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Maybe Tyler will wear it for me, I thought. Right, Tyler. The guy I’d been hooking up with for almost a year now. I’d nearly forgotten about him.
A girl he’d slept with had sent him a screenshot from one of my videos, and I’d be laughing if not for the fear of discovery and the adrenaline roaring through my veins.
Like making thirst traps for all the other mask enthusiasts out there.
Aly not only had a mask kink, but she’d liked one of my videos enough to leave the comment, “Sir, I’m at work. How dare you?”
“This man is always coming onto my FYP and never on me, and that is a tragedy,” was probably my new favorite quote of all time.
Oh, so carefully, I placed the tip of the knife beneath her chin and tilted her face up as I unzipped my fly and let my dick spring free.
I’d get sent to jail for the rest of my life for this stupid shit. All because I wanted to fuck a pretty girl while wearing a mask.
I was still half afraid this would end in disaster, but the sheer thrill of doing something so dangerous and illegal was more exhilarating than anything I’d ever experienced, including skydiving. Was this what it had been like for my dad? Did this same thrill drive him on as much as his more sadistic desires? I shook my head and straightened. I could wonder about that shit later. Right now, I needed to get inside.
A cat. Aly had a cat. We eyed each other in the darkness. It was pretty runty despite the long black and white hair. If push came to shove, I could take it. “Don’t fuck with me,” I warned.
I’d never had a pet. Serial killers were well known for getting their start on small animals, and I didn’t want the temptation in case I was more like Dad than I realized. I worried that if I adopted one, I either wouldn’t feel anything for it – meaning none of the protective instincts or cute aggression most pet owners seemed overwhelmed with – or I’d have all my greatest fears confirmed and take one look it and think “prey”.
This small fluffy creature would be so easy to kill, yet I had no desire to harm it. That had to be a good sign, right?
So far, I’d learned two crucial things about myself this week: I didn’t want to hurt Aly or her cat. Maybe I wasn’t a psychopath after all.
Most sociopaths were capable of caring for a few select people. They were their rare exceptions, developing intense love and devotion for them while feeling absolutely nothing for anyone else. I cared about my mom, stepdad, and Tyler. They were my people, and I barely thought of others. But was that because of a personality disorder or because they were the only ones who had earned my trust?
It was time to find out just how serious Aly was about wanting to walk into her house and find a masked man waiting for her in the darkness.
Why me? And why now? And why was I so fucking turned on by it when I knew I should run screaming from my house instead?
Wow, okay. This knee-jerk rage was new. And probably not a good thing. I’d have to keep an eye on it. I might not want to hurt Aly or her cat, but the thought of another guy in there with her had sent me straight to kill-him-with-knives.
Okay, so I didn’t want to hurt her, but I did want to scare her. Potentially troubling but far from the worst-case scenario.
technically, she’d stalked me first. Or she’d tried to if the search history I’d discovered when I hacked into her laptop was anything to go by. How do I find someone from social media? Who is the faceless man from TikTok? The faceless man’s other social media accounts. Is there AI software to find people based on their tattoos? See? She’d started it. And yes, I was aware that argument wouldn’t hold up in a court of law, but this was the hill I chose to die on –
Jesus Christ. I knew I should have argued with my therapist when she said it was time to wean me off the anti-psychotics.
This might sound completely insane, but did you break into my house tonight, film a video in my bedroom, and leave a mask behind? Fuck. How did I respond? If I said yes, it could eventually get held against me in a court of
There was the one of waking her up in the middle of the night with a knife to her throat, but instead of turning the blade on her, I slid the handle between her legs and used it to edge her to the brink of insanity, teasing her but never giving her what she wanted despite how much she begged and sobbed for release. Or the one where I kidnapped her in the hospital parking garage, drove her into the middle of the woods, and told her to run as far as she could because what I planned to do when I caught her would make even the Devil weep.
Aly drop her phone on the comforter and place her head in her hands. “I need so much more therapy than I’m currently getting.” I grinned, because same.
I realized what this expression was: lust. Aly was fucked up too. Hallelujah.
No. This was wrong. I wasn’t going to watch Aly pleasure herself to a video I’d sent her. And I definitely wasn’t snaking a hand into my shorts and choking the base of my dick. Stop that. Bad hand. We’re not doing this.
I was already becoming unhealthily obsessed with Aly.
I honestly thought my obsession was just a phase. That I was all talk, and my recently awakened kink was purely driven by the overwhelming abundance of masked men on my social media feed. I was convinced that a new trend would gain traction online, and I’d be into bondage by the end of the month instead. Silly me. I knew better now. This wasn’t just a passing fancy for me. It was my ride-or-die fantasy, and the fact that I might be living it out made me feel more alive than anything else had in months.
Give him the most toe-curling, leg-shaking, dick-throbbing, sheet-gripping, soul-sucking, ball-draining head of his life.
