A Special Letter

Brad cracked his neck, smiling a little as the door to his apartment block finally closed behind him. It had been a long day and he was glad to be home, albeit late. He was so tired, and so glad to be back, that his mood wasn't even ruined when a complete stranger hurried down the steps and bumped into him, completely knocking him over.

"Oh! So sorry!" She said briskly, extending a hand to help Brad up.

"No worries" He replied politely, accepting her help "Happens to the best of us!"

"Well, still, I apologise sweetheart, I should have been watching where I was going." She seemed regretful, but Brad still got an odd feeling when he looked at her. She seemed jittery, her deep brown eyes gleaming just a little too brightly when they met his for a second, seeming to pierce into his very soul before she hurriedly looked away.

"Anyway, I really must be going, I was already late before our little mishap!" She let out a nervous titter before brushing past him and out of the door, her long black hair almost whipping him in the face with her haste. Brad shook his head. He knew the people on his side of town tended to be a bit odd but that was unlike anything he had experienced before. Slightly rattled, Brad decided to put it out of his mind and enjoy his night.

A few hours later, Brad was bathed, fed and comfortable on his couch. Usually by now he would be deep in the arms of relaxation, wearing his fuzzy slippers and favourite pyjamas, but tonight something just felt wrong. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt like there was something making the air around him heavier, harder to breathe.

"I need some fresh air..." Brad muttered to himself. Deciding to forgo getting dressed again, even in the coldness of the evening, he walked over to his coat and jerked it off the rack, startling a little when something flew out of the pocket and brushed against his leg before falling to the floor.

It was a small brown envelope. Laying face down on his entryway floor, it looked innocent enough, but looking back on his day, Brad couldn't remember being handed it, nor taking it to carry something in. Crouching, he poked gingerly at the letter, as if it would grow teeth and lunge at him if he wasn't careful.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" He muttered to himself, feeling anger mix with the dread in his gut. He snatched the envelope from the floor, tearing into it and tossing it to the floor as he extracted the pink paper inside. It smelled faintly of perfume that tickled the back of his memory and the writing adorning it was in neat cursive, with small hearts above the I's.

"Hi Darling!

I know you must be a little confused, and maybe even scared! There's no need to be so silly, I'm not going to hurt you. At least, not if you behave yourself. You see, I've been watching you, for a long long time. I'm tired of waiting. I want you. You're already mine, so I'm really just claiming what I already own, but I want to do it properly. I want to treat you well. So well that you'll never need to look at another woman, much less interact with them. So, I'm going to give you one chance. At exactly midnight, I'm going to buzz your apartment. You'll let me up, and I'll show you exactly what it feels like to be mine. If you behave well, you'll have no reason to be worried gorgeous, I promise!

However... If you don't let me up, or you call the police, or if you don't behave yourself, I promise you, your punishments will be more severe than you can imagine. For example, your first punishment: I've had your laptop bugged for a few months now. I've seen every single thing you watch, every video and story you've touched yourself to. It's been lovely to watch, and I'm sure all your friends and family would agree. So if you don't behave, I'll show them. Every single co-worker, family member, friend or acquaintance. Best take a look at the clock! If I can't get in the door, I have plenty of other ways in!

Kisses!

Your fated darling"

By the time he reached the end of the letter, Brad was sweating. His eyes were wide and he was hyperventilating, heart pounding against his ribcage as he fought against the panic attack slowly rising in his gut. His head was whirling with a million thoughts, hands shaking as he forced himself to swallow the bile rising in his throat. With great effort, he dragged his eyes away from the pale pink paper in his hands, forcing himself to look at the clock on the wall. Five minutes to midnight.

Shit.

Pacing, Brad tried to calm his brain, tried to push rational thought to the front of his mind and think of a safe and sensible way to deal with the situation, but it was impossible with the maelstrom of thoughts whirling around his head. His troubled thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud buzz. Hurrying over to the intercom, he activated the speaker.

"Uhm... hello?"

"Hi sweetheart! Will you be a good boy and let me up please?" a pleasant voice echoed through the tinny speakers.

"I-i don't think that's a good idea, but I hope you have a nice night!" Brad squeaked in reply, moving to turn the speaker off.

