Chasing Selma Pt 02

This is part two of the story of how Selma finds a mysterious man online and signs a contract that states she agrees that he can do whatever he pleases to her for 48 hours. But does she realize how far Erik is willing to take their little game?

All characters are 18+ and consenting adults.

In part one, Selma follows Eriks instructions, but ends up assaulted in an alley, drugged and kidnapped. You can read part one on my profile.

--

I slowly open my eyes and look around. My head feels heavy, and it's hard to focus. Where am I? It seems like a hunting lodge? In front of me, a fire roars in an enormous open fireplace. There's a bear-skin rug on the floor, and the walls are adorned with gaudy, taxidermied heads of deer and elk. There's even something I think might be an eagle. Aren't they endangered?

I spot an envelope with my name on it on the table in front of me. Next to it is a clock that tells me I must have been knocked out for hours because it's almost 2 AM. I glance around the room, but there doesn't seem to be anyone else here. I don't hear anything, either. But, where is the man who attacked me? Who drugged me and carried me off to his car - who kidnapped me...?

In the alley, I was terrified, convinced one of the men from the bar had followed me. But now I'm sure it must have been Erik. Was this his plan all along?

I check over my body, but I don't seem to be injured. Apart from my throbbing head, I feel fine. I touch my neck where it felt like something stung me, but there's nothing but the tiniest prick of raised skin. He must have injected me with something. We never discussed anything like this when we spoke online.

I feel stupid. I had mentioned a couple of hard limits, like permanent damage, extreme violence, and anything to do with bodily fluids. I never expected him to do anything like this, though. I guess I should have been more thorough. Being drugged and brought to a second location was not something I would have signed up for. I think...?

My body goes tense. There's always a possibility that whoever Erik is, he doesn't actually care about my limits at all and that this isn't a game. That everything he's said is a lie, and this was all a ploy to get me out into that dark alley... There is a chance that he kidnapped me and that there is no traffic light system. No "red" for stop, no one to save me.

I strain my ears to listen, but the only sound is the crackling from the fireplace. I look around again before I pick up the envelope and open it.

Inside is a handwritten note. A chill races down my spine as I read it;

"When you read this, a timer will start. You have one hour to get ready. There is a bathroom at the end of the hall if you need it. There is food in the kitchen, it should be to your liking.

After the hour is up, you will have another ten minutes to escape before I come find you. Cameras are all over the cabin, so there is no point in hiding.

Good luck.

E"

I scan the room for cameras, but none are visible. Is it true? Is he watching me right now? This guy has spent over 20,000 euros on clothes for me. He somehow has access to drugs to knock someone out, and everything in this cabin screams luxury. I'm sure he could afford some high-tech hidden cameras.

I put the letter down, grab the clock, and stand up. My legs are a little wobbly, but my head is feeling better. I make my way to the bathroom first and quickly do my business, wash my hands, glance in the mirror. My mascara is smudged, and there's a scratch on my cheek. Nothing serious.

Entering the kitchen, I see a whole buffet spread out on the counter for me. At first, the selection seems random, but when I look more closely, I realize it's all my favorite food - even a box of the cookies I always keep stocked.

Who is this guy? It's only been a couple of weeks since we started talking, and we've never met. He must have been watching me for a while. Had he been in my apartment?

A part of me is deeply disturbed by the thought. But another part of me, the part that confessed 'stalking' was one of my fantasies, is intrigued. But, fantasizing about being stalked is one thing. Finding out that a stranger from the internet has been inside my apartment is terrifying.

I grab a sandwich and a smoothie. 42 minutes left until I need to be gone. But where am I supposed to go? Looking out the windows, there's nothing but darkness, and I have no idea where I am.

What if I stay? What if I wait for him to come? What would happen? I consider it for a minute, but I'm only here because I wanted this. I wanted to feel that fear, truly, to be hunted. To be lost in the woods, running for my life.

I wonder if I'm allowed to take anything from the cabin. There must be a warm coat here somewhere. Or a flashlight? But then again, having a flashlight would only make finding me that much easier...

I quickly finish my food and gulp down the smoothie. Glancing at the clock, I note that there are 37 minutes left. I'm not sure if I'm allowed to leave or if I'm supposed to wait until the hour is up, but I decide I can't let the chance of a head start get away from me, so I make my way toward where I assume the front door will be.

