Moonlight Predator

[Author's note: This is my first submission of anything written, and is a fairly simple affair. Please enjoy for the simple submissive fantasy it is!]

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You walk down a quiet street at night, your steps only guided by the dim streetlights and the beaming of a full moon. Everything is still, and silence reigns supreme save for a gentle midnight breeze.

The music in your ears is the same as ever, turned low in the stillness of the evening. Still, there's nothing to hear. All is quiet. Empty alleyways flank you, untraveled streets run beside you. A strange peace fills the air, but it's one that you find yourself lulled into without a care. This sleepy town is at its most peaceful.

Passing by an unlit alley, you think nothing of it, as you did of the dozen before. A cursory glance that direction out of habit reveals nothing, just a passageway shaded from the moonlight by the buildings around.

But as you leave the alleyway behind, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It's often said that we can sense danger before we can locate it, and something has you on edge. You're unsure what, but something tells you that you're not alone.

Uncertain of the cause, you put a little extra intent behind your steps. You glance around, but nothing stands out amidst the shadows and shine of the moon. Your conscious mind feels somewhat ridiculous for the sudden paranoia, but the feeling of unease remains. As though you know that... something is watching. Somewhere.

...what was that? Out of the corner of your eye, you swear you saw something in an alley across the street, but by the time you look it's nothing but a ghost in the fog, long since vanished. Filled with worry, you turn down the next alleyway. You know these streets, and you know all the shortcuts. You'll just lose whatever this is and be home soon.

You cut through the side passage and out onto an adjacent street. Relief fills your being as you see nothing behind you. As you turn around to keep walking, however, another movement in the black graces the corner of your eye. Is there more than one? Are you imagining things? Are they just that quick?

You can't even catch a glimpse to begin answering questions. Hurrying down the next street in a brisk walk, you cut through another alleyway, onto the next street. There, another flicker in an alleyway. As quickly as you can move while still walking, you scurry down the sidewalk. Streets and alleys pass you by, and every once in a while something flickers in the corner of your vision.

It's closer now. It's getting closer each time. Somehow, no matter how fast you move, it always seems to draw nearer. You accelerate to a jog. Safety isn't that far away, but you have to hurry. Your heart begins to beat faster and faster, as your concern turns to a minor dose of fear.

Something flickers before you up the street, and you dart into an alleyway, breaking into a run. Cutting through, the shadow flickers again upon the next street. Your heart pounds with primal adrenaline in your chest as you realise that you've become the prey. The hunt is on, and an unknown predator hungers.

Cutting through alleyways, hopping over fences, searching for a place to hide, and yet the shadowed figure continues to find you. No matter what, you can't seem to increase the distance. It only draws nearer, and the faster you run... the quicker it seems to close in.

Panic strikes you, as the inevitability of a predator's victory begins to feel more real by the moment. You don't know who lurks in the shadows. You haven't the slightest idea why it's you they're after. You don't know, Your conscious mind is useless in this moment, as the instinctual fear of being made prey fills your being.

By now, you're unfamiliar with the surroundings. You've run so far that this part of town seems unfamiliar. Creak..., you hear a door open in a nearby alleyway, as you catch a flicker of a shadow out of the other corner of your vision. Safety, another person, a place to hide perhaps. With a sharp change in direction, you tear down the side street, rounding a corner beyond which you heard activity.

Nothing. Featureless walls on three sides of this little alcove, leaving only the way you came. You know that you heard something this direction, so where is it? You... didn't imagine it, did you? There's no way. You know what you heard. Your eyes scramble for any sign of the escape you were so cruelly promised, only to find nothing. Panicking, you whip around to flee before anything finds you.

As you complete your turn, you freeze in terror.

Standing tall, a figure in stygian black calmly walks down the alleyway towards you, blocking your only escape route. A single moonbeam breaks through the heights of the buildings, and as the figure steps through, you have but a moment to make out any details.

An imposing female figure, veiled in apparel as black as the detached determination in her steps. Soundlessly, her boots practically glide over the concrete, betraying the skill with which you've been hunted. The cold midnight breeze causing ripples in the apex predator's cloak, a cloth mask veils everything from the nose down, while the raised hood keeps any features secreted away from your fearful gaze, as the fabric keeps them shrouded in shadow.

Try as you might to discern what lies beneath, your panicked eyes find nothing to gaze upon. Within seconds, this tenebrous figure will be upon you, and time is running out. Only now do you realise the truth of the chase.

You noticed nothing. You escaped from nothing. A hunter this skilled makes no mistakes. You were being herded, backed into this corner.

