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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
- 5
- 6
- 7
A/N: It's been far too long! I'm not sure if anyone's reading this story, but if so, I have completed it and will be posted Monday and Friday till the whole thing's done. Sorry about how long it's taken me.

Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods! Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. What had she done? Michael was staring at her, eyes wide, chest heaving with labored breaths.
She literally just swallowed his cum. Why the fuck didn’t she spit it out? She’d never swallowed anyone’s cum before and she’d given a blowjob or two. Although she was saving herself for the right moment, she still wanted to learn and get good at a few things. Hell, she’d been practicing her skill on Brandon, ignoring his annoyance each time she spat out his cum.
Because of the moment. Michael’s heavy breathing, the way he moved, his hands in her hair, his fucking mouth as he groaned. The moment he lifted his mask up enough for her to view his lips she’d gotten mesmerized. So kissable. But, ultimately, it was the power she had over him, the control that spurred her on.
You’re officially insane!
To cover her shock and embarrassment, she wiped her mouth and turned away. Go away, she begged. He got what he wanted. There was no reason for him to stay. He was a man after all. He wouldn’t be ready to fuck for at least a little while, hopefully, a full day would pass. And, considering he was clearly all about his pleasure she didn’t expect him to focus on her. Not that she wanted him to. She was already getting confused signals from her own brain.
Her own pussy tingled from excitement at the reaction she got from him. It wasn’t supposed to be that way. The moment his thumb touched her lips she knew what he wanted her to do. It had been a relief not to have to undress completely. She was more than happy to give him a blowjob, although at the same time she wasn’t about to show her excitement.
Oh, gods.
She had waited hours for Michael to come home with her small headache getting progressively worse over time. She didn’t want to deal with it, with him, with her whole situation anymore.
She managed to come up with two plans. Her first plan was to demand he kill her. If that failed then she was going to try and make things a little bit easier for herself, which included making sure she could use lube. Something he didn’t seem to mind, thankfully. She wasn’t going to actively participate in his sexual activities. If he wanted to fuck her then fine. But he’d have to do all the work. Wasn’t like he seemed particularly interested in getting her to come anyway.
Only, her brain decided to go in a different direction the moment she started to give him a blowjob. What was worse. They were by the wall where her stupid mind pictured the two of them fucking.
Getting up off her knees, she started to turn but stopped when he reached out. There was puzzlement in his eyes as his thumb brushed her lips again.
“Are you serious?” she asked. She couldn’t help but give his cock a quick glance. “I don’t think you’re quite ready for another one.” Not that she wanted to give him another blowjob. One was more than enough for the day considering he wasn’t going to return the favor. But, his expression didn’t read that he wanted another blowjob. There was something else there.
She didn’t want to know, turning around, she started to button up her dress again. She needed to get out of there, away from that wall. She was not quite yet ready to passionately say his name while having him fuck her against it.
A finger trailed down her exposed back, making her close her eyes and shiver. She felt paralyzed as he first ran his hand along one shoulder. The way he ran his fingers along the middle of her shoulder blade made her think. Did he cut her there? He must have when they first met. She vaguely recalled the pain, the memory of him slicing down flashed through her mind, but it was the least of her worries at the time and it didn’t bother her now. His attention to the shallow wounds he’d made would have interested her if she weren’t slightly scared while also annoyed that he did injure her and wasn’t remorseful. But why would he be?
His second hand joined the first in exploring her back. She swallowed hard, trying to control her breathing at the contact. His hands felt so nice, firm, and also a little rough. Stop, she mentally pleaded, although she wasn’t sure if it was to him or herself for enjoying his touch. Hell, even when he was inspecting the damage he’d done it turned her on. The way he enjoyed trapping her wrists, even though they both knew he was stronger than her and there was no need. His absolute fascination with her breasts made her want to jut them out even more for his viewing pleasure. And it felt so good having him pay attention to them.
He snaked a hand around her to cup her breasts. A moan slipped out, from her or him, she wasn’t sure. He didn’t linger, sliding his hands down her dress loosened a little as he popped open a button. Oh no, she thought. In a panic, she grabbed his wrists and turned to her side. She couldn’t stop him, she knew that. “I-”
His blue eyes looked back at her. It’s going to happen, they read. There was tension in his arms. As if to make her understand that he was serious, he started to pull the fabric at the next button. Message clear, he’d rip them off if he had to.
