My stalker follows me home. He's been getting more obvious over the weeks since I refused him at his club. I'm certain I know which brother it is. It's the boss, the silver fox, not his younger brothers or one of his men. I only turned him down because I was afraid to submit. I'd heard the rumours and despite how they made me wet I was also sensible, at least that night.

I know he's been here while I sleep. There are vivid dreams of him peeling back the bed sheet and touching me, masturbating over my body. The dried cum on my tits confirm they aren't simply my desires. I've also found the tissues with his cum in the bin beside my bed many mornings. His aftershave still lingers faintly in the air I'm breathing.

I know he's drugged me somehow as I'm also having dreams about him every time I sleep, dreams that leave me dripping but frustrated. Dreams of ropes and chains, whips and clamps and plugs. Dreams of his solid body crushing mine as he uses me mercilessly, fucking me in whichever hole he wants. Dreams of me worshipping his hard cock as I kneel chained at his feet.

I'm now officially obsessed by this kingpin, despite of the danger. Or maybe because of it. I can only get myself off thinking about him, but it's unsatisfying.

I need him to step up, to do more than watch and cum over my sleeping body.

The first night I went to bed, freshly shaved and naked I found clover clamps on the pillow when I awoke. My cunt was drenched all day, anticipating that night but, despite seeing his car follow me he did not do anything that I was aware of. The next morning there was a note beside the bed. Simple but powerful words "Use my gifts" had me murmuring "Yes Master" under my breath. Words I'd never dared to say before. Words that left me breathless.

That night I obediently clamped my D-cup tits at bedtime, the pain almost making me cum. A single pinch of my clit and I was there. Never had I cum so fast. Thinking of him combined with the pain when I removed them was enough to have my cunt spasming again. In the morning the words "Good cunt" had been added to the note.

Knowing I can't hide, or even want to, combined with the fact he will come back whenever he wants, keeps me constantly aroused. He has obviously decided the cameras I recently found aren’t enough any more. He now visits every night and paints me in his cum. Sometimes when I awake my cunt is plugged, sometimes my wrists show the marks of handcuffs.

I bought a journal for us to use instead of notes on sheets of paper. I want to keep them, to cherish them when he gets bored with me. My journey into depavity is clearly shown. The toys barely fit in my bedside unit, the Sybian machine certainly doesn't. I'm very aware of the fact I'm being trained to his tastes.

I'm desperate for him to act, to take me fully into his world as his fuckpet slave. Hopefully he will keep me, not sell me.

I startle awake at the feel of rough hands dragging me off the bed. I instantly know this is not my stalker. It is a stranger. No, it's two strangers.

I'm forcibly gagged as I breathe in the stench of booze. My hands and feet are quickly tied. I'm thrown over the shoulder of one of them and we leave. He carries me like I weigh nothing, easily jogging down the stairs with my naked body. Obviously they've done this before, probably many times.

I can't fight them and know it won't end well.

I wonder what He will think when He finds His toy gone...