10 comments/ 24694 views/ 12 favorites Taking Control in the Park By: ZardozSays I had seen her go out for a run from the vantage point of my window many times. Because I work from home, I have always had a habit of working in front of the main window. My work often gets boring and I am easily distracted by events in my line of vision. I have acquired a habit of noticing the patterns of people's activities during the day. It becomes as familiar as the clock after a while. Some events though are more interesting than others. There was this one woman that I started to notice. She ran by my window most days and because I am almost at street level I would always get a very good look. She had a very beautiful face with little make-up which seemed so natural and feminine that I always found my myself wanting to follow her with my gaze. I couldn't help noticing her body. It was so slender and petite. I always liked to watch as she passed by with her nicely toned legs and sweet little ass that was so evident in her running shorts. She never saw me staring at her and its a good thing too. If she had started noticing, it might have spoiled the plans I would make later. She was rather predictable and had a certain time of day that she would normally run. I could often predict when she would appear on certain days - but not always. One day it occurred to me there was no reason not to get a closer look. It was the sort of idea I never had before. It seemed so predatory in its formulation. As if it was only natural that if I saw something I liked and I should go after it. It was as if there were two parts of me, and there was a new part that was introducing itself and was now making demands. I felt inclined to listen. So, the next time I saw her out for her run, I quickly slipped out the door and followed along. The first time I did it, I kept thinking I must not to be too obvious about following her. I aimed to stay just close enough to be able to watch her sexy body run. It was a fine idea and it was going well and to my satisfaction until we entered the park. Something about all the trees did something to me I can't explain. As I followed her, I realized it really turned me on to think that I was actually chasing her, and that she was trying to run away from me. It seemed to bring something out in me I had never felt before. It was a real animal lust that was pure and unadulterated. My other side was in complete control. The more I let myself pursue this idea, the closer I found myself running behind her, until I was dangerously close. The closer I got, the stronger I felt lust course through me. I felt like a pent up charge of electricity that was looking to ground itself out and would do so if it made contact with something - or someone. I thought at one point she would certainly hear my heart beating if not my footfalls. But then I realized that she couldn't hear anything. She had some headphones on with the music blasting and was in her own little world. How had I not noticed this before? Looking in the wrong places I supposed, although her hair did conceal them fairly well. It gave me the seed of a wicked idea that I knew would be nurtured and allowed to take shape. The realization broke my reverie. I let my pace slacken and I slowed to a stop and eventually just stood there staring at my feet. Could I really do this? A voice in my head said "oh we are so doing this". I followed her a few more times after that from a very safe distance and discovered that the route she ran didn't vary much. It always took her down the same streets towards the park, then through the park to the far end, and then looping back to return to the same streets that brought her back home. I took a slow and deliberate walk around the route and considered the lay of the land. I saw some home construction sites up and down that route. That was promising. However the proximity to other houses made it very risky. Any commotion at all and there would be lots of attention and possible witnesses. I had to rule it out. The park itself held more promise. There were some areas along the running trail where there were some rather large trees that had very long branches. I found one in particular that was near a bend in the path but not too close, about 30 feet off. It looked rather hollowed out on the inside but with a good canopy around it. Kids had obviously been using it as a little hiding place and I thought maybe I could too. There was just enough room to stand up inside and the ground was full of pine leaves and soft soil. I liked it. The more I thought about it, I found I really wanted the event to be in the park. In the trees - in the dirt. It had to be that way. There was one huge problem however. This park had just too many damn people in it. She usually ran in the mornings, and occasionally in the early evening. That would never work. It would be almost impossible to enter the park, make my preparations, intercept, entertain, and exit with the necessary gear without being seen or worse. The only chance would be if she started running at night, and even that would be so risky. I had basically given up on the idea as unworkable and abandoned any more consideration of my little project. I actually felt partly relieved. I was being propelled by a force that was willing to risk a great deal. I was finally able to say no to it. But it had been exhilarating to think about. And then, it happened. About a month later something had changed - no more morning runs. I had kept my eyes open for her thinking it was a temporary aberration but not so. The morning runs were no more. The evening runs were also not happening. I assumed that meant my daily theatre was now over. She had stopped running maybe, or moved, or who knows what had happened. I felt a real sense of a lost opportunity and was upset with myself for being so damned cautious and safe. Why could I not dare to take what I wanted and needed. It bothered me for days. It was a pure accident that I discovered the truth of the situation. I had decided to take a late night stroll to the store for supplies one night and it was just before 10 pm. As I came around the corner, who should almost run me over but my fantasy girl in the flesh. She gave me a little smile as she glanced back at me half in apology for the near miss. Just the smallest bit of eye contact. I wondered if she noticed anything in the look on my face because in a flash, I knew that I was back on the hunt. The wolf inside me howled. I must have been grinning. I now knew that one major hurdle had been cleared for my goal. I would have darkness for cover and fewer people around. I saw so clearly I would have one last hurdle to overcome. I must contend with any real noise that would be created in the key moments when I would pounce and bring my prey to my little hiding place. Before I had even managed