Obsession- Girl Abducted (The Stalker)

219 Pages·2013·0.57 MB·English

by  Thompson Claire

Obsession: A Novel of Involuntary Bondage
by Claire Thompson
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Obsession: A Novel of Involuntary Bondage
by Claire Thompson
OBSESSION
An Erotic Thriller
By
CLAIRE THOMPSON
ISBN 978-1-60089-038-3
All rights reserved
Copyright © 2007 Claire Thompson
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without
written permission.
Sizzler Editions/B&D
www.sizzlereditions.com
A Renaissance E Books publication
(revised and updated-formerly published as The Stalker)
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Obsession: A Novel of Involuntary Bondage
by Claire Thompson
Introduction
When I first wrote The Stalker back in 1999, I was a
relative newcomer not only to writing novels, but to the BDSM
D/s scene, both in fiction and in fact. The Stalker was written
first as entertainment, but also as a way to explore my own
deep-seated fantasies about the "lifestyle" from the safety of
my laptop. Nearly eight years and twenty four novels later, I
thought it was time to return to one of my earlier works and
see if what the Claire Thompson of that era had to say still
resonated with me today.
As I reread I revised, based on my now greater experience
both as a writer and as a submissive in a loving real-life D/s
relationship. The basic story remains intact-a misguided love-
struck "stalker" finds a way to kidnap and keep his "true love"
as his personal sex slave, training her through torture,
deprivation, sexual stimulation and even love, to become his
love object in every sense of the word. As I reread the story,
I attempted to interject more realistic reactions on the part of
the Master/lover and his slave/beloved. The prior ending, one
I had always felt was a little too "pat" was revisited with an
eye to giving the story a more realistic possibility for closure.
If you've read The Stalker, I invite you to take a fresh look
at this revamped, revised and I believe improved version of
the old tale. If this is your first look at Obsession, read on,
and be prepared to submerge yourself into a dangerous
sensual journey of self-discovery on the parts of both the
Master and the slave.
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Obsession: A Novel of Involuntary Bondage
by Claire Thompson
Claire Thompson
2007
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Obsession: A Novel of Involuntary Bondage
by Claire Thompson
CHAPTER One
Emily was naked, her wrists strung high above her head,
pulling her body taut. Her legs were spread wide, held in
place by a long bar of gleaming metal, with an attached metal
cuff securing each ankle. The room was empty, suffused with
a white light from ceiling to floor.
Emily's head had dropped forward, her dark shiny hair
tussled and damp with perspiration. The sound of the whip
cracked against her soft supple flesh. Mark's heavy flogger
struck her body again and again, coiling around her thigh, her
belly, the perfect globes of her ass. Her cries echoed in the
empty room.
Mark lay on the bed, his hand on his cock as he watched
her on the screen. The flat screen high definition TV didn't do
her justice. Emily Hunter was laughing toward him, her dark
blue eyes beckoning to him as he sighed. His recurring
fantasy of whipping his bound slave, just before he let her
down to fuck her, remained in the back of his mind as he
watched the movie star on the screen.
Mark shifted a little in anticipation of her next scene. In a
few moments the male character would begin to unbutton
Emily's blouse. Mark moaned. He should be the only one to
do that. Soon he would be—soon Emily Hunter, adored by
millions, would belong to Mark and only Mark.
He would be able to touch that lovely face, to kiss those
luscious lips. As Mark watched Emily close her eyes,
surrendering herself to her on-screen lover in the climactic
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Obsession: A Novel of Involuntary Bondage
by Claire Thompson
final scene of the adventure-love story that had catapulted
the then relatively-unknown young actress to stardom, he felt
longing dragging like a knife through his gut. Oh, to be kissed
by that mouth, to feel those soft lips brush against his in shy
hesitation before he crushed her to him, before he took what
should belong to him—Mark groaned as his hand flew over his
cock, pumping himself in time to the movements of the lovers
on the screen. Her lips were like ripe fruit waiting to be bitten.
As Mark's lust raged, it wrenched an audible sigh from his
own unkissed mouth.
Emily had been compared to Lauren Bacall and with good
reason. There was something of that sultry "I dare you"
quality in her expression, but Mark knew she was an
innocent. He'd followed her career for the past seven years
with avid attention. Beyond the movies, he read every
interview, bought every magazine on which she was featured
and wrote for several online blogs of devoted Emily Hunter
fans. But it was two years ago, when he'd managed to get
tickets to the screening of her latest movie, that he'd decided
to stop living on the sidelines of Emily Hunter's life.
Seeing her in person had been thrilling. She had worn a
simple but elegant silky blue dress that clung alluringly to her
perfect curves. With that easy, pelvis first gait she had, she'd
walked confidently along the receiving line, stopping every
few feet to be photographed and to meet her fans. When
