A Dangerous Game

mobile flash banner


[ad_1]

She’s on the run. From who she does not know. But she knows him all so well.

Hanging on the edge of her sanity. In a constant state of paranoia. At all times looking over her shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, she often thinks she catches a glimpse of him, lurking in the shadows. But when she turns to look, he is never there.

Until he is.

Her mysterious stranger, her intruder.

Months ago he came into her world during a moment of weakness. Lonely and hurting from a split from a man she loved, a man that treated her badly, she threw caution to the wind. She was looking for something, anything, anyone, to fill that void.

A young woman all alone.

In a seedy bar on a Tuesday night. Trying to numb the pain she felt. To drown her sorrows. The cruel words of her ex ringing in her brain as she sat at the bar.

“You crazy fucking bitch!”

Those words cut deep. On repeat inside her head. Over and over.

The place was packed with disgusting old men, alcoholics, losers. She sat alone and stonewalled their advances.

A pretty young thing, there all alone, in a place she did not belong.

That is when he approached her.

He bought her a drink and against her better judgement she accepted. He was tall, lean, and dark. Not particularly handsome but he had a way about him. Quiet, but confident, at all times grinning. Very witty and sarcastic, reading her thoughts. During conversation, he told her what she was thinking. He was right, but was also so very wrong. She should have known better.

She was half intoxicated when he first spoke to her, so maybe she was just naïve, but he had her attention.

The rest of that night was a fog.

How they left the bar, how she got home, and how she came to be in her bed naked is a blur. She remembers bits and pieces. She remembers awaking in the middle of the night with him hovering over her, inside of her, she wanted to stop it, but she could not move.

In the morning he was gone, no trace of him. She was sure he had slipped something into her drink. She was conflicted because she remembers being attracted to him and although she could not move during the assault, she remembers feeling pleasure. She was almost certain she had orgasmed.

She was ashamed and did not report the incident. What could she say really? She did not even have a name. She instead chose to push the memory of that night into a secret place, deep and dark, and try to forget. To pretend it never happened.

But he would not allow that.

It started with phone calls at all hours of day and night. Infrequent, no pattern, no voice on the other end of the line. Just silence, sometimes just breathing. She knew it was him. It had to be him, right?

She changed her locks and had an alarm installed.

Eventually the phone calls stopped.

On a sunny afternoon in the springtime, she was out on a crowded city street. It was a gorgeous day. She wore a loose fitting spring dress and sandals. She enjoyed the warm weather and looked forward to the new life-chapter that warm weather often brings.

She was in an outdoor market browsing, when she felt eyes upon her. That is when she looked up saw him. A cold dark figure from her past gazing at her from afar, his face would disappear through the many faces on the crowded city street. It was as if she had seen a ghost.

Petrified she hurried away often looking back. Trying to discover him through the sea of faces. She fled from him on foot, over several city blocks, seeing him for a second, in pursuit of her, then blending into the crowd.

There was no doubt he was following her. She was not imagining this. He was on the hunt.

A dangerous game of cat and mouse.

As she left the market district she saw a taxi, she tried to flag the driver down to stop. Desperate, she ran out in front of the car, her arms waving. Pleading with the driver to stop and let her in. The taxi swerved and the horn blared before speeding away.

She looked behind her, and the stranger was closer, across the street stalking her every move. On she went away from him.

These streets were less crowded, fewer businesses, more private, more residential. Onward she fled looking for an escape. She was lost, these streets were unfamiliar.

As she would lose sight of him, only for him to reappear each time closer that before. He was closing in. Her predator, on the hunt, in hot pursuit of his prey.

Trying in vain to get a bus stop, or a subway station, anywhere safe so she could make her way back home. But something told her she was headed in the wrong direction and panic set in.

It was getting dark. She felt hopeless. She stopped and spun around 360 degrees. Looking in all directions, desperate and afraid, she needed an escape.

Scanning all around her unable to spot the stranger. But she knew he was there watching. Lurking in the shadows. Waiting for his opportune moment. Waiting for her to make her next mistake.

She was exhausted from the pace she had kept trying to get away. Defeated and tired she made a decision in haste. She chose a random street and went in a different direction than before.

A short distance down this street she knew it was a wrong turn. It was a lonely and desolate path, dark and menacing.

She immediately turned to go back, and there he was. No more than twenty feet from where she stood. She was frozen and petrified.

They locked eyes, his unwavering stare, and that shit-eating grin. His eyes piercing through her.

The game was on, this was the moment.

Panicked, she ran as fast as she could further down the empty street. She scurried away from him. The stranger behind her in hot pursuit.

She turned down a dark alleyway looking for any path of escape. She could hear is quick footsteps closing in on her. Close in chase, only a few steps behind her.

Just before he caught up to her, she cried out.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

His long arm scooped her body up by the waist lifting her off the ground. She kicked and flailed. He swung her around. Her purse slung to the ground, it’s contents scattered. He made not a sound, he spoke no words.

Whimpers in the moonlight, as he carried her further down the alley and laid her down on the hard concrete.

“Please don’t do this.”

She pleaded.

He smiled at her. His piercing eyes were now upon her body, full of lust.

