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 see him. He’s outside the house, illuminated by a streetlamp. Sophie’s house, not mine, which just makes this a whole lot worse.

I’m standing by the window in Sophie’s guest bedroom, where she’s allowed me to stay for the time being. It makes me feel safer, being with her and Robert, her husband. But that safety has been dashed by the sight of him outside their house.

It's only been two weeks since he tore down everything I thought I knew about myself. It’s only been one week since I touched myself to the thought of his face between my legs. I cried when I came, the shame of masturbating to that overwhelming me.

Why is this so exciting? Why is the prospect of having a hot stalker something that sends warmth through my body? Why did I come to the image of his hungry mouth devouring me?

I’ve been trying to answer all these questions, and figure out what to do, for the past few days, but I have no idea what to do. At this point, I’m just his plaything, to terrorise as he sees fit.

Even from here, with a street and several floors of height separating us, I can still see his face. His smile, his striking blue eyes, his tongue licking his soft lips. And he’s staring right back at me.

He pulls his phone out, and a second later, I get a text message.

Unknown number: You think you can run away from me?

I pale at the hidden threat, but I don’t hold back when I reply to him.

Elsie: Leave me alone, you fucking psycho.

I realise it’s probably stupid to provoke him, but it was also stupid to masturbate to the image of his ridiculously handsome face. Besides, any time I’m left alone to think about him, I just get angry at him. And horny.

Unknown number: Why not call sister dearest for help? Since you’re so desperate to see me go.

Elsie: Fuck you.

Unknown number: You will soon, my little Elsie. Be patient.

I reel back in disgust, but I don’t dignify him with a reply. Instead, I stare at him again, and, as loud as I can, yell out, “Sophie!”

“Coming!” she practically runs up the stairs, but just as the door to the guest room opens, I watch in horror as my stalker’s silhouette slinks backwards, until he’s no longer visible under the light. Even though I was looking at him just a second ago, I can’t see him. He’s seamlessly blended with the shadows.

“Elsie?” I jump at the sound of my name from directly behind me. She places a concerned hand on my shoulder, and when I look up at her, she gives me a reassuring smile. “What did you need?”

“Sorry, I…” I trail off, looking back outside. Sophie leans over my shoulder, but I know she can see just as much as I can.

“Did you see something?” she asks, her tone coated with determination and concern.

“I thought I did,” I say, which isn’t a complete lie, I suppose. “But it was nothing. I’m sorry.”

She stands up, then pulls me into a hug. “Please don’t apologise. If you think you see something, please tell me. It might be him one day.” Sure might be.

I nod against her shoulder. With a tight smile, she leaves me again. When I look outside again, he’s right back where he was, with his phone in his hand.

Unknown number: Do that again, and I won’t hide in the shadows. See what happens when she sees me, I dare you.

The following night, I eat dinner with Sophie and Robert in their dining room. I can barely touch my food; I’m so overwhelmed with nerves. I can’t tell them what happened last night or anything else that’s happened with my stalker.

Hey, sis, my stalker ate me out on the floor and gave me the best orgasm of my entire life.

I can’t see how that conversation would go over well, so I keep my mouth shut during dinner. They try to talk to me, bless them, but I think they can tell I’m not in a very talkative mood.

“Please eat something,” Sophie urges me. I give a small smile back and take another bite. I know I need to eat, regardless of how shit I feel.

After taking a few bites, my phone vibrates in my lap, and my heart drops when I read the text.

Unknown number: Very cheeky, Elsie. Can’t wait to see you wear them for me.  

Attached is a photo of one of my lacy thongs, bright lavender, placed neatly on top of my dresser drawer.

He’s in my house.

I hug my phone to my stomach, even though neither Robert nor Sophie could’ve seen my screen from where they’re sitting.

But, of course, Sophie notices the way I’m clutching my phone. “What’s up?” she asks, pointing to it with her knife.

“Nothing,” I say.

She smiles, and Robert speaks up. “Doesn’t look like nothing if you’re holding onto your phone like that.”

“You’re not texting a guy, are you?” Sophie asks, and I nearly cry with relief at the out she’s given me. When I nod, she continues. “I’m glad. The stalker thing is terrifying, but don’t let that stop you from talking with people, you know?”

I hum and nod, and my phone vibrates again. Slowly, I turn the screen towards me to read the incoming text.

Unknown number: I think we both know I’m not just a guy you’re texting.

Oh my god, he’s fucking listening to our conversation?

“I gotta go,” I say abruptly, then hurriedly walk to my room. Once there, I fire back a text.

Elsie: Please get out of my house.

Since being aggressive hadn’t worked, I figure asking nicely might. It probably won’t, but still.

Unknown number: I’m not in your house.

A moment later, the doorbell rings, and my heart leaps into my throat. I feel sick, and I rush out of my room, pausing at the top of the stairs to see who is currently speaking to Robert at the front door.

It’s him.

Our eyes meet. His lips form into a sadistic grin just as my own face pales. It’s terrifying, just how brazen and confident this man is. Robert doesn’t know he’s speaking to the man that’s haunting my nightmares, the man who attacked me just weeks ago.

