HUNTING

BY STRICTNRUFF

[ part 1 ]

It took a special strategy for him to find what he was looking for. That special mix of love and hatred, attraction and anger, sadism and masochism that somehow runs like a golden thread through the lives of certain women. Divorced women, abandoned women.

The kind of women who are, or better said were, totally obsessed by their love for one man. So much obsessed that they'd follow their partner blindly, never questioning, never doubting. Willing to bear His child, seeing Him in their newborn baby's eyes, adoring the baby as it was an intregal part of His love for her.

And then, inevitably, came the day that he didn't come home. Or he came home and made a big fight, telling her that he was fed up with her, or even that he never really loved her, how could she ever have thought...

Following that scene there was desperation, and then hatred, pure hatred. Hatred turned towards herself, how she had been so blind, but much more towards him whom she trusted, who so suddenly dumped her for someone much prettier, someone free, without having to be a nagging housewife, without being responsibel for that damn kid who keeps on whining.

Jealousy, if only she hadn't gotten pregnant perhaps he'd still find her attractive. Anger to be home alone with a nagging kid. And more than that, a kid whose face looked just like him who abandoned her. That hateful face that she once loved. Anger towards him turned into anger towards her daughter, no, his daughter. He meant nothing to her anymore, and neither did his damn kid. Why the hell didn't he take her with him when he left? Every time she looked at her she saw his face. And she saw the hatred of his face that he showed before leaving her. Hatred for her being an obstacle on the road to his new true love.

And yes, that hatred also was present in the face of his damn kid. She'd said it, more than once. "Daddy wouldn't have left us if you'd been nicer to him, it's all your fault he left". The first time she heard those words out of the mouth of their daughter, of his daughter, she cringed, wondering if there was some truth in those words. Later she didn't care, truth or not, it was clear that she couldn't get him back no matter what. And he sure didn't care to see his kid back either. She was stuck with her, there was no way out. Trapped. Trapped to stay home, trapped for not being able to find someone new. What man would care to start a relationship with her finding an 11 year old brat in her home as evidence of her previous life? Sure, she didn't look like a teenage virgin anymore, but that's a long stretch from where she was now... Stuck with a damn kid who should be taught a lesson or two. Who should learn that mothers are nice and fathers are bastards. Why the hell did that damn brat think the opposite? Why had her dad been so nice to her before he left making it even worse for her to accept his departure?

Such type of a mother is what Tim was looking for. Normally mothers tend to be overly protective of their kids, but not in situations like these. Situations when they hated their kids for their insolence, for their blaiming her for the loss of their "holy dad" and for their faces who are a painful reminder of her loss.

Desparate Housewives, Desparate Abandoned Housewives, there are lots of them if you cared to look closer. Surely, none of them would tell you straight in your face how they hated their kids. But it's a matter of observation in simple places like a supermarket. Look at their reaction when their little daughters ask for some breakfast cereal or a candy bar. Or better still, look with longing eyes for such things but haven't the courage to ask. Mothers, always in a hurry, never saying a kind word to anyone, looking tired and frustrated.

That's exactly how he found her, Linda. A 29 year old teacher, tired of being nagged at both at home and at her work. Voices of kids that even terrorized her at night in living color nightmares. Why did she ever decide to become a teacher? She was jealous of her collegues in other states where paddling was still allowed. The only thing she could do was making some biting remarks but most of the time she got a smartass answer in return. Sending them out of the classroom was no option after the principal indicated clearly that such things weigh heavily when decisions on new contracts were made. She hated her work so much that she'd been dreaming of just getting out, taking the next bus out to California, starting a new life on her own. But she knew that that wouldn't work, they'd come after her for having abandoned "her" little girl.

That little girl who made life at home as much as a hell as it was at school. No, she wasn't really that disobedient but those eyes, those damn eyes, His eyes, watching her, observing her, hating her for having "forced her daddy out". She told her a million times that it was him who walked out on her but Heather's silent eyes told her that she didn't believe a word of what she said. There were days that she felt almost able to strangle her, but most of the time she wanted her to suffer just as much as she did, or perhaps a bit more. Why hadn't her daddy disciplined her as so many daddies do? Perhaps then she'd be glad that he left instead of blaiming her for it.

In WallMart he'd met them, first accidentally in the store, later he'd made sure to be right behind them in the check out line. Not that tings were easy: more than once such an unhappy housewife turned out to be unhappily married. Or she'd reply to his avances in the same irritated way that she responded to her daughter's presence. But this time he was lucky: while pressing his shopping cart into the back of the little daughter she briskly turned around and while doing so she wiped some smaller items on the floor. While her mother turned around angrily, he pulled his cart back and picked the stuff up and placed it back. Of course her mother hadn't known that he caused the mishap, and while apoligizing and thanking him she looked angrily at her daughter who didn't dare to reply.

