19 comments/ 42226 views/ 5 favorites The Element of Fear By: The Element of Fear hunterskill:I force her legs apart, then pull and let them rest on my shoulder and she struggles to keep them there, as the strain on the rope deprives her of even more breath. I savour the scent of her pussy and use one hand to pull her labia apart, rubbing up and down her only marginally damp mound. I bury my face between her legs, lapping the length of her womanhood like a dog, suckling a little on her clit. Just for the feeling of it, I don't want her excited and wet. When I let her legs drop to the ground, she struggles violently to fight the choking sensation and find a foothold on the damp earth. hunterskill:She has steadied herself now and breathes shallowly, her face a masterpiece of an expression of furtive unwanted lust, temporary relief and a dark premonition of the coming ordeal. She gets a clearer idea of what's to come when I strip off my fatigues and show her the weapon of my choice now, which has achieved the fullest possible extent, which is, as I have been told, way above average. She looks almost too content for my taste now, so I decide to give her a bit more to worry about than being fucked to pieces and first cut off two strands of her hair, which are a bit clotty with blood from my earlier reprimand. I trace her quivering body with the cold metal blade, which nicely reflects the reddish rays of the sun trapped in some morning mist close to the horizon. Then I stick it in the back of the trunk with one hard push, to have it handy later on. hunterskill:I grab her legs at the hollows of her knees and lift them up, so that she has to wrap them around me if she doesn't want to choke and enter her in full length with one hard thrust. Her face distorts in pain and agony. Well, as much as I enjoy tempo and rhythm, in these moments I prefer the slow brutal grating of her inner passage, until her body can't help it any more and lubricates in a desperate attempt to avoid injury. To my chagrin that happens very quickly so I hasten to make up for it in fucking her faster and occasionally letting her feel the rope a bit more. hunterskill:I even manage to work up a bit of sweat and sweeten the experience for her by reciting a few of Shakespeare's sonnets, hoping she appreciates good literature. She is losing consciousness a couple of times, which angers me a little, so I cut a tad into her shoulder to wake her up and revel in the experience throughout. Ah, the taste of blood. I suckle on her wounds, but this drives me over the edge much too soon, so I cum already after forty minutes, before I have really worn her out and she comes only once when she almost chokes at the same time. hunterskill:I withdraw and sit down on the cool ground while she struggles again to get into a position where she isn't strangling herself. I light a cigarette, content with the sight of her spectacular beauty, bathed in the morning sun, adorned with wonderful rivulets of blood on her body and semen dripping out of her aching pussy. I curse myself for having forgotten to take my camera again, so I just take a mental snapshot and close my eyes for now. hunterskill:Sorry for rambling on so long … Did you enjoy it though? sweetprey: Yes sweetprey: That was quite a fantasy … hunterskill:Hm … did it do anything for you? sweetprey: Oh yes, I think it will stay on my mind for quite a while. hunterskill:Good, that means that I will stay on your mind for a while. Well, I hope that won't be the only place where we can be together. sweetprey:Well … I am still not sure if meeting up would be a good idea, though. You just know too much about me … sweetprey: Let me think about it some more. hunterskill:No, not really. I still don't know your real name, who you are … you haven't even sent me a picture of you, so that I can imagine you … sweetprey: If I sent you a picture that wouldn't be imagining … Some of those I have on my computer here, are … Well … but, I don't think you will get to see them though. hunterskill:Oh well, then my sweet prey will remain faceless for now. Maybe another time … sweetprey: Maybe. Or maybe not. See it like that, I can have any face you want me to have. sweetprey: A picture might be disappointing, you never know. hunterskill:No, I don't think so. So much inner sweetness must reflect on your outer body … sweetprey: *blushes* thanks … he, he, but maybe I am not as sweet as it seems … hunterskill:Ah, that sounds great too. Isn't it strange, we hardly know anything about how we really are, but that makes it even more interesting and hot … sweetprey: I am glad I "met" you though. In a way, it actually quite changed my life. hunterskill:Well, I am glad you are enjoying this as much as I do. I hope I will be able to be everything for you ever dreamt of. sweetprey: Well your little story there will definitely give me something to dream of. I think it's time for me to call it a night now though. Work early tomorrow. hunterskill:Yes, you need your sleep. And your dreams. Hot, wet dreams I hope? sweetprey: I hope so too, and wish the same to you. hunterskill:Yes … thank you, I'm sure they will be. So sleep well, my little prey … and I see you tomorrow? Same place, same time? sweetprey: Yes. I might be here a bit later, have to do some shopping, so please don't go away if you don't see me, I will hurry home as soon as possible. hunterskill:Oh, I will wait for you. For as long as it takes. Till then. Good night. sweetprey: Good night. *** 20.Jan.2007 hunterskill:Hi my sweet prey … how are you tonight? sweetprey: Good … Quite cold lately, but now I am home finally … sweetprey: How are you? hunterskill:Not so bad, not so bad. But a little sad actually … sweetprey: Sad? Why's that? hunterskill:Well, I love spending time with you here online, obviously … but I am sad that you still don't want to meet me … in person … Have you thought about it a bit more? sweetprey: I have … But … You know, one hears all kinds of stories … And I told you so much, sometimes I worry you might misunderstand some things … hunterskill:Yeah, stories. And I don't think I misunderstand you … quite the contrary … I think I am the only person who really understands you … hunterskill:The only person that can make your dreams come true … hunterskill:Maybe I know you even better than you yourself. sweetprey: How can you think you are the only person that understands me, if you have never even met me? sweetprey: I am really curious to meet you sometimes, but I am just not sure it is a good idea. hunterskill:I know what you want. And if I was about to do something you don't want, there is always a safety mechanism one can apply - a safety word for instance … hunterskill:Like … fear. hunterskill:That is a nice word, isn't it? sweetprey: Well it is a nice word … But isn't it a bit strange for a safety word? hunterskill:Hehe, I am a strange man … and I thrive on fear. Don't worry, there is nothing I would do you don't really want. But how can we ever find out about who and what we are in real life if we don't take the chance and meet? sweetprey: Look, I will think about it some more … Maybe, some day, in a safe place … sweetprey: But if you keep asking I might decide for never. hunterskill:How about the photo you promised for ages? sweetprey: I will see what I can do about it … But not today … hunterskill:Yes, not today. You will think about. Of course. sweetprey: I will … sweetprey: Come on, is it that important? sweetprey: I thought you were talking to me because you enjoy our conversations … hunterskill:Yes, I do enjoy our conversations. But sometimes I think you just don't know what you want from me, or are afraid to give yourself to me. sweetprey: Well what I want from you is talk to you. Anything else might develop over the time, or might not. sweetprey: *sigh* sweetprey: Look, I am sorry if you were expecting something different sweetprey: I really wish our conversations could just go back to the way they used to be. hunterskill:Well, I know what I want. And I always get what I want. sweetprey: Well we shall see … sweetprey: Damn, this computer is driving me crazy! sweetprey: Do you know anything about computers? hunterskill:Yes, just enough for my purposes though. Is it slow right now? sweetprey: Yes. It's always a bit slow, but today is worse than ever. sweetprey: I tried to log into my email account, and it just won't open … hunterskill:Hehe, maybe someone is hacking you. You never know, there are lots of weirdoes out there … hunterskill:Probably nothing though … That happens at times … hunterskill:Well, if we would meet one day, I could fix your computer … and not only that … sweetprey: Come on, that's enough