“No, sorry, she lives a couple houses that way,” Robert says just as he points in one direction outside.

“Ah,” the demon standing in the doorway says. “Sorry to bother you folks. Have a nice night.” With that, he turns and walks away, whistling a little tune as he does.

“What did he want?” I ask and cringe a little at the bite in my tone.

“Uh,” Robert hesitates. “He was wondering if Margareth lives here. I just pointed him in the right direction.”

The fucker knows who actually lives here. He came just to taunt me, to flaunt in my face that he can get to me whenever and wherever he wants.

He wants me terrified for him, and he wants me compliant. He loves that I can’t tell Robert that he just spoke with my worst nightmare, that that man, who just asked about Martha or whatever her name is, made me come while holding a knife to my throat.

“Okay,” I say, then turn on my heels and walk back into my room, where tears are already welling in my eyes.

My phone buzzes again.

Unknown number: I left you a little gift in the mailbox. I suggest you get to it before they do, my little Elsie.

My eyes widen, and I hurry downstairs.

“Elsie?” Sophie asks when I pass by her. “Where are you going?”

“I’m just taking a run!” I yell out, despite how I’m wearing jeans and a sweater.

She doesn’t question me, and I rush to the mailbox. I check all the windows to the house, making sure Robert and Sophie can’t see me, then open it.

Inside is a white rose, with my lavender, lacy thong twined around it. A note is attached to the stem.

They still smell like you.

Disgusted, I stuff the “gift” into my back pocket, the stems and petals of the rose snapping apart as I do. I walk back into the house, but Sophie stops me in my tracks.

“A run? Dressed like that?”

I laugh awkwardly. “Yeah, I sorta forgot to change. I’ll go change.”

I give her a stiff hug, then rush to change before I make my way outside for my run.

While I run around Sophie’s neighbourhood, I feel like I’m being watched. I always feel like I’m being watched these days, but the feeling is especially strong now.

Every time I round a corner, I expect to see him, to slam into his chest, but it never happens. Every face I pass looks at me with an odd expression when I scrutinise their appearance. And every time I hear a sound behind me, I expect to find him, walking leisurely behind while he hunts his prey.

But I see nothing, and when I make it back to the house, I pause. I check my phone for any new texts, and I’m surprised when I find none.

With a sigh, I make my way back inside the house, back to my bubble with a false sense of security.

Elsie: Who are you?

It’s a stupid thing to ask my stalker. It’s not like he’ll tell me his full name and address, but that’s not what I’m hoping for. No, I want him to tell me who he is. Why is he doing this to me? What kind of person is he?

It’s been a few days since I last saw him, when he came to the front door of the house and gave me my latest gift. He’s been quiet since, and I think it’s time I initiate, if only to get some answers.

Unknown number: I’m not telling you my name.

Elsie: Duh. I mean, who are you? What do you want with me?

I must’ve surprised him with my answer, because he doesn’t reply for several minutes.

Unknown number: I want you.

Both vague and terrifying. I hate it.

I don’t think I’ll get anything else out of him, so I toss my phone on the bed and lay back in frustration.

I don’t even want a detailed answer. I don’t expect him to give me a complete plan of what he’s going to do to me, but I hoped he might’ve given me something I didn’t already know.

A minute later, my phone buzzes again. I ignore it for a moment, but I give in when it buzzes again.

Unknown number: If you want to know my name, meet me at this address. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going. This is your one and only warning.

He follows that up with an address. I don’t recognise it, other than that it’s at the very edge of town.

Elsie: And die? No thanks.

Even as I text that, I’m standing up and tossing on a jacket. It’s just after midnight, so it’s freezing outside.

Unknown number: Why would I kill you? My silly girl. I like your tight little cunt wet and warm for me.

I reel back in disgust, but warmth still floods my system at what he’s implying.

Fuck my life.

I walk downstairs and stuff my feet into my shoes. Both Robert and Sophie are asleep, so I sneak my way out into the cold, night air.

I take my car and start driving to the address he gave me. The dim streetlights whizzing by make me almost drowsy, but my mind is racing.

What will happen when I get to the address? What will he do to me? I’m probably incredibly stupid in going willingly to this location, and I know he’s going to do something to me.

He said he’s not going to kill me, and strangely, I believe him. He wants me for who I am now, which is alive and, apparently, with a warm pussy.

I think I know why he wants that. And I hate myself for not hating that thought.

But beyond anything else, I want answers. He’s always a step ahead of me, always taking the initiative. This has been going on for months at this point, it’s time to change tactics, even if that means walking into the lion’s den.

Maybe I won’t ever see my sister again, but it’s a small comfort to know that if I do die tonight, or if he won’t let me go, at least she won’t be placed in the line of fire anymore.

But if I do make it out, I’ll hopefully do so a little less ignorant than I was when I left the house just now.

When I make it to the address, I realise it’s an abandoned warehouse. Not abandoned a year ago, but abandoned years ago, given the rust and the broken windows littering the façade.

