Part 3 of Neighbor's Obsession. This story has themes of non-consent, reluctance, obsession, and Stockholm syndrome. I originally didn't intend for it to be this long, but I've always been terrible about editing myself... Let me know what you think!
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Ava woke up groggy and alone in her bed, lying naked on her stomach with one leg hiked to the side. She didn't usually sleep naked, but sometimes when she went out drinking she'd flirt a little too much with a handsome stranger, and when she got home she'd stumble out of her clothes and onto the bed, pull out trusty ol' Dildo Baggins from the nightstand, and wake up hungover but satisfied the next day.
She raised herself to her elbows with a groaning sigh. Her head sure felt like she had been drinking, and judging by the slight ache down under, she suspected that she had indeed had another fun night to herself. She didn't remember going out, but—
Her body tensed as an unexpected gush of fluid spilled from deep within her walls onto the bed, warm and thick as it oozed out. The memory of the night suddenly crashed over her—Caden breaking into her house, cuffing her to the bed and forcing his seed inside of her, watching her climax in the vibrating panties, force feeding her those disgusting undercooked eggs, and then...
And then it was a little hazy. She was pretty sure he had washed her and carried her to bed, but then there was the strange dream she had had of him taking her from behind and her liking it—actually
liking
it! What a nightmare.
The house was so still and silent now. She sat up and pulled the blanket away. Her arms and legs were free, and everything in the room seemed to be in perfect order. She wondered for a moment if all of it had been a dream, but the memories were too vivid, even in her groggy state, and the evidence was leaking between her folds.
She cautiously slid off the bed, pushing her knees together as his essence trickled down her thighs. She grabbed some clothes from her dresser and some sneakers. Her panties and underwear were missing—not good. She tiptoed into the bathroom, her eyes and ears alert for any sign of Caden. She closed the door quietly and locked it. Her hands shook and she took a deep breath. She had to think of what to do, but not knowing where Caden was or what he was doing made her afraid to do anything at all.
After a moment's hesitation she decided that first things first: she had to clean herself. She grabbed a wad of toilet paper and frantically wiped her dripping opening, and when she had gotten all she could, she sat on the toilet and pushed. That could help, right? If she squeezed hard enough, her body could empty the rest out of her, right?
She thought of what he had told her, what his intentions were.
I know you'll make a great mother...
He wanted to "claim" her as his, as if impregnating her meant she had to chain herself to him for the rest of her life.
His gaze had been such a terrifying mix of dominance and admiration, as if her body was something to be both conquered and glorified, stolen and worshiped, devoured and savored. She had a feeling he'd go pretty far to get what he wanted, but there was no goddamn way in hell she'd let it happen. He couldn't just lock her up in her house forever; someone would come looking for her eventually. And when they found her, she would feel no sympathy for him—in fact, she would relish the sight of
him
being the one in handcuffs.
Another gush of fluid slipped out of her, bringing her sharply from her thoughts. Her walls and clit were sensitive, and in a purely physical sense, the feeling of it passing through her was almost arousing... almost. Her body might tell her that being filled with his seed was a good thing, but everything else in her was disgusted and angry. She counted the days since her last period. Shit, almost two weeks ago. Was she ovulating? How were women even supposed to know that?
She finished up and took stock of her naked body in the mirror. No bruises, no marks, no real aches—not even on her wrists where she had pulled so hard against those damn cuffs. No evidence that she had struggled at all. She touched her bottom lip where he had bitten her, but even that was only slightly tender. He had been so gentle, even in his roughest moments. The pressure of his hand around her neck, his teeth just barely grazing her nipple, his fingers curling so delicately inside of her...
Oh!
She suddenly parted her legs and bent forward over the sink as another warm gush of him rolled out of her, touching every wall on its slow way through her lips and down her thigh. Christ, all of this had been inside her all night, dutifully working its way into the deepest part of her, planting her fertile ground... She pushed the thought away—she would have to worry about that later.
She remembered leaving her phone on the counter, but now it was gone; Caden had undoubtedly taken it.
