Witness Protection / Vigilante Roleplay
Meet Silvana and Mark! The story is still ongoing but I'll post where it's at so far.
More to come!
Silvana Blacklock - 28 years old, high powered reporter, has made enemies because of it. 5 foot 8, long curly brown hair, ice blue eyes, wears glasses, hourglass figure.
Silvana Blacklock is...well....was a reporter for The Intercept before she went out on a date with an manosphere idiot and left the restaurant on foot simply because she couldn't bear hear this man call himself an Alpha one more time. These heels were definitely the wrong choice, Sil, she tells herself as she stomps eight blocks back to her condo.
She rounds the last corner before home when suddenly, she's thrown against the wall. A big, heavy breathing, rank figures clawing at the hem of her dress, trying to pull it up over her hips.
"NO NOOO NOOO FUCK OFF HEEELPPPP NOO NOO PLEASE"
The man successfully gets her skirt up, despite her frantic attempts to push him off, scratch his face, pull the skirt back down, anything...now he reaches for her panties.
She's up against the wall, his entire weight up against her, she tries kicking now...her heels cutting into her skin but hoping by some miracle that a heel punctures him somewhere.
"FUCK OFF HEEEELLLLP HEEEELPPP no no no no no nooo no" she pleads as her underwear is ripped off her body.
"No No no no no please PLEASE HEEEELPPP NOOOOO STTOOOPP HEEELPPPP"
She feels his disgusting sausage fingers searching for her...feels his fingers on her clit and labia...until...a flash of light
A BANG so loud she can't hear anything anymore...and the man being picked up and thrown onto the top of a parked car. She can imagine the bone crushing sound that made, if it wasn't for that bang destroying her eardrums. A man...presumably the one who threw him off of her... pulls out a gun and shoots him 8 times in the chest.
The shooter rushes towards her, she flinches...screaming "NO NO NO" - barely able to hear herself....he wraps her in a long coat, picks her up and leads her to a waiting car....
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Mark "Eunuch Maker" Hall - 33yrs old, ex-military vigilante, 6ft4, short blonde hair, lean toned muscles.
Mark had been roaming the streets for 5 years, ever since the day his wife had been raped and murdered. He had vowed to find justice, and prevent any other woman from having to go through what his wife had to go through. His specialty was stopping rapes in progress and cutting off the rapists cock. The rapist was usually found shortly after, their own cock taped to their face.
His activities had been largely ignored for the first several years. Turns out nobody cared if scumbag rapists got what they deserved. But about a year ago one of his victims turned out to be a cop. Of course his attempted rape was covered up and the police accused "The Eunuch Maker" of having graduated from just attacking criminals. Mark wasn't especially fond of that name, but it worked.
That was about the time Silvana started investigating him. Mark had seen her on the news prior, she had been the typical beautiful reporter who was always assigned the fluff pieces. She quickly exposed the police cover up, and her obvious determination for justice was incredible. Despite his better judgement, Mark found himself becoming almost obsessed with her. Sure, she was among the most beautiful women in the city, but her sense and determination for justice had him falling head over heels for her.
His latest info he had arranged for her to stumble across implicated the police chief in a human trafficking ring. He knew it was dangerous to put her on it, but he also knew she would expose the whole ring if given the opportunity. Given the danger, he decided to follow her around for a week or so. For protection purposes only of course. Or so he told himself.
On this night, he was hiding in the shadows of an alley waiting for her to leave her date with the asshole looking, but hot, muscle bro. He had found himself jealous the moment he saw her. She looked incredible, and unless he blew the date, he imagined she'd almost certainly be staying with the handsome man tonight.
Mark's heart skipped a beat when he saw her walk out alone and obviously annoyed. He started to silently follow her home from tge shadows, when he noticed her date following her also. Mark fell back and over heard him talking on the phone.
"No, she refused to come home with me. Too feminist.....I know you told me she wouldn't go for my Alpha attitude, but I'm gonna be me bro...I'm following her home now, I'll kidnap her first chance I get...I don't know bro, she's so hot. Would be fun to teach her a lesson...No I'm not afraid of the "Eunuch Maker". He hasn't met an Alpha like me yet!" Yeah I'll call you back when it's done."
Mark was stunned and fuming. He continued following Alpha, but lost him for a moment as the downtown movie theater let out. Almost panicked Mark ran looking down each alley, hoping he wasn't too late. That's when he heard the screaming. For a moment he was relieved he didn't kidnap her first. But then the anger overcame him when he turned the corner and saw Alpha's hand up her skirt.
After that everything was a blur of red. Usually he would have his knife out, but this time he pulled out his gun, slamming it into the back of his victims head. Alpha screamed in pain and turned to throw a punch. Mark dodged it and countered with a jaw breaking punch to the jaw. Gun still in hand and overtaken by anger, Mark shot 8 rounds into his chest. Quickly he wrapped Silvana in his long trench coat, carried her to his nearby car, and drove her to his safe house.
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They're speeding along the highway in what looks, from the inside, to be a standard armored SUV, she'd been in several talking with politicians and law enforcement officials, racing through redlights and taking back alleys.
Everything is so dark...she can't see the man sitting next to her, he's masked and hooded, and she's wearing his coat.
Who is he? Who attacked her? Best to not ask many questions now, though that is her literal job...instead she takes in all the details she can...trying to look at street signs...remember the smells, the sounds...which was working for her until a cloth bag was placed over her head and her wrists tied together.
