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Then he calls out. The words from the proposal.
“Here, kitty kitty. Where are you?”
He’s in the kitchen. I see a flashlight roving around the room through the open door.
“Where are you, bitch?” he says, and I flinch as I hear him kick the fallen bin.
I repeat my safe word in my head. Flag, flag, flag. I can use it if I want to, and right now, I’m on the edge. Because this doesn’t feel like a game anymore. It feels like I’m in a horror movie. He sounds like a sick fuck, laughing as he calls out to me again. Here, kitty kitty.
I hold my breath, knowing he’ll come into the dining room, but he doesn’t. The flashlight disappears and he’s off again. So, I take my chance. I have to.
I crawl out from under the table, and scuff my way back through the kitchen on my sore knees. He’s in the living room. I can see the flashlight through the doorway as it darts around.
I know my way around enough by now to haul myself to my feet, and sneak down the hallway right past him. I take hold of the banister rail, and creep upstairs, but when I get to the next floor, I keep on going. Another flight, and I tiptoe down another hallway, with doors on either side. I pick the one at the end, grateful again for the scrap of moonlight through the windows.
Another bedroom, but this one has a high bedframe, and I can just about crawl under it. That’s where I stay. Prickling, panting, tingling. Alive.
I don’t need to use my safe word. I don’t. I hold it in. I won’t break. No matter how fucked up it feels.
I roll onto my back and stay as still as I can, listening out for his voice as he plays this sick game to its fullest.
Here, kitty kitty. You know I’m going to find you.
Yes, he is.
I urge my body to calm the fuck down. I deep breathe, letting the air out slowly, and call on my need for submission. The craving that always drives me wild.
Here, kitty kitty.
He’s getting closer. His voice is getting louder.
I hear him heading into rooms along the hallway, but he’s playing. I know I’ve left this one open. Did I do that on purpose? Fuck!
Here, kitty kitty.
I remember how fucking big he is, so dangerous looking in his ski mask. I remember the way he manhandled me before, so fucking rough but so fucking hot.
Hot and scary.
Petrifying.
But hell… the feeling begins to take over me. Slut vs scared little girl, running away from him…
I know which one I’d rather be.
It’s time to be a slut now. Fuck it. Time to please him. Time to be Holly, the dirtiest little bitch I can be.
I spread my legs as his footfalls get ever louder, circling my clit just a touch. He’s checking in every room with his flashlight. I catch glimpses of the beam, and think of his cock, hard in his pants as he hunts me.
Here, kitty kitty.
I’m wet, even though I’m petrified.
But I want to be petrified… this is the game.
I’m still playing with my clit when his boots thump into the room. The flashlight zips around as he walks, and he knows where I am, I can feel it.
“You coming out, like a good bitch?” he asks, and kicks the bottom bedpost, but I don’t move. I flinch as he kicks it again. “Come on, slut. Come out and fucking take it.”
