The Element of Fear

hunterskill:I force her legs apart, then pull and let them rest on my shoulder and she struggles to keep them there, as the strain on the rope deprives her of even more breath. I savour the scent of her pussy and use one hand to pull her labia apart, rubbing up and down her only marginally damp mound. I bury my face between her legs, lapping the length of her womanhood like a dog, suckling a little on her clit. Just for the feeling of it, I don't want her excited and wet. When I let her legs drop to the ground, she struggles violently to fight the choking sensation and find a foothold on the damp earth.

hunterskill:She has steadied herself now and breathes shallowly, her face a masterpiece of an expression of furtive unwanted lust, temporary relief and a dark premonition of the coming ordeal. She gets a clearer idea of what's to come when I strip off my fatigues and show her the weapon of my choice now, which has achieved the fullest possible extent, which is, as I have been told, way above average. She looks almost too content for my taste now, so I decide to give her a bit more to worry about than being fucked to pieces and first cut off two strands of her hair, which are a bit clotty with blood from my earlier reprimand. I trace her quivering body with the cold metal blade, which nicely reflects the reddish rays of the sun trapped in some morning mist close to the horizon. Then I stick it in the back of the trunk with one hard push, to have it handy later on.

hunterskill:I grab her legs at the hollows of her knees and lift them up, so that she has to wrap them around me if she doesn't want to choke and enter her in full length with one hard thrust. Her face distorts in pain and agony. Well, as much as I enjoy tempo and rhythm, in these moments I prefer the slow brutal grating of her inner passage, until her body can't help it any more and lubricates in a desperate attempt to avoid injury. To my chagrin that happens very quickly so I hasten to make up for it in fucking her faster and occasionally letting her feel the rope a bit more.

hunterskill:I even manage to work up a bit of sweat and sweeten the experience for her by reciting a few of Shakespeare's sonnets, hoping she appreciates good literature. She is losing consciousness a couple of times, which angers me a little, so I cut a tad into her shoulder to wake her up and revel in the experience throughout. Ah, the taste of blood. I suckle on her wounds, but this drives me over the edge much too soon, so I cum already after forty minutes, before I have really worn her out and she comes only once when she almost chokes at the same time.

hunterskill:I withdraw and sit down on the cool ground while she struggles again to get into a position where she isn't strangling herself. I light a cigarette, content with the sight of her spectacular beauty, bathed in the morning sun, adorned with wonderful rivulets of blood on her body and semen dripping out of her aching pussy. I curse myself for having forgotten to take my camera again, so I just take a mental snapshot and close my eyes for now.

hunterskill:Sorry for rambling on so long … Did you enjoy it though?

sweetprey: Yes

sweetprey: That was quite a fantasy …

hunterskill:Hm … did it do anything for you?

sweetprey: Oh yes, I think it will stay on my mind for quite a while.

hunterskill:Good, that means that I will stay on your mind for a while. Well, I hope that won't be the only place where we can be together.

sweetprey:Well … I am still not sure if meeting up would be a good idea, though. You just know too much about me …

sweetprey: Let me think about it some more.

hunterskill:No, not really. I still don't know your real name, who you are … you haven't even sent me a picture of you, so that I can imagine you …

sweetprey: If I sent you a picture that wouldn't be imagining … Some of those I have on my computer here, are … Well … but, I don't think you will get to see them though.

hunterskill:Oh well, then my sweet prey will remain faceless for now. Maybe another time …

sweetprey: Maybe. Or maybe not. See it like that, I can have any face you want me to have.

sweetprey: A picture might be disappointing, you never know.

hunterskill:No, I don't think so. So much inner sweetness must reflect on your outer body …

sweetprey: *blushes* thanks … he, he, but maybe I am not as sweet as it seems …

hunterskill:Ah, that sounds great too. Isn't it strange, we hardly know anything about how we really are, but that makes it even more interesting and hot …

sweetprey: I am glad I "met" you though. In a way, it actually quite changed my life.

hunterskill:Well, I am glad you are enjoying this as much as I do. I hope I will be able to be everything for you ever dreamt of.