The person, the man next to her, doing the covering and the tying is remarkably gentle...however...
He gathers her hair, the hair that isn't covered and sweeps it all back to one side. And whatever he used to tie her with was soft and left just loose enough that she could still move them...not escape them of course...but they weren't cutting off circulation.
What the fuck is happening?
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Mark hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly as he raced out of the city toward his little log cabin. His SUV flying at more than 120 mph. His mind was racing just as quick. He realized he was taking her to his safe house but hadn't taken precautions to keep the location secure, or even her in the car!
He pulled over and she seemed scared but defiant. Exactly the attitude that he loved about her. He carefully pulled the cloth bag over her head, managing to do so as gently as possible. He knew from experience that women who have just been through an assault do not want to be touched. He hoped treating her gently would help her feel more comfortable.
Back in the SUV and driving he looked over at her. She was sitting straight up, trying to act strong. But her heaving cleavage betrayed her fear. It was everything he could do to not stare. He shook his head to clear his head and then began talking while staring straight ahead, his deep voice trying not to betray to much concern.
"You're safe now. I'm not kidnapping you...well I am, but you need protection. You've pissed off some dangerous people. That guy had been sent by someone to kill you. You need to stay in my safe house until its safe again."
He pulled onto the gravel road, and after a couple of minutes parked. He walked around to her door, kept his mask on but took hers off. "We are in the middle of nowhere. If you feel the need to scream you may, but I'm the only one who will hear you. If you try to run, you won't get far. I won't let a determined justice seeker like yourself be killed. You can stay out here as long as you like, but I won't untie your wrists until you come inside." He stood up, doing his best to keep his eyes wandering, then turned and walked inside.
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I'm being kidnapped for my protection? Her brain is on overdrive, I need to contact so many people, I need to try to identify the man who got shot in order to identify who sent him to rape and murder me....I need to...I need to...scrub myself clean of him.
The bag over her head is carefully removed...the man with the deep voice whose safe house we are apparently at...removing it now that I have no way of retracing the roads we took to get here.
Shes clutching the trench coat around her...very aware of her heaving breasts in this stupid lowcut outfit. Extra very aware of the still hiked up skirt that she hasn't have time or use of her hands to pull down...and the nothing underneath it.
She doesn't scream. She observes the man...clocks what she could about him. Tall. Muscled. Likes tight, black clothing. That's it. That's fucking it. His face and hair covered. Absolutely nada.
'If you try to run, you won't get far?' Yeah no shit sherlock my shoes are laying in the street next to a dead guy and my hands are bound. Plus I'm fucking Lois Lane not Lara Croft, I wouldn't last a day.
"I'd like to go inside, please, outside doesn't feel safe right now and, well, if you were going to...kill or..... ah... rape me, I assume you would've done it by now."
He nods and turns towards towards the house. She takes a deep breath and follows.
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Mark led her up to the cabin, his mind racing through next steps but distracted by his new situation. This was very much a wrench in the plan.
He held the door open, and though she was covered by hus trench coat, he couldn't resist noticing her figure from behind her. The cabin was modest. Definitely a bachelor pad, but he kept it clean, not much for decoration. He pointed toward the bathroom saying "There's a shower in the bathroom. We have a lot to talk about, but you should clear your mind first. There is hot water, but I'm sorry, it won't last more than 5 minutes." He turned and pointed toward the bedroom. "You'll take the bed, there are also clothes in their if you'd like to change. There are women's clothes in the right side of the dresser, but they may not fit." She shot him a look and he realized his gaffe. "No I just mean, they are very small. There are some t-shirts and boxers in the top left drawer as well." Anna had been tiny, without hardly a curve. The bra's would be A cup, and he guessed Silvana was a D cup minimum. He doubted the panties would fit her full round ass either.
Mark shook his head, realizing he was thinking too much about her underwear as he felt a throb in his tight black pants. Shaking the melancholy lust from his head, he chuckled sadly, "Take your time. Again, you are safe. I want you to feel comfortable, we have a lot to discuss."
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Silvana is skeptical...this could be a where his man keeps his prisoners as much as he claims it's a safe house. She won't let her guard down until she has some concrete proof that this man isn't just another kind of attacker. One who earns your trust, then attacks. And she's still only one thin fabric layer away from this man taking exactly what the man he killed had wanted from her. She's reported on too many homicides to think she's any safer here.
The man stands by the front door, giving her a wide berth to walk to the bedroom for clothes and then to the bathroom to shower.
With her eyes still on him... she rummages through the dresser to find something that will fit. He was right...the women's clothing was too small. She could've fit in them pre-puberty but...well...those days were long gone and she was way past these sizes. She looks up...he's still by the door. He's watching her but not in a predatory way. He looks away when he catches her eye. She looks through the t-shirt and boxers. These will fit. They're going to be tight around the bust and hips but...its better than clutching this trench coat shut all night and being reminded what happened while wearing her current outfit.
She gathers a few articles of clothing and walks to the bathroom. "Remember... only 5 minutes of hot water," he says, still by the door.
He's either trying to rush me or doesn't want me to get cold. Either way, I don't want to be naked in this place longer than 5 minutes anyway. She reaches the bathroom and locks the door. She stays there a beat...pressing her ear to the door to hear if he makes any movement. She doesn't hear boots walking across the floor. She doesn't hear anything.
