TRIGGER WARNINGS (PLEASE READ):  This story and series as a whole features explicit stalking and non-consent. Please do not read if you are at all sensitive to those topics.

IMPORTANT NOTES:  It goes without saying that while it's fun to read and write stories like these, the actions of the male main character are reprehensible and in real life, he should go straight to jail. He is a sadistic psycho, and is both possessive and obsessive to an extremely unhealthy and damaging degree.

This story, including all names and people, is entirely fictional and not based on any real life experiences or events.

(All parts to this story can be found here when they are published!💜)

I can’t move.

My feet are glued to the ground and my eyes are glued to his way too fucking beautiful face.

God, why does he have to look like that? His eyes are crystal blue, like the kind of blue that makes someone’s eyes look like contacts. He’s clean shaven, and his hair is jet black, hanging haphazardly over his forehead.

There’s no longer a mask covering his face, and the fact that he feels bold enough to ditch it makes my eyes sting. His lips look like they’re almost begging to be kissed, and when his tongue darts out, just as his eyes drop to my own mouth, I can’t help but imagine what else that tongue can do.

I’m fucking insane.

Clearly, given the fact that I hung up on Sophie, his eyes have short-circuited my brain. If I was a smart girl, I’d have made a codeword of some kind to tell Sophie if I ever ended up in danger. Something like, Please help me, my sexy stalker is about to kill me, though hopefully a little less conspicuous.

But I’m not smart. I’m incredibly stupid, made especially apparent when he tells me to run, and I just…don’t.

“Run, Elsie.” His voice is so deep, so incredible, that I still can’t move.

Fucking run, Elsie, I tell myself, yet I don’t.

My eyes catch on the movement of his large hand. He moves it behind his back, and a moment later, the shiny, intimidating metal of a knife appears.

I can’t explain why I’m so shocked by the sight of it. He just explained that he has a knife five seconds ago, yet only now that I can actually see it, do I break out of whatever spell his eyes have put me under.

My legs start moving before my brain does, and I run at full speed, abandoning my phone in the kitchen like the idiot I am. I slip when I round the corner, but quickly recover and start making my way to the front door.

He’s right behind me, his sinister laugh taunting my attempt at escape. His footsteps stop somewhere far behind me, but I don’t understand why until I try to open the front door, only to realise I can’t.

“You really thought it would be that easy, Elsie?” he taunts, and I whimper when the lock just won’t fucking budge.

I kick the door in anger, then whirr around to face him. His large body is blocking the hallway, but the staircase leading to the upper floor is between us to my left. I realise what he’s doing, then. He’s blocking all my exit points, other than the upstairs, leaving me with just one option.

I charge at the staircase, and he immediately breaks into a run after me. His hand wraps around my ankle, and I kick away at it. He releases me with relative ease, another laugh escaping his enticing mouth.

He wants me to get away. This is all a fucking game to him.

I don’t think on it for too long, instead picking up the pace as I practically crawl up the stairs in desperation. Once I make it to the top, I realise I’m at an impasse.

If I had my phone, it’d be an easy decision. I’d run to my bathroom, lock the door (which can only be unlocked from the inside), and call for help, but without my phone I’d just be a sitting duck. My other option is my bedroom, which has a lock, but I’m frankly not convinced he doesn’t have a key, and the door can be unlocked from both sides if you have one.

Still, escaping out my bedroom window, using the lock as a way of buying time, is my only feasible option. I don’t hesitate for long before I run into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me and locking it.

My stalker charges at it in the next moment, and I flinch at the way the door buckles under his weight, even as it holds. I’m frozen for a few precious seconds before I snap out of it and start opening a window.

The silence from outside my bedroom is deafening as I open the window, but then I hear the lock slowly unlocking.

Of course he has a fucking key.

I scream when the door flies open. I expect him to charge at me, to stop me from escaping, but he just stands there, and we stare at each other.

I’m frozen again, completely unable to climb through the window, as I stare at his terrifying gaze. He has fire in his eyes, and his grin is as enticing as it is horrifying.

A gust of wind comes through the open window, and my hair flies into my face, blinding me for a few, horrifying seconds.

