The package came via courier, in plain brown paper and without a return address. It was left on Nikki’s desk during her coffee break, so she didn’t even see what courier company it had come by.
She opened it with trepidation. Inside, there was a floral print sundress, a white cotton brassiere, a pair of pantyhose, a pair of flats, and a typed note: "Meet me in the park, by the oak tree near the bench, at noon. Wear what’s in this package and nothing else."
She turned the note over in her hand, but the other side was blank. She looked through the clothing for another note, or any other identifiers, but couldn’t find any. She looked back at the wrapping, confirming that that was her name on the outside.
She bit her lip, holding the dress up against the wall of her cubicle. It was pretty, though not the sort of thing she’d normally wear. In fact, it clashed with the beige pantsuit she was wearing.
Shrugging, Nikki carefully folded the dress up and set it back on top of the underwear and shoes, and moved the entire pile to the top of her filing cabinet. Clearly there had been a mistake, but throwing new clothes away outright didn’t seem right.
She looked at the clock. 10:37. She cocked her head at the clothing, curious, then sat back down at her desk and went back to work.
The phone rang fifteen minutes later. She picked it up, answering automatically. "Nikki Jones. What’s up?"
A husky male voice she didn’t recognize spoke. "Did you get the package?"
Nikki sat forward, looking nervously at the sundress. "Who is this?"
"You got it, didn’t you?" The voice sounded tense, but assertive.
She sat quiet, holding the phone and listening to his breathing. "Yes," she said at last. "I got it. What’s this all about?"
The voice rumbled out a chuckle. "Meet me in the park and you’ll find out."
"Look," she said, leaning back to try to regain her confidence, "there must be some mistake."
"There’s no mistake, Nikki." The voice was deep and seductive. "Just remember, be there or you’ll never know. Noon sharp. I won’t wait a moment longer."
"Who is this?" she asked again.
"Noon," the voice repeated. "Sharp."
The phone clicked as he hung it up.
She set the handset down and looked at the clock. 10:51. She eyed the sundress, and then turned back to her work.
Time passed, though, and she caught herself transfixed on the package on top of the filing cabinet. It stared down at her, inanimate and innocuous. Her breathing was rapid, and she noticed a dampness between her thighs.
She shook her head, and looked at the clock again. 11:17. The secondhand swung mercilessly, and her eyes watered as she turned her attention back to the dress.
"Oh, this is bullshit," she told herself angrily, focussing back on her desk. She stood and made her way to the bathroom, her bladder aching. She noticed that her clit had started to throb, too, but she ignored that.
When she came back, Nikki saw a small piece of paper on top of the Kramer report. Looking closer, she saw that it was a fortune cookie fortune that read: "Live in freedom or die in fear."
She sat heavily, her mouth dry. She leaned her head out of her cubicle, looking around to see if anyone was watching her, but her co-workers bustled around her obliviously.
She looked back at the fortune, her hands shaking. The clock told her it was 11:29.
Biting her nail nervously, she looked up at the dress. The park was a ten minute walk, plus an extra five to get through the lunch hour throng, and a few minutes to change. She had ten minutes to decide.
At some point, her hand had moved to her mound, and was idly massaging it. She lifted the hand away, annoyed with its treason.
The secondhand continued its march, the minute hand moving heavily as the secondhand passed the 12 and began another cycle.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on focusing. This was obscene, this was a sick game, and she refused to be a pawn.
But when Nikki opened her eyes again, she was standing, and her hand was on the dress, running her fingers over the fabric.
Cursing herself, she grabbed the package and made her way to the bathroom.
After changing, she folded the pantsuit up neatly and left it on top of the last commode, pulling the sundress down around her form and admiring herself in the mirror.
She admired herself in the mirror. She looked different this way, softer and more feminine. The outfit fit perfectly, of course, including the shoes, which were snug but not tight. Whoever this was, he knew her, and knew her well.
Thinking about that made her nipples harden. She noticed them; the white bra was garishly obvious behind the sheer fabric of the dress, and the nipples poked out at the thought of a stalker, watching her every move, knowing her shoe size and the fact that, deepdown, she really did prefer a red-and-pink floral print to a beige pantsuit, savoring the way the hem of the dress tickled her ankles as she moved.
Flushed, she shook her head to clear it, wondering how long she’d been standing in front of the mirror.
She left, the flats giving a bounce to her step as she slipped past the front desk to the elevator.
Nikki could feel the stares of the men on the elevator. She could feel their eyes on the bra straps, and she tensed her belly, trying not to reveal her heavy breathing.
The voice of reason spoke again: Why was she doing this? This could be a madman, laying in ambush to rape and kill her.
Any of the men on the elevator, their eyes piercing through her clothing, could be madmen. Any of them could be him.
She closed her eyes tightly. "Live in freedom or die in fear." The words echoed in her mind. She was free. She would not fear.
There were things she regretted in her life; opportunities that had passed by so wholly that she barely knew they had existed in the first place. The voice had been right, of course: If she went, she risked rape and death, but if she didn’t go, she’d never know. She would never know, and that would eat her up inside, until she was waking from nightmares of what could have been.
