Stockholm

Intro note: this story contains gratuitous content meant to satisfy adult fantasy, and not intended to be practiced, depicted or duplicated by actual persons. The author assumes no liability or responsibility for any harm, injury, irritation, angst, nightmares, or general perturbation which may result from this story (though masturbation is quite truly another story). So there. Enjoy.

*****

Observance

It was late. A dark, wet night. The temperature was chilly, and the ground lay slick with the residue of a semi-fresh rain. The prevalence of showers was echoed by the wet vroom of one car and another. Trees were bare. Crickets were hard at work rubbing their knees together. The hands of time were lost somewhere in the twilight zone.

A young blonde made her way down the street. Her destinations were none, but her motivations manifold. Behind the façade of a beautiful countenance waited a dark, ominous presence. She operated on psychopathic tendencies. As was her icy, calculating, sinister nature, she thrived on the agony and suffering of others. She longed to inflict atrocity upon an innocent party. It simply felt so good to be bad. She got off—most figuratively and literally—on delicious cries begging for mercy. It was what she lived for. Evil had much to offer, and she drank it in like a thirsty kitten.

It had been a bit since her last session of Mistress and victim, and quite frankly, she was growing restless. Her cravings needed once more be satisfied. She hungered for someone new. Fresh. Pure. Somebody she could strip of wholesomeness and terrorize to her heart's content. She was blessed with the sort of porcelain face and delicate features for which no one would suspect her. She looked far too sweet; how could anyone with a face so lovely be guilty of such cruelty?

She smiled, scanning the rows of houses down each suburban street. Ahhhh... she thought. Each a potential juicy goosey ripe for the plucking. Now...which of these domiciles housed the beauty whose life she was to make a living hell?

It bore noting that she intended not outright harm or kill anyone. Such lack of imagination bored her. What really alit and delighted her was finding playful, innovative ways to torture someone: psychological games, confidence usurpation, gentle but deadly ordeals. She enjoyed toying with a victim's mind, keeping one on one's proverbial toes as well as making one miserable.

Now all she needed was said victim. She turned onto Williams Lane, keeping her senses alert. Midway down this street, she detected activity. She latched on to a nearby bush, crouched and retrieved her binoculars.

She gasped as the figure emerged. The first she beheld through the lenses was a head of shimmering golden hair, not unlike her own. It was indeed a fellow young woman. A gorgeous young woman. She determined after another moment that this precious fox had on a long-sleeved black top and matching leggings. In these dark garments, her movement was almost an illusion. Further examination revealed she was taking her garbage out to the can. A good sign, indicating she probably lived alone. An even finer detail presented itself one moment later. The young woman delicately stepped out to the pavement. Mistress' eyebrows jumped.

She was barefoot. Under the streetlight above, the dark ankle-hugging leggings perfectly showed off her sublimely naked feet. This proved significant to her elusive visitor for two reasons.

Gasp—how beautiful! Barefoot outside's often a sign of sensualism. She's probably a sensualist, like me, and she's vulnerable. Mmm, how I love vulnerable. Oh, a bit of fun I could have with her.

The occupant deposited her trash. But to Mistress' intrigue, she wasn't done. She produced a set of keys and pushed a remote button.

Chirp-chirp said her car. She opened the door, retrieved something from the back seat, and then popped the trunk.

Ha! My goodness, if I didn't know better, I'd think she knew I was here and was teasing me. ...Now she's on her tippy-toes reaching into the trunk. Showing me one nice round ass, and the cute little bottoms of those vulnerable feet. Goddammit, she's taunting me and doesn't even know it. Not a smart move, love. Even if you do have no idea I'm here, not a smart move.

She waited for the young blonde woman to return inside her house.

The lights went out. The visitor snuck forth for a quick peek at the mailbox.

1142.

1142 Williams Lane.

Wonderful.

Soon enough then, my dear.

*****

Reconnaissance

The following sixteen waking hours were spent in pursuit of quite personal intel. The enchantress worked alone, and back at leisure in her lair, logged on to conduct her searches. Now that she had her target, she started as logical with the address. Recon could rival the act itself in terms of excitement, depending on the details she found.