When I open them again, he’s standing right in front of me. I back up, and with aching slowness and a wicked grin, he closes the window, quite literally sealing my fate.

“Please,” I breathe. It’s all I can muster without my voice cracking, as tears are already building up in my eyes at the sight of the knife in his hand.

“You look so beautiful when you’re scared, Elsie.”

What the fuck?

I go to ask exactly that, but my words die in my throat when he moves slowly towards me. The fight I had a few minutes ago finds me again, and I try running for the bedroom door.

A terrifying scream erupts from my throat when he snakes his large arms around me, pulling me back and back, all the way until my back collides with the floor.

I groan at the pain, but he’s on top of me in an instant, straddling my hips. I go to fight him, but I stop when I see his warning glare and feel cold, sharp metal against my neck.

Another tear rolls down my cheek. I blink rapidly to try to clear my eyes, but my vision only becomes blurry.

I feel his thumb swiping under one of my eyes, then the other, gathering the moisture. When I blink again, my vision clears, and my nose wrinkles in disgust when he sticks his thumb in his mouth, tasting my tears.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I ask with a trembling voice.

“You have no idea,” he says, almost like it’s funny.

He starts tugging at the hem of my leggings, and I whimper and try to move out of his hold. “Elsie.” His firm tone stops my movements. “I know you’re not so stupid as to fight the man with a knife to your throat.”

I am, apparently, that stupid, because I don’t stop wriggling. He groans, then leans over me until his face is just an inch from mine. I finally stop moving, and he gives me a satisfied, almost proud grin.

Before I can groan in disgust, his mouth crashes into mine. I pucker my lips, trying to deny him access, but his knife presses a little tighter in warning, so I open my mouth.

The moan that escapes him, that finds its home in my mouth, is so unashamed, so deeply masculine, that I feel tingles in my lower half. My cheeks heat in shame at how I feel a steady pulse between my legs because of what his tongue is doing to my mouth. Exploring, pillaging, conquering. Dominating.

He pulls away, leaving my lips feeling swollen and wet. His eyes meet mine. “I’m only saying this once,” he starts. He moves back, sitting on my shins as he starts pulling my leggings down my legs. His knife stays pressed to my throat. “If you move, I will cut you.”

I close my eyes in resignation at what’s about to happen. When his thumb finds my clit over my panties, all I can think about is all the mistakes I made that led up to this moment.

Had I taken up Sophie’s offer to stay at her place for a while, maybe I would’ve been safe. Had I told Sophie the truth earlier, instead of asking if she wants to get fucking dinner, maybe I would’ve been safe.

He hooks his fingers into my panties, slowly peeling them off me. The open air hitting my core reveals how wet I’ve become, and his answering groan tells me he sees it too.

“Please don’t do this,” I try, but he doesn’t even answer me.

I think if I wasn’t an idiot for the past few weeks, if I hadn’t let him take the initiative at every turn, I wouldn’t be here today.

But that doesn’t matter, not when he leans down and licks a slow, nearly grotesque path up my slit. I buck off the floor a little, and his eyes meet mine in warning.

I try to keep myself still, laying my hands flat on the floor at either side of me, but he’s eating at me so aggressively, without an ounce of restraint, that I can’t possibly keep myself still.

And the fact it’s not just because I want to get away from him frustrates me more than anything else. I’m crying harder at the realisation that this feels so fucking good.

When his tongue teases my entrance, his thumb presses against my clit. And when he sucks my clit into his mouth, he pushes two fingers inside my wet hole.

I can’t stand it, how fucking good it feels despite how badly I want out.

I go to scream, but a fucking moan escapes me instead. I slam a hand over my mouth, like I could push the moan back inside my traitorous mouth, but it does little to contain the sounds I push into my hand.

My eyes squeeze shut, my entire body tenses, when I feel his groan vibrating through my entire body. “You taste so fucking delicious, my little Elsie.”

The derogatory nickname renews my fight for a moment, and I try to wriggle away again, but he slams a hand across my abdomen, keeping me in place as he finishes his meal.

“You try to fight me again and I’ll bite your clit, I swear to fucking god.” His promise is told with a deep growl, like he wants nothing more than to do just that, but he sounds almost angry too.

