Just a little something that sprang to mind the other day. Enjoy!
38 people in chat.
He smiled to himself and entered the chat room. He recognised several regulars who seemed to live on the damn thing, a few members who visited sporadically and a handful of new members. He was an old hand at this and quickly sifted out the guys and the guys pretending to be girls. That left three.
He made a mental note of their screen names.
He spent a bit of time bantering in the main room but it was all for show.
Rule #1: Don’t be the guy who turns up and immediately starts requesting private chat sessions and asking for feet pictures.
The newbies were chipping in now and then and he slowly aligned himself with their threads of conversation before zeroing in on a likely prospect: Blueskies92. He opened up a PM window
Snagglefish: Hi, you’re new here aren’t you?
He popped the top off a beer, took a long pull and sat back to wait. It took about five minutes.
Blueskies92: Yes.
He smiled to himself. It was the response that mattered, not the length of it. He cracked his knuckles and ran through a battery of innocent looking questions he used to screen out the fakers. For all he knew this could still be a guy. It took a while but he gradually coaxed out the information her required and satisfied himself she was the real deal.
She seemed relieved he wasn’t like a lot of sketchy guys who seemed to PM her out of the blue to get their rocks off. He confided in her that there were lots of those but there were decent people here too and she’d hone her creep detector pretty quickly.
He was careful to avoid anything sexual at this stage. This was about building trust and assessing her suitability.
Next to his laptop was a new notebook. He wrote ‘Blueskies92’ in neat cursive on the front cover and opened it to the first page. Over the next hour he made a series of notes. He also checked her profile, logged her personal information and post count. He then made his apologies and said he had to go out but he hoped they could speak again.
Rule #2: Leave first and don’t outstay your welcome.
Over the next week he tracked her activity on the forum, reading her posts and seeing who she interacted with. She was coy, sitting on the sidelines like the nervous new kid in school who doesn’t really know anyone yet or get any of the in-jokes but hopes to be included. He resisted going into the chat room whenever she did but after a suitable period of time he followed her in. This time he boldly PM’d her soon after entering.
Snagglefish: Hey, how have you been?
This time she responded in under thirty seconds.
Blueskies92: Hi there! Good thanks.
Her guard was lower this time. He was more playful and flirtatious in his chat and eventually she began to respond. He artfully steered the conversation to kink. He filled his notebook.
The next day he sent her a message which he signed ‘Jake’. A day later she responded, signing off with an initial, ‘L’.
He was nothing if not patient. Over the weeks that followed they began to chat for hours. The talk became overtly sexual. They swapped fantasies of bondage and tickling. Role playing was a natural progression. ‘L’ became Lena. Lena liked to be dominated and he was happy to oblige.
She was a pretty cheerleader. He was the captain of the football team, tying her up in the gymnasium after everyone had gone home…
She was a seductive spy. He was an enthusiastic interrogator, exploiting the sensitivity of her skin in a basement dungeon…
She was a babysitter with a thing for older men. He was an amorous father, lustily corrupting her with bondage and sexual tickling…
She added a few pictures to her profile on the forum. A selfie: early twenties, blond hair, wide eyes, full lips. Another camera photo: pulling a face. Now a clear photo taken by someone else: smiling, sitting on a picnic blanket wearing a sleeveless top, a summer skirt and oversized sunglasses. She was barefoot and hugging her knees, sandals visible at the edge of a shot. Comments racked up under the photos. U R Hot!...Show us ur feet plz!....Hey baby, love to tickle you!
Other photos arrived on email for his own private viewing. Lifting her t-shirt to show off her slender tummy. Barefoot, toes spread. Barefoot, shiny soled. He printed them out and pasted them carefully in his notebook.
A reverse image search found the picnic photo had appeared on a twitter account. He dug a little deeper. Lena had a surname. Lena had an address. Google maps, street view, direction finder. It was all coming together. He popped open a cold beer and saluted the monitor.
He read over their chats and looked at her photos while he masturbated.
He had booked either side of the weekend off work. It was going to be a long drive and he wanted to be fresh and rested when he got to his destination. He felt a surge of excitement as he imagined Lena’s reaction when he appeared out of the blue to make all her fantasies come true.
Everything was planned down to the last detail but there was always the possibility that she would not be willing to accept his overtures. He was prepared for that contingency. A soft cloth doused with chloroform was sometimes a necessary evil but one way or another, he would have his way.
He packed his equipment in an overnight case and loaded up his car. He didn’t use his main vehicle on this trip. He used a clunker he’d bought for cash. In case anything went wrong then there was nothing to link him to the vehicle.
He ate at truck stops along the way, a cap pulled down over his eyes. Just another guy passing through.
It was early evening as he hit town. A tingle of excitement started to build as he drove the streets of her neighbourhood. He had arranged a chat session with her so he knew exactly where she’d be tonight.