Fuck.
She needed to get to her car and drive into town, but what if he was outside waiting for her? What would he do if he caught her? What if he had messed with her car so that she couldn't leave? What if he—
No.
She let out a sharp exhale and steeled herself. She couldn't let herself spiral in fear. There were tons of horrible what-ifs to prevent her from doing anything, but the worst by far was what if she missed her chance to escape because she just stood there and did nothing?
She quickly changed into her clothes and crept silently down the hall towards the front of the house. He wasn't in the kitchen as far as she could tell, and she didn't see him when she peeked around the wall in the living room, either. Her keys, purse, and laptop were all gone. Her stomach churned.
Images of the night flashed through her mind—his strong arms around her waist as he lifted her, how he effortlessly forced her into the cuffs, how he held her still so easily as he kissed her, the way he carried her from the bathroom to the bed like she weighed nothing... If he caught her, she'd physically stand no chance against him.
She peered through the peephole at the front door and the two living room windows, but he was nowhere to be found. Adrenaline coursed through her body. She had no phone, no car, and no internet, but she was a decent runner. If he was out there waiting for her, she'd have to make it past him and run the half mile up her private driveway to the road, then pray someone would drive by and pick her up. Not many people drove down that road, but fuck, she'd run along it for the whole ten miles it took to get to the main highway if she had to.
She opened the door and carefully stepped out. Black clouds were rolling in on the wind, the leaves on the trees were turned over, and the birds were silent.
Wonderful.
Of course it would storm—Caden had probably taken that into account when planning this, the fucking psycho. She quietly walked down her porch toward the side of the house where the gravel driveway wrapped around and led up to the road. The only vehicle in the carport was her little white sedan. Was he done with her?
She rounded the corner and froze. Caden was standing there just a few yards away, shifting something in the bed of his old truck. He glanced up at her with surprise before she had a chance to dart back out of sight. He flashed his warm, dimpled smile. "Well hey there, gorgeous." He turned away from the truck and leaned his shoulder against it. "I didn't think you'd be awake yet." He gazed up at the sky as a roll of thunder rumbled overhead. "Looks like it's going to start soon, what do you think?"
She stared at him. He seemed so
normal
. His casual posture in wrinkled day-old clothes, messy dark hair, the cheerful tone in his voice, his kind eyes and that charming fucking smile... She could have actually been attracted to him, if he hadn't absolutely ruined it.
Her heart pounded. To get to the driveway she'd either have to run past him and hope he was slower than her, or run around the house the long way and hope he was dumb enough to follow her rather than take the short side and cut her off. Both options seemed bleak.
"Guess you're not really in the mood for that kind of small talk right now." He gave her an apologetic look and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, how are you feeling?" he asked. "I didn't hurt you last night, did I?"
She frowned. "No," she said, thrown off by his tone of genuine concern.
Why are you talking to him? Just run!
He saw the thought in her eyes and his expression darkened. "Don't do it, Ava," he said, tilting his head in warning. "There are consequences for everything." He took a slow, purposeful step towards her, and then she bolted.
She sprinted in the opposite direction, choosing to run around the long side of the house. She didn't look back, didn't see if he had followed her or if he had cut along the short side—all she did was run. Through the front yard, past the patio, across a wide patch of grass around the corner, and then she finally reached the long gravel driveway. The thrill of escape and hope rippled through her body, fueling her. She had made it! She could keep this up for miles, she knew she could! She
had
to! And when she reached the road she'd—
Suddenly all of the air in her lungs rushed out as Caden tackled her sideways into the grass. He grabbed her head and caged her in his arms so he didn't crush her as they collapsed to the ground. He grunted, taking most of the force from the fall, but a sharp pain shot up her leg where she landed as well.
"Oh, sweetheart," he panted, grinning wickedly as he looked down at her, "you
really
shouldn't have done that." He pinned her on her side in the grass, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other under her shoulder, his hand shielding her face from the ground. He rubbed his thumb across her cheek, less gently than he had last night.