Paid to Be Hunted

To:

johnsmith54726@protonmail.com

From: anonymous7183@protonmail.com

Subject: Referral from Gracie

Mr. Smith,

I was referred to you for services by a dear friend of mine with whom you've worked in the past, Gracie. It is my understanding that you are incredibly professional in your work, discreet and skilled in your craft. I'm currently in the market for someone plying your trade for a very unique and delicate project, one that I suspect you have not had the opportunity to engage in prior.

I will pay handsomely for confidentiality and the utmost of professionalism. If you are willing to commit to this sight unseen, I would be grateful.

If you accept, there will be a parcel waiting for you at the place you and Gracie typically conduct business, two days hence, mid afternoon. Inside will be further details and a deposit. The deposit is yours either way, if only for your silence.

Regards,

J

*Meow*, Chloe, John's black American longhair asked, presumably at the strange expression on her owners face.

"I've gotten some awkward solicitations, Chloe, but this one takes the cake."

Chloe jumped in John's lap purring, rubbing herself across his chest before jumping up on the desk where his laptop, opened to this odd email, blinked at him. "I dunno, Chlo, this is odd, but if it were a cop they wouldn't go through this much trouble. And my interest is piqued. Why the hell not, huh?"

*Mrrrreow!* Chloe protested. John frowned at her, then picked her up and placed her in the floor. He had no appointments for the next several days, and that suited him. He made solid money in his chosen profession, and had worked hard to get to a place where he could be picky about his clientele. He knew Gracie well, he worked with her often. She had deep pockets and a solid head on her shoulders. It was unlikely she would refer an absolute kook.

John closed the laptop and padded over to his bed, dropping in and picking up the book on his nightstand. The day after tomorrow he'd see if he had a new client or a giant headache in the making.

To his surprise, the next 36 or so hours moved incredibly slowly. The more he thought about J's strange email, the more intrigued he was.

When 2PM on the designated day arrived, John pulled up to the Hotel de la Croix and left his keys with the valet, giving instructions to hold his vehicle there. Confidently, he strode up to the front desk and greeted the receptionist with a warm smile.

"Mr. Smith, a pleasure to see you as always!"

"Thank you, Frank. Likewise."

"Will you be joining us this evening? Your usual suite?"

Frank moved over to his computer and preemptively started typing away, checking the room's availability.

"No, but thank you, Frank. Actually, this is a little weird, but did someone leave a package for me today?"

"A package, Sir?" Frank asked, confused. John shrugged, and Frank excused himself to check the offices behind the desk. A few moments later he returned with a manilla envelope.

"Here you go, Sir. Is this what you were expecting?"

With a snort, John answered, "Honestly? I have no idea what I expected. Thanks, Frank," John said, taking the envelope in one hand and Frank's hand in the other, palming him a $100 bill.

"My pleasure, Mr. Smith. Have a wonderful afternoon."

John nodded and smiled, then turned to leave the hotel lobby. As he walked, he couldn't help but watch the other guests in the space, as if he might catch one of them keeping too long a glance his way. He noticed nothing suspicious, of course. It wasn't like he had any training in spotting that sort of behavior after all.

Trading his keys for another green note, John fired up the engine of his '68 Mustang and pulled out of the hotel drive, only to turn in to a parking lot a few blocks away. Killing the engine, he looked over at the seat next to him, the manila envelope looking back up at him.

He picked up the drab colored paper envelope and flipped it around in his hands a few times. All it said was "John Smith, c/o Hotel de la Croix" across the front in a block script. Flipping the envelope back over, he unwound the red string holding the envelope closed and removed its contents.

Inside was a photo of a woman in her late thirties with red hair, freckles and an athletic build as well as a sheet of paper with some words typed on it and a secondary envelope, thick and slightly heavy.

Carefully, he checked the contents of the envelope first, nearly jumping out his seat when he realized it was filled with hundred dollar bills. Some quick math told him this was likely twice his normal fee, and he recalled his mystery client calling it a "deposit". John put the envelope down and returned his attention to the note.