sweetprey: Well your little story there will definitely give me something to dream of. I think it's time for me to call it a night now though. Work early tomorrow.

hunterskill:Yes, you need your sleep. And your dreams. Hot, wet dreams I hope?

sweetprey: I hope so too, and wish the same to you.

hunterskill:Yes … thank you, I'm sure they will be. So sleep well, my little prey … and I see you tomorrow? Same place, same time?

sweetprey: Yes. I might be here a bit later, have to do some shopping, so please don't go away if you don't see me, I will hurry home as soon as possible.

hunterskill:Oh, I will wait for you. For as long as it takes. Till then. Good night.

sweetprey: Good night.

***

20.Jan.2007

hunterskill:Hi my sweet prey … how are you tonight?

sweetprey: Good … Quite cold lately, but now I am home finally …

sweetprey: How are you?

hunterskill:Not so bad, not so bad. But a little sad actually …

sweetprey: Sad? Why's that?

hunterskill:Well, I love spending time with you here online, obviously … but I am sad that you still don't want to meet me … in person … Have you thought about it a bit more?

sweetprey: I have … But … You know, one hears all kinds of stories … And I told you so much, sometimes I worry you might misunderstand some things …

hunterskill:Yeah, stories. And I don't think I misunderstand you … quite the contrary … I think I am the only person who really understands you …

hunterskill:The only person that can make your dreams come true …

hunterskill:Maybe I know you even better than you yourself.

sweetprey: How can you think you are the only person that understands me, if you have never even met me?

sweetprey: I am really curious to meet you sometimes, but I am just not sure it is a good idea.

hunterskill:I know what you want. And if I was about to do something you don't want, there is always a safety mechanism one can apply - a safety word for instance …

hunterskill:Like … fear.

hunterskill:That is a nice word, isn't it?

sweetprey: Well it is a nice word … But isn't it a bit strange for a safety word?

hunterskill:Hehe, I am a strange man … and I thrive on fear. Don't worry, there is nothing I would do you don't really want. But how can we ever find out about who and what we are in real life if we don't take the chance and meet?

sweetprey: Look, I will think about it some more … Maybe, some day, in a safe place …

sweetprey: But if you keep asking I might decide for never.

hunterskill:How about the photo you promised for ages?

sweetprey: I will see what I can do about it … But not today …

hunterskill:Yes, not today. You will think about. Of course.

sweetprey: I will …

sweetprey: Come on, is it that important?

sweetprey: I thought you were talking to me because you enjoy our conversations …

hunterskill:Yes, I do enjoy our conversations. But sometimes I think you just don't know what you want from me, or are afraid to give yourself to me.

sweetprey: Well what I want from you is talk to you. Anything else might develop over the time, or might not.

sweetprey: *sigh*

sweetprey: Look, I am sorry if you were expecting something different

sweetprey: I really wish our conversations could just go back to the way they used to be.

hunterskill:Well, I know what I want. And I always get what I want.

sweetprey: Well we shall see …

sweetprey: Damn, this computer is driving me crazy!

sweetprey: Do you know anything about computers?

hunterskill:Yes, just enough for my purposes though. Is it slow right now?

sweetprey: Yes. It's always a bit slow, but today is worse than ever.

sweetprey: I tried to log into my email account, and it just won't open …

hunterskill:Hehe, maybe someone is hacking you. You never know, there are lots of weirdoes out there …

hunterskill:Probably nothing though … That happens at times …

hunterskill:Well, if we would meet one day, I could fix your computer … and not only that …

sweetprey: Come on, that's enough now.

sweetprey: I think I am tired. I will just wait till I get into my emails, and after that I might go to sleep.

hunterskill:Just stay with me a little longer. Then I will be silent. If that is what you want.

sweetprey: Hehe, what use is it staying with you if you are silent?

sweetprey: You could tell me some more of your stories … That might make me stay a bit more …

hunterskill:Stories … yes, I could do that.

hunterskill:But I have had quite enough of telling you stories. To be honest, now I have had enough time with you on here altogether. You may not understand what silence means right now, but you sure will in the future.

sweetprey: Well then … I will learn all about silence. Good. I am going to bed now. Good-bye.

hunterskill:Good bye my little prey. I will see you soon.

sweetprey: Tomorrow I suppose. Unless you are still silent.

sweetprey: Bye.

