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Stalking Fantasy - Blog Posts
I'm hoping so much to rejoin with some people I've met here. Such a wonderful Doms, such filthy horny anons...
Sad thing I'm not interesting enough to try and stalk me moving from blog to blog. It'd be kind of hot to know that somebody is watching my every move enough for that. They'd be probably well aware of my other social media, ready to blackmail me into submission. The only reason it hasn't happened yet is that I'm too much of a slut. Any dirty anon message make me so exited and obedient, that there's no need for pressure. But they have their means to force me into things if needed. That's what matters. And that's what's making my panties wet right now.
masked kink
Which cuck will order the mask? Inbox
#wantstobecukolded
😈
need an older man to find me drinking with my friends and get me to himself. we'll talk and he'll order me more drinks until i tell my friends to leave without me. i'm completely gone by the time he mentions going home, so i give him my address so he can drive me.
once we're there, i expect him to leave, but he welcomes himself into my home, into my room. he slowly takes off my clothes, and i try to stop him, i really do, but it's useless.
he tells me how he'd been eying me all night, fantasizing about how and when he'd rape me. he tells me how he doesn't wanna hurt me, how i'll love it, completely ignoring my protests. it's not like it matters, he so much stronger than me anyways and i'm completely out of my mind drunk.
my clothes are off and i faintly feel him rubbing my cunnie, whispering about how wet i am so i must love it... is that true?
once he deems me wet enough, he lines his cock up to my entrance and unbearably slowly slides himself in. all the while telling me how good i feel, how tight i am, how he's been so patient for it.
i never knew i could be raped so... gently? he tells me how desperate i am since i'm clearly in love with his cock. moaning and drooling all over myself from being taken advantage of, but never slamming into me. i'm not sure if it's worse this way, having my rapist take his time breaking me in.
it's not until i've cum three times on his cock do i realize i've been begging for more, begging to be raped by him. he never really picks up the pace, which makes me sob at the speed. i think he likes seeing me cry because i feel him getting harder inside of me. he continues degrading me, raping me slowly, kissing my tears away, i'm so confused..
i think he impregnates me with how many loads he gave me, forced upon me. he tells me how good i was, taking all of him like that. how he's needed that so badly and that i was such a good rape slut for him, making it so easy.
It's kinda funny how a lot of smart people on tumblr secretly are pathetic dumb whores who crave to be ordered around and raped.
The stalker, part 1.
Day 1.
You're enjoying lunch with your friend at your favorite café. After a while of friendly conversation and laughter, you notice a guy staring at you from across the room. Dark brown eyes, we'll groomed beard, highlighting the attractive shape of his face. Handsome for sure, but something about his intense stare makes you uncomfortable. As the conversation with your friend continues, you keep glancing over to him, and it seems like his eyes are glued to you. It's almost like he's right there in your personal space. You just can't shake that uncomfort.
As you're getting up to leave, you notice him scanning your entire body, focusing on every inch, almost as if he was undressing you with his intense eyes. You just want to leave.
Your friend and you are walking home, and conversation gets easier as you slowly relax again. You start to feel how tense your body actually was, but somehow his handsome face isn't leaving your mind either.
As you're hugging your friend, in front of your door, you see a tall guy at the end of the street, with a similar jacket to him and for a second you tense, but then you remind yourself. He was sitting in the restaurant when you left, so that's not him.
Day 4.
It's been a couple of days now since that incedent in the restaurant, and you're barely thinking about the guy. Until now. You just entered the bus to get home from work, and he's sitting there, staring at you. Immediately you feel that tension again. That uncomfort. His eyes just slicing through the air. It almost feels like his looks slice through your clothes, expose you. And even though you're so tense and uncomfortable you feel how your lap is starting to get a little bit wet. After all, he's an attractive man giving you all his attention.
As you walk to the door to exit at your stop, you notice how he gets up as well. Still staring up and down your beautiful body. He steps out of the bus a little bit after you and walks just a few meters behind you. You can feel his eyes on your back. His eyes on your butt. His eyes on your legs. You start walking faster, and faster, without turning around, you can still feel him behind you.