Mr. Smith,

My name is Jacqueline Saunders and I live at 10237 S. University Ave. in apartment 225. I tell you this because I would like to engage your services, but I have, what I would suspect, is a very unique request. I want you to stalk me, attack me and ultimately fuck me.

John put the paper down and blinked, staring out the windshield at nothing. What the hell? Was this woman nuts? He looked over at the cash filled envelope in the seat next to him and considered the trope of wealthy people and their nutty vices. But it also occurred to him that this Jacqueline was willing to put her money up first, a gesture of trust and respect. He looked back at the paper, now in his lap, then picked it up and continued reading.

Gracie says you are an excellent escort -- discrete, professional and quite skilled. It's the discrete and professionalism that made me risk approaching you with this. I have a career, wealth and find that plenty satisfying. While I have no interest in settling down with a man, I have desires nonetheless. And if I have the money, I may as well pay for the experience I want, no?

The thought of that chill in my spine of being watched by unknown eyes and the thought of being cornered, touched and used lights fires in the core of me that I desperately desire to have quenched. I believe you're the man to do it.

I don't want any details or hints. This must be a genuine shock to get the emotional and physical response I desire. If you agree to participate, simply reply to my email with the word "Accepted" and I will know the hunt is on. It's up to you to track me, find me at my most vulnerable and use whatever means necessary to take me.

If the day comes when we meet in person, I will know you through a challenge and response. Ask me if I have "my mind is at peace with all below," and I will reply "I bear a heart whose love is innocent."

Regards,

Jacqueline

Hurriedly, John stuffed the photo, letter and cash back in the manila envelope, started his car and pulled out into the road. His heart and mind raced, unsure if he was being fucked with in the most perverse way possible or if this woman truly meant what she said. The large wad of cash suggested the later, but who could know?

That night, John stared at his glowing laptop screen, it's cursor blinking back at his front lit face in the dark room. He sipped at his Scotch and stared, unsure what to write until he finally did.

To: anonymous7183@protonmail.com

Subject: Re: Referral from Gracie

Accepted.

He closed his laptop setting the room into complete darkness. Taking a final sip from his glass, John felt his heart race, but also felt a stir form in him. The more he thought about the idea of tracking this woman, hunting her, the more excited he became at the idea. He felt a little like a predator, a little like a secret agent and a lot like he was in for the most exciting gig of his career.

The following morning John exited and locked up his apartment before dawn. Given Jacqueline was likely in a high powered profession, he guessed she would likely be an early riser, getting started with the sun. His insulated metal cup filled with coffee, he set off to find a secluded spot near the address provided in his client's letter from where he could catch her leaving her apartment.

John parked in a small parking lot for some retail establishments across the street from the apartment building and slid low in his seat, watching. As the minutes ticked by, he felt more and more ridiculous. He had dressed in all black this morning, and even had with him a small camera and mini-binoculars set he had purchased the previous afternoon from a military surplus store. John felt silly, out of place and, if he was honest with himself, a little grossed out with the behavior. Regardless, he stayed the course.

His hunch paid off within the first hour and a half of his stake out, and a fire-haired woman that seemed to match Jacqueline photo stepped out of her apartment building and walked, held held high, a few doors down to a café. Several minutes later, she exited, waiting on the curb for several minutes before a black sedan pulled up she entered, the vehicle speeding off.

John synced the photos he had taken of his client to his phone from the camera while still reclined in his Mustang and flipped through them. Jacqueline's headshot hadn't done her justice. Her confident stride, perfect posture and custom tailored clothes made her drip with sex appeal. While John had found many of his clients attractive, especially since he had built his clientele, he couldn't help but be drawn in by Jacqueline.

Figuring he has several hours before his client would return, John drove off and ran some errands and had lunch before returning. He didn't expect a powerful businesswoman to return home until late, but he also didn't want to miss her, so he spent several hours waiting, and watching.

