Winners
Something different. This is a short story I’ve written. Erotic on one level, a thriller on another. Dark perhaps. Fiction. I hope you…
Something different. This is a short story I’ve written. Erotic on one level, a thriller on another. Dark perhaps. Fiction. I hope you enjoy.
1
Prologue
It was wrong. He knew that. But the desire, the compulsion within, proved overwhelming. He dreaded what would happen to him when caught. He was enough of a realist to accept it was when, not if, he was caught.
Each outing he planned meticulously. He studied all he could on forensics and detection science. That’s why he accepted it was when, not if.
Not that it altered anything. He only felt truly alive when he was active. Hunting. Searching for a Winner. Prowling the streets for a new beneficiary of his attention, his prize.
He’d read books about his disorder too. He understood the obsession. He realised if he put his mind to it, if he requested help, if he was prepared to take medication, he might control it. But why would he want to? Why, when the only time his life had a purpose was when he sought a fresh Winner?
2
How long had he been doing this now? Six years, he thought. Difficult to be precise. It had been a slow escalation to this. The final goal.
He had started slowly, without realising it was the beginning of a journey that would take him to such heights. Where, he had asked himself, was the harm in being a voyeur, of peeping into bedrooms, of sneaking glances up women’s skirts? If they didn’t know he was there or looking, how could they be upset? Perhaps he was right, but with the next stage of his descent his subjects became well aware. He’d break into their homes. Creep into their bedrooms and masturbate over their sleeping forms. Sometimes they didn’t wake. He wondered about their reaction in the morning, when they found dried semen on their faces, or their nightdress, or on two glorious occasions, on their breasts when they slept nude.
The satisfaction was greatest when they woke up though. When they received their prize wide-eyed and in fear.
Their fear. Their panic. Their shouts as they saw his form. Hovering over them. Penis in hand. Bringing himself to a climax. Their first scream prompted his juices to spray over them. Ideally, he would have stayed, to take his desires further, but in those early days, he feared it might lead to his capture. Not any more. Now the hold of his addiction on him outweighed any such concern.
He remembered that first time when he traveled the whole distance to his personal utopia. When he’d stayed. When he made her the first true Winner. Giving her the ultimate prize. When he’d secured her wrists to the headboard and stuffed her mouth before she fully woke up.
When he’d seen the fear in her eyes as he’d finished restraining her. When he forced her legs apart, tied them with a rope under the bed. When he’d undressed totally. Putting his clothes into a plastic bag. Putting on the surgical gloves. Admiring his own engorged cock. When he’d used a knife to slash through her pyjamas to reveal the breasts he had been admiring for weeks while he planned. When he’d slashed her pyjama trousers. He’d fantasised about seeing her naked. Natural or shaved? He didn’t care. He worried about leaving more traces of himself if she was natural but the sight of the triangle of hair propelled his sexual desire further. Her pubic hair colour matching her head.
She’d stopped struggling. She’d starred at him. Abject fear. None of the extensive reading he’d undertaken fully conveyed the intensity that look had on his desire.
His penis became hard. Granite. His need greater than ever. He had to do it. It didn’t take long. He was too excited to hold back. He kept his head though. He’d used a condom in case he erupted in her. He didn’t; he withdrew just in time, pulled the condom off, and let his semen find its target. He held his cock close to her breasts. He didn’t want his semen soaking her bedding.
After he came, he took photographs, then he found the kitchen, filled a bowl with warm water, found the kitchen roll, and returned to the bedroom. He meticulously cleaned her. He removed every drop of his bodily fluid. He carefully put the used paper towel into another plastic bag. He returned the bowl to the kitchen rinsing it out with bleach. Just in case. He returned to the bedroom.
He didn’t want to leave her secured but in all his planning he’d failed to think of a way of releasing her that had no risk. She might attack him. Successfully or not there was the danger she would mark him, claw some DNA from him which he had so carefully spent the last thirty minutes removing.