She laid there defenseless. She could have fought and screamed, but she just went limp, allowing him to take her. He lifted her loose dress and forcefully parted her bare legs. He ripped her panties from her body.

She knew what was about to happen to her, but she was wet for him somehow. Her body instinctively preparing for her assault.

He pushed himself inside of her and she lifted her legs as he pounded her body into the hard ground. He reached down and held her throat in a tight grip. She gasped for air as he forced himself in and out of her.

He was an animal, a monster as he took her there in the darkness, their silhouettes outlined in moonlight as he defiled her. A primal display of lust and power, he ravaged her, uninvited. Her soft and weak body allowing him to have his way.

Soft cries as she came to orgasm beneath him. As he pushed himself deep. An orgasm while being raped, she had never imagined. Was that even feasible? The first time he did this to her, she was not sure. She could not remember, it was a fog, but this time was all too real. The pleasure and pain of it all.

He pulled out of her and stood up. She sat up on the concrete not sure what would happen next.

He stepped to her and she instinctively took him into her mouth and he fucked her face and throat. A tight grip on her hair as he used her face. She could taste herself on him. He pushed himself into the back of her throat. She gagged and drooled and her body convulsed before he pulled out of her mouth allowing her to breathe. Her eyes watered, her makeup ran, her spit dripping down to her dress and puddled on the concrete.

He stood her up. Pulling her up by her hair and spinning her around. He pushed her face hard against the wall of the alleyway. His strong arm pinning her there as he entered her from behind.

She moaned and grunted as he entered. Pain and pleasure, as he slammed her body hard against the wall. Each trust violent and without regard. She wept tears of pain mixed with desire, fear and confusion. As he used her body for his satisfaction. She enjoyed it, as sick as that sounds, there in that alley, she enjoyed being his object.

He pushed himself as deep as he could, a total violation of her being, her identity. Trying to push through her walls and rip her aside. To rip her soul to shreds. A total invasion, inside of her, unnatural and perverse. There he held himself suspended, still pushing in vain to plant himself deeper inside, as he pumped his seed.

She stood there motionless as he released into her. Her face pressed hard against the wall, her legs spread, his throbbing cock twitching inside her most sacred place.

When he was finished he zipped himself back up and left her her there in the dirty alley a complete wreck, her panties still around one of her ankles.

When he was gone she struggled to compose herself. It was surreal. How did she get here? How did this happen? Another blur, a fog.

She stumbled the dark streets back to familiarity and eventually found a subway station. She rode the train back to her neighborhood with other passengers looking at her with concern. She looked as though she had been ravaged, through an ordeal. And she had. There was something off.

She felt so dirty. She was ashamed. When she got home she took a long hot shower and wept. She was so torn and confused. Why did this happen? Did she let it happen? Did she want it to happen? She was conflicted. She tried to wash away the impurity, to regain her self worth, her dignity.

The next day she called the police.

They cast doubt upon her story from the beginning. They asked her why she had waited so long to report the first incident from the night she had met him at the bar. They were skeptical of her recounting of the incident in the alley. They insinuated and cast doubt. They accused her of being a scorned lover trying to get back at a man that had used her.

Their eyes looked upon her with suspicion. They asked about her past.

“You don’t believe me!”

She wailed.

This is why so many women never come forward, she wondered to herself.

They showed her a book of mugshots of known sexual predators, but none of them were a match. They did a rape kit, and sent it off for testing, but she knew it was of no use.

He was not stupid. She did not know him, but she did. She knew he would never be as dumb to leave his semen inside a victim if there was any chance that he could be traced.

He haunted her day and night.

The image of his solemn stare burned into her mind. His menacing smile. He walked among her dreams, her nightmare.

She was afraid to go out. During the weeks that followed she rarely left her apartment and eventually she did not feel safe even within those walls.

The following month she broke her lease, and made preparations to move out of her apartment. She needed to get away. She needed a new begin.

She even contemplated changing her name.

She knew what he brought to her was pure misery even if it had been entangled with moments of want and desire.

As she left town in the darkness of night, she felt as if he was still upon her. Still in pursuit as she fled. Or was he?

Her mind played tricks on her. Was she just imagining things? How much of this was real?

She watched the headlamps following in her rearview mirror as she drove away to her new place. A place, far, far, away she wondered. Somewhere where he could never discover her. Or could he?

Maybe I want to be found? What a sick wondered. Her mind was wandering. As she watched the mirrors.

It seemed as though she was being followed. The lights reflected in the rearview following closely behind, tracking every maneuver as she drove her car. A changed lane, an exit off the freeway, they were never far behind.

Or was she just being paranoid? Just like before. Was her mind playing tricks again? Did any of this happen?

She was unsure but she was certain. This all felt too familiar. Her mind danced.

She held a secret, so near and dear to her being. Something he did not know. Something he could not know. Something she could play to her benefit in this dangerous game.

She now carried his child inside her womb.

The next time he found her, the next time he tracked her down, would that matter to him?

Would he even care?

It mattered to her and she pressed on, off to her new secret place. A place far, far, away. A new beginning. A new begin, a new existence. It will be better this time. This has happened before.

She will wait for him to discover her once again.

NSFW: yes

[ad_2]