I locate the door and on the mat in front of it, I notice a pair of sneakers. There's a note on them and I pick it up.

"I enjoyed watching you run in heels, but I think these might be more comfortable for you. - E"

Slipping into the soft sneakers after walking around in heels is such a relief. I wiggle my toes. I consider rummaging through the closets to look for a jacket but decide not to. If he wanted me to have a jacket, he would have given me one. I take a deep breath before opening the door.

-

I barely make it three steps before being blinded by what feels like a hundred floodlights. My hands fly up to cover my ears when an impossibly loud siren starts sounding. Instinct takes over, launching me forward, running wildly to escape the noise and the lights. I have no idea where I'm going, but I know I need to get away.

The lights don't reach further than the end of the driveway, and I slow down once I'm in the dark. - Well, it's not completely dark. But at least I'm not lit up like a billboard anymore.

I'm not sure if I should be thankful for the light summer nights or if I should be cursing them, but at least now that my eyes have adjusted from being blinded, I can make out where I'm going. I'm on a gravel road, everywhere I turn, there's nothing but dense forest. Staying on the road would mean moving faster, but it would also mean being easier to find.

Before I get a chance to decide, I hear a truck start up somewhere behind me, and it's obvious I need to get off the road. But should I go left? Or right? Neither choice looks worse or better. I don't have time to think about it. I go left.

I don't make it more than a couple of meters before I feel my dress catch on something. I can hear the truck getting closer, and I see its headlights approaching, so I grab the fabric and yank as hard as I can. The dress rips, but I don't care. I'm free, and I sprint to get as far from the road as possible. I hear the truck's engine shut off, and I stop and duck behind a large rock.

The truck door slams, and someone gets out. I'm terrified they'll see me, but I can't stop myself from peeking. The man standing next to the truck is tall, he's wearing all black. His outfit reminds me of a special op guy from an action movie. Is this the guy from the alley? Is this Erik? Why hadn't I insisted on seeing a photo of him before agreeing to this? The more I think about it, the more insane this whole thing is. The man could be anyone. Erik could be anyone. He could be a psychopath who lures women out here to kill them...

I'm tempted to shout "red" to see what he'll do. To end this, so I can go back inside and get warm and not be afraid anymore. But if this isn't a game, then I'd be giving away my location to a psycho killer. I choose to stay quiet, observing. He brings out a flashlight and starts scanning the edges of the road. He walks towards where I left the road earlier. I see him bend down to pick something up. It looks like a piece of my dress. He starts scanning the forest with his flashlight, and I duck behind the rock.

Do I run now? He knows I've headed this way, and by the sound of it, he's moving towards me. Is there a chance he won't find me? If I run now, he'll hear me, and he'll chase me. How fast is he? Faster than me?

I feel my heart beating. I can't stay here. I can't risk it. I get up and bolt. I don't look back, but I'm sure he's seen me. I'm crashing through the undergrowth. I don't care that my legs are torn to shreds by the brambles, I just need to get away. I'm running uphill now, almost climbing towards a rocky hilltop. I get to the peak of it, and I continue downhill on the other side.

When I bolted from my hiding place, he was still several meters away. Is he gaining on me? I slow down to look behind me for a second, but I don't see him anywhere. I pay for that brief distraction when my foot hits a rock and I'm thrown forward. There's nothing to grab onto to stop me from falling. I crash. Tumbling forward, I roll down the hill. Rocks scrape my skin, and I finally land near the creek. Everything hurts.

My dress has been torn to shreds. I don't have time to look over my injuries. My eyes desperately scan the area, looking for him, looking for anywhere to hide. He still hasn't made it to the top of the hill. I can barely walk. I need to find somewhere to hide. But where?

I spot a crevice in between some rocks. I dart over there. There's room to hide if I can only squeeze myself inside. I nudge one of the rocks, and it shifts just enough for me to enter. I drag myself as far back from the entrance as I can, and there's just enough space to sit. I make myself as small as possible and stay quiet as I listen.

I hear his boots come crashing down the hillside. He stops when he reaches the bottom, and I hold my breath. I see flashes of light as he searches the area with his torch. There's no way he can spot me, but I still try to make myself even smaller.

