equal balances

Most people do stupid things in their free time, like collecting stamps, cooking or writing monologues. All of these things fade away, and are forgotten. I have a productive past time. I change the world towards the better side of the spectrum. I'm changing the stereotype of the ideal serial killer. Most serial killers are men. Blood thirsty, cruel and ignorant male pigs. These serial killers methodically target women, to eventually slaughter them like lambs. Every woman is a divine being. Even those that sell themselves. Yer we are being killed. Why should the men have all the fun?
My goal is to rectify this unjust balance. I will show that the female is dominant, that we do control the world with our feminine wiles. I use men's unthinking, unsatiable lust to my advantage. Their unworthy desire of elegant beauty is my tool to change the world. The change may be slow, and perhaps not noticeable right now. But one less selfish pig makes the pen stink a bit less.
For example, my first client. Well, origanlly my boss. I was out on the town, dressed for my second job. I guess, at first because he was so used to seeing my in a suit, he didn't recognize me. I could tell he was intersted though. I started playing him like a fiddle, toying with his fishnet-stocking fetish.
I walked around him, dancing manicured nails across his body. I encouraged my scent to wrap around him, arousing the unthinking animal I know to be behind my bosses' facade. When I knew I had him completely in my control, I dragged a finger down his cheek to lift his chin, forcing our eyes to meet.
"Hello, Mr. Porter. How can I service you?"
I toss back my head and let a laugh rip out, spinning away, my hair swinging in the wind. I know how his chin is dropping, the wide eyed look upon his face. I let my hips roll, the curve of my ass swinging. I know he's stared at it, many times at board meetings. My short plaid skirt hiding the uniform of my passions and obsessions.
Well, let's just say the next day at the office, was, akward. I could tell he peeled away my bussiness attire to reveal my prefered uniform.
I'm a good employee. I gave my boss exactly what he wanted. Every time we passed, I'd allow my body it display itself, calling to his inner unowrthy desire of the female form. My tight satin shirt would pull tight on my breasts to reveal my own aroused nipples. If i was stitting down, I would twist in my seat to pull my plaid skirt farther up my hips, revealing more of my graceful rose stem legs. A few times, I even alllowed him to catch me playing with myself while doing paper work. I played my boss for the rest of the week, just waiting for the weekend to come.