Nikki licked her dry lips again as the elevator doors opened on the lobby floor. She shot a glance at the lobby clock. 11:51. Just enough time to make it to the park.
The park was small, and there was only one place the man could have meant, an oak tree near a small stand of trees. She found it just as the clock on the bell tower swung its minute hand up to join the hour hand, the heavy mechanism shifting as it began the noontime chime.
She stood by the tree, looking around, but there was no one. The lunch rush was only just beginning, and people were still buying their lunch from the vendors or making their way to restaurants.
Nikki leaned against the tree, sighing. Had she been suckered? Was there some guy now, in one of those buildings, watching her through binoculars and laughing?
Her belly tensed again at the thought, and she slid her hand unconsciously back to her mound, pressing her tender clit gently and moaning.
"Don’t move," the voice behind the tree said.
She froze, her heart racing in her chest. She yearned to turn around, but the voice sounded firm and stern, and so she obeyed it.
"I’m glad you’re here," the voice said. "I’ve wanted you, and I knew you wanted me."
Nikki licked her lips again, her hand immobile on her clit. "Who are you?" she whispered.
She jumped, feeling something move across her throat. She moved forward just enough to feel the sharpness of the blade. She swallowed and leaned back again.
"Do not continue to mock me with your feigned ignorance," the voice said angrily. "You know who I am, otherwise you wouldn’t be here."
She shivered. "All right. I know who you are." She lied, her legs growing weak. She stood firm though, wary of the blade against her throat.
"Today, though, I am your Master. Call me Master, and I shall call you slave. Do you understand?"
She closed her eyes. "Yes."
The blade pressed against her flesh. "Yes, what?"
She whimpered. "Yes, Master."
The voice chuckled dryly, and the blade moved away a bit. "You learn fast, slave. I could tell you were smart. You are worthy of my love. Truly worthy."
Nikki bent her head down instinctively. "Thank You, Master."
"I have been watching you, slave. Long nights have I had to pleasure myself, waiting for the time that you could pleasure me. But now I know, as much as you pretended not to notice me, as much as you ignored me, that the lust was there in your heart as well."
Nikki closed her eyes and listened to the drone of his voice, trying to place it. Her heart beat hard, and her breathing came short, but she wasn’t sure if it was fear or lust. And then she realized it was both.
"I will have you, but not against your will," the voice rasped as the blade moved away. "You are free to go now, but only now. Return to your cubicle, and I will return to mine, and you will always wonder what it could have been like. But you want me. I know you do. You ache for me, you little slut, and even as your legs yearn to run, your sex yearns to be fucked by me."
As he spoke, Nikki dug her nails into the bark of the tree, her legs weak beneath her. The thoughts that raced through her mind were foreign to her, base and obscene, but he was right. She ached for him in every fiber of her being.
"Count to fifteen, slowly," the voice said gently. "And then meet me in the trees. Crawl to the trees and you will have me. Or leave, and live your mundane life without the one you truly need."
She sensed him moving away, and closed her eyes again, counting slowly.
On fifteen, she opened her eyes and looked around. The stand of trees looked empty, but it was dense and easy to hide in. She stepped towards it, looking self-consciously around. There were a few people in the park now, and a Rollerblader whizzed past her, snapping his fingers to the song on the Walkman.
She looked back at her office building, finding her window and staring at it.
And then Nikki fell to her hands and knees, the fabric of the dress tugging as she crawled across the sidewalk and into the trees. She tried not to notice the stares of the people who passed by her, including the one who stepped over her, dripping crumbs from a street vendor hot dog on her back.
When she was fully hidden by the trees, she stopped and listened. The voice spoke again: "Stand up, slave."
She did so, her head racing with second thoughts. She could run, there were people passing by… she could call out for help. But her voice and her legs stayed still.
A figure moved out from behind a tree. "Very good, slave." He smiled at her, and even now, Nikki flushed, failing to recognize the face. Some mailroom clerk, perhaps, or a summer intern?
She looked him over. He had a decent physique, solid but not muscular, with just a trace of paunch around his waist. He was wearing a suit, a standard issue navy businessman’s suit with a standard issue tie and a standard issue powder blue shirt. He was everyone. He was every single businessman who passed her every single day.
And she bit her lip as her belly tensed again, wanting to drop to her knees and suck his cock. She saw herself, her hands on a tree, getting ass-fucked by him, and she closed her eyes, trying to clear her thoughts.
"Do you fear me, slave?"
She nodded slowly, looking into his eyes.
"Do you ache for me, slave?"
She nodded again, even more slowly.
He stood up close to her then, the knife point holding up her chin. "I said, ‘Do you ache for me, slave?’"
She whimpered, feeling his breath on her face. "Yes, Master. I ache for you."
Nikki felt the blade of the knife move down to the fabric of the dress, snagging on it. She let out a soft moan, keeping her gaze on his eyes.
"Don’t move. I promise I won’t hurt you if you stay perfectly still. Do you understand?"
