27 YEARS OLD
She thinks I’m gone.Lured by the false sense of security I’ve concocted by being extremely quiet, but I’ve tucked myself away in her attic. I can see her on the cameras I’ve placed around her ranch style house, buzzing away with anxiety. Wondering if she’s lost her mind.
I love toying with her like this. Making her sweat. Making her wonder. Making herfeel.
If only she knew who’s been fucking with her.
I see the moment she logs onto her computer, attempting to purchase herself more toys. Her cart is full of pleasure devices that I easily cancel with the stroke of a key.
If she wants something that will make her come, I am more than happy to oblige. Finding a website that makes a mold of your desired shape, I place a rush order, making sure to send it to the motel I’m staying at. I’ll send her something to play with while she thinks her toys are on the way. If she wants something to fuck her, it’ll be my own cock giving her that pleasure.
She gets herself ready for her subscribers. People paying my girl to get herself off. I don’t blame her or judge her for how she makes her money. But I can’t pretend that it doesn’t makeme jealous as hell knowing how many people are seeing what belongs to me.
I can forgive her, though. For now.
She doesn’t remember who she is. Who we are to each other.
These dares that I have planned for her will help her unlock her memories. To show her who the true enemy is. Not the one the media painted for the world to see. She should know just how brave she is for escaping that place. Some of us were stuck there for years after, enduring the abuse. Knowing exactly what they were capable of if you went against their rules.
Hazel deserves to stop running. And I’ll make sure she gets that chance.
I watch as she starts her performance, and I can’t help but become entranced. Pretending this little show of hers is just for me.
She removes her lacy clothes, positioning herself in front of the camera in a seductive pose. Legs spread as she sits on a pink fuzzy chair. Giving me the perfect view of her glistening wet pussy. Her eyes are heavy with lust. Lashes fluttering against her round freckled cheeks. Lips plump and painted red as blood. Lace mask fixed to her face, obscuring some of her beautiful features. The wig she’s wearing today is jet-black and cut to her chin. Just looking at her gets me hard.
I’m laying right above her. Just a few floorboards and drywall keep us apart. But I need to be close to her.
Watching her. Until she’s ready for me.
I can wait.
The screen on my computer shows how she uses her long delicate fingers to play with herself. Wishing it was me between her legs. I imagine those are my fingers spreading her wide, flicking against her clit while I plunge deep inside her. Hitting just the right spot.
She moans, and I can’t take it any longer. I roll onto my back and pull my cock out, positioning the laptop within sight.
Her dusty rose nipples are pulled into twin peaks, and she teases herself circling one and then the other with her free hand. It’s tantalizing. Fucking captivating.
I match her rhythm. Working my hand down my shaft, pretending every move is her. Every stroke and twist is her hand on me. Eyes fluttering, I watch her every movement. Listening intently at every noise she makes. I can tell she’s holding back. Probably fucked in the head from what I’ve put her through, but that’s even more of a turn on for me. Knowing I got to her. That I’m occupying those twisted thoughts in that pretty little head of hers.
How I’d love to have her on top of me right now. Riding me like she’s riding her own hand. The image is so vivid I can almost believe it’s real. That it’s just the two of us entangled in each other. Her lips whispering my name as I make her come.
Pleasure erupts down my spine. My cock thick and hard, pulsating with desire. I can’t hold it back anymore and as I come in a thick hot stream. I picture it filling her cunt, taking every drop I have right where it belongs.
Cleaning myself up, I wait. Watching as she shuts her computer down and gets ready for bed.
And when she falls asleep, that’s when I’ll come down from the attic. Just a little while longer, and we’ll continue this game of ours.
CHAPTER 8
HAZEL
27 YEARS OLD
My eyes areheavy with sleep as I fight against succumbing to the temptation of my soft blankets, I’m currently wrapped in. I need to be awake just in case whoever has been taunting me decides to come back. Every muscle in my body is tense as the seconds tick slowly into minutes. I’ve had several cups of coffee to help me stay awake already, which is doing nothing to help my anxiety. The mixture of caffeine, alcohol, and my prescription pills leaves my head buzzing and chest feeling fluttery. But at least I’m semi-awake, sitting pressed up against a wall of pillows that line my headboard, knife in hand. I glance around the room, hyper aware of every little sound, trying to decipher if it’s wind or something…else. Someone else.
I realize this solution isn’t sustainable. I’ll need to sleep sometime, but I can make it through one night. Just until the cameras that I ordered get here. Thankfully, they had overnight shipping.
Exhaustion claws at me.