She disrobes, folds the trench coat and places it on the sink. She jumps out of the hiked up skirt, rips off her blouse and bra and throws them into the corner.
She turns on the water and waits one minute for it to get hot. Scalding hot, actually. Perfect. She grabs a bar of soap, one of only 3 items in the shower. a bar of soap, shampoo and conditioner. She scrubs between her thighs for the entire 5 minutes, managing to get her head of hair and body wet as well, but doesn't bother shampooing and conditioning. It takes a good 20 minutes in the shower and about four different products to give her curly hair the care it needs anyway.
She watches the entry door through the sliding glass doors of the shower. They've remained closed.
The water cools down in an instant, so she shuts it off. Steps out and grabs the one gray towel hanging on the wall.
She dries off, rehangs it and steps into the boxers. They fit fine in the legs and waist but oooof, it takes effort to pull them over her hips. She puts two t-shirts on, since there were no bras, but they're both thin and tight enough around her chests that putting two on made no difference. She looks in the mirror...yeah...very obvious there's no bra under there. Ands her wet hair dripping down into the t-shirt fabric doesn't help either. She bounds her hair up in the towel so she can keep the clothes dry at least.
"Fuck..." she whispers to herself in the mirror. "The fuck do I do now?"
She listens at the door again before unlocking it. Not a sound. He'll need to use the bathroom at some point... and she's sure he has a key, she can't stay in here forever.
She slowly unlocks it and comes out. He's in the exact same spot by the door.
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Mark watches as Silvana looks through the clothes and steps to the bathroom. Lost in his thoughts, he stayed by the door. He didn't want her thinking he had tried to sneak a peek, or engaged in any other creepy of behavior. They were so close to bringing down the corrupt police department. The last thing he needed was her getting bullied off of the story, or worse killed!
He did feel a small sense of pride at his self control. Any other man would be going crazy having THE Silvana Blacklock naked in their bathroom. Yet here he stood, trying to think out next steps and mostly ignoring the intense feelings he had for her.
That was, until she came out of the bathroom. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her hourglass silhouette, but it nearly stopped at as he saw her in his t shirt and boxers. "My god you're beautiful!", he exclaimed as his eyes quickly noticed the tightness of the clothing and her cold hard nipples.
His words hung in the air for half a second until he realized what he had just said and quickly composed himself. "I'm sorry, that's the last thing you need or want to hear right now." He pointed toward the table and moved to sit down with her. He had planned on continuing to stand near the door, but he needed to sit and hide himself as his bulge was becoming more prominent.
He cleared his throat and did everything he could to maintain eye contact despite the distraction of her big breasts and hard nipples. "I know you probably have a thousand questions. I'm going to take off my mask. If you remember your news stories, that might answer most questions. But please ask anything you need to." With that, he pulled off his mask, his face weary, but handsome as ever. His green eyes met hers as he searched her face for any sign of recognition.
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She sits...ignoring his compliment. He's right, she didn't want to hear that right now.
"I'm going to take off my mask. If you remember your news stories, that might answer most questions. But please ask anything you need to." With that, he pulled off his mask.
"Mark Hall," she whispers...as the man across from her pulls his mask down.
Mark Hall, the vigilante ex-military man going around cutting men's dicks off. She had researched him and had found the real identity of the "Eunuch Maker" (she hated that name) just a few days ago - the detectives assigned to find out who he was were so many steps behind her, it was ridiculous. In those few days since she had discovered the identity of the vigilante, she'd been impossibly conflicted. She knew she was duty bound to report him, or clue in the detectives to what she'd found but she couldn't make herself do it. Mark Hall hadn't been seen in months. She wanted to talk to him first, before she exposed the only person in this city who was protecting women.
Well...that does help her feel like she isn't going to get murdered...by him at least.
She folds her arms against her chest...and without knowing it...made each breast and it's nipple more prominent in his view.
"I've been trying to find you."
He just looks at her. Waiting for her to ask more questions.
"So, who was the guy who...who you killed? And who sent him? I piss off a lot of rich, dangerous people so you're going to have to be more specific."
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"Mark Hall," she whispers...as the man across from her pulls his mask down.
Mark just nodded, confirming her answer. He noticed she relaxed a little, and he was relieved to feel like she might not go to the cops immediately. However, it was accompanied by her making it even harder to maintain eye contact. Mark managed it, mostly.
"So, who was the guy who...who you killed? And who sent him? I piss off a lot of rich, dangerous people so you're going to have to be more specific."
Mark chuckled, "Yes you do! You're zeal for justice is incredible. If more people in this city were more like you, well, I wouldn't have anything to do in my spare time." He leaned back, his pants only continuing to get tighter. "As for who he was? I dont know. Probably exactly who he told he was. He didn't seen very smart. As for who sent him" Mark paused. "I don't know. I have suspicions. I've been working my way up punishing my through a very deep trafficking ring. You've been trying to find me, which means as I get closer, you get closer. I don't know who it is yet, and I killed my most recent lead, instead of, well, getting him to give me info. Men talk fast with their dick on the line. Of course, they deserve to have it cut off anyway, so it doesn't save them either."
As he got into his own actions, his anger built. His muscles tensed and his face flushed red. "I'm almost certain the mayor and police chief are at the top of the ring." He slammed his fist down on the table violently. "And they will pay for their crimes.", He growled.
He took a few deep breaths and continued. "You are the only person in this city trying to make things better. Yes, the threat of a serial killer cutting off a rapists dick has been a deterrent, but we both know that can't continue forever. I need you, I mean, your help exposing the corruption in this city."
