Chapter 5 #3
“We should dust for prints,” the female officer says. “There’s a chance the suspect will match someone on file.”
The male officer checks his watch in a pointed kind of way. “We’ve got other calls coming in,” he says. “We can follow up with forensics if they have time.”
The police are stretched so thin they do not have the time to follow up on some alleged attacker.
I have no idea where he is. I don’t know where Dave is.
I kind of want the cops to leave now so I can get my head around this without sounding crazy.
That stack of three hundred hundred-dollar bills is starting to feel like it is burning through my bag.
“We’ll send someone in the morning,” the female officer says. “If they have time.”
“Right,” I say. “If they have time. Okay. Thank you, bye now.”
I close the door behind them and breathe a sigh of relief that lasts exactly one breath before I get all tight again. I look around my kitchen, not really recognizing it. It’s mine, but it doesn’t feel like mine anymore.
“What the fuck?” I breathe the question to myself, not expecting to be answered.
“That could have been unpleasant,” a deep voice says, as the suit-clad man who is absolutely fucking up my life appears from the bedroom, where apparently the police missed him entirely. So much for a search of the location.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I squeal, jumping in place. “Where’s Dave?”
“Dave decided to leave. I tidied up a bit in his absence,” my stalker says. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“You made the cops think I was crazy.”
“So sorry. Do you want to call them back and try to turn me in?”
He’s mocking me. It’s gentle, but it’s there. He’s got so much nerve for a man who constantly wears a mask.
“Try to turn you in? You break into my house and have your way with me. You’re a…”
My voice trails off as he closes the distance between us in three confident strides.
“We have a few matters to continue with,” he says, his voice lowering and his tone softening. I feel my stomach drop and fill with butterflies. Surely he’s not going to…
The sound of the chair being pulled out next to the table tells me that yes, he’s planning on picking up right where he left off.
“No,” I say, stepping away. “I’m tired of this. You have to tell me who you are and why you’re doing all of this. It’s creepy and it’s wrong.”
“I’m doing this because I want to,” he says. “Because you’re mine, Laura.”
“If I’m yours, then you should be able to show me your face. What’s the deal, weirdo? Do I know you?”
“You’re getting feisty,” he says, his tone getting a little drier. “Let me teach you why that’s not a good idea.”
The world spins as I find myself over his broad and powerful lap again.
He must have mopped the kitchen floor, because it’s cleaner than it was when I was last this close to it.
It gleams and smells of lemon-scented sanitation.
I have a brief flash of blood being all over the floor.
How is it possible that two men had a full brawl here not an hour ago and the place looks spotless?
“How did you clean up this fast?”
“I do not work alone,” he says in a low tone that sends a shiver down my spine. I’ve seen TV shows about people who have cleaning crews, people who do so much bloody crime that they pay specialists who can get blood and stuff up and destroy evidence.
He’s even managed to replace the chair he hit Dave with. What the actual fuck is going on. Who the hell is this man? Where does he get all this money? How has he got all these people just…
“Ow!” I yelp as he starts spanking me again with hard, firm slaps that make me twist and writhe in pain. He starts with an absolute barrage that feels designed to drive all thoughts from my head. It is absolutely successful. I can’t think about anything besides how much my ass hurts.
“I give you a car and you sell it?” His big hand spanks me again. “Very rude.”
He still doesn’t sound that angry about this whole thing. I think he’s enjoying what I did on some weird level.
“I don’t have any use for a car! Also, you’re a creepy fucking stalker rapist, so I don’t think you get to take offense.”
I feel him get tense for a moment, and I wonder if I haven’t gone too far. He’s obviously unhinged. A man like him might do anything if I make him mad. He’s willing to break into my home, to take me against my will.
He laughs.
“Silly girl,” he says, rubbing my ass almost affectionately before smacking it hard enough to make it sting like hell again. “You’re going to pay for this. Every dollar. Fifty thousand of them.”
He smacks me hard and long, until my ass feels like it is swollen and volcanically hot.
“That was fifty,” he says. “Imagine how many more you have coming.”
“You’re sick,” I complain.
“I am many things,” he says. “That’s true. But so are you, and you know you deserve this. I’m not going to take the money from you. You can keep it and do what you want with it.”
“You’re going to let me keep thirty grand?”
