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!💜)

“So, Elsie,” the officer across from me starts. Officer Berkley? Barton? Burke? Something with a B, but I can’t remember for the life of me. “Can you describe the man that took you?”

“Sure, I–“ My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. I’ve been feeling dehydrated since I woke up this morning, it’s really annoying.

I continue. “He was blonde.” He was not blonde. “He had a moustache.” He did not, in fact, have a moustache. “And he had brown eyes.” God, his eyes were anything but brown.

The officer hums while she scribbles a few notes. “And did you catch a name, by any chance?”

“No,” I say immediately. Why did I say that? Why am I lying about him? It’s not like the truth would give them much more to go on anyway. In fact, if it weren’t for my sudden disappearance in the middle of the night and the sedative drugs in my system, I don’t think they would even believe I was abducted.

Or, well, I wasn’t abducted. I went willingly, but that’s not what I told them. I told them I got a strange text, and when I went outside to investigate, someone took me. Neither Sophie nor the neighbours have security cameras, which I hadn’t even thought about until Officer what’s-her-name told me about it with a sympathetic smile. Thank god for that, truly.

“I want to go home. Please.” It’s the fourth time I’ve asked, but Sophie and the police don’t want me to go yet. I can’t take their scrutiny. Their gentle expressions do little to soften the blow of how they’re prying me open with pliers, trying to get as much out of me as they can before I completely shut down.

I’ve been on a tightrope all day. A single gust of wind is going to toss me in either direction, either into Rowan’s annoyingly large arms or the uncertainty of going against him.

I would desperately like to say that I’m lying about Rowan because I’m scared. Scared that he’ll come after me, that I’ll put my sister in danger.

But I can’t.

Sure, part of me is scared. Terrified, actually. But mostly, I just don’t know how I can explain what happened to them. How my stalker ate me out on my floor and gave me a soul crushing orgasm, and a few weeks later did the same with his thick cock. I don’t know how to explain why I never said anything before.

And…I don’t want to pretend I hated it. God, how I wish I did, but I’ve become addicted. Every rose I get, every time I see him, every time I think about his eyes…it’s like my first hit of a drug in weeks. A rush pours through my whole body any time I get another glimpse of him. I hate it, but I can’t get enough.

As fucked up as it is to admit, part of me doesn’t want this to end. I think that’s been the case for a while, but it was only when I woke up this morning that I admitted it to myself.

The first thing I saw when I woke up was my sister’s terrified face, followed by the white rose on my nightstand. I was sore as hell between my legs, and that combined with the sight of the rose made me nearly fall to my knees with need.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me, nor do I think I want to find out. And I especially don’t want my sister to find out.

She practically dragged me here to the police station just minutes after she woke me up, and I can’t say I blame her. They weren’t very concerned, honestly, until Sophie tore them a new one for not helping me.

They did some bloodwork and basic tests–finding the sedatives in my system–and that perked them up. Next, they wanted to take a look at my private areas, but I told them absolutely fucking not.

They tried to insist, but Sophie, thank god, stood up for me and told them to fuck off.

Still, it’s not very difficult for them to piece together what Rowan did to me while I was at the warehouse. Oh, that’s another thing. I didn’t tell them where I was, even though I had the address. I gave some vague, albeit true, descriptions of what I could see, which admittedly didn’t help narrow down my location very much.

And that leads to where I sit now, feeling like a criminal being yelled at to confess while a bright light is shone right in my eyes. The officer across from me gives me a tight smile. “You’ll go home soon, I promise. There’s just a few more questions I want to ask you, okay?”

I nod, because I really just want this to be over with.

“So, I want to make it clear that I’m asking this purely to clear something up, not because I don’t believe your story.” She pauses, waiting for me to confirm I heard her. My heartbeat is audible in my ears as I nod. “Do you know how your car ended up at your house, when it was parked at your sister’s house the night before?”

“Uhm…” Fuck, I have no idea how to answer this. I assume Rowan used my car and drove me home when he was done with me. I still don’t understand why he dropped me off at my place, though. Did he want me to end up in this situation? Is this a test, to see if I’m going to rat him out? Or does he just want to torment me? He’s a sadistic fuck so it checks out.

I clear my throat, and despite my best efforts, tears well in my eyes. Sophie places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay if you don’t know, sweetheart.”

The officer nods, and I shake my head, silently telling her that I don’t know.