No, he’d leave her like that. When he was well away, he’d telephone the emergency services. Ask for an ambulance. The more people that accessed her room before the police forensic team the more chance of contaminating any evidence left. If there was any. Which he doubted.
That was the first. How many since? That first, the first where he went the whole way, was two years ago. The date imprinted indelibly on his mind. Since then, a dozen he thought. An average of one every two months. But that didn’t reflect the true timescale. The period between each Winner shortened. He knew it would. All the books said it would. He needed it. With increasing frequency. He was now close to what he considered the shortest safe duration between winners. He needed time for preparation. Time to plan, time to follow, time to scout the area, time to ‘case the joint’.
He now had a dilemma. He desperately needed his Winners more frequently, but dare he cut his preparations short? He would need to contain himself. He daren’t be ill-prepared. It’s what had enabled him to do this so many times without getting caught.
He recalled the one time he’d almost suffered that ignominy. He’d done his usual preparations. Everything seemed perfect. The Winner certainly was. A woman in her late thirties, tall, elegant, a perfect bust. Living alone following her divorce. A ground-floor flat in an old house. Easy access, no visible burglar alarms. There rarely were in multiple occupancy houses.
Early in the week was best. Her routine hadn’t varied on a Monday or Tuesday in the four weeks he’d been following her. Her lights were usually out by eleven. He waited his usual two hours for sleep to come to her.
The bay window presented no problem. A knife between the two units to slide the catch. He applied the grease he had taken with him to reduce the friction and noise. He was thin so didn’t need the window to open far. He’d been in the same way last week when he knew she was out. He’d learnt the layout ready for tonight. He took only one item then. The only thing he disturbed was her lingerie drawer. It had become a habit. Every Winner’s house he entered he took a trophy before the event. Usually a pair of knickers. Sometimes a bra. Usually, there was nothing else to choose from. He smiled remembering Winner number six. A gold strike. A drawer full of stockings and suspenders. He wanted to take those although it concerned him the loss might puzzle her. That’s why it was usually knickers. He felt they were easier to misplace. Unlikely to raise concerns if they were lost.
This Winner provided him with pink bikini knickers with lace trim. He’d slept that night with them wrapped around his member.
He moved silently into her bedroom. The door was not closed, so no risk of waking her on opening it.
He gently withdrew the cable ties he used to secure their wrists. He reached forward to grasp her hand. This was the most exciting and dangerous moment. He needed to be calm and keep his movements slow so she didn’t wake while he secured her. He’d been successful on every previous occasion. Perhaps it had made him blasé. Her hand was halfway to the headboard when she stirred, turned in her bed and the action put pressure on her arm. It woke her up. She turned and looked at him. The scream was loud and echoed around the room. It was bound to wake the other residents. He didn’t know if she locked her door to the communal passage. He had no intention of waiting to find out. He dropped her wrist leaving the cable tie around it and left the way he had entered. Over the garden fence and away down the alley between the houses. The street was deserted, but he ran for two blocks then removed the mask and continued at a leisurely pace so as not to arouse suspicion. He tossed the mask over a hedge followed by the other cable ties and rope over different hedges. There was now nothing suspicious on him. A quarter of a mile away he recovered his bicycle and began the five mile ride home. He never took his car. Far too many CCTV cameras lurked around the city. He suspected police manpower shortages would benefit him, but he wasn’t about to risk his number plate being recorded.
A near miss, but lying in bed, fingering her knickers he discovered the adrenaline rush had been a partial substitute.
He recalled that incident as he tried to decide on whether to cut down on his planning to increase the frequency of his conquests.
For now, he would remain vigilant and maintain his scrupulous preparations.
Now there was a new Winner in mind. He’d seen her yesterday when he was having coffee in a nondescript chain store.
She reminded him of the one that got away. Around forty. Elegant. Tall. Well dressed. Good bust. Shoulder length hair. Brunette. No wedding ring.
She came in the shop after him so he took his time over his own coffee and followed her when she left.
She appeared to be on a shopping expedition. Perfect. Easy to follow and plenty of time to observe and soak up the details of the body to whom he would donate his next prize.
