Chapter 3 #2
I get the feeling he’s toying with me, testing my reactions. Too bad for me, it works. There’s a flush of pleasure and happiness at his kind words. I feel a warmth running through me that makes me feel like I’m doing well, even though I am on my knees in a bathroom stall having my mouth fucked.
“Your mouth and your pussy are both absolutely delicious,” he says. “I can’t wait to take your last little hole, but I will train that first. It will be a conquest I thoroughly enjoy.”
My pussy throbs in response to those filthy words. I’ve never agreed to anal before. With him, it won’t matter. He’s going to make my ass his own, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
He guides me up, grips me by the thighs, and lifts me up against the wall, sliding his cock back inside me. He is showing me just how easily he handles me.
“I am going to use you over and over,” he growls in my ear. “This pussy of yours belongs to me and no other man will ever see it again, let alone touch it. I am claiming this hole for my use, and my use alone, do you understand?”
“Yessir,” I whimper. He is grinding right up against my clit, and he is using every bit of my pussy for his pleasure. I am sure he is going to come inside me again very soon, and I am equally certain I could not stop him if I wanted to.
He fucks me harder now, rougher, deeper. The sound of the stall wall squeaking must be audible outside the bathroom, but he doesn’t care. He wants to fuck me, and that means I am getting fucked.
I come. It sneaks up on me as almost a surprise as I start to contort with pleasure that only comes from being claimed by this predator.
“Oh, yes,” he purrs. “Fuck yes, baby. You’re going to take this cock nice and deep, aren’t you.
You’re going to take every fucking drop of cum I have too, aren’t you. ”
My orgasm is intense, and it triggers his.
For one very brief moment I am in total control as my body makes his respond.
He comes inside me while my pussy clenches his cock, forcing him to give me his seed.
In that moment, it feels like he’s not in control of me anymore.
It feels like we’re both wrapped up in something stronger than either one of us.
We are doing a dance that was decreed millennia ago.
Our bodies know what to do, and they do it.
And then it is over, and we are two strangers in a bathroom stall. I am a student who is engaging in some wild misconduct and he is the man who hunts me.
I hear his zip going up as he puts himself away.
“Good girl,” he says, patting my ass. “I will see you later.”
Just like that, he’s gone, leaving me full of his cum yet again, aching and wondering what the hell I just did. I knew what would happen if I went into this bathroom, and what happened was exactly what I imagined.
Last night he hunted me, but today I came to him, choosing to let him use me again. I don’t know who he is. I don’t know what he really wants from me besides this rough sex that is already starting to feel like it’s not the deeper point.
I compose myself and leave the bathroom. The corner of the library that was mostly empty before has a lot more people in it now. The table I was studying at alone has a few more books spread out on it. I look around, wondering if any of these students is my masked lover.
A few people glance at me, but there’s no recognition in their eyes.
I have to be aware that whoever is stalking me is probably psycho enough not to show that they know me.
Psycho isn’t the word for it. My psych lecturer wouldn’t approve of it.
He’d call it some kind of antisocial personality disorder, but that really doesn’t have the same kind of ring to it.
Speaking of ring, my phone rings, and I am taken out of the moment. I grab my stuff quickly and answer it. I don’t dare let it ring. If she doesn’t hear from me right now, she’ll start worrying, and once she starts worrying, calming her down is a whole thing.
“Hey, Mom,” I say in a low voice, rushing from the library. “I’m just in the library.”
“Laura! Your brother needs you to pick him up from school. He’s in trouble again. I can’t get away from the store right now, but if we don’t get him…”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” I say, before she starts spiraling. She always thinks they’re going to call the police. “I can go get him now. I’m fifteen minutes away.”
I’m glad for the distraction. It’s good to return to real life. It’s nice to be reminded that I am a real person with real responsibilities, not just a random fuck toy for the use of a man I do not know.
I catch the bus over to my brother’s school, which is not too far away from the campus.
It’s his third school in as many years, and that’s why Mom keeps freaking out.
She thinks he’s going to be expelled again.