She knew it was only a matter of time before he saw her completely naked. It shouldn’t have mattered what he thought, after all, he was using her just for sex, wasn’t he? But rejection hurt, no matter who did it. For whatever reason, he was patient. His fingers were ready to unfasten the next button.
She slowly let his wrists go and looked away. Her instincts to run, to fight, to stop him threatened to overwhelm her. But it would only cause more frustration on his and her end. It would only delay the inevitable.
“Whatever,” she mumbled, turning her whole body so he’d have easier access to undress her. She didn’t look at him though, keeping her head to one side and her focus on the ground. She didn’t want to see his expression. Stop caring, she pleaded with her brain. Butterflies filled her stomach as her dress slowly loosened. She trapped the fabric between her arms and body for a moment. Taking in a deep breath and clenching her fists, she moved her arms out, allowing the dress to fall to the ground.
Her self-conscious negative view of her body had been a new development. For as much as she had her heart set on Brandon being the one, he had his flaws. And one of them hurt her more than she realized.
Michael brushed his fingers along her lower abdomen and she couldn’t help but suck in her stomach a bit. Her ears began to ring. She automatically took a step back to get away from his touch.
“Happy now?” she asked, hoping her voice sounded annoyed. She forced herself to focus on his eyes since that was the only thing she could use to tell her how he felt. He tilted his head to one side, once again he seemed puzzled.
“Car accident,” she muttered. Her mother’s pained scream echoed in her mind for a moment. Her lower abdomen had four decent-sized, discolored, ridged scars. She’d been quite lucky to survive the car accident that took her parents' lives. And all she had to show for it were the four scars on her lower abdomen from being impaled by bent metal. Which wasn’t bad considering the efforts that were taken to save her life.
They never bothered her before, in fact, she rather liked them. Proof that she was a survivor, a story to tell. But, they did bother Brandon. Unconscious or not, his face twisted into annoyance, even disgust any time he saw them, as if they were an inconvenience to him. They weren’t exactly easy to hide, but she did her best.
“I meant to get a tattoo to cover them up, but-” she stopped mid-sentence and frowned. “Why am I telling you this? You don’t care.” The tattoo part was a lie. She never wanted a tattoo, Brandon did. Casually hinting and showing her different designs of what he thought would look cool to cover them up. She didn’t want them covered.
Michael approached her and she automatically stepped back. His eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced at her. Annoyed? Probably. She swallowed hard, forcing her body to still. She couldn’t tell what Michael was thinking as his fingers pressed against her abdomen and his head was bent in a way it was difficult to see his eyes. The ringing in her ears grew louder.
Run, getaway, her body started to demand. She complied. Or at least, she tried to. Before she could even take a step, his strong arms wrapped around her and held her in place, just as she turned.
Taking in a deep breath, she let it out and waited for whatever he wanted to do. Maybe he was superhuman and hard again. Her heart pounded in her chest at the thought. She couldn’t imagine, but she didn’t dare check. His body pressed against her back and his hand slowly roamed her abdomen, tracing each scar. She closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath.
There was a moment of relief or sadness, she wasn’t quite sure, the moment he moved his hand away from her scars. Butterflies filled her stomach as his fingers dipped down and hooked the sides of her underwear. Oh. He slid them down, hand purposefully rubbing her thighs until he could let them go, allowing them to drop to the ground with ease, leaving her completely naked.
She felt him lean back, and she glanced behind her. His eyes were focused on her ass. There was no stopping her brain from feeling both a bit proud by how he seemed pleased but also slightly annoyed by his actions. Annoyance was the path she chose to follow.
“I’m not a show horse,” she snapped as she turned. He didn’t even bother to shift his gaze as he stared at her pussy instead. She crossed her arms and twirled on the soles of her feet to have her back to him again. She’s rather he stare at her ass.
For once, she felt his presence behind her before his touch. Her eyes closed as she chewed on her bottom lip, waiting for his touch. His body heat was so close to her and yet he seemed to tease her by not pressing his body upon hers.
