The Watcher Ch. 01

My name is Alyssa, and I like to watch. What do they call it? Negligence? Depraved indifference?

Whatever it's called, it is a sadist's sweetest pleasure to know that they can stop someone else's suffering, and choose not to. Most people approach their breaking point rather quickly. The deeper and more destructive the indifference, the harder you are apt to come in the end...the trouble is holding your load for long enough.

I want to tell you how things look from my side of the street, I know you've been curious. I only ask one thing...no touching. No rubbing your shorts, no sneaking brushes past your nipples. I want to take you back to the night I set up one of my students to be sexually assaulted by three women...while I stood back and recorded the whole thing on my phone.

Everything is in place. The tripod, which you may or may not use, has been set up and aimed at the floor in the center of the room. You consider the veracity with which she will most likely struggle when she arrives, and power down the camera. If anything, she'll break it. You dismantle the tripod and lean it against the far right corner of your living room, to which you have drawn all the shades.

Cassidy, Sandy and Jessie have prepared drinks in the kitchen and are talking about how horny they are, giggling, and chatting quietly about the money. You can't hear everything they are saying but you don't need to. All is right with the world.

All you need now is your guest of honor, whom you've invited over to your house for a study session after school. You have spent a great deal of time with this student over the last few months, empathizing with her, listening carefully to her as she recounted bouts of abuse, gaining her trust, and memorizing her weaknesses. Her name is April, and she is eighteen years old.

You are much older, mid thirties, tall and confident. Cassidy is thirty-three. Sandy and Jessie are both thirty four, and where else would you have found them but online? Most people would be surprised what they could find on the dark web if they looked hard enough. You chose three women instead of four becuse three is all you feel you will need to subdue her, and you know that to spend all of your money in one place is to limit your readiness to handle life problems...like attorneys.

Males will appreciate the physical components of this memorabilia more than females, who will be more likely to enjoy the psychology behind it, but the story itself caters to both sexes. Sexually sadistic females are a rare breed, but perhaps the most precious breed on earth. The sadistic female hunts, but does not kill. Rather, she takes possession of the victim's mind, and turns it against itself.

Males who possess the ability to do so tend to relate more to women than to other men, on whom they would rather avoid spending precious time. Most men cannot appreciate emotional torture as they lack the ambition to master it. Most of them just want to get their dick wet and move on. That is the other reason you chose females...to make it last.

You have mastered every detail. You know that none of your neighbors are home. You have memorized their schedules and have timed the attack so as to ensure that no one can step in and stop you, for as long as nobody stops you, you have no reason to stop the girls. This leaves your student entirely at your mercy...for the next three hours, anyway.

It isnt long before you hear the doorbell, and for a moment, you wish April had waited just a little longer to show, but the excitement of knowing that you will soon see her squirming against nostalgia makes you smile.

The girls coo excitedly in the kitchen and you watch the line of them pour into the living room. You raise your eyebrows to them and toss them a sadistic smile as they sit on two couches at opposite sides of the room, Cassidy and Jessie on one couch, and Sandy on the other. They have left their drinks in the kitchen, and you marvel at the french manicures that each of them has had done up to please you.

As it is your home, it is only proper that you make your way to the door and open it to find April standing there with her books clutched to her chest.

She is not the waif that she used to be. In her second year of recovery from a nearly life long battle with anorexia, she now has patches of cellulite that roll off her hip bones. The jeans that she wears do a decent job of hiding the damage for anything less than a passing glance, but anything more would reveal the truth. Each of the girls that you have hired are height to weight proportionate, and they all know to make a spectacle of April's lack of perfection.

She smiles at you nervously and you invite her in.

"Oh," stopped shyly, suddenly on alert, "I didn't know you had guests."

You reach around her to close the door. You know this will prompt her to move as your discussions with her have told you that she is submissive by nature. She does so, a look of confusion playing across her face, mixed with a vain attempt to the hide the unease which has now gripped her. You bolt the door.

Each of the girls has smiled at her and each of them has stared her up and down. She wears a black silk top bearing the sweet meat of her thick upper arms.

You smile at her.

"College friends," you tell her, then you gesture to each one and assign each of them a false name. You suspect that they have given you false names begin with, but you use aliases anyway to make sure that everyone but April walks away happy.

April has black hair that falls easily down past her shoulders, full pouty lips and what look to be C cup breasts behind a text book and a notebook, which you now take from her. Notably embarassed, she wraps herself in a hug and the girls sm'ile wider.

Cassidy wears a long sleeve white tee shirt and black yoga pants. She is 5'6'' and has long, flowing, fire red hair.

Jessie is a bit taller at 5'8'' and has dirty blonde hair with the tips dyed purple. She wears ripped jeans and a black tee shirt bearing the phrase 'FUCK NORMAL' in big black letters. She has done her research. She wears a red bracelet and a purple bracelet on the same hand. April recognizes them right away as a representation of Jessie's struggles with her own eating disorder as an active member of the proana community.

You watch her eyes fall on the bracelets for a few moments longer than she would have liked. You smile at Cassidy, who smiles back at you.

Sandy wears pink sweatpants and running shoes with a white tee shirt covering a sports bra. She is about as tall and Cassidy and has long hair about the same color as April's. She chews gum through a soft smile.

"What's the matter kiddo?" April spins around to find Sandy's cold eyes boring into hers. "You look tense."

April chuckles nervously.

"I'm just, not used to-" She turns to Jessie, who has risen from the depths of the couch and walked to the front door. She leans against it with her arms crossed over her chest, no smile this time. "Um-" Cassidy and Sandy have likewise stood up. They approach Cassidy, smiles playing across both of their faces. You toss April's books onto the couch from which Sandy has risen and reach into your pocket for your phone. "What's going on here?"