***

27.Jan.2007

"Are you sure you want to delete your account? This process cannot be reversed."

For a few moments Darlene let the mouse hover over the little pop up window, wandering back and forth between the "OK" and the "Cancel". Should she, really?

It was over. Gone. Maybe it was a bit melodramatic to delete her account, but it seemed the only way to stop her from logging in every day, every hour to see if he was online now maybe, or at least had left her some kind of message.

It was time to end that now. Seven days had passed since her last conversation with hunterskill. Hunterskill. What kind of name was that anyway?

'I don't even know his real name,' she realized.

Nor did he know hers, of course. Maybe she shouldn't have been quite as hesitant … But she had wanted to meet up! Eventually. If he just hadn't been quite as …

'Stop it!'

She stared at the screen. Damn, one could think she had a crush. On a guy she never even met. On a weirdo who kept asking for her name, for pictures, to meet her. And then, when she wanted to wait just a little bit longer, he had stopped talking to her altogether, without any warning. Or well, with warning, but how could she have known he was serious? And what if …

Come on, delete the account. Maybe she should at first check her emails again, though? No, no … She should delete, turn off the computer and do whatever she used to do every evening two or three months ago, before that whole thing started. Whatever that was. A movie maybe. Or she could call Carol. Or … Whatever. First get this over with and turn off the computer.

With a sigh Darlene clicked "OK".

***

3.Feb.2007

Dring! Dring!

The sound of the phone worked its way mercilessly through to her brain. … pulled the blanket over her head. Damn thing. Tired. What time was it anyway? Her hand searched for her mobile phone on the bedside table. The next moment she sat up in her bed. The chill of winter air coming into her room from the open window helped to clear her mind.

Eight thirty. Damn. Why hadn't the alarm … The empty wine bottles over by the TV indicated she might have forgotten to set it.

Dring!

The landline phone was still ringing.

Darlene jumped out of the bed and almost slipped and fell: Apparently she had just dropped her clothes in a pile in front of the bed when she was tired enough to sleep. She steadied herself and reached the phone a moment later. Still out of breath she picked it up.

"Yes?"

Was it just her bare feet or the silence on the other side that sent a chill up her spine? Darlene waited a few seconds. The silence seemed to fill her head, her one-room-apartment, the world.

"Hello?"

Nothing. Silence, except for the sound of her heart violently beating. Then there was a beeping inside the phone; whoever had been on the other end had hung up. She stared at the phone in her hand for a few moments, before she did the same.

Dring!

As soon as she had hung up the phone, it rang again. Her fingers hadn't even fully let go of it yet.

"Hello!?"

Her voice sounded more anxious than she had intended.

Again, she was met with silence. She could feel her heartbeat increasing again, it almost hurt. Then, however, after a second of hesitation, the silence was broken by a female voice on the other side of the phone.

"Wow! That was fast. I hadn't expected you to answer the phone quite as soon."

"Carol! Thank God, it's you."

Relief.

"Who else should it be?" Carol answered, "Where the hell are you anyway? It's eight thirty. We've been worried."

"Sorry, I overslept … Listen, did you try to call me just a minute ago?"

"No. Why?"

"I had one of these creepy calls again. You know, where there's no one there."

"Oh … Well, I wouldn't worry too much about those," Carol said, "It's probably just some fuck-up with the phone lines. I sometimes get those too."

"Maybe … Except, I get them more often than sometimes," Darlene sighed, "At least it woke me up. I'll be there in half an hour."

"No need to hurry. The boss isn't in today. It's just Anthony and me. So … You overslept. Big night out yesterday?" Carol seemed in a chatty mood.

As usual, really. But her voice helped Darlene to drown out the questions from her mind, to calm down the fast beat of her heart.

"No, just watching TV … And I suppose I had a glass or two … Don't know, I just don't feel that well lately."

