Stockholme Syndrome

I’ve been watching him for a while now; it’s so hard to tear my eyes off of him.  It’s those pouty lips, the long strong fingers, the muscular shoulder and his piercings, good God those piercings. I bite my lip hard to silence the gentle moan rising in my throat as he glances my way; his eyes are too blue, too cunning for me to meet his gaze even from a distance. I have to get away from here, from him, quickly before anyone notices my flushed face and trembling body.

I draw in a deep shaky breath and slowly rise from my seat, as I bend over to grab my purse off the floor I can’t help but notice the sweet musty smell my pussy has left lingering on the bar stool. I flush harder and hurriedly gather my things before I practically sprint towards the exit and the safety of the cool spring breeze outside. I stop just outside the doors and take a moment to look at the stars and pull myself together. Yes, it’s been months since I’d had any sexual contact and yes he was attractive but to lose control of my sex drive like some giddy little schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher? That was too much.

With my body now under control again I turned from the bar and began to wander down the road towards my bus stop. It was late and the road was dark and silent and with only the sound of my own heels clicking against the pavement it was almost eerie, every whisper of wind through the trees magnified a hundred times. I neared the corner and froze in my tracks, up ahead in the park just out of the glow of the streetlights. A man? I raised my hand to shield my eyes from the light as I slowly scanned through the park. I was sure I saw something; a trick of the light? Maybe it was just somebody out for a late night stroll? I steady my nerves and pull my thin coat tighter around my body as I continue my journey home.

That’s when I heard it, silent but fast footsteps behind me. I turned to look just as a hand wraps itself around my throat and a rag is clamped over my mouth. I panic, my body thrashing helplessly in the powerful grip on my throat. I inhale deeply hoping to scream, to tell somebody, anybody, that I need help but I can feel my limbs tingling and numbing. My head feels heavy and the world around me starts to spin, I stagger weakly and the violent grip on my throat suddenly disappears, the once frightening body behind me suddenly seems so warm and safe. I allow myself to fall limply into those arms and as the world fades into a sea of black I look up and this time the small moan that escapes my lips can’t be stopped. It’s those lips, those deep blue eyes.

It’s him.