The Stalker
Iget to see my girl today, and the thought is making the blood flow straight to my dick.
I’ve been lurking outside her window every night since I had the pleasure of touching her.
The expression on her face replays in my mind like a broken record.
The way her lips parted and her eyes fluttered as she orgasmed on my hand was pure fucking bliss.
I jerked off to the thought of it in the alley behind her complex before I could even make it home.
I swear my balls would have gone purple if I hadn’t had the release.
Next time my cock will be involved in our little interaction, and she'll be the one to get me off.
Curiosity piques my mind with wonder at what emotions ran through her after calling her my Little Flower to her face, letting her know her stalker is eager to make things physical. She wore an expression of fear that had drained all color from her face, and I fucking loved it.
No matter which version of me she gets—the masked stalker or Axel Gray—the torment never ends.
I want to sink into the depths of her mind where she can't escape me.
Where she will do anything for a moment of peace, but it will only be me who can offer her reconciliation.
It will be me everywhere she thinks, and everywhere she looks, like an endless house of mirrors.
Misery loves company, and baby, I'm not afraid to drag you into the abyss with me.
I’m already taking up space in that head of hers. I watched her as she looked up my name, searching for any information on who I might be. The smile I had plastered on my face the whole time left my cheeks burning. I watched her dig deeper and come up with nothing.
I’ve had a way of being able to erase who Axel Gray really is. She won’t learn a thing about me unless I want her to. My little puppet doesn’t know that every move she makes is already a part of the show.
I know that in our session today she will bring up my criminal past, which is something I’m not afraid to share or discuss.
I’m the one who brought it up in the first place, so she would hyper-focus on it.
I want her to fear me. I want her to be so unsure that it makes her completely infatuated with me.
I’m going to make her obsess over me the way she has me obsessing over her.
It’s only fair that I return the sentiment.
I brush off my clothes and open the double doors to the office, making eye contact with the same pair of vacant eyes from last week.
My clothes are as unwelcoming as usual, black like my soul.
It makes picking outfits easier. Black jeans, black shirt, black boots.
What else do I need? I’m a no bullshit type of man.As I walk in her direction, she speaks first. “I will go ahead and check you in, Axel. You can have a seat,” the receptionist says before I take another step.
I turn, walking toward the same chair I sat in last time I was here.
She remembered my name, how sweet. I’m here early, fifteen minutes on the dot.
I wanted to scope out the place a little more before seeing my Little Flower.
I brought a backpack with me this time, filled with cameras that I intend to place in a few rooms. I want to know what she's doing at all times.
“Where is your restroom?” My deep voice fills the silence of the waiting room, and the girl at the desk takes a moment to realize I'm speaking to her.
“It's down the hall, the last door on your left,” she replies, pointing at the doorway.
I grab my backpack and head down the hall, sticking my head into each room first. The first door on the right is the break room. The first door on the left is an office, which I’m assuming belongs to her boss. I take all the mental notes as I walk down the bland hall.
The second door to the right is a room for clients, and so is the one across on the left. I only brought three cameras. I will skip the client rooms, except for my girl’s, of course.
I continue down the hall and notice her door is closed—I know she has sessions before me, so I can wait, I guess. I look to my left and see the restroom that I have no intention of using.
I only asked, so I’d have an excuse to be back here alone—I need to figure out how I’m going to place these cameras so they aren't visible. They are wireless little orbs that are so fucking easy to hide. They also have microphones built into them so I can hear everything.
I walk back toward the break room, making sure no one sees me wandering. It’s empty today. The therapists rotate days, and no more than three people are in the office at a time. At least that's what I've gathered from my visits here. Very convenient for me.
I turn to the left and head into the break room. A kitchenette, a table with a few chairs, and a vending machine fill the space. I glance around, looking for the perfect spot.
A small poster hangs on one of the walls depicting a cat dangling from a tree branch with the words, “Hang in There.” I didn't think people actually had these at work. A quiet chuckle escapes me.
I take one of the small orbs and peel off the backing to reveal the adhesive surface beneath. I look around the room once more, ensuring the emptiness, and quickly press the camera onto the corner of the poster frame.
Blends right in.
I work my way back out to the waiting room, already having decided to place one of the cameras there.
The chair I was sitting in is angled perfectly to give sight of the entire room.
I take the small orb and attach it to the base of the armrest. You wouldn’t be able to see it unless you went looking for it.
Just one more camera. All I have to do is wait for my Little Flower to come get me. In the meantime, I’m going to test the ones I placed to make sure there aren’t any issues. We wouldn't want my efforts to go to waste.
I grab my phone and open the software I've been using for the cameras in her apartment.
I see two new boxes appear with still images.
I click on the first box, camera one, and the video feed switches to the waiting room.
My jeans show in the periphery of the video, but not enough that they are blocking the view.
I click on the second box, camera two, and the break room fills the screen.
A man in a worn suit walks in and heads straight towards the vending machine, putting a dollar in.
A moment later, an ethereal blonde angel walks in.
My girl. A smile fights the corner of my mouth but quickly leaves once I see her face shift into a dreadful expression.
She quickly turns to exit, but before she can, the man in the suit calls her name.
“Taking a moment before your next client?” The man says.
“I was just going to refill my water bottle, but it looks like I may not have time,” she responds, looking at her naked wrist. The worn-suit man grabs his snack out of the little compartment at the bottom of the machine and starts to unwrap the granola bar.
“What's the rush? You don’t have a moment to converse with your boss?” Her boss?
This must be Parker Raines. He owns the place—he had taken over the family business from his father when he retired.
I briefly looked into the history of this place when I found my angel, but didn't go as far as researching what everyone looked like.
I knew his father had owned this place for over thirty years, and from the looks of it, he forced his son to follow in his footsteps, needing someone to leave his legacy to.
I heard he can be quite the douche. With this interaction, I don’t like the way he's speaking to her. I’m about ready to get up and give his ass something else to talk about.
“Parker, I’m really in a rush right now. My next patient is here and my last—”
“How about we converse over dinner sometime?” he says, cutting her off.
She looks taken aback, not knowing how to respond.
The blood rushes to my face, and I am instantly angered.
Who the fuck does he think he is? Asking my girl out for dinner?
As her boss? Every hint in her body posture tells me she wants to tell him to fuck off, but instead she just stands there speechless.
She can’t tell her boss to fuck off without getting fired, I’m sure.
Should I go in there and re-arrange his face?
If I did, they would know I was watching, so that's off the table. I could accidentally walk in? Her faint voice emits through my ear buds, pulling me back to the screen and away from every scenario where I beat the living shit out of him.
“Maybe some other time. I’m sorry, I really have to get to my next client.” That answer pissed me off. She should've said no. I watch her as she escapes, leaving her water bottle on the counter, and heading in my direction.
“Axel Grey?” My head whips up, reminding me I’m not home alone watching her like I usually am.