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In to the darkest part of the night. An erotic thriller
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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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Hi guys. Part 1 of a new story based on a fantasy of mine. Hope you enjoy!
I lie there, heart pounding as the car speeds off. The darkness is more than just the blindfold placed round my eyes, there is no moon tonight. It’s always the same, always when the moon is at its darkest. I lie there for another moment, the gravel cutting in to my bare skin, gathering my thoughts gathering my wits, deep breaths in and back out slowing my heart rate, preparing myself for what was to come next.
It is always the same and always I go willingly, yet I never know who takes me. A different person each time, I can tell by the sound of the car, their smell, their breathing. Always men, this one I could smell his sweat, dank and bitter. The night is cloying, sweat beads and trickles down between my breasts, between my thighs. Just in those moments whilst I gather myself the heat of the night and the stillness, the silence, hits me and threatens to keep my stuck to the floor. |
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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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... I rip the blindfold off allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness, scanning around me knowing all the time he’s watching. This is the game, he can see my every move. I am hunting blind but I have to find him. Naked and blind.
Have you ever tried running silently in the pitch black? Don’t fucking kid yourself. You sound like an elephant, your breath roars and creatures of the night all laugh at you and your ineptness. You are nothing. But this is the game. I never know the location and now stretched before is what must be the wasteland. The distant lights of the city cast their orange glow on the horizon and then closer again the flickering lights of fires. The wasters and the junkies. This is new to me, this takes things to the next level and I smile to myself that he’s actually surpassed even my expectations. I know he’s watching, they’re watching, through night vision but at no point must I alert another human. Those are the rules and I must find him, although in the blackness of the derelict building he has chosen I will never be sure if it is him that takes me, as I give myself fully to have my prize, or just one of the others.
I have been training hard for this but still the gravel slices my bare feet as I try to run towards the city lights. My body is hard but still sweat runs down my skin, I would glow by the firelight if you saw me now, flames flickering off the curves and contours of my naked body. But I must not stray too close and alert those who I know would like nothing better than to feast on this body of mine. This is all part of it, my senses honed and screaming red alert, I want to sob and curse but I have to pull myself together, the fear brought on by the darkness and vulnerability. I must not alert them, the junkies sat round their fires, but I must pass them to get to my destination. The fear making the hairs on my arms stand on end, my nipples hard and erect in spite of the dead heat of the night... |
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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago
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mm very interesting ,cant wait to read the rest , so want to know what happens to the prey in the dark of the night, would the hunter gets to it, or does it escape |
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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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I can creep around them and I know deep down they are way too lost in their own sorrows and chaos to notice me at any point but if they do then I’ve lost the game.
The wastelands are the gravel pitts on the edge of the city, by day the trucks wheel back and forth, a hive of activity and noise. By night the silence is only broken by the d*unken laughing of the wasters and the screeches of the city foxes. The steep hills of gravel give shelter from the menacing stares but cut my skin causing me to gasp as I scrabble around the sides. I pause to catch my breath, wincing at the stinging on my hands and feet, he’s really fucking excelled himself this time. I want to stand up and scream at him, knowing he’s out there watching and waiting to see if I arrive on time. Yet all sense of time is lost out here. I have only myself to rely on and right now I feel I may just have taken on to much.
Do you have a kink? A perversion or a desire? I have too many to number but the thrill of hunting in the dark, seeking to find my prize outstrips all of them. Yet he shaped the rules to ensure the hunter felt like the hunted. Naked and alone trying to cross the city to find the derelict building he had chosen.
I hear them before I can see them, sheltered as I am around the side of one of the giant piles of gravel. I am an ant waiting to be crushed. The whining perhaps of a drone or maybe an annoying gnat you hear only as you try to sleep. The noise becomes louder and suddenly my fear shifts up a gear. The bikers, lads on their dirt bikes, escaping outwards from the city to a night of fun, caning round the dunes, their wheels skidding and sliding out beneath them as they criss-cross the wastelands bringing fresh chaos and fear in to the mix... |
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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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... I know they won’t harm me, but that is not the point. The point is not to be seen and my only chance now is to run around the back of the fires to the other side and sprint towards the edge of the main road that bisects the dead space and the space of the living. I want to cry out so badly as I slide back down the hill, my skin peeling under the sharp edges of the stones. It was always my idea to be naked. Knowing he waited to take me, hot and breathing hard from the exhilaration of it all.
I run. My lungs screaming, fear levels too high to function properly. The air roaring from me, my heart pounding desperate for my legs to work, to bypass the pain in my feet as I race across the darkness. It is only a quarter of a mile if that but I must sprint to get to the other side, aware always of the whining of the dirt bikes and the sliding of tyres as they make their way towards the clearing. Their lights flickering off the giant dunes, the junkies whooping and cheering, smashing bottles. I must not be seen. This naked woman, covered in blood and dirt, arms pumping as she runs, this is the excitement that I need to feel alive... |
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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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... I’m not sure when I started to feel nothing. Not now I mean, but before. Before him. Before the one. The day to day mundane hum of life, the cloying sweetness of vanilla served with clotted cream. Yet the moment he first came back to mine, turned the lights out suddenly when I was getting the wine from the fridge. That was the moment I began to feel again. He crept up behind me and clasped a hand over my mouth, pulling me close to him as I gasped for air, fear gripping me as I adjusted to the darkness until I felt his lips on my neck and his other hand slide down the front of my jeans in to my knickers and straight to the hot damp heat of my pussy. His fingers deftly feeling between the soft folds of my skin, in to the sweetness that lay beyond. His other hand reaching down to undo the buttons, his lips still on my neck as my breathing quickened. This virtual stranger had somehow switched me back on at the same time as he turned me on. He pushed me forwards over the counter, pulling my jeans and knickers down past my knees, spreading my ass cheeks until I felt his hot tongue push its way in to my tightest hole, his fingers reaching round to bury themselves in to my now wet pussy. As he came back up I could feel the hardness of his cock push up against me and in one fast move he had pushed me further forward and thrust his hardness deep up inside my pussy, gripping my hips with his hands as he began to thrust in to me in the darkness of my kitchen that night. Harder he thrust in to me until his hot cum exploded deep up inside me, and then just as quickly he pulled out and simply went to the fridge to get the wine, leaving me gasping for my breath.
And now here we are; the fear and shock of surprise taken to new levels just to keep me feeling alive. Feeling anything. Each time more strangers in the mix, more eyes on me, more risk. He crafted and played his role to perfection, each drop off point a carefully planned secret. I am wet with sweat under the heat of the night, my breasts and pussy exposed to whoever might see me, but if they see me I’ve lost. I no longer know who craves the game more, me or him? I have reached the main road and now must cross in to the city, think like a fox. Fearless and cunning. I duck behind the barriers as a lorry races past and then it’s time to run again, up over the barrier and sprinting across the road, desperate to not be caught. For no one to sound their horns or alert him in any way... |
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