tagNonConsent/ReluctanceUnwanted Obsession Ch. 05

Unwanted Obsession Ch. 05


If you are here merely for sexual release, I suggest one of the earlier chapters in this series (or another one of my stories). If you are here because you want to know what happens next, hurry up and keep reading.


Louise was walking along the side of the road. Her backpack was on her back, her other bag she had abandoned. Most of all, she wanted to hide in the fields, but the only one who knew where she was, the only one who might think of searching in the fields, was the one she didn't want to be found by.

Stop thinking about him. He won't be coming back, he let you go.

Where people were, that was where she needed to be. It was too dark. Louise had been afraid of the dark when she was small, but now she knew there were real things to fear. The darkness was her friend now. If he should come back she could run into it, hide in it.

Just as Louise realised dark was good, the moon came out lighting the fields and the road alike.

He let me go. He won't come back, Louise tried to convince herself. It's over now.

A car was speeding in the distance. Louise stopped and stared at the far off headlights. Not sure why she was so sure it was speeding. No cars had passed her since he had dropped her off. If one had she would have jumped out on the road, waving and screaming to stop it.

The speeding car would be the first to come.

Louise stared at the, still far off, headlights, thinking that standing in front of a speeding car, probably wasn't a good idea. Maybe it would still stop for her if she jumped and screamed at the side of the road.

The headlights came closer, but Louise didn't make a move to jump and wave. I'll stop the next car. For some reason she didn't want that particular car to stop.

Hide. How fast was that car driving? American roads were so damned long and straight, distances were hard for her to estimate. Run. She couldn't see what kind of car it was in the moonlight, she could just see the headlights.

Louise stood absolutely still, staring at those speeding headlights. She could hear it now. Tires and engines roaring, purring loudly as if the car had been born to hunt. Run!

Her hands were trembling within the bandages covering her lower arms, wrists and palms. It's not him. Why would he let me go just to...

The car was really close, she still stared straight at it, now to convince herself that it wasn't his car. But, if it wasn't his car then why wasn't she jumping and waving?

At high speed the car approached, it was really close now. It would pass soon. Louise's breath was shallow and fast. It will pass soon. But she knew it wouldn't, deep down she knew it even before the car started slowing down.

Her hands reached for her backpack straps but couldn't get hold of them. Her breath thundered even above the noise of the car. She had to get the backpack off. If she didn't get it off, she couldn't run properly.

The car was almost at her. Her hands clawed helplessly at her shoulders, trying to get hold of those straps. The car passed her with whining breaks. It sounded like the scream of a charging feline.

Louise turned to the field and raised a foot to run. The backpack was heavier than ever. She couldn't get it off, and it was pushing her down, pushing her feet into the ground.

The soil in the field was soft and deep. Her feet stuck in it. He was right behind, she knew it. Both her feet sunk into the field, she was sinking, the mud was eating her alive.

"I will never let you go," said 'Joe' from behind her. "You are mine."

Panting, Louise sat up in bed. It's a dream. It's a dream. She raised a hand to her forehead.

"Du drømmer bare," she whispered. - You're just dreaming.

Her heart was pounding overtime, playing techno on her ribs. She was sweating, her whole body was drenched in it. Especially her panties. That isn't sweat. The corners of Louise's mouth pulled down in disgust at the realisation.

Three months had passed since 'Joe' had let her go, had caught her again, and had let her go again.

Louise laid back into her bed and stared up at her ceiling, trying her best not to hate herself for being physically aroused.

For three months, she hadn't had sex. That wasn't all that different from life before 'Joe'. She could go for months without sex. With her demands to sex, finding a partner wasn't as easy as going to the nearest pub. No, she had always been able to go some months without.

Her bruises were gone. Even her wrists were back to normal. There was no evidence left that 'Joe' had ever happened.

Really, nothing needed to be different. She had returned home and had resumed her life. Shit happens, but then you move on.

So, she had chosen not to have sex. That was only natural and healthy. Wasn't it? A time out to refind herself before resuming. Nobody would advice a rape-victim to hurry up and jump back into intimacy, would they?

Louise's heart was still pounding too hard.

Fear and nausea.


