Hiding from Her

Chapter 11 | Her

Last night’s release was a much needed one. My throat is heavy with a sick sense of humor that no one will ever know. The recollections are mine to keep and twist or use as and when I like.

Nevertheless, my conscious is guilty for using the memories that are supposed to haunt me, as my release still makes me bite my lips. But it was worth every moment considering the toe-curling orgasm that followed soon after.

I’m the worst person ever.

The memory of those piercing eyes, his lips so soft yet so brutal on me...everywhere; the sick laughter and the disturbingly gut-wrenching arousal. I must be going crazy with so much going around me to have a special sick corner for such memories inside my head.

I mean I hate him... but my body loves his touch. So why not?

I chose to do it in the bathtub since there aren’t probable cams in there. That’s what I assume since he was hysterical about being right in front of the mirror in the corner of the room when I attempted to go change in the bathroom.

Which makes it a perfect spot for me to do what I need to do.

I smile to myself in the dressing mirror. Feeling scandalous, maybe.

I’ve been on a routine to please myself for the past two days. Why the hell am I horny all the time these days? It frustrates the hell out of me for two whole minutes before I surrender and head over to the bathtub, my soulmate.

When I return, I feel a stinging pain in my lower abdomen. I check the date on my home screen. I haven’t started bleeding yet, but that does explain the horniness... I guess.

Taking the opportunity, I pack my stuff without making it obvious and avoiding the places where a spy cam may happen to be placed. Can’t let him discover what I’m up to.

Tomorrow, I leave. The day I run back into safety. No more sick adventures for me. It is relieving and distressing in a strange way. My head is a disturbing place to be; chaotic to be precise.

One night... that’s all you have to survive. You’ve done good so far, you’re not screwing up now.

I try shutting my brain down with some chips and red wine that Jess sneaked out at the night of one of our office meetings. Couple that with a horror flick and it becomes the perfect way to pass time.

The movie ends at about midnight and the FMC in me craves adventure. Something mischievous fills my mind. Bravery seems to find its way inside me right before my escape from tense situations like these. I know I’m going to pull a sick prank that could land me in a horrible position. By the time the asshole will realize what you did there, you’ll be gone.

And he must be done with you... or probably dead. What else would it be? He hasn’t contacted you in a fortnight.

And although it might be stupid, but I still manage to vent out my pent-up anger on him and flash the infamous finger at the mirror before pulling off the overcoat of my nightie and toss it over... somewhere. Should I care to look? NO, because I’m way too happy to care.

I’ve been drinking like a fish these days. Perhaps that’s the reason why everything’s so light... too dizzy to think straight.

You cannot fuck with me anymore, asshole!A chuckle rises at the thought.

Light headed, I go over to the terrace and look at the beauty of murkiness spread past the penumbra of the street lights; my mind searching for some kind of paranormal activity in the reserved forest land that stretches beyond the boundaries of the neighborhood... just like the movie.

A thought that often crosses my mind in such situations... We always try to look for demons in the dark, when in reality most of them hide in the bright wearing masks that only comes out when the sun goes down.

But for the sake of the movie... I guess I need to look more closely.

Just as I bend over the railing, a sudden activity at the periphery catches my attention and my focus shifts from the darkness to the light flicking on and off in the window right above my floor.

The dim light that goes on and off. Light and dark. Poetic.

And its similarity to a scene from the movie I just saw... My brain prepares for a jump scare while I stare into the window like I might catch glimpse of a ghost. Is my landlord a ghost? My brain mocks at me, easing the tension in my nerves from focusing too much.

The light goes off one final time, filling the room in gloom. Darkness in the finality. That’s so creepy to even imagine. Laughing at the stupid thought, I head in before sliding shut the terrace door.

And just at that moment I feel a rush of warmth dripping down there; making me hurry towards the cupboard to get to the pack of sanitary pads. The need to sprint without spilling anything on the floor tenses my muscles and right before I reach for the pack, the lights go out.

Fuck!What a shitty timing for the lights to go out. And what the hell is back up for?

But when I see the view outside my balcony, I instantly freeze.