This wasn’t good. A man had broken into my house, and instead of calling the cops, I’d masturbated on top of whatever evidence might remain. No way could I call them now. How the hell would I explain myself? “And why didn’t you call us immediately?” they would ask. “Sorry, officer. I was too busy diddling myself instead.”
And also? I’d asked for this. I wasn’t victim-blaming myself; I had literally begged for it to happen.
Josh taught me better. Because he was huge, at least 6’4”, and though he’d been wearing baggy gym pants and a sweatshirt the morning I bumped into him in their kitchen, there was no hiding the fact that the man was yoked. I’d only caught a glance at his profile – strong jaw, aquiline nose, the kind of thick, long lashes most women would kill for – but that one glimpse was enough to tell me Josh had heartbreaker-level good looks. He must have had Mediterranean blood in him because his skin had some olive in it, and his hair was just as dark as mine.
Aly was Googling what information a hacker needed to find someone for her. This could be a problem. I watched her through her laptop camera as she read the article,
I was starting to feel more confident than I had in a long time that I wasn’t going to snap one day and turn into my father. Bro, you are literally stalking Aly right now, I reminded myself. Yeah, there was that.
Can someone watch me through my laptop camera? Uh-oh. Her eyes flashed wide as she read the results, then jerked to the top of the screen, looking straight at me. “Hello, gorgeous,” I said, wishing she could hear me so I could watch the blood drain from her face in fear.
She leaned in again and sent me a wink through the camera that had me gripping the base of my dick so hard it almost hurt. “See you soon,” she threatened before lifting the tape. Sooner than you think, baby,
Did you send me something? Several somethings, but she’d figure that out soon enough. It better not be a bomb, or I’m coming back as a poltergeist and finding some way to ghost-murder you. I grinned. Aly was just as snarky as her thirsty comments made her out to be, and I was here for it.
You sent me home defense tools? After breaking into my house? Are you serious right now??? Keep going, I wanted to tell her.
Watching her had been fun and was fulfilling a surveillance kink I didn’t even know I had until now, but it’d be even more fun if Aly decided she wanted to be watched.
I know you’re reading these messages, you bastard. I can see the read receipts. Before I could stop myself, I sent her a kissy-face emoji. One day, I would learn to stop being such a smartass, but today was not that day.
She choked on another laugh. “Goddamn it. That’s it. I’m turning off my computer.” I sent a crying face emoji. “You’re not funny,” she said. Then why do you keep laughing? “I am not laughing. Not really.”
If I’m the cat, what does that make you? I asked. The mouse? “I’m a mother fucking wolf,” Aly said, and then her computer cut off as she killed the power.
One showed a tubby little raccoon ambling past my back door, and I saved it to my photos to rewatch it later because even though I knew they were wild animals and carriers of the rabies virus, every time I saw a trash panda, I wanted to pick it up and smoosh it.
mask kink. How often had I dreamt about putting that muscular body through its paces? I wanted his fingers wrapped around my neck while he fucked me so I could stare at the veins popping out along his forearms as he held me in place. I wanted him behind me, my hands gripping a headboard while he pressed a knife to my throat and told me not to move.
Another notification popped up. User the.faceless.man has started following you. I nearly dropped my phone. No, he didn’t. Another chime came through. Someone, not him, had responded to my comment. UM, MA’AM, HE LIKED YOUR COMMENT??? Someone else wrote, OMG, SHE IS THE ONLY PERSON HE FOLLOWS.
Are you watching me right now? Maaaybe, he said, followed by a wink emoji.
You are breaking so many laws, I wrote back. And you don’t even know the half of what I’m up to, he replied. Listen, you, UGH, I don’t even know what to call you! How about boo? he wrote back. You know, because of the – this was followed by three little ghost emojis meant to represent his mask.
I have no regrets about publicly claiming you. Claiming me? Oh, god. No, vagina, do not quiver at that. Damn it. Not you, too, ovaries.
No. No fucking way. Without warning, they turned, and I jumped back, hitting the car behind me. The Faceless Man stared out of my window.
I thought I’d give you a ride home. The weather is shit, and you must be exhausted. It’s not safe for you to drive right now. I glared daggers at him and twirled a finger, indicating he should roll the window down. He turned away to type again. Don’t mace me. “You are in no position to give me orders,”
Maybe it was that I’d met a lot of bad men in my line of work. Murderers, rapists, gang members, drug dealers, burglars, pedophiles, you name it. My gut instincts had been honed over the years, and I had developed almost a sixth sense for recognizing danger. Those instincts were silent right now.
I’d waded into darkness, and now I was swan-diving into the deep end. I was a sex-craved, sleep-deprived woman more interested in a kinky fuck than safety and comfort. It was oddly freeing to admit that.
