Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

Object of Obsession	By : Demona_Andariel Category: G through L > Halloween (All) > Halloween (All) Views: 1807 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the Halloween movie series, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
For what felt like the hundredth time, Gretchen shook the bars of a window, one of the only things blocking her from escaping Michael’s home. What was his plan? She pushed herself away from the window and turned back to once again explore the house. There had to be a way to escape. But if there was, she couldn’t find it.
She plopped on the floor a little too hard and let out a cry of frustration. She had explored the house, top to almost bottom. Well, not completely bottom, she hadn’t gone down into the basement. It was dark, dank and scary. She didn’t have the courage to try her luck down there. It was worse than the rest of the house. Every window was boarded up and barred. Only one door led to the outside and there were no windows on that. Somehow, there was still electricity in the house. But that didn’t help much either. Some of the fixtures had no light bulbs or had very dull yellow ones.
The doors to the rooms were weird too with the door knobs locking on the wrong side. If he wanted, he could have locked her in the room they’d fought in. There was only one door in the whole house that had the door knob right. And that was locked. She wasn’t strong enough to bust the door open. If only lockpicking skills was something she possessed. She could only assume the room belonged to him. What was he hiding in there?
Wiping the tears of frustration from her face, she got back up and headed towards the basement again. She had to escape. She had no idea what Michael was up to. He had gone from almost killing her, to her almost killing him, to him almost killing her and then him assaulting her. Only, at some point it went from her fighting him to her wanting him. Her brain was starting to encourage his actions and for the briefest of moments, she wanted him to fuck her. What was wrong with her?
There was little doubt in her mind that things would have gone much further than they ended up going, if and only if he hadn’t laughed? She wasn’t even sure if it was a laugh. Whatever noise he made while he fingered her snapped her out of whatever aroused daze she’d been in.
She paused by the basement door, stretching her hand out to hold the door knob. His eyes. The way he looked at her through his mask after getting away from him. His fingers slick with her essence. There was something there. Surprise maybe? As if, her actions had snapped them both out of whatever had suddenly started to develop between them.
At that moment, the killer was looking back at her. But then he just turned and left her, with her cut up tube top with only her hands to cover her breasts. His hands on her breasts felt good despite, or maybe because of, his aggressiveness. Fuck ! Gretchen pushed her thoughts away and opened the basement door again. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she looked down into the darkness. No, it was too scary. She was pretty sure there were no bodies down there, or at least, she hoped not.
Closing the door, she let out a deep sigh and headed back upstairs. She nervously flattened the button up shirt she had managed to find. It looked huge on her. She didn’t know who it belonged to and she didn’t care. All she knew was that it covered her up and that was all that mattered.
She paused next to the door of the room she and Michael tussled. Why didn’t she kill him? She had the perfect opportunity and yet as she drove the knife down her whole body stopped her. Her hands shook as she looked into the room. She didn’t want to go back in there. It took her well over an hour before she had the courage to leave that room. She’d been too afraid he was standing just outside, waiting for her to try and escape. Waiting to pick her up and stab her. But, he wasn’t there. He’d left. The house was empty.
Letting out a sigh, she went back into the room and searched around. There weren’t any weapons, although... She looked at a lamp and picked it up. It was pretty heavy. Maybe she could hit him on the head, knock him out or stun him enough for her to escape. Tying the electric cord around the lamp, she walked back downstairs.
She eyed the front door, trying to figure out what would be the best way to attack him. A surprise attack she needed. Her stomach growled. How long had it been? She wasn’t entirely sure. Was it night, was it day? She didn’t know. She pushed the hunger away, there was no time to think about that right now.
She stood near the door for what felt like forever, her arms slowly grew tired as she held onto the heavy lamp. Letting out a sigh, she looked around. The door opening would be loud enough for her to be able to grab the lamp and attack him. She set the lamp on the coffee table and watched the door. Her body started to tire, making her sit down on the couch. She let out a big sigh as her eyes slowly closed in on her. The events that had happened over how many hours were finally catching up to her body.
She snapped herself awake the moment her head dropped down onto her chest. No! She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t let him catch her off guard. Her mind decided to play dirty as it recalled him playing with her pussy fingering her, although he was quick about sticking his finger in her, he was, in a weird way, gentle as he massaged and felt her. Rubbing her clit with the right amount of force to slowly build up an orgasm. She felt a tingle between her legs at the thought. No ! She told herself yet again. What was wrong with her?
She stared at the door. Was it possible that he was out there clearing his head? Was he going to come back to kill her for good? Or was he going to come back and finish what he started. She didn’t want to die, or give him the chance to fuck her. She had to be ready for him.