Shortly after 6 PM, the black sedan returned. Jacqueline exited, waived to the driver, and moved into the building. John moved his eyes to the dark windows of the second floor and scanned back and forth, waiting to see if any lit up. A pair did in short succession, and he saw a slim figure move between the rooms, back lit against the sheer curtains that hung.

Several minutes later, the lights went out, and John observed a figure leaving the building, a yoga mat tucked under it's arm. It was dark, but he assumed the figure had to be his mark. Risking possible detection, John started his engine after the figure had made their way further down the block and followed.

As his vehicle approached, the unmistakable luster of Jacqueline's hair lit up under a street light. He noted the direction she seemed to be headed, made a mental note, and went home for the night.

That night at his laptop, John researched yoga studios in the neighborhood he had surveiled, and sure enough there was one just another block up from where he had last seen Jacqueline. He made some notes, then made his way to bed, Chloe hot on his heels.

The next several days, John found different places to park to observe Jacqueline's comings and goings. She turned out to be a creature of habit, albeit a mesmerizing creature. Each morning, she had coffee at the same café, was picked up at the same time and went to yoga at the same place. If Jacqueline hadn't paid him to attack her, he worried that she was setting herself up just by her sheer predictability. Her weekend schedule changed quite a bit, but come Monday she was back on track -- business as usual.

Wednesday evening John parked around the corner from Jacqueline's yoga studio and waited for her class to finish. From across the street, he watched her say goodbye to her instructor and classmates and start her normal walk home. John checked his watch -- right on time.

There were fewer street lights on his side of the road, and he used this to his advantage, pacing his subject as she made her way home. While his primary goal was to look for dark alleys and unobserved corners along the route, he couldn't help but also watch the red-haired beauty march home.

John caught himself letting his eyes linger on the curve of Jacqueline's toned and lifted ass as it swayed with each step, tightly contained in her form fitting workout pants. His eyes traced up her body to the light blue workout shirt, the split between her breasts clearly evident from the top of it. So distracted was he by his own prey, that he accidentally scuffed a boot on a rock, causing Jacqueline to stop and look around. Faster than he thought possible of himself, John slipped into the darkened entryway of a building next to him, doing his best to hide in the shadows. He waited and watched as Jacqueline looked around and presumably decided she had been hearing things before continuing on her journey.

After silently chastising himself, John resumed his pursuit, forcing himself to focus on his task and less on the beautiful woman who had hired him to undertake it. Along the route, he made mental notes of several secluded locations along the way, and after he saw Jacqueline had made it safely into her apartment, he retraced his steps back to his car.

Mid afternoon the following day, John returned to some of the locations he had noted on his previous evenings adventure. In the day light, he did his best to non-chalantly check each location for cameras, windows and anything else that might spell disaster for him when he executed his plan. He found what he was looking for at the third location -- an alley between a warehouse and tire shop two streets up from Jacqueline's apartment. The tire shop had been dark the night before, and the warehouse appeared to be abandoned. Neither seemed to have security systems, nor were there windows between the tire shop and warehouse.

Looking around to see if he was being watched, John stepped down the alley towards a side door to the abandoned warehouse. He tested it, but it didn't budge. With a frown, he continued around the building. Behind the alley was a set of roll up doors attached to the building facing a currently empty parking lot. Several cigarette butts littered the ground, likely from the mechanics next door taking mid day smoke breaks.

With some effort and a lot of luck, John found one of the roll up doors to not be properly secured from the inside. He snuck under the door and let it fall behind him.

For some time, he saw nothing. Once his eyes adjusted it the lack of light, John took an accounting of the space. There were some boxes stowed here and there and a few crates, but not much else. And aside from some dust, the space was relatively clear -- no roaches or rats that he could see. His best guess was the place was only recently vacated.

Moving to the side door, John removed the dead bolt, unfastening it from its locked position. He made a quick circuit of the rest of the space, then secured the rolling door and exited through the side door. John had some more work to do today, and decided tonight would be the night.

