Unwanted Obsession Ch. 05

Work was nerve-wrecking and the commute was a killer.

Even while moving to her bedroom, Louise kicked her shoes off. Her feet needed soft, airy, slippers. She still hoped that her first impression of her boss would eventually prove wrong. The hope was diminishing every single day, though.

One of Louise's first thoughts, after meeting her boss had been.Surely he knows more about his area of expertise than this. Since then, every time her boss had said something really stupid, Louise had merely blinked and smiled insecurely. She couldn't figure out whether to take him seriously or laugh at what she hoped was a bad joke and dared not chose the wrong of those two.

Stepping into her bedroom, Louise instantly sought out her slippers with her eyes. Her feet really hurt. She even took two steps toward the fluffy foot relief before noticing something was amiss.

My bed! Louise forgot everything about footwear, work, and idiots who thought they were experts. Someone had been in her bedroom. Someone had prepared her bed for 'playtime'.

Louise spun to run out her apartment only to find her route blocked. A man stood in the doorway to her bedroom. Louise backed away from him, backed toward her slippers' corner. The man stood still. Tall, threatening, and masked. On top of his mask, he wore sun-glasses.

Louise didn't make a sound. She didn't need to see his face nor his eyes to know who he was.

He has come back for me.

Louise's back bumped into the wall. Into two walls. She was in the corner. Cornered.

He's back.

Panting with fear, Louise stared at him.How did he get in here? That didn't matter, though. All that mattered was that he was there.What is he planning to do to me? That didn't really matter either. He was dangerous, that was what mattered.

Don't let him chain you up! Louise's eyes darted from the man to her bed, to each corner of which leather shackles were already firmly attached. She was already dizzy from breathing too fast. Her eyes moved back to the man.Do something, Louise. Don't just stand there.

The man took one step forward and again stood still.

Do something! Louise yelled at herself inside her mind. Yet she just stood still.If I try anything he will get angry. Really angry. It's safer to just...

The man took another step. Louise screamed and reached behind herself. Slippers weren't all she kept in that corner. One of the three baseball bats she kept in her bedroom was there too.

She grabbed it.Only one chance.

Still screaming she jumped forward.Only one chance.

Clumsily, she swung the heavy wood with all her might. She hit his arm, the arm he had reached forward.

Now they were both screaming.

Only one chance, thought Louise and swung again. The man staggered backward away from her and fell over his own feet.

"Nej," the man screamed. "Louise, Nej. Det mig. Det..." Another swing cut him off mid-sentence.

"Die!" screamed Louise, standing above him, she swung again. "Die, Joe."

"Det mig. Av. Nej, Louise. AV." The man's sentence was cut off by a piercing scream as she got a good hit on his other arm, which he had held up above his body.

"Hjælp," screamed the man and pushed with his feet to get under her bed. "Hjælp."

It wasn't until then that Louise noticed the man was speaking Danish. She shook her head, holding back her next swing while trying to think straight.

"Louise stop. It's me, Søren. It's just me," screamed the man in Danish, pushing himself further under her bed.

"What the hell are you up to?" panted Louise, having trouble adjusting to this new information.

"Don't you remember?" cried Søren, from under her bed.

"Remember what?" asked Louise, her eyes again darted to the leather shackles on her bed. Suddenly, she did remember.

Louise dropped her baseball bat.

"I forgot, Søren. I forgot."

"I think you've broken both my arms," wept Søren from under the bed. "What the hell is wrong with you, Louise?"

"I'm sorry," said Louise and started weeping too. "I swear I didn't realise it was you."

"Get out of my car," said Ronald.

That was all the prompting his latest victim needed. The second the door closed behind her, Ronald drove off. He didn't even bother looking at her in the rear-view mirror.

Two hunts in two months, both of them cut off early. The last one he had let go early because he had accidentally broken her nose. This one... Ronald shook his head. This hunt he had found a girl who had resembled Lowish. Judging by looks alone, the two could have been sisters.

Ronald had been so horny, just looking at her, that he had had trouble seducing her. In the end he had succeeded, though. The trip to the rented vacation farmhouse had been filled with nearly unbearable anticipation.

Playing with the Lowish-look-alike had been marvellous. At first. It had been his biggest thrill since the Lowish hunt. At first. The look-alike had even sounded a bit like Lowish when he gave her a good round with the belt.