"Please, stay here. We are so close to finishing this whole thing that started 5 years ago. I know my brand of justice isn't exactly the best version, but it's better than what the city is providing." Mark again nodded to the bedroom. "It's late, and to say its been a stressful night would be an understatement. Unless you have more questions, go try to get some some sleep. Your place may not be safe, but we'll go get you some more uhm," he again glances at her breasts, "more comfortable clothes tomorrow."
Mentally Mark was kicking himself. Hoping he kept his eyes in check enough to not make her think he was just a creep. Thankfully he could stay in the seat, if she could see how hard his cock was right now, it would probably ruin everything.
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Silvana didn't flinch when the elusive Mark Hall slammed his fist down on the table. If the mayor and police chief are indeed at the top of this trafficking ring Mark speaks of, they'll both need a certain amount of rage in them to keep uncovering the truth despite the numerous and obvious roadblocks in their way.
He's exactly how I pictured. Stoic. Hardened, like most ex-military, but respectful. He killed a man for touching me. Brought me to his own safe house, which was risky and if it's found out, he has to go through all the trouble of setting up a new one.
"Thank you for bringing me here. And stopping the assault. I truly.....it wouldn't have been the first time so I'm glad I didn't have to live through that again," she says...letting a tiny but of her facade crack.
Something in his face twitched...she saw it, barely. She unfolded her arms...her breasts falling just slightly and rested her elbows on the table, her hands intertwining. Ready to formulate how she could factor into his plans.
"I doubt I'll sleep much," she says. "My mind is reeling and I need to contact some sources. And my boss. NOT to tell him about you, just that, I, guess I need to take time off. How long do you think I'll need to stay here? I'm guessing I can't use my phone here or it'll be tracked. Do you have a burner? I do want to help you...I just don't know how, from here."
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"Thank you for bringing me here. And stopping the assault. I truly.....it wouldn't have been the first time so I'm glad I didn't have to live through that again"
Mark knew most women had been assaulted at some point in their life. But hearing it had already happened to Silvana still angered him. He almost flew of the handle, ready to demand to know who else would dare to harm this Angel! But that could wait, there were bigger fish to fry. Then she leaned forward, elbows on the table, and he allowed himself another glance at her unhindered breasts, the drafty cabin keeping her nipples hard. Just a quick glance and he was back staring into those beautiful ice blue eyes.
"I doubt I'll sleep much," she says. "My mind is reeling and I need to contact some sources. And my boss. NOT to tell him about you, just that, I, guess I need to take time off. How long do you think I'll need to stay here? I'm guessing I can't use my phone here or it'll be tracked. Do you have a burner? I do want to help you...I just don't know how, from here."
Mark thought for a moment, giving the slightest bit of a smile that she was ready to help. She was right of course. That is unless they were a step behind. It really was stupid of Mark to not have a tv or internet here. Necessary in some ways, but it did leave them a bit in the dark. "I do have a burner, you should definitely call your boss. It's possible the chief is framing you for that murder, if he hasn't already. See what info you can get from your boss, but don't tell him anything."
Mark stood up, his pants having become less tight, but his bulge still unmistakable in his tight pants. He walked to the kitchen counter and grabbed the phone. He had only used it to create distractions to make it easier to get to his victims. He placed it on the table in front of her. "Make any calls you need to. As for how you can help, I might have a plan. Maybe we can use your large social media following. But I need to take a shower and clear my own head. You make your calls, we can brainstorm after."
Mark walked to the bedroom and peeled off his shirt. His toned muscles flexed, and his several scars and his "Semper Fi" marine tattoo stood out on his otherwise unmarked body. It was of course covered in blood, but he did regret not giving himself the opportunity to cut off manosphere bro's dick off. He grabbed a t shirt and some sweat pants and made his way to the shower. Silvana was already on the phone deep in conversation. He took a deep breath as he turned to the bathroom, wondering how in the world this was actually going to work.
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Silvana leaped at the burner while Mark walked to the bedroom and called her source, first, to let them know she won't be reachable for a while and to lay low, maybe even leave town for a bit.
As she spoke, she watched Mark peel his blood soaked shirt off. When she had taken off the trench coat earlier...she noticed some patches of blood as well...hardly detectable on the dark fabric but hot...sticky...
We should burn everything he was wearing. My clothes, too.
She kept her eyes on him while she spoke. Incredibly fit. Marine, she could tell by the Semper Fi tattoo. That answers that question, which branch he served in. Scars. Probably earned both in combat and saving women around the city. And blood, dripping down his muscles.
She watched him take a deep breath before disappearing into the bathroom. It was a reminder for her to breathe herself. She finished warning her 2 closest sources then called her boss.
Police had set up a perimeter around the murder she had just witnessed. Her panties and heels had been collected as evidence. Presumably, they didn't know she was the owner of those items yet...until they test the them and match her DNA, so she still might have some time to get her affairs in order before she's detained her for an undetermined amount of time. They could set up a station here with internet access if she could get her air gaped laptop from her apartment. She obviously had to do some dubious activities online to do her job well, so she'd bought several a few years so she didn't peak anyone's interest at the bureau.
She makes one more call to her father, knowing he'd be worried if he didn't hear from her. She usually called him on weekends and while she has no idea what time it is, she knows it's Saturday by now, since her date-turned-crime-scene was 10pm Friday night.