She stared at the lamp. One last battle. She wasn’t going to die without a fight, and she wasn’t going to run away from him either. Her last stand. She had to make it count.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Michael felt good, better than good. He’d managed to kill a couple people before he felt compelled to go back home as night slowly started to turn to day. He wasn’t sure why. He had no problem stalking people and terrifying them during the day. Nearing the house, his mind immediately recalled his victim. He had completely forgotten about her. But the closer he got to the house, the more he thought about her. A renewed strength to kill her filled him. He could do it now.
He paused at the front door, looking down at his bloody knife. He was going to coat her blood on it as well. Key in the front door, and opening it, he paused, waiting for some kind of attack. Clenching his knife, he stepped inside. It wasn’t too hard to spot her. She lay on the couch in the living room to his right, deep asleep. A heavy lamp was on the coffee table in front of her. Clearly, she meant to use that on him.
He moved deliberately towards her, crouching to her level once he got close enough. She had found an old button up shirt to cover herself with, but it was a bit large for her. One of her breasts peaked more than it should have, as she had put her hands between her legs to warm them, squishing her breasts closer together. He let out a heavy breath as he leveled his knife close to her eye, placing his hand on her chest. Her steady heartbeat softly pulsed under his hand, he couldn’t help but stare at his hand. Her skin was so soft. He could see the knick he’d made with his knife, between her breasts. It wasn’t bleeding and was small enough that it would heal up without leaving a scar if she lived.
Her heart picked up its beat and she took in deep breaths, he looked up at her, meeting her eyes. He could easily read her fear, but it surprised him that she didn’t try to fight back. He cocked his head to one side. He couldn’t read what emotion was on her face.
“Are you going to kill me now?” she asked softly.
His eyes narrowed with determination. Yes, he thought to himself. He didn’t have to say anything. She clearly got the message. She kept her hazel eyes on his blue ones. There was a fierceness in her stare, despite the fear that was in her. His muscles bunched up as he clenched on his knife. A frown crossed his face. He couldn’t. For whatever reason, his muscles refused to take her life.
Her quickened heartbeat pulsed through him as she waited. He found his hand on her chest was lightly rubbing her skin. His mind went back to focusing on the softness he was feeling. The rising and falling of her chest fascinated him as she took deep breaths. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the shape of one of her hardened nipples poking through the shirt she was wearing. The urge to kill her was replaced by the urge to see her breasts again, to slip his hand down her skirt and feel the silky wet heat of her sex.
His own breathing deepened as his mind started to give him new thoughts. Sliding his hand between her breasts into the shirt, he stroked the hardened nipple he could see over the fabric. She let out a whimpered gasp, and she managed to move one hand to grab his wrist. She wasn’t strong enough to stop him. He looked at her, raising his eyebrows. There was a different fear in her eyes, but she didn’t try to push him away.
Kill her ! The killer part of his brain demanded.
He got up, in frustration, pulling his hand out from under her shirt, and walked away from her. Killing was all he ever needed in his life, all he ever cared about. He’d killed so many young pretty women with skin as soft as hers. Why was she driving his brain to another desire?
She scrambled off of the sofa and grabbed the lamp she’d found. Before she could use it, he spun and wrapped his hand around her throat. She dropped the lamp, and wrapped her hands around his wrist in her attempt to stop him from choking her. He wasn’t choking her though, he didn’t plan on it. He just wanted her to know that he was in charge. He would always be able to be stronger than her. He brushed her delicate throat with his hand, feeling her esophagus move as she swallowed. So easy to choke, so easy to kill. Her lips parted as she used her mouth to breathe.
Flipping his knife so that it lay flattened against the bottom of his forearm, he reached out and touched her lips with his thumb. Plump and full, they were a little bit dry, but the moment he moved his finger off them she unconsciously licked her lips making them glisten. His mind went dirty on him again, imagining her on her knees, sucking his cock with those luscious lips. Her body shook ever so slightly, but there was something in her eyes, an emotion he wasn’t quite familiar with. There was still some fear, but it didn’t seem like it was directed towards him. Then, her eyes narrowed in what was a mixture of anger and something else.
His mouth twitched into a smirk, not that she could see it. Persistent little bitch. She could have stayed in the living room, could have found someplace to cower and hide. But she was intent on killing him it would seem. A new game popped up in his head. He let her go and walked away, curious as to what her next move was going to be. She couldn’t escape him, and clearly he couldn’t kill her. But that look, he liked it. Her attempt to make him the victim actually was amusing him.
He could sense her behind him. Her eyes on his back as if she were studying him. Pretending not to notice her, he walked into the kitchen and turned on the faucet to wash it. He was gentle and careful with it, making sure it was pristine before drying it with a kitchen towel and walking towards the stairs. He pretended to absentmindedly set the knife on the counter for her to grab.