Another whimper pours into my hand, a few more tears pool in my eyes. I crane my neck, trying to look down at him, but the knife at my throat keeps me in place.

My head falls back to the floor in frustration. But then a scream erupts from my throat at a sharp pain, right where his mouth is. “What did I just say, Elsie?” He gives my clit a kiss, almost like he’s fucking soothing the sting of his bite. “Now stop fucking moving.”

I do as he says, even as my body is screaming at me not to. But then another sensation overwhelms my body. He sucks my swollen clit back into his mouth just as his fingers explore inside me, and I realise too late that my orgasm is crashing into my body.

I clamp both hands over my mouth to keep my moans inside. His large arm across my stomach prevents me from bucking off, even as I try my hardest, and his mouth eats at me with such eagerness. His face is almost entirely consumed by my shaking thighs as he pushes it further and further in, wringing the last of my orgasm from me.

When I come back down, shaking all over from fear and arousal, he pulls away slowly. He goes to stand, but I just lay on the floor. He licks my juices off his lips while staring at me with an impish grin, and I can do nothing but stare, mesmerised, into his blue eyes.

“I know what you’re going to do when I leave,” he begins. “You’re going to run for your phone, to call for help and report me, but I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

I stare at him slack jawed.

“There’s no evidence on your little cameras. But don’t worry, I saved the footage from my own cameras.” His own cameras? “They won’t believe you, Elsie. And if you do tell anyone, even Sophie, you won’t like what happens next.”

He crouches, brushing away the tear I didn’t realise had rolled down my cheek again. “I know you think you hate me.” I fucking know I hate him. “But don’t you dare pretend for a moment you didn’t love that, that you’re not desperate for more.”

He glances down, and my eyes snag on his erection pressing against his jeans. “Don’t worry,” he continues, drawing my eyes back up to his. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t go anywhere.”

With that promise, he stands and calmly walks out the door, leaving me confused and terrified on the floor where he shattered my world.

I don’t know how long I stayed on that floor, or how on earth I managed to drag myself up again.

But when I sat on my bed, the realisation of what just happened hit me like a truck. My stalker, my way too fucking sexy stalker, broke into my house, chased me with a knife, and ate my pussy until I came all over his face.

And I liked it.

My body betrayed me, clearly, as all it saw was a hot man with his face between my thighs. But I can’t deny that when I think of it now, heat pools where his face was just a day ago.

I am so fucked.

That same mantra plays on repeat in my head at Sophie’s concerned expression. We’re in a, frankly, horrible restaurant, but it was the only place we could get a table on such short notice.

Sophie knows I lied yesterday, of fucking course she knows. I texted yesterday her telling her I was fine so she wouldn’t worry, but now there’s no escaping her scrutiny.

I knew I had to make up a lie. Not only was what happened unbelievable, but if I tell her the truth, who knows what my stalker will do? His threat was vague, but I’m not about to test his resolve.

So, I came up with yet another lie, because that seems to be all I can do when I talk with my sister these days.

“What happened, Elsie?” she asks. Her voice is concerned, but I can tell she’s losing her patience with me. For good reason, too.

“I’m sorry.” And here come the lies. “I thought I heard a noise, so I called you for help, but I realised it was just a kid slamming at my door outside.”

Silence follows, and I worry for a moment that she doesn’t believe me, but then she bursts out laughing.

“Why are you laughing?” I ask slowly, because what the hell?

“Sorry,” she says between gasps for breath. She pauses to take a deep breath, then continues. “It’s just that I was so worried if your stalker had, like, stolen your underwear or tried to break in or something, but no a fucking kid was just being dumb?”

He did a lot more than that.

She sounds almost relieved. “Uh, yeah,” I say. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I should’ve called you.”

She finally fully calms down, her voice sincerely concerned when she asks, “Has he done anything else?”

“No,” I say immediately, but even I catch the uncertainty in my voice.

“Elsie.”

I sigh. “He’s still giving me flowers.” Not a lie, technically. “I…” I close my eyes and take a breath. “I got another one yesterday. I guess I was a little extra freaked out.”

My candid, unprompted confession seems to win her over. “I’m so sorry, Elsie. But I’m terrified for you. What if he breaks in one day?” Yeah, what if. “How can I help you, then?”

