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I spy.....((Me, and angelicxdream))

O

Onikaigo

Moon
Joined
Mar 20, 2009
((Forgive the first post, it's not exactly up to my standards, I'm still blowing the dust off of my keyboard.))

There she is! I put my binoculars down for a quick moment, rubbing my sweaty palms on my jeans before I bring the piece back up to my eyes. My grin is hard to contain, but then again I don't really want to contain it. Everything is going so well according to plan, it's surreal! This was only supposed to happen in movies! My cramped manhattan apartment feels even smaller as I stand up, putting the binoculars down on the windowsill, the second story commands a good view of the park. I run over the plan in my mind again, though I have it burned into the back of my brain; it's perfect!

I walk to the door, nervous energy suffusing my limbs, I talk in a low, hyper voice.
"Alright, she comes in through the door, we talk a minute, I show her the pictures and tell her there are copies, and then..."
Oh I very nearly melt in delight, and there's a rush of blood that makes my jeans tight once more. I rub my hands together, my mind frantically rushing onto the other, backup plans.
If she doesn't cooperate, I have the ether ready, she'll go out like a light and she goes into the basement. Nobody will ever find her there, I've got the only key to the janitors closet. It's perfect! She's going to be mine!
I can't help a childish giggle, this time. After so long watching her, my pictures are finally paying off. Nervous legs tap on my carpet in a staccato rhythm, and damnit. I have to take a piss. The tiny bathroom in my apartment barely has rooms for the amenities. A shower, a toilet and a sink with no room to stand in between, and god damnit. Taking a piss with a hard-on isn't exactly easy. Grunting as I position myself, I catch a quick view of myself in the mirror, and I smile. Lank brown hair falls in a wave over my forehead, and I brush it back with my unused hand, admiring myself. At nearly thirty years old, I don't think I'm that bad looking of a guy. My brown eyes peek from under silver wire glasses frames, used for reading mostly. A nondescript white and tan shirt adorns my chest, not overweight but in no way firm. I work as a photographer in a portrait company, I have to look the part. And boy, have I done a lot of photography as of late! Smiling, my teeth are a bit yellowed, but straight, and I toss my hair back from my eyes as I manage to zip up.

Both palms find their way to the cool porcelain of the sink edge, and I look into my own eyes, trying to convince myself to have the balls to follow through with what I've done.
Come on, Jake. You've spent all your life being a Fuckin' coward. You got the balls for this, dontcha. You want this, that bitch is yours. She knows it, why else is she coming to your door right fuckin' now?
 
[It's very well-done, so.. if this isn't up to your standards, I can't wait to find out what is.]

Audrey had received a strange, and threatening phone call from... well, she didn't really know who it was. You know how you know someone by their face rather than their name? That's how she felt. Except, she didn't work with the guy. She never had a conversation with him. And the threatening phone call didn't count. She had seen him a couple of times at the coffee store, the salon, her work, and frowning, she realized that it couldn't just be a coincidence that he was almost everywhere she was. She was positive he didn't go to the same drug store, the same restaurants, the same park that she did. When she had received that phone call, she remembered shivering, hearing the dark voice of the caller on the other line. And not even a half an hour ago, she remembered unable to even string a sentence together. She had barely managed to piece together a shaky yes, before closing her phone and heading to his apartment. She had never been in this area, and had to hail a taxi to get there. She didn't know this guy. Really didn't know him. She just saw him at least three times daily. At least. In the beginning, she had smiled whenever she had seen him. And now, well.. she had barely raised her head to wave to him if she had seen him.

Surprisingly, he lived in a decent area. She didn't expect that. The apartment building looked similar to the ones that lined the rest of the street. Pulling the metal door open, she paused, and opened the note that had been caked in sweat, and in her messy writing, in black ink, she had written, that he had lived on the fourth floor. 415. That was the room number. It stared at her for a few minutes, before nervously pushing the up button, and stepping inside the elevator. So far so good. She kept reminding herself to take baby steps. It wouldn't be so overwhelming then. Unfortunately, it was only a few minutes later before she heard the sharp, unmistakenable ding of the elevator, ringing in her ear, and stepping out into a dimly lit, but seemingly clean hallway. Grateful that no one else had been in the elevator with her, she had been a mess, her body shaking and twitching with every moment that had passed. She wouldn't have been able to even utter a "Good afternoon."

She looked up at the metal plates that had been nailed to the wall. "401-435" led left, and "436-470" led right. She took a deep breath, and steadily walked through the carpeted hallway, watching every number increase as she continued further down the hallway. It wasn't long before she reached her final destination, apartment 415, and took another deep breath, knocking once, twice, and three times on the wooden door. She clutched her leather purse close to her, something she had to fiddle with in her hands. She had shoulder-length chestnut hair, with brown eyes that now grew fearful of what was to come, and a pair of black skinny jeans, and a pink t-shirt that fit easily over the torso of her body, looking up, and waited to hear his footsteps grow closer and closer to the door.
 
Jake moves from the bathroom, his nervousness growing by the second. He paces his cramped living room, overflowing with photography references, one small tv near the far wall, and the kitchenette is in bad need of a cleaning. Cramped, and looking much more like a college kids work space day by day. A hand runs through his hair, pushing it back on top of his head where it belongs, and he can't help but think about his case against Audrey, what he knows. His pictures prove it all, but is it enough?

