Taming of the Stalker

"I think that's enough for now," I say. "Anal play is something I've experimented with and found that, although it has its uses, it's not one of the things I enjoy particularly. However, there are some things you can do to the prostate that are quite enjoyable. And this one won't hurt you at all. It's pretty small compared to some of the ones I've seen." I smile, taking all the toys and walking back to the bedroom. You follow, and I stand with my legs apart, looking at you with a kind of speculative frown on my face.

I finally gesture you over to the bed, where you lie down on your back. I slowly unzip the jumpsuit, then unzip the tight pants I am wearing and pull them slowly down, leaving the shirt on. I lube myself up, then start to spread the fragrant oil on your cock and balls. I put the ball stretcher on you and tie your arms to the bedposts with the scarves, leaving your legs free.

I hand you the vibrator and you turn the dial to low in preparation as I climb onto you, kneeling over your chest, facing away from you.

I sigh as you slowly run the tip of the vibrator over my swollen clit, causing sensations to start building immediately within me. You withdraw it quickly and plunge it inside me, moving slowly and deeply. Meanwhile, I am running the tickler teasingly over your thighs and stomach, leaning slowly forward and sliding my fingers along your slippery cock. Without warning, I spread your cheeks and slowly slide the lubricated plug in. You stiffen slightly, but then you continue. It's not painful, I used it on myself to make sure of that. I move it slowly deeper, turning on the vibrator inside it. I know it feels strange, but not unpleasant. My mouth closes over your cock, and begins sliding slowly up and down its length. Your thrusts with the vibrator quicken inside me, and I can feel my own orgasm approaching fast. I take you in all the way to the base, deep into my throat, and as I cum, I jerk the ball stretcher away from you and drive the plug deep enough to touch your prostate just for an instant. The result is immediate. Your head jerks back and you cry out in pleasure. Your cock twitches and erupts. You shudder all over, and my mouth is immediately flooded with all the liquid it can hold. I have to swallow several times as your dick pulses again and again. You let out a long, rewarding yell of pleasure at the unexpected orgasm as I continue to swallow rhythmically, taking it all in. It feels like enough to keep me in protein for a week.

When it finally subsides, I lift my head, lick my lips and turn around slowly, grinning at you. "Your reward for being honest with me this afternoon," I say, "and for not calling out for help when my friend came over. Although I suspect you wouldn't have wanted the awkwardness of being discovered, but I say it still counts." I smile and take the vibrator from you, then gather up the lube, tickler and ball stretcher and prepare to leave the room. "I think I'll leave your arms and legs untied for the night," I say. "I think we've both had enough adventures for one day, and as for me, I'm exhausted. We continue the games tomorrow, and hopefully you'll earn even more pleasures. For now though, get some sleep." I smile, give your head a gentle stroke, then leave to put the toys away. I wash up in the bathroom, then come back into the bedroom to find you sound asleep. I climb in beside you, making sure not to wake you, and pass out with an almost audible thud.

In my dream, you manage to force open my bedroom window from the outside and crawl in. When I wake up in the dream, you're kneeling over me, a hand holding each of my wrists down and a big, eager grin on your face. My sex immediately begins dripping with need, and I moan aloud under you. When I wake up in the morning, I know I'm going to be very disappointed to discover that it was only a dream.