now. sweetprey: I think I am tired. I will just wait till I get into my emails, and after that I might go to sleep. hunterskill:Just stay with me a little longer. Then I will be silent. If that is what you want. sweetprey: Hehe, what use is it staying with you if you are silent? sweetprey: You could tell me some more of your stories … That might make me stay a bit more … hunterskill:Stories … yes, I could do that. hunterskill:But I have had quite enough of telling you stories. To be honest, now I have had enough time with you on here altogether. You may not understand what silence means right now, but you sure will in the future. sweetprey: Well then … I will learn all about silence. Good. I am going to bed now. Good-bye. hunterskill:Good bye my little prey. I will see you soon. sweetprey: Tomorrow I suppose. Unless you are still silent. sweetprey: Bye. *** 27.Jan.2007 "Are you sure you want to delete your account? This process cannot be reversed." For a few moments Darlene let the mouse hover over the little pop up window, wandering back and forth between the "OK" and the "Cancel". Should she, really? It was over. Gone. Maybe it was a bit melodramatic to delete her account, but it seemed the only way to stop her from logging in every day, every hour to see if he was online now maybe, or at least had left her some kind of message. It was time to end that now. Seven days had passed since her last conversation with hunterskill. Hunterskill. What kind of name was that anyway? 'I don't even know his real name,' she realized. Nor did he know hers, of course. Maybe she shouldn't have been quite as hesitant … But she had wanted to meet up! Eventually. If he just hadn't been quite as … 'Stop it!' She stared at the screen. Damn, one could think she had a crush. On a guy she never even met. On a weirdo who kept asking for her name, for pictures, to meet her. And then, when she wanted to wait just a little bit longer, he had stopped talking to her altogether, without any warning. Or well, with warning, but how could she have known he was serious? And what if … Come on, delete the account. Maybe she should at first check her emails again, though? No, no … She should delete, turn off the computer and do whatever she used to do every evening two or three months ago, before that whole thing started. Whatever that was. A movie maybe. Or she could call Carol. Or … Whatever. First get this over with and turn off the computer. With a sigh Darlene clicked "OK". *** 3.Feb.2007 Dring! Dring! The sound of the phone worked its way mercilessly through to her brain. … pulled the blanket over her head. Damn thing. Tired. What time was it anyway? Her hand searched for her mobile phone on the bedside table. The next moment she sat up in her bed. The chill of winter air coming into her room from the open window helped to clear her mind. Eight thirty. Damn. Why hadn't the alarm … The empty wine bottles over by the TV indicated she might have forgotten to set it. Dring! The landline phone was still ringing. Darlene jumped out of the bed and almost slipped and fell: Apparently she had just dropped her clothes in a pile in front of the bed when she was tired enough to sleep. She steadied herself and reached the phone a moment later. Still out of breath she picked it up. "Yes?" Was it just her bare feet or the silence on the other side that sent a chill up her spine? Darlene waited a few seconds. The silence seemed to fill her head, her one-room-apartment, the world. "Hello?" Nothing. Silence, except for the sound of her heart violently beating. Then there was a beeping inside the phone; whoever had been on the other end had hung up. She stared at the phone in her hand for a few moments, before she did the same. Dring! As soon as she had hung up the phone, it rang again. Her fingers hadn't even fully let go of it yet. "Hello!?" Her voice sounded more anxious than she had intended. Again, she was met with silence. She could feel her heartbeat increasing again, it almost hurt. Then, however, after a second of hesitation, the silence was broken by a female voice on the other side of the phone. "Wow! That was fast. I hadn't expected you to answer the phone quite as soon." "Carol! Thank God, it's you." Relief. "Who else should it be?" Carol answered, "Where the hell are you anyway? It's eight thirty. We've been worried." "Sorry, I overslept … Listen, did you try to call me just a minute ago?" "No. Why?" "I had one of these creepy calls again. You know, where there's no one there." "Oh … Well, I wouldn't worry too much about those," Carol said, "It's probably just some fuck-up with the phone lines. I sometimes get those too." "Maybe … Except, I get them more often than sometimes," Darlene sighed, "At least it woke me up. I'll be there in half an hour." "No need to hurry. The boss isn't in today. It's just Anthony and me. So … You overslept. Big night out yesterday?" Carol seemed in a chatty mood. As usual, really. But her voice helped Darlene to drown out the questions from her mind, to calm down the fast beat of her heart. "No, just watching TV … And I suppose I had a glass or two … Don't know, I just don't feel that well lately." "Oh, sweetie, you should have called me. And you really need to get out more. When's the last time you went on a date, by the way?" Darlene decided not to reply to that question, but Carol just continued, "You are still coming to our Valentine's party, aren't you? We have a kind of surprise for you … Well … Roger has invited this old friend of his. Apparently a really nice guy. And good looking and Roger thinks he should be just your type." "Carol …" Darlene made a feeble attempt to protest, but Carol just kept going on about how she should keep less to herself, and how many guys were interested in her if she just gave them a chance, and … Eventually Darlene managed to interrupt her friend's rambles. "Look, I'm freezing – I'm not even dressed yet. And if I don't get going soon, I'll never get to work." "Of course," Carol seemed slightly taken aback, "See you in half an hour, then." While she got dressed, Darlene's thoughts returned to the phone call before Carol's. Why did it freak her out that much? Carol was probably right, something messed up with the lines, the phone company, or whatever. Or maybe someone had a number very similar to hers, so people kept misdialling. They could of course say something in such a case. For some reason, the memory of hunterskill asking for her phone number invaded her mind. He had wanted to hear her voice. But that was nonsense, he didn't have her number, so what could he have had to do with these phone calls? And anyway, there hadn't been that many mysterious calls, really. Maybe four or five over the last two weeks, not more. Two weeks. She was dressed now, and walked into the bathroom. For a few moments she stopped in front of the mirror. Her reflection looked a bit too pale for her own taste. The increase of her alcohol consumption and probably also the excess of silly movies were showing. With a sigh she grabbed her toothbrush. Carol was right, she needed to get out more, meet people, guys. Two weeks, and she still didn't quite know what to do with her in the evenings, without their conversations. How pathetic. He probably had just found someone new to talk to, and so should she. Preferably someone real. Someone, whose face she could see right from the first moment, someone she could trust more than that nutter who was chatting up strange girls over the internet. But hopefully someone who still could understand her as well as … Oh, cut it out! Her teeth were brushed, hair was okay, it was nine by now, and probably she should just grab something for breakfast on the way to work to save time. Within a minute she had locked her apartment's door and was hurrying down the stairs. On the ground floor she passed the mailboxes. Something white was blinking in hers. Oh well, she could get it when she got home. Probably just more bills, anyway. Then again … She fished the keys out of her coat pocket, and opened the mailbox. Inside, there was just a piece of paper, folded up twice. Her fingers were shaking a bit when she retrieved and unfolded it. Only one sentence was written there, in large, tidy letters: "Don't forget the element of fear." *** 6.Feb.2007 The telephone rang. It took him a while to realise that this wasn't on the TV set, and that he must have had dozed off again. His snoring bed neighbour didn't even wake up from the noise. He hastened to answer the phone. "Yes hello?" "Hullo old chap. How's the head? And the rest of you?" "Ah, it's you. Much better, thanks. How did you know that I am in the hospital?" "Well, I rang your