His right hand snatches the manilla envelope from the coffee table, next to a stack of week old newspapers, scissors, and a coffee mug that's been there a day too long. Opening the folder, he pulls out a still, looking at it with quick eyes. Audrey, in the park talking to some guy in a suit, his name comes back to memory faintly. Jason Devlan, jeweler on 44'th street.
The next still pulled out shows Audrey and Jason in a car, driving off to who knows what decadent activities, then the picture after that....that's where they get interesting. A close up of Devlans hand shows a gold band on the ring finger of his left hand. There is always more than that, if nothing else fuckin' CSI tells you to always have more than one hold over someone. If Audrey doesn't care that Jason is married, then possibly she'll care about his under the table activities.

Putting the folder back onto the table before he gets to the juicy pictures, he walks to the window, looking out of it at the park. His right hand goes into his hip pocket, his left leans against the sill, and thus his head leans against it. His hair once more flows over his eyes, but he doesn't care.

Where is she?
 
Audrey was about to knock on the door once more, and then paused. Did she really want to know what was about to happen? She sighed, and then muttered, "Might as well get it over with." She rang the doorbell, and slouched back, pressing her back into the beige back wall, a bit of a distance away from the wooden front door, and waited. She clutched her cell phone in defense, ready to hit speed dial 3, 911, in case he tried anything. She didn't know anything about this guy. Who the hell was he, what he did, why was he following her? Although, she thought about it, and he might just admit that he wasn't following her, he might deny it because he was embarassed, and it wasn't like she had pictures to show he was in almost every place she was. She didn't know how he knew where she was. Besides work, what she did out of her own personal interest, it was just spontaneous, she didn't know where she was going, she just did. It wasn't like skydiving, she would hardly call going to get a cup of coffee from her favourite vendor being spontaneous, but she was curious, why was he following her? And, what? Did she have a tracking device on her, that he had planted on her? She began to chuckle, and realized that this curiousity might get her killed.

So, this was how she was going to die. Alone. In an apartment of a guy she barely knew. With no witnesses, except for maybe any pets that were laying around. Yes, witnesses that couldn't talk, and were going to side with their owner, that seemed like a good way to go. Besides, she was a woman. A defenceless woman with nothing as a weapon. And, for all she knew, he could have been one of those guys that spent tons of time at the gym when he wasn't stalking innocent women. He could slap her phone away if she tried to call the cops. She groaned, her fingers massaging her temple, tapping her foot impatiently. Was this part of the plan? Extending the torture? Couldn't they get this over with? She was shaking, her heart was pounding faster than normal, and thought about something. What did he want with her? She wasn't rich, she didn't have connections, she was just a normal 25 year old. She worked at a law firm, she was a lawyer, so.. he could have assumed that she was wealthy. But, she wasn't. Not really. She was still working her way up the ladder.

She gritted her teeth, her nails making sharp half-moon crescents in her palm, the frustration, anxiety building up. She slung her purse over her shoulder, waiting patiently. She told herself if he didn't come out in five minutes, she would assume that he wasn't home, and that she could just walk away, and make sure that the bodyguards at work did something about her pest problem. And, that she would file a restraining order at the local police station.
 
The doorbell ringing is like an electric shock. Jake jumps, almost hitting his head on the windowsill, and rubs his palms on his jeans again, before taking several deep breaths, talking quietly to himself.
Come on, you bastard. Open the door, you've gone too far to turn back. She's out there, waiting, and not a damn thing she can do to stop you.

Exhaling deeply, he strides to the door, acting as he knows he should. Confident, arrogant; that time in Drama in high school and college is paying off. He doesn't even look to Audrey, he knows exactly what she looks like, what she's wearing, what perfume she uses. As the door swings open, he says only one thing.

"You're late, Audrey. Come in, make yourself at home."

She's greeting with the same chaotic scene that he sees every morning, photographic references spread over the coffee table, two easy chairs and kitchenette counter, clips of his newspaper photos on the walls, his photography gear in haphazard array in the corner, and the large window with the view of the park and his binoculars on the windowsill. He walks to the kitchenette, dumping out a cup of old coffee and rinsing it out, speaking aloud, his false bravado hard to see through.

"Close the door behind you, please. Would you like a drink, Audrey? I've got coffee, water, Milk. At least I think it's milk, it's been in there a while. You'll want a drink when you open that folder on the table."

If there's one thing TV has taught him, allowing the victim to learn their own fate without being told instills more than a feeling of helplessness. It truly begins to beat in the futility of resistance, and show that their oppressor knows much more than they let on. He continues bustling in the kitchen, his eyes finally sneaking over to her form as she comes to stand in his humble abode, his eyes drinking in her form. His body already aches for her, but he controls himself.

First impressions are everything. Let her think I've done this before, that I know everything. Goddamn, it's working.

A small smile, and a quick thank you prayer to the Gods of TV, and he simply busies himself in the kitchen.
 
"You're late, Audrey. Come in, make yourself at home."