A bit of preliminary digging revealed that the golden-tressed vixen was named Linny. Linny Ann Cardell. Pretty name. She toiled her way through one of Linny's social media to the other to the next. Speaking of pretty, the young woman herself was remarkably striking. She worked as maid to a wealthy socialite and played semi-pro softball. Also good signs: she was subservient, and—not to stereotype, but—very possibly gay. Otherwise, she was more or less the girl-next-door type: young, cute, friendly, optimistic, with a nice sense of humor and no significant other or children.

My god, she really is perfect.

Yet, she could not simply go and terrorize Miss Linny Cardell right this moment. The time was simply wrong, and aside from that, this naughty research had her libido humming. Something else needed be taken care of first. She couldn't be going off to have her fun with Linny and have then to stop and slake her own thirst; that wouldn't do at all.

She reclined in her making-love seat, a foxy image of Linny on her screen. She imagined that sweet, benevolent face coerced into crying anguish from her actions. Her own curled into a Grinchish evil smile.

She worked herself through ascending plateaus of pleasure, one by one. A warm blend of comfort and lust suffused her. Her cherry red nipples twitched forth from her heaving tits. Her cunt swelled with hot blood. Her paws slithered under her clothes to grope like mad. An invisible cauldron of passion bubbled around her.

"Suffer, Linny, my little angel," she mouthed to her soon-to-be friend. "Suffer for me. Turn me on."

She burrowed two fingers into her pussy and pinched her tits harder. Pleasure built. She threw her head back, switching roles in her fantasy, now pretending she was Linny.

"Nooo-o-o-o-o!" she theatrically whisper-whined. "Pleeeease!"

Oh, it felt wonderful. Engaging in both roles made the experience just so real and sumptuous. This was going to be sweet.

"You're mine, darling."

"Oh no, please! Please let me go!"

She grinned wickedly and chuckled. Her body brimmed and teemed with sizzle. She clawed furiously at herself, needing and really desiring no foreplay. She flung her head to the love seat. Her legs spastically kicked and jerked as she frigged, pinching her nips.

The first orgasm hit.

"YEEEEEESSS!" she cried. Her body flailed as she fought to maintain rhythm. Lightning struck her, one bolt after another. Her soul blew through the stratosphere at light speed as star after star of passion blasted her. Willing it never to end, she forced her mind to focus, and envisioned the tableau once more.

"Please, please, NO!" Linny'd beg.

"Ohhh, yes," she'd nod. After digging up all the dirt on her, she was beginning to devise a method of putting Linny Cardell through absolute hell. And it excited her. It was fun, flirty and playful—not unlike little Miss Linny herself—while still evil enough to plague her soul. And it turned the enchantress on as well.

She hit her g-spot. Orgasm two nailed her.

"OHHHHHHHGOD!! YEEEEEEEEESSSS!!"

The sinister grin was pasted across her face and would not be diminished. She was lost in oblivion. The circumstance was unusual in that climax two was even more explosive than one. It was an insane mind-scrambler that only came along once in a while. She saw stars as if someone had landed her to the mat with a one-two punch. Her cunt drenched her forearm in musty, frothy cum. Her white panties turned a lovely transparent shade of gray. She felt her heart pound beneath her breast-clutching hand. It was incredible.

By the time the second orgasm ran course, she could tell she had just enough juice for a third. She also had enough presence of mind to realize that it was a good idea to get it all out now, before the eventful visit.

Very well then, libido, girls, Little Me... we're going all out. Hold on tight.

"...YYYEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSS!!"

*****

Encounter

As her intel revealed that Linny lived alone at 1142 Williams Lane, the enchantress merely needed to wait till late. She packed her aids in a tote bag, emerging just after midnight to retrace her steps. A rough half hour later...

...She'd arrived.

Oooh... how the sweet memory of the previous night made her tingle. And should all go to plan, they'd meet for real in a matter of minutes. She shivered with anticipation, though the evening was warmer. The first she needed was her switchknife.

Emulating Linny's style of outfit from last night, she crept forth in a black jumpsuit, cap and mask, switchblade at the ready. Sixty lock-picking seconds later, she'd forced access. She entered.

The house was a comfy one-story, only stairs leading to the cellar. The visitor quietly shut the door and retrieved her flashlight. From one dark room to another she shuffled, passing through doorways like a menacing ghost. The flashlight illuminated this and that, feeding her inklings of Linny's lifestyle. Of course, she already knew a great deal about her through her research. All that remained now was to unearth the unfortunate victim herself.