He tracked her for the rest of the afternoon. She visited various shops and her purchases grew. He feared he would have a wasted afternoon if she made for the car park but her destination was the rail station. She didn’t go near the ticket machines so already possessed a ticket. He watched as she viewed the departure board. He carefully noted the changes and watched as she rose from the bench and headed for a platform. He hurried to the ticket machine and purchased a ticket to the train’s final destination. He boarded the train a carriage away from her. He would work his way up the train and choose a seat some distance from her, but where he could continue to admire his next Winner. He could imagine giving her the reward for winning, he could feel his cock entering her love hole.
Four stations down the line. She gathered her bags and made for the exit. He rose and used a different door. On disembarking he started to follow again. He was about two hundred yards behind her. Ideal. A sudden panic. Perhaps her car was in the station car park? Surely he wouldn’t lose this perfect Winner now. Luck was still with him. She exited the station and set off down a suburban road. It was getting dark. This suited him well, less chance of being spotted even though he needed to close in on her to ensure he didn’t lose her.
A fifteen-minute walk and she opened the gate to a small Victorian cottage. No lights on. Positive. Suggesting no one else living there. At least not home yet. He made a mental note of the number and looked around for an unobtrusive spot to continue his surveillance. He’d allow two hours to see if anyone else returned, then go home and come back early tomorrow to start his reconnaissance properly.
It looked as though she lived alone as no one approached the house in the two hours he remained to watch. Cold and hungry he caught the train back to the city and then made his way home.
She was perfect. Of all the Winners he has bestowed prizes on so far she met his criteria to perfection. He needed to plan with meticulous care. This, he decided, would be the winner he would reward more than once. It would mean staying with her as long as necessary to reward her fully. An added risk, but with such a prize one worth taking.
So it was that he was back before seven the next morning. His car (too far to cycle) parked in the station car park. Like hiding a tree in a forest. The alley was another bonus. Very secluded with no foot passage so far. The gods were with him he was sure. So much falling into place.
She left the house just after eight. Immaculately dressed again. Just seeing her like that gave him an erection. He desperately needed to complete his planning as quickly as possible. He wouldn’t follow her today. There was no point if he failed to gain access to the house. That was always his first requirement. To make sure he could get in.
He left it for a half hour to avoid the possibility of her returning having forgotten something.
The street was empty as he crossed. Her cottage was a mid-terrace, so he walked to the end of the street and down a side road. All the cottages appeared to have small courtyards at the back. All individually fenced. Not good. He had to cross five gardens to get to his Winner. The chances of him being spotted were too high. Before he gave up he would check the other end of the terrace in case the layout was different. Lady Luck continued to smile on him. From this end, there was an alleyway down between the gardens of the cottages although it stopped before it reached the other end. It was how the local council collected the refuse.
He walked down the narrow track counting off the houses. There was a gate into her garden secured by a Yale lock. He did not understand why people used them. They were so easy to overcome. He was in her yard in seconds and quickly against her back door. No neighbour could see him now. He carefully scanned the property for alarms. Nothing. There may be one but even if he triggered it, he was confident he would be out before the police were anywhere near him. This ingress served the additional purpose of finding out if there was an alarm as he’d wait and see from across the road if it triggered a police response.
The back door was secured with a mortise lock, the windows with internal locks. Not the easiest of houses he’d tried to enter, but the prize made the extra effort worthwhile. His research on the internet had taught him how to pick locks and he’d acquired a set of picks and practiced for hours on his own doors. This one presented no great challenge. He was in. The door opened into a small kitchen/diner and a door from there led to a small pokey hallway with stairs to the first floor. If he had time he’d check out the lounge, but his main purpose was to find the route to her bedroom. Difficult to miss as, apart from the bathroom, it was the only room upstairs. He opened the door. A large double bed with wooden head and foot boards with posts. A poor modern imitation of a fourposter. He wondered if he was dreaming. All aspects of the Winner were as he would have written it in a script. It was meant to be. He paused for an instant. Why the double bed? She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Not that that meant much these days. Perhaps she had a boyfriend. Or enjoyed the space. He checked the wardrobe for signs of a male’s presence. Nothing. Relief. Just women’s clothes.