Make herself at home. Audrey frowned, and scrtunized his apartment. She couldn't make herself at home. She wasn't at home! Far from home. She stared longingly out the window, out at the balcony. And then back at the front door where she came. She could jump off the balcony. It would be better than the torture that awaited her in the apartment. It stank of milk, as if.. it was expired milk. And something else she couldn't distinguish. She wasn't late. He was late. She knocked before, not that he had gotten the door. He was probably busy trying to find other ways to torture her, or to prepare him to find documents that would end up leading to her death. She sat down on a chair, placing her purse on her lap, making sure her fingertips touched her cell phone, grazed over the shiny metal. It was her weapon, probably not a good one. But, it was something. While he went to the kitchen, she took this opportunity to snap quick pictures with her cell phone.

"Close the door behind you, please. Would you like a drink, Audrey? I've got coffee, water, Milk. At least I think it's milk, it's been in there a while. You'll want a drink when you open that folder on the table."

A drink. She snorted. She closed the wooden door gently behind her, but didn't lock it. She was going to bolt the first opportunity she had. She wouldn't drink anything in his apartment if he paid her a million dollars. Besides, she just wanted her punishment to be over. She could barely speak, so she cleared her throat again. "N-no. That won't be neccessary." She drew her attention back to the pale yellow folder. She had tons of these folders in her office, but unlike the documents in her office, there were pictures, she could tell by the white border that hung out of the folder. She hadn't realized that he had come out of the kitchen, just staring at her like a predator. Instead, she dropped her cell phone into her purse, and opened the yellow folder herself. He had given her an invitation and she wasn't about to pass it up. Inside were pictures of her and her boyfriend. At first, she was about to demand why the hell did he have pictures of her? And why the hell did he show them to her? It was like a murderer giving the knife to the police. It just didn't make any sense.

And, then it cleared up. Jason. She frowned, he had a wedding ring on. But, they weren't married. She wondered if he photoshopped these pictures, and placed the first one down, behind all the others and stared at the second picture. Jason had a mask over his face, a black outfit, stealing.. from a jewellery store? It didn't make sense. The next picture had the same jewel in his hand, selling it to some older man. She didn't care about what he stole, or what he did with the money. What made her heart break was the shiny gold wedding ring that sat on his ring finger. That's what upset her. She placed the photos back into the order originally, and placed the paperclip back. She stared at the folder, forgetting where she was. She was surprised. Her heart hurt. And, she felt lost. Vulnerable.
 
My own voice surprises me with how calm it sounds. I take a drink of water before speaking to her, leaning against the counter amiably.

"His name is Jason Devlan, twenty seven years old, works at a Tiffany's Jewelry chain on forty fourth street. You've been seeing him for quite some time now, but he's been seeing his wife for the past two years. You've never noticed the pale spot where the ring was, did you?" I take another drink of water, letting that nail work its way into her brain.
"The other pictures, I damn near got shot taking them. Jason has connections to jewelry launderers. Either he, or his, steal them and he re sells them for double the profit, or they're imported illegally from Africa, Egypt, or whatever other country he can get his hands on. Quite a profit, ever wonder how he could afford that wonderful car?"

I move closer, smelling of cheap cologne and a faint underlying tone of sweat. I have a seat in the other easy chair, and I put my mug on the coffee table. "I have enough evidence to put him in jail for a very long time, and give you quite a headache in social circles. I think I might even be able to link you to working with him, given that you've shared his bed, and all of the gifts he's given you are now suspect. I remember a set of earrings for your birthday. Diamonds, weren't they?" I chuckle, no humor in the sound. "How much do you think they cost, now?"

I lean forward, elbows on my knees and palms together, looking at you with brown eyes that speak volumes. "Does it make you happy to have stolen property? Somethin' someone might have died for?"

All the nails, save one. There's always an ace in the hole. Time to see how the woman reacts before he places his demands, and his throat tightens with the thought, palms beginning to sweat again. She looks so young, so....shattered. A smile comes to his face, lust for a fleeting moment, then his acting mask comes back into play. Can't let her know ahead of time, can we?
 
"I have enough evidence to put him in jail for a very long time, and give you quite a headache in social circles. I think I might even be able to link you to working with him, given that you've shared his bed, and all of the gifts he's given you are now suspect. I remember a set of earrings for your birthday. Diamonds, weren't they?"

Audrey wanted to shout at him, scream at him to stop it. She wanted to cover her ears, she didn't want to believe any of it. But first, she spat at him, "How do you know?" She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. "You have no right to spy on me, to stalk me. And, I haven't done anything to you! To deserve all of this!" And now, she was in a tight spot. How would she get it? This was worse than death. This was social suicide. He knew her too well, and she hadn't even spoken to words to him! Just hello every so often once she saw him on the street, but that was it! Once he spoke of linking her with him, she spat on him, and said, "You bastard. You're disgusting."

"How much do you think they cost, now?"

Still, she couldn't string together a sentence. A setence that wasn't laced with anger, and frustration. She was broken hearted, didn't he have any sympathy? She sighed. Tiffany's. One of the biggest, and her favourite jewellery store, and whispered a number. She whispered it so low she didn't know if he heard her. "Twenty-five hundred." She was guessing. Okay, so she had seen it in the catologue and had stared at it through the store window a couple of times. Still. He was manipulating her. Black mailing her. She glared at him, she couldn't do anything else but glare. Every word she spoke was laced with venom, aimed at him.