to get home, I had an inspired idea. It was crazy and daring and perfect. I felt that fate was on my side and that my fantasy could now be made reality. I would not delay. The very next day was to be "The Day". *** *** *** *** I was in position as I planned. There a small tree directly beside the path in just about the ideal spot for my needs. It would conceal me just enough to gain full advantage of the element of surprise. I was crouched down on one knee with my head up looking straight up the path to the entry of the park. It was only a matter of time now. I knew that if she was as predictable as I expected, I would see her within the next five minutes or so. The timing was important but it was too late to think of that now. In that moment, I thought of almost nothing. Thought was no longer needed. I was tense, rigid, staring, and ready to pounce. All my attention was concentrated in a single state of readiness. The waiting was the only thing and everything now. The details had all been taken care of. I had broken a couple of inconvenient light standards that made my position in the park quite dark. I had changed into some black pants and black jacket which would make me extra difficult to see. I had executed my plan for the "noise problem" and the curtain was about to go up on that little symphony. Strange to say after all the planning that had led up to this moment, what was to happen next had no script. I knew that the moment I had my hands on her, everything that happened after would be whatever I wanted in that moment. Nothing more and nothing less. And that is exactly the way I wanted it. After what seemed like days, and was probably minutes, she appeared. My eyes locked on to her and my whole body got a jolt of adrenaline. I felt like I could lift a car just then. That oh so familiar figure was scarcely more than shadow but I knew absolutely who it was running right at me. Any second now.... She was only a couple feet in front of me when I jumped out from the side and directly into her path. Her pace did not alter and she did not react at all until she crashed directly into my shoulder. The impact was devastating. Her feet kept going forward but her torso went straight down and landed with a thud on the pavement. The only sound was a gasp as all the air in her lungs was released, and she was for the moment completed disoriented. I quickly grabbed her by her feet and starting dragging her off the path and across the grass. She felt as light as a feather. I was looking at her full in the face as she was gasping and wheezing and trying desperately to breath. It took a moment before her expression shifted from one of shock, to one of confusion and then almost immediately after - fear. I was almost into my enclosure before she started to react at all. She began to twist her body and tried to dig in her fingers into the dirt. With almost no voice , she was saying no, no, no,no, no, and with each word her voice got a little bit louder, it got into a higher note, and sounded a little more desperate. I pulled her all the way under branches until she was flat on her back in the dirt floor of the enclosure. Here it was almost total darkness and I had to rely on touch alone to control her. She began to try and kick at me while I held her, and when I released one foot she rolled over and tried to crawl out. And then she really found her voice. A full throated shriek escaped her. The cry of terror and pure panic. I pulled her feet back so that she was flat on her stomach and landed with all my weight on her back. I grabbed her by the hair with one hand and reached to my belt with the other. I pulled out my very sharp little knife and held it up to her cheek with dull side of the blade making contact. I could feel her whole body contract, and she became frozen in place. Her voice was completely lost now as she was too afraid to do anything. Only shallow ragged breaths came out of her as I held the knife without moving at all for several moments. Seeing that all the fight was out of her, I began to slowly drag the knife across her cheek, down along her jaw, and then down the neck to her shoulder. Then she began to sob in punctuated little gasps at first, and then gradually longer and longer sobs until as she began to wail in earnest. I let her cry. I wanted her to cry. I wanted to hear every sound coming from her. It was all mine. Never releasing her hair, I pushed her face straight down into the dirt and held it there with all my weight shifting forward as I moved up her back to pin her shoulders. My knife slid along the shoulder blade and found the strap on her top . With one swift pull the strap surrendered. So too the other strap. I pulled her little tank top down her torso until I could feel the bra strap. Again the knife carefully glided across the skin until it was under the strap, and it was severed easily. I grabbed a hold of the tank top and simply tore it off her back. It came away in a moment. I was meeting no resistance at all as I let go of her hair and slid down to find her ass. I took my free hand and pulled her tight shorts up from her skin and drew the knife across the fabric down one side which sounded like the slow deliberate tearing of paper. The process was quickly repeated on the other side until the whole beautiful ass was exposed. I peeled the shorts away. I did not hesitate a moment. I tossed the knife back and I yanked my jacket and shirt straight over my head flung them behind me. My hands grabbed my pants and pulled them straight down to my knees in one jerk. In the next instant I was on her back with one hand in her hair, my teeth clenched on the back of her ear, and my knee forcing her legs to open. She did not fight. She even stopped crying all of a sudden. She let me easily open her legs so that I could get a full mount from behind. Now it was my turn to make sounds. I moaned and growled as my cock finally found its mark. I had her now completely and I lunged deep and hard inside of her with a howl. Once inside her I began to hammer away with full force. My lust was a fury and it would be vented now. My eyes were finally adjusting to the light, and I raised myself slightly and as I looked at her face in profile, I could see her eyes were closed and her teeth were clenched. Her face looked contorted, and her hair had dirt and leaves stuck in it. With each desperate thrust, I could now hear a corresponding gasp. The sound of a woman getting fucked hard. Now, that was a wonderful sound. In my peaking frenzy, I wanted to show her my strength, and started to man-handle her. I pulled hard on her hair bringing her head straight back. With my free hand I pressed my palm into her face, hooked my fingers into her mouth. I slid my hand down and grabbed her breast and squeezed hard. She cried out in pain as I twisted and pulled. I began to rake my fingers