Life had been good.

At first.

Sometime during the first night, he had woken up. For a second he had thought the woman next to him was Lowish. In the dim light the look-alike had looked exactly like her. But then he had remembered she wasn't Lowish and had been filled with an urge to strangle her.

Surprised at himself, Ronald had taken a cold shower to wake fully. The prey was for fucking, not for killing. He wasn't a murderer. After the shower, he had tried to resume the weekend, had toyed with the look-alike, had scared her, had mindfucked her.

It was no use. The more he had looked at her, the less she had turned him on. Sometime around dawn, Ronald had realised he hadn't been hard for hours and had simply given up.

The look-alike simply didn't do it for him.

I'm just having an unlucky streak, thought Ronald, keeping his eyes on the road.Nothing more, nothing less. Five months had passed since the Lowish hunt.Just an unlucky streak. He remembered driving away from that hunt. He had had her old student ID in his pocket then.

Her name had been on it. Her full name. First and Last. Her address had been on it too.

Ronald's hands grasped the wheel tighter.I should have kept it. It hadn't even occurred to him to keep it. He had only hung on to it to convince Lowish that he would be able to track her down. He had burned it and buried it, along with the bondage he had used on the Lowish hunt.

Months had passed before Ronald had realised he didn't remember her last name. He didn't remember any of the information that card had held. Even if he wanted to, he would never be able to track her down.

Box of chocolate under her arm, Louise knocked on the door.

"Come in," someone yelled from inside, in Danish.

Louise opened the door and stepped inside.

"It's me," she shouted. Not quite sure if she would be welcome or not.

"Did you bring a bat?"

"No," shouted Louise.

"Then come on in."

Louise walked to the living-room.

"Hi, Søren," she said, holding the chocolate forward.

"Hi," said Søren.

"The police decided not to press any charges against me," said Louise.

"I know."

"Thanks for telling them not to charge me with violent assault."

"Thanks for telling them not to charge me with attempted rape," said Søren, and carefully waved one of his bandaged arms towards the couch.

Louise seated.

"I was just about to tell you that it was me, when you charged me with that bat," said Søren.

Louise winced at the memory. "I'm sorry."

"It was my own fault," said Søren. "I should have said it the moment I realised you were afraid. I pushed the game too far. It was just, seeing you there, in that corner. You looked so..."

Louise swallowed, for the first time ever nauseated by her good friend Søren.

"Are you ok, Louise?" asked Søren.

"I'm fine."

"What I meant to say was, it's my own fault that I've got two broken arms," said Søren. "And I've learned my lesson. I'll never scare you again."

"I should have remembered to turn off the horny-lamp," said Louise. Referring to the lamp-code system which she and Søren had agreed on before Louise had gone to America and Søren to Italy. That was how old their plans had been.

"May I have a piece of that chocolate?" asked Søren, changing the topic.

Some hours later the two were watching one of Søren's dvds --one of the Die Hard movies.

"Give me another chocolate, would you?" said Søren, keeping his eyes on the screen. Due to the casts on his broken arms, he only had limited use of his fingers. Picking chocolate up from chocolate boxes had proven beyond his current abilities.

Louise picked up a piece and fed it to him.

"Thank you," said Søren, around the chocolate. "Now give me a blowjob, would you?"

Louise laughed and leant back, returning her eyes to the screen. A moment later, her eyes returned to Søren. Her gaze trailed down his arms, along his casts, to his fingertips poking out of the casts.

"Have you figured out how to jerk off with both arms in cast?" asked Louise.

"I can't," said Søren. "No fast arm movements. Doctor's orders."

"You poor thing."

"My mouth isn't in cast, though," said Søren. "I was thinking that maybe if I went down on you, then you would..."

"Don't worry about it," said Louise and gently pushed at Søren's chest with one hand, prompting him to lean back.

"Louise, you are an angel," said Søren, leaning back. "A saint."

"Saint of blow jobs," commented Louise, and pulled the elastic of Søren's sweatpants down to his hips.

Søren raised his rear from the couch, letting her pull his pants past his bum. He wasn't wearing underwear, those were too hard for him to get on and off unaided.

"I'll make this up to you as soon as my arms are ok," promised Søren. "Anything you like. You name it, I'll do it."

