You fuck yourself to thoughts of these men, their violent ways and abusive aggression. Have you wondered as to what goes on in their head? How they pick their targets? Their process and ritual?
We walk among you. You wouldn’t be able to tell us from the crowd. We’re far too careful for that. Going about the day, the thoughts never stop, needing to repress that constant urge. The need to hunt, to take, and permanently mark, but it takes something special to spark the process.
We notice you immediately, you stand out for one reason or another. It may be your walk, the way you laugh with your friends, the shape of you, how you dressed that day, or maybe an alluring innocence. You’re special, picked out by an internal predator that’s ever hungry. You’re not like the rest, not a set of holes. No, from that moment on, you’re our set of holes, our new obsession.
It’s jolting, a million thoughts rush in as we watch your every move. The compulsion takes over, and there is nothing to stand in the way of what’s to come. We stalk carefully, methodically, revelling in the process. You make it so simple. Your social media easy to access. Your daily activity and routine predictable. Yet seeing you is the opposite. In those few weeks, you give life to every step we take towards you. Oblivious to the joy you bring, and the danger you’re in.
We’re watching, and ever close. Almost tasting you, hearing your screams, and picturing every detail of your consumption. The image of fear in your face, the tears you shed, and the muffle sounds you make. It’s all so easy. I tower a foot over you, not to mention the strength difference. You never stood a chance.
You’ve likely contemplated it. What would you do if you wanted to truly fight back? Kick and scream? We have too, perfecting every movement. One aggressive twist of your wrist and it snaps. Causing you more pain than you’ve ever been in, and sending you into shock. “Shall I get the other?”. You’re frozen. A shell. “Think twice, act properly and maybe this will be fun for the both of us.”
The ritual is incomplete without a marking. It’s our trophy. To mark permanently, not only through the bruising, scratches, cuts, internal tears, and mixing of blood, but most importantly; marked through a seed we will make sure grows in you. “It’s either my seed or my knife. One will be planted in you, and the choice is yours.”.
The next nine months are a waiting game, but it doesn’t take that long before the trauma mixes with your desires. Not long before you start to invite us with those long walks you so happen to take past midnight and in the darkest of alleyways.
We’re only men possessed by our need to take, and you’re there for the taking.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/qfrn3i/the_inner_workings_of_your_predator_mfcnc