She didn’t disappoint him as he heard her scurry for it. She was fast, but he was faster, as he caught her wrist holding the knife with his left hand and spun her into the wall, almost a little too hard. But he made sure to keep his right hand on the back of her head so that she wouldn’t lose consciousness. His hand stung at the contact with the wall. She let out a yelp and the knife dropped from her hands, landing on the floor with a clattering sound. He heard her breath catch as the slam knocked the wind out of her.
He used his fingers on his right hand to slowly massage her head. Keeping a firm hold of her right hand and not letting it leave the level he’d caught it, he moved his right hand down the back of her neck. Her whole body shivered and she let out a little moan then quickly coughed as if trying to cover it up. That surprised him. Her hazel eyes watched his blue eyes. She was afraid. He cocked his head. But oddly enough, she wasn’t afraid he’d kill her. She was afraid of something else.
His body was very close to hers. And he could feel his cock twitch as she swallowed. He gently ran his hand down her neck, to her chest then between her breasts. Allowing his fingernails to scratch her. He felt her flesh rise with goosebumps at his touch. Interesting. His eyes focused on her breasts again and he moved his hand down to the same persistent right hardened nipple, teasing it over the fabric. She let out a little gasp and then started to struggle. He put the palm of his hand over her breast, squeezing, making her whimper. His eyes met hers again. She was giving him that look again. He had to see her breasts again. He moved his hand up, easily slipping the top button out of it’s hole.
“Wait,” she whispered, clasping her hands around the shirt she wore. She didn’t want him to rip it. Although she had found more, she didn’t know what if he’d throw them out or what. She’d rather have access to one clean shirt that would cover her up.
Kill her, his killer brain demanded yet again of him. He looked down at the floor where his knife lay. Maybe, if she could injure him it would stop the part of his mind demanding he fuck her. Maybe, it’d give his killer mind the control and anger to finish her.
He looked at her again. As much as she tried to cover herself, he saw that damn nipple peeking through the fabric of her shirt again. She was trapped here, in his house, with him. She couldn’t escape. There was no reason to kill her. At least, not yet, he reasoned with himself. Plus, the way she looked at him was different than earlier. He learned to read people and that look was not something he’d seen directed at him. The killer part of his brain was pushed aside as lust officially took over. Lust? For him?
He moved back over to her, watching her eyes as she desperately tried to read what his next move was going to be. This time, bending down, he used her face to bring his mask up enough for his mouth to capture hers and kiss her. He expected her to fight him, push him away, and he planned on playing along. He enjoyed the resistance. He was going to have her one way or the other. Her whole body tensed and she raised her arms, fists clenched, putting them as some sort of barrier between her chest and his. But, she didn’t fight him. Instead, she kissed him back. Pushing further to see what he could get away with, he opened his mouth slightly. As if sensing what he wanted, her mouth parted as well, meeting his tongue with hers.
His mind noticed that the fists she’d made loosened and then the palms of her hands lay flat on his chest. There was no force to push him away, she was just touching him. Just like before when he was touching her. She was resisting then she stopped resisting him. She actually wanted him. It made him huff in amusement. That noise seemed to break her, sending her back to the reality that he was a killer and she was his victim. She quickly pulled away, pushing him back with her hands. She wasn’t strong enough, and he didn’t move.
He placed both of his arms on either side of her, caging her to the wall.
“No,” she said desperately as she managed to duck under his arms. She scrambled, grabbing his knife from the ground, she ran upstairs.
He watched in amusement then followed. She’d just put him into his stalker mode. He walked up the stairs, eyes and senses heightened for an attack coming from anywhere. She had unwittingly put herself in prime position for him. Other than the main bathroom, there were only bedrooms upstairs. Getting to the top of the stairs, he paused. She stood in the hallway, looking at each door, then she turned her attention to him. He could see it in her eyes, she wanted him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chills and shivers ran up and down Gretchen’s body as Michael watched her with his intense blue eyes. She swallowed hard as her heart beat loudly in her ears. Her mind battled with itself. She had nowhere to go. In her desperate attempt to think clearly, she’d run upstairs and there were really only bedrooms up here.
She whirled on her heels, staring at Michael as he slowly but steadily walked up the stairs. She knew what he wanted. And, in some part of her dark crazy mind she wanted it too. Hell, she was actually kissing him back until he made that noise of amusement. She wanted him to fuck her silly. It was wrong. He was a killer.
She held his knife out in front of her. That didn’t deter him. “Don’t come any closer!” she commanded, finally finding her voice. She was no longer scared of him. She was scare of herself. She felt as if she were on the verge of tears, frustrated with herself. More butterflies filled her stomach, as the tension in her core twisted ever tighter.