The helplessness of your position threatens to overwhelm you, as the realisation dawns on you. You're no match for a predator of this calibre and grace, in flight. You only have a single option, and that is to give in to the instincts of the cornered prey you've become. Whatever her intent, you'll have to fend it off with animalistic abandon.

There's no way you could physically contest this imposing figure looming over you. She is taller. She is swifter. She is almost certainly stronger. However, it's not the intentional threat that strikes fear into you. It's the detached calmness in her movements. You discern that she's not even treating you as a remote threat. Approaching you with tensionless movements, regarding you less an animal to fight and conquer, and more a tender fruit to pluck from the tree of these streets.

By the callous disinterest in her steps, you can only assume that you are far from the first of her prey.

Feeling only a single chance presenting itself, you rush towards her, hoping to startle her and knock her aside, to force her into granting you a head start. But you stop your charge the next instant. Her chin lifts, tilting her head upwards just enough for the moonlight to fill the space beneath the hood.

It's only then that you catch the first sight of any features: Eyes. Cold, blue eyes, their neutral state a mask to the sinister intent behind them. As the moonlight reflects upon them, they shine in a manner distinct from everything you've ever known. A peculiar glint, an unfamiliar sparkle... and some unseen force taking hold of you, stopping your charge in its tracks.

Taken aback and reeling from the shock of this mysterious happening, you take several steps back. Perhaps avoiding her gaze will prevent such a thing. Steeling yourself and looking only to her lower body, you rush, and... you slip past her? So easily? You continue to flee into the open street, down another pair of alleyways, catching no sight of this sable huntress.

A touch of relief washes over you as the panic begins to wane slightly. You've wondered what runs through the mind of prey when the result becomes inevitable. But you won't be finding out today. Your plan worked, and you begin to feel some pride at your ability to escape. You check the corners of your vision as you turn down the next alleyway, working your way home. She's nowhere to be seen. No footsteps heard behind you. Nothing.

Looking to your left to finish your vision sweep, you're about to turn your sight forward again when you haplessly run into something, prompting a quiet yelp of surprise from your lips. You've been clumsy here and there for your entire life, but you're uncertain how you missed such a large object before you. It wasn't there before, was it? It's so tall. So still. So hard to see with its obsidian shade.

Trying to recover your bearings, it's only when the other half of the collision suddenly grabs your wrist, that you realise what a mistake you've made.

Turning your sight upwards, you catch the slightest glimpse of those piercing eyes glaring down at you. There's a determination that wasn't there before, but it's laced with... amusement? The corners of her eyes squint slightly, as though there's a smile beneath the ebon mask. A smile that brings you no comfort, but only doubly-renewed fear. Her amusement comes not from your ability, you realise, but from her having allowed you the illusion of escape, and the dread on your features as that hope is torn from you.

This was never a true hunt, but a game of cat-and-mouse, led by a predator merely toying with her helpless prey.

The hopelessness of your situation overtakes everything. You're aware that struggling is in vain, but it doesn't prevent you from trying. Giving it your all, you pull and thrash and tug your arm, hoping to break her iron grip, but it clings like a shackle.

With a tug far beyond any power you anticipated, you find yourself thrust up against one of the brick walls that have become your prison. You squirm and fight, but you become trapped, as this huntress presses your helpless body between her own and the masonry behind. You open your mouth to call for help, but only a muffled grunt comes out, as a leather-gloved hand clamps down over the attempt.

Making every attempt to avert your gaze, you shake your head from side to side in a vain attempt at defiance. To no avail. That hand has such strength behind it, and you find your face held perfectly still. Unable to turn away. Unable to scream. Unable to write away, with your right wrist still captured in the other hand. All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut, and hope. But deep down, you know the truth: There is no hope. You are powerless. You are defeated. You are prey.

As you continue to squeeze your eyes shut, awaiting the inevitable... nothing happens. The frantic motions are stilled for what feels like an eternity, but none of the expected horrors come to fruition. She's just standing there, holding you, pressed against you, silencing you. What is she doing, you wonder. Why won't she just get it over with? What's happening?

Still reeling with panic, but now laced with a sense of confusion, you open your eyes. Immediately, you find yourself eye-to-eye with the huntress once more. Piercing blue, shining unnaturally. Cold, sinister, an amusement in them that carries no warmth. The hand on your wrist fishes around on a belt beneath her cloak.

Wait... that hand isn't on you anymore? You're not struggling against that hand right now? Then why can't you move the wrist that was just being forced into stillness? Why did your attempted yelling cease? Why... can't you look away?

Her hand leaves your mouth as her body lifts from yours. Now! Now is your chance! Don't ask questions, just run and scream!

...but you can't move. You're just standing there, staring with wide eyes into the cruel gaze bearing down on you.