"Does it make you happy to have stolen property? Somethin' someone might have died for?"

"No!" She muttered, "I didn't know they were stolen. I'll give it all back." She took a deep breath, and moved her chair a bit away from where he was sitting. He was sitting too close for comfort. He already had many, many things on her. What else did he want? And finally, she echoed the question that was plaguing her mind. "What the fuck do you want?"
 
"You're right, you know. I have no right to spy on you, but when I'm given such monumental items to work with, by complete luck! I have to continue."

I lean back, sighing as I stretch my arms over my head. I look at you with a quizzical eye,
"Twenty five hundred? You're assuming he bought those earrings. Foolish, given his background. Want to see something interesting?" With half a smile, I shuffle some papers about on the coffee table, coming up with a printed document that appears to be an invoice.

"This is his stores shipping invoice for the month, showing remarkable profit. Also, showing only one shipment from the Tiffany warehouse to restock. Yet here, I have attached pictures of no less than four vehicles dropping off delivery bags, all of the men involved were armed. Including Jason. What could be in those bags that's so important that every man involved is packing more heat than I really care to get involved in? Twenty five hundred, yeah right." I scoff.

I stand, thrusting my hands into my pockets, and look down to you. Always take any edge they offer, including the physical one. With my meager five foot nine height, this only works if you're sitting down.
"I have you pretty much fucked, Audrey." I laugh at the unwitting pun. "Jason, and you, go to jail and you get the social stigma after you're released. I'll make sure of that. Would you like to know what happens to young, pretty things like you in jail? I have pictures of that too. I researched it, just for today."

My eyes are getting too difficult to control, the lust is showing through more and more often, soon, if she was looking she'd see it. Not only that, but with my hands being in my pockets my jeans are even tighter, highlighting pretty obviously what I was thinking.

"Now, what can we do about this situation?"
 
"Now, what can we do about this situation?"

Audrey didn't know what he was thinking, and she made the terrible mistake of looking into those eyes. She could read the lust that he wasn't even going to control, and crossed her arms over her chest. Playing dumb, she said, "I don't know what the fuck you want. But, whatever it is, you're not getting it." She wanted to slap him. Unfortunately, she ended up being the smaller, shorter person in all of this, and realized it wasn't wise. She was getting sick just looking at him. She couldn't believe what was happening. Jail, or.. No! She didn't even want to think about the other choice. It wasn't a choice. She spat at him, he disgusted her. Did he do this with other women? He must have. He sounded so professional. "You're sick." She didn't even try to control the clear anger in her voice. She wished he died when he tried to get those photos for her. Alas, she wasn't very lucky today, was she?

Techinically, she was still in a relationship with Jason. And, that would mean.. she would be as bad as he was. Well, no, not as bad because he had a fucking wife, and he was sleeping with his wife behind her back. So, if she did sleep with... this guy, she would not be doing anything wrong. She looked around his apartment nervously, and said, "Rape is a crime, it's illegal." Yes, that was her arguement, rape. Because, it took two people to tango. And, she wasn't going to be doing any dancing with him. She wasn't going to be willing. He'd have to force her. She'd rather jump off the balcony than fuck him. And, she knew what people did with "young, pretty things" like her in jail. He didn't have to tell her that. And, she was a lawyer, her own lawyer. She could sue him. Restraining order. Sexual assault. Blackmail. Sue the fuck out of him. And then, sue her lovely boyfriend.

For a brief moment, when he had called her a young and pretty thing, she blushed. Okay, she shouldn't be flattered by what this scumbag had said, but.. everyone loved compliments. And, she was no exception. She pulled her chair farther away from him, so now it looked like that they weren't having a conversation. Their bodies weren't close enough to be having a conversation so it would be abnormal in public. And she couldn't run away screaming. They weren't in public. Cursing, she glared at him.
 
Laughing, I'd turn, walking to the door and turning the key in the lock with finality. Doing his best to predict Audrey, he speaks as he does so.

"I wouldn't touch that cell phone if I were you. Yes, it would hurt if you threw it at me, but think of how much it would hurt whenever the police came for you as well. I'd get to see you wearing orange, just like me." Leaning against the door, I'd fold my arms over my chest, tilting my head to the left.

"Now, Audrey Darlin', I know your brain is working really fast right now. I can admire that, but I've thought this thing through. I want you to smile, be an actress and a trooper, and you'll be done with me by the end of the day. Hell, I can even promise you'll not have to worry about another picture from me the rest of your pretty little life. These will go away, and you'll never see me again."

A half smile comes to my face. "As I said, you'll haveta be an actress for a little while, but I don't think you'll have any problem with that." I cross my left ankle over my right ankle, looking completely at ease, only the nervous tic over my right temple giving my away. Damn, but my nerves are shot.

What a ride, though! The adrenaline coursing through my system is amazing. I feel strong, I feel powerful. This woman is going to give me what I want, what I've always wanted, and she won't even know she's digging herself in deeper. I almost laugh, but if she doesn't see the way I'm chaining her, it's her own damn fault. Lawyers aren't so smart after all.
 
