The Sleeping Devil

I was an innocent second year college good girl when I first met Jaysin at a party. I really hadn't wanted to be there but I'd been coerced by several friends into being their designated driver. It was the dead of winter, a super cold January night, and I was standing, shivering, by a bonfire, trying to expose as much of myself to it's heat as possible while keeping the side away from the heat warm. It was a losing battle. Jaysin spoke to me, he was the only other one at the party, it appeared, who was not either drinking or doing some form of illegal drugs.

He was tall, probably about six feet or more, I guessed, and that alone intimidated me. I couldn't see his hair as it was under a dark blue or black toboggan, hard to tell in the dim firelight. His clothes weren't like the rest of the preppie college types, he wore the dress of a working man. Torn jeans, heavy dark coat with what might have been several different colors of paint and some dirt too. His hand, the one that I could see as the other was in his coat pocket, was rough, calloused. He had the beginnings of a goatee and sidebars, and though his features were that of a younger man, his eyes belied him, told that he had lived too long in too short of a time. Life had been hard for Jaysin, and in return, Jaysin had learned to be hard right back. "What's your name?" he asked and I shied away from him a bit.

"Cassidy." I replied, looking into his piercing blue eyes and feeling, from his stare alone, that he was not someone to betray or lie to. A feeling of apprehension came over me in a nearly nauseating wave, but I was so afraid of him that I dared not move in case he got angry at me for being rude or snobby, neither of which were even remote traits I carried.

He moved a little closer to me and said, in a deep voice that made chill bumps come up for a completely different reason, "Another fallen angel, perhaps?" He said, more to himself than aloud, then searched my eyes as if a response and when I offered none verbally and he apparently didn't see what he was looking for on my face he smiled and said, "No, I think not.But don't worry, I can help you with that."

At that moment a giggling college freshman girl I recognized from campus came up and grabbed his arm. "Let's go, baby, I'm tired and it's fuckin freezing out here." She took notice of me and her eyes narrowed suspiciously, pulling his arm a little harder. He shook her off impatiently, roughly.

"Go wait in the car Amanda." he said and she stomped her foot impatiently and made an annoyed sound. He turned to her and said, in an imperious tone, but without raising his voice, "Go, NOW!" Amanda quailed under his stare and then looked at me and I read in her eyes that she was utterly terrified of the man between us, but the look was quickly replaced by contempt for me. She turned and stormed away and he turned his attention back to me. "I'm sorry about that, she's about to not be a problem anymore, so why don't we get together?"

"I...I don't..." I stammered and he smiled again, and again it did not touch his eyes, which were beginning to draw my attention most curiously.

"I'll see you soon." He handed me a worn piece of paper with his name and number on it and I found myself tucking it into my pocket almost mechanically, as if I couldn't stop myself. I noticed his name was Jaysin and marvelled at the spelling, though it was soon forgotten, it would not be for long.

For a week, the little slip of paper lay unnoticed on my dresser, until late one Friday night I was awakened by my apartment phone ringing. I received a jolt of unpleasant recognition as I looked at the caller I.D., it was his number, I remembered it though I'd never really paid it much attention. I answered as sleepily as I could so that he'd know he'd called too late. "H-hello?" I faked a yawn for added effect.

"Do you know who this is?" he asked and I paused knowing I couldn't lie, it was too late. The pause had betrayed me, he'd know I knew no matter what I said.

"Y-yes, this is Jaysin...how did you get this number?" I asked, becoming a little uncomfortable, as if I could feel his ice blue stare through the phone. His voice was deep and his tone friendly but guarded, as I hoped mine was.

"Oh a little of this and that." he said in a non-commital tone, blowing off my question, then he said, "I thought I might stop by your place tonight and we could hang out."

"I...I don't think..." the door buzzer sounded and at the exact same moment the phone call ended. It couldn't be him, I thought, how would he have found me? "Shit!" I exclaimed to myself as I hurried to the speaker praying it was one of my friends. "Y-yes?"

"You gonna let me in or not?" he said and despite my misgivings I found my hand automatically moving to the button to unlock the downstairs door. I paused in mid-movement, staring at my trembling fingers, wanting to stop but then my hand jerked forward and hit the switch quickly releasing it, hoping he hadn't had time to get the door open. A few moments later he knocked so lightly on my door I thought there was some mistake, but also knew it was done so as not to make too much noise. I opened the door and he strode into my apartment and stopped, waiting for me to close the door. His looks were greatly improved, or either I had remembered him differently due to the uncomfortable situation of the party and the cold and my general fear of him then. He was still just as tall, I could see his hair now, it was light brown that was more blonde towards the end, and it was beginning to get long, so he was obviously letting it grow for whatever reason. His sidebars were neatly trimmed but his goatee was longer and a bit out of control for my liking, but I could forgive him that, I supposed, as I appraised him.