she'd turned her dazzling smile on Mark, those haunting eyes
staring into his own, he'd felt the electricity pass between
them. Though she turned away a moment later to smile at
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Obsession: A Novel of Involuntary Bondage
by Claire Thompson
the next fan, somehow Mark knew they'd shared something
unique. It was at that moment he began to devise his plan.
The credits began to roll across Mark's very expensive TV
and he still hadn't come. Closing his eyes, he let his favorite
fantasy again roll through his head ... Emily raised her head,
trying to focus those violet-blue eyes on her lover. Her
breasts heaved as she tried to catch her breath. "Thank you,
sir," she managed, her voice sultry. "For what?" Mark
demanded. She had to say it properly. "For whipping me, sir.
I needed it, sir. I need you, sir. Fuck me ... " Mark could
almost feel Emily in the room with him as he furiously
pumped his cocked, shooting his seed over his chest with a
cry of passion. Once he owned her, she would lick him clean.
The autumn day was crisp. That morning there had been
the slightest hint of snow in the air. Mark stood across the
street from the studio where Emily Hunter was having her
photo shoot for a women's fashion magazine. It should have
been over by now. Impatiently he glanced at his watch. He
recognized her driver's car, the nondescript black sedan, its
back windows tinted to keep out prying eyes. It was parked
near the back entrance of the studio on a narrow side street,
ready to whisk away the woman of his dreams.
His heart leapt as the door opened and Emily came out,
tossing her dark hair out of her face as she pulled her leather
jacket more tightly around herself. She strode quickly toward
the parked car. The passenger door was opened from inside
and she slipped in, shutting out any would-be autograph
seekers or paparazzi before anyone even realized she was
there.
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Obsession: A Novel of Involuntary Bondage
by Claire Thompson
Mark knew where she was going. It being midday in
Manhattan, he knew he would get there as fast, if not faster,
on foot, with no snarled traffic to fight. Today she would be
meeting with Lisa Carter, her personal assistant, for lunch at
Caliente, the little Mexican place on 6th Avenue in Greenwich
Village. After lunch, she would go for her massage at Chez
Paul, and then off to the studio to rehearse or do whatever
she did in there. So far, he hadn't been able to get into that
studio—damn security was too tight. He didn't care, though.
What did it matter—he knew where she lived.
Mark Stratton knew as much about Emily Hunter as
anyone alive. He knew she had been born in Galveston,
Texas, and her parents still lived in Houston. He knew her
father was a doctor and her mother was a writer and
illustrator of children's books. He knew about her older sister
who lived in Dallas with two children, a husband and three
dogs.
He knew she kept an apartment in the city, but spent
several months a year filming in Los Angeles, where she
owned a small house in Malibu. He had seen all twelve movies
she had been in, even the first one, where she had a bit part
as the star's little sister. He owned the nine movies out on
DVD. He knew she had just been cast in a romantic comedy
with Tim Rutherford as her co-star. He knew they were not
romantically involved, despite those ridiculous rumors to the
contrary in the tabloids and on the blogs. She couldn't
possibly be involved with that fool.
As he hurried along the crowded streets of New York, he
almost tripped over a disheveled man who was dozing,
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Obsession: A Novel of Involuntary Bondage
by Claire Thompson
slumped over against the wall of a building. A dirty hand
clutched an empty bottle of MD 20-20. Mark cursed softly
under his breath as he hurried past the bum. Mark hated the
city. He had only moved here a few months before from his
peaceful life in Orange County, New York, to be closer to her.
And to make his plans easier to carry out. Luckily, his job as a
programmer with a small computer company was going quite
well—they paid him a lot and didn't mind when he came in, as
long as the work got done. He was their "creative genius" or
so they told him. As long as they continued to pay him
handsomely for his services, he didn't care what they called
him. That money was a means to an end. He was nearly
ready to put his plan into action and to save his darling Emily
from the turmoil of public life.
He got to the restaurant just as Emily was being escorted
in by her driver. He didn't stay, Mark observed, but went back
to wait in the car. Mark brushed past him, resisting an
impulse to strike him. He knew he was only jealous because
the driver got to be close to Emily—he got to take her places,
and open doors for her. Maybe they chatted as they drove,
Emily telling him little tidbits about her latest shoot.
Well, soon Mark would be taking her places. He smiled
grimly to himself as he settled into the small booth not far
from where Emily and Lisa were sitting, musing over their
menus. Poor Emily, she looked tired. She worked much too
hard. Soon that burden would be lifted from her lovely
shoulders. Soon her sole occupation in life would be to be
worshipped and adored by him, Mark Stratton, the only man
who properly understood and appreciated her.
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