John watched his prey confidently stride past on the way to her yoga appointment from across the street. Sure she was out of sight, he quickly moved to his alley way and checked his watch. Jacqueline was right on time, and now all he had to do was wait. From his back pocket, John pulled a dark balaclava and fixed it over his head.

After days of watching her, John recognized Jacqueline without even seeing her, knowing her from the cadence of her steps as she moved down the street. He glanced to a small mirror he had propped up at the edge of the alley, making sure there was no one behind his target. The coast looked clear, and John readied himself. He heard her left foot, her right... and then he reached out into the night and grabbed.

Jacqueline let out a small yelp as John pulled her off the sidewalk and into the alley, her tied up yoga mat tumbling forgotten from under her arms. He quickly lifted his hankerchief filled hand to her open mouth, jamming the makeshift gag in the open space. She fought against him, writhing against John's grip. It took all his strength to keep her restrained, her yoga classes clearly helping build her owm core strength.

With a firm hold, John started dragging Jacqueline back further into the alley, her fire red hair filling his vision and the sound of her kicking sneakers scraping against the ground beneath them. At the side door to the warehouse, he risked pulling his hand away from Jacqueline's mouth, needing his limb to open it. She screamed against her gag, but John had managed to push it down well enough to keep the noise from causing much of a stir in the quiet night. Hurriedly, he pushed Jacqueline through the door, and the slender woman stumbled forward into the dimly lit space. John then shut it behind them, locking the bolt before wrapping his arms tightly around the woman as she steadied herself on her feet.

"I've waited so long to feel your warm, fit body pressed against me," John said in a quiet, gravelly voice. "I've dreamed of this night; the night I got to shove my cock into you."

He felt a little silly after saying those words. They made him feel like a depraved version of Batman or something, but he had spent some time thinking about his client's... his *prey's*... request, and decided a little sinister dirty talk would add to the effect.

Jacqueline squirmed and protested through the improvised gag in her mouth. Keeping his left arm firmly around her midsection, John moved his hands to cup her breasts through the light fabric of her workout shirt. Beneath it and his captive's sports bra, he felt a slight bump where the sensitive bud of her nipple would be and pinched lightly. The overly familiar touch earned him a flare up of pain in his toe as Jacqueline's sneaker clad heel came down upon it. Reflexively, John squeezed harder and cursed in the red heads ear.

"You bitch! I'm going to make you pay for that!"

The threat was hollow, but the sound of his own words in his ears scared even himself.

John began walking forward, pushing the squirming form of his employer forcefully forward with him. A blanket had been laid over a stack of crates not far from the door -- part of his afternoon preparation -- and John was working his way towards them. With a final shove, he jammed Jacqueline's midsection into the edge of the foremost crate causing her to double over it. The jolt abruptly halted her attempted screams with the loss of her breath. John had to literally bite his tongue to keep from apologizing.

He paused for a moment to let his captive catch her breath, taking a moment to continue to taunt her.

"You thought you could sway that ass like you do and not attract attention? Huh? I bet beneath those fancy clothes you're just another princess who desperately want to get fucked by a real man, huh?"

Jacqueline's protests returned, and John let out a quiet sigh of relief. The blunt force hadn't completely robbed his quarry's ability to breathe. He ground his crotch into her rear, and he felt her recoil, trying to move further into the crate. He had her where he wanted her. It was time to make a move.

Securing her to the crate with his body weight, John gripped the front of the flame haired maven's tops and lifted them over her breasts, exposing her pale flesh to the cold, stale air of the warehouse. Her body reacted to the change in temperature near immediately, and her nipples became erect. John took the opportunity to tweak them between his fingers before moving on. More squirms, more protests.

"I'm going to have you now, Princess. I'm going to fill you, first with my flesh, then with my seed. And you're going to love it, aren't you?" he growled, finishing the statement with a dark chuckle.

He felt Jacqueline begin to shake as the sound of his zipper releasing echoed in the space. Sparing a glance at her face, he saw tears start to form at the corners of her eyes. John's gut felt as if a pit had formed in it. This game had gone too far, he had to make a change to the script.