across her shoulder and down her back hard, and she was squirming and yelping as I began to carve lines down her back. All the while the pace and force of my thrusting was unrelenting. With my wild excited state it could be no surprise that I would not last long. With my heart rate going crazy, I could feel the growing sensation deep inside me of impending release. The climax would be now. For that I would change positions. I pulled out of her, grabbed one arm and rolled her over with one forceful pull. I flung myself on top of her again and forced my knees between her legs. She did nothing to prevent it. She had her face turned away from me and her body was loose. I could move her in any way I wanted and she would submit. I again found the position I needed and drove straight back inside her. I grabbed her legs and lifted them onto my shoulders as I sought full leverage and penetration. I now slammed into her with every ounce of energy I could find, and knew that I would come any second. I reached down with both hands and grabbed her head and pulled her face directly up to mine for the first time, and screamed out as my electric charge released with a blinding light in my head and a crazy tension in my body which spasmed and convulsed. I ground myself on her as if I could somehow go deeper still inside her. I could feel my cum pour out of me in a powerful burst seeking to fill her. In the moment of release I looked right at her and discovered she was looking right at me and we locked eyes. I stared at those eyes in what could only be described as awe. I was overwhelmed by all that I had felt, and knew I would remember this moment forever. I stayed locked on her eyes for some time as I lay on top of her savoring the sensation, unwilling to spoil the moment by moving in any way. I could not read her expression at all, and I wished I could have read her mind if only in that moment. Suddenly I was aware that her seeing me like this was a bad idea. Something I should never have allowed. I was risking everything now and knew it was a terrible mistake - for one of us. But there was no question what I would do. I leaned forward so that my body was pressed tight against her and my lips were at her ear. I said "I chose you and only you". "I will let you go, and I will not look for you again". I suddenly rolled off her and was on my feet. I pulled up my pants and found my jacket and was dressed in a few moments. I grabbed my knife and the shreds of her clothes and stuffed them into my bag. My time was up by now, and knew every moment more I wasted would be costly. I pointed to a bag under the tree and told her, "that is for you. Open it. You will need it". It contained a change of clothes that were similar to what she usually wore, although I did think they were a little nicer and would fit her well. It also contained $10,000 dollars and a note which said only "vacation?". This last item was a strange act of contrition on my part which I knew was likely to be misinterpreted - but I felt like it was necessary in some way that was hard to explain. In truth, she was very special to me and I believed I owed her something tangible as a gesture to express that fact. This was the best I could come up with. I took one last glance down at her and saw that she was now half sitting up on her elbows looking at me with that unreadable face. My face softened and I felt sad to go but there was no choice, I swung around and pushed the branches aside and began to step out. I heard a voice behind me say in a flat and even tone, "I know who you are". I froze. I had a range of emotions pass through me and I neither moved nor spoke for what seemed like a long time. I just stood there trying to understand why she would tell me this now. It was crazy, and I couldn't even process the significance of it all. Finally, I said only "well, then we may see each other again sometime" and I walked out. I broke out into a short sprint to another tree nearby. I had a change of clothes sitting there and I was going to stick to the plan even though it seemed pointless now. I ripped off my jacket and pants and threw on shorts and a t-shirt to look like a jogger, stuffed my items back into my bag, and then simply started to walk straight out of the park. As I walked back to the park entrance I thought of the devil in the desert offering Jesus all the wonders of the world as the ultimate temptation. Jesus sent Satan packing. But being only a man, I took the deal. I should have known that the price would be high. I guess I would find out how bad the deal really was soon enough. At the park entrance I saw the burning fires of hell, and they burned for me. All was madness and pandemonium. There was a great roar of fire that crackled and raged. There were yells, and screams, and people running. There were police cars everywhere. There were sirens, and horns and fire trucks lined up and down the street in front of me. It seems that someone had decided to torch a couple of houses under construction on that street. The sound taken all together was a crazy orchestra of chaos. The scene and the atmosphere seemed so appropriate to me just then. I just wanted to just stand there and take in the spectacle for a while. Then, I had the strangest idea. Certainly not part of the plan. I turned around and walked back into the park entrance and just stood there looking back towards the tree, towards her. I wanted to see her come out. I guess I was trying to get caught. It made no sense. After a couple minutes, I saw a figure emerge. She had dressed herself and she simply strode out to the path. She did not look in my direction at all. I could see her moving down the path and after a short distance she started to run. As I followed her trajectory, it looked to me like she was simply carrying on with her run on the usual route. I don't know what I expected to see, but as I saw her disappear into the darkness I knew that this woman was a complete enigma to me. She was the unpredictable one. Even with all my study of her movements and tendencies over the many weeks, I felt sure that she understood me far better than I did her then. Taking Control in the Park I wandered home in a slow and meandering pace. I replayed all the events in my head, trying to burn each and every detail into my memory. When I walked in the door, I went to the fridge and grabbed myself a beer. I wandered into my bedroom and flopped onto the bed and lay there staring at the ceiling for a long time. Of all the things I had seen that night, what came to me was that pair of eyes. I tried hard to find the image exactly, and to see into them. Inside those eyes was a greater mystery than my darker impulses or the lure of the flesh. I wondered to myself if it was too late to call the devil back. Maybe we could make a new deal. It has been several days since that fateful