"Ok, yeah, love you too," she says and hangs up as Mark exits the bathroom.
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Mark stood under the shower head, enjoying the feel of the cold water. Mentally he was kicking himself for letting himself feel such an attraction to the woman in the other room. The only woman other than Anne to be in what they had jokingly refered to as their sex cabin. He knew he had been becoming obsessed with Silvana, but until tonight he didn't realize how much. He felt guilty, as if he was betraying Anne.
He hadn't had sex since her death, and at this point couldn't even remember the last time he had masturbated. He knew he wouldn't be able to focus if he didn't take care of himself though. Slowly he began stroking himself, thinking of the fun him and Anne had had at the cabin. The kitchen counter, this shower, of course the couch and bed. As he thought his hand began to pick up its pace, stroking the length of his wet cock. They had even had sex outdoors next to and bent over the big tree behind the cabin. As he remembered Anne's little body bent over, feet off the ground as he held her up by her hip, his mental image suddenly changed from Anne to Silvana, and he managed to hide his gasp and grunts as he immediately came.
The guilt came over him immediately and he determined to stop feeling things for Silvana. He shut off the water, dried off, and pulled on his sweat pants. He opened the door as he pulled his shirt over his torso. It clung to his body, almost looking painted on his chiseled body. But the cum really had cleared his head, and he was immediately all business.
"I don't imagine you care about those clothes anymore, but I hope they weren't too expensive, they need to be burned. Mine too. Its why my wardrobe is so limited. Only the cheapest clothes because they are going to get burned anyway. I'm going to go get a fire started, if you don't mind please bring the clothes out."
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"Right, of course. Yeah, I never want to see them again," she agrees as she walks around him, squeezing past him and the wall, to get the clothing. Her hips brush his, accidently. She looks up and him and mumbles, "Sorry," as she keeps moving. She catches a whiff....mmm he smells good. We both smell like the same soap now.
He's getting the fire started as she gathers her clothes. She bends at her waist to pick them up...the stench invading her nose and replacing the pleasant soap aroma. This is the last time I've ever think of that man. She closes her eyes and takes a deep, calming breath. She walks, barefoot and in Mark's thin clothing, over to the growing fire, waiting for the flames to rise.
They both stand there, in silence.
The kindling cracking as the flames rise in the fireplace.
She throws her clothes in first, watching thread upon thread stretch and snap and burn.
Mark throws his clothes in.
Her chest is heaving as her eyes bore into the flames. She should look away but she can't. She recalls the attack. Then she recalls the...first....attack. All those years ago. She can't catch her breath...she...back in time....waiting for someone to make it stop but no one does. She's hyperventilating. Someone did stop it this time. Being rescued then brought here, still afraid for her life to showering to Mark revealing himself to having to make calls...she hasn't had time for old memories to creep in. But they've invaded now...and she can't control it.
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Mark stood there watching the clothes burn, remembering the first time he burned his clothes. How many sets of clothes had he burned now? He wasn't sure. He was glad he had decided not to save the dicks he cut off as trophies, especially now with Silvana here, but if he had he would at least know how many.
As the clothes burned, his eyes were drawn to the melting plastic and burning cloth of the clothes Silvana had been wearing. She had looked absolutely incredible tonight, and while he had no business even wondering about it, he was pretty sure she had gone to the date with the thought that sex might be possible. The thought of her willing giving herself to that man made his skin crawl. A moment of jealousy hit him, but the sound of her breathing speeding up caught his attention. Hers is crawling to you dumb ass, he thought to himself.
He looked over to see her crying, and breathing rapidly. She was definitely beginning to have a panic attack. He ignored his first instinct to wrap his arms around her and tell her everything was alright, but given the circumstances that seemed like a bad idea. Instead, he gently took her hand, led her to the couch and told her to sit. He knelt in front of her, a slight mistake as now her beautiful heaving bosom was perfectly at eye level. But he managed to keep his eyes connected with hers as he gently but firmly took both her hands.
"It's ok, its been a traumatic night, cry all you need too, but you need to breath, ok? Innnnn and ouuut, innnnnn and ouuut. You are safe now." His grip on her hands tightened as the anger of her assault filled him again. "This will never, ever happen to you again as long as I live!" He said angrily, his deep darkness showing itself for a moment.
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Silvana can't hear anything besides the roaring in her ears... she can't enough air in her lungs...it's painful....then she feels Mark take her hand, gently. He ushers her to the couch, beckons her to sit and kneels so that she can look right into his eyes.
His eyes, a mixture of sorrow and persistance...she can't hear what he's saying but she feels him gripping her hands...squeezing tight to inhale....loosening her grip to exhale...they sit like that for, she can't tell how long....until he's settled between her legs...hands clasped together in her lap...she can feel his ribcage inflate and deflate with the breathing exercises.
She can hear them both breathing in and out now...the roaring subsided.
She nods as they breathe...signaling that it's working.
She does feel safe, in his hands. In his home...or...safe house.
She doesn't want to let go but...they need to get back to her apartment before it's descended upon by police officers. Incompetent as they've been outing their own...they'll be quick to attack once they know she's the one they're searching for.
Taking three more deep breaths...she releases her hold on Mark.
"Thank you...Mark. I....uh....I get those sometimes and I always have to....just...ride it out. Usually takes much longer... by myself. Thank you."
