by Jenika Snow
May 16th
I heard those footsteps again last night. I now know that it can’t be my imagination. I have debated calling the authorities, but what would I tell them? With no proof, I didn’t doubt they would tell me there was nothing they could do.
I could drive into the nearest town, but that is thirty miles away. Once again, whoever was outside just walked around the deck. I tried to gauge where they might have come from or what direction they were going when they left, but I couldn’t tell. My heart was beating too fast, and the fear I felt was suffocating. I also have to admit that underneath that fear was an arousal, a desire so strong I felt like my heart would explode in my chest. In my depraved mind I have thought about leaving my back door open, seeing if the stranger would enter. I scold myself continuously because I know that if it is an actual human and not an animal, they could very well be a rapist or a killer. Where would I be then? Dead with no one knowing where I was.
Maybe I should just leave, but in all honesty, I don’t want to. I love this place, could stay here for the rest of my life. I think I’m going to hike to Old Man’s Cave today. Maybe the fresh air will do me some good and clear my mind enough for me to figure out what to do if I ever do come face-to-face with this stranger who seems intent on haunting not only my dreams, but every waking hour.
I’ve just sat down under a towering tree, shaded from the sun that is beating down on me relentlessly. There was a truck in the parking lot, but I haven’t seen anyone walking the trail. I like being out here alone, only my thoughts to keep me company. Everything is so beautiful. The trees are so thick and tall they shade the abusive sun from sucking the very life out of me. Everything is so green and lush, so filled with life that it almost makes me tear up. As silly as that sounds, I can’t even begin to explain the beauty of this place.
Before lunch, I found this little waterfall nestled between two large boulders. I knew no one could see me, not the way the boulders were positioned. I was so sweaty that I decided to slip off my shorts and tank and go under the waterfall. I couldn’t help myself. Thank goodness no one was around because my panties and bra were so soaked you could see right through them.
The water felt great, crisp and clean. Despite the fact I knew I was alone, I couldn’t help the feeling that I wasn’t. It was probably just the isolation that had me on edge.
May 17th
I don’t know where to start. I guess the beginning is as good a place as any. I guess the best way to get everything out of my mind is to write down what happened and how I got in this situation in the first place. So, here it goes...
I left Old Man’s Cave after an hour long hike and headed back to the cabin. The sun was starting to set and I was thankful for the small reprieve from the heat. As I drove the ten minutes back to the cabin, I enjoyed the wind on my face and the fresh air in my lungs. When I pulled into the driveway I saw a large truck parked off the side of the road across from the cabin. When I turned off the car I didn’t get out of the car right away. I just sat there and stared at the truck. Looking around, I didn’t see anyone, but I knew that the most logical reason was that maybe someone was hunting, fishing, or even hiking in the woods.
After a moment, I brushed it off. When I entered the house, I just stood in the threshold, but the only word that came to mind was unease.
I set my bag down, and then used the restroom. Eyeing the shower longingly, I was just too tired to even attempt to clean off. I needed a nap desperately. When I stepped out of the bathroom, my heart stopped in my chest, and the air left my lungs. There, sitting on my bed, was the man from the library. Even sitting, he was huge. I should have screamed, but the only thing I could do was stare at him, wondering how a man could be so big, so muscular.
Blinking several times, confusion swirled within me as to why he was here. The fear I should have felt immediately started to unfold inside of me. I became petrified, mortified by his very presence, but even so, I was growing wet. His dark hair was disheveled, and the first thing that came to my mind was an image of him chasing me, his hair mused from the wind, his eyes hungry for me. God was I sick person. I swallowed and finally my brain started to work. He looked so non-threatening sitting there, a small smile tilting his lips as his eyes roamed over my body. Although I was fully dressed, I couldn’t help but feel naked before him.
“Hello, Anna.”