"I...yes." I said to him, feeling myself begin to blush uncontrollably as his ice blue eyes slid over me, he was appraising my appearance as well. I was dressed for bed, wearing old blue flannel pajama pants and a thin white cotton tank top that I was pretty sure even in the dim light from the living room lamp he could see right through, and I wasn't wearing a bra. I crossed my arms to cover my breasts, I'd glanced down and seen that my nipples were rather prominent owing to my having been gotten out of my warm bed so suddenly. "I'm a little uncomfortable with you being here."

"Oh, come on, now, girl, I'm harmless." he smiled and moved into the living room, taking a seat on my threadbare sofa. He looked around the room quietly for a moment and then back at me. "Nice place you've got here...for a college kid."

"Thanks." I said, perching on my old recliner nervously. I could feel my hands shaking and wound them in my lap to prevent him from noticing, if he hadn't already. "How...how old are you?"

"Thirty-four this year. And you would be right about twenty or twenty-one?" he asked and I nodded, I was twenty-one, but then he could have asked anyone that. I was staring intently at the wooden floor to avoid meeting his eyes. "You got something to drink?"

"I...I'll get it for you." I said and hurried into the kitchen, letting the swinging door shut behind me. I grabbed a glass out of the cabinet and as I turned to the refrigerator and collided with Jaysin, who had followed me, silently. Startled, I dropped the glass but with quick reflexes he caught the glass before it even came close to shattering on the tile floor and handed it back to me, smiling. "Thanks..." I said, blushing, furious at myself for the way I was behaving. He waved off my gratitude with a good natured gesture and move out of my way to lean against the counter, I noticed the tattoos on his arms for the first time, I realized he'd taken off his coat and was wearing a sleeveless shirt, which struck me as odd for wintertime. "You got a CD player? This place needs some music."

"A...yes, in my room." I said, without thinking, and before I could continue I'd really rather he didn't go in there he had already disappeared from the kitchen, leaving behind him a slight hint of cologne that was rather pleasant though I'd be damned before I admitted it. I poured him a drink and then fixed myself one as well and walked stiffly back to my bedroom, my hands shaking so badly I could barely keep from spilling the drinks. I jumped in the hallway at the sound of extremely heavy metal suddenly blaring from my stereo. The volume turned down slightly, I realized he was adjusting it to not disturb my neighbors and mused to myself that at least he was polite about that. "Your...your drink."

"Thank you." he said, sitting on my bed and looking around. I had a king sized bed my parents had given me as a gift for my first apartment. It had been a bitch getting it in but I loved having it because at my modest five foot six inches in height it was a massive bed and I could sleep any way I wanted to lay and never find an edge from the middle. I had black sheets and blankets and several types of different wall hangings of dragons and things over dark purple walls. Around the ceiling I'd hung miniature blacklights and figured if he was going to see the room he might as well get the whole effect. I plugged them in and turned off the main light by pulling the cord, leaving the black lacquer ceiling fan on low. He looked suitably impressed at the decorations and nodded. He looked down at his feet which were on a thick black faux-fur rug that spanned the complete underside of my bed, I didn't like cold hardwoods on my bare feet first thing in the morning. "This is a cool room. I usually like to see a woman's bedroom before I'll even consider dating her. I can pretty much tell what kind of person she is just by that."

"Are you still with Amanda?" I asked, remembering that I hadn't seen her at any of the restaurants or even on campus for quite some time, and seeking desperately any topic of conversation. "I used to see her every day and now that I think about it I haven't seen her in a while." I saw from his expression I shouldn't have asked just a moment too late. For a moment he looked annoyed but then his expression became blank, completely unreadable.

"Yes...regrettable circumstances with that one." He sighed and took a long drink. "She was a bit too...obsessive."

I didn't know what to say in response, so I remained silent for a long while, leaning against the door jamb. Finally I braved another attempt at conversation, "Why don't we move back into the living room where we can both sit down. I'd be more comfortable if..." I suggested.