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"Your welcome. I can't even imagine what you are feeling." Mark said. He moved away, trying not to think about how it felt having her hold his hands in her lap. Or the way her legs had felt on his arms. Or how sweet and vulnerable she looked after the panic had passed. What was wrong with him? He hadn't felt like this since Anne!
"When you are ready we need to hurry into town. It sounds like we might have a few hours before the police lock your place down. We can get you clothes and any untraceable electronics you need"
He was anxious to get her some proper clothing. It was so hard to focus on anything with the clothes she was being forced to wear. She had to get something more appropriate on, or she was going to catch him looking and think he's no better than anyone else.
He picked up the keys, held open the door, glancing at the shorts tight around her hips, her beautiful ass bouncing with each step. He also held open the car door, resisting the urge to watch her boobs bounce and sway as she settled into the armored SUV. He climbed in and began driving much less wildly this time, but not even thinking how she might react to him already knowing where she lived.
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The car ride was quiet. Mark had, thankfully, turned the heater on. She wasn't wearing much and walking into the night air erased all the warmth she had gathered from the fire. And from Mark.
It took them about 20 minutes before she recognized where they were. She then did some quick mental mapping to let him know what direction to go in, what turns to make to get to her place. The first turn was coming up that he would need to take, and by her estimation...about 5 more turns after that.
"Larchwood Avenue is the next light, you'll need to take a left," she informs him. He knows this already. But will take her direction. He turns on the left blinker.
"Then a right on Whispering Pines," she says, staring out the window. He turns on the right blinker.
Lost in thought...she realizes she forgets to point out the next turn....a right on Elmwood. Thinking he doesn't have enough time to slow down, she recalculates in her mind how to make up for missing that turn when...he puts the right blinker on....and turns exactly where he's supposed to.
She looks at him...analyzing.
"You already know where I live. You knew people were going to come after me?"
He gives her a knowing glance...then eyes back on the road for the next left turn on 5th Avenue.
She stays quiet as he takes one more left onto Spruce Court...and comes to a crawling halt in front of her apartment building.
"We can't be here long. Do you need help carrying anything?" he asks.
She shakes off the thought that he's been here before. Or watched her. That didn't upset her at this point. What did was that maybe he'd already saved her from murderous men and had no idea.
"Yeah. I need your help. There's a fair amount of electronics we need to grab," she says as she exits the SUV and lets them into her apartment.
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Mark really needed Silvana to change. He realized as she went to open the door that he had about thrown all caution to the wind, almost acting like they were in no danger at all. Her body on display like that, innocent as it was, was distracting him too much.
As she opened the door, he grabbed her arm before she stepped in. "Silvana, Wait. Quiet. Stay close.", he whispered. He pulled the gun out of the waistband of his sweatpants and began methodically sweeping through the apartment. Main room, kitchen, bathroom, office, bedroom, master bathroom. It was all clear.
"Hurry, change into something more comfortable, and pack dome clothes. No more than you can carry. Remember, someone could show up at any moment. Where are the electronics?" Silvana pointed toward the office and Mark turned pulling the bedroom door shut behind him.
Hoping his previously long dormant hormones would finally begin to settle now, he walked into the office, immediately packing laptops, thumb drives, and signal boosters. He saw a police scanner and turned it on. He was also pleasantly surprised to find some high tech surveillance equipment and a signal jammer. As he packed it all up in a couple of boxes he found in the corner, he found himself more and more proud of her. She had been so resilient tonight, despite the circumstances. And having all this equipment? That was beyond dedication to her job. That was her dedication to the truth. Everything about this woman was attractive!
That was enough! How could he be doing everything for Anne while obsessed with another woman. No, if he was going to see this out as he had promised, he had to stop obsessing. It was fine to notice she was attractive, but he couldn't allow himself to fall in love with her, if he hadn't already.
"Officers Maxton and Smith. We are 2 minutes out of Spruce Court. Over."
"Good, remember she is armed and dangerous, don't let her seduce you like she did Charlie. The witch is a killer. Be prepared to take lethal action if necessary."
The second voice was the chief. Again trying to use his cops to maintain a cover up. There wasn't time for Mark to be angry though. "Silvana, we have to go, NOW!"
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When Mark grabbed her arm to do a sweep of her apartment, she only allowed herself to think of his skin on hers for a second, then turned back to the task at hand. Change. Grab clothes. Grab toiletries. Leave.
The apartment was clear, she pointed him to the office when ran to her closet. She grabbed a weekend bag, a graduation gift from her dad from journalism school. She used it frequently on assignments, a day in London here, a weekend in Istanbul here. Her recent work trying to bring down the city's corrupt police force had keep her hyper-local so she was morbidly excited to get to use the bag again.
She quickly removed Mark's clothes and threw them in the bag. She got dressed in a pair of jeans, boots and a sweater - no time for underwear, socks and bra but at least the thick fabrics warmed her up instantly. Without thought, she frantically grabbed a handful each of underwear, bras, socks, leggings, and long sleeve shirts, throwing them into the bag in less than 10 seconds. She dragged the bag to the bathroom and used her entire arm to sweep up and drop all her daily use items into the open luggage. Toothbrush, toothpaste, the hair products she'll need if she doesn't want her hair turning into a tangled shitshow. Ok. Done in here.
She opens the bedroom door, sees Mark still packing in the office. She looks both ways before rushing to the kitchen. Grabbing an old grocery bag and stuffing it with food from her pantry. She didn't know the food situation at Marks and she knew she needed coffee and chocolate to sustain her while she worked to help with whatever Mark's plan was, or help him create a new plan since...he killed someone.
