actual letters and stuff, and when that fails start to hang around at all hours in the lobby just waiting to pounce. No thank you!

So, whips and chains were out. Never mind, because Cindy now floated an alternative idea for how I could amuse myself with Nige on Thursday. How we could amuse ourselves, rather, since it involved Cindy too. And Bruce.

We talked about this idea of Cindy's, and the more we fleshed it out the more I fell in love with it. Yes, why not, lol. It just needed a change to Thursday's plans. We had to go out as a foursome, me and Nigel, Cindy and Bruce. I assured her that Nigel did whatever I wanted, full stop, but what about Bruce? Cindy said she'd talk to him.

He was totally cool with it as it turned out. Guess he was confident in his ability to seduce Cindy regardless, because according to Cindy the planned presence of her flatmate with her own date did not appear to faze him one bit.

Game on!

**

Thursday arrives and we go to a nice restaurant. We sit on a square table with me opposite Nigel and next to Bruce who is opposite Cindy. At first we act normal. It's pretty much what one would expect from two couples having dinner together. Bruce probably picks up that I am a little perfunctory and superior in how I treat Nigel but it's nothing too remarkable.

As the evening progresses, however, I lose all interest in Nigel and I get more and more friendly with Bruce. He is Cindy's date of course and she is clearly into him, she is flirting for her life, but I am now romancing him too. A meal that started out as a foursome has by the arrival of the main course become a definite three plus one. Us two girls are shamelessly concentrating all of our attention on Bruce. He's our object of desire, the rock star, and Cindy and I are competing for him like a pair of determined groupies.

Nigel is rudely excluded from the conversation apart from the desultory crumbs that one or other of us tosses his way from time to time, just for the sake of appearances. When we do deign to notice him our attitude is increasingly dismissive and patronizing. Bruce has tuned into the vibe from Cindy and (especially) me and is going along with it. All three of us are quite blatantly treating Nigel as a person of no account.

As we settle into the main course, social interaction with the gooseberry peters out entirely. Bruce and Cindy and I simply relax and enjoy ourselves and pretend that Nigel is not there. Nigel is the invisible man. We do not speak to him and we play deaf to the little contributions he tries to make. Before long he stops trying and is condemned to sit and stew in an awkward sullen silence.

Bruce picks up the wine and tops up me and Cindy. "Thank you, hun," we both say, favouring him with our best pouty smiles. He pours the rest out for himself, meaning that we three have nice large full-to-the-brim glasses of the very excellent wine to go with the remainder of the meal and Nigel, once he has seen off the miserly dregs he has left, will have to make do with the mineral water. Poor guy really needs a proper stiff drink too, lol.

He finishes his food well before us since he has nothing else to do but eat it. We take our sweet time with ours, doing far more drinking and laughing and talking than eating. We are thoroughly relishing the meal and wish to prolong it. Are we aware that the longer it goes on the more of an ordeal it is for poor old Nige? Yes we are and this only adds to our enjoyment.

The avid chattering and flirty banter carries on as we stretch out the last remnants of our main course. And we really do stretch it out. Cindy spends a full ten minutes toying with her final piece of fish before she eventually consumes it. By the time Bruce summons the waiter to come and clear away, Nigel has been staring gloomily at an empty plate for over an hour, lol!

Bruce has not been informed of our demon plan, nevertheless he is obviously fine with how this is playing out. Cindy predicted that he would be and she was spot on. He's becoming ever more loud and expansive and confident. He is enjoying his evening immensely. He loves it that he seems to have the inside track on the other girl as well as his own. Both of them are hotties, let's face it! So, you know, sorry Nigel old pal, nobody said life was fair.

Besides, Bruce has sized up the 'competition' and is pleasantly conscious of the mismatch. He feels smugly and massively superior to Nigel. When Cindy had called to arrange this event she had warned him that the other guy was not exactly scintillating, had confided that she could not understand why a girl as stupendously pretty as her flatmate was dating such a dork, and now that he has met the two of them neither can Bruce. The flatmate sure enough is a real honey, but as for this Nigel, what a fucking saddo! Ok, seems a bit mean what's happening here but the guy is just so eminently ignorable.

Bruce's only possible reservation about the scenario would have been if Cindy was getting upset about her sassy little flatmate muscling in on Bruce at the expense of her own date and such does not appear to be the case. Quite the opposite. Cindy seems perfectly content with how things are going. For Bruce it had been all about getting her into bed tonight but his ambitions are starting to grow. Perhaps a three-ball is not out of the question? Perhaps he can bed the lovely Cindy and this lush, equally delectable babe Emma too!

Cindy predicted this also. Not too hard, I guess. That's the biggest single common characteristic of men. Predictable. LOL.

The waiter brings dessert menus and leaves them with us. Bruce says he'll go for the panna cotta. "Ooo great choice, hun, me too," I say. Cindy announces that she will try the chocolate gateau.

Nigel clears his throat to say something but I leap in before he can.

"I think you should skip it. Getting yourself a little paunch there."

"Really?" he pipes. His voice is high and strained. Unsurprising since this is the first thing he has said in a long long time.

"Ah the man speaks!" Bruce drawls, unhelpfully.

Nigel manages a weak grin. He's seeking to curry favour even at this point. It's quite pathetic. This is turning out to be even more fun than I imagined!

"Yes, Pooch, really," I say.

