My new neighbour gave me the creeps the first moment I saw him on the landing outside his flat ( I was on one floor above him). He was furtive and sleazy looking and I sensed that when I had nodded and said hello he leered after me as I ascended the stone stairs. There was just something about him that set all my internal warnings on red alert. Being a policewoman you get a sense for these things and I instinctively thought there was something 'off' about him.
The next time I saw him I was in full police uniform and rushing down the stairs as I was late for my shift. His reaction to the fact I was on the force was even more telling. He displayed classic fear and loathing as he shrunk back against the wall to let me pass, as if just coming into contact with me would somehow harm him. I could again sense him staring after me as I descended and when I glanced back was treated to a glare of contempt that he quickly hid by turning away and scurrying up the stairs.
It was simple for me to check up on him. His name was Norman Miller and he had a rap sheet the length of my arm. Nearly all were for sexual assault or some sort of variation. Starting with indecent exposure and working his way up through assault and his last crime that saw him take five years inside was for a particularly horrible sounding rape of a teenager. So I knew who and what he was but the more I saw of him the more he seemed to stick in my mind and rather than complete revulsion I couldn't quite decide how I felt about him. I mean he was ugly, in his late forties, overweight, he smelled of body odour, was unkempt and unhygienic and knowing all the things he had done (that he had been caught for!) should have made me despise this sex offender -- but it didn't, not completely anyway. I'll admit it here, when I caught him leering or ogling at me when he thought I didn't know about it, it gave me a thrill, turned me on and I couldn't help but think dark and disturbing thoughts -- God I hated myself for them!
*
Over the next couple of months I began to get seriously distracted by my dark musings regarding my neighbour. Things came to a head for me when I had to sit in on an interview with a female plain clothes officer of an alleged rape victim. As this lithe young college girl detailed how she had been drunk and taken advantage of by her older landlord I could not stop myself imagining myself as the young girl and Norman as my attacker. As the tearful girl described how her knickers were torn off and she was taken against her will I swear my eyes were almost closed and I would have killed for the ability to reach down and finger myself at the table. Somehow I prevented this but as I hurried home after my shift ended I barely waited for my door to be shut before I had my own panties off and lay on my bed and frigged myself to the mother of all orgasms.
Afterwards I was filled with guilt and remorse at what I had done. I felt so low, disgusted with myself, I had sunk to a nadir and knew it. I couldn't hide the fact from myself that as I had masturbated furiously I had been imagining myself as the victim and my downstairs neighbour as my attacker.
I was single, 27, blonde and due to my job in very good physical shape. I jogged and worked out, I was fit and could handle myself very well. But I was aware that some of my more 'extreme' sexual fantasies had possessed elements of giving up or losing control and being helpless. I had been in plenty of relationships but nothing steady or regular and for the past six months or so it had been my range of vibrators that had been servicing me. I had so much pent up tension and emotion inside me and I was about to do something I would regret for a long, long time...
*
I stood on my landing looking down the three floors of stairs below as the front door banged shut and I wondered if this time it would be Norman. Mine was the top flat in the building with Norman's the one directly under it. I peered down the narrow gap and watched a hand slowly ascend the shiny black bannister. I gave an involuntary shudder as the hand passed the first floor landing and kept coming up. This was surely him.
I knew for sure when the hand broke off and I heard him shuffle across the landing and open his door. Right then I could imagine his surprise as he stared down at a brown envelope with his name printed in large black letters that I had pushed through his letterbox only minutes earlier. I tried to calm myself and moved back inside my own door, careful not to close it and moved as if in a trance into my bedroom, all the while trying to imagine the scene in Norman's flat. He would pick up and peer curiously at the envelope, it was not stamped so must have been handwritten. I gave a shiver as I imagined him read the words I had written twice the night before ( the first time I had torn my letter up due to a change of mind only to then change my mind back again).
"Norman. This is Chloe your upstairs neighbour writing this. You know me, I'm the blonde policewoman you like to leer and ogle at when you think I'm not looking. I've seen your record. I know who you are and I know what you are and what you have done. I know how you like to treat women. Well today is your lucky day. If you come upstairs in the next hour you will find my front door slightly ajar. If you come up and enter the key is in the door so once in you can close, lock and dead bolt the door. I will by lying face down on my bed in the first room on the right hand side. My arms will be handcuffed behind my back (the key is on my bedside table so I can escape if you do not take me up on my offer) and there will be a ball gag in my mouth and tied around my head.
If you do come then I am completely at your mercy to do with as you wish. You may think this is a trap. It is not. This letter plus the CD (which is a word for word recording of this letter voiced and identified clearly as myself speaking) will give you confidence of that. You will have a one hour window of opportunity from the moment you enter your flat today to act on this, after that I will assume you are not interested and will never repeat or mention this offer again.
Why am I doing this? I could argue that if you take out your urges with me then some other poor unfortunate woman will not be subject to them. Perhaps that is the case. But mainly it is because I want to be the victim, I want to live that scenario of helplessness at the hands of a cruel, sadistic pervert. Do what you will. Chloe Murphy, Flat 4."
I lay on my bed and wondered just what I had done. Could I live with what might just happen? I was off work for four whole days, no one was expecting to see or hear from me in that time. My situation was even more perilous than I had let on in the note. I was now stark naked and lying on my bed, the gag was fitted tightly in my mouth and stretched my lips wide. I strained to lift my head up and looked at the glistening small keys to my cuffs and wondered again if I would be able to release myself from them if Norman did not show. That was surely ten minutes passed by then, maybe he wasn't coming? Maybe he didn't read the note? Maybe..
I heard the unmistakable creak of my front door being pushed open then being slammed shut. Then seconds later I heard the key turn in the lock then the loud clang of the dead bolt being slammed home. I stopped breathing and held my breath. I looked again at the key but knew that it was already too late, I had set the trap for myself and now whether I changed my mind or not I was stuck in it and would have to face the consequences. I felt a warm trickle of juice leak from my hot pussy.