From her office she hears the police scanner alert:
"2 minutes out of Spruce Court. Over."
"Good, remember she is armed and dangerous, don't let her seduce you like she did Charlie. The witch is a killer. Be prepared to take lethal action if necessary."
"Silvana, we have to go, NOW!" Mark yells emerging from the office while Silvana screamed "Fuck" from the kitchen - two seconds later, with her weekend bag over her shoulder and the grocery bag in hand, they're at the front door, him balancing 2 boxes in one arm. He reaches for her after she locks the door, hand in hand, both of them rushing down the stairs to get the fuck outta there.
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Mark had instinctually grabbed Silvana hand as they rushed toward his SUV and didn't even realize it until he let go to grab her bags with his free arm. "Hurry, get in the back and under the blanket." As she stepped up and bent over to climb into the large SUV, Mark couldn't help but notice how her jeans perfectly hugged her round ass
She was in and under the blanket quicker than he expected, and as her bags didn't look to feminine he placed them and the electronics bag around her as some added concealment. As he rushed around and climbed into the driver's side he saw the cops driving up, lights and sirens off. One went toward the apartment, gun already out, the other began approaching the car as Mark started to drive away.
He watched the cop in his rear view run back to the car, and turn on his lights and folliw. Mark thought about fleeing, but felt good about Silvana being hidden and decided to pull over. "Don't make a single sound" he told her, though she probably already knew that. The cop approached the car gun drawn, and Mark made sure his own gun was in quick reach.
The officer told him to roll down his window, and Mark complied. "License and registration please? Where are you going this time of night?" Mark recognized Officer Maxton as the man who he had next on his list. He had assaulted at least 3 different women, but had help covering it up every time. "I'm moving to a new apartment. I work 9am to 9pm so this is just the best time for me to do it." Mark pretended to not be able to find his wallet. "Damn it, my wallet must be in one of the boxes. I'm going to need to get out and search for it."
"Apartment is clear, looks like its been raided, over"
"10-4, I have the silver SUV, driver says he accidentally packed up his wallet moving. 3 blocks north of your position. Over"
"On my way, over."
Mark was going to have to move quick. He estimated Maxton partner would be here in 5 minutes and able to see them in three.
"Step on out, slowly. Get your wallet, but no quick moves, understand?" "Yes sir officer"
Maxton took a step back to allow Mark to exit the SUV, and that was all the space he needed. In one quick move his gun came from the back of his pants and smashed into the officers jaw. Maxton crumpled to ground out cold. Quickly he picked him up threw him over his shoulder and opened the back door, almost throwing him on top of Silvana. He had almost completely forgotten about her in the moment. "Out, hurry get in the front seat" he said, tossing the cop down as she moves. By the time Mark was spreading away he estimated just a minute had passed. Sure enough, a couple minutes later Smith was on the radio Mark had pulled from Maxton
"Derek, you said 3 blocks? Over...Derek do you copy, over....dispatch we have an officer missing, presumed kidnapped, large silver SUV"
Mark couldn't help himself. "Officer Maxton forgot he had an appointment with everyone's favorite plastic surgeon. Be sure to congratulate him when you see him again, he'll be dickless"
Throwing the radio out the window, he headed south, in the opposite direction towards one of his other safehouses, his mind racing, thrilled to be able to dole out justice to Maxton, but unsure on how to go about it with Silvana in tow.
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Silvana's under the blanket, attempting to be as small and silent as possible if she could only wrangle in the sound of her heart beating out of her chest. Fuck, that was close, she thinks as she feels Mark peel off.
Her body relaxes and she slumps fully onto the bed of the truck when she hears a police siren. No no no no noooo, no, is Mark pulling over?! WTF.
She tenses again, placing her head over her mouth so she can at least muffle a sound if she makes one. She's had some close calls before, trying to sneak around without getting caught but this one...since she's can't see or talk her way out of it...has her petrified.
She listens to Mark skillfully request to get out of the car.
No way he's coming back here to rummage through boxes, though, so what is he....
She hears bone crushing against metal...
Ahhh, that's what he's doing.
The trunk door opens but she doesn't dare look out from the blanket until she hears Mark tell her to get in the front seat.
Why would I need to....
She sees the body.
Ahhh. Right.
She leaps into the front seat, keeping her head down so that cameras can't capture her likeness.
Marks slams the trunk closed and launches himself into the driver's seat, slamming the gas and taking the most crazy turns to lose anyone that may have seen anything.
A few anxiety-ridden minutes pass and neither of them see anyone following them.
"Everyone's favorite plastic surgeon, huh?" she semi grins. "He wasn't just a cop that pulled us over, was he? He is part of the ring?"
Mark nods, keeping his eye on the road.
"Right. Then I get a front row seat to his castration. Tonight is starting to go better than expected."
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Mark almost cracks a smile as Silvana calls out his cheesy taunting. He had never taunted them like that. It was probably a stupid thing to do, but his adrenaline was rushing, it was time for some fun! Wait, did she just say...
"You...WANT...to watch?" He said, initially surprised. Of course she did. She was a reporter. Hell, with the night she was having she'd probably want to do the honors. "No. Hell no! Absolutely not! That would make you an accessory!"