She nodded softly, feeling the cold point of the steel dancing across the fabric. "Yes, Master, I understand."
The knife moved in circles and patterns, tugging the fabric this way and that. "I’ve watched you. I know what you want. You pretend to be so strong, so secure, and yet what you really want is a strong man to take care of you. You pretend to be so innocent, and yet you lust for a strong man. Like me. Exactly like me."
She bit her lip hard, swallowing back the fear and the urge to run. Her nipples ached to be caressed; her sex dripped dampness. "Exactly like you, Master. Please, let me have you."
"What do you want? Tell me." He pulled the fabric taut and pressed the knife into it, tearing it.
Nikki’s heart jumped at the sensation, but she stayed firm. "I want you to take me, here, now. I want to feel you inside of me. I want you to… to fuck me until I scream for mercy." And she knew that she did want exactly that, fear and lust mingling in her soul.
He sliced down sharply, cutting from the collar of the dress to her belly. She could feel the dress gaping open, and blushed, imaging the soft bright white of the bra in the sunlight.
"Do you want to cum for me?" he asked, pressing the tip of the blade onto her mound.
She closed her eyes and thought of her cubicle, her beige pantsuit, the ticking of the clock, the lonely bed she slept in, the endless cycle of paychecks and bills, the nights spent with her fingers or a vibrator, crying out a half-hearted orgasm. And then she thought of him, and her, and the sunlight, and the businessmen wandering past just feet away, and she quivered, her legs buckling, but not enough before she regained her composure.
"Master, I want to cum for you, and I want to feel your cum inside of me."
He grinned, crouching down sharply as the blade sunk in, tearing the fabric of the sundress but just grazing her skin, down to her knees.
Holding the blade of the knife in his teeth, he tore the dress open, letting it fall off of her shoulders.
Nikki blushed, the breeze playing against the bare skin of her belly and arms. She held her head low, standing still with her arms at her sides despite her urges to kiss him, to tear his clothing off of him, to satisfy herself with him.
He stood up close to her again, his chest against her breasts, his nose touching hers, and she felt the tip of the blade pass under on of the bra straps, at her shoulder.
She whimpered, licking her lips and tensing her muscles.
"What will you think about when you masturbate in your bed tonight?" he whispered.
She bit her lip, feeling her breast being lifted up as he pulled the strap taut. "You, Master."
"What will you think about when you get coffee tomorrow morning?" he whispered, his voice gruff and deep in her ear.
A tear of fear and lust rolled down her cheek as she clenched her eyes closed. "You, Master."
He sawed the knife against the strap, and it frayed, then broke. He moved her hand to cup her breast, holding the loose fabric of the bra over it, and then moved her other hand to her other breast.
"And when you pee, and when you sleep, and when you eat, what will you think about?" He slid the knife point under the other strap and pulled up, sawing idly.
"You, Master," she said softly, her eyes closed tightly, her head swimming.
The strap broke, and she gasped, blushing hotly.
He slid the knife between her breasts, and sawed through the fabric there. Her hands could feel her nipples hardening as the elastic pulled, then broke.
He stepped away. "Lower your hands to your sides."
Nikki shook, and looked at him nervously. She obeyed him, though, feeling her breasts bare as the bra fell to the ground.
"Turn around and spread your legs, slave," he said gruffly.
She swallowed hard, but obeyed, setting her hands on a nearby tree for support and spreading her legs out wide.
He chuckled softly and leaned into her ear. "Now do not fucking move a muscle. Do you understand, slave?"
"Yes, Master, I understand." She tensed her muscles.
She felt the blade cutting the crotch of her pantyhose, and the gust of air that blew across her wet, hot sex. She moaned softly.
Dropping the knife on the ground, he whispered in her ear again: "Beg me to fuck you."
Nikki clutched the tree, feeling the roughness of the bark against her face as she rested against it. "Please, Master, I need you. I’ve never needed anything more than I need to feel your cock inside of me. I ache for you. I yearn for you. I will die if I don’t have your firm manhood inside…"
She cried out as she felt him enter her. The fabric of his suit pants rubbed against her ass which each stroke, as he pumped inside of her. His cock was big, bigger than she expected, and it stretched her out until she wanted to scream in pain, but the ecstasy overcame it, the release after the built-up tension, and she came hard, squeezing his cock hard as her fluids poured out.
He clutched her hips hard, riding out her orgasm until it brought on his own, and she came again, feeling his hot cum filling her sex. She cried tears of joy, fear, and release as she felt it.
The last twitchings of his cock subsided, and he leaned over her again, his breathing jagged and heavy. "Close your eyes again, slave, and count to fifteen. And remember me in your dreams, for I have to come to love you as you love me."
She moaned, her body alive with pain and pleasure, mingled juices dripping between her thighs as his cock slipped out of her. She began to count, slowly, as before, each number seeming like an eternity.
When she reached fifteen, Nikki turned. She was alone. By her feet was her pantsuit, neatly folded.
Closing her eyes, she sat on the ground, waiting for reality to stop swimming around her.
Then, slowly, she got dressed and made her way back to her lonely cubicle.