"Um, Emma," he mumbles, face reddening.

Cindy is giggling. "Yeah, Em, honestly."

Bruce is not quite sure how to react. His mouth is twitching. He wants to grin but is fighting it.

"Pooch?" he asks, eventually, glancing at me. He is clearly amused.

"Emma likes to call him that," Cindy explains.

"Er, right," says Bruce.

"Kinda suits him, baby, don't you think?" says Cindy, and she winks at Bruce.

Bruce smirks at her and then at me. It is as we thought. He is more than happy to partake in this particular sport if he sees that the girls are amused by it. He gazes long and hard at Nigel, savouring his acute discomfort. "Guess it does," he says.

I grin wickedly and suggest that we all call him that from now on. Bruce and Cindy laugh and say sure thing.

Nigel has not exactly enjoyed the meal so far, but the dessert stage he enjoys even less.

I'm serious about the 'no pudding for Pooch' dictum so he doesn't get any. "I have him on a diet," I tell the smirking waiter as we order for three.

The dynamic has altered and not in a good way as far as Nigel is concerned. Having ignored him during the main course we make him the abject butt of our cruel, cutting repartee as we deal with pudding. We do nothing but make merciless fun of him, and all the while he sits there mute and shame-faced, fidgeting about in his seat, too intimidated by us to stand up for himself. Which of course only eggs us on, lol.

Bruce is especially diabolical and funny. If anything he exceeds expectations. Turns out that he's a malevolent bastard and he is in his element with this. We girls chip in maliciously from time to time but are mainly happy to just sit and giggle raucously at the crushing lines which Bruce is coming out with.

The three of us have a ball tormenting our hapless helpless stooge. We are simply persecuting the wretched man now and loving every minute of it. The small amount of self-esteem that Nigel possesses is rapidly draining away. We can see it happening. He seems to be physically shrinking.

Cindy decides that it will be rather amusing to tease the stooge with her gateau. "Aw I think Poochy Pie really wanted pudding," she coos, getting some cake on her fork and wafting it playfully under Nigel's nose before popping it into her mouth and loudly pronouncing it absolutely yummy and utterly delicious. She repeats the hilarious performance a few times, me and Bruce in stitches.

Several other customers have noticed what Cindy is doing and are either studiously ignoring the spectacle or in a few cases are sniggering.

When it comes to the last piece Cindy tells him to beg for it "like a good little pooch." She tells him precisely what she wants him to say and it's about as demeaning as you can get in a public place.

Nigel looks pleadingly at me but I simply grin and nod my approval. So he goes ahead and begs Cindy for this last piece of cake.

She smiles sweetly and moves the fork very slowly towards his mouth, says "here you go, Pooch," but it doesn't happen. As he opens up to receive she giggles gleefully and whips it away and feeds it to Bruce instead. "For you, honey," she says.

We're laughing like crazy and we notice that some of the people on other tables are openly laughing now too. Not so funny for Nige, though. Nige is almost drowning in the humiliation of it.

Bruce says he needs to make a visit to the restroom. As he passes behind him on the way out, the bastard ruffles up Nigel's hair and then raps his knuckle on the top of the poor thing's head. Nigel emits an odd little noise and looks around wildly, his glasses sliding comically down his nose. He grimaces and hurriedly replaces them.

Then the tightest of attempted smiles in a bid to show the watching strangers that this is all just harmless fun, that he isn't a sad sack getting remorselessly bullied and tormented by his dinner companions, but I doubt that many are fooled.

While Bruce is away, Cindy and I ignore Nigel and have a nice girly chat about this and that, including what a hunk we both think Bruce is. I tell Cindy how envious I am of her that she's the one dating him. Cindy turns a contemptuous gaze on Nigel and says she understands why.

When we see Bruce returning, Nigel thinks he may be in for another unwelcome tap on the skull and he kind of tenses up and looks nervous. Bruce notices and grins. He makes as if to do it, making Nigel cower, but then doesn't. He just flicks Nigel's ear instead. It's very funny and he is rewarded with appreciative giggles from the girls.

"Coffee and liqueurs, ladies?" Bruce says, when he's in his seat again. "Oooo yes please!" we say. The look on Nigel's face is priceless.

Bruce signals our waiter and does the honours. Three coffees, a brandy for him, tia marias for me and Cindy.

"He still on that diet then, miss?" the waiter asks me, grinning and sneaking a look down my blouse (where there is plenty to see and appreciate, lol).

"Sure he is," I reply and I smile up at him and wink, shamelessly flirting.

The waiter swells up a little. Probably made his day, poor creature.

Over the coffee and drinks we get back to ignoring Nigel. We're bored with taking the piss out of him, at least for now. Nigel is clearly relieved at the respite. He looks almost happy, lol.

He does not look at all happy, however, when I suggest that we all go on to a club. Bruce and Cindy are well up for it but Nigel, not so much.

I get a bit stern with him. I tell him that he is my date and he is damn well coming along. I soften it by hinting that at the club things might get a little better for him than they have been so far, and that does the trick. If he could have seen what my hand was doing under the table at that moment (which was gently squeezing the inside of Bruce's thigh, rather high up) then he might not have been so hopeful.

When the tab comes Bruce insists on settling the entire amount, rather than splitting it with Nigel. Only fair, he says, since he seems to be the guy having all the fun this evening.