Louise hadn't reported the crime. He came back. Louise had been in one hell of a hurry to get her feet off American soil. He let me go and then he came back. Louise hadn't even tried to reimburse part of her ticket home, she had just bought a new one. Every step of the way home she had glanced over her shoulder, because, he had let her go, she had been safe, and then he had come back for her.

And nausea...

When a woman was raped, something would change inside her, and she would no longer desire sex. She would be frigid until finding a man who, with love and caring, could reinstate her sex drive. Or, alternately, the woman would seek strength inside herself, she would refind herself, her feminine values, and would resume her life fully --including sex.

At least that was the understanding Louise had gained from society and fiction. That was the story, right?

Woman got raped, woman lost her desire for sex. That's how it was supposed to happen.

So why hadn't that happened? Tears formed in Louise's eyes. Why the fuck hadn't that happened?

Louise hadn't contacted the authorities, neither American nor Danish, and Louise hadn't sought help. She had just returned home and had resumed her life. Nobody knew what had happened on her vacation, nobody but her and 'Joe Payne'.

What if he comes back again? Louise glanced at the baseball bat on her night-stand. He won't come back.

If anybody asked her about the baseball bats in her apartment, Louise would lie and say they were souvenirs from her vacation.

The bats were American, they looked American at least, but Louise hadn't brought them home with her. She had bought them in a local sports-store.

She hated the bats, because, in a way, the bats really were souvenirs. She hadn't brought them with her from USA, but she didn't feel safe without them. And that fear was something she had brought home with her.

Louise sat up again, she wouldn't be able to fall asleep again. She hated the slippery feeling between her private folds. As if it were a wet dream. At least the feel of horny had left.

Sex drive. Since reconciling fully with her fetish, her sexual desires, Louise had been happy about her sex drive.

Sex was pleasure, whether alone or with partners. Partners could be a while in between, but Louise wasn't accustomed to going far in between sexual release. Before her vacation she had usually had one orgasm a day, sometimes more.

Louise had been a great fan of daily self-service.

With the back of one hand, Louise wiped her eyes. Then abandoned her bed for the shower to rid herself of the slimy feeling.


The edges of Louise's mouth pulled further down. She hadn't thought of her own juices as slimy since her teens. Not until returning from America at least.

Three months had passed since she came home. Louise hadn't had a single orgasm since 'Joe'. She just couldn't do it. She couldn't touch herself, couldn't stand touching herself. Because, when she tried, every time she tried, her mind tried to go where it had always gone when she touched herself.

She didn't want to go there, not anymore, never again.

Ronald did his best to remain calm and gathered, while the bald man with the thick glasses spread pictures out on the table before him.

Who would have thought that Rose had a stalker? For the life of him Ronald couldn't figure out why anyone would have wanted to stalk Rose. By all means, Rose was attractive. All jewelry-whores were. It was a requirement for the trade.

But that was all there was to her. Rose was as commonplace as liposuction. Nothing about her warranted obsession.

How could somebody, anybody, get it into his mind that Rose was sufficiently fascinating to stalk?

"So you see, Mr. Jackson. Miss Blooming does believe that she has a case."

Ronald raised his eyes from the pictures to the lawyer. This wasn't a matter of a lawsuit and they both knew it. This was blackmail, plain and simple.

"What does she demand?" asked Ronald.

"The same as if you were married," said the lawyer, his lips widening in the greediest smile Ronald had ever seen.

Ronald leaned back, still locking eyes with the lawyer.

"I'll give her a million," said Ronald. "Cash."

The lawyer's smile widened, his teeth glistening with saliva. Ronald loved money too, but couldn't imagine ever drooling over money. Though disgusted, he didn't even wrinkle his nose. Ronald was keeping his calm.

"My client wants half of everything you've got, Mr. Jackson. No negotiations."

Ronald's eyes went back to the pictures. They were printouts from videos.

"You can't expect a woman to forget something like that for a mere million, Mr. Jackson," said the lawyer, nodding at the pictures.

"Half of what I've got is a lot," said Ronald. "I'll need some time to think about it."

"Of course, Mr. Jackson," said the lawyer.

Ronald noticed that every time the disgusting little man pronounced an o, his mouth attained an uncanny resemblance to an anal ring.

