I’ve been on the edge of my seat for weeks. I can’t say what it is. There’s just… something. One day the hairs just stood up on the back of my neck and a chill ran through my whole body. I looked around trying to identify the source of this… unsettlement. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but it gnawed at the back of my mind all day. That feeling of being watched, stalked. I couldn’t shake it.
Ever since that first time, it’s been happening more and more often; suddenly from out of nowhere my guts clench, my muscles tense with the instinctual need to make myself small and invisible passed down from my ancestors, I can /feel/ your eyes on me, preying on me. I’ve been so alarmed on on alert but everything seems so small. A cup out of place. My spice rack misordered. The hand towels in my bathroom offset instead of perfectly flush. Such small things it could just be me. But it isn’t me. It isn’t me.
It was driving me crazy… it wasn’t enough for anyone else to go on but I /knew/ someone was in my space. Moving things. Watching me. Fuck. Who? Maybe no one. Am I just imagining this? No. When my deep pink lace panties went missing, I knew for sure. Someone has been in my house. Someone is fucking with me. Who would do this? Why me? I’m just me. Who is it?
So just that. On repeat in my head for weeks trying to figure out who was after me and why.
Terrified of leaving work alone at night. Terrified of going to sleep in this big old house alone in the dark. I want to sleep with the lights on to alleviate these fears, but then… whoever it is that is watching me, they could see me asleep – at my most vulnerable. That’s more terrifying than sleeping in the dark.
So here I am. On edge, terrified. Every slightest sound makes me jump and look about, it’s gotten to the point that I don’t even believe it’s real anymore. I’m just freaking out about nothing. I’m rolling my own eyes at myself. How conceited can I be? Someone’s watching me? Please. I’m not that interesting. Chill the fuck out. Anything to convince myself I’m safe.
It’s been a long ass day. So long I finally lost track of my fear. It’s banal, it’s boring, it’s frustrating, but what a relief to just go to work. Run errands. Finish up chores. Without those butterflies and nagging fears. How stupid, to lull myself into the illusion of safety.
My arms are so full with grocery bags that my fingers twitch trying to find my keys, push the right key into the slot, twist it, and walk inside. I’m so annoyed with everything today that I’m not even paying attention as I walk in and kick the door shut behind me. Walk through the darkened living room into the kitchen.
That’s when it happens, finally. Fuck how did I get so complacent in the midst of all this? Your left hand snakes around my waist, your right hand clamps over my mouth as you lift me off my feet; your hips thrust forward, pushing mine forward – shocked, I drop my groceries and watch them crash to the ground.
I kick my feet out, struggling against you, working so hard to escape your grip. Screaming and crying out from behind your palm, you have such a solid grip on my face there’s no way any sound is escaping me. You laugh in my ear, amused at my attempts to fight. You know exactly how this night is going to go. You’ve had it planned for weeks; somehow the breeze of your breath on my ear as you laugh at my struggle hits me in all the right ways and my cunt melts for you. My mind though – different story.
You carry me to the table and push me down onto it. Holding me by the neck, shoving my face into the table, you thrust your rigid cock into my crotch, bending over me to whisper into my ear, “Oh little girl. You are in for it tonight. You are allowed to cry, but if you bite me, if I feel your teeth for a second, you’ll regret that shit. Do you understand?” Breath hitching, I not my head yes. I’m already crying. Thank god it’s allowed.
“Good girl.”
You bite my ear, my neck, my shoulder, all while grinding your hot cock into my cunt, forcing my body to respond to you, even though I’m fighting you with everything you have. When you hear my cries become a mix of crying, begging, and moaning, you know you have me in the palm of your hand – not just literally, but mentally. “That’s my girl,” you whisper, knowing how much I’ll inwardly recoil at the thought.
Your words renew my fight, I’m struggling against you trying so hard to escape your grip. You know it’s time to remind me of what I am, what you are, so you reach forward and slap my face so hard it rebounds off the table. Again. And again. You pull my shirt up, tug my breasts up out of my bra, and slap my tits so hard I wilt immediately, crying and begging you to stop.