"Relax," said Louise.

"Seriously," said Søren, carefully caressing her back with his fingertips. "Yours are the best blowjobs in the world."

"Mmm," commented Louise, slowly lowering her head, her lips already engulfing the sensitive bulb.

"As soon as I get these casts off, I'll tie you up and chase your g-spot till you beg for mercy," promised Søren.

Louise froze.

"What's wrong?" asked Søren.

Louise took his cock out of her mouth.

"Would you mind shutting up, while I suck your cock?" she said, nothing friendly in her voice.

Søren went quiet and Louise resumed.

'Joe' hadn't made her suck his cock, remembered Louise. He hadn't taken that from her.Why do I let what Joe did or didn't do ruin anything? Søren had never taken her anywhere but where she had wanted to go. Even that encounter in her bedroom had been at her request.

During the abuse, Joe had told her that her fantasies were sick. That she was sick. Anger boiled in Louise's stomach while she worked her way up and down the backside of Søren's cock, massaging with her tongue.

I'm not sick, thought Louise, with the tip of her tongue teasing Søren's most sensitive spot, the soft small patch on the underside of his cock-head.My fantasies never hurt anyone.

Søren moaned.

Louise and Søren had had many good times together. He was, if not the best then, one of the best lovers she had ever had.I won't let Joe ruin that, decided Louise.I won't let Joe ruin anything.

She switched from tonguetip-tickling to tight-lipped headbobbing, Søren always responded strongly to tight-lipped headbobbing.

"Please don't stop," whispered Søren, his hips making small involuntary movements.

On the inside, Louise smiled a little. The only time she ever played dominant was when sucking Søren. He had told her long ago that he never could decide if that game was heavenly or hellish.

"Be nice to me," whispered Søren hoarsely.

He is almost there, thought Louise.Almost.

In her pants, her clitoris throbbed at the memory of how it felt when Søren teased her. He was very good at bringing her to the brink and then stopping just before she came. He was almost as good at doing that to her as she was good at doing it to him.

"Keep going," whispered Søren again. "Keep going. Keep going..."

Louise stopped.

"For helvede," swore Søren, squeezing his legs together in frustration. "Don't do this to me while my arms are broken."

Louise smiled, looking at his saliva-coated cock. It was still jumping sporadically after having been so cruelly deprived of stimulation.

"Lie still and take it like a man," said Louise, stuck out her tongue and gave him a slow lick from base till tip.

A memory from the weekend with 'Joe' pushed itself onto Louise and her smile disappeared. But her determination to learn to work past those memories didn't disappear with it.

I'm not the sick one. Joe was the sick one, Louise reminded herself, and again engulfed Søren's cock. Then she pushed the memories away by focusing intently on again bringing Søren to the brink.

The second time she stopped, Søren almost sounded like he was about to cry.

"Take it like a man," Louise again chided.

"I am taking it like a man," whined Søren. "You have no idea how this feels."

"Begging won't help you," stated Louise. "You'll just have to wait till I decide it's time."

(Six months after)

"There is some substance to the company, Mr. Jackson," said the company's owner, who was also its CEO, intently keeping his eyes locked on Ronald's. "The daughter companies are real."

"As real as the debt you built to buy those companies. A debt which you move every three months to not appear insolvent," said Ronald. "Your company is 95% air."

"Not 95% insisted the owner. It's true that my books aren't..."

"Do you think I came here to argue?" asked Ronald.

"I don't know why you came," admitted the owner.

"The hounds are breathing down your neck," said Ronald.

"Why did you come?" asked the owner.

"Your falsifications of your books are perfect," said Ronald. "You really did a good job on them. The hounds won't have evidence that your company is made of air until they find the empty accounts. The accounts that according to your books hold a total of..." Ronald checked his notes. "65 million dollars."

"You have to be in business to get in business," claimed the owner of the air-company. "The company is growing, one day it will be real."

"The hounds," reminded Ronald.

"Why did you come here?" asked the owner.

"Imagine you gave your company to me," said Ronald. "Imagine we made it look like someone paid 70 million dollars for your company."

"Made it look like?" asked the owner. "What do you mean, Mr. Jackson."

"Imagine you gave me your company for free, but everyone thought you got 70 million dollars for it," said Ronald.

