The Staler Who Stayed

A cyber security professional loses his job and finds himself living in his car, lonely, isolated and haunted by fantasies of claiming a woman by force.

At the end of his rope, he comes up with a desperate and diabolical plan: to take his long time stalking habit to the next level with a well-chosen home invasion and just settle in till economic times improve, giving him the opportunity to explore his desire for full control. All for the sweet girl's own good, of course.

In the opening chapter, it is all in his imagination, but in future installments those desires will demand to be made real.

Story Arc Themes:

~ dominance & submission, force & control, non-consent & reluctance ~

~fear & desire~

~ stalking, home invasion & hostage-taking ~

~ psychological dominance, mind control & behaviour modification ~

~ primal, predator-prey & pet-play ~

TRIGGER WARNING:

Caution: this story contains dark sexual themes that not everyone will like, including non-consent, force, kidnap, mind control and behaviour modification.

If you are not already drawn to these fantasies, I recommend turning back and choosing a different story. I would not wish to warp your mind.

For those who do crave these extreme themes, here you will find:

Control, but not malice;

Force, but not extreme violence;

Violation, but not destruction;

And most importantly to me, affection and respect, rather than degradation and rejection.

My stories are intended to heal, not to harm.

For those whose minds, for whatever reasons, stray into dangerous terrain.

***

A dark, miserable storm raged outside. Not the kind of night you wanted to be sleeping in your car, but I didn't have a choice these days. Rain hammered on the roof of my Jeep Rubicon and the wind whistled outside. I was sprawled in the back seat under a blanket, clutching a bottle of substandard whiskey like it was my teddy bear, and clearly I was determined to make myself as miserable as possible because I was cruising a local dating site, just to remind myself that no woman would agree to a date with me now.

It had been a bumpy fall from grace. Had to quit my job over that damn vaxx. Had I done it quietly, it wouldn't have been such a big deal. I work in cyber-security; I could've found work remotely. If I'd kept my trap shut about my opinions. But no, I had to burn every bridge, didn't I? My resume was a torched pile of ash.

More importantly, I felt burned. Why should I devote my life to someone else's business if they were suddenly going to invade my body any time they chose? That's the definition of a bad deal, and I wanted out of the whole goddamn rat race no matter what it cost me. I wanted my life back.

So I came up with a great plan to take back my freedom. I would sell my condo and hit the road like I did when I quit high school, return to my favourite camping spots for the first time in years, say "Fuck you" to the world with some epic solo fishing trips and generally reclaim my youth, my autonomy, my masculinity and everything else the years had stripped from me.

Which is why I was now parked up in a parking lot at the edge of some deadsville town, torturing myself with what I couldn't have and feeling like a loser.

I threw down the phone in disgust, both at myself and at the state of the world. That shit never made me happy anyway. I had always been successful - with women, in my career. I could get what I wanted, and enjoy it. But it was hollow success. Easy pickings, but not a juicy enough fruit to satisfy me.

I sighed and tried to ignore my depressing situation.

I needed to get laid. That was the problem. I couldn't think straight because it had simply been too long since I had seen any action. Between the lockdowns and the vaxx issue, my reliable sources of sex had evaporated like rain in the desert and I was a thirsty man.

My time alone had had a noticeable effect on my desires. Things were getting... more extreme. I'd never thought much about my sexuality. I liked to fuck hard, I liked to be in charge. It's pretty simple.

I liked to tease, too, and put a girl off balance, play with her mind a bit, but I'd never taken it far, just a moment here and there of backing up my physical dominance with a touch of mental... it adds a charge. But in my deprivation, the urge for control was getting both stronger and more complex. I didn't just want to pin her down and fuck her for a few hours. I wanted to pin her down in her mind and fuck her senseless for months, maybe years. And, increasingly, there was an edge, a line I never thought I'd cross, even in fantasy.

Alone in my Jeep, night after night, jerking myself off like a reject, I found my thoughts straying into scenarios where I didn't give her a choice. Just took control, like I'd never admitted I wanted to. Just chose a girl from a distance; studied her, hunted her, captured her. Restrained her and teased her till she couldn't help needing what I'd never given her a chance to want but just forced on her. Forcing not just sex, but a relationship. The kind of relationship I wanted, one where I was fully in control. I wanted to force my way inside her mind, not just penetrate her body, till she surrendered and submitted herself to me.