Sophie speaks up again. “Maybe he didn’t have his own car?”

“Do you remember?” the officer asks. “If he had his own car or yours when he took you?”

“I don’t.” My voice breaks a little. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t worry, we’ll find him.” Her reassuring tone is so sweet. I hate lying to her. “We have some guys checking your phone right now, by the way. You said you got a weird text, right?”

“Yeah,” I say, and I mean, that’s not a lie, at least. I did check my phone on the way here, but our entire conversation was gone. Every photo and text had seemingly disappeared in an instant. Before we left, I went to my laptop to check the camera footage, but every single second of it had also been erased. In fact, the only footage saved was just from five minutes after Sophie arrived. Whatever he did, it was deliberate, and it was thorough as fuck.

“I think he deleted it somehow,” I continue. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I remember what it said.” I remember exactly what it said.

“Don’t worry, Elsie, we can find deleted text messages.” She says it so casually, like it should be a relief to me, but it just makes me sweat. If they find the texts from last night, they’ll see how much of a fucking liar I am.

“Can uh,” I start. “Can I have my phone back, please?”

“You’ll get it back before you leave, but I can’t rule out that they won’t ask for it back at a later date.” I nod with an appreciative smile.

“Alright,” Sophie says. “Thank you for your help, Officer Meadows.”

Meadows? I was way off.

She smiles. “Of course. Call us if anything else happens, okay? And uh,” she looks up at Sophie. “Keep an eye on her, will you?”

I somehow keep from rolling my eyes.

I must be sweating like hell, because when Sophie removes her hand from my shoulder, it feels slick. I feel like I’m about to stumble into a lie I can’t walk back, a lie that will be exposed when I walk out of here.

I don’t know what happens then, and that terrifies me.

But when we exit the police station, what terrifies me most is not knowing what Rowan will do next. Does he have ways of finding out what I told the police? If he finds out I protected him, will he think I want him? That I want him to keep me?

I don’t know whether that thought excites me or terrifies me. I sigh. It’s probably both.

“No, absolutely fucking not.”

I sigh. Of course she doesn’t want to leave me alone in my own house. “Please, Sophie, I promise I’ll be fine.”

“How can you say that?” she sounds unhinged, not that I blame her. Robert is practically cowering behind his wife, but I don’t miss his concerned eyes raking over my face every now and then. “Please just come home with us.”

“I can’t,” I say. “I’ve already been with you guys for weeks. I need some space, you know that.”

“I know you’re stubborn as hell.” Her eyes widen. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

I give a sad smile. “It’s true, though. Which is why you should know I’m not backing down from this.”

She lets out a long sigh. “Fine,” she grits out, but before I can celebrate, she continues. “But within certain rules, you got it?” I nod, waiting for her to continue. “We’re checking on you every day, and I’m calling you every hour. If you don’t answer, I’ll come here to check on you, with 9-1-1 on speed-dial.”

“That’s fine.” Feels suffocating as hell, but I can’t say no to her. Not now.

“Oh, and we also want to be able to monitor your cameras.”

I chuckle a little. “Sophie, I don’t want you to watch me shower. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not what I meant!” She takes a breath. “Fine, but I want the ones pointing outside your house, okay?”

I nod, because that’s not an unreasonable demand.

With a way too hard hug from the both of them, they leave, and the second I walk back into my house, I scream.

Rowan is standing in my living room. Had Sophie or Robert walked inside at any point within the last few minutes, they would’ve seen him.

“Shut up!” he demands. He’s seething. I’ve spoken to him only twice before, yet I feel so familiar with him that I feel like this is a new side of him. I’ve heard him give me harsh demands, felt his dominant hand around my neck, but I don’t think I’ve seen him genuinely angry.

I halt in the hallway, a short distance from him. He looks terrifying, breathing heavily, like he’s holding back yet charging up for something.

I turn to run, unable to take his terrifying demeanour. Obviously, I don’t make it far, as he grabs my arms before I can take five steps. He slams me against the wall so hard that the picture frames littering it shake.

His face comes within inches of mine, his heavy pants fanning my face. “What the fuck did you tell them?” he demands.

“Nothing!” I scream, but with how quickly I reply, he obviously doesn’t buy it. “Please, Rowan, I didn’t tell them anything!”