workplace, since you didn't answer your phone at home. They told me. So what the fuck happened?" Ron sighed and tried to sit up a bit more in the bed. His eyes scanned the sides, but he could not find the remote to adjust the height of the back support. "A lot of bollocks, that's what happened. I came home after work and discovered that someone had broken into my flat. All valuables gone, my laptop, my stereo, even two of my rifles … However, I had the feeling that there was someone in the staircase when I came up, so I went out immediately to check it. I couldn't see the bloke properly, as he had two flights of stairs as a head start and started running as soon as he realised that I was after him. He got out of the house and ran across the street. I followed him and was about to catch up to him, when I overlooked a car. Next thing I know I woke up in this shit-hole here." "Damn, that it is stroke of bad luck. Did they get the guy?" "Not that I know of. I never saw his face. A big fellow, somewhat brutish looking, you know, neck like a rugby player. Couldn't see much more of him, so if none of his booty turns up somehow and can be linked to him, I don't see how he is going to be caught. He was a pro, no doubt about that, he didn't leave any fingerprints whatsoever." The Element of Fear "I see. So, you had a concussion I heard? Any more damage?" "No, not really, couple of bruises and scratches. I was quite lucky apparently. According to the doctors, everything is more or less fine again, and they are going to release me on Monday already." "Well, that is good news. You see, that was one of the reasons I wanted to speak to you. You are still coming to our Valentine's do I suppose?" "Wouldn't miss it for the world." "Glad to hear that. Listen: I think we found the perfect match for you. I spoke to Carol, and we found one of her friends who is also single and not only that, the description of your ideal woman you have given me could have been of her, in any respect." A cold sneer appeared on his face. Everything seemed to be going according to plan, despite his little mishap. "That sounds too good to be true." "I know her too, she is a quite a close friend of Carol's actually and goes by the sweet name of Darlene. I am sure you are going to love her. She is really attractive, you know, and not stupid either." "Thanks, that will get me out of this fucking bed in no time. I am really looking forward to this. You have no idea how much." "Well, glad to help an old friend out. Shame we lost touch for such a long time. We'll have a decent chat and an untold number of pints at the party. Gotta run now, just wanted to see how you are doing, and whether we can tell Carol's friend that she can expect a special Valentine's gift." "Oh, great, thanks for setting me up, mate. And sure, you can tell her that, she is going to get quite an extraordinary Valentine's gift." "Hah, I see your confidence didn't suffer from the blow to your head. Righteo mate, see you on the party then, around eightish, but you can come around earlier and we have a few pints on the side and reminisce about the good old times if you want." "Thanks, well, we see how it goes. See you at the party then. Bye." "Bye, get better soon." Ron kept the receiver in his hand for a few seconds before putting it back on the station. So, the game was on. Unless there was another friend of his school-friend's wife that looked exactly like sweetprey and had the same first name in real life, his little scheme had worked. He lit the bedside lamp and had a quick glance at his bed neighbour, who had rolled to the other side and had stopped snoring for once. Outside it was almost dark, the illumination of the room was solely coming from the TV and some lit windows of the opposite wing of the hospital. The smell of disinfectant hung in the air. The bed was somewhat uncomfortable. He changed the channel on the TV without really looking at it. His mind wandered back to his last encounter with his prey. She just wouldn't give him what he wanted; so he took it. It wasn't difficult to find the right software on the net for his purposes. And it was easy to use. She had been rather careless as far as security is concerned, like most women seemed to be. He had found all he needed when penetrating her system, letters with her name and address, some pictures of her and her friends and even a few pages of her diary. She was scared of him, and yet feverishly attracted, which was exactly how it was supposed to be. He had all he needed to go on, and when looking at the pictures he saw that chance had dealt him an extra trump for his hand – she was apparently a friend of the wife of an old school mate, he had not seen for years, but who had always been eager to hang out with him in the past. It was almost too easy. Getting back in touch with him, learning of the party, moaning about his loneliness, getting invited. Everything was running like Swiss clockwork. And then … the burglary. Well, no harm done, it would seem. Still all signs on go, tomorrow would be the last day he had to spend here, the release was scheduled for Monday, which gave him another two days to regroup before the party. Valentine's Day. Yes, that was the perfect day for it … *** 14.Feb.2007 – Valentine's Day "Darlene! There you are! You look great!" Carol put an arm around her to pull her closer and kissed her once on each cheek. Her mouth still close to Darlene's ear she whispered: "He's already here. Roger was right, he's absolutely gorgeous. Good thing you're finally here, any later and I couldn't have kept the other girls off him any more. I'll introduce you to a few other people first, so it isn't quite as obvious." She let go off Darlene and added in a louder voice, "You can put your coat on the bed. The bedroom's over there. Oh, and in the kitchen we have a fantastic spinach-zucchini-soup. So I'll meet you there in a minute." With that, Carol shoved her on in direction of the bedroom door. There was indeed a huge pile of winter coats on the bed, and Darlene added her own to the pile. Next to the bed a couple was arguing in angry whispers, but went quiet as she entered the room. The woman had put her coat halfway on, apparently she wanted to leave; the man seemed to be trying to prevent her from this. The eyes of both of them were on Darlene now, still filled with the anger that was meant for each other. Quickly she backed out of the room, back into the noise of the party. As she stumbled towards the kitchen, pushing her was through crowds of smiling people with glasses of wine or beer in their hands, she wished herself back out onto the street, into the cold and quiet February night. In the kitchen there were yet more people, a huge pot full of soup simmered on the oven, opened and unopened bottles of wine stood on the counter, the table, everywhere. Darlene added the one she had brought to the collection. On the wall there was a somewhat silly looking decoration of red balloons and hearts cut out of paper. As every year, along with Carol's intention to set up all her single friends with each other, this was the only thing that reminded her this was a Valentine's Day party. Someone handed her a plastic dish full of thick, green soup; a moment later a plastic cup with white wine found its way into her other hand. Then Carol was back, excited as always. "There you are! I was just looking for you. The soup is fantastic, isn't it? Wait, I'll show you around a bit." She grabbed a guy standing near her by the hand, and pulled him away from the group he was just giving a loud speech to. "Adam, I am sure you remember my colleague Darlene?" Adam grinned. "Of course. Hi Darlene, nice to see you again." "Yeah, nice to see you again," Darlene murmured. Adam gave her another grin, then returned to his little group to continue his speech. Carol put her arm around Darlene's shoulders and steered her out of the kitchen. It took all of Darlene's concentration not to spill any of her wine and soup. They stopped by another group, Carol pushed her right into the middle of them. "Hi guys. This is my colleague Darlene … " Before anyone could say much more than "Hello", they had left the group again, and Carol leaned closer to Darlene. She could feel her friend's breath on her ear as Carol whispered: "Enough distraction manoeuvres. I will introduce you to him now. I'm sure you'll like him. Come on, he's over there." With that, Darlene was dragged off to one of the darker corners of the room, in which a guy was sitting on one of the many chairs that were pushed towards the wall, and seemed to be watching his own feet with great interest. Despite the fact that he was sitting in the