[OOC: You kept using "I" instead of third person. Also, is he really going to let her go after just one day?]

Audrey gagged. She didn't want to be compared to him! That lowlife. And, orange really wasn't her color. And, she wouldn't be able to be promoted if she had a criminal charge against her. On her permanent record. She felt like crying. This was worse than seeing Jason in that picture with that other woman! She knew she was the other woman, but.. Jason, with his wife, that made her sick. She gritted her teeth, she couldn't cry. She couldn't give him the satisfaction of letting him see her cry. No. He didn't deserve that! He didn't even deserve to be thought of in her pure, innocent head. That's right. Innocent. Because she was. If she hadn't bought that load of crap that Jason gave her, she wouldn't be in this mess.

"Now, Audrey Darlin', I know your brain is working really fast right now. I can admire that, but I've thought this thing through. I want you to smile, be an actress and a trooper, and you'll be done with me by the end of the day. Hell, I can even promise you'll not have to worry about another picture from me the rest of your pretty little life. These will go away, and you'll never see me again."

Her head snapped up when he called her that despicable word. Darling. "DON'T fucking call me that." And then, a small, wary smile appeared at the corners of her mouth. Of course, she wasn't going to let him see that. So, she turned away so he could see her back. And then turned back around, and asked with a bit of hope in her voice, "Really? Just the end of today? No more pictures, no more encounters? No more following me around?" She didn't want to believe his filthy lies, but you know when you have to put your trust into the person you distrust the most? She felt like she was being lied to, being framed. It was already 3 PM. Just the rest of the day. So, until the light went down and night broke out across the sky, that wasn't hard. If he really pushed it, it would only last until 8 PM. That was five hours. Of sickening torture. She gagged, gross. Disgusting. Realizing that she was just guessing what he wanted, and he hadn't told her exactly what he wanted, she asked, venom in her voice, "What do you want from me?"

Actress. Was that what he called it? She snorted. That was ridiculous. She didn't want to be his puppet, that he controlled and manipulated but she already was. She wouldn't admit it outloud. But, she hated every minute of this.
 
[[OOC: As stated, still blowing dust off of my keyboard. 'Tis hard to break old habits. =P ]]


Jake can really get used to this feeling, this power surge. This is like a jolt of electricity hitting a mans system. Empowerment, complete power over somebody else, especially when they don't realize the traps jaws are shutting.
Now, to add teeth to that trap, but at the same time, make her fall into it.

"Yes, Audrey. No more pictures. The only time you might see me is if for some reason you come back here, or we meet in the supermarket somewhere. Everyone goes to Wal Mart, right? So, here's the deal. You do what I tell you to do until dark, oh...about four hours. Then, once that happens, you go away. The pictures go away, I'll even tell you where I hid the other ones, so you can have the satisfaction of destroying those as well, but perhaps not the closeup of Jason. That'd be too sweet to show him in court, wouldn't it?"

Of course she'd vent on him, since Jake is untouchable. About to be more so. If she actually believes he's telling the truth....! The thought makes him want to grin. He unfolds his arms, holding them out, palms up and replies to her last demand.
"What do I want? Well, I thought you had seen through to that part. I want you. Until nightfall."

There, he's said it. And now he really, really wants a drink of water. His throat feels dry, and his palms are sweating more and more. Bah! How much longer can he keep this up? once the video starts she'll be locked in, but until then she can just leave now, and there's really not much he'd do to her. He's done a damn good job of showing teeth and barking, but even he doesn't know if he'd really bite if she tried to leave.

Just say Yes, bitch. You'll be screaming my name soon enough. Welcome to the rest of your life.
 
Audrey was slowly being swept deeper and deeper into this spell that he had cast onto her forcefully. She got up off her chair, and stood in front of him, her body trembling. Fine. She'd go along with it, with his sick plan as long as it ended tonight. She nodded, and muttered a small and reluctant, "Yes." It was as if that word answered every question he had in mind. Yes. She'd go along with it. Might as well get this over with. Just four hours. She looked past him, into the interior of the apartment. "Is the b-bedroom this way?" She gulped. She didn't know her way around his apartment, the hallway that led to four other rooms. The doors sealed the rooms, and she wondered if it was locked. It'd be funny to lock the rooms, as it was in the apartment. And, the apartment door should be locked anyway. She was referring to the first door to the left, if that was the bedroom door. She was afraid to hear his answer.

"What do I want? Well, I thought you had seen through to that part. I want you. Until nightfall."

Unfortunately, she shivered, getting turned on that he wanted her. And to such great extent. From stalking her to blackmailing her. He could have just asked her out like a normal human being. But, that was too much for him, wasn't it? "I'll be in here." She muttered, turning the knob and pushing the first door open to see the bedroom, and gasped, red blankets that looked like satin. And felt like it too. It was as if the blankets, so red it was almost crimson, was mocking her. And the candles that were lit around the bedroom, as if they had known she would get here. She knew it was silly, but she couldn't help it. Oh, and yes, she wasn't about to have sex in the kitchen with him. The bedroom was more appropriate, not great, but more appropriate. She didn't want to be here in the first place.

