The Sweetest Revenge

Another little flash fiction (1000 words) I wrote. Can't say it's all that good, but don't think it's too bad. Nothing complex here. With the word limit I'm missing some exposition. You might like it... or maybe not. Either way it's free, right? :)

Find the tags below folks.

EDIT: Oh! Forgot to mention the summary. It's about a pre-op transwoman prostitute's plan to avenge the betrayal of a police officer by sleeping with his blind wife. See? Nothing complicated.

"Oh Sawyer..." I said sweetly, dragging myself along the wall of Ashton Sawyer's apartment.

I still clutched the silver revolver I used to cap that traitorous, rapist, half-a-bitch, Kendra.

After she'd forced that baby dick of hers up my ass, fucked me, and bust her nut, she tried to finish me. When she eased her dick out, I popped up and broke her jaw. Then she pulled the heat. BANG! Bitch didn't know what she was doing. I knocked her down, snatched the burner, and educated her. BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! This last one is for that pussy, Ashton.

Kendra was my best friend. Never thought she'd become Ashton's lackey. Stupid fucking bitch! I slammed my gunless fist near the threshold before staggering into Ashton's kitchen. I was just as stupid for not realizing it sooner. Not that the pussy wasn't home from patrolling the streets, that Kendra was all on his dick.

She wanted a man to see her as a woman. Not some fag on hormones with fake tits. I wanted that too. Enough to give Ash half the bread we earned sucking cock. Really, I wanted to finish my transformation, and he protected us.

I would've rather been caged or dead than to toss him another dime. Streets was rough and piggies was rougher, but all Ash did was take. Yesterday, I decided our partnership must end. Stupid thing was I told Kendra what I'd planned. Needed another now.

I hobbled to the plastic chair at the cluttered kitchen table and slumped into it. If Ashton returned, I could drop him quick. The front door was parallel to the kitchen.

The electronic clock atop the fridge read: 10:28PM. I pointed the revolver toward the door. Four minutes passed, I lowered the gun and stood. Ashton had a wife and daughter. Didn't want to waste this bullet on either.

I stormed into the den and switched on the end table's lamp near the sofa.

"Messages..." I started the answering machine. One of the messages was from the babysitter watching Ash's kid. They went out to eat. The last was from wifey. She was planning an anniversary surprise at Hickenbottom Hotel. That got me thinking. First, I needed suitable clothes, and searched until I found Ash's bedroom.

I donned a blac