“Fucking liar. Why did you even talk to them then, hm?” He grabs both of my wrists and pins them above my head. The position feels so exposed, like he can take whatever he wants from me right now. His other hand wraps tightly around my throat, and I pale.

“Please,” I beg. “I promise I didn’t say anything.” He doesn’t stop squeezing. I can barely breathe, and I start flailing as hard as I can, but there’s nothing I can do to defend myself. The small breaths I manage to drag in and push out tickle the hair laying in a mess over my face. “Let me…” I trail off when my vision darkens.

His grip loosens, and the gasp I take is truly desperate. He grips my hair in a firm grip, forcing me to look him in the eye. “Talk,” he demands. He looks desperate, even a little scared, but I don’t revel in this new side of him. I cower, terrified of what he’ll do to me.

But I still manage to piece together that he feels powerless, somehow. Did he not mean to put me here when he was done with me yesterday? Did he make a mistake? Or, again, is this just another one of his twisted games, designed to torment me into submission?

“Sophie made me go,” I say, honestly. “I didn’t want to.”

“What the fuck did you tell them?” He repeats his earlier question.

“I didn’t tell them the truth. That you’re a sick fuck who stole me in the middle of the night. That you tied me up and raped me after you fucking drugged me!” I probably shouldn’t say things like that, but his choking me has killed my common sense.

He doesn’t get angrier, yet his following words feel angry and harsh. “I didn’t steal you, Elsie. You fucking came to me.” I don’t miss how he doesn’t deny my other accusations. “Did you tell them I fucked you? That your pussy was begging for it? That you came when I pinched your desperate clit between my fingers?” A pause. "What about where you came to me? The warehouse. Did you tell them where that was?"

“No,” I grit out, humiliation heating my face. “I didn’t.”

He smiles condescendingly, like he’s fucking happy with me. “Such a good little girl for me, aren’t you? Keeping your pretty mouth shut.” I don’t miss the bite in his praise.

“Fuck you,” I spit, renewing my fight. He doesn’t relent, in fact his grip tightens.

I’m breathing heavily by the time I stop fighting. “I thought you learned yesterday that I own you.” He lets me go, and I crumple. I fall to the ground, feeling tears falling onto the floor. My hands brace on his feet from where I’m kneeling beneath him. “You shouldn’t have talked to the police,” he says, and I audibly swallow. “I fucking warned you.”

He grabs my hair again, making me face him. “I didn’t tell them anything,” I whimper for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Does it look like I give a shit?” It doesn't really look like he gives a shit. “I warned you not to talk to anyone. You know what happens to girls who don’t fucking listen?”

I shake my head. I don’t know, and I don’t want to find out.

He unbuckles his belt, and blood drains from my face.

Elsie visibly pales when I pull my aching cock out. It springs free, hitting her in the face. She looks almost offended, but I can’t even fucking smile anymore.

I’m pissed the fuck off. I rushed here after I realised my mistake. But when I came here, watching Sophie’s car drive off, I realised that I’m a fucking idiot.

What the hell was I going to do if I came here before Sophie dragged her sister to the police station? I didn’t know, and it just made me angrier.

When I rushed into her house, I was this close to tearing it apart, but I calmed myself down. I spent the next hour making sure I deleted all electronic traces I’d left behind. All texts and video footage–gone. I know the police have ways to find deleted text messages, but they can’t find my deleted text messages. That, I am sure of.

But for the next few hours, I had no idea what to do. I can’t stand feeling powerless, and it’s all Elsie’s fault that I felt like that. If she had just stayed home and not gone to the fucking police, I wouldn’t feel like this.

But then again, she also wouldn’t be swallowing my cock at this moment.

Truly, the sight of her pink lips wrapping around my length has got to be one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Of course, all the beautiful things in the world revolve around her, but this is up there among the best.

Especially when I hit the back of her throat and she begins choking. Hearing her suffering for me, sputtering around me and desperately trying to breathe is fucking therapeutic.

I can’t stop watching. The pain of her fingernails digging into my jean-clad thighs, the way she’s trying her hardest to keep from biting me. I smile, a genuine smile, at how Elsie doesn’t need to be told to not bite my cock. She’s learning quickly, even if she nearly caused me a heart attack this morning.

When I think she can’t take it anymore, I wait another five seconds (okay, probably closer to ten seconds) before I grip her hair and pull out. She gasps, desperately sucking in air. She’s panting so hard that she breathes in her own saliva, causing her to cough and writhe in my grip. Streaks of shed tears cover her beautiful face.