Her defences were down. Her purse, with the cell phone, was in the living room. And she doubted she could run fast enough to catch it and be able to dial 911 before he caught up with her. It was just four hours. Four hours. As foolish as she was, she trusted him even though part of her was screaming at her to not trust him. She didn't know him, and he didn't, doesn't, care about anything but his selfish motives. He didn't care about her freedom. So, why would he let her go? She was about to leave the bedroom when she looked up, and saw him come in right after her. Of course, she had to be supervised. There was no telling what she would do, and he had to make sure she stayed put, completed her side of the bargain.
 
When Audrey leaves the room, a quick motion; he wipes his brow. Obliterating the telltale stress sweat that was beading there. A grin of exultation exudes itself from his face, and he lets out a deep sigh, hoping it's not heard. Moving quickly, he picks up what looks to be a TV remote, while she's inspecting his bedroom, and flips power to on, and presses record. Showtime.

Moving in behind her, he smiles faintly, thrusting his hands in his pockets again as he leans against the doorway. Looking your body up and down once, he'd continue smiling, almost not knowing where to begin. His bedroom is small, but bedecked in much the fashion as described. Red satin sheets, a kingsize bed that barely fit into the small space, barely allowing the dresser and room to open the closet door. Around the walls are paintings, cheap knockoffs from downtown vendors, but exuding the same sexual quality all the same. And, the most important thing, in two of the paintings are hidden cameras, now turned on and recording the entire scene.
Being a nerd does have its' perks.

His voice is quiet, now gentle and smooth as he addresses her.

"You like it? It took me a bit of effort to get that monster in here, but I think it well worth the effort. What do you think?" He moves closer as he speaks, placing his hands on your waist from behind, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. He's not too terribly much taller than you, so this is done without becoming too uncomfortable. Hell, who can be uncomfortable with someone like Audrey in their arms?

His whisper comes to your ear next, quiet. Gentle, soothing and smooth.

"Relax, Beautiful."

And with that, a gentle kiss on the side of your neck begins the night. Unless reacted to in some unsightly fashion, such as violence or reluctance.
 
"You like it? It took me a bit of effort to get that monster in here, but I think it well worth the effort. What do you think?"

Audrey was stunned. She smiled, and said, "It's very quite... lovely." She was afraid to offend him, afraid that he would take back his deal, and prolong it, make it worse. The room was so sexual. It was as if it was the only trait that exuded out of this room. She was positive that that he was more than just a sexual man. Well, she was hoping. Just how many women had fallen into his trap like her? She paused, looking around the room, at the paintings that were hung, they were nude paintings of women. And it would have looked distinguished, maybe even sophtisticated on more pleasant circumstances. But, it just reeked of rape, sexual assault, standing here near this man. That she barely knew. But, apparently, he knew her quite well. She shivered, not at all a pleasant sign that this was going to be comfortable, her body trembling, afraid to look up into those eyes, afraid of starting these four tortorous hours of hell. She shouldn't have agreed to this, she kept telling herself, she was an idiot for agreeing.

As he pulled her into his arms, his arms around her waist, she knew she was gone. She might as well attempt to enjoy this. She sighed, and realized thankfully that he wasn't much taller than she was. She slide her arms around his neck, fingers running through his dark brown locks of hair, repeating this over and over. If he wasn't such a creep, she might even consider going out with him. This was nice. She tried to remember that this was forced, and he kept her here out of his own selfish desires. Not because he had a heart. Because he didn't have a heart.

"Relax, Beautiful."

Damn him. She wanted to push him away, tell him that kissing her neck was turning her on and making her blush. Like he'd listen. Then she would march straight into that living room and call 911. But, she'd hang up before anyone picked up. Why? Because she didn't want to be stuck in prison for five years, or more, wearing orange, and on the off chance, she might be jail cell buddies with him. He disgusted her. And then, she felt his warm lips against her neck and sighed into his embrace. Damn. Her body was betraying her. Also, why did he have to compliment her again?! She was almost like a liquid in his arms, she realized she probably would have fallen if he wasn't holding her. Damn him, straight to hell.
 
Jake can feel her inner battle, but soon that thought is out of his head as her hands run through his hair. His lips trace a slow line up the side of her neck, soon coming to gently nibble on her earlobe, his hands gently resting on the front of your waist now. His thumbs hook into your belt loops, his fingers splayed out on your upper thighs. He releases your earlobe to allow his mouth to travel down again to your collarbone and shoulder. Warm, wet kisses pave the way, his body coming up behind you to press against your back with a warm, insistent presence.
His right hand comes up your side, caressing your hip, ribcage, and arm in a slow deliberate motion that ends cupping your hand in his own, holding it to his cheek, savoring the warmth. He kisses your palm, rocking his hips slowly back and forth to his own rhythm.
The same hand that holds yours begins to slowly travel back down your wrist with a spider touch, coming past your elbow, snagging on your shirtsleeve briefly, and then coming to your face. Cupping your chin, he'd gently apply pressure to turn your lips to his, leaning in for a slow kiss.

Now this is more like it.....