Jake has been kicked out of three schools so far.
We’re running out of places to be able to send him.
Jake is twelve years old, and named after my grandfather.
He has some issues. They’re not his fault.
He’s doing his best, but there’s no understanding for him out in the world, and quite often at home as well.
He got identified as a problem early on, for being the only boy in a family full of girls.
He’s very angry. He stuffs his bag into the footwell of the bus seat, punching it when it won’t immediately fit in.
“I hate school,” he says, looking at me with furious eyes. “They’re all assholes.”
“What happened?”
“Tom and Drain jumped me in the bathroom. I fought back. Then they suspended me. Fucking me.”
“That’s not fair, buddy. I’m sorry.”
I look in at the school and think about going in there and talking to someone. Jake has always been bullied. First because of his red hair, then because of his unique way of seeing the world.
I really hate the fact that I am watching the joy slowly leave his eyes. He used to be so happy. Now he’s approaching thirteen years old and he’s angry more often than not. He deserves to be happy.
“Want some ice cream?”
“Yeah,” he says. A few months ago, that question would have sent him into a frenzy of excitement. Now he says it kind of flatly.
“What about some pizza?”
“From where?” He asks the question suspiciously.
“Luigi’s?”
“Right answer,” he grins.
We ride the bus to the shops where there’s a Luigi’s and an ice cream parlor. I treat him to a slice and some ice cream and as he eats he starts to feel better.
“Why do they bully me?”
There are so many possible responses to that question.
I could tell him that they’re probably just sad inside, but studies have largely disproved that theory.
It occurs to me that so much of my life has been spent making excuses for bad people doing bad things, and I’m not going to do that to my brother.
“Because they’re little pieces of shit and someone should throw them in the river.”
He snorts into his soda hard enough to make it splash up. That makes him laugh outright, and in that moment he’s my little brother as I remember him.
“I’m sorry you’re having a bad time,” I tell him. “But bad times don’t last forever. I’ll talk to Mom about…”
“About what?” he says. “She’s busy all the time and she can’t do anything. She’s going to be mad at me for this.”
“She won’t be. I’ll talk to her.”
“I wish she listened to me. She only listens to you.”
Mom’s been busy. She has five-year-old twins now, Bracken and Eternity, then there’s Sasha, she’s eight, Jake, twelve, Eva who is sixteen, and Serenity who is eighteen. Being the eldest of seven is hard sometimes, but I like helping out where I can.
My dad left when I was two. Serenity and Eva have the same dad, and they visit him from time to time.
Jake’s dad is a different guy I never even met.
Sasha, Bracken, and Eternity are all from the man who would be my stepfather if I wasn’t too old to need a daddy, and if he were ever home.
John is fine as far as Mom’s boyfriends go.
He drives trucks long distance interstate and sometimes isn’t home for weeks at a time.
“When you get older, you’ll realize that’s kind of a blessing,” I tell him. “But you can always come visit me if you need some time away from it all. Just make sure to let Mom know, okay?”
“I’m going to get kicked out of school again, aren’t I?” he says miserably.
“No,” I tell him. “You’re not. Because those kids are going to stop bullying you.”
“How? Every school I go to, someone picks on me.”
I feel so bad for him. Jake just wants to fit in, and there’s always some shitty little asshole willing to take advantage of that. He’s smart, he’s sensitive, and he’s struggling for so many reasons.
“I know,” I say. “I’m going to try to help. What were their names, again?”
I get their names. I don’t know what I’m going to do with them, but it feels like a good thing to at least have the information. Maybe I can talk to the parents.
I ride on the bus with Jake back to our neighborhood, trying to talk to him about happier things while knowing he’s still not very happy at all.
The twins are dismantling something on the front lawn. I don’t know what, and I don’t stop to check. It looks like a toy of some kind. Their father likes to send gifts back for them while he’s on the road, and they like to rip them apart, little animals like they are.
Mom is doing the dishes with a harried annoyance.
“Hey, Mom,” I say. “I got Jake from school.”