That was his chance to show sympathy for Linda's plight saying that it sure was hard to keep a girl that age in line, and how surely things were easier for her when her husband came along at such occasions? "Dont talk of him: the bastard left me stuck with her" was her brief reply. After showing her a grimace of sympathy he remained silent, not wanting to attract any more attention from the people around them. When they left he quicly paid the package of paper napkins he'd bought and dashed right after them.

"Could I offer you some dinner tonight?" he asked. Linda seemd to think a bit. "I don't even know your name" she said. "I'm sorry, how rude of me, my name is Tim. How about it?" "What are you planning to cook?" she asked. "Well, ehm, to be honest, the only thing I can cook is a phone to get some pizzas ordered" he said. "Well, that's why the napkins", she smiled and said that he'd better come to their house for a meal. "Let's say at eight". She gave him the address and they left.

That evening he came, fancily dressed and with a large bouquet of roses to their house at Coven Avenue. Heather opened the door for him, and he sure liked what he saw. Instead of the thick winter coat and jeans that she'd been wearing in the store, she now was clad in a simple cotton nightie, apparently ready for bed. He formally shook her hand rather wildly, and while doing so observed that there was enough movement in the chest area to indicate that she was a girl in possession of little titties that seemed to wobble along with the movement of her right arm. But for the time being it seemed best to ignore her, focusing on her mom Linda only.

She had cooked a wonderful dinner, and the whole house smelled wonderful. So it wasn't hard to make some honest compliments while offering her the bundle of flowers. She accepted them gracefully and treated him as if he were a long lost friend. During dinner she repeatedly and eagerly replied to his questions and remarks on the hardships of single parenthood. "You're so right", she said, "there are times that that little bitch is driving me nuts. It ain't easy to keep kids like her in line these days!"

He looked at Heather. She looked straight down at her dish, and only the redness of her face and her front teeth biting her lower lip betrayed how she felt at her mother's humiliating words. He rarely saw a girl look more vulnerable, frightened and therefore innocently sexy. He felt a hardon growing and decided to first pay more attention to Linda. It seemed all too easy, but he knew from experience that he'd need to wait if he didn't want to loose all. So he merely confirmed the things she said, confirmning that if one wants a child to behave properly the issues of discipline should never be taken lightly. "That's not easy for a single mother", she said with a cunning smile. It was evident that they had found one another. "Please don't hesitate to call on me, anytime I can be of help I will" he said.

Ignoring the her frightened eyes he openly looked at the little girl in her cotton nighty, sitting right in front of him. Two little points seemed to press against the white material, it wasn't very warm in the room and he wondered if her little nipples stood out from the cold or from fear. She saw him look, and so did her mother. A faint but trumphant smile on her face betrayed how she enjoyed this tiny bit of little girl humiliation. She just knew that this was only the beginning. She'd make sure of that!

After they finished dessert she ordered the little girl to clear the table. He enjoyed looking at her bouncing little titties while she walked back and forth between the table and the dishwashing machine. He tried to see panty lines under the cotton of her nighty but the material was too stiff and too loose to be sure. And even though the nighty was quite short, she always bent down in such a way that he merely saw her in profile, always keeping her panty area covered. Her mother noticed and frowned. In vain.

But then it happened: in her nervousness she hadn't noticed the knife between two dishes, and it fell with a loud noice to the ground, soiling it with some of the mashed potatoes that were stuck to it. In panic the little girl stooped down and in a flash he saw some very bare thigh, very high up almost reaching her buttocks. Linda cursed at her and it was clear that the little girl wouldn't be finished with merely mopping up the potato-morsels. After she was finished she closed the machine and fearfully waited for the things to come.

Linda decided not to rush into things. Sure, she could have ordered her little girl to strip naked for an embarassing spanking of sorts but then there was nothing left to look forward to. But she was eager to make a start. So she called the girl to stand next to her chair, between her and Tim, and then bent her across her lap. As a consequence the nighty rode up, first displaying her upper thighs and then the lower part of her buttocks. She wasn't wearing panties as far as he could see. Or it might be a string!

He didn't get a chance to find out as her mother gave her some intentionally half hearted spanks and then released her. Red faced for shame she immediately bolted up, covering her buttocks by pulling down her nighty in back. "Time to bring the little girl to bed" said Linda, inviting Tim to come along. She sent Heather first up the stairs and pushed Tim right behind her so he would have a good look up her nighty while she walked up. She had tried to refuse by letting Tim go first but of course both adults ordered her to go first. He looked at her only slightly reddened bottom as they walked up. "That will be the last time she'll get off so lightly" he wishfully thought, not yet fully realizing that that's exactly the reaction that Linda had hoped for.