shade, and even though his face was barely visible, Darlene's heart started beating a little faster. There was something about this guy – not only his dark hair, his tanned skin, and his tall, muscular figure. She couldn't quite describe it, but there was something even to the melancholy way he was staring down at the floor. Darlene as obviously not he only one who noticed this. To the left of the guy there sat two girls, talking to each other, giggling, and every now and then they turned to him, smiled at him. He, however, didn't seem to notice. "Ron," Carol said, "I think I mentioned my colleague Darlene before?" Ron looked up, and the moment he spotted Darlene the melancholy seemed to disappear from his face. Darlene felt heat rising up to her face under his smile. "Hi." Her voice came out somewhat weakly. "So, Ron, this is Darlene, Darlene this is Ron," Carol said quickly, her thoughts apparently already somewhere else, "Why don't the two of you just chat a little? I am sure you will find you have lots to talk about … I have to go, Mary has just arrived, I need to show her around a little, don't want to be rude to my guests." She gave Darlene a conspiratorial smile, and Darlene remembered that Carol's cousin Mary was supposed to meet Anthony today, since Anthony had just had a divorce half a year earlier, and so had Mary, and thus, according to Carol, they might … Darlene sighed, and sat down at the chair next to Ron. She smiled at him, but he was again looking down to his feet and did not seem to notice. She didn't quite know what to say. What was she doing here? She took a sip from the wine that got larger than intended. She felt the drink arriving in her stomach and rising to her brain from there. Carefully she set down the glass on the floor, underneath her chair. But the stupid bowl of soup was still was still in her other hand. She should eat it, and then probably just get away. Ron quite obviously wasn't interested in talking to her. Maybe she could find Adam and let him talk to her – from what she remembered he was happy as long as someone listened to all he had to say. She ate hastily, until she suddenly noticed a bit of soup dropping down her chin. How embarrassing. And of course she had forgotten to take a tissue with her from the kitchen. She gave Ron another glance from the side, he was not looking towards her still. Good. Darlene started to search for a tissue in her pockets. "Can I perhaps help you out with one of these?" Darlene looked up in surprise. She hadn't expected him to suddenly speak to her. Ron was waving a packet of tissues and smiling disarmingly at her. She wasn't sure if it was the fact that she couldn't even eat without making a mess, or his smile, that made her blush. After a moment she managed to stutter a "Thank you" and took one of the tissues to clean her face. "Well, you are quite welcome. I bet our hosts will be thrilled to see that we finally live up to their expectations and talk to each other … Darlene, was it?" "Yes …" She still needed a moment to get over her embarrassment. "It's pretty much Carol's favourite hobby … Have you known her and Roger for a long time?" "Oh, Roger and I go way back … school actually, but I haven't seen him for a few years until very recently. I haven't been that sociable lately, so you must forgive me if I am bit rusty on the small-talk front … And you? Do you know them for a long time? You are a friend of Carol's aren't you?," he enquired. "Well, we've been working together for four years now. She organizes Valentine's parties every year … Somehow she talks me into coming every time, even though I am not much of a party person." "Oh, so we have something in common already, I am not really the party animal either. But really, I am glad she managed to get you here this time again." "Thanks," she smiled. 'Well you are definitely not the only one who isn't good at small talk,' she thought to herself while wrecking her brain for what to say next. "So, is Ron short for Ronald?" she finally asked. He looked somewhat amused, when he retorted, "No, not Ronald … it's Theron actually, the heritage of the Greek side of my family. My mates at school used to call me "The Ron" or just Ron … coming to think of it, nobody ever called me Theron except for my grandmother … I think she is to blame for the name in the first place." "That is a nice name … Theron. Does it have a meaning?" "Yes, of course. It means: The hunter, but don't worry, I am not here in an official capacity relating to my name." Darlene smiled. "Hunter … That is an interesting name. Actually, I am quite fond of hunters." "Hey, I found someone who actually appreciates me. So the evening is picking up already. Would you be totally embarrassed by the way, if I told you that they haven't exaggerated - you are every bit the ravishing beauty and great personality they advertised you to be …" Darlene blushed. "Thanks … Though I suppose you can't have seen much of my personality yet …" "That is something we can rectify in the course of this evening I suppose," he beamed and raised his glass a little before he drank, never taking his eyes off her. She had put the empty soup dish onto a chair next to her, and now searched with one hand for her wine glass under her chair. When she found it, she took another large sip, to get some time to think about what to say next. "Well, I see your glass is almost empty too - I was about to get myself another one - can I help you to another glass of white wine too, or maybe something else?" "White wine would be great. Thanks!" She handed him her empty cup, and looked after him as he made his way to the kitchen. Strange guy. At first he had been so quiet, almost as if he hadn't wanted to speak to her, and then all of a sudden he had changed his behaviour completely. But somehow just this intrigued her. There was something about him. He almost reminded her … Oh stop it! You weren't going to think of him any more, remember? She smiled to herself, remembering the things he had said, when she noticed that the girls to her left, the ones that had been trying to get Ron's attention earlier on, had stood up and were making their way to the kitchen. One of them turned around and shot her an angry look. She watched the various people at the party for a bit – some of them friends, acquaintances, colleagues, others of them people she didn't know. It was still early in the evening, but most of them seemed to have had more than a few glasses to drink already. Then suddenly Ron stood in front of her again, two glasses of wine in his hand. She hadn't noticed him approaching, but smiled as soon as she saw him. "Looks like we have some catching up to do … some of the chaps and girls are way ahead of us, drink-wise," he said when he handed her the glass, "Sorry, the glass is a bit too full … was even fuller initially, when I left the bar. I think now it will all come screaming back to Roger, why he didn't invite me to his parties any more … " His smile was a blend of boyish glee and raw seduction. "Well, when I look at you, I think drink isn't the only thing I have missed out on lately … Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself …" Darlene grinned, and took another sip of wine. Already, she could feel a light spinning in her head, but maybe that was more Ron than the alcohol. She felt more at ease than she had with anyone for a long time, though, and even though she didn't particularly like talking about herself - she was convinced that her life was the most boring one there was - their conversation grew more and more lively. It was getting close to midnight, when she finished her fifth or sixth glass. Her cheeks felt hot as they always did when she drank. She suddenly noticed that Ron was sitting a lot closer to her than he had before, and that when he was talking she had trouble focusing on what he said. Rather, she kept watching his mouth, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. Ron had stopped talking, and for a moment Darlene's thoughts started to wander. The touch of his fingers surprised her, when he brushed a strand of hair out of her face. Darlene felt her heart beating wildly, her face was glowing, and she was sure this wasn't just the alcohol. There seemed to be something mysterious to his expression, to his dark eyes, something that made her wish she could read his thoughts. Then, he smiled and she returned his smile. "I hope I didn't startle you there … well, I don't know how you feel about this, but I don't think I want to stay much longer at this party … Actually, I'd love to be someplace a little more quiet and with less people around with you … what do you think?" For just a