(alt View) Shadow at the Movie

Author's Note:

This story is inspired by and based on "Shadow at the Movie" by Napkinholder. I have written this alternative version with his explicit permission. All rights to the original plot and character remain with him. You can find the original story here:

https://www.literotica.com/s/shadow-at-the-movie

Thank you, Napkinholder, for allowing me to reimagine your story!

...

"Good girl," his voice still rings in my head as I walk to the restroom. I can't keep my thoughts straight as I try to piece this puzzle together. This puzzle my life has become that feels insurmountable.

Just moments ago I was simply walking to the counter to buy my movie ticket. As I approached I noticed a man who was slightly overdressed for the occasion. I had thought nothing of it because oh well, some people like to dress up for the movies. "He would have a better costume...," my naive mind rationalized.

"Little Mouse."

Frozen. My breathing, my body, my entire world, everything except my heart which suddenly felt like it would pound right through my chest. I started to question if I heard it or if my paranoia was getting the better of me. He can't actually be he-

"Found you." Fuck. I frantically looked from the attendant handing over my ticket to my friends that had started to head over to the concession stand, adrenaline taking over as I debated my options. "10 p.m.," he says as I finally turn to face him. He's really here...

"Sarah! Hurry up!" I hear my friends call for me, but it's as if my body had forgotten how to function on its own. I was still frozen, unable to process the situation, this new reality. He was here, standing in front of me.

"Go." My body, as if given the permission it required, finally remembered how to walk as I turned from him and ran to my friends. I'm relieved they didn't ask who he was, relieved I didn't have to explain the warmth spreading through my body down to between my legs... I brush it off as anxiety... The fact that he's actually here is so unfathomable I still can't process it, and I can barely be present enough to interact with my group, my mind too full of questions. What is he doing here? Well, obviously he's here for me. but I never thought he'd go through with it.

As we find our seats my mind continues its slideshow of everything he could do to me. I keep checking the theater for him, but still no sign. I have no idea what I'd do if I saw him in here, but maybe it'd put me slightly more at ease to see where he is physically. That way at least I'd know he wasn't hiding behind me waiting to choke me. The thought oddly makes me stifle a giggle. After a few minutes the lights start to dim and I take my phone out to mute it, and check the time...

8:45 p.m. No texts. Suddenly the time he stated pops into my head. Finally processing. What is he going to do to me at 10?... There's no way he expects me to just... comply... Right? That thought is immediately contradicted by the sudden dampness between my legs. I know what he wants. What he demands of me. And there's no escaping him now.

I try to redirect my attention to the movie and hanging out with my friends. After what seems like an eternity I panic and check the time. 9:55 p.m.

My body feels compelled to get up, but I couldn't possibly go through with this! It's completely out of the question. I should call the cops. My life is literally in danger, and my body wants me to walk right into the lion's den.

But his threats are not empty. And he definitely didn't come all this way just to talk...

Now I can't tell if I actually need to go to the bathroom or if my body decided for me that this is the rational thing to do. Why do I always get a large soda?... I literally never finish it.

So I got up. My body practically carried itself down the aisle towards the exit and into the hallway to the restrooms. As I round a corner, I freeze again. There he is, casually leaning against the wall right in front of me. He looks like the most nonchalant fucker I've ever seen. Anger gets the better of me and I take a few steps forward, momentary confidence driving me, ready to confront him. Until he raises his hand with one finger raised, motioning me to stop, and my body immediately complies against my will. The only thing keeping me standing now is my stubbornness against this heavy weight of shame in my chest. What the hell is happening to me? It's like I've completely lost myself.

I snap out of it as he points across the hall to the bathrooms, indicating that I need to keep walking. It's like he knows what I'm thinking and is stopping my train of thought before I can talk myself out of this weird, fucked up twilight zone where he controls me. And I see no escape...

My words catch in my throat, unable to argue but unwilling to simply relent. I'm already so mentally exhausted from this constant internal fight. I can't do this..., and he knows it. But sadly, at the same time, I'm still curious to see what he'll do to me. So I continue walking.

What do they say? Curiosity killed the cat with a boring fucking life so she turned into an adrenaline seeking junkie and followed her stalker into a dark alley thinking he'd simply give her the ride of her life and instead raped and killed her? Probably not exactly like that but I've made my point.

As I pass by him he whispers, "good girl," just loud enough for only me to hear. His words sending the most exhilarating shocks throughout my body, deep down into my bones. And I immediately want more. I

need

more of that smallest whiff of his cologne I catch. I can feel it embedding into my skin. I secretly hope it lasts, like when you smell your boyfriend's cologne on your pillow or his shirt he left behind, hugging it and imagining he's still there. Now I can't tell if my body is buzzing with excitement or fear... Probably both, and that gets me even more turned on.

Then I'm in the bathroom, the door slowly shutting behind me as I enter a stall. Halfway to it the door burst open, my head pivoting towards the sound, but it's just two drunk girls giggling incessantly. I breathe the heaviest sigh of relief as I finally enter the stall, patiently waiting for them to leave before I relieve myself. Once they finally leave I momentarily forget why I actually came in here, until I stand and see his shadow on the floor leaking into my stall...

I must be imagining all of this because there's no way I voluntarily came in here and this is really happening. I'm alone in the bathroom with my stalker...

I'll definitely be committed if I live to tell about this.