Night, The Stalker

I wake up suddenly in what I think is probably the middle of the night some time. Not having a clock means I'm not really sure what time it is, but I can hear you breathing softly next to me, so I know you're asleep. Quietly, so as not to wake my beautiful mistress, my devious lady, I get out from under the blankets and get off the bed, not putting down enough of my weight to cause it to creak. I really like you, I've decided, and that being the case, I'd like to play again some day. However, I know you're not going to tell me where we are, and you'll probably knock me out for the trip out again, so I need to gather my data while I have the chance. I walk slowly and silently over to the bedroom window, draw aside the curtain carefully and peer out. I see a lot of trees and what I think is the start of a road. Hmm. I replace the curtain, turn around and head out of the bedroom and down the hallway. I turn into the bathroom, close the door and sit down to pee so as not to disturb you while you're sleeping. After I'm done I turn the sink on low and wash my hands, then begin a thorough examination of the bathroom. I look in every drawer, hoping against hope to perhaps find a sticky note with the apartment's address written on it, anything that might tell me where we are for sure. I could try finding my phone and using the GPS, but you're smart. You'll have found a way to keep me from that, in case I really didn't like our game and used it to actually call for help. A slow smile creeps across my face as I realize just how much you've planned for every eventuality. I don't find anything relating to our whereabouts though, so after a few minutes of searching, I come out of the bathroom and go further down the hall to the study where we've been playing our game. The dice sit on the desk right where we left them, and a briefcase off to the side in a corner catches my attention. I walk over to it and open it, seeing inside some kind of tablet device. I take out the tablet and hit the on button. I curse, however inwardly, as a password field comes up. Dammit, I think, this is going to be difficult. I think for a few minutes, turning the tablet over in my hands as I contemplate what kind of password you might use. I try your name and age. No go. Probably not, I chuckle silently, you're smarter than that. I try your name and age as numbers, the numbers in the alphabet each symbolizing a letter in your name, but that doesn't work. I frown and sigh softly, and try littlestalker. That doesn't work either. The device beeps angrily, probably warning of one last failed entry. I switch it off, place it back in the briefcase and put it back where I found it.

I get up, turn around and walk out of the study and into the kitchen. Here again I glance out of the window and into a small garden. It's beautiful. The moonlight doesn't allow me to see much in the way of detail, but it does allow me to see that some nice, I think they're bean sprouts, are coming up. I imagine more will probably follow. I turn around and search through the kitchen, ending with the refrigerator. Carton of milk, Coke, tea, and for some reason, 7-up. I end the examination, close the refrigerator door and begin looking through the various drawers in the room. Silverware, pens, a stack of sticky notes. I hurriedly glance around as I hear a creak but after listening for a few minutes decide it's nothing. I don't find anything of real interest in the drawers so I make sure everything looks as it did before I searched through and headed back down the hallway toward the study. I enter the room, get the tablet out again-I hope enough time has passed so that I may try a few more passwords. Just out of curiosity I try honey and the loading icon appears. What the hell? I think to myself. Either you meant me to find this or it was a test to see if I'd take the opportunity to wander about while you were sleeping. I see that the time is 5:45 AM. I bring up the device's GPS app and see the surrounding area. How very secluded. Country Hills Apartments, the complex is called. I see something called Journal and, feeling the slightest amount of guilt, I click on it and read through the last entry.

Got him. It was a little bit easier than I thought it would be. I cuffed him in the parking garage after making him kneel and kiss my boots on the hilltop just before the parking garage. I got so wet feeling the power course through me, but I keep reminding myself to play it cool. Power is good, but only if used wisely, and as I do have this fetish about being watched I do not plan to make him suffer. Too much. The drive to the apartment was uneventful. I stopped at a local grocery store to pick up some things we'd need for our long weekend. My baby is now sleeping well, like a baby, in the master bedroom, tied to the bed with silk scarves. The sedatives should be wearing off any minute now. I'd better go see if he's awake and willing to play my games, although judging by his hard-on, I believe he will be.

I'll update more as the situation develops, if I remember to.

Hmm, I think to myself. Planned all along then. But I didn't mind. To be honest I had always had this sort of fantasy where I get kidnapped by a beautiful woman. She has to have the perfect blend of forceful personality and gentle but firm command presence to make it worthwhile to me, but it is something you do seem to possess. The clock now reads 6:00 AM. I hear birds begin to chirp outside. Quickly, I go through the tablet, using a few things I learned from computer friends to cover my tracks so the files I accessed won't show them being accessed at any other time than what they were before I started my perusal. I put the tablet back into the briefcase, stand and head out the door and back to the bathroom. I go in, close the door and take one last pee. I wash my hands, and open the door to find you standing in front of me, smiling gently. You kiss me quietly and say, "Good morning baby. I hope you slept well enough."

Monday, Morning, the Victim

I survey you standing in the bathroom door, zipping up and looking at me with the sort of eager grin on your face that I saw in my dream last night. Your hands are free, and it briefly occurs to me that you could just pounce on me, right there in the hall.

