Stalked

((Closed for Annicka))

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He waited patiently, his form concealed by the deep shadows of the tree. Across the street, seated at an outdoor table of the cafe, his prey continued to laugh with her friends. He watched intently, sure that this would be the night, and he would have the fun he'd been waiting for...

He had been following her for several weeks now, knew where she worked, where she lived. He knew who her friends were, and he knew that she did not have a boyfriend. She was ripe for the taking, and she always seemed to invite his control. Every word she spoke, every action she took, teased him, and it was time she got what she had coming.

He melted back further into the line of trees that made up the outskirts of the city's park as a car's headlights washed over his hiding spot.

Just a little longer...

The laughter was getting a little hysterical. Liz, Gina and Martha were shaking with laughter. They spoke of the last dates they'd been on, each more horrible. Peter who couldn't dance, but thought he could. John who insisted on karaoke, and Miller the bad poet quoter.

"Well, I have to get up early, no work but I have to get laundry and groceries. I've been putting off chores." Martha was the first to recover. She been the karaoke date.

"Yeah, me too. I should go get something done." Gina seconded the motion and soon the ladies had paid their check and split up at the corner, two heading downtown, Martha heading north. She didn't particularily feel scared or threatened, it was a pretty small city for all it's hype and she didn't have far to walk.

Besides it was a beautiful night.

Martha had inherited a townhouse from her grandmother, a lovely old brick that stood in a row with others and slight differences made them unique.

She yawned as she pulled out her keys and opened the door, it'd been a long day with work then meeting her friends. She looked forward to a hot bath and her fluffy robe. She shed her clothes as she walked from the back to the stairs leading to the master bath. The townhouse was narrow, more deep than wide and she loved every old carpet and ancient knicknack. Each chosen by her grandmother. She shared many traits with her grandmother. A picture of Martha's grandmother hung in the library and was indistinguishable from Martha, save the outfit and hair style. Where Martha's black hair was long, her grandmothers was sassy short. They had the same deep blue eyes and crooked smile. Both were small women, but not timid. Each was forthright and unafraid and lived happily and secure in their world.

She pinned her hair up and started the bath, first a soak then a shower to wash her hair.

She grabbed a toweling robe and sat on the edge of the old claw tub, waiting for the tub to fill.

He had taken off his shoes by the door, and now padded softly through the house barefoot. Spare keys are a great way to ensure you never get locked out, but once somebody knows where it is, what's to stop them from coming in as they please? He smiled coldly as he made his way up the stairs without making a sound.

He could hear the bathwater running, and knew that she wouldn't be able to hear him open the door to her bedroom. Upon entering her room, he slid the bag he'd been carrying off his shoulder, unzipping it slowly. Out of it came a good length of rope, a bottle of chemicals, a rag, a blindfold, and several other tools of the trade. He carefully laid each out on the edge of the bed. He hoped not to have to drug her, as he was in an impatient mood tonight, and wanted to begin soon, without letting her miss any of the fun.

Satisfied that the tools had been arranged and were out of the way, he picked up the rag and a small length of rope. He made his way to the bathroom and peered through the open door, waiting for his moment.

She tossed her toweling robe on the hamper and tested the water with a pink laquered toe before sliding in with an audible sigh. Rose oil, hot water, deep tub. Combine the three and it was closest to bliss as she's ever been.

She relaxed a few moments before shaving her legs. She gelled and soaked, letting the workweek drain away. Between work and her night classes, she didn't get a lot of time to spend indulging herself. Martha toed the drain and stood. She stepped out of the bathtub and over to the standing shower. She could have taken the old tub out and put a combo shower/tub, but she loved the old tub. It was chipped and cracked but it had character and went with the house.

It didn't take but a few minutes to shave her armpits and trim down below. Hair took a little longer to wash and rinse because of it's length. She kept eyeing her grandmothers portrait thinking about a short style, but hadn't done anything about it.

She stepped out and put her robe on and started to towel dry her hair.

Ah, he loved the fact that she was now freshly shaven, all cleaned up and ready for him. Somewhere in her subconsious, she knew he was going to take her tonight. She invited him, he just knew it. He watched as she stepped out of the shower, put on her robe, and began drying her hair. His excitement was reaching its peek, and there was little stopping the stirring in his groin. He reached in his pocket, pulling out a wool ski mask. He thought of it as a little cliche, being all black, but it was best that she didn't see his face when he took her.