Uninterested in burglary, the visitor only removed another object from her tote, but placed nothing of Linny's in it. She circled from the front door through the living room, kitchen, laundry and office, before finding the hallway.

Here we are, she smiled. She'd already checked the living room sofa to find zero Linnys. This hall would doubtless lead to the bathroom, a closet or two...and the bedrooms. She'd find and close in on the girl now.

She leaned against the wall to let silence settle, to listen for her breathing.

Click. A light spilled down from above.

She gasped. She'd accidentally activated the hall light. She rapidly spun around and turned it off.

She had to hope Linny was asleep. This was otherwise a fatal mistake. Were the girl awake, she could immediately have gone for her phone, and the visitor's proverbial goose was cooked. She held her breath and made no sound for several moments.

When ready, she snuck further down the hall. A floorboard creaked. She froze once more, hiding the flashlight. She blinked about a dozen times, listening intently.

The hum of ever so slight snoring beckoned her...but from which room? She shuffled to the end, between two bedrooms, and faced outwards. She shut her eyes, letting her ears take over.

Which one... where is she... which room...

Her eyes snapped ajar. Her brows curled down as the malicious grin returned.

...To my left.

The door was cracked. The visitor turned 90° left, and softly pushed it open.

The room was rinsed in light from the streetlight outside. The visitor could barely perceive the placement of items and furniture. She concealed her shadow in blackness, waiting to strike. Her flashlight searched, almost of its own accord, for a light switch or lamp. The darkness seemed to hang still in the silent room until she made her move. She scanned the walls with steely, piercing eyes...

A nightstand lamp...

Alongside a bed...

...Occupied by the most peacefully sleeping of bodies.

There she was.

The visitor fetched the arm, laid the tote over her shoulder and stalked upon her. Once close enough to the bedside lamp—

...Click.

Losing no time, the evil Mistress grabbed the end of Linny's comforter, and whipped it off of her. To her delight, she saw that Linny was sleeping in the same black outfit in which she'd wandered outside the previous night.

The enchantress placed a hand on Linny's shoulder and gave her a jarring shake.

"Wake up!" she commanded.

Linny obeyed with a start. "Wha—...??" she whimpered.

Her eyes focused to a petrifying sight.

"Hel-lo," sang a voice.

Linny's eyes and mouth widened in horror. Neither said anything for several moments. At last, Linny's mouth formed a word.

"No...

"...No! This... this is a nightmare! ...This has to be a nightmare! I—...

"...Isn't it??"

Feigning sympathy, Mistress shook her head.

"Mm-mmmm... 'fraid not. Pinch yourself if you like, but I'll still be here."

Linny trembled and began weeping as she realized she was indeed awake.

"Oh my god!..." she squealed.

Her unwelcome guest nodded. Linny's crying escalated.

"Wh—...who are you?" she sobbed.

The visitor cocked her gun. Linny screamed. She curled into a ball, hiding her face in her arms.

"DON'T KILL ME!! Please, don't kill me!"

The captress smiled, with more mock-sympathy.

"Awwww... poor thing. Don't worry about who I am. And don't worry about me killing you, either; I don't plan to."

Still shaking like a leaf, Linny made herself take a deep breath.

"Then... then why're you pointing a g—..."

Gulp.

"...A g-gun at me? How did you get in my house?? What are you gonna do to me??"

A chuckle.

"For someone literally under the gun, you have a lot of questions, don't you. I'll entertain but one of them for now. I'm gonna have a bit of... sport with you, shall we say. Just some good, not so clean, fun."

The visitor mischievously flipped her eyebrows at her. She spoke with an exotic thick accent that Linny couldn't place, but was the least of her concerns. The grin that spread over her face chilled Linny to the core. Her next inquiry came out in a squeaky whisper.

"Are you gonna rape me??"

The captress caressed her face with the back of her hand. Linny recoiled with fear.

"I wouldn't exactly use the word 'rape,' my dear. Then again, let's see what happens."

Linny shut her eyes and cried. Mistress leaned down, and licked the tears from her face.

"Mmmm..." she savored. "I love your tears. I absolutely love that I've made you cry and we haven't even gotten started yet."