Her house was at the end of a country road. It was a little weatherboard place with a neat yard and a Japanese compact in the driveway. There wasn’t much activity on the roads which suited him fine.
His mouth was dry as he climbed out of his car. He left his bag in the car for now. He had a chloroform soaked rag in one jacket pocket and a length of rope in the other.
As he crept toward the house his cock hardened in his pants. There were no lights on inside the house save for a bluish glow coming from a side window: a monitor screen. That had to be her bedroom. He stifled an excited giggle and willed his hands to stop trembling. He could practically taste her. He walked towards the window and licked his lips. He wanted to see her unawares before he made his entrance.
He heard the faintest sound behind him and then there was a sharp crackle followed by a blinding, burning pain at the base of his neck. He fell to the ground, a twitching mess, unable to control his muscles. There was another crackle and a burning sensation in his side. Then he passed out.
His neck ached his side ached. He was spread-eagled on his stomach. Straps dug into his wrists and ankles.
A wave of panic and nausea washed over him. He tried to scream but his mouth had been packed with cloth and tightly sealed with duct tape.
He heard two voices behind him. Men’s voices. They were going through his stuff.
“Sheeeittt. Look at this. Leather straps, oils, feathers, a dildo with spare batteries.”
“ What kinda gag is this? Looks expensive. Sonofabitch even brought chloroform.”
“Lookit, he’s waking up.”
He tried to look around but his movement was heavily restricted. One of the men spoke to him.
“Hey Mr Snagglefish, bet you thought you were all set for a long weekend of bondage, tickling and fucking.”
“Well guess what, cupcake?” The other one added. “That’s exactly what’s gonna happen here. Jus’ probably not quite how you imagined it.”
There was harsh laughter above him.
“City boy.” One snorted. “Bet his skin’s real soft.”
Fingertips began to unlace his shoes.
“Never ceases to amaze me how easy it is to lure these dumb shits off the internets.”
He screamed frantically into his gag but it was too well sealed.
One of the men leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Don’t you worry. We’re gonna take that gag out in a while and you can scream all you want. Ain’t no-one gonna hear you though.”
His shoes and socks were on the floor now and a pair of shears was slicing through the leg of his pants.
It didn’t do him any good but he screamed again anyway.
STALKED
38 people in chat.
He smiled to himself and entered the chat room. He recognised several regulars who seemed to live on the damn thing, a few members who visited sporadically and a handful of new members. He was an old hand at this and quickly sifted out the guys and the guys pretending to be girls. That left three.
He made a mental note of their screen names.
He spent a bit of time bantering in the main room but it was all for show.
Rule #1: Don’t be the guy who turns up and immediately starts requesting private chat sessions and asking for feet pictures.
The newbies were chipping in now and then and he slowly aligned himself with their threads of conversation before zeroing in on a likely prospect: Blueskies92. He opened up a PM window
Snagglefish: Hi, you’re new here aren’t you?
He popped the top off a beer, took a long pull and sat back to wait. It took about five minutes.
Blueskies92: Yes.
He smiled to himself. It was the response that mattered, not the length of it. He cracked his knuckles and ran through a battery of innocent looking questions he used to screen out the fakers. For all he knew this could still be a guy. It took a while but he gradually coaxed out the information her required and satisfied himself she was the real deal.
She seemed relieved he wasn’t like a lot of sketchy guys who seemed to PM her out of the blue to get their rocks off. He confided in her that there were lots of those but there were decent people here too and she’d hone her creep detector pretty quickly.
He was careful to avoid anything sexual at this stage. This was about building trust and assessing her suitability.
Next to his laptop was a new notebook. He wrote ‘Blueskies92’ in neat cursive on the front cover and opened it to the first page. Over the next hour he made a series of notes. He also checked her profile, logged her personal information and post count. He then made his apologies and said he had to go out but he hoped they could speak again.
Rule #2: Leave first and don’t outstay your welcome.
Over the next week he tracked her activity on the forum, reading her posts and seeing who she interacted with. She was coy, sitting on the sidelines like the nervous new kid in school who doesn’t really know anyone yet or get any of the in-jokes but hopes to be included. He resisted going into the chat room whenever she did but after a suitable period of time he followed her in. This time he boldly PM’d her soon after entering.
Snagglefish: Hey, how have you been?
This time she responded in under thirty seconds.
Blueskies92: Hi there! Good thanks.
Her guard was lower this time. He was more playful and flirtatious in his chat and eventually she began to respond. He artfully steered the conversation to kink. He filled his notebook.
The next day he sent her a message which he signed ‘Jake’. A day later she responded, signing off with an initial, ‘L’.
He was nothing if not patient. Over the weeks that followed they began to chat for hours. The talk became overtly sexual. They swapped fantasies of bondage and tickling. Role playing was a natural progression. ‘L’ became Lena. Lena liked to be dominated and he was happy to oblige.
