Page 22 of Stalking Christmas

I don’t bother to respond and dispute her accusation, I am what she names me. Her petite body tries to twist on the bench, and it’s comical to watch as she attempts to contort herself, but ends up further exhausting herself and out of breath. Her legs squeeze closed, and I know she must be in pain, all of the adrenaline and euphoria having now faded. I tuck my spent cock away into my pants and leave the room, ensuring to lock the door behind me, as her swearing follows me from the space. She really does have a dirty potty mouth, and I’m going to have to cure her of that. I walk down the corridor to the door that leads to my bedroom. I move within the space without taking in any of the details until I reach my destination. For a moment, I grind to a halt; what the fuck am I doing right now? Am I about to run a bath for my captive?

The part of myself that I no longer recognize snarls back that she’s hurt and in pain, and reasons that we can’t continue to fuck her if she can’t take it. The part I do recognize counters that weshouldn’t care, that she’ll bleed a lot more before we’re done. I rip off the mask and stare at my features in the large mirror. The man who stares back at me is becoming a stranger, and I don’t like it one bit. Chrissy Cranbrook is changing me little by little, lessening the psychopath and making him feel. I don’t want the void inside of me filled by anything, especially not emotions that make me rethink my actions. I like myself unpredictable and unconquerable. Why is this one tiny, foul-mouthed woman changing me?

A frustrated growl leaves my lips, as I move towards the large copper bathtub I have in the space, turn on the water, and pour some bath salts inside of it. I’m not being weak or unreasonable; I argue with myself. I want to enjoy her for as long as possible, and although I relish listening to her screams, I would rather they be in pleasure rather than in pain, but at the end of the day, none of that will matter when I tire of her.

When the tub is nearly full, and the rich scent of lavender and eucalyptus fills the air, I re-don my mask and head back to my playroom to get her. At the door, I press my head against the wood surface and listen, as her heavy sobs make their way through the surface.Fuck, how bad could I have hurt her? Has she never been fisted before?Based on her porn history, I find that highly unlikely. I enter the room, and the sight causes my chest to tighten. She’s managed to twist her lower body on the bench until she’s on her side, and her knees are drawn up against her chest. Her arms are still outstretched above her and restrained in my leather cuffs, and her face is all red from the strain and her crying.Dammit all to hell.

I lean down and press my masked face against her hair, not really sure how to comfort her. “My sweet temptation, are you alright? What is causing you to cry like this?” My voice is gruff and accusatory through the mask, and she flinches and tries to make herself smaller. I move over to my wall and grab a pairof metal handcuffs from a hook, moving back and securing one wrist in its metal band, before releasing it from the leather cuff, and repeating it with her other wrist. She doesn’t even attempt to fight me; her arms go limp in my grasp, as she uses her fallen hair to hide herself from me. I push it away from her face, and stare into her dark brown eyes, filled with misery, before wrapping my arms around her and lifting her bridal style in my grasp. “Tell me, or I’ll punish you,” I demand as I move towards the door.

Her head leans against my shoulder as soft sobs wrack her body, and I tighten my grip on her delicate flesh. She feels right in my arms, as if this is where she has always belonged. The thought rips through me, and where fear should be present at such a vulnerable emotion, I only feel certainty. I press my masked nose against her hair, wishing I didn’t have anything between us. “I... I’ll never see Toothless again... he’ll think I abandoned... him. You... left my baby... without his momma... at Christmas.”

Toothless? Baby?What the fuck, she’s balling her eyes out over that slobbering beast? I release a frustrated groan against her hair, as I make my way through my bedroom and into my bathroom. All the while, more tears slide down her face, and her skin pebbles from the cool air. I force her to slide down my body until she’s on unsteady feet, and I hold her by her elbow. “Don’t try to fight me or escape, temptation. I don’t want to hurt you further today.” I release my hold and grab my blade from my pocket, slicing down the front of the wet shirt and cutting it off her body.

Her pink nipples stand at attention, causing my mouth to salivate with the need to lick and suck them. I’m just about to say fuck it, and to do just that, when she flinches and tightens her legs, bouncing a little on the spot. “What’s the matter with you?” I question, perplexed.

