Another sleepless night

I start stuffing bags again, chugging water every time I fill a box and start over. I hear a door, then a toilet flush. There is an unceremonious thump of a body slamming into something, then a door again. I keep toiling away, finding a rhythm and time goes by a little faster. Eventually Victoria’s phone dies and the music stops. Things feel eerily quiet. I hear something like a faint thump from the direction from Victoria’s room. It wasn’t loud enough to be a body falling out of bed, so I keep working. At 1:00 am I estimate that I am half done, but really need a pick me up, so I dig through cabinets until I find tea bags. I heat a mug of water and eagerly await some caffeine.

As I sip my tea, I decide I had better make sure Victoria hasn’t vomited on herself. The dark part of me would enjoy her making a mess on herself, but sober Vikki will blame anything she can on me, because that is how she protects her self-image...

I knock. “Victoria?” No answer. I enter to see two unexpected things. The first is that in addition to the nightstand lamp that I had left on, now there is a laptop casting a diffused white across her body, lying next to her on the bed. The other thing is she is passed out, but wearing her gala dress again. What the hell? I check her and she seems okay, though unresponsive. It is obvious by the way her dress is vacuum-sealed around her proud nipples that she is not wearing underwear this time. I stand and drink in her whole form, inch by inch, feeling my desire build.

I spin the laptop around and look at it. It is logged in on an email site. She passed out while writing an email that never got sent. I start to read the message. It is full of drunken typos, teasing someone about what they will get to see at the gala. Is this THE guy? Her gala date? Is this the guy she wants to seduce with her new dress? The dress she tested on me? When I fell over myself telling her how she made me feel, was she imagining HIM saying it to her? My anger ball is getting white hot.

There is an attachment at the bottom of the email. It is a grainy picture from her laptop’s camera. It is Victoria in her dress, lying on the bed in poor lighting, her hair and makeup no where near her usual standards. She looks like a hot, drunk mess, sexy as fuck, but damn, get it together. No doubt she would wake up horrified to to see what she had almost done and delete it instead. I hover over the send button. One click and she will have an extra regret to live with, and a permanent reminder of what a shit show of a drunk she is. Then I think about the difficulties I had reading emails in the office when I was sleep deprived. That gives me an idea.

I save a draft of the current message and look at the previous messages. They go back a few months, lots of innuendo and promises to do things to each other when the meet up, a few teasing pictures from Victoria, a few dick pics from the guy. I take the laptop into the kitchen to get to work.

The intended recipient’s email address is a string of random characters. That is not very colorful, or fun. Give me a bigschlong@whatever, or something!

I make my own email account on the same service that these two are using, just one character different than the mystery guy’s. Since his address is random characters, it is trivially easy to make them look alike. From Vikki’s computer, I copy the past email chain and send it to my new imposter address so I can spoof the message history. Then I open the saved draft that Vikki had started, attachment included, and send it to my imposter account. To her, it will look like she sent the regrettable email to mystery man, when she really sent it to me.

Then for the other direction... Victoria was going by ‘vixenprincess’ so I made another account called ‘vixxxenprincess’. Then I duplicated the regrettable email plus attachment, adding a prominent line at the beginning that ‘Oops, I locked myself out of the old address, so made a new one with a better name. Use it instead.’ Then I went ahead and fixed all of her typos, like a gentleman, then hit send. With that racy picture attached, how could he doubt it was anyone but Victoria?

Then I delete all of mystery guy’s messages and contact from her client.

If everything works correctly, I am now a man-in-the-middle. That took a lot of thinking out of my tired brain. And another hour. Shit. I return the laptop where it had been. I look at Victoria again. I say her name loudly and give her a firm jostle, but she is out cold.

I could cross another line here...