"Now, that's not very well behaved is it darling? Remember, I know you like the back of my hand. I know you want to be good for me." The voice crooned softly, but even though the crappy speakers Brad could hear a harsh edge to it, and the promise of repercussion if it's owner wasn't obeyed. In a panic, he flipped the speaker off, rushing to turn off all the lights in his apartment.

Fifteen minutes later, Brad was shivering on his couch, in the middle of one of the worst panic attacks of his life. Clutching at the fabric of the couch to keep him grounded, he flinched as the door handle rattled harshly. She had found a way into the building.

"Oh sweetheart... you should have let me in when I asked..." came the soft crooning voice through the door, without the tinny speakers, Brad could hear clearly the true extent of the underlying anger to the voice, likely intensified by his 'disobedience.'

"Now, I'm going to give you one last chance to let me in, babydoll. You know now that I'm not joking, I can and will get in, and I will ruin your life if I have to expend more effort than necessary." Brad's blood turned to ice at the threat, but he forced himself to sit still. Suddenly, his phone dinged. Unknown contact.

Sweetheart, please watch this video, for me?

Heart in his stomach, Brad muted his phone and opened the attached MP4 file, his screen filling with a degrading sight. Himself, from the POV of his laptop's camera, legs spread and a buttplug stuffed into his hole. His back arched in ecstasy as his fist flew up and down his cock, which was an angry red and throbbing. He had clearly been going at it a while. Covering the second half of the screen was a porn film he had remembered watching quite recently. It was one of a pretty girl "forcing" a young man to deepthroat another man's cock. Even in his current situation, Brad was slightly mesmerised by the sight, breathless as he watched the young man deepthroat with a practiced ease, even as Brad himself was climaxing on the screen, needy whines and moans spilling from his lips as he covered himself with seed.

"See Sweetheart? I would never lie to my baby boy. Now, are you going to let me in, or do I have to make this incredibly unpleasant for us both?" The honied words floated through the thick wooden door and into Brad's defeated ears, making him flinch. With a deep, resigned sigh, he heaved himself to his feet and, on wobbly legs, stumbled to the door, undoing the locks.

"Good boy!" Came the voice, practically vibrating with excitement as its owner heard the heavy clink of locks. Brad finally threw open the door to confront his tormentor.

Familiar brown eyes stared back at him, curtained by long black hair that flowed behind her slight shoulders. Her features, disarmingly delicate, were twisted into a mask of unparalled glee, almost frenzied as her tall frame advanced, pushing him backwards into the apartment and slamming the door behind her.

"You.. the stairwell.. I-"

"Do you believe in fate, Darling?" The woman asked, continuing without waiting for an answer "Because up until this very day, I did not. I thought it was a very cute notion, but dismissed it. But now? My mind has been changed. You see, I was in here today, trying to find the perfect spot to leave my special letter to you, when I was overcome with what can only be described as fear. Imagining how it could all go wrong and you could slip through my fingers like sand, I left. Then, then I bumped into you! Fate was telling me it was time!"

Her explanation was rambling and frantic, a slightly unhinged look growing in her eyes to match the obsessive joy on her face as she stalked towards Brad, forcing him move back further and further until his knees hit the arm of the couch and he fell heavily onto his back, paralysed with fear as she slowly crawled up his body, straddling him and grinding her jeans into his crotch. Brad was horrified. He was hyperaware of every tiny twitch and jolt of the body above him and despite the bile rising in his throat and panic clawing at his brain, he could feel his body reacting, his cock slowly thickening in his jeans as guilty, awful arousal blossomed in his stomach.

With one final, desperate move, Brad slowly inched his hand up over his head, reaching for the side table that was next to the couch, and currently held a fairly hefty paperweight. If he could just reach that, then he would be able to hopefully knock her out and call the police. Reluctantly, Brad rolled his hips up to meet hers, causing her to squeal a little in excitement, but also pushing him a few precious inches across the cushions. A few more half hearted thrusts and Brad's probing fingers found wood, straining upwards until-

Dread rushed through him as he heard a click.

"Sweetheart, now.. what are you up to down there? Surely, you didn't think you could hurt me hm?" her sickly sweet voice made his stomach turn. He looked up at her to see her idly caressing the silver blade of a pink-handled pocket knife, which she slowly, deliberately, began to press against his neck, until a small drop of blood ran down his skin.