The fact that he knew my name wasn’t nearly as frightening as the way he said it. It was the same way a lover might whisper it. I shivered and flicked my gaze toward the door. My fight or flight instinct was screaming at me to move, to do something, anything. I knew I had to escape. I eyed him again, not trusting myself to speak. He outweighed me by at least a hundred pounds, but being smaller, I was undoubtedly quicker. I took off, not thinking any longer, just acting. Sprinting toward the front door, my life depended on it.
I felt his hands on me and a cry of fear rushed up my throat but stopped right before it escaped. He pulled me to a stop inches from my freedom. I sucked in a lungful of air to scream, but his big palm covered my mouth. He pressed me to the door, the wood cool against my now overheated skin. I felt his breath tease my ear, heard him panting…from excitement?
“I know you’re frightened, Anna, but I also know your cunt is wet.”
I would have gasped at his words if not for the fact that his big, warm palm was covering my mouth.
“You have nothing to fear from me. I won’t hurt you. I just want to talk to you, to offer you something.”
My breath accelerated and I was on the verge of tears.
“I’m going to remove my hand and I don’t want you to scream, okay?”
The feeling of his thick chest pressing against my back reminded me how huge he was. I nodded, knowing that until I could figure out a way to be free I would have to play by his rules. Slowly, he removed his hand and I sucked in some much needed air. He moved away from me, and I felt the chill in the air and started to shiver.
“Look at me, Anna.”
I turned around and stared at him. My throat was so dry and my heart was beating so fast. Tears slipped from my eyes, and I wished I was stronger, wished I didn’t show him how he affected me.
“Oh, Anna. You have no reason to cry.”
“No?” The word came out as a croak. “What do you want? Why are you here?” I hated when he smiled, hated how he was so attractive and exuded confidence. I loathed myself for becoming aroused, becoming wet and achy by what was going on. What was wrong with me? Why did I feel these things, want these things?
He lifted his hand, an offering for me to take. “Come here.” I didn’t move, couldn’t. “Come here, Anna.” His voice became firmer, and I took a step forward. The last thing I needed to do was piss him off. I eyed his open palm and hesitantly slipped my hand into his. His skin was warm and dry, and I could tell he was truly calm.
He pulled me closer and I tensed, fearing what he might do. I stood stiff when I was close enough that he could wrap his arms around me. I was surprised and fearful as he wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace. I didn’t know what he planned on doing. His big hands smoothed over my back, just the lightest of touches that did nothing to tame my arousal. I didn’t know this man, but here I was, my pussy soaking, my nipples hard.
“I knew you would feel like this, so soft, so giving.”
I swallowed and darted my eyes around, trying to find a way to evade him.
“Please don’t try again, Anna. At least not until you hear what I have to say.”
Surprised that he knew what I was thinking, I pulled back and stared up at him. “Please.” I licked my dry lips when his eyes met mine. “Please tell me what’s going on.” He smiled, a small and gentle one that warmed me despite my best effort. My body didn’t feel like my own, and I began to feel the traitorous tendrils of desire wind tighter and tighter around me.
He dropped his arms and sat down. He patted the seat next to him. I sat down, farther away from him than I think he intended, if
the frown on his face was anything to go by.
“Anna.”
He said my name softly, almost reassuringly, but it sure as hell didn’t help how I felt. My hands were still shaking, and a light sheen of sweat coated my body.
“I know how frightened you are right now, but under that fear I know there is an arousal that is so deep and strong it takes your breath away.”
I wanted to ask him how he knew such a thing, how he knew what my deepest, darkest secret was. Maybe he saw the look on my face, or maybe this stranger, this beautiful stranger, knew me better than I knew myself.
“I guess I should start at the beginning, huh?”
I didn’t speak, didn’t move, just waited for him to do whatever it was he planned on doing. I wanted answers, of course, but I was so shaken, so petrified that everything he said seemed distorted.
“I’ve wanted to be here with you, talking to you, for so long.”
He reached his hand out and I flinched back. I curled into myself and eyed his outstretched hand with uncertainly. I flicked my gaze to his and saw the rapture, the adoration, reflected back at me. Never had I seen someone look at me the way he was gazing at me at that exact moment. It was unnerving.