Unheard, and unseen, the two cameras perform their silent vigil. He had placed them well, there was only one tiny blindspot in the room, and he'd not be heading anywhere near the night table, as its' drawers and top are the only areas not seen on the cameras. He's going to want to remember this, but hell. Why remember? Audrey is going to be around for a long, long while.
 
Audrey sighed once he nibbled on her earlobe, a small and reluctant giggle coming out of her mouth. Damn him. She was ticklish when she shouldn't be. She didn't want to giggle because she didn't want to show him that she was willing. She couldn't complain about rape in court if she did this. Although, if she brought him down, she had no doubt he would bring her down to his level too. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think when his lips had travelled down to her collarbone, wondering where else his mouth would reach. At least when he kissed his shoulder, she was clothed. Yes, she was clothed. She was revelling in the feeling of the soft fabric against her body, protecting her from him. And yet, she wanted him to continue.

She stopped breathing, her heart stopped when he started to rock his hips against hers, feeling the friction between his legs, her eyes went wide, a blush staining her cheeks. Her lips were parted, suddenly dry, licking her own lips for moisture, not knowing that he had just taken this as an invitation. Once she saw his face move closer to kiss her, she wanted to pull away, slap him, turn her cheek to the side so he would get her cheek rather than her lips, her heart beat faster. She did no such thing, did not move away, secretly wanting to feel his lips against hers. It started out slow, but slowly, the heat between them began to simmer gently, her fingers tracing the outline of his cheek, remembering that she had been in bed with Jason, she was experienced. There was no reason to be nervous. She kept self-assuring herself. Yes, it would be fine.
 
Jake smiles, breaking the kiss slowly to look into your eyes. There is a strange kindness in his, but also the lust that you had seen earlier. Taking his hands from your waist, he'd pat your ass, saying, "I wanna see you, all of you."
The hand he used to pat your ass would catch the bottom of your shirt, pulling it upwards to expose your belly, and soon much more. His fingers trail along your skin, the other hand soon joining in and leaving electric trails up your stomach and ribs. Leaning his head back, he'd continue lifting your shirt until either it's completely off or you do it for him. Either way, the shirt would make its' own small pile near the doorway, and he would twist around from behind you and sit on the edge of that monstrous bed, enjoying the view.

He'd lean back onto his elbows, eyes alight on your body and bare flesh, and his arousal is finally evident. He's obviously not a small man, if the tent in his trousers is anything to go by, and he's very much awake and aware of you right now. Painfully so. A short phrase comes from his lips then, one you probably won't like to hear, but he's going to say anyways.

"Show me more."

Another TV commanded ritual; if one was to dominate, do as little work as possible. Let your Victim, per se, do the work and thus incriminate themselves. Once they put themselves into a compromising position, it's easier to undermine the person who performed the action as foolish, and guidance becomes much, much easier.
 
Audrey gasped, feeling the hand he used to pull it off her body, inch by inch, her skin was exposed, the pale skin lit up by the glow of the sunlight outside. She stood in her pink bra with her jeans on. She felt vulnerable now, blushing, and trying to cover her body although she couldn't reach the rest of the body to cover it with her slender arms. Damn. She eyed her t-shirt that landed at the corner of the room with longing. Unfortunately, she stared at the tent of his trousers for one too many minutes, and bit her lip. She could feel her panties get drenched with her juices, begging silently for something to fill her. She shivered, it had gotten colder in the room now that he hadn't touched her, keeping her warm, and now that her t-shirt was on the ground. She already missed the soft feel of fabric against her skin.

"Show me more."

She gulped, nodding, she wanted this to happen, she wanted to feel his power and dominance, pushing her to her limits, filling her with his seed, their moans and screams of ecstasy filling the room, blushing. Hesitantly, her fingers shook, he was a stranger, and she was still shy and didn't want to discard any more of her clothes. She felt so vulnerable. She reached behind her back to unclasp the bra, hearing the fall on her bed. She crossed her arms over her chest, her breasts were 36C so not too small and not too big, and unfortunately, this act just made her breasts seem bigger. Her pearly pink nipples hardened against the cool air and from thinking about his cock dissapearing into her moist folds.

Next, she began to unzip her jeans, pulling them off with still the same hesitation she still had. She pushed them down to her ankles, bending down to step on the fabric, walking out of the leg holes, and looked up at him for the final piece of clothing, taking off her rather sticky, wet bright pink panties, and stepped out of those. Now, she was as vulnerable as ever. She felt so naked, so.. exposed, looking at him, wondering what he was thinking.
 
Jakes eyes light on fire. Or damn well nearly. As her skin is exposed, he shifts on the bed, sitting up to allow his heels to rest on the floor, beckoning with his left hand for you to come closer, so he can feel what he loves to look at. His left hand takes your, placing it behind his head and then goes to cup your ass, pulling you into him with an intense, yet controlled, pull. He'd then begin to lick his way down from your neck to your breasts, swirling around your nipples with his tongue, his hands kneading the soft flesh of your ass. His fingers almost reaching your pussy from the back, tickling your ass then pulling back, teasing and sending electric jolts into your body.

Smiling, he'd take your left nipple in his mouth, his teeth settling on the nub and gently applying pressure. Pulling back, he'd stretch it out to allow it to pop back into place with a jiggle. Chuckling, his tongue resumes its journey, leaving a swath of warm desire as he tastes of you.