He paused for a moment, eyes widening in surprise, then his eyes narrowed a little, almost as if he were smirking. He kept walking towards her, making her back up till she hit the wall behind her. She still kept the knife pointed at him. He didn’t stop moving, pressing forward, almost daring her to stab him. Just as his chest started to hit the blade she lowered it then let it drop to the ground. She couldn’t. As much as she knew stabbing him could and would save her life and her sanity, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
He stopped, cocking his head to one side as if curious as to why she couldn’t kill him. She looked into his eyes. They narrowed as if to say, just because she didn’t stab him didn’t mean she was safe from him. He raised his hand up again and brushed her lips with his thumb. Her irrational brain desperately wanted him to kiss her again. He leaned down as if reading her mind.
No ! She made a mad dash to escape him yet again, but this time, he caught her, wrapping his arm around her chest and roughly pushing her to a door. She slammed against it and before she could react, he opened it, causing her to fall back into the room.
Looking up at him, she swallowed hard, her eyes pausing at the bulge in his coveralls. She quickly scooted back, her hands caught inside of the large shirt she was wearing, causing one side to fall off her shoulder, partially revealing one breast. One hand went to his zipper and he lowered it as he stepped inside. She didn’t stop scooting away from him till her back hit a bed frame. He closed the door behind him.
Fuck, fuck, fuck , her mind screamed as she stared at his bare chest and the visible dark chest hair and some scarring, most likely from previous victims. It shouldn’t have surprised her that his body looked to be well toned. After all, he could easily lift a person up with one hand. God damn, his body was hot. He paused, his eyes widening as if he were raising his eyebrows.
To her horror, she realized she’d been chewing on her lower lip, almost like she was excited or lustful. He didn’t unzip all the way, taking off the top part of his coveralls so that his whole chest was naked. Then he moved towards her. Her heart pounded in her chest as he knelt down over one of her legs. He sat on his heels instead of putting his weight on her leg and reached for the shirt she wore.
“Wait,” she whispered, clasping her hands around the shirt.
He paused, eyes staring at her intently. He wasn’t going to give her much time to explain.
She stared at his chest for a moment, watching it go up and down as he breathed. Breathing? It felt weird to think about. He had come and gone from Haddonfield for years. He was older than her, but his body didn’t look the age it should have. Her brain wanted to touch him, feel his chest move with each breath.
He’s a killer , her rational brain stated. We’re going to hell if we cooperate.
He reached out for her again as she quickly threw up one hand. “Okay,” she said. Taking a deep breath, she undid the top button and then slid one arm out of the sleeve. She stopped, eyes fixing on his again. For our sanity, can’t cooperate! His eyes went back to her face with a fury and desire. Her breathing deepened, but she slowly pulled the other arm out then let the shirt drop. She crossed her arms over her chest to cover her breasts.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be him. Her visions had never been wrong before. It was supposed to be Brandon!
He grabbed her wrists and pulled her arms away, raising them above her head. Her stupid brain got more excited by his control. He knew what he wanted and he was going to take it. He watched her breasts rise and fall with her deep breathing. He put her wrists together and held them with one hand, allowing the other to go down. She swallowed hard again, body tensing as she waited for him to touch her.
He started with her right breast, first cupping it as if he were trying to see how it fit in his hand. She could use his hands as a bra and still have a little bit of room. Her breasts were of a decent size, almost a little larger than normal for her body size and weight. Something that she had inherited from her mother. Pushing her breast up a little bit he let it go to watch it jiggle. He lightly teased her stupid nipple that constantly got hard for even tiny things, rubbing it then twisted, getting her to gasp in response. His eyes went back to her face. She kept her eyes on him, not watching what he was doing. Biting the inside of her cheek, she tried to stop her responses, but the irrational part of her brain was onboard with his touches. And her dirty mind was loving the feel of his hand on her breast while he kept her hands immobile.
This time, he didn’t look down on his movements. He moved his hand to her left breast, massaging one first. His eyes flashed with interest as she involuntarily struggled, but it wasn’t to get away, it was almost like she was trying to get closer to him. A little moan escaped her lips, surprising her. She had to keep herself in control! His finger teased her left nipple, slowly working and twisting it till it was hard and pointy as the right. She caught the moans from escaping, but not the whimpers they turned into. Nor could she stop her hips from doing little rolls as her core continued to tighten with every touch he made.
He bent down, catching her right breast in his mouth. She couldn’t help but let out a loud moan as she arched her back a little and wiggled, rubbing one leg against the other. She accidentally brushed against his knee. If he noticed, he ignored it. His left hand let her wrists go as he moved his mouth to her left breast. He palmed and played with her right breast, licking, lightly biting and rubbing her left breast. She let out a loud cry, wiggling again as she placed her hands on his shoulders. She demanded her body to push him away, but it didn’t. Instead, she found her fingers digging into his shoulders to spur him on.