I park my car across the street, then make my way over to the double doors leading to the warehouse.

I knock (why did I just knock?), but no one comes to get me. I wait a few minutes before I give up and open the door myself.

It’s a large, open space, filled with discarded trash of all kinds. Furniture, a pile of electronics in the corner, and several piles of old, torn apart clothing.

It looks terrifying, and I shiver, not entirely from the cold, damp air in this warehouse.

I realise why he chose this spot. It’s incredibly isolated, and he’d easily see if I came with anyone but myself. That isolation sends fear through my body.

Why did I come here? I’m fucking crazy. He’s insane, he’s not going to give me any of the answers I want. Why would he? No, he’s just going to tie me up and fuck me until he’s bored of me.

Then he’ll kill me.

Fear courses through my veins, and I turn around, but I slam into a hard chest instead.

I look up and up, finding piercing blue eyes staring right through me.

I open my mouth. To speak, to scream, I have no idea. But only a squeak makes it out before I feel a sharp pain in the side of my neck.

And then nothing.

I didn’t think she’d come here tonight. In truth, I’d been planning to lure her here for some time, but I thought I’d have to drag her by her hair. But no, she came her willingly. She came here, knowing what sort of man I am, and practically threw herself into my arms.

She tried to leave, because of course she did. But I’m a pragmatic man, so I was prepared. Sedating Elsie wasn’t my first idea, but the second I felt the needle puncture her skin, the second she fell into my waiting arms, blood rushed to my cock.

She looked so beautiful in my arms. So innocent and breakable. I couldn’t stop looking at her face, the way her puffy lips were slightly parted. The way her eyes fluttered.

But I knew I couldn’t have her then. No, the first time I fuck her, I want her awake for me. I want her to feel every single fucking inch I give her, the way I stretch her. And she’ll love it, even if she hates that she does.

While this warehouse looks abandoned, I’ve been here several times. I should probably clean it sometime, but I don’t want to risk catching anyone’s attention.

There are several rooms in here I use for various things, such as storage, and soon, breaking Elsie. She’s up in one of them right now, just a floor above me, while I’m preparing.

Her throat will be incredibly dry when she wakes up, so I have some water for her. She’ll have to earn it, of course, but I only want her alive for me.

My cock is killing me, though. I’ve been on edge for the past week. Breaking into her house again nearly broke my resolve, especially when I saw all her cheeky little panties in her drawer.

I hope she’s not planning on wearing them for anyone but me. Not that I’m giving her much of a choice. When I’m done with her, she’s not going to be able to say anything but my name or remember anything but the way her pussy cries for me.

I’m desperate to hear her scream my name. I’ve been avoiding telling her. My safety is one concern, but I know that even with my name, she won’t be able to report me to anyone. No, I just want her on edge. Giving her my name is a deeply personal thing, giving her a piece of my real identity.

It’s time, though. Time for her to know the name of the demon I am, the one who owns her.

I grab a few water bottles and a quick bite to eat, then make my way upstairs. The room I’ve stuffed her into has no windows, and it’s sparsely furnished, containing only a bed and some shelves for storage.

I have plenty of tools, though. Plenty of possibilities for fun. She’ll learn to love the way I hurt her with them, to beg me for it. She’ll learn that pain and pleasure go hand in hand for her, and that I’m willing to give her plenty of both.

I open the door, sighing contently at how she’s still asleep. She looks beautiful when she’s asleep, but now, I actually get to wake her.

She’s on the bed, laying on her side. Her hands are tied behind her back and a piece of cloth is in her mouth, wrapped around her head. Around her pretty neck is a tight little collar, chained to the headboards of the bed. I love when she fights me, but I want her to listen to me when she wakes up, so the binds stay on.

I set the water down on the floor next to her, and she stirs. She slowly opens her eyes. She doesn’t look scared yet, probably because she’s confused and disoriented, but it doesn’t take long before her eyes fly open.

She sits up, only to be pulled back down by the collar around her neck. She groans, and I almost feel bad for how that must’ve hurt her throat. But I don’t. Instead, the sound of her agony just makes me even more desperate to fuck her.

I crouch in front of her, and she whimpers in fear, wriggling in her bonds as hard as she can, but they’re too tight. I smile. With how she’s tied up for me, she can’t get away. She can only wriggle around like a fish out of water.

I patiently wait for her little tantrum to stop. When she stops moving, I give an appreciative little hum, and she lets out another whimper. The cloth in her mouth is drenched with her drool. She tries swallowing, but she only manages to push more drool out of her mouth.

“Hey there,” I say. The sound of my voice makes her still, and I can only imagine how wet she is right now.

I didn’t undress her, not wanting to tempt myself too much, but I will need to soon.

I help her sit up, then give her the most valuable gift I could ever give her. The one word I’ve been dying to hear spoken with her angelic voice, to be screamed when I plunge deep inside her.

There’s no going back after this, no letting her go. From tonight, she’ll know the name of her shadow. She doesn’t know me yet, but she will soon.

I give her a sinister little smile before I speak. “I’m Rowan,” I purr.

Thanks for reading!💜