I watch you all the time. I know where you work, live, like to do your shopping. I know what your schedule is every day, every week. So predictable. People really should take better care of their lives and be more aware of their surroundings.
Every weekday it is up at 6:00 AM, shower, quick bite to eat, out the door for work at 7:00 AM exactly. Lunch time is 12:00 noon to 12:30 PM, not enough time to get anything good to eat, so you take a quick walk around the park across the street from where you work. I have even passed you a few times, enough to look familiar, but not enough for you to be suspicious. You get off work at 4:30 PM, stop at the local grocery store on your way home to pick up food for that nights dinner. On Friday nights at 9 PM you set your garbage out at the curb of the street for Saturday morning pickup.
You watch the local news cast as you eat your dinner, probably pondering your existence in this ever increasingly violent world. You have no friends to speak of, no boyfriend, no relatives that you can call and chat with or visit. You think you are alone, but that is not the case. I had sneaked into your house through the outside basement door that you had forgot to lock. Don't worry, hon, I locked it when I was finished. Upon entering your home, I went straight to your bedroom and installed a small wireless camera in the overhead light above your bed. I watch you on a recorder with screen at the end of the street. You are the last house on a dead end street. I park my car in the shadows and wait for the show to begin.
Almost every night it is the same. You retire to your bedroom at 10 PM sharp. After going to bathroom and getting ready for bed, you lay down on your bed, naked, and start to look at a magazine. You like the true crime and rape magazines. Odd choice I think to myself. As you flip through the magazines, you start to play with your titties. They are average size, but I notice when you are aroused your nipples stick out about an inch. After pinching and pulling on them, you move your hand down to your pussy. While still reading you slide two fingers into your sopping wet cunt. You lift your fingers to your nose, and the pussy aroma makes your body squirm. You lick your fingers and again bury them in your pussy. You continue this exercise for half an hour. Fingers in your cunt, then lick them off.
After you cum for what I guess is the third time, you reach into the drawer on the nightstand beside your bed. You pull out an 8 inch dildo and start licking and sucking it. Damn I wish it was my cock. You insert it into your vagina, and begin a slow, rhythmic motion that you keep up for another half hour. You finally start thrusting it in and out hard, causing you to grab hold of the sheets as you near an earth shattering climax. You cum and I can see the resulting wetness on your sheets. You curse your life as you change them. Sometimes after you are finished, you will sit on the edge of the bed and bury your face in your hands as you cry, wishing things didn't have to be like this.
This is the Friday night that I am going to make my move and have you for myself. On Thursday after you have gone to sleep, I replace the light bulb on your porch with one that doesn't work, making it easier for me to slip into the house when you take your garbage out on Friday night. I masturbate twice while watching you perform for me Thursday night.
The big night has finally arrived. It has been a long day as the anticipation is driving me crazy. I arrive on your street and park out of sight. I get out of my car and move to the side of the house. I will have to be quick to get inside when you take your garbage to the curb. Your front porch is cement which will help eliminate any noise from my shoes as I scurry to get inside.
At exactly 9 PM, I am in position to get inside without you noticing me. I am wearing all black with a black mask and standing with my back against the house, not ten feet from where you will be coming out the front door. You open the door, flip the light switch which does not come on. You curse to yourself as you take your two trash bags to the curb, leaving your front door open. I wait until you are about half way to the curb, before I slip unnoticed into your house. I enter the foyer and go into the dining room that is on the left. I hide behind the wall that separates that room from the foyer and wait for you to return.
I hear you coming up the porch and into the house. You lock the regular door lock and also the deadbolt lock. Better safe than sorry. You head for the stairs in front of you, but as you reach the first step, I come out from the shadows and grab you from behind. You try to scream but my gloved hand is over your mouth and I am holding a knife to your throat. I tell you to be quiet and you will not get hurt. You continue to struggle and I smack my right knee into the small of your back. This takes your breath away and gives me a chance to strengthen my position. I put the knife away.
"Please don't hurt me, mister. I will do anything you want," you sob.
"Damn right you will," I barked, "now get your ass upstairs and don't look back at me. If you see my face I will have to kill you. Do you understand?"
"Yes, just don't hurt me," she was crying as she headed upstairs.
When we reached the top of the stairs, I take out a blindfold and cover your eyes with it. You don't struggle this time, making me grateful that I do not have to hurt you again. I lead you into your bedroom and order you to strip naked.
"What," you stammer, "what are you going to do to me?"
"Don't fucking worry about what I am going to do to you. You just do as you are told and I told you to strip naked. NOW, BITCH!!!"
You slowly undo your shirt, letting it fall to the floor. Next you unzip your pants and take them off. You are now standing in front of me in your matching bra and thong. I order you to take them off and you hesitate at first.