moment, Darlene hesitated. After all, she barely knew the guy. Then again, he was a friend of Roger. "Yes, it might be nice to get away from here. But you know, if we leave together, Carol is going to never again shut up about how she …" she hesitated, "how she managed to set me up with someone. I told you, it's her hobby …" "You are absolutely right, we shouldn't give them the satisfaction … How did you get here anyway? I have my car outside, and be assured I am not too drunk to drive you safely anywhere you want. If you want, I could leave first and wait for you outside …" "Hm … sounds good. I walked, my place isn't very far from here. I suppose if we drive just there the chance of there being any kind of control isn't that big either …" She had another sip from her glass. "So, I will be outside in twenty minutes. How do I find your car?" "It's a white Ford and I parked it just around the corner. I will leave it running, so it'd be even easier to find. Oh, well, your place sounds like an excellent idea. You shouldn't walk home on your own in any case, God only knows what weirdoes are out there …" "You don't have an idea how right you are about that," Darlene's expression grew serious, "I haven't really told anyone, but I think I am being stalked." "Stalked? Really … " His expression was a mixture of amusement and bewilderment, but he quickly continued, "All the more reason you shouldn't be on your own." He got up and quickly kissed her on the brow. "For our audience … so I have to find Roger and Carol and say my good-byes … and see you outside then …" "See you soon!" Darlene made her way back to the kitchen to get another glass of wine and pass the time until she was going to leave by listening to another one of Adam's speeches. She had to repress the urge to check for the time every other minute, but eventually it was late enough, leaving now wouldn't wake any suspicions on Carol's side. She went into the bedroom to get her coat, and then searched for her friend. It wasn't hard to find Carol, she was standing in the middle of the living room and looked quite drunk. "So what about Ron?" she asked straight away. "What about him?" It took all of Darlene's concentration to keep a neutral expression on her face. "Well, he left the party about half an hour ago," Carol explained, "Didn't say a word about you. And I was so sure the two of you would get along great. Didn't I see you over there in the corner talking to each other for quite a while?" "Yes, we chatted a bit. He's nice, but in the end I don't think he is my type," she grinned, "Sorry, Carol." Carol's look seemed truly disappointed, as she hugged Darlene good-bye. "Maybe next year," she said, "My Valentine's parties have a reputation to keep, after all." Darlene smiled. "Give it up, I am a lost case. But see you at work tomorrow." With that, she left, her heart beat increasing with every step she took away from Carol's apartment towards where Ron would have his car parked. Ron used the spare time he was waiting for her to throw away some trash and place his rucksack on the back seat. She wasn't supposed to look into it, that'd be spoiling the surprise. After all, it was her Valentine's present. The running engine of the car slowly warmed up the interior. Although the time passed slowly until she eventually emerged from the door, he was not nervous at all. Everything was working out exactly as he had planned it. She was even paranoid about being stalked. Well, he would have enjoyed doing that, but since he spent the allocated time for that in the hospital, he had not got around to it. The Element of Fear He was pleased with himself and the way the evening shaped up for him. She still looked a bit uneasy, but for the most part, the alcohol seemed to have scattered her misgivings. Darlene told him about how she had thrown Carol off their trail, which amused and satisfied him far beyond her comprehension. She really did live close by, so they arrived at her place quickly. She swaggered a bit to both sides when trying to get her keys out of her purse and Ron calmly touched her hips to support her. He could feel her arousal and his own. It was a large house with a massive staircase and no elevator as she apologetically remarked. "Nah, don't worry about it … I am in good shape. You have to be … as a hunter." "Hunter … yes … I knew it was you … the similarities …" "What do you mean? My name means hunter, have you forgotten it?" She looked embarrassed now. "Sorry, yes … I was thinking about something else." He smiled at her and looked straight into her eyes. "Well, who knows … maybe you weren't that far off with your guess … which reminds me … shit, I have forgotten something in the car. Can you give me your key, so that I can get back inside?" "Oh, you could simply put the wedge in that is lying next to the entrance door – my flat is two more flights up, I'll wait for you up there …" "Ok." He ran down the stairs, and found the wedge at the place she had indicated. As calm as he had been before and surely looked like at the outside, the excitement now started to take hold of him. He quickly pulled the rucksack from the back seat, when a fierce blow to his head made him lose his balance. He managed to have a glimpse at the attacker, a tall, brutish looking figure, before his legs refused to support him and he lost consciousness when his head hit the car on his way down. *** She could hear his footsteps echoing in the staircase, then she heard the door downstairs open. After that, it was quiet. It took Darlene a few moments to unlock the door of her apartment: Somehow the key wasn't cooperating, and the lock seemed to be moving around. Once the door was open, she just left the key in it, and remained standing in the half opened door, to wait. She had to hold on to the doorframe a bit. Only now that she was alone, she realized how drunk she was. 'A glass of water might be a good idea,' she thought, but somehow she couldn't build up the resolve to enter the apartment and get one. 'How long does it take to get something out of the stupid car?' she wondered, while staring at the dark window halfway down the stairs. Then the light went off. Darlene had never been particularly fond of darkness, but the switch was flickering orange not far from her. Carefully, since the dizziness she felt had grown in the last minute, she took a step towards it, reached out, and … … She felt someone grabbing her from behind and pulling her away from the light switch. Before she could scream, a hand was pressed over her mouth, an arm was put around her neck. Darlene's heart was beating wildly, as she felt a body press into hers. Then, there was breath at her ear and she heard a hoarse voice whisper "Don't forget the element of fear." Ron? Was it him, after all? It wasn't just fear any more, that let her heart beat. But why hadn't he said anything? What, if he … 'He's a friend of Carol and Roger,' Darlene reminded herself. And besides, he had told her he was a cop, he had told her so himself. Darlene decided to trust him, and when at the next moment his hand let go of her mouth, she didn't scream, she just whispered: "Ron? Wow! I should have known … Why didn't you tell me?" He didn't reply, though, but instead pushed her into the dark apartment. Some light was coming in through the windows, and she wanted to turn around to him, see him. Before she could, though, he put something over her eyes, something that blocked out all light and left her in darkness. Then, the sound of the door closing and the light being turned on. He still wasn't saying a word, but she could tell that he was standing right next to her, she felt his presence. For a few moments both of them remained motionless. Then his hands were there again, taking off her winter coat, then her sweater; her shirt. His movements were quick while he did so, rough in a way, yet careful not to hurt her. When she felt his hands at her trousers, she tried to move away – more to see his reaction than to really escape. Before she could realize what was happening, he had grabbed her wrists – this time it hurt a bit – turned her around, and was again pressing her body against his. When one of his hands returned to her trousers, she kept still. A moment later, he let go of her, and she stood in front of him only in her underwear. She had turned down the heating before leaving to the party, and the cool air in her apartment made her shiver. He took hold of her wrists again and led her to her bed, pushed her down onto the mattress. The next moment he was above her. The heat of his body helped against the cold, but she was still shivering. He pulled her hands above her head, and she could feel