The whole of outside is lighted, like there was no power cut two seconds ago. Then what the hell is wrong with my apartment lighting, and who am I supposed to call at this hour to come check. The night watchman must already be out on rounds.

I could still call someone, but where’s my phone?

I feel a small droplet trickle down my thigh. Double fuck! I need to find my phone fast.

My hand skims the top of one of the nightstands, finding nothing except my laptop seated on it. I slowly trace my way to the other side of the bed only to find nothing on that one as well. Where did I keep it before the movie?

As I make way towards the door, a strange feeling makes the hair on the back of my neck rise. All my senses are suddenly on high alert.

Why am I sensing company... It must be my brain playing tricks on me, that it typically does after a horror movie.

I don’t know. But what I do know is that I am not being tricked until I find my cellphone. And I am certainly not running into a ghost.

On reaching the hallway, which is oddly dark, I collide with something hard; like a wall... Only there isn’t a wall where I’m at. Horror filling my head and every single hair on my body is erect, ready for something terrible. Yet my blood runs cold the moment I run my hands over it; an image forming at the back of my mind.

This isn’t a wall.It’s the figure of a man standing absolutely still in pitch darkness of the doorway.

With a sharp intake of breath, I jolt trying my chance at running in the opposite direction back inside the room. But a strong hand catches me by the back of my neck to pull me back towards the figure. A sharp yelp escapes my throat almost involuntarily, before I feel someone breathing close to my ear, whispering in a ghastly voice, “Bad idea to play games with me, sweetheart.”

My heart dips low in my chest as I realize the voice isn’t even human. It’s heavy in an inhumanly manner. This has to be some kind of a modulator. What kind of a psychopath wears a fucking voice modulator. Probably the kind who slips inside other people’s houses in pitch black lights out.

He clicks on my phone, making the light from it fill the space between us. “Is this what you came looking for?”

I yelp, and then my speech is lost at the sight of my creep; the face painted fucker. Fuck!

The wicked grin creeping from beneath the paint is enough to paralyze me with fear. His eyes locked to mine, looking down at me like the monster that he is.

“Please don’t hurt me.” I beg; because that’s the most logical thing to do now that I am trapped in my own house.

“Begging for the wrong things, my poor muffin... sad to inform you but that won’t change a damn thing.” The sarcasm behind his amusement is begging me to basically throw up on his fucking face.

I muffle the bark that was about to escape, “I did what you wanted and you’re still –”

“Did I not tell you to refrain from covering the mirrors?” He snarls into my ear.

In that moment, I suddenly remember the mistake I committed in the name of bravery. The overcoat of my nightie... it must’ve landed on the mirror. Shit!

It was such a bad idea to drink tonight... The wine made me lose my sense of judgement. Happens every time I drink, but I still did. Stupid – stupid me!

“Your mistake was my call to fulfil my promise. You see, I am a man of my words.” He has this evil laughter that could classify as the perfect laughter for a psychopath before he murders his victims.

“I’m sorry. Please don’t hurt me. It was a mistake. I made a mistake... I’ll do whatever you want, please leave... just this time. Please!” The patience is long gone and in its place is fear and desperation to get the fuck out of this situation.

“I’ll leave...” His expressions are difficult to read in the dim lighting of my phone; but logic says, it can’t be that easy. “But first, as you insisted, you’ll do what I want.” His smirk is unmissable even in this darkness.

There! I knew there has to be a catch. You’re fucking screwed, Disha.

“Show me your pretty finger again...” he demands.

“What?” I whisper. Astonished... and terrified. Why would he want me to do that. again?

“Are you doing it or not? Don’t make me force you into it, sweetheart.”

The threat that lingers beneath those words are enough to worsen the panic that’s already blocking my mind, but I still look away in order to hide it. I do not have an option right now. But then he’s forcing my face back to meet his ominously gray eyes.

“This...” he says, pushing up my middle finger in the same way that I did earlier, “I want to fulfill your wish. I want this.”

Licking the tear that slips from the corner of my eye, he whispers in a threatening tone, “In case you do not understand... I want to fuck you.”