“Shut up, slut.” You grip my hair in your hands and shove me to my knees before you. You tug your button fly open and your rigid cock tumbles out, all I can do is breathe you in, your hard cock in my face so close I can smell you. You take your shaft in your hand and rub your head across my face, circle my mouth with your tip, “Don’t you forget bitch. If I feel your teeth for even a moment you’ll regret it.” I look up at you from behind shuttered eyes, tears spilling over. You shove your cock into my waiting mouth, holding my head in place with your fist in my hair.
Tears begin streaming down my face as I finally begin to understand what these weeks have been, what tonight is going to be. I can’t fight you; I’m terrified, small, and weak. You mercilessly fuck my face while my tears stream down my cheeks. My mascara bleeding all over my cheeks only serves to stiffen you even more, fuck my face even harder, dipping your fingers in my tears. With your fingers wet with my weeping, you slap my face, my tits, my ass, any of my flesh you can reach. The watery tears I’ve left on you only serve to make each hit harder, resound louder.
I’m crying yes, but twitching and bucking my hips – my mind may fight, but my body can’t deny your ownership. My cunt drips wet, so wet, there’s a puddle on the floor beneath me. You pull my face up off of your cock and shove my face into the mess I’ve made on the floor, like an untrained dog.
“Clean up after yourself, you dirty bitch. Lick that up off the floor.”
I obey, more eagerly than you would have thought, slurping my own juices up off the kitchen floor. Your foot presses my face into the tiles, and I can’t help but notice that my eggs have broken, leaking whites onto the kitchen floor shiny and wet, just like me. Disgusted by myself, embarrassed by my desire for you, ashamed to actually want this, I start to cry. Mewling sadnesses pour from my lips.
“That’s right, cunt. You’re mine. You can pretend all you want that you don’t want this, but I know the truth. Look at how wet you are. So fucking wet for me, you pathetic whore.”
You shove your cock deep into my pussy while I cry, humiliated at being shown just what a fuck pig I am. Taking you in, getting wetter with every thrust. I can’t deny how much I want this, how much I am enjoying you. When your cock is dripping wet with my juices, you pull out. Make me wait. Watch while I twitch and wish for you back inside me.
“What do you want, whore? Tell me.”
“No! No no no no no I don’t want this. Stop!!!”
“Liar. You want to know the consequences for lying to me, you little bitch?”
“I”m not. I’m not lying. Stop, please stop!” I sob, working to breathe though these tears.
“You are, and we both know it.” You slap my face so hard my head hits the ground. “What. Do. You. Want. Whore?”
“I want you to stop, please. Please stop…” crying and sobbing, again you slap my face so hard it ricochets off the ground.
“Quit lying. Tell me.”
Broken, face covered in tears and snot, sobbing. Begging. So wet and wanting. “I want you inside me Sir” ashamed, humiliated. “Please. Please let me feel you inside me”
“Mmmmhmmm. That’s what I thought, you stupid cunt.”
“I’m going to give you what you’re asking me for, but I promise, bitch, you won’t like it.”
Sobbing, pleading, “Oh please please please just fill me up. I’m so empty without you inside.”
Chuckling, you push me down and line yourself up behind me, plunging your cock into my ass, the last hole I was expecting. Forcing yourself inside, my whole body shakes as I scream from the pain of being taken almost completely dry. “Nooooooooo god no!” But I’ve wilted into a pathetic, weeping mess. You take everything you want from me, slamming into my ass while I cry and beg.
“Here it comes baby. Are you ready to take my come?”
All I can do is cry. You love it, love my tears, my fight, my surrender. You come deep into me, shoving my face into the ground as you grind your coming cock deep into my asshole.
Without even a moment to rest, you pull your cock out of me, button up your fly, and say, “I might come back. We’ll see. And won’t you feel lucky if I do? You stupid whore.”
You don’t wait for me to reply. You just leave. Leave me there a pathetic, mewling mess, knowing you can come back any time you want. Or not. Fuck me—
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/11eve05/me_43f_and_my_cnc_stalker_40m_cnc_stalking_anal