He glanced over at her to give her a look to emphasize how bad an idea that was, but was taken aback. As his eyes met her beautiful ice blue eyes, they looked colder than ever. It was the same look Anne would give him when he told her no. Except with Anne, the look was tempered with a loving amusement. He turned back forward, shaking his head.
"Look, this isn't some Batman movie bullshit. Its bloody. Its smelly. And the screams...well...I can't lie, the screams are pretty satisfying. If you REALLY want to, ok. But you will be watching as a reporter. You can ask questions of me, but you don't say a word to that piece of shit. And I reserve the right to add more rules as I see fit. Is that understood?" He finished as he took a sharp right onto a dirt road.
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She felt a little taken aback by his rejection of her wish to watch. When Silvana first heard about the "Eunuch Maker's" tactics...she felt a sense of justice she had never felt about her attacker. She had reported him to all the places you're told to report to, but she was still the person who had to move cities to escape the harassment.
But she conceded...this was his territory, she was just along for the ride. She raised both arms in the air, surrendering to his concerns. "Understood, completely. I don't want to make your life harder, I swear." She put her hands back down in her lap and looked forward.
"But....when you murdered the man attacking me, I couldn't enjoy it because I thought I was still in danger... This time .... I can enjoy seeing a rapist get what's coming to them," she confessed. Her voice sounded as sure as she's ever sounded about anything.
"And then when it's done, I'll tuck it away in my mind where I, admittingly, tuck away a lot of shit. I'll take it to the grave. I swear."
She looks back at Mark with a pleading behind her icy blue eyes.
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Mark saw the pleading in her eyes, and almost melted. There was no way he was going to be able to say no to her. But he steeled himself as he pulled into a garage next to another cabin. "OK. I understand, and you certainly do deserve to be there if you want. Just, do as I've said.
Mark hopped out of the car, opened the back door, and threw the 240lb officer over his shoulder almost effortlessly. He led them back behind the cabin and down into a hidden storm shelter. He flipped on the little hanging light, illuminating the dark, musty concrete room. Blood stains were visible on the wall and floor under a hook in the ceiling on the far wall. On the wall to the left a sink, and the right a tool chest.
He laid the man down on a table and carefully cut his clothes off before going to the tool chest and pulling out some rope, a large knife, and a bottle of pills. He tied his hands and feet together with some rope, then hung him by the rope on his hands, and tethered his feet to the ground, making it all but impossible for him to move.
Pointing toward the officers small limp dick, he looks at Sil and says, "It's always disappointing when they have such a tiny cock. They still fear the pain, but there is no stripping them of pride. I guess other people feel the same disappointment for completely different reasons. Anyway, now we leave him hanging here to wake up and give him a few hours to go through the gamut of emotions of waking up in such a way."
Mark's stomach growled, and he looked at the old school clock. It was closing in on 3am. "Usually I would take this time to work out, but I'm not prepared. And I don't know about you, but I'm starved. I don't have much for food, but there is Ramen or pb and J, and whatever you grabbed from your kitchen." With that, he left the storm shelter, grabbed the two boxes of electronics with one arm, and the bags she had packed with the other and led her into the cabin.
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Sil watches Mark skillfully prepare the rapist for this last couple hours with a cock. He precisely removes his clothing and binds the man with rope. She watches as he strings the rapist up vertically, his entire body exposed and vulnerable. The way he liked his victims, she assumes. We'll see how HE likes it when he wakes up.
Her stomach also growls at the suggestion of food. With one more long stare at the criminal dangles from the ceiling, she follows Mark out of the storm shelter to the car to grab everything out of the back. She goes to grab her bag and snacks but Mark carries everything. She lets herself stare at his muscles under his shirt for a second before her stomach makes her remember her priorities. With nothing to carry, Sil takes in the wooded area around her as they climb up a short set of stairs into a modern log cabin, another safe house? How many does he need? she wonders.
Mark lays her weekend bag carefully onto am armchair right inside the cabin, unloads her snack bag on a small kitchen island and walks down a dark hall, presumably to an office or guest room, to deposit the boxes of electronics. This cabin couldn't be more different than the first one. The first one felt cold, (and was actually cold, before Mark started a fire), barren and lonely. This one felt lived in. There were wool blankets on the furniture. Paintings on the walls. Lots of plaid. Like a lumberjack lived here, or used to. It smelled like pine trees.
As Sil starts to look through her snack bag, pulling out coffee beans and chocolate, she sees pecans and raisins made their way into the bag as well. Score. I wonder if he has a grinder...if not...no coffee, I guess. Maybe he has instant, I'd take anything right now....she thinks has she yawns.
As she's yawning, Mark walks back out. She tries to stifle the yawn...not wanting to look tired when there was work to do. But maybe...if there was time for food, there was time for a little rest. She was a master micro-napper, had to be to be able to keep up with all her investigative research without becoming a shell of herself.
She pops some pecans and raisins in her mouth as Mark slides behind her, pulling bread and peanut butter down from a cupboard. Just having snacks in the kitchen like a regular old....nope...you are not a couple....you haven't been a part of a couple since you've started dedicating your life to rooting out rapists. No man will touch you. Except for ones who want to kill you, apparently she reminds herself....all while a rapist is strung up in the adjacent cellar.
She turns around...watches him make himself a sandwich and she eats her pseudo trail mix.
"Do you have a grinder?" she asks, still chewing, holding up the coffee beans. Chewing then yawning... a long yawn this time.....coffee or sleep....coffee or.....sleep?