“He probably won’t–“

“You don’t know anything about him!” She takes a breath. “Please stay with us. I’m begging you, Elsie. If only just to not worry Robert and I. Please.”

Unshed tears well in her eyes, and I realise I can’t say no. Besides the fact that she won’t take no for answer, I think, at this point, it’s the smartest thing to do. I hate putting her in more danger, but it’s not a terrible idea to stay with them for a bit, if only to feel a little safer. Because if he does come after me again, and he does more, I don’t know what I can do to escape him.

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll stay with you.”

I can still taste her on my tongue. I can still feel her trembling legs muffling my ears as I made her come. I can still feel the way my cock was begging for release when I bit her swollen clit.

Two days ago was the greatest day in our lives. Not just mine, but hers too. She may think she hates me, but my little Elsie is only in denial about the truth. She’s loving this as much as I am.

I swear I feel like a teenage boy again, with how often I’ve fucked my fist to the thought of her taste, to the sight of her terrified expression on my cameras.

Self-preservation took over when I left, and I monitored her phone and her cameras for hours, making sure she didn’t tell anyone. But it didn’t take long before I had to find my own release too, and the sight of her crying in her bed was exactly what I needed.

I went to sleep confident she wouldn’t tell anyone, and I didn’t wake up disappointed. She’s being such a good girl for me, I might have to reward her.

Don’t get me wrong, what I did made her feel heavenly, but I can’t deny how it was mostly for my own pleasure. From now on, the only pleasure she feels will be the pleasure I allow her to feel.

It’s barely noon, and I’ve already drained myself twice, yet I’m already jerking off again. I’m struggling to keep from taking her, from making her mine in the best way, but I want to enjoy this as much as I can. Even if it is torture to keep from sinking my cock deep inside her.

I come with Elsie’s beautiful name on my lips. With a contended sigh, I make my way to my computer to check the cameras, both hers and my own. I frown when I see a man in her house. I immediately want to kill him, but I quickly realise it’s Robert, Sophie’s husband.

But then I frown again, when I see that they’re both carrying several bags out of her house. I turn on the audio to see what’s going on.

“You got it?” Elsie asks, pointing to a bag over Robert’s shoulder. She sounds remarkably chipper, considering what she’s been through. I hate it.

“Barely,” Robert says with a groan. “What do you have in this thing, anyway? It’s so heavy.” I nearly roll my eyes at him, at how he can’t even carry a fucking bag for Elsie. I seem to be the only man capable of doing anything for her.

“It’s my books.” She shrugs. “I have a lot.”

“Do you really need all these? Can’t you just pick three or four, and we can come back and grab some more when you finish those?” Why is he bothering to argue with her? My girl is stubborn as fuck.

She blushes, and I smile. I might love her tears, but I can’t deny that she’s almost as beautiful when she’s embarrassed. “Just get the bag to the damn car, Robert,” she says impatiently.

With a huff, Robert leaves the house, out of range of my cameras and the audio.

Elsie pauses, looking around her house in a way that feels like a goodbye, and I realise what’s happened. She’s going to finally stay with Sophie and Robert, for god knows how long. I know she wouldn’t tell them what happened, and that assertion is confirmed by the casual tone between her and Robert. If he thought she was in mortal danger, he wouldn’t be complaining about her books.

Still, Elsie staying with Sophie presents problems, obviously. She’s scared. Most definitely scared of me, but also of how she feels about me. She liked what I did to her, but she doesn’t like that she liked it.

“It’s okay,” I say aloud. “It’s okay to be scared, Elsie. You’ll get used to it eventually.”

I had plans for her, but I realise I need to hold off, what with her in Sophie’s sights 24/7. But despite jerking off more than I can count in the past few days, I have some self-restraint.

I’ll let her get comfortable, let her think she’s safe. But I’ll keep watching her, and when I get the chance, I’ll make her mine.

She won’t be able to escape me, not after I’ve had a taste of her delicious pussy. She might feel safe now, but I’ll come for her. And when I come for her again, I won’t let her go.  

Thank you so much for reading!💜 I hope you liked it!🥰