I put the thought out of my mind, knowing it will be too much of a distraction, and smile as you tell me you slept very well, with that knowing grin still on your face. I don't regret letting you cum last night, not one bit. I only hope your next orgasm will be as rewarding for both of us, and not a letdown.

"Good," I say, smiling, and take your hand to lead you toward the dining room. Your fingers caress mine, and a little shiver runs through me. I squeeze your hand to let you know I like what you're doing, and we walk into the kitchen. You sit at the table, and you study me with all your attention as I crack a few eggs into a bowl, scramble them and toss them on a skillet. On another burner, I am frying bacon and I have toast in the toaster. I cover it with butter and a little honey, mix cheese and seasonings into the eggs, and make two heaping plates.

You get up to help me and I nod with appreciation as you set the table and help me with the drinks. You get orange juice for me, after I've shaken my head at the chocolate milk, and tea for yourself. You take both plates back to the table, then we sit across from each other, both eating silently. I woke up ravenous this morning, and it looks like you did also. Good sex always makes me hungry, and I'm sort of pleased to know you are the same way.

I finish my eggs, and look down at the plate, amazed that it's all gone already. I'm still hungry, and I sigh, getting ready to get up and ladle myself more of the delicious cheesy eggs. Before I can move though, I feel one of your hands on my shoulder from behind. You moved around behind me while I wasn't looking, and now you're leaning down over me, gently pressing a steaming forkful of egg to my lips. I break out in a wide, surprisingly giddy grin, taking the eggs and eating them silently. You feed me the rest of your eggs until the plate is clean, then go and eat the rest from the pan yourself. By now, I am full, and I just sit there watching you eat, grinning to myself, my heart beating unexpectedly fast.

While I watch you and get myself back under control, I find myself with a little time to think, and naturally, my mind wanders to the only topic worth thinking about. I give you a long, appraising look, frowning thoughtfully. Besides being a very entertaining toy, I have started to realize I like many things about you: the shy, socially-awkward way you have about yourself that makes you such ideal stalker material, your unexpected streak of kindness, your strength and sensitivity, and above all else, the slight devious glint I think I can see in your eyes sometimes, which makes you still look a little dangerous, even when you're submissively feeding eggs to me from your own plate and dressed in a prison uniform. There is nothing sexier than a dangerous man, barely contained.

Oh, and it doesn't hurt that he has an incredible tongue and an amazing cock.

We finish and you put the plates in the sink. It's getting rather full.

"I think it's about time we washed all these dishes," I say. "Would you mind loading up the dishwasher for me, dear?"

You wordlessly turn to the dishwasher, open it, and gape at the silverware drawer, which is full of clean, variously-colored dildos and vibrators. "It's a good thing you didn't look in there last night isn't it?"

You shudder in an exaggerated way that lets me know you're being playful, and I laugh easily. You are very good at putting me at ease, even with your few words and your social awkwardness at times. Maybe it's because we both know I'm totally in charge of the situation and there's really nothing to be gained by playing games, ahem, at least, not in a social setting. Or maybe it's just because we are compatible in more ways than just sexually.

I refuse to think about that anymore, especially so close to the time when I will have to let you go. You will have to be an incredible toy, on loan to me for now, and that is all. Of course, I have no idea how long you were awake before I woke up and heard you washing your hands in the bathroom, so you might have gotten some information about this apartment, which means you might be planning something. That makes the thought of letting you go a little easier to swallow.

You load the dishwasher dutifully and start it up for me, taking the dildos out of the silverware drawer. I put them away in a large bag my friend keeps hanging on the pantry door, and put them where she usually keeps them, in the hall closet hidden under the shelf with the towels and behind some boxes of extra laundry soap. I can feel you standing a few feet behind me, and wonder briefly if you are tempted to bend me over and just take me from behind. It's getting harder and harder to keep these thoughts from intruding, and I know just hearing you breathing behind me is enough to make me insane.

I turn and see you at a disappointingly safe distance, close the door, and sigh. "Ready for more?"