More tears follow his words, and he does not hesitate to lick every drop; does not hesitate before continuing, “I want to fuck you so good... that you remember it all your life; that you remember if you ever try to let anyone even come close to what belongs to me. So good that you remember my face every time you look in the mirror; every time you touch yourself. So good that you’ll feel just as incomplete without me inside you, as I feel without you.”

“Fuck you, you asshole!” I bark.

His chuckle is that of an insane person. “Sweetheart, when we do, you’ll scream even louder.”

And then, he releases my neck, his fingers tracing the skin on my shoulder and down the hands before gripping both my wrists together and tying them with the help of what feels like hard leather. A belt, I can tell by the way it cuts on my skin.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I fight against the restraint to no avail. Dread is all I can feel as the message replays in my brain. The fucking threat!

“Treating my muffin, the way I should have a long, long time ago.” The way his smirk glows in the dim stinks of dark and depraved desire. And then he’s tying a blindfold on me, intensifying the already dead silence around us.

Oh no!... No! No! No!

There’s no way I’m losing my virginity to a stranger... Not to a perverted stalker... Not like this. I am not getting my first time like this. I’m so close... so close to the perfectly planned life I am supposed to fly off to.

“Please don’t do this to me... I am not the kind of woman you think I am. I’ve never touched a man. For god’s sake, please.” Tears roll down my cheeks while he lifts me up on his shoulder and takes me inside the bedroom.

He tosses me on the bed roughly, “The more you cry, the more regretful my actions will be... is that okay?” And I actually shut up or at least try to muffle it; because that’s the most logical thing to do.

“Good! That’s what I thought.” He says in a grave tone before ordering with an insane level of authority, “Now, Kneel!”

I keep muffling the sobs while getting up with my hands folded still whispering – begging to let me go.

“Please, spare me. I am supposed to get married by the end of the year. What will people call me when they find out I’m not a virgin? Don’t ruin me, please!”

“Ruining you is my duty... my honor. So, that’s entirely possible. But there’s the thing... they won’t find out. Because you won’t speak of it to anyone as long as I tell you not to. Is that clear?”

“Don’t do it, please –” The sob finally escapes and my voice cracks.

“Shut up and kneel before I fucking lose it!” He growls.

I try to silence myself for the sake of not pissing him off further. I’m in this shit already... Now the only thing I can protect is my sanity. Because my sanctity is about to be stolen... I know.

Placing myself in a kneeling position on the bed, I sense his scorching glare all over my body as he gasps for air. Such a psycho... He talks like a criminal while the sight of me turns him into a little boy having sex for the first time.

I wait... and wait... and wait... as he studies me for what seems like forever, breathing with difficulty the entire time, while I keep praying that – that’s all he was looking for.

“Spread those.” He orders tapping on my thighs with something sharp. I dare not imagine what he’s holding or I may not be able to hold back my screams.

“I can’t...” I spurt without thinking twice.

There’s silence for a good five six seconds when I realize it’s for me to explain.

“I’m – I’m... menstruating.” All the embarrassment I’ve ever faced in the entire twenty-six years of my life seems like nothing compared to what I am going through right now.

Another ten seconds of dead silence...

“I still want to see... Spread them open.”

Is he crazy? There’s nothing remotely sexy about this. Who the hell wants to see a bleeding pussy? I mean I’ve never even given a thought about it, let alone fantasize it in a sexual way.

“Spread it before I make you...” His knife is grazing on the skin of my thigh.

“Okay...” I nod hysterically, “Okay... I’ll do it.” I slowly spread my legs which in return makes way for blood to flood down my underwear, trickling to the sides of my inner thighs. God! this is so damn embarrassing; I would rather be dead right now. The sheet beneath me feels wet which means I’ve spilled myself. Fuck me!

A few moments of complete silence pass by again, and then suddenly I feel his towering presence near me. Taking in my scent like a predator does before pouncing on his prey. The next instant I feel his knife tearing under the strap of my nightgown and I realize that I don’t have a bra on and my useless underwear is soaked in blood.

My mind has started screaming May-day already. Down goes my nightie and whatever pride I had left in me.