That didn’t last long though. Her breath hitched as he started to run one rough hand down the side of her body. Her arms went slack. He moved his right hand in, brushing by her scars, pausing just long enough so that it didn’t seem as if they repulsed him, before continuing on his journey. His left hand wrapped around her belly to keep her close to him. Oh, gods, she couldn’t bite back her groan as his warm flesh pressed against her. She could hear his heavy breathing through his mask. Not a fan. But at least- Her thoughts were interrupted as his fingers slipped through her labia. She wrapped one arm around his. There was very little doubt in her mind that he felt how slick she was. His chest moved as he huffed. An action that should have brought her back to reality, only she was already very turned on.
A whimper escaped her mouth as she leaned back against him. He didn’t have to be good, he really didn’t have to do much. The fire that he had stoked the night before seemed to recall where it was at. Didn’t help that she enjoyed the reaction that she got from him while giving him a blowjob.
His fingers moved through her slickness, feeling her. Somehow, he figured out how to tease her as his thumb brushed her clit but would leave, making her whimper for more. He bent down, his body leaned against her so his arm could go down further. His skin was hot against hers. His chest moved deeply as he breathed. There must have been some sort of sign from her that she wasn’t going to try and fight or run away. His grip around her belly disappeared as he ran his left hand down, circling around before he grasped one of her ass cheeks.
She rose on her toes briefly, moaning at the contact. Lowering back down, she took in a deep breath as she found herself lowering onto one of his fingers. That surprised her. Her hand dug into his right arm momentarily. She rose back up slightly then lowered herself back down. He didn’t move, not that she expected him to. Letting his finger run along the top of her inner wall. There was no way it was on purpose, but he manage to brush over her g-spot. To her semi-relief, he moved his finger around, exploring her soft insides. Gods, help me. Leaning back into him, she moaned, moving her hips to try and find his elusive thumb.
It was as if he knew what she wanted and kept his thumb so close and yet so far. A whimper escaped her lips and she leaned her head up and over to look at him. Oh, gods, I’m begging. His eyes were intensely watching her reaction.
Damn you, she wanted to curse. The urge to rip his mask off and kiss him threatened to overwhelm her. Stupid mask. She licked her lips and then bit her bottom one. Would he get the hint? Please, her brain pleaded with him. The last time he’d kissed her, she’d enjoyed it.
He didn’t seem to read her thoughts this time. He added a second finger instead. Both of his fingers rubbed the top of her wall in a come-hither type motion. It hit the right spot. Oh, gods. She was going to come. Her hips moved up and down on his fingers. His thumb finally circled her clit. What would it be like to have his tongue lick her?
The thought seemed to start a cascade of questions and feelings. Oh! Would have been so much better lying down so she didn’t have to support herself on her feet. She was reaching her peak. Suddenly, she became keenly aware he was hard. She glanced up, not wanting him to stop what he was so close to finishing. His mask was pulled up, once again his lips were showing, partly opened as he breathed in deeply.
“Fuck,” she whispered. It took all of the mental strength she had left not to reach up and pull him down to kiss him or grab his cock and play with it just to tease him. His thumb pressed on her clit hard and she squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her head back onto his chest she let out a loud and long moan as her emotions hit their peak and finally broke through her body. She was vaguely aware of his free arm grabbing her while the other fingered her.
He was grinding up against her. Her right hand gripped his right arm tightly as she clenched her teeth, letting out short little mewls. There was no reason for her to try and control the noises coming from her mouth. But, she did. She leaned back into his arm. Her whole body tingled from the orgasm she’d experienced. His slick right hand moved up her thigh.
Oh, gods, he got me to come.
His hard cock poked at her backside. Of course, he was hard. Her eyes focused on the kitchen counter. She wasn’t sure how or when he’d maneuvered them towards it. He placed his left hand on her back, pushing her down onto the cool marble. It felt so nice against her hot skin.
There was no fight left in her. She craved his cock. Her back felt cold, making her turn her head to look at what he was doing. God, she looked like a slut. Bent over the counter, ass up, pussy ready to be fucked. He had the bottle of lube in one hand while rubbing some of it on his cock with the other. That surprised her. Their eyes met as he walked toward her. His hand glistened with lube and her own pussy juices. She groaned as his fingers came into contact with her pussy. Her eyes rolled up a little as she closed them, waiting in anticipation.
Aw, fuck me.
His glide in was about to be so smooth. She clenched her fists on the counter, just in case. Ready to be uncomfortable, for some pain. One of his hands was on her hip to keep her steady, his other had to have been on his cock. She couldn’t help but hold her breath the moment she felt his cock press against her pussy.