She was a pretty cheerleader. He was the captain of the football team, tying her up in the gymnasium after everyone had gone home…
She was a seductive spy. He was an enthusiastic interrogator, exploiting the sensitivity of her skin in a basement dungeon…
She was a babysitter with a thing for older men. He was an amorous father, lustily corrupting her with bondage and sexual tickling…
She added a few pictures to her profile on the forum. A selfie: early twenties, blond hair, wide eyes, full lips. Another camera photo: pulling a face. Now a clear photo taken by someone else: smiling, sitting on a picnic blanket wearing a sleeveless top, a summer skirt and oversized sunglasses. She was barefoot and hugging her knees, sandals visible at the edge of a shot. Comments racked up under the photos. U R Hot!...Show us ur feet plz!....Hey baby, love to tickle you!
Other photos arrived on email for his own private viewing. Lifting her t-shirt to show off her slender tummy. Barefoot, toes spread. Barefoot, shiny soled. He printed them out and pasted them carefully in his notebook.
A reverse image search found the picnic photo had appeared on a twitter account. He dug a little deeper. Lena had a surname. Lena had an address. Google maps, street view, direction finder. It was all coming together. He popped open a cold beer and saluted the monitor.
He read over their chats and looked at her photos while he masturbated.
He had booked either side of the weekend off work. It was going to be a long drive and he wanted to be fresh and rested when he got to his destination. He felt a surge of excitement as he imagined Lena’s reaction when he appeared out of the blue to make all her fantasies come true.
Everything was planned down to the last detail but there was always the possibility that she would not be willing to accept his overtures. He was prepared for that contingency. A soft cloth doused with chloroform was sometimes a necessary evil but one way or another, he would have his way.
He packed his equipment in an overnight case and loaded up his car. He didn’t use his main vehicle on this trip. He used a clunker he’d bought for cash. In case anything went wrong then there was nothing to link him to the vehicle.
He ate at truck stops along the way, a cap pulled down over his eyes. Just another guy passing through.
It was early evening as he hit town. A tingle of excitement started to build as he drove the streets of her neighbourhood. He had arranged a chat session with her so he knew exactly where she’d be tonight.
Her house was at the end of a country road. It was a little weatherboard place with a neat yard and a Japanese compact in the driveway. There wasn’t much activity on the roads which suited him fine.
His mouth was dry as he climbed out of his car. He left his bag in the car for now. He had a chloroform soaked rag in one jacket pocket and a length of rope in the other.
As he crept toward the house his cock hardened in his pants. There were no lights on inside the house save for a bluish glow coming from a side window: a monitor screen. That had to be her bedroom. He stifled an excited giggle and willed his hands to stop trembling. He could practically taste her. He walked towards the window and licked his lips. He wanted to see her unawares before he made his entrance.
He heard the faintest sound behind him and then there was a sharp crackle followed by a blinding, burning pain at the base of his neck. He fell to the ground, a twitching mess, unable to control his muscles. There was another crackle and a burning sensation in his side. Then he passed out.
His neck ached his side ached. He was spread-eagled on his stomach. Straps dug into his wrists and ankles.
A wave of panic and nausea washed over him. He tried to scream but his mouth had been packed with cloth and tightly sealed with duct tape.
He heard two voices behind him. Men’s voices. They were going through his stuff.
“Sheeeittt. Look at this. Leather straps, oils, feathers, a dildo with spare batteries.”
“ What kinda gag is this? Looks expensive. Sonofabitch even brought chloroform.”
“Lookit, he’s waking up.”
He tried to look around but his movement was heavily restricted. One of the men spoke to him.
“Hey Mr Snagglefish, bet you thought you were all set for a long weekend of bondage, tickling and fucking.”
“Well guess what, cupcake?” The other one added. “That’s exactly what’s gonna happen here. Jus’ probably not quite how you imagined it.”
There was harsh laughter above him.
“City boy.” One snorted. “Bet his skin’s real soft.”
Fingertips began to unlace his shoes.
“Never ceases to amaze me how easy it is to lure these dumb shits off the internets.”
He screamed frantically into his gag but it was too well sealed.
One of the men leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Don’t you worry. We’re gonna take that gag out in a while and you can scream all you want. Ain’t no-one gonna hear you though.”
His shoes and socks were on the floor now and a pair of shears was slicing through the leg of his pants.
It didn’t do him any good but he screamed again anyway.
Down the rabbit hole with someone who is clearly the Uber Creeper of the community's worst nightmares and just when you're starting to have guilty feelings cropping up...haha. It has a cool October, hypnotizing feel to it. And I love that The Others clearly went to just as extreeeeme, careful lengths to kickstart, well, his bad revelation.