A flush of pink crosses her cheeks and neck, and a groan escapes her pouty lips. “I have to pee, asshole, and you have my arms tied up.”Pee?A chuckle sounds in the air, and I realize with shock that it’s coming from me. I grab her by the elbow and lead her to the toilet, forcing her to sit down against her mumbled protests. I stare intently at her, waiting for her to do her business, but instead, only silence greets me, and she bows her head, hiding her features from me. “I can’t go if you’re staring at me, creeper,” she hisses.

I roll my eyes and turn away, but still keep her in my sight through the reflection in the mirror. When she’s done peeing, I turn back around and grab some toilet paper, ready to clean her, and she starts screaming at me like a banshee. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! You’re not doing that to me! Oh my God, what is the matter with you!”

I lean down until I’m right in front of her, my amusement rising with her antics. “Little temptation, I just licked your ass clean not twenty minutes ago, you think a little pee is going to deter me?” I don’t wait for her outraged response. I grab her shoulder, forcing her to lean forward, and wipe her clean. “You’re an asshole!”

“If you don’t quit yelling, I’m going to shove my cock back inside of your asshole without lube, then we’ll see if you think wiping your pussy is the worst of my sins,” I grunt, as I lift her in my arms carefully and carry her to the bathtub, and place her inside. A cooing sound leaves her lips as she leans against the copper surface, and sinks below the water, until only her face is exposed. My eyes take her in, as she closes her eyes and relaxes in the hot water, even though a predator stands next to her.

“Will you ever let me go?” she asks in a small voice, her eyes remaining shut and refusing to look at me. A part of me wants to lie to her, leading her to believe that there is a possibility she will get her life back. I want her to fight, thinking she can survive me,but I also don’t want to give her false hope. “You will never leave me, not alive, temptation. Whatever world you knew before me is gone to you now.”

She nods her head but remains silent, and a pang of pain hits me in my chest as I watch more of her tears slide down her intriguing face, and disappear into the water. Something about her silent acceptance doesn’t make me feel like I’ve won anything. Instead, all I experience is a great loss. How can that be when I have my temptation here as my captive, and she’s mine now? I have no answers, and as the silence thickens between us, for the first time in my life, I discern that I have truly wronged someone.

Chapter 28

The Gift

I’m back in my original room after that bizarre interaction with my stalker. He allowed me to sit in the stunning copper tub, until the water had cooled and all my muscles were jello. Other than the question that I asked him about letting me go, we spoke very little; he just mumbled words that meant nothing to me, and offered me no further insight into who he is. He handed me a bar of soap, and I washed myself under his scrutinizing gaze while still cuffed. When I was done, he lifted me carefully and gently out of the tub, and proceeded to dry me with a thick, fluffy towel, like one does a small child. I wanted to argue that I coulddo it myself, if he released my arms from the cuffs, but I was exhausted, and all the fight had left me. All I craved at that point was my own company, to be alone with my confused thoughts and fears.

Now, hours later, I’m lying on my back in the darkened room, going over everything that has happened so far, and what I know of my masked captor. I wrack my brain for answers on where I might know him from. Something about him seems very familiar to me. I don’t know if it’s the way he holds himself, his muffled voice, or the only parts of him that I have been able to see, his hands, eyes, and cock. I definitely don’t know him by his cock; that thing is enormous and filled with metal, and I would undoubtedly have remembered if I had seen it before. Not that I’ve seen very many in my twenty-seven years, but one like that, yeah, you’re not likely to forget. Maybe it’s his eyes, they too are as distinct as his cock. There are not too many men walking around with stunning gray eyes. In fact, I can’t quite place the last time I saw one.

This is hopeless; I doubt if I just asked him outright to remove the stupid mask, he would do it. I’m trapped in this room, in a house I don’t know, far from the city I live in, with a psycho who has drugged and abducted me. The question I keep coming back to is, why me? There is nothing special about me. How did I get this madman’s attention in the first place?