The owner went quiet, he could see how that could get the hounds off his back. After a few seconds, he could even guess why someone would want to pretend to buy his company.

"You want to use my fake books to laundry 65 million dollars?" asked the owner.

"What I want to do with your fake books, is none of your concern," said Ronald.

"I'll sell you my company for 10 million dollars," said the owner, "while we make it look like 70."

"I've got a better idea," said Ronald. "You drop on your knees and suck my cock. When you are done, you beg me to take your company for free, while making it look like 70 mill."

"The company isn't all air," said the owner. "The daughter companies..."

"I don't need you," said Ronald. "And I'm getting bored."

"The daughter companies..."

"You blew it," said Ronald and rose. "Good luck with the hounds." He turned and started for the door.

"Wait!" screeched the owner.

Ronald turned back and walked to the owner's desk, while opening his belt.

"Get up," ordered Ronald, while unbuttoning his pants.

The company owner did as told.

"Over here and on your knees," ordered Ronald.

"If I suck your cock. How will I know you will take the company off my hands afterwards?" asked the owner, remaining on his own side of the desk.

"If you don't want to blow me then stop bitching," said Ronald.

The company owner blinked.

"I get your company for free, we pretend it cost 70 mill," said Ronald. "Deal, or not?"

"Deal," said the company owner.

Ronald rebuttoned his pants and closed his belt, before shaking hands on the deal.

"Now, was there something you wanted to say about my daughter companies?" asked Ronald, after letting go of the owner's hand.

"It's not important," said the owner.

"Allright," said Ronald, nodding agreement. "Let's get cracking on that paperwork."

Two hours later, Ronald left the company owner's office.

And so another 65 mill passes back into legitimacy, he thought. Ronald had always had a nose for air companies. When he had been legit, the advantage of that had been to avoid them.

This particular air company had been a better deal than most, however. Instead of losing a few dirty mill in the laundry process, he had earned his new associates a couple of legitimate millions. As the owner had been begging to say several times, the value of the daughter companies outweighed the constantly moving debt by several millions.

Ronald wasn't in a good mood, though. He was too frustrated to enjoy even successful business. Every woman he saw, he wanted to bend her over a table and fuck, he was constantly horny. But, as of late, he couldn't get off while fucking.

It must be because my last two hunts failed. I'll have to go on a new hunt soon. In the past many months, I've spent too much time thinking about what I'd like to do and too little time actually doing it.

Somebody bumped into Ronald, or maybe it was the other way round, either way Ronald had to concentrate to keep himself from beating up that insignificant somebody.

I need to get laid, thought Ronald, plastering a fake friendly smile on his face, and kneeling to help the anonymous stranger with her papers which had flown all over at the impact.

"Why did this have to happen?" whispered the stranger, as if her papers becoming disorganised was a genuine disaster. Her accent sounded strangely familiar.

"I'm sure we can get your papers back in order," said Ronald, comfortingly. For some reason, the sound of the woman's voice had moved her from insignificant to bedmate prospect.

"I have an appointment with the CEO in less than five minutes," said the woman. Ronald's cock made a tiny jump at every word she spoke.

"The CEO is a good friend of mine," lied Ronald. "If you need a bit more time to organise your papers, I can delay him for you."

"You would?" asked the woman. "I really couldn't ask you to do that for me."

"Of course, I would. I feel guilty about..." Ronald's voice trailed off mid-sentence, his eye had caught something amongst the papers. He reached out and picked it up.

"That's our brochure," said the woman.

Her voice came from very far away. Ronald's breathing had stopped. His pupils had widened to better let in the light, to better let him see. The brochure he was holding had opened to page 7 upon landing on the floor. On page 7 was a picture of a laboratory, on the picture Ronald could see five smiling people.

One of those five smiling people... Ronald started breathing again. One of those five...

Her.

Ronald's eyes went to the text below the picture.

Our skilled biochemists are constantly...

His eyes went back to the picture. To her. Her and her eyes.Emeralds. He couldn't remember her last name.Lowish. He couldn't remember where she lived.Mine. But, now he knew where she worked.

(Seven months after.)

"No," said Louise in Danish, stretching out an arm. "Don't vortex that."

"I've just diluted," said the laboratory technician, holding the sample glass too close to the vortex for Louise's liking. "The contents needs to be mixed properly before next step, doesn't it?"