Suddenly, his face was up, the mask covering everything but his mouth as he somehow managed to find her lips and kiss her. She placed her hands on his chest, feeling his hard pecs, while she kissed him back. His lips, his tongue, the smell of him, it was setting her senses on fire.
She broke their kiss, letting out a little cry of surprise as his fingers brushed along the inside of her left thigh. She hadn’t noticed he’d moved it off her breast to go under her skirt. She wasn’t wearing any underwear, because the bastard had only brought her and what she had been wearing. He brushed her clit, making her hips jump before he dipped a finger into her, rubbing around. Her right leg automatically moved further away, spreading her out a little bit so he had easier access to her.
He huffed at her actions, snapping her out of her aroused mind again. That huff was the only thing keeping her grounded. Her fight instincts kicked in. Before he could react, she planted her right leg on his left leg and used his body to push away from him. She started to scramble, but he was too close, too fast. He was on her quickly, straddling her legs and putting enough weight that she wouldn’t be able to slip out from under him. His hands immediately grabbed her ass.
“Get off me!” she demanded. She knew it was a stupid thing to say. What did she expect? For him to suddenly respect her? Oh, I’m sorry ma’am. Am I being to forward? Maybe we should go on a few dates first before fucking. Her brain teased her trying to lighten the mood for some reason.
The sound of him unzipping his coveralls the rest of the way, made her try to look behind her. She swallowed hard, her mouth feeling dry. It was difficult to see since she was laying on her stomach. He’s a cold blooded killer and soon to be rapist , she inwardly screamed at herself as she felt a tingle between her legs. The primal part of her mind was not phased or scared. Not a rapist , it told her, we want this.
Want this? No! He was a killer, there was no way he’d be a gentle lover. Her brain was acting stupid on her due to her arousal. It wanted to believe from all that he’d done so far that they would have a good time together. But the rational part disagreed. He was going to take her whether she wanted him to or not. It wasn’t about her pleasure. It was about his.
She was only delaying the inevitable. He’d already proven multiple times that she couldn’t escape. Did she want to be taken like this? From behind.
He moved with purpose, making sure to lay over her, keeping his legs firmly on either side of her. She felt his arms go to either side, and him lowering himself till she could feel the weight of him. He moved, slowly grinding his hardened cock over her still clothed ass. He was big, too big. And he was keeping her legs closed. He would destroy her.
“Wait,” she said weakly, placing her right hand on his that was beside her. She tried to move but he bent down, pressing more of his body weight on her. She shook her head. “I relent. Not like this. Please?” she said through a staggered breath. The hardwood floor was making it difficult for her lungs to fill up properly.
He didn’t have to listen to her pleas. He could have done whatever he wanted. But for some reason, he rose ever so slightly. She flipped onto her back and looked up at him. His blue eyes looking back at her filled with lust. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to look at his cock. Feeling it rub against her ass she knew it was larger than Brandon’s.
Breathing heavily, she hiked her skirt up. She didn’t want to be completely naked in front of him. Hopefully, when he killed her, he’d have the decency to at least cover her up. He paused for a moment, eyeing her sex with curiosity. She swallowed hard again as she felt his hand brush over her. He repositioned himself to be between her legs. Her heart pounded violently in her chest with excitement. Not breaking her gaze, she felt the finger in his right hand moved to her already aroused pussy. She was pretty wet. His cock though, it was big. She wasn’t quite sure her body was ready to take him yet. If she told him, would he listen?
Unfortunately for her, there was no more time to think, no time to say anything, to figure out what response she wanted to give. He was in complete control. He rested on his elbows, so that more of his naked body was on hers, pressing her down with his weight. It felt good, if she were honest with herself. He rolled his hips forward and she felt the tip of his cock brush her pussy. With a grunt, he tried to enter her, but his cock ended up sliding over her slit and rubbing over her nub of nerves. She let out a little groan as his cock rubbed her clit and shot a feeling through her.
Looking down, he grabbed his cock and guided it to her slit. She bit her lip and tried to grab onto something as he started to fill her up. There was no leverage on the hardwood floor, and she found herself grabbing the one arm that was on the ground. Michael returned his gaze back at her as he pushed forward, moving at a faster speed than she would have liked, giving her no time to get used to him. His fingers had done little to prepare her for his size. She shook her head, trying to squirm away from him, digging her fingers into his arm. She was right. She wasn’t wet enough. Damn, she wished she had some lube.
“Wait. I’m not-” she tried to say ready, sitting up slightly, but he pushed more into her, not listening.
He paused, giving her the little bit of hope that maybe he was listening to her. He pulled back, his breathing hard and heavy, amplified through his mask. “It’s too big. I-” She knew he wouldn’t stop his assault. She just needed a little bit more preparation. He pushed through and she let out a cry of pain. Automatically, she wrapped her arms around his neck as if holding onto him would ease the pain. She couldn’t help but shake, burying her face in his neck. She knew some women didn’t feel pain. And maybe she would have been one of those, if he had prepared her more. Maybe if he had some lube. Got her to orgasm once before fucking her. Even fingering her some more would have helped.