"Oh yeah," you say, trying for casualness but giving up on that almost in the exact same moment. You walk ahead of me into the office and take your seat. I bend over in front of the desk to open a drawer and get out the Yahtzee sheet, and I see that my briefcase with the tablet in it has been moved a little, and one of the clasps is open. I have a very hard time not squealing in excitement. That would give the game away, and that would ruin everything. I know that you got past the password on the tablet, and I know you saw everything there was to see on it, including the GPS tag. However, that was only accurate enough to say the name of the apartment complex, not the apartment number. I'll have to trust to your intelligent and devious mind to figure out the number and find me again when the time is right.

I come up with the Yahtzee sheet, spreading it out before you on the desk next to the dice.

"If you'll remember," I say, "last night, we ended with you at 134 points and me at 140. You currently have no Yahtzee's, of course, and all your top section except for aces and 2s. All you need is four more points and both of those filled to get one of your orgasms." I grin and slide the dice over to you. "Ready?"

You nod and roll the dice. They land in the box, 1, 2, 4, 4, 6. You make a slight, disgusted noise, and set the 2 aside. I notice you're still eager enough, and obedient, but much more relaxed. You have a hard-on under that jumper, but the orgasm last night took some of the tension out of things. I want for that to change, and quickly. Your second roll is a bust as well, 3, 4, 4, 5. "Uh-oh," I say, and you frown, getting a little more interested in the outcome. You shrug, give up on it, and keep your 4s instead. This surprises me but I don't say anything. You roll them furiously, and they come out 2, 5, 5. "Damn." you say. I nod sympathetically.

"You're still OK," I say as I take the dice from you, writing down your score. "As long as you get even a single ace, you should be fine."

You shrug, still a little upset.

"All right then," I said, "moving on."

I roll the dice into the box: 1, 3, 5, 6, 6. I keep my 6s and reroll the other three dice. you ask me if six is my lucky number, and I give you a playful sneer with my tongue sticking out. The other three come out again as 1, 3, 5. I wonder briefly if the dice are loaded after all before rolling for the last time. This time, the three dice come out 2, 3, 4. "Well crap, that wasn't what I was hoping for," I say. "I guess I'll take a 4. That leaves you with 136 and me with 144."

You glance at the sheet, eyes lingering on the 2s column, and you grin. "Just the thing first thing in the morning, eh?" I ask, licking my lips. "And if you're good and promise to give me plenty of warning, no cock ring this time."

You tell me you'll be good, and I think you're being sincere. I stand up from my chair, but when you try to rise as well, I put my hands on your shoulders and press you gently back down, sending your chair rolling slowly away from the desk. "Stay," I say with a naughty grin. "I'll be right back."

You sit there as I saunter out of the room, closing the office door. When I come back in, I'm dressed in a conservative business suit and carrying a timer in one hand and my handbag in the other. My heels click on the threshold as I walk in and close the door behind me. "Allow me to be the naughty secretary," I say, plopping the handbag down on the desk. "I appreciate all the good work you've been doing for me over the past few days. You are making good progress, and I will give you a very pleasant cliche to reward you. Unfortunately, I only have two minutes before everyone else in the office gets suspicious, so it has to be quick. Give me a tap on the head if you come too close to messing up the upholstery."

Before you can speak, I slam the timer on the desk and slide into the kneehole, pulling your chair up close and unzipping the fly of your jumpsuit. I slide you out of your orange clothing, hard and hot in my hand, and begin licking you all over, getting you nice and lathered with my spit. When that's done, I purse my lips tight, like I did that first night after you watched me in the shower, and force your cock between my lips. It's tight and hard and I can hear you gasping and groaning above me, shudders running through your body. I move slowly, but not too slowly. I want to bring you to the edge at least once before the timer runs out. At first, I'm in complete control, but after awhile, I can hear your heavy breathing and your sounds of pleasure, and I am sucking and licking furiously, moving my mouth up and down your cock, taking you so deep into me that I have to remember not to try to inhale. I make soft moaning sounds as my mouth slides toward the head, and that makes you hitch in your breath sharply. You reach down and stroke my hair encouragingly, and I continue, flicking my tongue over you and around the head, moving my tongue and the roof of my mouth in opposite directions to give you the most friction possible. Suddenly, your feet come down, banging against the sides of the kneehole, and you roll violently away from the desk, fighting down your impending orgasm. I felt your hand on my hair, but didn't read you correctly and you almost came anyway.