Page 15 of Stranger Session

ItsVenti:You’re into CNC?

Whorista:What’s that?

ItsVenti:Consensual non-consent. You give all the consent to me beforehand, and I do whatever I want to your body. Up to your hard limits, of course. If I catch you, I fuck you until you can’t stand, even if you beg me to stop.

She throws her head back and releases a feral moan as she rubs her clit. I had no clue the sweet girl on my lap for photos would be in a chatroom like this. That she’d be intosomething like this. I mean, she was into my dominance and jealous possession of her body. It’s not that far of a leap to assume she might want to be fucked like she was a “thing” to use.

Whorista:I want that. So fucking bad.

I pull out my cock and stroke the heat of my length. I ache for her. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.

ItsVenti:Praise or degradation?

Whorista:I don’t know.

ItsVenti:Do you like being a good girl? Or a whore?

Her lips tighten at the question, and the movement between her legs stops. Have I pushed her too far?

Whorista:Can’t I be both?

ItsVenti:You can be anything you want with me.

Whorista:When and where?

We come nearly in unison. Her trembling wanes just as mine begins. I stroke harder and faster. Come spills down my hand as she pulls her come-soaked fingers from between her legs. It could be my hand.

Itwillbe mine.

And so will she.

Chapter Twelve

Mariah

Crickets chirp around me, though it’s not even nighttime yet. They’re pre-gaming, I think. The sun eases below the horizon, but there’s still a little daylight left. Fall air nips at my skin, and I clutch my jacket closer to my body. The further I walk into the woods, the more I wonder if I’m doing the right thing.

I literally seduced a random stranger on the internet and told him I wanted to be hunted through the woods like an animal. What the fuck am I doing?

At least we have a safe word—pumpkin—if anything becomes too much for me. But do I even know what is too much for me? I feel like I won’t know until the line is crossed, but I guess that’s what a safe word is for.

I look around. The trees grow in thick clumps in this part of the woods, and I worry he won’t be able to find me. We didn’t exactly exchange contact information. Hell, we didn’t even share our names. He wants me to call him “nightmare,” and he’ll be wearing a mask.He could be anyone beneath that mask. And by doing this, I’m willing to letanyoneinside me.

What the fuck am I doing? I get a little bit of a stalker and suddenly I want to give myself away to the first person I meet on the internet? All because I kind of like how being stalked makes me feel between my legs?

The fear morphs into some strange arousal that I can’t control. When Del got all possessive of me, it went right to my pussy, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I’ll just imagine this masked man is him. I might not feel as nuts if it’s someone I know. But I might not enjoy it as much if it is.

I can’t help but wonder what he’s been up to since the photo shoot. Does he ever think of me, or, like the photos, was our meeting just a forgotten snapshot in time?

Wind kicks up, whipping my hair around and lifting my skirt. I hold the fabric against my legs. My thighs are cold, but my boots keep me warm. I worry I’ll get lost if I venture too much further into the woods, so I stop by a large pine tree and wait.

An ominous whistle comes from somewhere behind me, and it’s not the wind. “Run, little whore!” a deep, menacing voice shouts. “Run! Because when I catch you, I’m going to fuck you!”

The words rush to my ears and travel toward my lower belly, where they slowly meld with the growing warmth between my legs. I kick off the soft ground and start running. How did he find me so fast?

I pick up my pace through the woods, squeezing through trees along a path of my own making. Heavy footfalls follow my every move, granting me the fear I’ve been chasing. Even though I set this up, even though I consented to all of it, my body doesn’t seem to understand the lack ofrisk. My brain knows we’re okay, but my body reacts in a panic.

Run, escape, and avoid getting fucked, no matter how much you want to be fucked. That’s what my body screams to my brain.

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