night. Every time the phone rings or there is knock at the door I feel like my life is going to come to an end. I can't think of the future. I have only the day, the hour, the moment in front of me. I think the waiting and not knowing is almost worse than being finally caught. I really do feel like an animal now and I am in a cage of my own making. I am completely in her power now and she must know it. All I can think is; What is she waiting for? What is she going to do? When is she going to do it? Who could have predicted that this is how things would end up? I thought I was in control but in truth I never was. Taking Control in the Park Ch. 02 2 - Her Side of the Story Authors note: this story was written with the idea that it would be read after reading the original story of the same title, and I think you will get more out of this story line if you read both. But this story certainly does stand on its own if you want to read only one. I am grateful for any comments or criticisms you may have. Also, if you are an available editor who can give critical commentary on characters and plot, and likes my stories, please say hello. * * * * * When I started out for my run that day, it was just like every other day. Being the creature of habit that I am, I was following all the usual rituals that mark the pre-run part of my day. I had laid out all my running clothes, my iPod, and headphones carefully on the bed. I made a cup of tea, and nibbled on some fruit. I spent about fifteen minutes visualizing my run for the day. Running is my time for meditation as much as it is for exercise. I start to get into that space even before I hit the road. People who don't run probably don't fully appreciate this aspect. I have noticed that my meditations tend to overlap on a day to day basis. Almost like putting a book down and then finding one's place when you return to it. Sometimes it is merely working through things that are bothering me, or other times reliving an event or an exchange I had with someone that had upset me or provoked some strong reaction, and other times just strange free floating thoughts and observations about life and people. The mind is a strange and complex world of theater when you really take the time to consider its whirring and spinning. On the day that I first saw him, it was such a beautiful day. The sun was beaming, and there was a slight breeze that cooled me in a delicious way. I felt an exhilaration in my running. I had reached the point where I had forgotten my body and I was in an almost trance like state as I floated across the pavement. This is the type of moment that makes me continue daily running as a part of my life. As I turned onto a side street that I like to take on my route to the local park, I saw a man's face. He was seated in front of a window just above street level in an apartment building. I was still some distance away, but for some reason I could see his face clearly. It must have been something to do with the way the light was shining on the window at that time of day. His face was illuminated in a striking way. As I began to get closer I noticed that he was now looking at me. My normal reflex is to avoid eye contact with strangers, and I instantly shifted my gaze away and looked towards the end of the street. I took just the briefest of little side glances back to the window as I was just about to pass. I saw that the man had stood up from his chair and moved across his apartment to another window directly facing the street, and was looking straight at me. I smiled a little to myself as I passed. I have had this experience of men staring at me - as he was - many times. This experience often leaves me with a contradictory reaction. On the one hand, it is affirmation of desirability which I duly note, and on some level require. But, I am also left with vague feelings of contempt. Most often the person viewing me does not interest me in any way and their behavior is an unwanted intrusion on my consciousness. Even deeper than that, I feel their leering is an ineffectual expression of a longing or desire they cannot fill. In this sense, it is really kind of a pathetic behavior, and there is nothing less sexy than a pathetic man. A real man goes in a straight line after what he needs and gets it. He doesn't stand on the sidelines and imagine ' what if.' These feelings were at the forefront of my mind as I continued on my run. I still had a very distinct picture in my mind's eye of his face, and my thoughts danced around its image. I was thinking how obnoxious it is for men like him to behave that way but I was also amused by it too. I started to think about what he would do if I were to come face to face with him. I imagined that he would be tongue tied and not have the slightest idea how to spark my interest. It seemed a bit mean spirited to make these assumptions but I cant deny that I had these notions from the first. In spite of these impressions, there was also a recognition that he was not unattractive. He was not particularly remarkable in appearance. Very average and forgettable I would say if it not for a glint of intelligence that was mixed in his expression when I first saw him. It was an enduring image. By the end of my run, I had forgotten all about him and expected to never think of him again. It didn't work out that way. The very next day, I returned to my run on the same route. As I turned up that same street I saw the man again. It was not quite like the first time. I didn't actually spot him until I was closer but I noticed in my peripheral vision that he was moving across his apartment to occupy the front window just like before. But this time he was further back from the window. I guessed he was trying to be less noticeable than previously, and was attempting to be a secret voyeur. For the rest of my run I amused myself by thinking what effect my running past would have on him. I imagined a little self abuse was in his future and laughed to myself. And so it began. The running by the window of this man became part of my running ritual, and his unfailing appearance at the window became a ritual of his. Thinking about him and what he must be feeling entered my meditations regularly now. I tried to avoid letting him catch me looking his way although I did steal glances from time to time to confirm his presence. I noticed that he seemed to be waiting for me in front of his window each day like some horny sentinel. I must admit that this daily stroking of my ego was fun for me and I enjoyed teasing him. I liked that I had stirred up some desire in this man, and took some guilty pleasure in the mild anguish I presumed he must feel. This went on for a couple weeks or so without fail. Then something very unexpected happened. I came to the usual place at the usual time and I didn't see him in the window. I felt almost disappointed. After