Scrolling the personals had made me feel depressed, but now my mind was on my recurrent dirty fantasy, my cock was hard as a rock, and it wasn't for any of the pretty girls I'd just scrolled past. I pulled my sweatpants down and grasped my shaft, closed my eyes and abandoned my depressing reality for a better scene.

I can see her through her window. She doesn't close her curtains; she lives out in the middle of nowhere, where no one can hear her scream, and it never occurs to her that someone might be watching. Who is she? I don't know, I don't care, I just know that she's mine and I'm going to claim her.

Getting as comfy as I could, I spat into my palm and fondled myself, imagining the moment of truth, that fateful moment when I changed her life forever and took control. In the dark, pressing her against the wall, my chest relentless against her back. My hand over her mouth so she couldn't speak as my words worked their magic, eroding her defenses and leaving her vulnerable to my touch.

I loved imagining that moment: grabbing her swiftly in the dark, shoving her up against the wall in a way that told her not to fuck with me, then, once I had her pinned, switching to seduction, teasing her with my voice and the lightest of touches until her resistance melted and she dissolved into a wet, fuckable ragdoll. My boner raged in my hand, angry at being denied soft, yielding female flesh for yet another night. It wasn't right. I needed it, and I was going to take it. My breath was coming hard now. I replayed the moment again: grab her, stifle her scream, throw her up against the wall.

Jerking myself, I was on the edge. She was frozen in terror in my grip, begging me with muffled cries to stop. Intoxicating me with her fear and goading me on with her pointless struggling.

No time for the slow tease now. I didn't care, I was in fantasyland. Sure, I'd done the foreplay, I'd seduced her into it, whatever. She was putty in my hands. Now the little beauty was soaking wet for me, gushing around my cock head, mewling deliriously against my firm palm.

Pressing her head against the wall, "Stay still", forcing myself between her slippery thighs, my cock head at her pussy lips - my cock jerks and I spray all over the seats.

Deep breath. I am not a loser. I didn't just jerk off to a rape fantasy in a parking lot. No one ever has to know.

***

Another night, parked up at a rest stop, the darkest spot I could find. Trucks thunder past not too far from my head as I try to get comfortable for the night. I am fiercely debating whether to increase my chances of getting some sleep by indulging in my sick fantasy or whether I should cut these thoughts off now before they get out of hand. You can't just force a girl to have sex with you, I remind the more primitive parts of my brain. That's not cool.

"What if she wants it?" that primal hunter in me responds, and my dick twitches. Lots of girls have rape fantasies, right? My mouth goes dry. My hand slips inside my pants. Of course I'm thinking twisted thoughts, I tell myself. Everyone's mind goes to dirty places at truck stops. Tomorrow I'll be out by the lake and I'll think healthy, pure thoughts. One last night. Just pretend she's one of those girls who wants to have it done to her, and it's ok.

My inner predator grinned. Yeah, one of those girls who wants it, but would never have the guts to ask. One who's always had submissive fantasies but never had even a taste of the real thing. I'd give her more than a taste, much more. And the pooling wetness between her legs would betray her true desires to me, no matter how much she protested.

My dick ached to dip itself in that wetness, but the blaring of a truck horn ripped through the night, jolting me out of my fantasy. I sighed in frustration. Get a grip, I told myself. You don't need to get laid, you need a home. Admit it. You hate living on the road.

It was true. I pulled my hand out of my pants, brought back down out of my dirty fantasy and into my grimy reality. I'd sold myself on the idea of freedom, but I didn't feel free. I felt homeless.

I should be hunting a house, not a girl.

It was like a light had switched on in my head. Of course. It was the solution to all my problems, nicely tied up with a pretty little bow. A girl. With a house. A needy, lonely, submissive girl. Just sitting there, defenseless, miles from anyone down a deserted country road. She couldn't stop me from watching her through the windows. She couldn't stop me from walking in there and taking her hard up against the wall. She couldn't stop me from taking up residence and turning her into my fuckdoll.