I swear she’s never been as fucking gorgeous as she is now.

I let her breathe for a second before I slam her down onto my length again. I hold her there, not relenting even when she’s pushing and slapping against me.

“If you don’t stop that I’ll tie your fucking hands behind your back.” My warning makes her calm down a little. She sticks her hands to her sides, trying desperately to stay still, but it’s a losing battle.

Especially when I lean further into her, pushing just a little deeper. When I pull out again, she’s still in tears. Her hair is a mess, both from all the sweat and tears it’s sticking to and from how I’m gripping it.

“Please,” she sobs. “I can’t.”

I smile. “I know you can’t, Elsie.” Her eyes light up with hope for a moment. It’s beautiful, really, especially when I dash that hope away in an instant. “But I don’t care.” The way her eyes dim, the light leaving her as another defeated sob takes over…fuck it’s beautiful. I groan in pleasure at the sight.

I push her mouth back down onto my cock, moaning when I feel her tongue trying to push against it, like she can use that alone to push away from me.

I’m close, I’m so fucking close, but I do my best to keep from finishing too soon. I want to enjoy this. I want her to fucking suffer for me, for as long as I can.

With that in mind, I keep her around my cock for as long as possible. I don’t move, I’m desperate to not cause friction, but then her throat constricts around me, and I can’t take it anymore.

I pull out slowly, all the way until her plump lips are just wrapped around the head, then push back in. I do the same motion, but then I pick up the pace, and soon, I’m eagerly and recklessly fucking her throat.

She’s clawing away at me again, but I’m too lost and too far gone to care. If anything, her fighting me just makes me that much more turned on.

I keep going for what can only be another thirty seconds, but god, those thirty seconds have got to be the best thirty seconds of my life. I come deep in her little throat, slamming her down onto me to force her to swallow every single drop I give her.

She does, and I hum in appreciation. She says she hates this, that she hates me. She fights me at every turn. She tries to fucking run away from me.

And yet, she still swallows my come like my good little girl. She comes on my tongue when I lap her up. She eagerly drinks water, her salvation, straight from my mouth. And her walls constrict and tighten around my cock when I fuck her like she’s worthless.

Elsie hates me as much as she loves me. She fights me as much as her pussy begs for me to fuck her.

I forced my way into her life. I forced her to accommodate all of me, all the fucked-up pieces of myself, but she was eager to let me. She loves that I don’t give her a choice, that I take away all her worries about what’s right and what’s wrong.

She touches herself to thoughts of me, something that’s not hard to figure out with the way she sobs into her pillow afterwards. When I leave her, she’s going to finish herself off, because what else is she going to do?

And when she comes, her throat feeling raw and abused, her hair a mess, tears streaking down her beautiful face… It will be my fucking name spilling from her lips.

Elsie looks like a mess, sobbing quietly on the floor after having swallowed my come. If I was a kind man, I’d feel bad for her. I’d hug her, tell her it’s okay and run her a bath.

But I’m not.

My mistake nearly made me do something incredibly fucking reckless. I drove to her house, in my car. I could’ve been seen by anyone. I nearly chased her sister’s car when they drove off. It’s a fucking miracle I managed to restrain myself.

And then I nearly tore her house apart when I rushed inside. This girl, this fucking sobbing and whimpering mess beneath me, haunts me as much as I haunt her. She makes me lose control, makes me powerless and reckless.

She looks pathetic, but I feel the exact same way inside. I was almost caught today. If she had seen me, if a flicker of terror and recognition had flashed in her gaze, and her sister seen it, I would’ve been done for.

I need to be more fucking careful.

And that’s a realisation I should’ve had before I came here. Because when I grab Elsie’s phone from her table, intent on texting Sophie that she’s fine, I see several missed calls from her and Robert.

I put her phone down. Elsie looks at me. She’s calmed down somewhat, but she looks like a mess, still. If her sister sees her like this, I don’t know what the fuck she’s going to do.

But I suspect I might be about to find out. Because I barely manage to drag Elsie upstairs with me before I hear the front door unlocking. A moment later, Sophie’s terrified voice fills the house.

Thanks for reading! 💜 If you caught the easter egg from a certain book, then I love you and you deserve the world mwuah😘