Try as she might, her body tensed and she swallowed hard. He set his other hand on her hips, pulling them back while he pushed forward. The stretch, the glide, the movement, his hands, his groan, it was all nearly perfect. Her hands flattened on the counter as she half let him pull her back, while also cooperating herself. He grunted and she mewled the moment his pelvis came into contact with her ass. Suddenly, his cock didn’t seem too big or too painful. It was filling her just right.
He didn’t move at first almost as if he remembered her pain from the night before. When he started moving it was slow and steady. His hands glided off her hips to touch her back, then around and under to squeeze her breasts, before trailing down. He didn’t flinch when he touched the scars on her lower abdomen.
She moaned. Questions, fears, doubts, fights, everything went out the window as she focused on pleasure. His hands returned to her hips as he gripped them to thrust into her harder. She eagerly pushed her hips back to meet him. The lube helped things immensely. She wasn’t even sure if she was going to come again. Not that it mattered, he felt so good. This was what she imagined her first time would be like. Not scared, in pain and fighting, but willing and needing his cock. Although, she would have preferred good old missionary style for the intimacy. Deep long kissing, trapping his head between her legs while he ate her out.
Her legs quivered. He pulled her back, holding her body tight to his. He used his strength to push her down onto his cock when he thrusted up. Not that he needed to do it, although she was grateful. It made her feel less like she was cooperating as if he had to force her body to do what he wanted it to do.
Fuck me! Her brain demanded she yelled. She somehow managed to keep the words trapped in her throat. But not her own sounds of pleasure. Those were impossible. Their breathing was mismatched but just as deep, ragged, and rapid. They were both mixing moans and groans with him adding a grunt between those. One hand played with her breasts, while the other slid back down to fondle her pussy.
She didn’t want to come on his cock. That would be too much. If that was his intentions he suddenly pulled his hand away, placing both of them on her hips again as he picked up his pace. She grabbed the counter, meeting his every thrust. All sorts of words and sounds wanted to come out of her, but she managed to only let the sounds come out.
His voice pitched just a little bit higher. He was about to cum in her again. He grunted, smashing himself into her, pulling her hips back hard to press them both together while he came. She didn’t care as she leaned down against the counter.
They both gasped for air, trying their best to catch their breaths. His body weight against her was a weird comfort. She wasn’t even sure how she was keeping her shaky legs up. She really wanted to relax and cuddle. That was never going to happen though. Loneliness hit her hard as her mind cleared. This was her life now. She’d spend her days alone, he’d come back from his murdering and fuck her, and then she’d be alone again. His gentle caresses had teased her of what could but would never be. Pushing all of her emotions back, she stood up straight and turned.
He was standing behind her. His expression was impossible to read as he examined her. The action of her breasts rising and falling deeply as she continued to try and recover, seemed to catch his focus. He reached out and massaged a nipple, teasing it a little. That action alone cemented what she believed. But, why expect any more from him? See, she told her stupid side that couldn’t help but hope for more.
She looked down at the floor, waiting for him to leave her alone so she could put on her dress and go to her room to sulk. His hand trailed up her neck, making her look at him. There was something about his eyes. He brushed his fingers along her left cheek, using his thumb to rub it.
What are you doing? She opened her mouth to ask him, anger building up in her. But then his left hand reached up and he cupped her face. He leaned in. Before she could properly figure out what was happening, he abruptly reached behind her, grabbed his knife from the counter, and stalked off, picking up his clothes before heading up the stairs.
Gretchen stared after him. Her mind was a bit of a jumbled mess, partially appreciating his naked ass, while also trying to figure out what he was trying to do when he cupped her face. Her mind refused to contemplate on anything anymore. It was done functioning for the day. Her body agreed. She was barely able to scoop her dress off the ground and slip on her underwear to keep herself from dripping on the floor. Of course, she’d be left with the cleanup.
She trudged up the stairs unsure if she even had the energy to take a shower. Don’t you dare let his cum stay in you overnight again, she chastised herself. The shower was quick almost completely void of thought. Slipping on her pajamas that was a pair of silk shorts and a tank top, she easily slid into bed. It took sleep a moment to claim her as one last thought popped up into her head. He didn’t even know her name.
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Object of Obsession