a coarse rope being slung around her left wrist, cutting into her skin a bit. He secured the rope somewhere, on the bed frame she assumed, then proceeded to do the same with her right arm. After that he moved away from her, and the cold air swept over her again. Darlene tried the move her arms just a little bit, to feel the resistance of the rope. She couldn't move her hands. "Ron?" Somehow Darlene felt she needed to hear his voice, needed for him to assure her that it was really him, and that he would stop if she wanted him to. However, he didn't reply, and the fear this caused her did only make her arousal grow. He was there again, undressed now, and she felt his mouth on her breast. His teeth caught her nipple; she drew her breath in through her teeth with a sharp whistling noise when he bit her. His hands were exploring her body carefully at first, but soon his grip became rougher. Darlene wondered if she wasn't getting bruises, if it was this she had wanted, if she should ask him to stop. He lay on top of her, and started pushing her legs apart, when another thought appeared in her mind. "Ron …," she said, trying to focus on a clear thought through the fog of alcohol, arousal, and also a slight fear, "I know this might be a slight dampener on the atmosphere, but …" a moan interrupted her words as he bit her again, this time in the neck. He seemed to not even hear her words. "Ron, we do still need to use a condom," she said quickly, "There are some in the drawer by … " He didn't react, and she felt him moving his hand to his cock, to guide it to her entrance. Quickly, Darlene tried to turn away, calling out his name again. It came out more fearful this time. And just as quickly he had grabbed her legs, she felt his fingernails cutting into her skin, while he held her in place. "Ron, wait!" Why wasn't he reacting? Don't forget the element of fear. The words formed in her mind. Right, they had a safe word, she needed to use it. "Fear." It felt awkward to pronounce the word, it seemed out of place somehow, as she almost whispered it. Then, she found some more courage, and spoke louder. "Fear!" He still didn't react. She could feel the head of his prick pushing into her. "Ron!" there was panic in her voice now, "What's going on? Ron!" The blindfold was removed from her eyes suddenly, the bright light of the lamp above her blinded her for a moment. Then she saw the face somewhere above her, an ugly face covered with acne scars and beard stubbles, with watery blue eyes that bore a cruel look, and very short hair that started growing almost immediately above the thick eyebrows. This was about as far from Ron as anyone could be. She couldn't even scream, or try to push him off her. She could just stare at him with eyes full of terror and disbelief, as he said with what seemed to be meant as the caricature of a smile: "Sorry, I'm not Ron. Eric's my name, pleased to meet you." Then he entered her with one forceful thrust, and without leaving her any time to get used to the invasion, started pumping into her. The force with which he was shoving into her, the feeling of him almost tearing her apart awoke Darlene from her trance. She started screaming, kicking with her legs; trying to push him off her. The strange guy leaned his body closer over hers, his weight almost crushing her, and again he felt his breath at her ear, heard his hoarse voice whisper, "No chance. You just get what you wanted." Her cries became a helpless sobbing, she felt tears running down her cheek, as he grinded his body more slowly against hers, his cock buried deep inside her. Then he took up pace again and his breath got quicker. Soon it would be over, would she be free then? Darlene closed her eyes, she just wanted him to stop. He started to utter short moans, and she could feel the first spurt of his seed inside her – when suddenly the weight from his was body gone, and she felt some of his semen land on her. Opening her eyes, she saw the strange guy's body being thrown against the wall by something – someone, away from her. Someone she knew. Ron. *** 'Wet. Why is my face wet? That is … blood. Head-wound.' The accompanying pain spoke volumes. Only very gradually Ron returned to consciousness. His car; he was lying in the back of his car. Someone had struck him down. His hand mechanically searched for his gun in its holster. Gone. Whoever struck him down was even more dangerous now. Ron sighed when he noticed the briefcase. A quick look inside reassured him that he wasn't quite as unarmed as the other guy might think. All his instincts told him that this had to do with her, that somehow someone came right in the midst of their game. A quick check of his pockets revealed that he even left him his car keys. Bloody amateur. Ron opened the door and got out of the car. He felt a bit dizzy, but it wasn't any major impediment. His head had suffered harder in these past weeks. The wooden wedge still kept the front door ajar. If his attacker really wanted to take advantage of that situation, that was very short-sighted. Ron stormed up the stairs, until he reached the floor where her flat was supposed to be. He noticed immediately that there were keys in the lock on the apartment door on the left. He pressed his ear against the door, but only a low moaning or murmuring was audible. He cautiously entered the flat. His guess was right. Someone else had helped himself to his prey. Big mistake. And from the familiar look of his back, not only to that, but to his other belongings when intruding into his home. In any case, time to settle this little matter of ownership. Ron took a small end of rope out of the briefcase and approached the stranger who was too engrossed in his experience to notice him. Ron made a point by breathing into his neck twice before slinging the rope around it. With all strength he could muster he pulled as hard as he could and used his entire body to support this move. The brutish fellow had a very muscular neck, maybe he was a rugby player after all, most others would have snapped under this force, but Ron established enough momentum to smash the guy head first into the next wall. The man collapsed and sank to the floor. Ron went over to Darlene to reassure her. "Bear with me, my love. I will be with you in a jiffy. Let me first take care of our uninvited guest." He returned to the man who was in the process of regaining consciousness. The rope was still around Eric's neck. Ron grabbed both ends and started pulling. Eric's eyes opened and protruded already from the onset of the struggle for breath and life. "Well, well, well. What have we here? Poaching in my territory? Sniffing around my hard drive I suppose? Big mistake." Eric's mouth was wide open, but apart from a stifled gargling sound nothing escaped his lips. "I am so glad you joined our little party. Hope you don't mind when I cut our quality time together here short, do you?" Eric was in no position to answer. His whole body thrashed and convulsed in the last death throes. Then it went limp. Darlene, who had observed the scene first with relief, then with mounting anxiety let out a shriek when she realised what she had just witnessed. "Ron … you … you killed him." "Hunters kill. And he deserved it. Oh my dearest. What has he done to you?" Ron came over to her and sat down next to her head. He smiled reassuringly, then kissed her on the forehead. "He cannot hurt you now any more. It's just you and me. And a present of utter sweetness that I brought for you … Happy Valentine." A dreamy, melancholic expression appeared on his face. