Stalker
I’ve been watching you for a couple of days now. Can you see me? Can you feel me? I’m staring at you from outside your window. I watch you as you perfrom for strangers. exposing yourself to people you don’t even know. It sickens me. You need to be taught a lesson.
I’ve been watching for some days now, so I know your routine. I know when you’re alone and when you have your lights on so you can show your body to these strange men.
When I know you’re alone, I make my move. I know you’re awake. Sitting in front of the computer wearing your nightie. It’s red satin. I can’t wait to let you know how to wear it. The door isn’t that hard to pick and it opens quitely. I tiptoe behind you, making sure the webcam isn’t on right now. It’s safe, and you don’t hear me as I watch the flicker of the computer screen dance on your face. You must see my shadow, as you turn quickly around. You can only make a muffled sound as I cover your mouth with my hand. Your warm mouth on my cold hand. I feel the heat of your breath on my hand, your stifled scream warming up my fingers. I push you down into your chair.
“Shut up, bitch,” I command. You shake, but obey. Your eyes widen, looking around for help. I know there’s no one here tonight to help you; I watched them all go away.
I let go of your mouth. Your muffled cries continue as I tie your hands around the back of your chair. “Shut up,” I mutter.
… I’m going to have to continue this. Sorry.