“I am. But I am also going to make you pay for it.”
He picks up a wooden spoon from the counter and starts to use it on me. The shock of being spanked with that makes me squeal out like an animal. The wood after his hand feels particularly sharp and harsh. When he is done with me, I am going to be absolutely unable to sit down
“It’s time you understand that your life as you once knew it is over. I own you now, Laura. I will let you have a few freedoms, because I am unable to reveal my identity at this moment, but believe me, you are well and truly owned. I suggest you start acting like it.”
“What does that even mean?” I gasp the question as he whacks the spoon across my cheeks again, giving me two sharp, harsh slaps on each side.
“It means speaking with respect.”
“What did you do to Dave?” I am almost scared to ask the question. I have a horrible feeling deep in my belly that Dave is not okay anymore. “Is he still alive?”
“What was he doing here, Laura?” The question holds no overt judgment, but I know it’s dangerous.
“He probably just wanted a place to crash. He’s kind of a loser and he relies on me to help him out when he fucks up his life.”
“And you allow this?”
“No. I told him not to come, but he never listens to me.”
“That was a mistake,” my stalker says, rubbing his hand softly over my ass. “Don’t worry about Dave,” he says. “He will not be bothering you anymore.”
“He didn’t deserve to die,” I whimper.
“You should worry more about yourself, and less about a man who wields a weapon sloppily,” my stalker says. I wish I knew his name.
He spanks that thought out of my head, starting over again. This might have begun as a punishment, but right now it feels more like he is trying to brand my fucking ass.
“Next time I give you a gift, you accept it gratefully,” he lectures.
“I could never have afforded the gas, let alone the insurance on a thing like that,” I argue.
“I would have paid for both.”
“Why? Why do you give a fuck about me? What’s wrong with you? I’m nobody.”
“Oh, Laura,” he says. “You’re not nobody. Far from it.” He smooths his hand over my ass, then smacks it hard enough to make me yelp again.
“That’s not an answer!”
“You’re not ready for answers. For the moment, you need to just be a good girl for me.”
I reach up and try to grab his balaclava off, but he grabs my wrist and pins it behind my back while landing a whole new series of slaps on my already aching ass.
“Stop!”
“Not until you submit,” he growls. “I’m getting far too much attitude from you.”
I stop talking at that point. It’s not doing me any favors. He has all the power, all the knowledge, and most all the money. I still have thirty grand. Maybe I’ll use it to hire a private investigator. Not my dumbest idea.
Long, powerful fingers clench in my hair as my head is pulled up.
“I can hear those thoughts,” he purrs softly. I know he can’t possibly mean that literally, but in this moment it really feels like he might. “I know you haven’t truly submitted to me.”
“How am I supposed to submit to you when you’re a stranger who seems to be a heinous criminal?”
So much for keeping quiet. He chuckles and stands up, lifting me with him. I find myself tucked under his arm almost as if I weigh nothing. I have seen people struggle with sacks of potatoes more than this guy has trouble picking me up.
He carries me to the bedroom, where he puts me down on hands and knees and proceeds to strip my clothes off me in that very practical way he has. His palms grip my hips for a long, slow moment before he pulls my underwear all the way down my legs and discards it.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathes, standing over me as I crouch in this animal position.
His voice is full of true admiration. I’ve had previous partners who never seemed as impressed with me as this man does.
“Look at you. Look at the curve of this sweet ass…” He runs his palm over my still aching cheeks.
“Spanking you is a pleasure,” he growls. “You were absolutely made for it. That might be why you are so infuriating. You know you deserve it.”
I let him say whatever he wants to say, and I let him touch me. My body has responded to the stimulation of the spanking again, from being touched and held and carried around. Whoever this man is, he triggers some intensely base impulses in me.
His big hands take me by the thighs and spread them.
I hear the sound of his zipper going down, and there is a moment of anticipation in which I know he is about to fuck me.
It feels like time slows almost all the way to a halt as I wait to feel the thick head of his cock pressing inside me again.
He doesn’t use protection, because nothing will protect me from him.
It takes longer than I thought it would. He has one hand resting lightly on my hip, keeping me in place but not with a very tight grip. He expects me to stay in place and take my fucking.
“Are you ready?” He growls the question.