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date:" *** Darlene's relief was slowly replaced by renewed panic. She had believed herself finally free, and even Ron's brutality towards the rapist didn't shake that belief – after all she had felt quite an urge to revenge herself in a similar way. Now, all she wanted was to get the necessary call to the police and all that involved behind her, and then take a long shower. And be by herself so she could cry all she wanted. "What are you doing?" she interrupted Ron, trying to not let him hear how much his behaviour unsettled her, "Hurry up, untie me, please." Ron's face distorted into a mask of mock indignation. "Now my sweet prey really disappoints me … I took you for a cultured person, a lady who might appreciate the fineries of life with me … like good literature. And so much more …" For a moment the room seemed to disappear in front of her eyes. Did he really just say that? Was she awake? This couldn't be, not after all she had already gone through. It took Darlene a few moments to gather the strength to speak again. "But Ron, what do you mean? How …" She felt tears welling up in her eyes, one was running down her cheek, it felt strangely hot on her face. Too real for a bad dream. "Why are you crying my little prey?" his melodious voice was dripping with cynicism, "You are all the same, confused about what you want and scared when you are going to get it. But I will help you remember …" His hands stroked her wet face, he picked up a tear with his finger and licked the drop of its tip. Darlene tried to turn her face away from him. She could still see the same features that had attracted her so much at the party, but it seemed like a different life. All she felt now, looking at him, was fear. She was scared of him to touch her, even if it was just his fingers touching her face. He gently turned her face back into his direction and placed a piece of chocolate on her lips. His eyes gazed at her with the same dreamy melancholy that almost had a quality of innocence. "Don't worry my little prey. After the ordeal with that … amateur, you deserve to be treated to the most delicate sweetness - for that is what you are to me." Realization dawned on her face, it made her almost feel a bit more secure – not safer, but at least she believed to know what was happening, what she was facing, and the words just blurted out of her mouth before she could stop them: "You are crazy. You are absolutely mad. Let me go now, and I promise I won't ever tell anyone." "Oh you won't. And crazy … mad? Because I give you what you want? Because I'm going out of my way to make this Valentine's Day special for you? Open up … let the sweetness return to our little tête-à-tête." Ron's fingers pressed hard on her jaw and forced it open. She wasn't expecting him to do that, and opened her mouth almost without resistance. The sweet taste of the chocolate overwhelmed her for a moment. It didn't seem to fit with the moment, with her fear, it tasted too real. She tried to concentrate on the sweet taste, forget all around her, but the painful presence of his fingers on her jaw made her return to reality. His eyes beamed with an odd glee as he made her chew on the piece. "That's it, my sweet little prey. Now, don't swallow … open up again … we will need this to anoint you." Before she could protest he forced her mouth open again and dipped two fingers in the creamy melange of nougat and saliva. His eyes feasted on her expression of terror and disbelief. Ron's hand moved swiftly between her legs to smear the brownish substance on her mound. "For this part of our journey, you will have to forgo the accompanying bliss of words from the great poet …," he snickered. With these words he climbed onto the bed and settled between her legs. She tried to wriggle away and close her legs, but his merciless hands would not allow it, as they dug deep into the flesh of her thighs to force them apart. He made exaggerated sounds of delight as his tongue slowly traversed up and down her labia. Darlene calmed down a bit, she stopped trying to move away. Whatever he was planning to do, so far he hadn't hurt her, and the touch of his tongue awoke feelings deep inside her that made her fear retreat into the background, at least for a few moments. Ron's tongue trailed up and down lapping up the sticky substance to the last remnant. "Sweet, so sweet …," he muttered and continued to lick her for a short while longer. He toyed with her clitoris, but then suddenly commenced a kissing trail up to her belly button, where his tongue darted in and lingered for a few seconds. He watched her attentively when he reached her breasts and calmly started to nibble on each of her nipples. A slight shivering went through Darlene's body, she saw him looking up at her, the same dark eyes that had fascinated her so much. And yet, she remembered, she didn't want him to touch her, she wanted to get away from him, from all that had happened before. Her body seemed to think differently from her, it liked the attention he spent to her breasts. At the last moment she could repress a moan that wanted to escape her mouth. She gazed at him, still not able to comprehend what was happening to her. Her mouth was slightly open but no protest escaped her lips. He moved even further upward, attempting to kiss her, but she managed to rip herself out of her suspended animation and averted her face. Smack! It took a few seconds before the pain registered in her brain: A blow into her face had made her head hurtle back on the pillow, everything had gone first white, then black in front of her eyes. When she opened them again, it took a few seconds for her to focus. His face was right above hers, his hand that had hit her, still hovering in the air above her. The echo of a scream lingered in the room: Her own scream, followed by an almost unbearable silence. Ron placed a finger on his lips and seemed to listen into the silence. Without ever taking his eyes off her, he slid down her body. He pressed his erection against her pubic bone, then slowly drew his pelvis back making her feel where he was heading. Just before the tip of his penis reached her labia, he pulled back the foreskin. The head was slick with pre-cum. He slowly rubbed it up and down her labia, then poised it right at her entrance. "Th'expense of spirit in a waste of shame. Is lust in action, and till action, lust" The last word was drowned by her second scream, as he entered her with a single thrust. His voice gained dramatic momentum when resuming his recitation, violently lunging into her as an emphasis for each word. The Element of Fear "Is perjured … murd'rous … bloody … full of blame, … savage … extreme … rude … cruel … not to trust … " Darlene's screams faded into a quiet whimpering. Her insides still felt torn from what had happened earlier, it was as if he was stabbing into an open wound. Somewhere through the fog of pain and terror she heard his voice, the familiar words, expecting each new one of them, and with it yet another wave of agony that seemed to rip her body apart. Ron's face lit up in a obscene mixture of bliss and cruelty as he continued his recital with greater speed, until only isolated words accompanied her utterances of pain and anguish. "… on purpose laid to make the taker mad." For the second time his hand exploded into her face, leaving a bright red imprint on her left cheek. "Mad in pursuit and in possession so … " His voice trembled a little as he drove his cock faster and even harder into her. Soon his groans and moans interspersed his rendition. His hands wandered to her neck; then clasped her throat. His fingers locked like a vice, she started thrashing and straining against the rope around her wrists as she ran out of breath. Somewhere in Darlene's mind it registered that the way she was thrashing around made her body even more accessible to him, that she was helping his thrusts to enter her even deeper, but that wasn't her main concern any more. The fear for her life was stronger than everything else, the wish to breathe erased all other thoughts. Then, suddenly, his grip loosened, air rushed back into her lungs. Renewed consciousness filled her body, and with it the pain returned. All her senses started to focus down there once again, at the feeling of being wrested apart. Eventually, when the pain started to dull somewhat, when her moans turned into a more quiet whimpering again, she felt his hands once more at her neck, her throat. He seemed to caress her skin carefully, slowly, before his fingers clasped around it once more, and everything was blurred out by the need for air. A need that got ever more urgent as her senses seemed to be dragged into a precipice of darkness – and once more ended with a sharp pierce of air into her lungs that jerked her back into consciousness. Ron allowed her to breathe again, giving her a few seconds to recover. Her whimpering was almost inaudible and even harder thrusts did not give him the satisfaction of a greater response. A fiendish grin appeared on his face as he halted and withdrew from her battered womanhood. He adjusted his position slightly and stemmed his body against her thighs. The hint of relief in her eyes transformed into fright when he pressed the head of his cock at her anus. "No … no … not that … please … fear … I told you … not there … please …" "Fear … you can't be afraid of a little pain?" "I am … Please … Don't do this …" Her panic renewed, Darlene tried to move away, to shift her body to the side, to not allow him what he was going to do. But Ron's grip on her waist immobilized her. She felt the pressure of his cock increasing, her muscles automatically closed even tighter, but slowly, patiently he increased the pressure little by