The door to the room opens without warning, allowing a sliver of light into the space before closing again firmly, and the soft footsteps across the carpet make his presence known. He stands next to the bed, a dark, ominous shadow, and instead of feeling fear, I feel relief at his presence. That alone should confirm that I’m losing my ever-loving mind. Is this Stockholm Syndrome, where I’m feeling affection for my kidnapper and abuser? I need to get my shit together and fight back against this monster, so I can regain my freedom, but right now, I’m so tired.

“I brought you some pain meds, and I want you to answer a few of my questions honestly.” I snort at his request; how very entitled of him. “I have nothing to say to you. You want to drug me again, asshole? No thanks, I’d rather not take anything you’re offering.” A growl greets the silent and subdued room, and I bite down on my lip and tense my body, awaiting his violence at my rejection.

“I’d rather not have to drug you, temptation, but I don’t want you to be in pain.” His voice is so deep and low that I almost don’t catch the last part of his statement. I turn over and stare at his large frame in the diminished light. He’s got to be over six feet, which puts me at a severe height disadvantage. The old saying,‘The bigger they are, the harder they fall’,obviously that twat never had to fight a man-bear like this one. “Everything you do causes me pain. You stole me from my life and my family; that’s nothing but pain.”

A sigh is his only response as I feel the bed dip at my side, and I wrap my arms tighter around myself, and try to inch my body farther away from him. “Don’t run from me, I don’t like it.”Run?I would be lucky to make it two feet before he was on me. I know there is little to no chance of me escaping this room, and his clutches. Hopelessness fills me, knowing that what he told me is true; I will never leave here alive. “How many women have you abducted and kept captive?” I hold my breath, waiting for the answer that I’m sure will cement my future, or his refusal to answer, that will cause me further anxiety. Either way, it seems I lose.

“None. You’re the first I’ve ever abducted andkept.“ I roll my disbelieving eyes at his statement and search him out, and I find him rubbing his hand against his mask-covered jaw. A memory pops into my mind of earlier when I was tied down, and he was eating me out; I’m positive I saw dark and silver scruff on his lower face, and I know I absolutely felt it against mysensitive skin. He can’t be young then if he has gray hairs in his beard, despite his fit physique. Maybe he’s middle-aged? “I don’t believe you. You have definitely done this before.” I don’t bother to hide my accusatory tone; what would be the point? What’s he going to do, kill me faster?

It’s his turn to snort, and I feel his fingers trailing up the outside of my leg above the sheet. The sensation causes shivers to pulsate across my body, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stifle any of my sounds, and force myself not to pull away. I need answers, and right now, he seems willing to give them to me. “I didn’t say I hadn’t kidnapped people before, just that I hadn’t kept them. I’ve never felt the need to hold on to my victims until you.”

“So you’ve killed people before…women?How many have died at your hands?“ I push the words out despite the trepidation that is filling me. My brain is yelling that we don’t want that answer.

“Are you sure you really want to know, sweet temptation? Once you do, there is no going back from that; you will know exactly what kind of monster you’re dealing with.” His voice is solemn, and for a moment, I pity him. Is he lonely? He seems as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders. “Yes,” the word leaves my lips in a breathy whisper, as I face my fears head-on.

“I’ve murdered thirty-three people, men and women.” I scramble from the mattress, and tumble to the floor on the other side of the bed frame, with my heart hammering in my throat.Oh my God, he’s a serial killer!He doesn’t attempt to grab me, in fact, he doesn’t move at all, as he watches me panic.

“You’re a... “ I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence, as terror rides me hard and fast, and I see my death before my eyes. He’s not just some lonely psychopath, who has a hard time approaching women, or enjoys playing out some sick fetish. Thisman is a killer, and he obviously enjoys what he does; why else would he have murdered thirty-three people?

“Serial killer?” He shrugs his broad shoulders as if that term means very little. “I guess I am, but I prefer not to have terms like that define me.” He slides a small bottle of water, and two pills, across the top of the rumpled sheets towards me. “Take the meds, and I’ll grant you a few more answers, sweet temptation. They’re just over-the-counter painkillers, nothing that will sedate you.”

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