about a mile or so I turned a corner just before I entered the park and I caught sight of that same man running behind me about fifty yards or so. I knew his face well by now. I actually started chuckling to myself. "Is he going to introduce himself or is he just taking the voyeur thing to a whole new level of pathetic?" I wondered. I presumed I would find out soon enough. I had some music playing for my run but when I realized this man was following me I quickly muted it. As I ran through the park, I was wondering if he was still following me but I didn't want to turn around to see. Instead I just waited for what would unfold. Would he have the nerve to actually stop me and talk to me? So, for a few minutes I ran forward but with all my senses aimed behind me. I tried to figure out what was happening back there. I then started to hear some foot steps. I realized he was definitely closer now - maybe twenty yards. It seemed comical to me at first but then doubts about the situation began to creep in. I was wondering what the hell I would say to this man if he actually stopped me. Would I feign complete ignorance of him or would I ask him how long he intended to keep stalking me during my runs? Did I even really understand his intentions. That thought unnerved me a little. All of a sudden it dawned on me that I was not prepared for this encounter at all. It would be too strange and unpredictable under the circumstances. I started to speed up a little. I figured I could outpace him if I had to. But after about 20 seconds I could hear his footsteps getting closer. Maybe ten yards. "Damn it," I thought. He really is going to try to catch up to me. And I sped up a little more. But the distance continued to close and I started to get very nervous and even a little scared. I don't know why I was scared. I had never thought this man was someone to worry about. He looked like a nice man, a shy man even. Then I realized he was directly behind me and could practically reach out and touch me at any moment. My heart was beating way too fast now and I was finding it a little hard to breath. I was flooded with anxiety and really getting worried. I wanted to get the hell out of there. I began to glance around for other people. Could I find help if I needed it? I was bracing myself for what was next when all of sudden he backed. The sound of his footfalls slow and seemed to stop altogether. I was filled with an overwhelming sense of relief. I didn't slow down. I kept running hard to make sure I could put some distance between us. As I got to a bend in the path a minute later, I glanced behind me and I could not see him at all any more. Thank god. * * * * * The next few weeks were by far the strangest in my life. After the little encounter in the park, I took a couple days off running while I puzzled over the event. It was definitely an experience that had scared me. This stranger had gone from a run of the mill peeper to a full blown stalker - had he not? Who could say what he had in his mind. But, on the other hand nothing had really happened. This thought was unsatisfying. I could not be sure if I simply outran him and he became too tired to pursue further, or if something else happened. Maybe he wanted to talk and chickened out at the last second - or was there another reason? Once the initial fear had begun to subside, an intense curiosity began to fill void. I wanted to really understand what this man was doing following me. What was his motivation? I could not let it alone. So, for several days I went out for my run on my usual route but I was in full blown reconnaissance mode. Each day I discovered that the man was there following me but he was well back in the distance. I doubt I would have seen him if I hadn't been deliberately searching. He never got close but did seem to observe me for most of my route through the park. This behavior was distressing. He was not doing this to get a look or to try to intercept me for an introduction. His purpose was definitely elsewhere. I began to go back to my feeling of fear in the park when he was running behind me, turning it over in mind like a coin between my fingers. What if the origin of my fear was my instinct kicking in telling me of danger, I wondered. What if he was making plans that were a threat to me. I became convinced there could be no other explanation. I had to act accordingly. For a time it seemed there was only one thing to do - stay home. I considered a change of route but felt there was no guarantee that I could be safe under the circumstances. After a couple weeks of sitting home, I started to feel like a caged animal. The interruption of my routine was most unwelcome and I found my mood and energy start to diminish. I wondered how long I could stand it. Combined with this, I also found my mind kept returning to this man over and over. I considered how badly I must have misjudged him if he was really capable of acting on the darker impulses I imagined. There was a word for what he had in mind for me which I tried very hard to not think of. It was as if pulling the concept out into the light of day for proper scrutiny made the possibility more real. Put simply, denial felt safer. In the series of strange events, the next was a real signpost. The sign indicated that the place which had but one road before could now have two. But the sign when I first saw it was almost completely unintelligible to me. I would have to puzzle out its meaning and it would be no simple task as it turned out. I had a dream. An astonishing, disturbing, lurid, and horribly vivid dream. In my dream, I had awoken in my bed and got up to exit the bedroom. When I began to open the door I heard laughing and loud voices as if a party were in progress within. When the door was fully opened, I looked across the threshold and saw a scene of destruction. I could scarcely recognize my apartment. The furniture was upended and tables broken. The pictures had all been torn off the walls. The blinds were hanging in tatters as if someone had used them to swing around on. They was an unbelievable amount of broken glass and debris on the floor - so much so that the surface of the floor could scarcely be seen. Holes had been smashed in all the walls. It was as though an apocalypse had occurred with the confines of my personal living space. I was filled with shock, and disbelief as I stumbled in. There were two men who looked at me as I entered the room. But my presence did not concern them in the least and they scarcely altered their demeanor or animated conversation. I asked the men - feeling completely stunned - what had happened. One of them turned and began to talk to me in a dismissive and contemptuous tone. "The boys came around for a little party last night. They had a great time. You should sit down and let loose a little. It would do you some good. You