As you get closer to your door your heart starts beating faster and faster, you don't want him to know where you live, but you also don't want to look at him and accidentally signal something. But you turn around anyway, and you'd continue walking past your door if you had to. But he's gone.
You realize how stupid that was. He probably wasn't even looking at you.
As you enter your door, you turn around one more time, and from the corner of your eye, you see him standing on the other side of the road, behind a car. Staring at you.
"Fuck, it wasn't stupid, and now he knows where I live".. Your brain goes wild, your breath short, your heart rate explodes.
You come in and quickly want to close the blinds, but you just have to check - he is nowhere to be seen. Maybe it was just in your imagination?
Day 5.
You couldn't sleep all night. You're scared to open your blinds. Scared to leave the house. You call your friend to pick you up to go to work together. And as you leave the house, there is no sight of him. Neither in your favorite place for lunch, nor on your way home. You start to relax. As you open your mailbox, you find a letter with just a heart drawn on it. And inside a picture. A picture of you from the restaurant the other day.
What is happening? And why do you feel your lap getting warm, even though you're scared an uncomfortable?
Day 6.
Another night of rough sleep... But you carefully open the blinds in the morning. Noone there. You take a shower like every morning, walking back into your room with just a towel, you get dressed like always. Continously checking out side whether you see him, but Noone is there. Nothing on your way to work, or on your way home either. But your dread opening your letter box. Rightly so. Inside another letter. Another picture of you, in the towel from this morning. But even worse, he seemed to have taken a Polaroid and put his cock right next to it. Immediately you freeze. What a sick pervert?! You're tense, your heart is beating fast, and it takes you some time to realize, that you're completely wet. His cock is huge. And what a gorgeous shape, and even though you don't want to admit it, your body tells you different. Almost like in trance, you go inside, close the blinds and masturabte looking at his cock.
As you fall asleep you feel so ashamed and naughty considering what you just did...
Day 12
For almost a week now you haven't seen him. No pictures. Nothing. Maybe he got his fun and that's it. And even though you're still thinking about him, you start to let your guards down.
As you step out of the shower into your room, with open blinds and dressed with nothing but a towel, he stands right in front of you windows, staring at you.
You freeze. You wanna scream but you can't. You cannot move for what feels like an eternity. You notice his hands in his pocket is moving. There is a huge buldge in his pants. Suddenly you snap out of it and run back to the bathroom. "Fuck, what am I gonna do? Call the police? Call my friend?" you wait for 15 minutes and take a peak. He's gone. Immediately you run to the windows and close the blinds. "Okay, he's gone.. I can just go to work". You're so scared, yet so excited and turned on somehow. You don't even know where that comes from.
As you step into the bus, you see him again. He's staring at you, and next to him there is an empty seat. With a single head movement he signals you to sit down next to him. Your heart is pumping. Youre breathing fast, and you don't want to, but he seems to have so much control, you do it anyway.
As you sit down, he puts his hand on your knee. Immediately you start shivering. That mix of fear and excitement is thrilling. It's driving you crazy. He whispers in your ear: "you look cute in just a towel."
You blush, you're so embarrassed.
"but, aren't you a little old to wear pink panties?"
You're shocked. How would he know what kind of panties you wear? You closed the blinds! No way he could have known.
"Yes, I have cameras in your place".
He gets up, smiles at you for the first time. But not a kind smile. A devious smile. And leaves the bus. Leaving you in complete desperation. And fear, and somehow: excitement.
🐶
not saying i have a piss kink, but if you were balls deep in my throat and had to go, what could i do 🤷🏻♀️
waiting for daddy’s cummies arf arf 🐶
Time to unwrap my present…
Hope you enjoyed the ride-this next ride will be a little less relaxing.
How bout I make you my office decoration?