"Take three days, Mr. Jackson," continued the lawyer. "In the meantime, I will be preparing the papers."

"I will take a week to think about it," said Ronald.

The lawyer gathered the pictures in a neat pile and handed that to Ronald.

"Four days," said the lawyer. "You can't expect Miss Blooming to wait longer than that."

"I will get in touch," said Ronald, accepting the pile of pictures.

How could anyone ever get it into their heads to stalk Rose? thought Ronald again, while taking the elevator down to the lobby.

The lawyer had grinned and drooled because he was certain Ronald would pay up. Anyone with half a brain would rather lose half their fortune than their freedom. Besides, if Rose should take those videos to the police, Ronald wouldn't just lose his freedom for a good while, he would also lose his ability to do business.

Nobody in their right minds wanted to do business with lunatics. And if those videos showed anything, apart from what Ronald had done to Rose, then it was that Ronald wasn't quite right in the head.

The lawyer had been correct in assuming that Ronald would pay half his fortune to make this disappear. Ronald would have paid more than half his fortune for that to happen.

The problem was, however, that at this time, Ronald's fortune wasn't half as large as that lawyer and Rose believed it to be.

He had offered one million, because one million was all he had to offer at this time.

Three months earlier, Ronald had lost a lot of money. Almost everything he had.

Apart from Ronald himself, nobody knew exactly how much he had lost. Part of being a successful businessman was to appear to be that. In time, he expected to again be as wealthy as he had been. But, he doubted Rose would be willing to wait that long.

Ronald went home. His mansion was a lease. Not many people knew that.

He studied the pictures of Rose and himself.

Rose Blooming. A name too obviously of her own making. The woman wasn't half as stupid as the name implied, though.

Shit, thought Ronald, thinking about Rose. Even if I can convince her lawyer that all I have is a mill. Rose will never settle for that.

Actually, Ronald didn't believe that Rose would settle for half of what she thought he owned. Ronald was sure that Rose was planning to leak the videos as soon as he paid up.


Ronald's fortune had met disaster while he had been on a hunt. The best hunt of his life. His cock throbbed at the very thought of it. That hunt. It had been special.

He had been restless ever since, though.

Being broke is nerve-wrecking, thought Ronald. But, being broke was not what had caused the mess with Rose.

Rose was an experiment, that was all she had been. A failed experiment.

Ronald returned his attention to the pictures. Why did I beat up a woman who knows my name? He hadn't meant to beat her up. It had been an accident. Well, she had pissed him off.

He closed his eyes and remembered.

Rose had been his high maintenance, jewelry whore, girlfriend through two weeks before the experiment had gone awry. He had just been showering when...

Ronald stepped out of the shower. After a good long shower wanking session, his cock was finally giving him a moment's peace. Maybe paying ten thousand dollars for a single necklace was a bit over the top, thought Ronald.

He had started collecting jewellery lately. Jewellery with emeralds in it.

"Yeah, ten thousand was a bit over the top," said Ronald to his reflection in the mirror. But, she would look really good wearing it. Ronald's cock started growing at the image in his mind.

Yes, she would look good wearing that necklace, thought Ronald. He could imagine her wearing that necklace above a white dress with a deep cleavage. He could imagine her wearing that necklace naked on his bed.

"I love you, Ronald," she could whisper, her eyes outshining the necklace.

Ronald's cock pounded so hard it almost hurt.

She would look fucking irresistible, he thought, jacking off to the mental image.

After a second shower, Ronald dried up and walked to his bedroom. His high maintenance girlfriend, Rose, was waiting for him there.

"Hey there, big guy," she sighed, in a voice he assumed was meant to be erotic. Apart from a transparent night gown she was naked.

"Hey there, Rose," said Ronald, almost regretting his second wanking session in the shower. Rose was attractive and the way she held one hand against her neck just then, almost made her look adorable.

"I found your surprise," said Rose.

"Did you like it?" asked Ronald. He had bought her a two-thousand dollar bracelet and was not at all surprised to learn that she had searched his pockets for gifts. It wasn't the first time she hadn't waited for him to present a piece.

"I love it," said Rose and lowered her hand, showing him the necklace she was wearing.