She felt completely full and stretched more than she thought possible, and yet it seemed like there was still more of him to go inside of her. It felt so wrong and yet so right at the same time. She was completely connected to him. She let out shaky breaths, trying to get used to the feeling of being stretched and full. Much to her surprise, she realized that he wasn’t moving. As if he was okay with her getting adjusted to him.
His heavy breathing through his mask was far too close to her ear. She quickly let him go and laid back down. Her eyes were wide with surprise. He was waiting? See, her irrational brain tried to point out. He seemed to take her laying back down as his cue to start going. She bit her lip to keep from crying. He was moving too fast and too hard. He was hurting her. The tension that was in her core slowly dissipated. See! She pointed back to her irrational brain, to the part that wanted to fuck the killer.
Why did he bother waiting for her to get used to him? He was confusing her. But of course he’d be rough. Was this some kind of game for him? A weird, build up some trust before causing the most amount and intimate pain he could? Maybe it was better this way, get her irrational mind to realize that the rational side was right. He wasn’t the kind of partner she wanted for sex.
She stopped fighting him. In fact, she forced her body to just lay there. Making it so that her movements were only because of him. She turned her head to one side, staring under the bed as she stopped focusing, a silent tear ran down her cheek.
Pulling almost all the way out, he rammed back into her. Pain shot through her body and she couldn’t help but cry and move. A grunt of frustration came from his direction. He moved his left hand over her mouth. Did he hate her crying?
Rage replaced the sadness. How, fucking, dare he! He was causing her pain and he didn’t want to hear it? She bit his hand… hard, while at the same time, she raked her nails along his back, trying to dig them in to cause pain. Suddenly, she was free as he moved his left hand away and pushed away. She felt his cock slip out of her pussy. Scooting away from him with new triumphant energy, she scrambled to her feet to make it to the doorway. She needed to get away. Finally, her brain was not onboard. His strong right arm wrapped around her middle and pulled her back. She screamed and flailed trying to fight him again.
He threw her. Expecting to land on the floor again, she was surprised when she bounced on the bed. Before she could react he was over top of her. Sliding his body between her legs, pinning her down. He grabbed her arms and pinned them over her head, holding them in place with one hand. His masked face leaning close to her. His dark eyes bore into her, but she couldn’t read his emotions.
“Fuck you,” she snarled, glaring into his eyes. Rage and defiance filled her to the core. He was mean. He was cruel. He was a killer. And she was going to fight him, make him fucking her difficult. Even if it meant enduring more pain. Fuck his satisfaction.
Her body tensed as she waited for him to get rough again and slam into her. But he didn’t. Instead, he slowly entered her pussy again, watching her eyes. His body got heavier as he bared down on her, lowering himself with his free arm to get closer to her. She bared her teeth at him focusing on those cold unfeeling eyes. She would bite him again if she could. Somehow, he managed to stabilize himself with his left arm that was holding her hands over her head, also turning his body a little bit more to his left. It added a little bit more of his weight on her, but it wasn’t a problem. He was making more shallow thrusts into her. With his free hand, he ran it along her body, touching one breast, cupping it, playing with it. She was too angry to let that stimulate her. He lowered his hand even more, going over her clothes then he rubbed her clit. He didn’t pick up speed though. Keeping his thrusts slow and shallow. He watched her. He seemed puzzled. She tried to glare back at him, to show him that she was still fighting him, not enjoying. But, she found her eyes widening in surprise. Blue eyes. He had blue eyes? Why did she think they were dark?
Her body betrayed her, allowing the fire to return to her core, as he rubbed her clit. Her hips automatically moved, as her irrational brain excitedly tried to take more of him in. A mewl escaped her mouth as he worked on her clit. He seemed to be doing his best to find the right rhythm and pressure for her. Her pussy still hurt, and his size wasn’t helping, but her body was starting to produce more lubricant for him, as he rubbed the right bundle of nerves to jump-start her. She could already feel the fire grow inside her and hear more wetness as he moved at a steady pace.
Her irrational brain was winning again. She managed to squeeze onto his hand with one of hers for some sort of added comfort or something else. He moved his hand off her clit to play with her breasts. He was slowly picking up pace, but it was easier for him to penetrate her now. Her arms tingled and shook. She was making sounds. Sounds she didn’t want to make that told him she was enjoying what he was doing. And he was actually listening to her. Reading her face and her body. She arched her back a little bit and then his mouth caught one of her breasts. She couldn’t help but groan. His mouth moved to the other breast.