look pretty fucking uptight." I began to feel hot tears stream down my face as I realized that these people with their astounding callousness had destroyed all my things as if they had no value at all. I began to yell at him. "What the fuck happened in here?" "What do you mean what happened here?" he sneered. "Did something happen? You tell me what happened." His words were baffling. They were spoken with anger, but also a sneering challenge seemed to be implied. As the words reverberated in my skull, I suddenly had a sense of dread as a memory - or was it dream - started to pop in little disconnected images and flashes. Even stranger, I was now feeling shame. I felt as though I could not answer the challenge in his words. The images continued to piece themselves together and all at once I had a scene. I was being closed in on by five men. I am trying to escape but I am blocked as I try to run. One man is asking another man if he thinks she will like what is about to happen, and he says "Yeah, I think she will." I am being held down tight and struggling with glimpses of their faces and cocks. They were all pretty unattractive men, one was overweight, and the others just seemed like older, kind of scary rednecks or possibly street people. I didn't remember details of what I did or what they did to me. It was very vague but disturbing to me. While these 'memories' were returning, the two men announced they were leaving and seemed very angry. I was left standing there in the rubble, with these disturbing half formed images going through my mind. Then, suddenly the front door slammed open and a man I had remembered from my 'dream' strolled in saying "I came back!" quite cheerily. Behind him was a woman who was swinging a pair of handcuffs in one hand. The sight of the woman was new and for some reason particularly frightening. My stomach just lurched and I dropped to my knees and my heart started racing. I thought to run but then I saw that the rest of the men were following through the door as well. I realized there was no escaping and just turned towards them and started taking off my clothes. At this point I was aware that even though my heart was pounding with fear, I was resigned to the event and was actually anticipating what would happen. The woman with the handcuffs pushed me onto my back on the floor which was littered with debris and broken glass. She grabbed my wrists and handcuffed me to the table. Two men started to strip. One man got in behind me and grabbed my arms and said the more that I struggled the harder he was going to push me down into the the glass-covered floor. One of the men came and knelt above my face and started jerking off and occasionally smacking his cock against my face. He did not seem to expect me to do anything so I just lay very still and tried not to move. I was approached from the side by another man. I think he had several types of whips and seemed to be explaining as he went along about technique and how it should feel as he whipped me on my breasts, belly and thighs. It hurt, but not a lot, and I kept trying to be very still. I could see another large man in the background playing with his cock and watching. Then the woman approached me from the side. She had an intense expression that was very intimidating to me. She was squatting down directly in front of the man playing with his cock over my face. She watched him for awhile, then cast her attention to me. With a little smile, she produced a small blade from her pocket. I immediately started to struggle and scream. I was terrified of being cut. She looked directly into my eyes for a few moments as if searching for something. She suddenly thrust the blade for my face. I screamed "No, no, no, please!" and clenched my eyes shut. I would not open them again. She did not cut my face. As I lay trembling, I felt the blade come down and slice my upper arm. As I was screaming with the pain, I felt the man above me produce a hot spray across my face and onto my open mouth. It was horrible. I was choking and turning my head away and sobbing. Then the whipping started up again, and in contrast to what I had just experienced, it was a relief. I found myself laughing with every fall of the whip. Then, even that stopped. With my eyes still closed, afraid to look, I felt a cock rubbing ever so gently against my inner thigh and it felt amazingly good. We went through a cycle of cut, whip abuse, again and again, With each cycle I was getting a release of pleasure more intense than the last. Just when I thought I couldn't bear it any longer there was one wave of blindingly intense pleasure. A fearful sound broke in and cut the cord of this dream. My alarm went off. To say I was disturbed by this dream is to have a gift for understatement. I had never dreamed anything even remotely like this before. On the rare occasions where I have had vivid and emotionally charged dreams, I have tried hard to break them down and separate a little gold nugget of meaning through the sluice box of my waking consciousness. I had no experience and almost no language to cope with a dream of this sort. If there were primitive impulses or archetypes at work, I could scarcely imagine what significance they held. The question I kept asking myself is why would I have a dream like this, and why now. I decided I needed to dig a little deeper into this question. It was an itch that needed a mighty dose of scratching. I began to do a little research. I cast around in cyberspace for information. What I thought I might try to find was some discussions about human psychology and dreams. Perhaps I could find some palatable explanation for the deviance of my sleeping self which would neutralize my sense of distress. What I found instead was BDSM. Although I was aware there was such a thing, I had no true understanding of its principles, and certainly no appreciation for the scope of its literature - never mind its practitioners. But I came to understand. In this world, a complex array of psychological and physical stimuli produced physical responses that were not widely understood or appreciated. The practices of power exchange, humiliation, fear, and pain infliction cast my dream into a context where it could have an understandable form. If some human beings were powerfully drawn to such things, perhaps my dream was an echo from the depths of my more basic and perhaps primitive self. With millions of years of human evolution; who is to say what lies programmed into the DNA as dormant potential. This was my speculation. Taking Control in the Park Ch. 02 For me, it was a new idea and led to strange possibilities. Was it possible that I didn't know myself as well as I thought. Was it possible that I might be drawn to this deviant expression of sex. Was the dream brought on by my experience in the park. There was also another question which