After stripping me of every inch of clothing that I had on my body only moments ago, he goes back to I assume sitting on the dresser ottoman. He smells of a complete psychopath; I am getting tired of admitting this to myself when I know it won’t change a damn thing about the hideous situation, I have put myself in.

His erratic breathing is a telltale of the acute arousal he is having seeing me like this, and I’m sitting here shaking like a leaf under his scrutiny. The rhythmic clatter of his blade against the dresser is adding to the threat of his stare.

I am starting to believe, he’s just an obsessed boy wanting nothing but one hot night with the object of his obsession. Will he leave if I give that to him?

I find myself contemplating the thoughts that would be a taboo for me on a normal day. But I’m the drowning man right now, and that’s my only straw. And yes, I’ll hold on to it if it means I’ll get past this without being dead.

His voice cuts through the silence, “Touch yourself!” He orders.

“Excuse me?” Genuinely shock explicit in my words. Is he trying to watch live porno? Is he not going to touch me? Should I be relieved?

“Play with yourself...”

“What?”

“You heard it... Touch yourself. You do it quite often. Do it now!”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean play with yourself, Disha. The way you were enjoying yourself in the washroom for what? Two nights, maybe...”

Sweat beads form steadily on my temples as a sense of deep dread makes me sick to the stomach. So, that means... there’s cameras in the bath too?

Fuck!I had unknowingly determined my fate the day I gave in to my stupid horny brain. Running out of options, I bow my head in submission.

Biting my lip, I fight my restraints to find my way between my thighs. Spreading my legs a little more before letting my fingers slip in the bloody crevasse. My brain is fighting the urge to stop my fingers from invading the sensitive organ.

A low moan rises in my throat as my fingers work their way up and down the wetness, relinquishing every last bit of dignity from my body. I shut my lips tight to avoid the sounds of arousal from escaping my mouth, because that would be fucking disgusting.

The buildup of pleasure is so much more intense today, it’s like every single cell in my body is awake and needing a release. I’m so lost at this point in feeling myself that it is hard to remember the dangerous situation that I am in. The need to orgasm is escalating with every stroke.

“Now, imagine what would my dick feel like in place of your fingers; rubbing on your slick pussy, tasting your wetness before sliding its way inside your craving little hole. Don’t you dream of my dick finding its way inside your tight little mess?” He whispers with ragged breaths, “Don’t you want to be liberated of the burden of being the good little virgin that you are... Don’t you want to know how loud you can cry orgasming on my dick inside you?”

His whispery whimpers confirm the picture playing in my head. He’s stroking himself; up and down while I slide my fingers inside me.

And honestly... my brain isn’t even registering that; because I am too engrossed in the picture that I am painting inside my head to lessen the grossness of this situation.

“Yes... yes... I want you... I want you, Nakul –” The name slips out before I can get a hold of myself.

Heavy silence roars in the air, and yet my lungs feel empty. Fuck! I took his name.

Did you forget, this man has a knife. You’re dead.

One moment he is completely silent. The next his fingers wrap around my neck, choking me, forcing me down on the bed, getting rid of the blindfold.

“What did you say?” He hisses in my ear.

He’s a giant compared to me so the struggle to breathe under his weight is real. His hands are the exact size that can choke me without much trying; and I am fighting for air, slapping my bound fists on his gloved hands, trying to let my throat free from his grip.

“I – I’m sorry. It was a mistake... I didn’t mean to –” The only apology I can manage with the scarce amount of air left in my lungs, but then he doesn’t let me complete.

“Mistake? Oh yes it was a mistake. And now, you are going to pay for it with your pussy.”

“My neck... I – I – can’t – can’t breathe. You – you want me dead... then just – just kill me.” I hardly speak trying to secure a few gasps at a time.

I must be crazy but the chuckle before he growls in my ear is hot as fuck. I definitely need therapy.

“That won’t be your choice of word by the time I’m done with you. I’ll take you way beyond death and back, I promise... my sweet – sweet muffin.”

When he releases my throat, I gasp sharply because now I feel his blade graze my skin... From my inner thigh to the guilty organ in between. Stopping right there as he leans in and whispers, “And when I take you tonight, it will be engraved in your soul forever. I want you to know that I am marking you as mine. Everything you own will be mine. There never was and never will be another Master to you. And if you let anyone defy it, then you’ll have to watch how well I can skin, carve and shred another human being into unrecognizable pieces.”