His mind reeled with the plans he had been perfecting for so long. She would be his for the taking, getting what she deserved, what he knew she longed for and invited. He tightened his grip on the rag in his hand. Every muscle in his body seethed with the onslaught of adrenaline it was recieving. Here was his moment, and he would finally claim his prize. He would have to remember to collect some sort of trophy before he was done, a token to remember this conquest...

He took a moment to collect himself before slowly moving through the open doorway.

Martha caught movement out of the corner of her eye and didn't realize someone was in the bath with her. It took an instant for it to sink in, and she reeled around, meeting the attack head on.

One hand held him away, while the other reached behind her to grab something, anything to use as a weapon. Christ he was strong, she opened her mouth to scream.

Her scream was cut short, and turned into a muffled noise as he shoved the balled up rag into her mouth. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her forcefully towards the door, attempting to get a hold of her other arm as they struggled. His face was hit twice before he finally caught her hand, trapping it from use.

Having both her arms under control now, he picked her up off the ground, so their trip to the bed would go unhindered. He loved that she still struggled against him, afraid to admit that she really wanted him to take her. What other explanation coiuld there be? She had teased him for so long, practically begging for this...

He finally had her out the door. Taking a firm hold of the robe, he tossed her roughly onto the bed, ensuring that the robe detatched itself from her. He tossed it aside and tackled her before she would have a chance to recover.

She gagged when he shoved the rag in her mouth and flailed wildly, tearing at his hands. He got her wrist and she jerked and sawed trying to get away . His hand shot out and caught her jaw and stars flashed briefly in her vision as she fought. He hit her again and grabbed her other wrist, hoisting her up against him. She kicked and wiggled and thrashed to no avail.

She tried to block their movement at the door and only ended up with a bruised foot. She'd considered herself fit but he flat out overpowered her. She made a keening sound deep under the rag, pleading, begging for him to let her go.

He threw her on the bed wrenching her arm as the robe came off. She flipped to scramble off the bed and he pounced knocking the breath out of her. She tried bucking him off, sliding one way then another. When he got a hold on her wrists again that is when she started praying, something she hadn't done since vacation bible school, 20 years before, when she was 7.

If he'd just listen, she'd give him anything he wanted. Why couldn't he see that? She continued fighting, but she was tiring, spent adrenalin making her mouth taste coppery around the gag.

He sat on her naked chest, allowing his full weight to pin her down. Leaning over her face, he held one arm down with his own, while the same hand held her other wrist. With a free hand now, he reached for a length of rope, quickly wrapping it around her wrist several times, before feeding it through the bedposts and pulling it tight. Confident that she would not be pulling free, he wrapped the other end around her remaining wrist, making sure it was nice and tight. Then he tied both ends together, locking her arms in place securely.

He gingerly ran a hand along his ribcage. He had caught a few loose elbows there, but he was sure the slight pain would subside. The stalker now eyed his prey through the holes in the mask, loving what he saw. Such spirit. He hoped that that spirit carried her through many hours, as he was going to enjoy using every part of her body for his pleasure. But first she had to calm down.

Her captor slapped her face twice, before growling, "Calm down, child."

Not seeing the results he desired, he decided a different tactic was in order.

"You wouldn't want me visiting Liz and Gina because you couldn't behave, would you?"

He'd managed to tie both hands above her to the headboard. He slapped her, once, then again. "Calm down, child". Those words made her fight harder. She was terrified and her throat wanted to close up. Tears streamed down her face and made her nose stuffy. It was becoming more difficult to breathe.

She heard his next words, spoken in a conversational tone, "You wouldn't want me visiting Liz and Gina because you couldn't behave, would you?" , and went shock still. She understood.

He knew her, her friends. He must have been watching her. She didn't hear any glass break, so it meant he probably used her spare key. Her eyes were wide. If he knew where she lived it probably wasn't just a threat about visiting Gina and Liz.

She lay still, chest heaving, battling hysteria. Unwilling to have her friends drawn in. "You bastard," she spat at him in her mind.

Her reaction was perfect. Calm but seething, just the way he wanted it. He backed himself up over her pelvis, so that he could admire her perfect body. He ran his hands over her breasts, cupping each before squeezing them. He toyed with her nipples, rubbing each one between his fingers, before twisting them sharply. Then his hands roamed up over her collarbone and neck to stroke her lovely face.

