Someone to Watch Over Her

She thought she was “safe” he thought with a mental sneer. Up there on her umpty umpth floor, alone in the clouds. He’d watched her for months, amazed that she truly thought no one could see her as she touched, as she fucked herself, and as she was fucked by others.

He’d watched her watch porn.

Not just any porn, but the dark and dirty kind. The bondage and beating kind. The cum in her mouth and her ass and her tits kind.

In his bedroom was a telescope, hooked to a monitor, so that he could lay in his bed and watch her touching herself. He’d seen a few guys come through, never the same one twice. He’d watched as she’d been trussed open, her pussy spanked then fucked by one masked marauder, watched when the tall bald guy had come by and whipped her until juice drizzled down her thighs, watched as the black guy had fed his cock into her mouth, and later, between her ass cheeks as she had knelt, doggy style, on her big bed. It seemed she’d do just about anything, and with just about anyone.

Thankful that his gig was security, he began digging for information about her. He got her name, address,  phone number, the place where she worked, and the dungeon she frequented.  He knew that she lived alone now, but that she’d been married and divorced, no kids. She made a lot of money advising others how to handle their greenbacks, and her  taste in movies ranged from Up to Die Hard.

He’d been to one who had called the police the night a scene went bad, and had made sure the guy was paid back in kind, a task he attended to personally. Soon, very soon now, he’d meet her. With a tight smile, he continued to watch as she ran her vibe up and down her tight pussy, back arching as she pleasured herself. He stroked his cock as he watched, timing his orgam to spurt when she did.


Stacy Jo Keenan stepped out of her condo building, looking at her iphone and frowning in annoyance, when she walked-full on- into someone. She would have fallen flat on her ass, if strong arms hadn’t grabbed her, and held her upright.

“Careful,” a voice spoke far above her, despite her 5-inch stiletto’s.  Her head tilted back and back.

“You be careful. You walked into me. And dammit!” She teetered, realizing her left heel had broken. “Now I’m going to be late,” she huffed, fuming.

“I was just walking down the street when a sassy-assed girl slammed into me. Good thing I have good balance or I would have fallen and hurt my dainty ass.”

She narrowed her eyes, glaring up at him.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Whyever would I do such a thing? You’re such a sweet little thing.”

“You are making fun of me. . . and it’s not my fault you’re a frikking giant.”

She muttered under her breath “and a clumsy oaf”.

“Did you just call me an … oaf?” His voice, amazed, caught her attention, as did the little shake he gave her.

“I did. Sorry.”

“Now you’re being terse, and it was all your fault, too. Calling me such an archaic name, and hurting my feelings. I could sit right here and cry.” He whined.

She bit her lip. She was not going to laugh. She wasn’t.

The giggle escaped. Clapping a hand over her mouth her blue eyes clashed with his tawny ones.

“Stop. You’re being silly.” She managed, swallowing her smile.

“I can’t help being silly. I’m an oaf!”

Now she was embarrassed.  And giggled again. “I’m sorry I called you an oaf. Really.” Her phone chimed in her hand, but he took it, turned it off.

“Let me help you upstairs so you don’t tip over and knock down any other oafs.” Taking her arm he turned her back towards her door before she could protest. They passed the doorman, who smiled at their exchange once they were inside the thick glass doors.

They were in the elevator before she even thought about what was happening.

“Wait…you can’t come to my apartment…I…”

“I’m not the first guy you’ve had up there, I imagine.” His tone was dry.

She wasn’t sure how to answer that one, really. Her cheeks turned rosy and her brows tugged into a frown.

“I promise to be a good oaf.”

She rolled her eyes. He was like an oversized puppy…but puppies could bite. The doors slid smoothly open and he helped her towards her door. She opened the three locks quickly, then kicked off both her shoes. As she bent to retrieve them, his hands landed on her hips, tugging her back against his legs.

“HEY!” She yelped.

“Little girl, you need a keeper. What the fuck were you thinking, letting a strange man come into your apartment with you? How can you be that complaisant in this city…anywhere? I could kill you. I could rape you. I could tie you up and feed you corn flakes. You have no idea.”

He shook his head, spinning her around to face him. His large hands moved to her shoulders, giving her another shake.

“This was your stupidest idea yet.”

“I…I beg your pardon?” Her tone was frosty, but he heard the thick sound of fear behind the words.

“You’re right about that-you will beg.”