I was inexplicably reluctant to examine. Why was that woman in my dream. A nagging thought appeared. Was a key stuck in a door which I had only to turn and see what was inside. Many had walked through such a doorway leading to a world of strange ways of expressing their sexual energies. I had never conceived of such doors. The idea ate at me and wouldn't let go. * * * * * What does a stranger in a strange land do? They can hide or they can explore. It seems I could not hide. There were some things I started to do which were not a part of my daily routine before. One was run at night, another was read erotic stories and the other - it embarrasses me to admit - was masturbate. It started with the stories. While doing my 'research' I began to find and consume a variety of short stories of erotic fiction. The stories that depicted violence and control were the ones that I immediately gravitated to. In particular, I was fascinated by those stories that could draw out the thoughts and emotions of the characters involved. This brief but intense introduction to the depictions of violent encounters was to have an effect. I knew that I could not stand the prospect of no running at all, and I detested the idea of running on a treadmill. There were other options I could have attempted to explore but somehow did not. One night I felt particularly restless. My apartment was feeling increasingly confining. I was pacing about and felt like I was reaching some sort of breaking point. An angry voice in my head shouted to just shut off my paranoid fantasies and hit the road. If I just changed my route, that should be enough. So, I found myself out on strange streets quite late. It didn't take too long before I began to return to that floating sensation of weightlessness and a touch of euphoria as the endorphins kicked in. God, I had missed that. I was running without any concentration on where I was going. It was just like driving a car over a familiar distance of road. You head to a destination but all your decisions are on a peculiar autopilot. You can scarcely remember how you arrived once your destination has been reached. So it was that my body carried me to the park. When I was about to enter the gates of the park, I suddenly realized where I was. The atmosphere of the place was greatly changed for me. Where I normally saw beauty and felt a vague joyful appreciation of the landscape, I now saw hidden dangers lurking in every shadow and behind every turn. I easily imagined this must be what the prey feels like when it senses the predator is near. A screaming call to the awareness of your senses. I began to pick up speed more and more. By the time I was half way through the park I was at the physical limits of my ability. I made record-breaking time on my run that night. When I got home, I had never felt so tired. I had dumped a good deal of adrenaline and my body was now crashing. I needed my bed. I showered quickly and threw myself on the bed with the hope I should go right to sleep. But I did not. In my exhausted state, I closed my eyes and lay blissfully still as my muscles and nerve ending seemed to quiver and vibrate. The black expanse of my mind's eye was circling back to the park to relive the experience of my run. It let me see myself the way the predator would see me; alone, vulnerable, afraid, and on the run. My own private movie had another character. A shadowy figure appeared behind me and began to chase. I began to touch myself. Using my fingers, I began with a slow and delicate touch. I could see the dark images of the predator in chase, and the prey turning back and crying out with a desperate and involuntary shriek. I began to move my fingers a little deeper. The predator in no time at all closed the distance and grabbed me by the arm. I swung violently with my elbow and pulled with all my strength to break the hold. The man held fast and grabbed the other arm. I saw my body twisted sideways and then flipped to ground with ease. The man's body fell on top of me all the while holding my arms behind me. I began to pick up speed with my fingers. There was a wild thrashing and twisting of bodies as the prey gave one last desperate attempt to get out of the iron grip. I saw the man raise me and slam me back into the ground. He pulled one arm fully behind my back and caused me to cry out in pain. And then a voice of pure malice in my ear. "Do what you are told or you will regret it." The voice made me come. Was it wrong to be so aroused by such things? I was truly conflicted. But there was no denying my rituals were shifting. Running at night followed by some increasingly dark fantasies of pursuit and submission were the new norm. My meditations now were rather narrow in focus, and headed to the increasingly familiar destination of climax. In the daylight, I was annoyed by this change and felt guilty about it. I should shake it off like ill-fitting clothes I thought. But by the night time, I was like a junkie ready for another fix. It is well understood that junkies do stupid things once they get hooked. I was about to find out how well I fit the stereotype of the self-medicating. After many nights of running on a slightly amended route, (I never went past the window of the would-be stalker anymore) I had the closest encounter yet with the mystery man. I was running down a street late at night towards a main intersection that I needed to cross on my way to the park. As I rounded the corner to head towards a cross-walk, a man's body appeared right in my path and I nearly crashed straight into it. Only the quickest of side-steps allowed me to get past but not without actually clipping the shoulder of the man. The impact cause him to spin sideways a little and it turned me sideways somewhat as well. I saw the man I had been avoiding looking right at me. I couldn't help laughing at his expression although I would be hard pressed to explain why. There was definitely a flash or recognition on his face but not a word was exchanged. I straightened myself and continued running. As I continued to run, I was replaying that brief encounter on a loop in my mind. What could he be thinking now, I puzzled. Something in that expression was speaking to me. What was it saying? For the first time in many days I had let his face be the emblem of my musings. Later that night I got in my bed and found the black curtain behind my eyelids and waited for the private movie that might be projected upon it. I had a mental image of the man's face side by side with the shadowy figure of my first dark fantasy. Then I watched them slide into each other and the man's face was projected onto the head my sexual phantom. It made me shiver. I was close to saying that word that I dared not utter. Such was my premonition of things that might come to pass. * * * * * When other people have a fateful night, a life