Though you cannot move, you can feel every last sensation against your body, as it stands there before the huntress - helpless, paralysed, frozen. The next thing you feel is the cold touch of steel in the night air upon your throat. You cannot see what it is. You cannot look away, despite your fully-conscious mind screaming for your body to do anything.

The predator brings her free hand to your neck, taking a hold of something. And within moments, you feel a band of steel circling your neck. It's freezing cold, but it's... warm? You stare in panic, knowing how your face would be contorted in terror were your body under any command - leaving your expression neutral and blank.

The first sound you've yet heard from the shrouded woman is the sound of the keyring she produced from a pouch. Feeling something against the metal encircling your neck being fitted, adjusted, altered, manipulated, you feel the realisation dawning on your dissociated mind. This was no hunt for blood or lust, but for a captive.

And as you hear the click of a lock snapping shut on the back on your neck, the collar grows hot. Gentle waves of tingling pleasure, bliss, and ecstasy thrum throughout your body, subtly, but ever-present. You feel a deep sense of dread continue to fill your mind. What's happening to you? What is this feeling? How can you possibly hope to escape?

Trapped hazily in your own thoughts for several moments, your attention returns to the present, just in time to feel and hear words leaving your lips: "Yes, Mistress".

Your words? No. You didn't speak them. Or did you? What constitutes 'you' now? Utter confusion and continued panic reign supreme within, despite feeling your lips turn up in a happy, obedient smile.

One leather-clad hand reaches to the cloth covering most of the huntress's face, before she tugs it downward, exposing rose-pink lips to the lingering moonlight. Their corners turn up in a light, yet domineering grin. As you smile in response without a thought - some presence forcing your body to act - an elated gasp rises from within as those lips briefly brush against your own.

"Good girl", a voice rings in your mind. You're certain your ears heard nothing, but with those lips touching you... you know you heard it within, somehow. Your thoughts are too busy frantically searching for an escape, but the words repeat, filling your mind like a strange telepathy.

"Good girl..."

Something tingles in the back of your head. Joy. Elation. The praise collides with the terror and helplessness to create an intoxicating blend of fear and bliss. After all... what do you really have to fear? You mentally squirm and flail against the unwanted happiness, but when combined with the ecstasy filling your body, as it acts without your involvement... why would you not simply embrace this happiness?

You stand from against the wall, taking up the prim and proper posture of a devout servant, moving to stand beside your new owner with hands idly clasped at the ready. As captivated as your body is, relegating your mind to the state of a simple observer unable to interact with the world, you realise that the hunt is not over - it has simply moved to within you.

You've had a life of constant troubles and worries up to this point. The memories of such things float to the surface. Before you stands an opportunity... to never worry about them again. But you resist, out of some useless sense of self-preservation. But... preserving what? Worry? Fear?

Feeling the last vestiges of your free will being systematically hunted down in swift succession, overcome by the huntress that is the temptation of lifelong bliss... you only now realise that you've been walking down the street for some time, obediently at Mistress's side. Her hood is lowered, her mask down around her neck, and in the moonbeams in the dead of night... your conscious mind is awestruck at the beauty of the one who owns you.

She is perfect.

You would give anything to gaze upon this sight forever.

"You can, if you resign yourself as my prey", a soothing voice sounds in your mind, as though your very thoughts had been read by your new owner. It's tempting. Overwhelmingly tempting. Wait, you hadn't resigned yourself to this beautiful predator yet? How could you be so silly? Of course you surrender.

"My Mistress captured her prey, therefore this prey is hers to claim", you speak aloud.

Did you intend to say that? You're not sure. Your body spoke it. The back of your mind feels it.

As you glance about the surroundings, you catch sight of yourself in a reflection, under a dim white streetlight. You were always discontented by your appearance, but... now you see what was missing. The silver collar hugging your neck. That's all you ever needed.

Something silver dangles from the collar at your throat. You take a closer look and see a number: 13. You realise what this means, and you smile brightly. Mistress has caught other prey for you to join, and you know that you'll never feel alone again. The prospect fills you with excitement, knowing that there are others just like you, blessed by this midnight predator. Perhaps you won't be the last. You hope not, as more deserve to feel so complete. Perhaps you can assist Mistress when she hunts. The prey you find would be ever so grateful in the end.

And then it all makes sense, as Mistress grants you a smile of approval. You are prey, meant to be taken by a predator. You are fulfilling your purpose. Your conscious mind finally relents and accepts this fact, and an unmitigated ecstasy fills your being. You let your willpower fade, embracing the bliss of being prey.

You keep walking alongside the predator that took you, filled in every way with sensations of bliss. Your mind floats on air. Your body ripples with waves of pleasurable tingling, ceaselessly.

You are what you were meant to be.

You are hers.