It was a sinister and perfect logic that my predatory mind presented to me, one I could not ignore. I didn't need sex once; I needed sex every day. I needed to find one of these girls and force her to accept this logic too.

So many women living alone, desperate to be fucked senseless by a stud like me. How many, right now, all alone in a comfy double bed, each touching herself between her legs at the thought of waking up to find a stranger's weight crushing her, his hard cock forcing its way in, claiming her before she could even understand what was happening. So many women who'd be better off with a man like me, who would be grateful to have me move right on in and take control of her life.

Well, maybe not grateful right away - my cock stiffened - she'd fight my control at first, of course, she'd protest that she wanted her independence, but between the force of my will and the waves of pleasure I would subject her to, she would soon come to see that she was happier with me. She would accept me as the dominant force in her life, a force of nature that she was powerless to resist, and in time she would see that she'd never wanted to resist and she would surrender herself to me completely as no woman ever had. Because I had the guts to force the issue and assert my right to her unclaimed body. I'd show her that I understood her needs far better than she herself did, and then she would be mine.

Now I was rock hard, and the traffic noise was a million miles away, because I wasn't in my Jeep any more: I was in her house, in her bed, in her head. And there was nothing she could do to make me leave.

I had her up against the wall again, struggling futilely against the bulk of my muscles, but this time it was so much better, because I wasn't just taking her body. I was taking everything, and she didn't even know it yet.

She tried to dissaude me with her muffled cries, but they only turned me on more. I had already decided to have her, and there was nothing she could do to change my mind. Her plush lips tickled my hand, sending electric jolts of pleasure right down my spine to my balls, making my cock twitch between her soft thighs.

I grasped her more firmly, lining my cock up as I prepared to make her mine. Holding her hard against the wall with my body, her tiny feet kicking helplessly, inches from the floor, her magnificent ass hugging my boner as I slid in between her slick folds.

"Sshhh," I whispered into her delicate, shell-like ear. "I'm not going to hurt you, baby."

I would comfort her, I told myself as I gripped my shaft and jerked harder. I'm a good guy, I wouldn't want to scare her. But in my fantasy, I could smell how afraid she was, and I loved it. I ran my lips over the conch of her ear and down her neck, gently nibbling and sniffing her, feeling her freak out in fear at the sudden violation I had forced on her, even as her little slit wept for me.

My cock was suddenly harder in my hand than it had been since I was a teenager. I replayed the little scene over and over in my mind, whispering comforting words to the whimpering girl as I locked her into position to take my rod, getting off on her terror in the moments before I took her against her will.

Before I raped her. Straining against my hand, tossing myself harder.

Her desperate little whimpers, need and fear and desire all tangled together wetly between her thighs.

Before I raped her. Sweat broke out on my brow. Neck muscles straining as I approached peak.

Her cream soaking my cock, leaving no doubt what her body wanted, even if the rest of her didn't.

Before I raped her... for the first time.

I exploded so hard it hit the ceiling of my jeep, and the force of my orgasm blasted up from my groin through my chest. I collapsed back against the seat in shock. Never in my life had I cum so hard and so completely. My body felt... cleansed. Empty somehow, but not in a bad way. Except for the disturbing and compelling implications of the best jerk-off session of my life, which kept my mind entranced as the rain on the roof lulled me into a deep and satisfying sleep.

***

The next afternoon, I was on the road, on my way to one of my favourite remote camping spots from my teenage years. The scenery was spectacular, but my mind was on other things. I won't say that my thoughts had drifted back to the fantasy, more like they resolutely refused to leave the vivid picture I'd conjured up last night. My stiff cock, aching for attention, had woken me early, and once again I'd pleasured myself like never before to thoughts of my imaginary vixen squirming against me in the moments before I took her by force.

All morning, as I drove round the city to supply myself for my camping adventure, my thoughts returned unbidden to my dirty fantasy. Now, my cock was semi-hard in my jeans as I imagined all the reassuring things I would say to her to put her at ease before I violated her and made her mine.