Silence is silver
This is all I need
Tell me how it all happened. Tell me how you were too young to know better about what was happening. Tell me how you cried when "no" after "no" was ignored. Tell how small you felt. Tell me how empty it made you. Tell me how guilty you felt for even letting yourself be used like that. Tell me how much you cried as I touch you. Let me overwrite all of that trauma. Let me replace every gross hand that defiled you. Let me replace all those monsters that fill your nightmares. I'll be worse if I have to so that everything feels so new and horrible. I want to see your broken body crawl to me and hear you say "thank you" for helping you heal.
i wish i had a daddy to be so obsessed with me that he would kidnap me just cause he loves me so much >< and he knows how sensitive i am, he just wants to protect me from the world and how cruel it is
god how badly i wish i could be someone's entire world. to have someone clinging into me all the time like 24/7, texting me from work, texting me from everywhere because i'm all they have in mind
Okay I just had an amazing idea! Imagine reader as Hannibals patient and both of them meeting in an online portal similar to tattle crime where you can chat privately, they start talki g and develop like a relationship but for the sake of their identities they keep their real names out of the chat when one day the reader texts hannibal that they're at the psychiatrists office with a picture of the floor attatched, Hannibal obviously realizes its the floor of the waiting room, during the session he acts like nothing happened but at the end of their session hannibal adresses the reader by their username. The rest is up to you!
A/N: Hi, thank you for this request I really loved the idea. I changed it a bit because we all know that Hannibal would never leave anything to chance, of course he is gonna stalk you babe ;)
Warnings: Stalking.
Words: 1.442K
It was late in the evening, Baltimore’s cold weather made you stay under your fuzzy blankets with a hot cup of tea. Your laptop on your lap, you logged onto your account in Tattle Crime. It was a blog about your city’s newest crimes, recently you have been on that blog a lot, there was a serial killer on the loose, people were wither sharing info or commenting about the gruesome murders. Everyone was talking about the ‘’Chesapeake Ripper’’ you’ve always been interested in serial killer’s mindsets so Tattle Crime was a useful blog on that to feed your curiosity, how you were oblivious to what’s to come…
You read some articles which compares the Chesapeake Ripper to other serial killers and you left a comment under it, saying that comparing is false, because he is something we have never seen before etc. It was your honest opinion, his killings and presentation of the bodies were more meticulously sophisticated. You referred to the killer as ‘’him’’ due to the fact that most serial killers were male.
You opened a new tab and surfed on the internet, you were watching your favorite old Hollywood movie when you had a notification from Tattle Crime. The blog had dm box so that users could communicate which you never used before but someone sent you a text. The user didn’t have their name, their handle was ‘’Botticeli’’ the last name of the famous painter, Sandor Botticelli, your handle was ‘’Hekate’’ the witch goddess. You didn’t like putting your real name out there and appearently so did the person who messaged you.
‘’I am interested in your thoughts regarding the Chesapeake Ripper, I would love to hear more if that is convenient for you.’’
It was strange but you loved to chat about your favorite topics, since you weren’t busy you decided to text back.
‘’Hello, of course. I would love to chat about him, he is such an enigma.’’ You sent and waited, for some reason your hands went cold, you had a strange sensation in your stomach.
You had messaged a stranger online for 4 hours, the conversation was vibrant and it was obvious that the guy you were texting was knowledgeable, you learned that he was a 40 year old man, living in Baltimore, you told him your age, you were at university, you and him respected each others’ private life so not much info were exchanged other than nice conversation about art, literature and murder. Later you said your good nights and you turned off your laptop and went to bed straight, you had morning classes.
It was snowing, you had dark circles under your eyes but you made effort in your appearance, you wore a nice winter dress with long boots, hair tied and a light make up to cover the tiredness. In the mean time Doctor Hannibal Lecter was on his office, getting ready for his patient. He was facing his laptop’s screen, on the screen he had information you, thanks to his work with the FBI he had privileged access to get peoples info. He learned your address, university, your Instagram, everything. He decided to message you again.
You were at the cafeteria, eating and looking at your notes when you got a notification, the stranger you had a nice conversation with last night messaged you again. ‘’I apologies for keeping you up so late last night, I hope you had some sleep, good morning.’’