“You can’t keep getting kicked out of schools, Jake!” she says, turning around with her hands covered in suds.
“He didn’t do anything wrong,” I say.
“Go and do your homework,” she says. Jake escapes out of the room as quick as he can. Sasha is at the kitchen table doing her homework. She’s a quiet kid, and I know she’s going to be okay because she’s more focused on work and things than half the adults I know.
“Thanks for getting him,” Mom says. “Do you want to stay for dinner? We’re having mac and cheese.”
“Oh, yes, please,” I say, taking a seat at the kitchen table. Sasha looks up at me, slightly annoyed at the interruption.
“What are you working on?” I ask.
“Homework,” she responds, her tone short and clipped, like a businesswoman. “I’m going to go do it in my room.”
I watch as she stiffly packs up her books and moves to a more productive location.
“She’s sweet really,” Mom says. “She just expresses it differently.”
The three youngest of my siblings are all pretty divergent in the way they behave. None of them have a diagnosis, but it’s kind of obvious. I know Sasha’s pleased to see me really. It’s just that I’ve interrupted homework time, and that is not allowed.
I take the chance to clear the table and set it. The mac and cheese is already in the oven. I can smell it. It’s delicious. Mom likes to cook the onion first and get it all brown and kind of sweet before she adds it. There will be little chunks of ham too. That’s how Mom always makes it.
“Can you get the twins?”
I go back outside. Bracken and Eternity have stripped a toy car for parts and are hitting each other with hollow plastic bits. They’re wearing matching floral dresses that were probably cute when they went on, but now have been through enough to need a full decontamination.
“Come and wash your hands,” I call out. “Dinner’s ready!”
The twins look at me. Bracken bites Eternity. Eternity kicks Bracken in the leg.
“Come and wash your hands. Now!” I put a little more bass in my tone.
The twins don’t listen. They’re spoiled as hell.
Their dad feels guilty for being away so much and he never says no to them in any way, and Mom has reached the stage of motherhood where she doesn’t fight battles she doesn’t have to.
Which is why Bracken is now reaching for a branch to hit Eternity with.
“Alright, dinnertime,” I tell them, swinging Bracken up into my arms.
Mom really needs help every day, but it’s hard for me to give it when I have work and school to attend to. Today, though, I’m glad to get immersed in some simple domestic chores.
I stay for dinner, I help the kids with their homework, and I wash up, and when my mom asks me if I want to just sleep over on the couch I consider it for a second.
Then I think about the man who has clearly been following me, and something in my stomach tightens.
What if he followed me here? I have to get out of the house before the end of the night.
I can’t stop him from getting me, but he cannot have any access to my family.
“I’ve got to go,” I tell her. “Lock up good, okay? There’s reports of prowlers lately.”
She’s half asleep already after a long day, so I go around, check all the windows, then let myself out of the house and walk to the bus station.
I have to assume that the stalker who is hunting me wants me and only me, but the prospect of anybody else being hurt suddenly terrifies me. What if he’s dangerous in other ways?
I go home, I lock the door, and I wonder if I should bar it.
He keeps coming and fucking me, and there’s nothing I seem to be able to do to stop it, either in terms of practical solutions, or even in my own resolution not to be sexually used by a masked stranger.
I’ve let him do it twice. The second time, I delivered myself to him.
What the hell am I doing? Why did I fuck him that second time?
Because it was hot.
Very hot. And because it felt like it had no consequences, like I was completely out of the normal realm of life where I have to be so sensible and so responsible all the time.
A random stranger breaking into my house and demanding I fuck him was very possibly the only way I was going to get laid.
After Dave, I don’t have the desire to date. Not even a little bit.
But he doesn’t come.
I lie awake for what feels like hours until I fall asleep, and in the morning, I am almost surprised to wake up without having had a nocturnal visitor.
The next night is the same, and so is the one after that. I start to think that whoever it was got what he wanted here and in the library, and moved on to fuck someone else.
Great. I’ve been rejected by a sex stalker. And I can’t even be sad about it because obviously I should never have wanted to be fucked by a sex stalker anyway.