"I'm going to take out the gag, and we'll talk like civilized people. If you make any sound louder than normal volume, the gag goes back in, I have my way with you, and I leave you here tied up while I go visit your friends. Is that understood?"

As she nodded, he pulled the rag out of her mouth.

She stopped fighting with her body but under the fear the rage was building. He'd stalked her, invaded her home, her sanctuary since youth from mean taunts, broken hearts, and blighted dreams. She hated him for that. She knew no matter what the outcome, if he left her alive, her home was hers no longer.

Martha nearly gagged as he slid down her body, touching her breasts and twisting each nipple before releasing them. His hands slid to caress her face and she jerked back as if scalded.

"I'm going to take out the gag, and we'll talk like civilized people. If you make any sound louder than normal volume, the gag goes back in, I have my way with you, and I leave you here tied up while I go visit your friends. Is that understood?"
She nodded.

As soon as it was out, "Why me?"

"I noticed you about a month ago, and your beauty struck me. From that moment I knew I had to have you. Everything you did was a tease. You were always inviting me into your life. You take the same routes every day, knowing I'll be there. You knew I was watching when you used your spare key. You always seem so alone even with your friends. Face it, you need me."

He stroked her face once more.

"And we are going to have some fun tonight..."

The bulge in his pants was barely contained by now. And he did so long to set it free.

'Oh my GOD.' she thought. 'He's mad. Stark raving mad. Delusional.' And for the life of her, she couldn't think of a thing to say.

She needed him? She knew he was there? This guy was way far gone. He's given himself this delusional fantasy and put her co-starring as a collaborator.

You humoured these types right? It took every bit of will not to gag again when he stroked her cheek. "I'm so very sorry, I didn't mean to tease you. I'm sorry. I won't again." He'd grown hard while he was on top of her. Revulsion was churning her stomach.

"And we are going to have some fun tonight..."

Martha squeezed her eyes shut. "If you leave, I won't tell anyone, and I promise not to tease you again."

Annicka said:

"If you leave, I won't tell anyone, and I promise not to tease you again."

Click to expand...

The captor chuckled coldy, "Oh, it's much too late for that, my sweet. Besides, I know you want this."

He was unzipping his pants. "You want to be used in every way possible. Covered in cum. Completely violated."

His cock popped out, standing at attention in front of her.

His justification, probably one rapists and molesters had been using since the dawn of time. ...Besides, I know you want this."

Want this? Martha knew in her heart of hearts she didn't.

He unzipped his pants.

"You want to be used in every way possible. Covered in cum. Completely violated." That was just stupid convoluted justification to make it fit in a perpetrators' mind. NO ONE wants to be violated unless they were into those D and S things she sometimes read about.

When he released his cock she started to panic, bucking to throw him off her.


"Nooooooooooooo," she yelled out, forgetting her girlfriends.

Annicka said:

"Nooooooooooooo," she yelled out, forgetting her girlfriends.

Click to expand...

He stuffed the gag back in her mouth. "I guess I'll be paying a visit to those little friends of yours. I know how to get in, and even what they're probably doing right now." He whispered in her ear, "Gina likes to masterbate about this time every night..."

He climbed off of her, and made his way to the door, smiling cooly underneath the mask.

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo," she screamed it through the gag, thrashing wildly.

Then she stopped. A hitch in her chest and she was crying. Her mind screamed. This couldn't really be happening. She was in a nightmare. She tensed her arms feeling the bite of her chafed skin against the rope. It's real.

She squeezed her eyes shut and when he looked back he saw her legs open.

She offered what she thought he wanted while her body shook with the force of her future collapsing, her dreams and hopes smashed.

He returned to the bed, a smile hidden by the mask.

"So now you wanna cooperate? I don't think it'll be that easy, my sweet. A "wham-bam-thank-you-maam" will not suffice for the torment and teasing you've provided me. I've seen you, when you think you're all alone, playing with yourself. What do you think of, I wonder?"

He yanked the gag out in the hope that she would remain calm. He ran his fingers over her mound softly, as if it were something to be relished.

"How I've longed to take care of those issues for you, my dear. I plan on taking my time tonight, of that you can be sure."

He then stopped, looked at the ceiling, as if pondering something, then climbed back on top of her chest.