The stranger dropped his hand and I saw a hard, unreadable look mask the adoration that covered his face. “You act as though you think I plan on throwing you down on the bed and raping you.”
“I don’t know you, don’t know what you’re capable of.” We stared at each other, neither moving, neither speaking.
“You know me, Anna. I can see your hesitance, your worry, and although I could tell you up and down that you have nothing to fear, I know it would fall on deaf ears.” He leaned back, the muscles in his arms and chest bunching.
“How do you know me?” I whispered, anxious to hear what he said.
“The first time I saw you was at Claudette’s.”
My breath halted and I felt my heart quicken. Claudette’s, the underground BDSM club. Oh God, someone had seen me, knew I had been there. This was bad, really bad. I had gone to Claudette’s, the first and only time a year ago. I had overheard some students in my class murmuring about it, divulging the wicked and explicit things that went on below the streets.
I should have never gone, but the dark appeal called to me, tightened its hold on me until I found myself standing in front of the main doors, ready to experience anything that would make me feel alive. No one there would judge me. Were they not at Claudette’s to feel the same thing I was? That, of course, was what I had told myself over and over again as I walked through the dimly lit establishment—seeing, smelling, feeling the excitement, fear and arousal in the air.
It had been the most daring thing I had ever done, and it had been an encounter I would never forget.
I panted, my body starting to perspire as I thought about that night and everything I had witnessed. We stared at each other and I wracked my brain trying to remember if I had seen him in particular that night. It was no use. There was no way I would be able to remember a single face. I had been too high on adrenaline and fear, too excited to take notice of specific faces around me.
I stared into his deep blue eyes and realization took hold of me. “Oh my God.” Those three words came out of me on a hoarse whisper, and I suddenly felt faint. His smile was grand and filled with satisfaction.
They called him Master Felix, Claudette’s most ruthless dominant. The look on his face told me he knew that I had realized exactly who he was. I had heard the whispers at the club that night. That he could make anyone submit before him. He didn’t even need to touch them flesh-to-flesh to make them wither and come.
“I can see you remember me now.”
I remembered him alright, so well that it took my breath away. The night in question came back to me with such force, my heart quickened. I saw the darkened room—the whips, chains, and leather. The scent of sex filled the room.
I had been wandering aimlessly around Claudette’s, taking in each activity, and growing more and more fascinated. I had stopped at a particular area in the club, one where a rather large and heavy muscled man whipped a restrained woman. His back was toward me, sweat glistening off the smooth golden skin. The spotlight above him slashed across his back, casting shadows along the ridges and contours of the power he held just beneath the skin.
I could see the scene in my mind so clearly that I found myself getting aroused. He had worn a pair of leather pants, the material hugging his ass like a lover's caress. I moved into a better position, one that would let me see the front of him. I sidled through the throng of people until I was able to see exactly what he was doing.
I remember how I had noticed the impressive, if not slightly unnerving bulge in the front of his pants. I had let my eyes wander up his heavily muscled chest, tendrils of sweat sliding down that vast expanse. The dim lighting glistened off the droplets of sweat. He held a whip, a cat-o-nine I believe they called it, and was steadily swinging it against a woman’s bare ass. His biceps flexed with the strain, the veins and tendons standing out in stark relief.
The woman before him withered against her restraints, her moans and grunts of pleasure so loud they seemed to fill the whole building. I watched, enthralled as he brought that leather whip across her ass, her pale flesh becoming a bright shade of red. Nine streaks painted her flesh each time the whip landed on her. Her legs were spread wide, her pussy cream sliding down her inner thighs.
I had seen her tense, saw how her nipples stabbed outward the same time she threw her head back and wailed out her orgasm. He continued to bring the leather down on her, the force became more potent the louder her cries got. I was riveted to him, his dark hair damp from his sweat and hanging across his forehead. The power he held within his body was so forceful, so potent and intoxicating, I found myself wishing I were that woman before him. It had been the most erotic thing I had ever seen.