I wouldn't want to frighten her. I would say them softly into her ear, whispering deep into her soul, the softness of my tone a stark contrast with the unforgiving grip I used to hold her still for my pleasure. Things like, "It's ok baby, just be a good girl for daddy and you won't get hurt." That's reassuring, right? She'd want to know I wasn't a psycho killer so she could relax and get into the mindbending pleasure I was determined to plough into her. I smirked to myself, imagining her going rigid with fear as I said it to her. There was something so hot about comforting the terrified girl with the assurance that she'd be just fine... as long as she obeyed me completely and caved in to my every desire.

Unable to deal with the discomfort in my pants, I turned off onto a disused logging road and parked up once I was hidden from the highway.

Forcing her to obey my every desire. I was rigid and my mind was on fire. Eroding her defences, getting inside her mind, training her to please me. My fantasy girl was whimpering there against the wall, crushed by my hard muscle, as I used my words to break down her will to resist me. The poor little girl had no idea how far out of her comfort zone I was going to take her.

As I reclined in my seat and unzipped, I decided that, once I had my bare cock poised at the brink, happily settled between her slick labia, I would take my time. I would want her to understand what was happening to her. I wouldn't want her to think it was just a one-time thing, a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am kind of a violation. No, this was the start of a relationship, and you never get a second chance to make a first impression. Immobilized, trapped between me and the wall, silenced by the strong grip of my hand over her mouth, her creamy pussy laid bare to my very obvious intentions: this was the perfect time for relationship-building, I thought, and my cock was in full agreement. What better time to teach her what to expect from our relationship?

The idea of having a sexual relationship on my own, wild terms, not under the constraints of civilized politeness, had unlocked something inside me. I stretched out in my seat, my body more relaxed and open than it had been in months, and opened the window to hear the breeze in the leaves as I pleasured myself, unburdened from the weight of guilt that had been dragging me down.

Somehow, something had shifted last night. This was no longer a forbidden fantasy that tormented me with what I should not want; it was the logical solution to the predicament I found myself in, and the hunter in me had his sights locked on to the target. With the right girl, he told me, it would be a good thing, not a bad thing, and, logically, I found no reason to disagree. I felt freed from the weight of shame I'd been carrying for too long.

In my mind, I could vividly imagine this right girl, and the intoxicating way she would react when I grabbed her. Closing my eyes and allowing the fantasy to take over, I pressed her shivering little body against the wall, leaning my full frame against her, enough to trap her but not crush her. My left hand like steel over her mouth, her breaths short and rapid through her nose as she struggled in confusion and panic. I leaned my face down to gently nuzzle behind her right ear, a soft and sensitive touch, and waited till she'd worn herself out.

I took a few slow, deep breaths to calm us both, my lips just barely grazing her ear. I inhaled her, revelling in her sweet scent and melting into it even as I stiffened up against her bouncy ass. Slowly, I felt her relax slightly, a loosening in her muscles that let me know I'd won. She'd accepted my touch and given into the inevitable.

I hugged her a little closer. She was dressed for bed - nothing fancy, she wasn't expecting company, just an oversized t-shirt and cute little shorts that ran tight over the curve of her hips and ass but hung loose between her legs, providing no protection against my assault. I pushed my hand up under her shirt, starting at her upper thigh and moving up till my fingers reached the waistband of her shorts and the soft, bare skin of her lower belly.

She jerked against me with a little squeal as my fingertips made contact, making my heart race. Still moving slow, I began tracing my thumb across her soft belly, teasing her just the way I would if I'd persuaded back to my place after a date. Not pulling her shorts down, just stroking the skin above, communicating my intent. I didn't rush it, I know girls take time, just breathing next to her ear, calming her with my rhythm while I explored her sensitive skin with feather-light touches.

It didn't take long. Just a couple of minutes of delicate torture and I noticed her breathing change, coming a little faster now. I grinned to myself and kept it up, expanding my territory to the side of her waist, stroking down over the delicate jut of her hip bone. That broke her control and the tiniest moan escaped her lips, vibrating my palm.

She froze, but it was too late to take it back. The game was up. I was turning her on, and we both knew it. I stilled my touch, resting my hand firmly and possessively on her right hip and softening the grip of my left hand over her mouth.