Just one thing to do before he left. He opened a drawer in the unit. Hairbrushes, lipstick, hairspray and assorted bits and pieces. He opened the next drawer. He stared at the contents. His blood rushed to engorge his cock. He’d found her lingerie drawer.
Like her outer clothes they were sophisticated and sexy. Choosing what to take was a dilemma. The drawer contained all the underwear he yearned to touch. Bras, knickers, stockings, suspenders. Oh, my. Impossible to resist. He unzipped himself and wrapped a pair of red knickers around his solid cock. He wanked himself. Eyes closed imagining her being there. With a superhuman effort he stopped himself. He mustn’t come here although he would so have loved to have come into her drawer. Imagine the look on her face seeing someone had violated her most private garments. The thought would not go away. Should he do it? What were the downsides? He’d be leaving his DNA. But then it would be over a week before he came to give her her real prize. Surely she’d wash them all before then? Would the police be interested? Would she even report it? It would mean she’d have to let the detectives see and handle her intimate underwear. So no real risk there. Would it put her on her guard? Nothing stolen but someone in her house. Would she increase her security? Perhaps put bolts in the door? Yes. More than likely. He wouldn’t do it now. He’d save it for his next visit. He’d allow her to watch him spray his prize over her lingerie. Yes. His penis told him that was the right thing to do. He put the red knickers in his pocket, checked everything else was as it had been and left. The first part of his plan completed.
He waited the rest of the day keeping a low profile. Waiting to watch her return. She was on the same train as yesterday. A pattern. Good news. She spent the evening alone again, and the lights switched off at much the same time as the previous night. His excitement levels rose. Everything looked perfect. His cock was bursting to give this winner her prize.
If nothing else he liked to think he was thorough, so he repeated the surveillance for the rest of the week. Identical. The only puzzling point was why such a good-looking woman appeared to have no social life. For him though that was a positive. Less chance of her routine being varied.
He decided he would present his prize to the Winner on Monday night. His surveillance had been shorter than usual, but his libido was urging him on. Her lack of variation in habits convinced him there would be no problem.
The day to present his prizes had arrived. He’d had the house under surveillance from an hour before she came home. He was certain there was no one there other than the Winner. When he’d seen her come down the street, he put his hand down his trousers. The anticipation was making him tremble. He expected spending several hours in her company compared to his flying visits to previous winners.
The lights didn’t go out at the usual time. The first time a change in routine in all the nights he’d watched. Why? Perhaps she was watching a special programme or was completing some work. Should he abort his plans? He waited a while longer. The lights were extinguished an hour later than usual. He decided there was no cause for alarm. He would still wait his standard two hours for her to drift into a deep sleep.
He entered the house as before. No problems. Remembering his last visit he wondered if she had missed her red knickers.
He entered the bedroom. She was sound asleep. Her head rested on one arm and the other was curled above her head. Perfect. He would have to move it very little to secure it to the headboard. After his near mishap he was exceedingly careful. Once one wrist was secured the power to control events was in his hands.
She didn’t wake up as he secured the cable tie. The other arm was more problematical being under her head. He left it. He would secure her legs and gag her first.
She was a deep sleeper. He’d put his hands under the duvet to put a cable tie around an ankle and still no reaction. He moved silently to the other side of the bed and repeated the action. He’d never got this far before without awakening the Winner.
He knew she would stir when he pulled her other arm from under her head so he readied himself for the scream. It didn’t come. She still slept. Amazing. He feasted his eyes on her body. She was wearing a tee shirt. He decided he wanted her awake. He prepared the rag to push into her mouth when she opened it to scream. His other hand fondled a breast. His penis could get no harder. It was fighting to free itself from the confines of his trousers. As soon as he had the gag in he would strip naked to let her admire the gift she was about to get.