After a skipped heartbeat my breathing resumes. Though it feels more difficult now to get air in as I start silently panting, my legs give out as I fall to the floor in a crouch. I slowly look up and peer through the crack in the door, hoping I've gone crazy and there's no one there, but he is... Standing there staring right back at me, a skull bandana covering the lower half of his face. It feels like an eternity of us just staring at each other, taking it all in, my chest getting increasingly tighter as reality starts to crush me.

I hear the scuff of his leather boots on the floor as he crouches down to peer under the door at me, his head cocked sideways. It's almost kind of adorable, like a little mouse...

"Come out." A simple command, but I refuse to move. My body suddenly finding some independence from his words.

"If you don't come out, I will have to pull you out." Please...

Wait, wha-

I shut down that train of thought and comply. He is anything but empty threats. I reach up and fumble with the door lock and slowly swing the door open, my body now uncontrollably shaking with fear.

The second the door is open to him he reaches down and grabs my wrist, yanking me up off the floor. He pulls me over to the sinks and instructs me, my body betraying me again and doing as he says. I'm now leaning over the counter of the sink, both my forearms resting on either side of the sink. My legs are spread, back perfectly arched, exposed and ready for him. I look down into the sink, overwhelmed with humiliation. How could I let this happen? Do I really have this little control over my body? Or does a small part of me deep inside just... want him...?

My contemplation is interrupted by his hands running up my ass, then down the sides of my hips, immediately sending pleasure straight to my already throbbing pussy. They continue their exploration of my body down my legs, around my calves, then back up to the inner parts of my thighs. He has to know how wet this is making me as his fingers slightly dig in... My thighs involuntarily squeezing from excitement. A soft, airy "Fuck..." slips out of me.

He then lifts my skirt, exposing my thong. After a couple breaths I feel him lean in close over me, pushing his growing bulge up against my now soaked pussy, which he can definitely feel through my sorry excuse for underwear. It makes me whimper. Shame starts creeping back in-

The feeling is cut off again by his roaming hands, running back up my sides, one to my shoulder and the other roughly tangling in my hair. He pulls my head up, forcing me to look at myself in the mirror. It's utterly humiliating, yet at the same time arousing. Fuck my mind. What did I do to deserve this? He's just standing there, holding me in place, forcing me to watch him torture me.

Just then he presses his now fully hard cock harder into the fabric against me, forcing me to bite my lip to hold in another embarrassing whimper. I'm close to begging him to fuck me now as he pulls my thong down, my pussy dripping onto the floor with anticipation. He puts his cock beneath me, letting me drip on him... Fuck that's hot... I can't breathe.

He removes the one hand from my shoulder to start massaging himself, little moans slipping out as he does. My body responds to them by arching my back more, baring my pussy to him as much as possible. I'm panting again, but this time for an entirely different reason. I need him.

Then I feel it.

His tip presses against me, my soaked lips easily spreading for him as he slowly enters me, forcing a low moan out of me. It already feels too good, I can't handle this...

"What if somebody comes in..." I ask. Even if they did, I'm almost positive I wouldn't have the strength to stop.

"It's locked." Thank fucking God.

He continues slowly pushing inside me, my pussing practically pulling him in. I'm completely drenched and it causes the faintest noises as he fills me. I squeeze myself on him inside me as he gently pulls out to the tip just outside my entrance, then feel him ever so slowly enter me again...

How could I ever fight something that feels this good? It's like our bodies are meant for eachother, like two puzzle pieces finally coming together. I can't believe I've gone this long without it. And I know now that I'll never be able to go without it again.

My stalker is gently fucking me in the theater bathroom...

My head is dizzy with pleasure and disbelief as he starts pumping into me a little faster, his balls now slapping my clit, and my pussy hungrily accepts it, gripping each thrust as it comes. I grip the counter tighter to keep from falling, but I'm quickly becoming overwhelmed with pleasure and my legs start to give out.

He finally lets go of my hair and I let my head fall as he grabs my hips with both hands, thrusting even harder. I grip the counter as hard as possible to keep from smashing my face into the mirror.

Then he leans in close, growling into my ear, "Who's a good girl?"

I can't... Fucking... Think...

"I am... Daddy..." Fuck, what is this man doing to me?...

I'm completely breathless now as he grips my hips tighter, the pressure causing my legs to finally give out, but I'm somehow still mounted by his iron grip as he pulls me up, keeping my feet elevated off the cold tile.

After a few more thrust the pleasure quickly builds back up. Fuck I think I might-

"Oh God... fuck... I'm cummingg..." I cry out before my body siezes and is overwhelmed with the most intense orgasm of my life. I can't breathe. Can't think. My world shatters as my pussy squeezes on him, throbbing, begging for more as I feel his movements becoming erratic and he cums inside me. That alone has me dripping wet again, ready for more. I'll never get enough.

He lets out a feral growl as his grip tightens and he keeps thrusting into me, spilling every last drop of his seed into me.

Then he holds me there for a moment, his cock inside my still throbbing pussy until he goes soft and I practically push him out. His cum slowly dripping out of me onto the tiled floor. He finally lets go of my hips and I collapse on the floor, desperately catching my breath as I cling to the sink for any kind of support. I finally turn to look at his smirking face, then with a quick wink and zip of his pants, he walks out of the bathroom. Leaving me in utter bliss and devastation.