"Please darling, try to be a good boy for me, and I won't have to use this too much, yeah?" She simpered, with a tone of voice that would suggest butter doesn't melt. But by now, Brad knew better. This woman was dangerous, and he would have to tread carefully. As he was distracted, she placed the tip of the blade on his abdomen, trailing it down the hair there until she got to the elastic waistline of his pyjamas. With a vicious smile, the knife dug into them, slicing the thin fabric to ribbons and exposing his bare pelvis. His dick sat heavily, half hard in a forest of pubic hair and when she laid eyes on it, they lit up like a dog given a juicy new bone to play with. Brad struggled, but her weight pushing down on his thighs had him trapped, and the moment she grabbed his cock, his body convulsed with pleasure. The first time he had ever been touched by a woman, and it was at knifepoint. The stimulation, however, was far too much, and his cock was awake and throbbing, a fat, cloudy pearl of pre-cum drooling from the tip and tracing a path down his shaft. Brad cried out as her tongue chased it down, catching it just before it dripped onto his balls, which were already tight and ready to shoot from the tiny amount of stimulation she had given him.

"Oh sweetheart, it must be such a struggle.. living like this. Don't you want someone to make it all better?" She crooned, stroking a thumb down his cheek gently, clipping the switchblade to her neckline, directly in front of her cleavage.

"No.. I don't want to..." Brad moaned, but it was futile, his dick was throbbing, practically ready to burst, and he could do nothing to fight the rising pleasure as she languidly jerked him off.

"It doesn't matter what you want sweetheart, you're going to do as I say, and be a good boy."

"No... no no please no!"

"Cum for me. Show your brain what your body already knows, that you belong to me."

And with those commanding words, Brad came. It happened so suddenly it caught him off guard and his hips arched upwards off the couch, great white arcs of cum shooting from his tip, landing everywhere, on his face, shirt, hips, until finally, mercifully, the last few drops dribbled pathetically onto her hand, coating her fingers in warm cum, which she proceeded to lift to his lips.

"Open up, be a good boy for me now." She requested and, with a quick look at the switchblade still hanging from her neckline, Brad obeyed, allowing her to coat his tongue in the slimy, salty substance. As her hand drifted back down to gather up more of it from his chest and stomach, brad sniffled once and the dam broke. He began to cry, fat ugly tears running down his face and staining the fabric of the couch. The hand resting on his face gathered a few up, gently wiping his face off before moving to his hair to stroke it in what might have been a motherly fashion, if the other hand wasn't forcefully pushing his own cum down his throat. Every time he cringed, he felt the hand in his hair threaten to tighten.

"Oh, Sweetheart, it's okay, we're together now. You'll never need to cry again. Although... you do look so fucking pretty when you cry..." Her words were spoken though a bitten lip, sounding strained, as if she was excersising great restraint. Brad felt a shiver go through him at her complete delusion.

"I don't-"

"Of course you do Darling. You want whatever I want. Don't you?" Her voice lowered dangerously.

"I-I guess..."

"Good boy! Don't you worry, we can work on those manners" Her smile was back, voice returning to the prim, kind tone she had spotted earlier. "Now, you've had your fun, it's time for me to take what I want! If you're very very well behaved, I may even let you fuck me tonight"

At her words, his traitorous cock twitched, the terror clouding his mind at war with the fog of arousal that had began to seep in, flooding him with images of what she might have planned.

"Ooh, someone likes that idea?" She smiled "Now, I need to de-stress a little okay?"

Before Brad could even process her actions, she had stood, dropped her jeans and panties, and straddled his face, trapping his face between her thick thighs and smothering him in her scent. A few moments passed as Brad's brain caught up with the situation, but as soon as it did, he immediately began to struggle, clawing at her thighs and attempting to wriggle out from beneath her. His panic was causing his oxygen supply to dwindle, which only worsened when he felt her hands press down on his neck, further cutting off his brain's oxygen and causing his vision to fray slightly at the edges. He felt like he was about to pass out when suddenly she lifted slightly, allowing him to take a desperate gasp of air, consequently also taking a deep of whiff of her musky arousal. But he didn't care, the air he was gulping down was more valuable than gold to him.