Fuck , she thought. There was a burn, but it felt good now. And his cock was brushing against the right spot in her, slowly rubbing against it as he delved deeper into her. Each steady thrust seemed to open more of herself up to him. Moans and gasps escaped her lips as her body welcomed him. She wanted him to let her hands go. Wanted to participate more. At the same time, she was glad he was holding her hands together. It was so wrong, but also so right. He was suddenly no longer the brutal killer who was trying to hurt her, but a new lover trying to figure things out.
His mouth moved from her breast up her chest. He paused over her heart, placing his lips on it as if he were feeling her heartbeat. She gasped as he slowly ran his mouth up her neck. Suddenly, she found her hands were free as he let her go. He knew. She wasn’t going to fight him anymore. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, but her body did. Her fingers automatically moved to feel his chest and then blindly examined his back.
He rose from her neck and brought his mouth to hers again, kissing her deeply. Before she could react, he thrusted into her fast and hard. She let out a staggered cry, not in pain, but in pleasure, arching her back again. Feeling her breast crush against his chest. There was no way of getting her back to reality. Unless he did the thing. He pulled away from her mouth, mask falling back in place so that his blue eyes could study her.
He pulled almost all the way out, watching her expression. She whimpered, her irrational mind didn’t want him to leave yet. He pushed back in, a little bit faster and a little bit harder, testing her. She failed in controlling herself as a moan escaped her lips and her hips eagerly met him. Again he did it, pulling out more and then slamming back in. She groaned in pleasure. Fuck ! She was enjoying herself.
At the bottom of her belly she felt the tension twist. “Fuck,” she tried to not let the word slip out but it did. Think of… his cock , her mind cruelly said. She looked back into his blue eyes that watched her with curiosity as well as lust.
He rose up, to support most of his weight on his arms. She felt a small whimper escape her lips. She liked his weight on her, his heat. He kept a steady fast pace, his breathing grew heavier as he added more grunts and moans of his own. His eyes half closed at times. She matched him in both, adding gasps, moans and groans of her own as her body fully enjoyed him. Her hands roamed the parts of him she could get to without needing to move much. She was so very close to her orgasm.
“Fuck,” she gasped again, clenching her hands on the sheets as he seemed to pound more and more sensation into her core. She was on the edge of coming.
He picked up speed again, but there was something about the way he was moving, how he closed his eyes and moved his head back. Her eyes widened. He was about to cum. “Wait, stop,” she gasped, putting her hands in front of her in a desperate attempt to push him back. Her hands felt his chest and suddenly he let out a staggered gasp, as if he’d been holding his breath for a long time, and slowed his pace. She could feel a warmth as he came inside her and it almost sent her over the edge. But his slowing movements weren’t going to get her there. And his hand no longer played with her clit. He moved a few more times then stopped.
He looked down and she realized that her hands had been absentmindedly roaming his chest, caressing him. She quickly pulled her hands to her chest to cover her breasts and he rolled off her. He didn’t bother to look at her while he put on his boxers then coveralls. Without even a glance at her, he walked out of the room.
She sat up, pulling her shirt up to cover her chest in case he returned. Her eyes stared at the doorway as she waited and tried to catch her breath. Would he come back to kill her now? Was he just catching his breath? What was his motive? Other than the grunting and groaning, not much else escaped his lips.
Closing her eyes and took a deep breath. The tension in her core was still there. Her brain and body weren’t happy with her as she tried to control herself. Forcing loud slow deep breaths to pass through her. The bastard didn’t even bother to help her come and she wasn’t about to debase herself by finishing the job for him. She could feel his cum leak out of her. It annoyed her. She needed a shower, but other than the old men’s clothing she’d found there were no towels or soap or anything for that matter. Hell, she wasn’t sure how there was even electricity in the house. She heard the sound of a key going into a lock and then opening a door as he went into the one room he had locked.
She let out a sigh. On the plus side, she wasn’t going to get pregnant. But, she felt dirty, used. See ! She told her irrational brain as she curled up on the bed. She suddenly felt like crying. He was confusing her too much. That’s the kind of guy you want to fuck? He didn’t even care if you came. He just used you and left you.
He is confused about his feelings like you are , came back the reply. She curled up even tighter, annoyed with her brain as it tried to make up excuses for him. Her mind was right though. She thought he was going to kill her when she woke up on the couch with his knife pointed at her eye. But he was touching her chest with such care and tenderness and fascination, even the many interactions after that had the same dynamic of interest in giving her pleasure. Up until he started fucking her, but even after the initial rough start, he had changed his tune. She was battling her attraction to him and he was clearly battling the killer, need to cause pain and fear, side of him.