Coming back to the present, I felt myself shaking as that memory replayed in my mind. We stared at each other and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realized who he was from the moment I had seen him in the library.
“I have a choice for you, sweet Anna.” His face had gone stoic with seriousness. “I saw your desire for the forbidden, the taboo, at Claudette’s. I see something in you, something so timid and submissive that it drew me in irrevocably.” His hand touched mine.
“You’re what I’ve been looking for, Anna. You are a true submissive in every sense. I’ve watched you over the past year, seen what lies within you and demands to be free.” He moved closer and I moved back. “You are not a prisoner. You have a choice. You can walk out of here and leave behind something that could awaken you, make you feel something that you have never imagined, or you can stay here and let me give you what you ache for and show you how good it can be to submit.”
The fact that he admitted to watching me, stalking me essentially for over a year should have made me feel violated, horrified even, but all it did was intensify the ache between my thighs. I could see the finality in his gaze, knew that everything he said is what I wanted. There were things I wanted in life, things from an unorthodox sexual relationship. I knew I couldn’t get that with just anyone. I looked at him, my heart still beating a mile a minute—my worries, fears, hopes, and desires all meshing into one so that I felt confused and overwhelmed. Could I really take what this man offered? Could I let myself submit fully?
I fantasized about everything he said, everything I had seen at that forbidden club. What if I couldn’t go through with it? What if the fantasy is why I wanted it and when faced with reality it wouldn’t be everything I hoped? Here I was faced with the option to have those desires handed to me, but the fear was almost too unbearable. The fear of the unknown was what held me back.
I shook my head and stood. I couldn’t be here, couldn’t do this. “I have to go.” I choked on my own words and turned toward the door. True to his word he didn’t stop me, didn’t even speak as I grabbed my car keys and ran out the fr
ont door. I got into my car and slammed the door shut, the air in my lungs rushing out of me in waves. All my stuff was back in the cabin, but I didn’t care, didn’t even want them. I had to get out of there. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think clearly.
I started the engine and tore out of there, the gravel spraying upwards like a fountain of realization. As I drove, I felt the hot wetness of my tears coat my cheeks. What he said replayed in my mind over and over again like a broken movie. I didn’t know him from the next guy, but here I was, wondering what it would be like to feel his hands on me. Would I be able to submit to the dominance and power he delivered? The images of what he had done to that woman back at the club coursed through me like invisible hands, and I felt myself shiver with arousal. I wanted him, but I didn’t know if I was strong enough to accept what he offered.
After pulling the car to a stop on the side of the road, tears blurred my vision. I didn’t cry because I was sad, I cried because I was frightened of refusing what he offered. Would I ever get a chance like this again? No, probably not.
I thought about how I would feel afterwards. Would the guilt be too much? Would I feel dirty, like I had done something immoral? I may dream about being subdued, being bended against someone else’s will. I may even touch myself as I thought about a strong man holding me down and making me feel alive, but when the opportunity finally presented itself I was running like a fucking coward.
I flipped my mirror down and stared at my pitiful face. I chuckled humorlessly and wiped the tears from my cheeks. I sniffed and strummed my fingers on the steering wheel and thought hard about what I should do. I knew what I wanted, and despite the fear of not knowing what to expect, I knew if I didn’t at least try what Felix offered I would forever regret it. This may be the worst idea of my life, but I wouldn’t know that for sure unless I let my inhibitions go and tried it out for myself.
Although I knew virtually nothing about Felix, I had heard plenty of stories about him. He could be ruthless, but he could also be a gentle giant. I was so fucking scared, and so turned on that I felt like I was being pulled in two different directions. Would he let me go if things got to be too much? He proved I wasn’t a prisoner by letting me run out of there like a coward, but would he let me go again once things started getting intense? I wouldn’t know for sure, but a small part of me wanted to test those waters.