Ronald narrowed his eyes.

"What the hell are you doing with Lowish's necklace?" he hissed.

"You mean it wasn't for me?" asked Rose, managing to look hurt.

"Of course it wasn't for you," hissed Ronald. "Do you really think I'd buy something like that for someone like you?"

Rose's mouth dropped open with surprise, she considered herself high quality. Very high quality.

"Shut your mouth," said Ronald. "You look like you're about to blow a horse."

Rose closed her mouth and jumped off the bed.

"We're through," she said, and started past Ronald.

"Not so fast," said Ronald and grabbed hold of one of her arms. "Give me my necklace."

"Fine," replied Rose. "Have your fucking necklace." She reached up, grabbed hold of the necklace and tore it off.

Maybe she had expected it to break clean in the closing mechanism, but that wasn't what happened. Still holding on to Rose's arm, Ronald stared at the broken necklace in her hand. It had torn apart just next to the central emerald in the front. One of the stones broke free and fell to the floor.

Ronald's eyes followed the stone's fall to the floor, while thinking about how good Lowish would have looked wearing that necklace. Half a second later the rest of the broken necklace landed next to the first stone. Rose had simply let go of it.

"There's your necklace," said Rose.

My emeralds, thought Ronald, staring at the jewellery...

Ronald gathered the pictures on the table. Thinking about the past wouldn't solve his current problem. A picture of Rose crawling across the floor in a pathetic attempt to escape him, ended up at the top of the pile. He studied the picture closely. He couldn't remember that happening.

Mentally, Ronald shrugged. There was no doubt as to the authenticity of the pictures, he just couldn't remember much of the first beating.

Rose had really pushed him the wrong way.

She had been thoroughly bruised and was begging for her life by the time he had come to his senses. His cock had been throbbing when Ronald had returned from black-out land. The sight of the cowering Rose hadn't made things better.

She thinks she is good enough to wear Lowish's necklace, he had thought, and had almost sunk back into that place that was so hard to remember. Ronald had forced himself to stay in the real world. But he hadn't backed down.

Once you have said A, you might as well say B, he had thought.

He had given Rose the full treatment then. Had made her one of his victims. But, afterwards, he couldn't just let her go as he usually did his prey. Rose wasn't some woman he had picked up while hunting under a fake alias, she knew his real name.

Ronald had seriously considered killing Rose. He knew he would be a suspect if Rose should go missing. But, murder suspect in a missing person's case still sounded safer than accused of brutal rape and abuse.

Yet, at the end of the day, Ronald just wasn't the guy that committed cold-blooded murder. Once past the loss of the necklace, he didn't feel strong enough about Rose to want to kill her.

Instead of killing Rose, he had kept her till her bruises faded. No, Ronald didn't have any strong feelings about Rose. After a week of 'keeping her' he had hardly even bothered fucking her anymore.

Who would ever have thought Rose had a stalker? thought Ronald again, shaking his head. Ronald certainly would never have guessed that a pathetic young man had made camp in his garden and was recording Rose's every move.

Apparently, sometime after Ronald had let Rose go, the young man had felt bad about not interfering and had contacted Rose, putting Ronald in this rather unfortunate situation.

You've left me no choice, Rose, thought Ronald. Still looking at the picture of Rose crawling.

Ronald wasn't the kind of man who could walk into a room and commit cold-blooded murder, but he did consider himself able to ask someone else to arrange it.

Since youth, Ronald had been a legit businessman, had kept his business affairs on the right side of the law. So far, only his pleasures had crossed that line. In spite of profitable offers, he had planned to keep things that way. Even after losing his extensive fortune he had still planned to keep his business affairs legit.

But now...

If you need them, join them, thought Ronald. You shouldn't have cornered me, Rose. He didn't really feel guilty about the fate he was planning for Rose. He had let her go. Not staying gone had been her choice.

As for the lawyer and the stalker:

You reap as you sow.

(Five months after.)

Louise unlocked her front door and stepped in. Home sweet home. Her first days at her new job, her first job as cand.scient. , had been nerve-wrecking. Her new boss couldn't quite seem to figure out whether to treat her as a glorified laboratory technician or as an equal in expertise.

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