He squeezed her breast harder. Her eyes opened. At first not comprehending what they were seeing. An instant later she did. Her eyes and her mouth both opened to their extremities. He pushed the rag in before a sound emitted. She thrashed wildly against the cable ties. His excitement mounted although he thought he was already at the pinnacle of desire. He stepped back, throwing the bedclothes on the floor. He stripped and stuffed his clothes into the plastic bag. Her thrashing subsided. She quickly realised the futility of struggling and would be finding the ties painful.
Her eyes came to rest on his cock which he was gently masturbating.
He approached her and repeated his groping of her tits. They were perfect. Even lying on her back they formed mounds he could grab, still firm too.
He would give her three awards. He’d practiced at home. Just using her red knickers and photos as a stimulus. He knew he could present her with three awards in just under two hours. Probably with the extra stimulus of the real her, it might be shorter. The one thing he hadn’t decided upon was in which order he would do things. Given the short recovery time the amount of semen he produced was smaller on each eruption. Where did he want the largest prize to go?
He cut off the tee shirt and the shorts she was wearing. Given for the first time in his outings he was prepared to remain at the scene for some time, he would indulge himself first by using his fingers on her before completing his decision.
He looked in her eyes as his fingers slowly penetrated her. The look was different to the other Winners. Not fear. Anger. Seething rage. It was obvious. She’d stopped wriggling. She did not try to avoid his fingers. It was not possible, but all the others had tried anyway.
She remained motionless. This was not how he wanted her. He needed her to squirm. To scream. To buck away from him. It was that which caused his cock to come alive.
He pushed a second finger in. Then a third. She was tight. No way could he get a fourth in. The loathing in her eyes was at last giving him the kick he needed. He decided. He would deposit the first of his three prizes inside her. He wouldn’t wear a condom. He knew the risks but decided this unresponsive Winner needed to understand his needs. Perhaps he would stay longer. Violate her more times than originally planned. That thought brought the excitement back.
He climbed between her legs. He guided his solid cock to the edge of her love nest. He looked into her eyes. Saw the repugnance there. He smiled and pushed fully in. Oh, the supreme joy. One thrust. A grunt from her. Good. A second thrust. A third. Her eyes opened wide. He began a rhythmic thrusting.
This was heaven, he thought.
He had no inkling he was about to find out if that thought were true.
The blow shattered his skull driving fragments of bone into his brain. His death was instantaneous.
3
Epilogue
Sally missed her long time partner Julie. Whenever Julie was away playing hockey for her country Sally retreated into herself. She lived for the times they were together. They had lived in this cottage as a couple for eight years and the periods of separation got harder, not easier.
Sally tried to cheer herself up by some retail therapy but it didn’t work. She would do what she always did. A simple routine of work, then home, then read, then sleep. She didn’t want or need other people in her life.
Tonight Julie was due back. She knew she would be late but Sally determined to wait up, but then a text. Julie’s flight had been delayed. She wouldn’t be home until very late. Or very early, depending on how you viewed it.
Sally went to bed. She slept soundly knowing the love of her life would be back in a few hours.
When that creature woke her in her bedroom she feared for her life. His attention was revolting. She could imagine what he planned. It would be the first man to ever enter her. Repugnant on two levels. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting him see her fear.
His fingers entering her made her want to vomit. She had no idea how she would cope when the inevitable happened. She prepared herself and stared at him with loathing. He’d begun his invasion when Sally saw her bedroom door slowly open. Julie, not wanting to wake her partner, had entered the house quietly. She took in the scene as if born to it. Quietly putting her bags on the floor she extracted a hockey stick.
The police were extremely sympathetic. It didn’t take them long to ascertain that the intruder was the one responsible for up to a dozen similar attacks. Nevertheless given that Julie had killed him they would need to charge her.
The court case attracted huge media attention and nothing but sympathy for the pair of them. The jury took only thirty minutes to acquit her.
I hope you enjoyed the story. I have also written a full-length erotic tale — Dark Stranger — The first chapter is here if you would like to read it. Alternatively, if you’d like to buy me a coffee just click below! XX