The look Linny proceeded to give her had yet to be defined.

"Now speaking of getting started... let's, what say.

"Sit up."

Linny gazed at her.

"But... but..."

The visitor's smile evaporated.

"Do not make me pull this trigger, young lady. Do sit up."

Weeping still, Linny did as told. Her captress reached into her tote bag for the next aid: a pair of velvet handcuffs. She took Linny's wrists one by one, and began shackling her.

"Oh god," Linny blubbered. "I don't like this."

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about that," cooed the enchantress. "You're gonna like it... like it or not."

Another set was fetched. The next step was to cuff her feet, so she did just so...pausing subsequently to reach under and tickle them.

The whole of Linny's reaction was like nothing she'd seen before. Linny exploded at the tickling sensation, almost kicking Mistress right in the face. She laughed hysterically, and flew up the few allowed inches, flopping back in bed.

"WOOOO-hoo-hoo!" the captress marveled, clapping her hands. "Enjoy that, did we??"

"Oh, please please PLEASE don't tickle my feet!" Linny roared, catching her breath. "That is the worst thing ever! I mean it, I have the most ticklish feet in the world! Seriously, they can't take it!"

Her visitor gave a benevolent chuckle.

"Very well, we'll play nice... relatively. Get up."

Once having coaxed Linny back to her sitting position, Mistress swooped in, and forced a kiss to her lips.

"Mmm!" she squeaked like a mouse. "Please stop it! You're scaring me!"

The captress' sinister grin returned. She clutched Linny's cuffs with one hand, pinned the girl's feet to the floor with her own...

"Wonderful."

...And rubbed her pussy over the leggings with the other hand. Linny jumped.

"NOOO!" she cried out loud. "DON'T!"

The visitor merely laughed at her.

"Yessssss... keep begging. You're turning me on."

Gasp. "Why, you bad girl! You're already wet!"

"You... y-you're making me pee myself!" Linny desperately whined.

A chuckle. "Oh, no no no... you can't lie to me. I know girl-moisture when I feel it...and smell it."

A new wave of dread invaded Linny as she realized the visitor was right. She was aroused. She couldn't believe it. How could she be turned on by this person, a marauder, of all individuals? Did she possess a sorceress-like power to make her libido override her brain? Were her hands magical sex weapons? Was Linny simply weak from being awoken out of a deep sleep? Who could say? All she knew was, she was being aroused against her will, and she didn't like it.

At least, she...thought she didn't.

The captress stood, tugging Linny by the cuffs. She wordlessly tugged till Linny meekly stood with her.

"Want me to kiss you again?" came the sinister whisper.

No! Yes! No!... Y— "N-no!"

The Mistress tightened her grip on the cuffs, pulling her closer. Linny gasped. The damp spot in her crotch grew. Her captress sank her teeth into Linny's cheek, tonguing her. Linny hopped in place, crying out once more.

"Yes you do. Try and lie to me, you'll regret it."

Linny dropped her guilty moist eyes.

"Now then," she heard. She looked back up.

"Won't you be so kind as to take me on a tour of your lovely home?"

A tour? She...she couldn't have been serious, thought Linny. She had to be kidding.

"You... you can't be serious. ...You've gotta be kidding."

The captress' face morphed from smiling to pensively nonplussed.

"Not at all. If I'm to find the ideal spot in your home to have my fun with you, who better to show me than yourself?"

Linny trembled. A tear slipped from her right eye.

"Please, you... you can have anything you want. Please just take it and leave me alone."

The terrifying smile darkened her guest's face once again. She fondled Linny.

"But you see, my cupcake, all I want is you."

Linny did not mind admitting that she hated hearing this. The visitor took hold of the collar of her top and drew her close, until their faces were an inch apart. She nuzzled her nose and pecked her lips.

"You're beautiful."

Poor Linny didn't know what to do or say. Situation aside, she actually found the intruder extraordinarily beautiful as well. Surreally beautiful. A narrow strip of sweat joined the tears on her face as the visitor's warm breath caressed it. Her nipples poked through her top, as hard as pebbles. Her cunt soaked itself over and again. She couldn't help wondering if her enchantress was as aroused. Mistress maintained greater composure for obvious reasons, but this didn't discount the potential of being as randy as a stoat.