With time, he can learn, that silly voice replied back. Time? Why did she think she had time? Even if she did have time, why in the world would her irrational mind think she could teach him anything? He was still a killer. He still enjoyed the fear and pain that he caused other people. And she wasn’t sure she could ever be okay being with someone who killed. If anything, this was only a preview of what was to be expected if she were to keep living in his house. Her constantly fighting him as he forced himself upon her.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in a while. Well.. maybe she would die of starvation and end the torment in her mind. She closed her eyes, banishing her thoughts away as exhaustion took over again.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Michael paced back and forth in his room. He was thinking too much, he didn’t like it, it was confusing him. Things had always been simple: Stalk, cause fear, and kill. But right now, the side of him that felt compelled to spill blood was quiet, and that scared him. He sat on his bed and folded his hands together, placing his head on them, for once letting himself contemplate.
He wasn’t an idiot. It was her. For whatever reason, she somehow quieted the killer part of him. He had thought, or rather hoped, that once he fucked her he’d have the will to kill her. But instead, he didn’t want to let her go. He wanted to feel her move under him again, hear her sounds of pleasure. He wanted to learn more about her, what buttons he could push to make her give him those lusty eyes again.
His body tensed as he felt her phantom arm wrap around his neck and her body tense after he took her virginity. He knew things, but he’d never experienced them. And her being a virgin surprised him. Especially since it was clear that she was having sex in that car with her boyfriend. Sex he had interrupted.
He realized a little too late that she was trying to tell him that he was hurting her. He shouldn’t have cared. He shouldn’t have stopped to let her body calm down and adjust around him. But, for some reason, he did. He waited for her shaky breathing to slow down, and for her to let him go. It was so hard. Her inner, soft, velvety canal hugged him so tightly, so right. He’d never experienced anything like that.
His mind had taken him back to what he’d seen others having sex do. It seemed simple enough. But then, a problem happened. She stopped responding. It frustrated him. He enjoyed the sensation of her struggling to get away, of her feeble attempts to keep him away, and of her fighting that internal battle. And when she stopped moving, stopped fighting, the killer part of his mind returned. It told him what to do: Stab her with his cock like he would with a knife. Bring pain to her to pleasure himself. Only, it didn’t work that way.
He should have enjoyed her cries, should have enjoyed the pain he was inflicting. But he wasn’t. He was finding it more difficult to keep his erection. The killer in him was getting more and more annoyed and desperate. He didn’t know what to do. Being inside her felt so good, her body under his, but her damn glazed eyes as she mentally distanced herself from the situation she was in. He knew how to inflict pain, and he did it again, hoping that his previous attempts were just a fluke. But she started crying and that pissed him off. He had to shut her up. And then the little bitch bit and clawed him.
He looked at his hand where she’d sunk her teeth in. It pulsed with pain. He didn’t mind though, he’d been hurt plenty of times before. His body would heal quickly. Her sudden attack surprised him, giving her the chance to escape. Not that she could get away. But that brief attack pushed the killer mind back, allowing the lust filled part of him to take over. He felt… excited.
He didn’t care about her pleasure, at least, he didn’t think he did. He needed her to be more active. So, he had to switch tactics. He knew how to stalk and study his prey. For whatever reason, his brain was hardwired to not get sexual pleasure from women in pain or crying.
He watched her, using her facial expressions and body movements to help him figure things out. His mind remembered the little nub down there that had gotten her excited. His slow movements in her were to let him think and figure out what to do. And then, to his amazement, she started to enjoy their union, her body moving to meet his. And as he moved faster she no longer cried in pain. Her body was incredibly wet allowing him to slide in easier.
He felt his cock harden a little as his mind recalled the end. Whatever was building up within him at that moment was getting too strong. He knew how to break it, let that sensation wash over him. But he didn’t want to leave her pussy. In some part of his mind he heard her ask him to stop. He didn’t want to and he wasn’t going to. When she touched his chest, it was all over, the softness of her fingers made him lose control. He came inside her.
Was that good or bad? He wasn’t quite sure yet. He wasn’t wearing protection and he never would. It was possible that he could get her pregnant, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that possibility. But, feeling her walls embracing his cock without a barrier, it made him feel more connected to her. As if she belonged to him and him alone. Like he’d claimed his victims lives with his knife, he felt like he’d claimed her with his cock, and only solidified it by cumming in her. He liked her touch, liked the way she fought a losing battle, liked the way she looked at him with anger, lust and pleasure.
He glanced over at his nightstand where his mask and knife lay. There was no voice in his head telling him to pick up the knife, put on the mask and kill her. She was fucked. He couldn’t kill her and he couldn’t let her leave. Which meant, he’d have to take care of her. His eyes widened at the realization. She would need food and clothing and probably other basic items that he didn’t need. He laid back in his bed, placing his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He didn’t need sleep or food, but for some reason, he was suddenly very tired.
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Object of Obsession