I hear him walking up and down the embankment until the sound of his boots suddenly stops. I bet he's listening, trying to see if he can hear me. I breathe as quietly as possible, hoping the trickling of the creek's water is enough to cover any noise I might make. My hiding place is painfully cramped, and I'm desperate to stretch my legs out, but I don't dare move. At some point, he has to leave, right? He'll think I somehow made it across the stream, and he'll search for me on the other side... right?

I almost hit my head on the rock above me when he suddenly lets out several loud, sharp whistles - like he's calling a dog. A dog? I freeze. If he brought dogs I'm fucked. Completely fucked. He lets out another series of whistles, and in no time, I hear the sound of paws clambering down the hillside.

There is nowhere for me to go. There is no way out but forward, and out there is an unknown number of dogs and him. Even if he hadn't had the piece of my dress for the dogs to sniff, he was the one who'd picked out the perfume I was wearing. He probably planned for this in case I got away from him.

In mere seconds, the dogs find me. I scream when one sticks its head inside the crevice and bites down on my shoe. When it starts pulling on my leg, I panic. Visions of being torn to shreds by a pack of rabid dogs surge through my head.

I scream, "RED!" Immediately, I hear a sharp whistle, and the dogs back off.

I scramble towards the back of my hiding place, hyperventilating and crying. We never discussed what would happen if I said "red", but the dogs have backed off, and no one is trying to drag me out of here. Does that mean Erik is honoring our agreement, that he's not going to let me be torn to pieces by his hounds?

I hear the sound of his boots approaching me.

"Selma?" He sounds concerned. "Do you want to stop?"

A simple question. But is there a simple answer? Had I wanted it to stop? Yes. I was terrified - it didn't feel like a game or a fantasy. It felt real. But wasn't "real" what I wanted? Wasn't that why I had sought out someone like Erik? Why I'd put on the dress, gone to the club?

"I, - I don't want to stop," I tell him. "But the dogs... I can't."

I hear a different tune of whistle, and the paws quickly retreat.

"I understand. They've backed off," he says calmly. "What color are you?"

For a second, I'm confused, but of course, he's referring to the traffic lights.

"Green," I say.

I hear him move closer, watch as he effortlessly pushes one of the large boulders aside before crouching down to peer at me.

"Then you better get the fuck out here now, before I call the dogs back to drag you out," he says, moving away so I can crawl out.

My whole body is aching. I have no idea how I even managed to squeeze in here. If he hadn't removed the boulder, I'm not sure I would have made it out. I catch a glimpse of the dogs as I crawl out. Three enormous Rottweilers. I've never been frightened of dogs, but these scare me to death.

I straighten up and meet his eyes. He could have been anyone. He could have looked like anyone. He never sent me a picture, only a brief description. "Tall, athletic, blue eyes". All of it is true, but he failed to mention that he was beautiful.

Perhaps you weren't supposed to describe men as "beautiful", but he truly was. Blonde, like me, high cheekbones, a strong jaw, and pale blue eyes. There's no doubt this is the same masked man from the alley. I'm not sure I'm relieved or terrified. But this is Erik.

I'm staring and temporarily forget why we're here. His voice pulls me back to reality.

"I'll count to five," he says.

I'm exhausted, bruised all over, a thousand tiny bleeding cuts from fleeing through the brambles, aching from being cramped up in the crevice.

"Please, I just need a min-..." he cuts me off by raising his hand, fingers splayed.

"One", he says, lowering a finger.

I stall for a second, but turn and bolt just as he gets to "two".I make a split decision and sprint for the creek. Maybe wading through the water will throw the dogs off my scent if he calls them back.

The water's cold, and I hear him laugh when it reaches my waist, and I let out a gasp. It's obvious I've made a mistake, the water is much deeper than I thought, and I'm struggling to stay standing. I almost lose my footing several times, terrified I'm going to be swept away. But somehow, I make it to the other side. On my hands and knees, I scramble up the rocky embankment.

I hear splashing behind me, and I'm terrified he's sent the dogs after me. I crawl to the top and dig my hands into the soft grass to get up. I make it onto my knees before something crashes into me from behind, knocking me down. I'm flipped over onto my back, and I stare straight up at Erik. His cold eyes pierce me.

"I've decided I'm bored with watching you run away," he says. He grabs my wrists and drags me across the grass. I look back in horror when I see the dogs trail us.

"Where are you taking me?" I whimper.

"Here," he says and abruptly lets go of my hands. I shift to get up, but he puts his boot on my chest, pushing me back down. "Lay still, or I call the dogs."