"Now sweetheart, that's the last you're getting, so I'd suggest that you go ahead and pleasure me, because if you pass out before I cum, the consequences will not be pleasant."

Brad believed her. When she lowered herself down to his face again, thankfully without the choking, instead of panicking, he cast his mind back to the copious amounts of porn stories he had read and their detailed descriptions of oral techniques. Even in the worst situations, he could at least be proud of his pragmatism. Sticking his tongue out, Brad awkwardly turned his head to lick up her thighs. A small sigh from above spurred him on and he timidly explored her thighs with his tongue, working his way closer to her core, which was so wet that it was dripping onto his cheek. Brad could physically feel the heat emanating from her pussy as he drew closer, and he was so focused on getting this ordeal over with, that he jumped as her hands encircled his throat again, not hard enough to choke, but enough to be a clear threat. Keep going. So he did. He slowly parted her folds with his tongue, delving deeper and getting lost in her musk. Licking higher, he felt her twitch as his tongue hit a particular spot and, realising what exactly he had hit, he focused his tongue on that area, pressing the flat of his tongue against her clit and gently teasing it, before a quick clutch on his throat spurred him on to be a little rougher, dragging his tongue across the tiny nub until he felt her thighs tighten around his head.

Totally drunk on her musk, Brad had totally forgotten the situation he was in. He smirked inwardly as he backed off, instead delving into her folds again, mapping out the ridges of her core in head, which was spinning with her head. He was having fun exploring, at least until he felt cold steel back at his throat.

"Sweetheart, behave and make me cum. I've waited long enough for this." Her muffled instructions were like a bucket of ice water over his head, and the bite of the blade to his neck made the fear and panic rush back, practically magnetising his tongue to her clit again, as he massaged it roughly, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, the press of her thighs against his head keeping him trapped where he lay until finally, mercifully, she stiffened and her soft gasps turned into one long, drawn out moan, the switchblade falling out of her hand (and slicing brad a little on its way down) and clattering against the floor as she slumped against his chest. Finally, with a little fresh air, Brad's head stopped spinning a little.

If he could just reach that knife..

But do we really want to? A fleeting, dangerous part of his brain thought. I mean, this is everything we've ever wanted!

She has a knife! The reasonable part of his brain argued. If she wasn't attracted to us, we would be dead by now!

But she is! This is like, every single wet dream we've ever had rolled into one. If we don't fight back, she has no reason to hurt us!

This entire situation is fucked. We need to get out of here. Quick grab that knife and try to act tough!

Stifling the traitorous part of his mind that simply wanted to lay beneath her for eternity, Brad began to shuffle a little, parting her legs and giving his arms a little more freedom to move. But before he could even begin to move, she stood, picking up the knife and driving it a good few inches into his coffee table. Brad gulped.

"Oh baby boy that was incredible. I haven't cum like that in a long time- maybe ever!" She enthused, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him up into a sitting position. For the first time he noticed that she was topless, leaving her totally naked bar a pair of lilly white socks on her feet. She pressed him back into the cushions of the couch and, with slightly wobbly legs, sat herself in his lap. Grimacing, Brad found his dick to be once again concerningly hard considering the circumstances.

"Bradley, look at me" He complied "This is the rest of our lives. I promise I will always treat you so so right, and you'll never have to worry about anything ever again! You won't even have to watch those silly videos, because I'll be here to recreate them with you! Maybe we can even make our own... you won't need to leave the house if we get rich from selling videos online, and I can feed your little exhibitionism kink too!"

Brad felt his dick jump a little as she began to slowly stroke him, lifting her hips as her eyes shone with tears.

"I love you Bradley" was all she said as she took him all the way to the hilt.

Brad's only reply was a strangled moan as he immediately began to cum, the intense heat, pressure and pleasure of her tight inner walls ripping an orgasm out of him almost immediately. He tried to push her off, scrabbling at her hips, but unable to budge her as she began to slowly ride him, his cock somehow staying hard despite the cum currently oozing down his shaft as she forced him to keep fucking her. In no time, the feeling of being inside of a woman for the first time had a second orgasm building deep in his gut, and he whimpered, eyes watering in pain and shock.