Despite the sensuality of his breath on my ear, the warning comes loud and clear. I am his slave and he is my master; I want it or I don’t, that’s not even a question to him. And with the kind of dominance, his whiskey clad breath, his irrefutably arousing scent and those tempting promises, even in this situation I’m stuck in... Is it even a question to me?

Kissing the soft skin right below my ear, he releases my throat only to snatch away the blindfold so I’m face to face with his ghastly features. A soft light now radiates from the other end of the room and I realize that the lights must have been his work to begin with.

His smirk deepens as he speaks, “You’ve been avoiding looking at me muffin. That day at the club you kept your eyes shut the entire time. Do you think that pleases me?” His dagger hanging right over my navel, while his vision travels from my eyes to the dagger and back.

I shake my head. Agreement is nearly inevitable when looking into the devil’s eyes. Unless you want to be eaten alive. Which in my case, is inevitable too.

“You know what... you’ll learn to keep your eyes on me. I want you to watch me take you... Tonight, you’ll take every inch of me with your eyes locked into mine. Do you get it?”

I nod, suppressing the screams inside my head.

“Say it!” he shouts.

“Yes.” I squeak.

“Yes what?”

“Yes – Yes, Master!”

“Good girl!” He gives off the evilest grin, readjusting himself on me. Placing the dagger on my laptop, before taking off his matching black leather jacket and black tee without taking his eyes off of me.

My gaze keeps dropping from his eyes to the rest of him, and I can’t help but notice his enticingly chiseled body. Lean muscle packed in the entire frame like he must weight-train for fun; hard muscle on the arms cutting at the most alluring angles. And the forearms... those forearms definitely could peel human skin with his bare hands; shoulders broad enough to power that strength.

When I look up at him again, he’s already looking at me with those nearly white eyes, like he’s wearing a pair of contact lenses. The piercing gaze like he’s penetrating my soul first.

The weird feeling of sanity, virtuousness, and logic – all leaving my body at once. I’m captivated and paralyzed at the same fucking time.

The scorpion inked on his chest describes the man leaning over me, contemplating whether to sting or devour his prey.

But then his mouth crashes on mine with a force that causes my head to dive in the cushion beneath. He kisses in a way that sucks any remaining will to resist from me. Forcing his tongue inside my mouth, he continues to drink the life force out of me; drinking like a man dying of thirst.

Pulling himself back up, he pins my bound wrists above my head; then proceeds to unbuckle the belt biting into my flesh. By the time he’s done, my hands are rebound by the belt, only this time they are tied to the metal bars on the headboard.

Fuck! Now I can’t move.And then, he’s smiling at my shocked expression while I try to tug at the belt to no avail. The buckle is properly secured. The feeling of being stuck with this deceptively charming psychopath on top of a naked me, why is it turning me on? Have I lost it completely?

“How will you run away from me now, my sweet little muffin?” He gives the widest grin. I can’t help but notice his perfect white teeth. Shit! He’s a tease even with all the monstrosity. Even when a part of me is dying of the shame knowing this will follow an unwanted defloration.

He kisses me again, this time biting my lips like he did the first time we met. I bury my head back in the pillow as hard as I can, although all I can think of right now is how much I enjoyed last time as well. I might not be in the right mind to fucking kiss him back all while tears of shame make its way from the corner of my eyes down to the pillow.

My hormones are dominating me, not my rational mind.

As if picking up the pheromones, he deepens the kiss before unbuttoning and unzipping his leather pants. Something hot, heavy and dripping drops on my thighs and when I see it, all the remaining sense of self-preservation leaves my mind before I could even consider twice.

He is big. Longer than what I imagined dicks to be like. Thicker than what I imagined I could fit. And yet a part of me is ready to try... a demented part of my mind for which I take full accountability.

I know he will ruin me tonight, for everyone in the entire world. The problem is that I feel like I want to be ruined in this moment. Consider it my moment of weakness but I’ve never been in a better place.