You couldn’t help but smile, he was formal yet you could sense some kind of kindness and concern.
‘’Hey, no need to apologies. I enjoyed our conversation last night. Morning!’’
For days you messaged back and forth, everyday without being to open, he told you his day, and you told him about your day, over the days you learned his habits, he was an early bird, loved to read and keep his mind busy, he also mentioned the dinner parties he throws every once in a while. You were intrigued, but kept your cool.
After a month you were having mental problems, your assignments were too much and you had some problems from your past, ever since you mentioned your problems he was being more kinder than usual, he was giving you affirmations such as;
‘’You are a smart girl, you can do it.’’
‘’I believe in your abilities.’’
You liked the way he talked to you. Neither of you asked for a phone number or even an email address which felt safe.
One day he suggested that you should see a psychiatrist, since he had access to your university he could see your grades and they were dropping and he didn’t like that. He wanted you to succeed.
He sent you a list of psychiatrists and made some recommendations, you were falling into his trap and he was enjoying it, he wanted to see you and this was the opportunity. You said you would think about it and in order to give you some time he said it was okay.
When you had a melt down while studying you decided to think about Botticelli’s list of psychiatrist and you sent a mail to the Doctor writing that you needed an urgent session, thankfully Doctor Lecter replied quickly, you were too busy to notice how odd it was to reply to you in a minute. He wrote that tomorrow at 6 would be convenient for him, it was convenient for you too because your classes end at 5 pm. Of course he knew that and you would be his last patient of the day.
After your classes you got on the bus and went to the Doctor’s office. You clung to your long coat and walked into the building, the warmth welcomed you, there was a desk but no secretary was in the view, you knocked on the grey door and waited, your heart beating at a rapid speed.
A tall man opened the door, his three piece suit made him look intimidating, he was standing proud and tall.
‘’Miss Y/L/N I presume?’’ he questioned, his maroon eyes scanning you, he was really good at hiding his excitement, there you were, the woman he had been messaging over a month was standing right before him. ‘’Dr. Lecter, it’s a pleasure to meet you.’’ You extended your hand and he gladly took it, he noticed how soft your hands were, there was a certain feeling in his chest, ‘’Please come in.’’
His office was grand, the fire place was lit which gave the room a cozy feeling and yet it resembled the museum, formal. You sat on the leather armchair and he sat opposite with his leather notebook and silver pen. He started the conversation, as he was speaking he made notes of her manners and behavior, you had a simple jeans and a black top, even though your outfit was normal Hannibal found you elegant like a swan.
During your session you had a feeling as if you have met him before, he was kind but his voice and his demeanor made you think before you speak, thankfully he made you comfortable by talking art and literature, his replies sounded familiar, you thought as if you were talking to your new online friend.
‘’Dr. Lecter, I must say I’m here because one of my friends recommended you to me.’’ You confessed, ‘’Oh, did your friend ever came to me before for a session?’’ he asked looking curious as if he wasn’t about to reveal himself to you.
‘’No, I mean I’m not sure, he is an online friend so..’’ you replied shortly, looking around.
‘’Oh really, Hekate?’’
You froze, did he just addressed you by your username on Tattle Crime?
‘’I-I’m sorry..?’’ you stuttered, you must have heard it wrong.
He placed the notebook and pen on the nearby table and stood up, fixing his clothes he came up to you, you had to look up, he extended his hand to you, ‘’Botticelli,’’ he said, ‘’Nice to finally meet you in person, I must say, I didn’t expect such a beauty, your intellect matches your divine face.’’
Your first reaction was to get up and run to the door, it was locked.
You turned to face him, his hands in his pockets, he was smiling ear to ear, ‘’You wound me Hekate, I thought you liked me.’’ he started to walk to you, your back pressed to the locked door, he stood before you, one of his hands found your heated cheek, with the back of his hand he caressed it gently, ‘’Do not be afraid, all I want is for you to be mine.’’