I don't move a muscle. From his belt, he removes a coil of rope. He loops it around my wrists, tying an intricate knot before throwing the tail end of the rope over a branch above us. Before I have time to protest, he pulls the rope, lifting me until my toes can barely touch the ground. He walks over to the tree and ties off the end, leaving me hanging there.

The pain in my wrists is excruciating. I try to find footing to take the pressure off, but my toes only brush the grass. "Erik, please. It hurts"

He just stands there, looking at me.

"Isn't this what you wanted? To be chased? Hunted down like the slut you are?"

He walks closer to me, gives my body a little push so I'm swinging back and forth. The pressure on my wrists even more intense. My arms are aching.

"You want me to hurt you, don't you, Selma?"

I don't say anything, I can't. I can only focus on the pain.

Erik slaps me, hard, and the sting brings tears to my eyes.

He grabs my jaw, forcing me to look at him.

"You like it when I hurt you, don't you?"

He squeezes even harder.

"Y- yes." I whimper.

"Good girl," Erik says and kisses me. His mouth feels rough. Greedy. He forces his tongue into my mouth. He tastes good.

He gives me another push, and I cry out. I sway back and forth. He watches me suffer with hunger in his eyes.

He bends down to pick something up, I glimpse a thin branch in his hand before he spins me around so I'm facing away from him.

"This is going to hurt," he says. And I don't have time to wonder what he means because he wastes no time and whips me across the back of my thighs. I let out a scream. A scream so loud a flock of birds flee from a nearby tree. I want to flee too, to escape this pain, but I stay, gritting my teeth.

He gives me another lash, two more. Three more. Four. A scream gets caught in my throat, turning into a sob that shakes through my body.

"Puh- please. N- no more..."

He spins me back around. His eyes on fire. He kisses me, deep, intense. Like he's trying to kiss away my pain.

He lifts one of my legs and rests it on his hip. His fingers dig into my thigh. The other hand trails down my body. Caressing me. His hand wanders down my stomach, slides over my thigh, in between my legs.

Without hesitation, he pushes his fingers inside me, and I let out a gasp. He kisses my neck, bites my earlobe. I feel his hot breath in my ear.

"Terrified. Suffering. Freezing. Helpless."

Every word he says is punctuated by his fingers fucking me. He leans closer and whispers, "And still your cunt is dripping, bitch."

I'm filled with shame, but there's no denying how he makes me feel. I've never been in this much pain before... or ever been this aroused.

"Tell me what you want," he growls. Kissing and biting my neck, his fingers still moving in and out of my soaked pussy.

I close my eyes. Try to control my breath. What do I want? I want the pain to end. I want to be untied. I want to go home. I... I want...

I take a deep breath. It doesn't matter what I want. The only thing that matters is what I need.

I use the last of my strength and wrap both my legs around his waist.

"I want you to rape me."

I push myself towards him and kiss him like he kissed me. Rough, hard. I bite into his lower lip and cherish the moan that escapes his lips.

"I want you to fuck me until I don't remember my name."

He grabs my neck, squeezing, choking me. His cold, blue eyes staring into my soul.

I stare back, egging him on. I won't back down. I'm not afraid.

In seconds, he's undone his belt, his pants drop.

He's rock hard. Precum dripping off his cock. I'm not the only one driven mad by desire.

I push myself towards him and he rewards me by forcing himself inside me. I let out a whimper. He's so big, I can barely take it.

"Is this what you want, slut?"

His hand tightens around my neck, I can barely breathe.

"Yes," I say. It comes out as a hoarse whisper.

He lifts one of my legs, throwing it up on his shoulder. The pressure on my wrists is insane, I feel like my shoulders might rip out of their sockets. I can't breathe.

He places a thumb on my clit and starts rubbing. In seconds, my legs are shaking, my body convulsing. I don't care about the pain anymore. My eyes roll to the back of my head, my mouth hangs open. If I had the air, I'd be screaming. Every critter in this forest would be fleeing from my scream. But he's cut off my air.

His cock is hammering into me. He's moaning, grunting. Tightening his grip on my hips, on my neck. This orgasm has been building ever since he started chasing me. Since he caught me. Tied me up. Hurt me. It builds to a crescendo. Rushing over me, maddening, like fireworks. We come together, my legs desperately cling to him as he pumps me full of his hot cum.