"Tell me something. I've been watching you for some time now, and I've only seen you with one man. He hurt you, of course, but that's not the point, is it? You seemed to do such a wonderful job sucking his cock, that I have to ask; how many cocks have you sucked, deary?"

This he asked with the tip of his own hardened member mere inches from her lips.

He yanked the rag from her mouth, whether he wanted a reply to his humiliating revelations regarding her masturbation or not, she didn't know. His words were like slime covered spit balls, striking and sticking. He made her feel dirty and somehow guilty. Had she brought this on?

How had she tempted this insane person? Her mind skittered about her activies, striving to find the one thing she'd done, but she could find no reason for him to have chosen her.

It wasn't her, it was him... He'd lit on her for some reason and she was beginning to understand the deep trouble she was in. Terror and fear and shame warred within her.

He almost scampered back onto her chest, Tell me something. I've been watching you for some time now, and I've only seen you with one man. He hurt you, of course, but that's not the point, is it? You seemed to do such a wonderful job sucking his cock, that I have to ask; how many cocks have you sucked, deary?"

She squeezed her eyes shut and mumbled, "Three," as if it could make the question less horrid. Her eyes were becoming hot and scalded with her tears, her throat wanted to close. She fought the panic that threatened.

Let me answer and be used, he's kept a mask on, so maybe he will leave me alive.


It was something to hang on to.

"Only three? That hardly seems believable. You sure it's only been three? How bout we make it one more, eh?" He began stroking himself in front of her, watching her face intently. His fingers gingerly touched her lips before running down her chin, her neck, settling on a breast, and softly rubbing a nipple.

"Don't look so distressed, deary. You should be thankful. I'm giving you experience that some lucky man is gonna get to enjoy some day, and he'll ask you how you got so good... You'll think of me."

With that, he ran the tip of his cock across her lips. "Take it in, deary..."

Martha stared at his cock as if it were coated in toad-slime. But she did fasten on to some of his words. He did mean to let her go eventually. A crazy line from some forgotten novel or something crossed her mind. “Close your eyes and think of England.” She could do that maybe, just do it and think of something else or do it quickly, get him off and that would end it.

She closed her eyes and let his cock slide between her lips. She sucked the head a few moments, gauging his reaction. Except for a sharp intake of breath he was silent and of course the ski-mask hid any expression he may have had.

The head of his cock popped out of her mouth and she licked down the shaft before coming back to it. She started slowly sucking up and down and increased the pace, eager to have it over.

"Ah, my dear, I know you can do better than that. It didn't seem that difficult to get his cock all the way down, did it? You should enjoy yourself. Take your time, savor the taste."

He lifted himself to give her more access, hands on her wrists to support himself. He watched her face intently. My, it did look so beautiful with a cock in her lips. He held on to the hope that she would come to enjoy this, that somewhere in her was a slut dying to be used. This must be the case, always teasing him so...

He reached back with a hand and started massaging the insides of her thighs. She would be more receptive soon, and she would realize just how badly she needed him. He needed her to need him. She just had to need him.

Or he would make her need him...

He wasn’t going to give an inch and certainly his goal wasn’t to make this easy on her. As she slowed the movement, she felt his hand between her thighs. Her legs clamped shut and still he moved there, massaging, his touch gentle. “God,” she thought. “He’s acting as if we were lovers.”

She licked down his shaft again before concentrating at the tip rolling her tongue around him, playing with his little slit. Then she tried to get him all in her mouth and nearly succeeded. He hit the back of her throat and made her gag and she backed off. Martha didn’t know too much about cocksucking, just what her boyfriends had taught her and she didn’t know if it were applicable to all men. But she did her best, slurping and sucking and moving up and back.

His hand between her thighs grew more insistent, and she squeezed her legs shut tight as she sucked him down deep in her mouth

Ah, much better.

He enjoyed the time she was taking. She was fairly skilled, despite her obvious apprehension. He still found it hard to believe that she hadn't had more practice. He drew in his breath as her tongue ran along the underside of his cock.

God damn...

The pressure of her legs squeezing together was making it hard to work, so he slapped the inside of her thigh.

"Why so non-compliant now? Earlier you practically threw yourself at me, legs spread, offering your delicious core to me..."

He licked his finger, spread her folds apart, and ran it over her clit in small circles.