altering event that can never be undone, do they sometimes sense its arrival? Are there subtle premonitions, instinctual tinglings, a most distant and remote beacon from a lighthouse of undefined senses? In hindsight, I think I had something of its kind. The very next day after my near head-on collision I was jittery, and restless. I was scattered in my thoughts and seemed incapable of focusing my concentration on even simple tasks. Early in the day I was forming the thought that I should stay home on the coming evening. By the afternoon, I was telling myself that I was definitely not going to go out that night. It was not on the agenda. No way. But, in spite of this, when the night came I was absent-mindedness putting out my running clothes. "What are those doing there?" I asked myself. "It's not like you are going anywhere." And then, my shoes were taken out and set by the front door. "What is the point of that?" I reproached myself. Soon, I was kneeling and tying a shoe. "You can all get dressed up but there is no place to go," I chided. Then I was on the move. The fucking junkie needed a fix and was like a child - no logic would penetrate. There was a full blown argument going on in my head as two voice went back and forth about why I should or should not be going to park, and a third party seemed to be listening impassively to the exchange but rendering no verdict. In past nights my adrenaline would start to kick in when I entered the park and subside once I was near the exit. I had been getting off on this response. On this night, the nervous energy began far sooner and was reaching new levels before I even entered the park. By the time I crossed through the gate, I felt like a nervous wreck. I went down the gentle winding path and recognized a new and ominous sign. It was darker than normal on this path. All the voices in my head ceased argument and seemed suddenly in agreement. "Turn back!" they said in unison. Before I could take my cue on this direction, there was an explosion of white light and a cartoon-like cascade of stars. Time edited out a couple beats from the bar. First there was a dull throbbing all over my torso and a ringing in my ears. Then there was the sensation of moving horizontally but I couldn't place the origins of these feelings. I opened my eyes all of a sudden but had trouble focusing. The sky and trees seemed to be moving. And then it clicked as if the alarm clock had sounded. I couldn't breath and I was terrified. I knew exactly what was happening. And although I couldn't see clearly, I knew who was responsible. This was no dream, and unlike any of the strange fantasies I may have entertained, I was absolutely sure I did not want this. I wanted to cry out but was still gasping for air. I was crying out "no" repeatedly but could hardly say the words. I tried to dig my hands into the ground, desperate to find a hold to stop him from moving me to wherever we were headed. He dragged me under a tree, and I felt ready to fight to death in that moment. I remember kicking and scratching and desperately trying to roll over and crawl out from under the tree. For the briefest of moments I thought I might succeed. But the man was too strong, and very determined. I screamed for my very life as the hopelessness of the situation settled upon me. In the next moments, I had the most terrible instance of deja vu. I was being held down and a blade was presented to my face. The recognition scrambled my nerves and I felt as though the ground had opened up and would swallow me. A more sickening sense of vertigo I could not imagine. I have heard it said that victims of trauma when they go into shock can go deep into themselves and lose their senses. It is said to be a defense mechanism. I now understand what they mean. For a few minutes, my mind and body parted company. Time was changing tempo from andante to grave. My mind was closed in on itself in a tight little ball that would not look out. Something was going on out there with my body but for the time being that was not my problem. I know what he did but I really can't say that I remember much. I know only how it ended. I was aware that he was coming inside me and perhaps this signaled an ending to something in my brain. As if a light switch had been flicked, my eyes opened and I looked straight into the face I had expected to see. Rape, rape, rape rape rape. The word was now spilling out now in my head. He then spoke to me words I can never forget. He said, "I chose you and only you. I will let you go and I will not look for you again." With no small sense of irony I thought, "me too." I remember he pointed to a bag and said it was for me. Then he started to leave. And then I spoke. It was a strange impulse and I cant say that it was very smart, but I was still a little dazed I think. "I know who you are" I said. In that moment it felt like I was brandishing a knife of my own. He stopped with his back to me and there was a very pregnant pause. I was not afraid, but I think he was. He finally said something about maybe seeing each other again, and he ran away. All I could think was "Not if I can help it." I badly wanted to get dressed as soon as possible. But my clothes were nowhere to be seen. I turned to the bag that was left and found that it contained some clothes. This was no small relief and I gratefully put them on. In the very bottom of the bag I discovered there was an envelope that contained some money. "What the.." I screwed up my face. I held the cash for a moment peering at it as if it was a piece of technology that had no function. With disgust, I dropped it on the ground like it was something contaminated and toxic. "Let's just get out of here" I said to myself. I began to push my way through the branches and walked gingerly to the path. As I made my way out, I was a little dizzy and even swaying slightly. I didn't realize it then, but I was probably concussed. I just remember looking out and seeing a massive orange-red glow and giant plumes of blackness pouring across sky. I began to cough as my lungs found the overwhelming taste of smoke. I could hear the roar and crackle of flames. Not only that, but lots of other sounds too. Sirens, and screaming, and people in the streets running around shouting. I really started to wonder "Is this real?" It seemed like yet another apocalypse as the backdrop to yet another sexual assault. "Haven't I seen this type of movie before?" I muttered. I was no longer was sure of anything. If my brain was a little paralyzed just then, my body seemed to have a plan. My feet started moving. I didn't know why and I didn't care. After a few second I was running. I felt calmed. This was familiar. It was like the old days of running. Free floating disconnected thought of nothing in particular as my body transported me to a destination that it knew. It would get me home.