little. She couldn't clearly make out whether the stinging she felt was due to him trying to enter her, or due to him already being in her. It just hurt, she couldn't imagine this ever to work. "Please … No … No, it hurts …" Her whimpering grew louder and less coherent. She felt a short relief when the pressure decreased and she heard his voice, whispering shushing sounds to her. "Hush my baby, this will feel so good in just a little while." The pressure increased again, she believed she could feel him slipping in slowly – she almost wished he would hurry, just to get it over with, just to end this constant pain. When he was buried deep inside her, he kept still for a moment. She felt him, felt how her sphincter clenched around him, but they were more relaxed now, it hurt a lot less when he – again very slowly – moved out again, and then back in. Ron could feel the even pressure on his cock. He only gradually pressed forward, bit-by-bit, easing his penis in further with a fair amount of strain, but really allowing her to get used to the feeling. He very slowly withdrew, relishing in her breathless attention, to enter her again quite easily now. To Darlene's own shock it did not only not hurt as much as expected – it even started feeling good. The thought, that this didn't fit with Ron's previous behaviour, that this was the prelude to something, made itself known somewhere in the back of her mind, but she pushed it away. Similarly she didn't allow herself to ponder on the question of whether it was wrong she was enjoying this, when her whimpers of fear started turning into moans of pleasure. She started anticipating his movements, wanting more, and without realizing so herself, she shifted her body to make it more accessible to him, to meet his movements. Up to this point, Ron had not pushed in that far. Her movement was the signal he had been waiting for. With one brutal thrust he wedged his cock in up to the hilt, hearing her gasp in surprise and distress. He thumped her as hard as he could, building up a staccato pace. The expression on his face was even more frightening than his actions. He imbibed all reactions to her torment with saucer eyes. Her screams were only encouraging him to become wilder, causing her atrocious pain, lacerating the tender membrane and opening the floodgates of agony. All feeling of wanting more, of pleasure, seemed to have left Darlene. His sudden change of pace was a shock to her. And yet, somewhere in the pain, somewhere underneath the feeling of being ripped apart, her arousal was still there. But whenever her screams turned into moans, he seemed to pick up his pace yet more, until her voice felt hoarse and all she could utter was quiet sobs. His breathing became more and more laboured. Sweat ran down his brow and from his armpits. He could feel the tension building up in his lower back. He erupted into her in a protracted violent spasm. Ron began touching her face almost tenderly for a second, then burst into a diabolical laughter. "With me, my love, all your confusion ends. You should be able to see yourself now, your rosy cheeks, sweet blossoms of our love," he observed with mock pathos. Ron moved to the top of the bed and sat down next to her. His fingers gently traced the path of tears streaming down her face. "And this my love is but the beginning. All this sweetness we are going to explore … together." He picked up the box of chocolates again. She seemed to weak to protest or resist when he placed another piece of the heart-shaped chocolates on her lips. Sweet. So sweet it stung on her tongue, before it mingled with the taste of blood that was there too. Yet, the taste of nougat and chocolate was familiar and reassuring … *** 19.Feb.2007 Burglary Or An Internet Romance Gone Wrong? The police department informs that there is still no trace of Darlene S. (26) who is urgently sought for questioning in connection to the murder of Eric T. (37). Ms S. was last seen at a Valentine's Day party, which she left alone at around midnight. After being absent from her workplace from the following three days and not answering phone-calls, a concerned friend notified the police. The police gained access to her premises, where the naked corpse of Eric T. was found. The autopsy revealed that Mr T. had been strangled. Since he had been linked to several burglaries, it was first assumed that he had broken into the young woman's flat and was killed in an ensuing struggle. However, further investigation revealed that Ms S. apparently used the Internet to become acquainted with men via a chat program. The clientele of this particular program is according to police sources exchanging fantasies about forced sex and rape scenarios. In respect to this matter the police urgently needs to reveal the identity of her last chat partner, who introduced himself as "hunterskill" in this environment. Although it is by no means certain that Mr T. in fact was "hunterskill", similar records on his laptop would indicate that this is the case. If you have any information concerning the identity of "hunterskill" or the whereabouts of Ms Darlene S., please contact your local police department. *** At an unknown time and place The need for air awoke her. Her feet instinctively searched for the position that would balance her best, that would bring most relief to the strain of her own weight on her hands, and, more importantly, her throat. They knew well what to do by now, her feet, and after only a few seconds shallow breathing became possible again. The air was cool and damp, she believed that it smelled of old stonewalls, like in a cellar, but she couldn't be sure. Darkness surrounded her, or maybe it was just that her eyes were covered. She had awoken like this before, she didn't know how many times. Sometimes she wasn't at this place, she knew that. There were vague memories of lying somewhere soft, or of warm water, or food. Of soft touches and something resembling friendliness, reaching out to her through her feverish dreams. But when she woke up again she seemed to always be back here – waiting for him. Waiting for what he would do. Fearing and anticipating it. He was right there, she could feel his presence, the warmth radiating from his body, right in front of her, his breath that almost touched her. A shiver went through her body in anticipation and fear of his touch. She would have liked to see him, to know what he was going to do, yet she was glad she couldn't. She would have liked to cry again, but it had been a while since she had managed that. When he touched her, it was gentle and tenderly: It hadn't started yet. She felt his lips, his tongue, kissing her, kissing her neck, wandering upwards, to her ear. Then there was his voice, murmuring softly: "You don't need to be scared any more, my sweet prey. I have arranged everything now. No one suspects anything, no one else will ever interfere with our love." A shiver went through her, when the words registered in her brain, as his tongue caught her earlobe. His hands were there too, now, roaming her body still with an almost unknown gentleness. That scared her more than anything: She knew they would make up for that in just a little while. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, "I am glad I found you; it was a good decision to keep you for a while. I am so pleased you have outlasted all your predecessors already. But in case it all gets too much, remember, we have a safe word." He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was louder, clearer, harder. "Of course I couldn't let you go, you must understand that. Matter of principle, a hunter doesn't just set his prey free. There is only one way for you out of here." His hands had moved down to her legs, he pushed against them, and for a few seconds her breath was cut off, as she struggled to find the right balance again. "Whenever you want … I hope it will still be a while, though. I wouldn't like to lose my sweet little prey." He had let go of her now, while her struggle for air turned into a more rhythmic breathing again. She could feel him standing in front of her, waiting, watching her. When would it start? What would happen this time? She wasn't sure whether she wanted there to be more time that she could just stand there, that she was still left alone, or for it to start now, so she could stop waiting, so she knew. There was a slight tremble in his voice, showing his excitement, when he spoke again: "Take all my loves, my love, yea take them all, What hast thou then more than thou hadst before? No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call, All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more … "