"Now, why do that when there's a perfectly good bed right here." He cut me off and then slid over and patted me a spot beside him. I felt the color that had been so prominent in my face drain away suddenly as I stared at him. "Come on now, I told you, I'm harmless." The gentleness of his tone did not touch the coldness of his eyes when he spoke, and again that mechanical feeling came over me as I felt my legs moving me forward. I sat nervously against the headboard, well out of his immediate reach and stretching my legs out so that they were between us, my feet didn't come close to touching him. For a long while after I sat he kept his back to me, seeming to be entranced in the music blaring from my stereo, his hands and feet moving silently with the drums. After a time he stood and crossed the room, closing the door and unplugging my little blacklights. I immediately turned on the spider lamp by my bed and sat staring at him wide-eyed as he drew close to me.

I was leaning against the headboard, I drew my knees up to my chest, my breath began to come in short, silent gasps, trembling slightly. I felt my face burning. I'd never been alone in a room with a man in my life, and I could tell he knew this just from my behavior. He sat down closer to me now, allowing me to keep my legs between us, I could tell his intent was not to scare me but that he was enjoying my fear all the same. "What's the matter?" he asked in a soft deep voice.

"N-nothing." I gasped as he crawled past me and lay down on his side, facing me, staring at me so that I knew he wanted me to lay down, too. I didn't know what else to do, so I joined him, but with my back to him, my eyes and mouth closed tightly. I felt him slide up against me, felt him reach over me to turn off the lamp and then settle in behind me. . My arms were locked across my breasts protectively and I felt his hand slide around my waist and tightened my grip so that I began to tremble uncontrollably. His hand slid up, pushing it's way under my right arm, up until it found my breast. He rested his hand there lightly as if waiting for me to resist or refuse this advance. When I did not, he caressed my nipple gently, sending a wave of unwanted pleasure through me and then he squeezed it violently. I gasped from the pain, but didn't make a sound otherwise, and this seemed to encourage him to move further. "Take your shirt off." He said in my ear, his voice a growling whisper, his breath hot on the side of my face.

"W-what?" I asked, now literally shaking in absolute terror. "NO!" I exclaimed and with one deft movement he'd ripped it from my body so fast that I barely realized it was gone, so fast I didn't even hear it tear. He made a second movement and I knew he'd thrown it on the floor. "I-I liked that shirt." I said and he laughed coldly in my ear.

"We'll get this straight now. I am in control of you here, if no where else. Do as I say or suffer the consequences." He brought his right hand down on my right thigh extremely hard to back up his warning. "Learn that and we'll get along just fine...now, take off those pants or they'll go the same way as the shirt did."

I removed my pajama pants, blushing furiously, glad he could only barely see me in the dim light from the window which was almost completely covered. My back was still to him so that I was surprised when he slid back up against me, to feel his naked flesh against me, his hardened organ pressing against my back through his boxers I winced away from it and he pulled me back into him and slid it obscenely up the middle of my back. I'd had no experience at the time so I didn't know that he was extremely well endowed. "Let me feel that pussy." he whispered in my ear, hooking my panties with a thumb at my hip and sliding them down. I resisted his hand and received another sharp smack on my rear, this time, and two more times before I finally gave to his will. He slipped his hand down and whispered to me, "Not shaved...we'll have to change that, won't we?" he paused, I answered him with a terrified whimper and he gave another little laugh and said, "Yes, it will be shaved before I see you next."

I gave a tiny moan as his fingers found my opening, which was far from being wet, and he slid a thick finger into me and began to work me dryly at first, but then with mounting pressure I felt myself becoming wet against my will. He found my clitoris with his finger and caused me to jerk away from him and then, without warning, pulled me onto my back and though I struggled, thinking he was going to mount me, instead he worked his face down and began to lick at me hungrily. I cried out as an electric shock, an inter-mingling of pain and ecstacy flew through my body. He'd found my clitoris, and with every quick but light stroke of his tongue my legs jumped violently, involuntarily. "Am I hurting you, baby?" he asked almost innocently and I answered by thrusting my hips up, I didn't want him to stop, as much as I hated this, I wanted it as well.

"No...Yes...I don't know." I gasped and he laughed softly and continued his ravenous feasting. Quite suddenly, though, it ended and I felt him rising up and tensed, well aware of what was coming. He rubbed himself against me, against my clit and I moaned in fear and closed my eyes, turning my head away from him. I reached up to stop him, putting my hands weakly against his chest and he caught them both in his right hand which was still damp with my juices.