He shifts on the bed to get into a better position, his crotch coming into contact with your right leg, the heat from his body palpable, begging to be let loose. He owns you, now. And he knows that you know it.
 
Audrey followed his hand, which was insisting that she come closer. Her heart racing, as she took those two steps, breathing heavily. It was going to happen. Sex. With a total stranger. It was going to happen. She felt her cheeks flush, pressing her nails against her soft skin, praying it would be over with quickly. She didn't like how helpless she was right now, and without any power. She felt the cool hand grip her ass, suprised she let out a small squeak, sliding her hand into his hair, now coming onto the bed with him, kneeling in front of him. To get more comfortable, she laid on the bed beside him, letting him get on top, sighing into his ear as he began to lick his way down her body. She tilted her head back, watching him as he played with her firm nipples, biting her lip from letting out a moan. No, she wasn't going to give in so easily. She didn't like the way that her blood boiled for him, that she had electric tingles run down her body when he started to use his tongue. She watched him, helpless, as he did whatever he wanted to her body, trembling.

When his hand lowered to almost graze the entrance of her pussy, she was glad that his fingers had stopped and a bit dissapointed. She gasped, a loud audible sound, as she felt his crotch being pressed against her bare leg. She looked up, and carefully, slowly, she began to undo the buttons of his dress shirt first, watching as inch by inch, skin was exposed. Her fingers trembled, working on the top button of his pants, pushing down the zipper open, breathing slowly. It was okay, there was underwear underneath. No need to be scared. She pushed the fabric of the pants off his waist, down to his ankles, her fingers shook as she finally grasped the waistband of his underwear, pushing them down, her eyes getting wide as she saw just how big he was, and how ready he was. She bit her lip, trying not to moan, trying to make her body not be ready for him. But, it wasn't working. Her body rarely listened to her mind.
 
Jake found himself on top, which he really couldn't complain about. It's simply where he belongs with Audrey. Hah, give him a few days of this and he'll actually start to believe the part he was acting in the living room.
Shrugging his shoulders, his shirt slides off of his arms, and he tosses it to join the pile to reveal the somewhat tanned skin of a person that gets outdoors, but doesn't care for the sun too much. When his pants are undone, he chuckles deep in his throat, his teeth tightening on the skin of your neck with obvious pleasure. Kicking them off, he breaks off his bite to stand above you while you pull his briefs down. His cock, finally released from its cage, springs to horizontal attention. All eight inches of it. A grin splits his face, his right hand grasping his own shaft, his left tangling in your hair to pull you up and forward.

His intentions are obvious as he propels you toward his waiting cock, his right hand stroking himself slowly, allowing the pleasure to begin to build. His left hand tightens, maybe a little painfully, and if you don't open he'd press it against your lips, forcing his way inside. Either way, once inside he'd forcefully thrust his hips forward, trying to make you gag.

"Suck my Cock, bitch. You want me to fuck your face, dontcha? Say it, my little slut."

The first crude words he's spoken aloud since you arrived, the change in personality can only mean one thing. He's starting to really get into this, obviously.
 
Audrey could barely stop staring at it, blushing, and licking her lips. Once he grasped her hair, she squeaked again, seeing him touch himself, she whispered into his ear, her lips brushing along the soft skin and said, "Don't touch yourself. Let me help.." She took his hand off, it barely registered in her mind what she was doing, what she was saying, and told herself that she might as well enjoy it. She didn't need him to force her anymore, her lips opening for him, and held his cock at the base, her lips forming an "O" shape as her tongue started by swirling itself around the cockhead. She held onto his hips, lowering her mouth further and further on the meat. She couldn't help but push herself harder and harder against his meat. She had forgotten how good this experience could be. Happily, she was lapping up his meat, pushing his cock in and out of her mouth, coating it with her saliva, rubbing against his balls, her fingers exploring every inch of his body that she could reach.

"Suck my Cock, bitch. You want me to fuck your face, dontcha? Say it, my little slut."

Pulling her mouth off his cock so she could talk, she sat up dazed, and took a few minutes for his words to settle in, blushing. "Yes, oh, I want to fuck my face. I want to suck on you so much.." She went back to her work, her mouth assaulting his cock, her fingers reaching down to squeeze his balls, deep throating the meat, panting, pushing her hips in her mouth, her tongue flicking over the sensitive flesh.
 
Jake has to close his eyes as he hears her say those words, a moan escaping his lips at the sensation. Though no virgin, someone as eager and voracious as Audrey...Damn, he had never dreamt of this!

Looking down, his right hand ruffles your hair, coming to grip the base of your neck, forcing his cock as deep as it can go and holding it there for a moment, before pulling back out and doing it again, and again. Closing his eyes again, he increases his pace. His balls slap against your chin with a wet sloppy noise, and his moans become louder, his face turning red with the effort. Slowing down, he'd allow you to breathe, knowing that he couldn't go like that too long.

"Good fucking God, Audrey. You're a born cocksucker."

Smiling down at you, he'd play with your hair, a grin on his face that's wide with pleasure. He's considering fucking you now, or waiting until he cums here and then works on you.

Good god this feels too fucking good.
 
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