"Oh, sweetie, you should have called me. And you really need to get out more. When's the last time you went on a date, by the way?"

Darlene decided not to reply to that question, but Carol just continued, "You are still coming to our Valentine's party, aren't you? We have a kind of surprise for you … Well … Roger has invited this old friend of his. Apparently a really nice guy. And good looking and Roger thinks he should be just your type."

"Carol …" Darlene made a feeble attempt to protest, but Carol just kept going on about how she should keep less to herself, and how many guys were interested in her if she just gave them a chance, and …

Eventually Darlene managed to interrupt her friend's rambles.

"Look, I'm freezing – I'm not even dressed yet. And if I don't get going soon, I'll never get to work."

"Of course," Carol seemed slightly taken aback, "See you in half an hour, then."

While she got dressed, Darlene's thoughts returned to the phone call before Carol's. Why did it freak her out that much? Carol was probably right, something messed up with the lines, the phone company, or whatever. Or maybe someone had a number very similar to hers, so people kept misdialling. They could of course say something in such a case.

For some reason, the memory of hunterskill asking for her phone number invaded her mind. He had wanted to hear her voice. But that was nonsense, he didn't have her number, so what could he have had to do with these phone calls? And anyway, there hadn't been that many mysterious calls, really. Maybe four or five over the last two weeks, not more.

Two weeks. She was dressed now, and walked into the bathroom. For a few moments she stopped in front of the mirror. Her reflection looked a bit too pale for her own taste. The increase of her alcohol consumption and probably also the excess of silly movies were showing. With a sigh she grabbed her toothbrush. Carol was right, she needed to get out more, meet people, guys.

Two weeks, and she still didn't quite know what to do with her in the evenings, without their conversations. How pathetic. He probably had just found someone new to talk to, and so should she. Preferably someone real. Someone, whose face she could see right from the first moment, someone she could trust more than that nutter who was chatting up strange girls over the internet.

But hopefully someone who still could understand her as well as … Oh, cut it out!

Her teeth were brushed, hair was okay, it was nine by now, and probably she should just grab something for breakfast on the way to work to save time. Within a minute she had locked her apartment's door and was hurrying down the stairs. On the ground floor she passed the mailboxes. Something white was blinking in hers. Oh well, she could get it when she got home. Probably just more bills, anyway. Then again … She fished the keys out of her coat pocket, and opened the mailbox.

Inside, there was just a piece of paper, folded up twice. Her fingers were shaking a bit when she retrieved and unfolded it. Only one sentence was written there, in large, tidy letters:

"Don't forget the element of fear."

***

6.Feb.2007

The telephone rang. It took him a while to realise that this wasn't on the TV set, and that he must have had dozed off again. His snoring bed neighbour didn't even wake up from the noise. He hastened to answer the phone.

"Yes hello?"

"Hullo old chap. How's the head? And the rest of you?"

"Ah, it's you. Much better, thanks. How did you know that I am in the hospital?"

"Well, I rang your workplace, since you didn't answer your phone at home. They told me. So what the fuck happened?"

Ron sighed and tried to sit up a bit more in the bed. His eyes scanned the sides, but he could not find the remote to adjust the height of the back support.

"A lot of bollocks, that's what happened. I came home after work and discovered that someone had broken into my flat. All valuables gone, my laptop, my stereo, even two of my rifles … However, I had the feeling that there was someone in the staircase when I came up, so I went out immediately to check it. I couldn't see the bloke properly, as he had two flights of stairs as a head start and started running as soon as he realised that I was after him. He got out of the house and ran across the street. I followed him and was about to catch up to him, when I overlooked a car. Next thing I know I woke up in this shit-hole here."

"Damn, that it is stroke of bad luck. Did they get the guy?"

"Not that I know of. I never saw his face. A big fellow, somewhat brutish looking, you know, neck like a rugby player. Couldn't see much more of him, so if none of his booty turns up somehow and can be linked to him, I don't see how he is going to be caught. He was a pro, no doubt about that, he didn't leave any fingerprints whatsoever."