"Is this what you want?" he asked in that same soft growl and I didn't answer. He slapped my outer thigh and I nodded, not sure if he saw me but guessing that it wouldn't matter if I wanted it or not. "Are you sure?" he asked and this caused me to look at him, which was exactly what he wanted because at the exact moment our eyes met he forced himself into me and I cried out in pain and saw his eyes wickedly alight with excitement. After the initial thrust he was gentle for a moment, which wasn't so bad. His blue eyes, barely visible in the light from my window, locked on my own brown ones. He was staring at me with inherent evil in his eyes, malicious, darkness coming from him and yet he seemed to be so tender, but I was deceived. He leaned forward, pinning my hands to the bed and kissed me when our lips met he drove into me with such force it felt as if he'd knocked the air out of my lungs. I cried out and he broke the kiss and whispered, "What's on your mind, baby?"

"Scared..." I whispered and he leaned closer, so that I could smell the soft scent of him, and I spoke louder, though my voice was broken with a sudden urge to break down and cry, "I said 'scared.'"

"Why are you scared of me?" He thrust violently again and I felt the tears come to my eyes this time. I could smell blood but didn't know where it was coming from. He began to ride me at a regular rhythm now giving hard deep thrusts occasionally as though he enjoyed hearing me cry out in pain. His thrusting became more frantic and I closed my eyes in fear and shame digging my fingernails into his back in an attempt to stop him. He tensed, gave a shuddering moan, and collapsed, but not on me, rather propped on his own arms looking down at me though, for a fleeting moment, his eyes were closed, his face bore an expression of complete, evil ecstacy. He leaned down, kissing my neck gently. He pulled out of me and I felt his seed spill out onto the sheets as he sat up and stared down, smiling. "You're bleeding a bit."

I didn't say anything, just rolled onto my side, feeling confused and somewhat dirty. He left the room and returned with a towel, which he tossed at me and a towel for himself. He busied himself getting clean as thoroughly as he could without a shower but I remained where I was, trying not to stare at his nakedness. He had a nice physique, athletic, lean, but I didn't want to admit this to myself at the moment. I just wanted to hate him for having done this to me. He picked up the towel and threaded it between my legs gently, so that it would stop the seemingly endless procession of his fluids from inside of me. "I hate you." I whispered and tried to move away from him but pain seared through my abdomen and I groaned and lay still, feeling a sticky puddle of fluids under my left leg I fought off a wave of revulsion.

"No you don't." He smiled, laying down behind me, he pulled the covers up over us both and wrapped his strong arms around me and after a short time I felt his breathing grow deep and regular but I was locked in his arms, he was not going to let me go. I tried to stay awake, tried desperately, but failed. I felt myself slip off to sleep in his arms and I woke the next morning to an empty bed. Jaysin was gone.

I could barely stand the touch of the hot water when I sat down in the porcelain bathtub that morning. I sat and stared at the razor sitting in the soap-niche in the wall and thinking to myself if I dared to not do what he ordered. I didn't really think he'd be back, but if he did come back I was terrified of his wrath. Just the few times he'd spanked me the night before had left bruises on my unaccustomed skin. I did as he'd ordered, finally, and was amazed at the feeling that resulted from not having hair. I'd not had much to begin with, but not having any was completely different entirely. I slipped out of the bath and toweled off, wincing when I dried my abused lower region and then dressed in my usual old pajamas and chose a different shirt from the closet. I walked into the living room and stared at the television, which had been off the night before but was now on, the volume turned down. I grabbed the remote and turned it off and went into the kitchen and fixed myself a small breakfast before going into my spare bedroom, which doubled as a computer room. There I was stunned to find a CD with no markings laying on my keyboard. I put it into my disc tray and closed it and my spoon fell into the bowl with a clatter. There, before me, was a video of Jaysin taking my virginity. At first I reached to close it, but a sudden dark thrill raced through me and I sat through the entire performance, feeling myself becoming wetter with each thrust he delivered me on the screen. I wondered where he was and if I'd see him again, and then, realizing that I had just thought that about him, felt sick with myself. Still, I checked my cellphone and was disappointed to find the number deleted, though I knew I hadn't done it. Then I realized I'd had his number all along and hurried into my bedroom to retrieve it, only to find, in it's place a note that read, "Such a shame." I shuddered. He'd known I'd want to call him and done this to prevent it. I straightened myself and set myself to the task of not caring if he came back or not. I wouldn't call him, I told myself, and when he called I wouldn't talk to him.