by Kalpana Kali
Oh, no, another one!
Darcie opened it with trembling fingers.
The handwriting was forceful and blunt, just like the words:
“I’m coming for you, Darcie. Soon, I’ll have my cock all the way up your tight virgin cunt. I’m going to empty my balls in your womb while you beg to carry my baby.”
She whimpered and sat on her bed. She really wanted to scream, but her parents were home and would hear her.
These anonymous notes had been coming for weeks. Some in Darcie’s car; one on the seat where she always sat for the Chemistry lecture; a few in her book bag. They were driving her crazy with fear and the worst part was she could not tell anyone.
When Darcie had complained to her parents about Reverend Litton trying to feel her up years ago, they had only told her that it was her fault for dressing slutty and that she must have encouraged a man of God to sin. They even insisted she apologize to the priest and keep going to church.
It was unlikely they’d believe she had a stalker now. They’d probably accuse her of writing the notes herself. And even if they did believe her, they’d say she’d brought it on by flirting with some strange man. Darcie couldn’t afford for them to get angry. They had barely agreed to pay for her community college as it was.
This was the first note she’d found in her house, though.
In her bedroom!
Darcie had managed to stay clear of the creepy reverend after that first time, but this new psycho could get to her anywhere. Who could it be? At first she had actually suspected the reverend was sending the notes, but he had lost interest in her when her hips had grown wide and her breasts had become round and heavy.
Darcie looked up, across her wide back yard to the woods behind the fence. Just as she expected, two red balloons were floating there, tied to the top of a tree. Her stalker had begun the balloon thing nearly a week ago, starting with seven of them. Every day, the balloons counted down. Tomorrow was the last day. What was going to happen?
As if she didn’t know. The note hadn’t left any room for doubt. He was going to fuck her and get her pregnant. Maybe she could get some morning after pills, just in case? No, her parents would hear about it if she bought something like that in their small town and they’d be mad as Hell.
At eight, her parents left for the mayor’s re-election dinner. As innocently as she could, Darcie asked if she could go along with them. But it was ‘invitees only’.
She bolted the doors and double checked that the windows were locked. Wishing she had a bulletproof vest, she put on a T-shirt and gym shorts. Sitting in her room, Darcie looked out at the dark forest. Was that movement to the right?
It was!
Just a deer, though. She watched it sniff at some bushes then run back into the shadows. Darcie wanted to run like that. She was just as vulnerable as that deer, and a predator was after her.
What she needed was a drink—of her father’s scotch. She was almost legal drinking age anyway. She’d tried alcohol only once, sneaking some at a cousin’s wedding when her parents were busy. It had relaxed her and made the world seem easy.
A lifetime of her father’s rules overcame her urge, however, and she settled for orange juice.
Darcie sat at the kitchen island sipping from her glass and watching people sing on TV for money. She wished she could join them. Not for the money, but to sing before an audience. Church didn’t count. All she sang about there was heaven and God. She wanted to sing about boys and love and romance. But her parents got mad if they ever heard her playing anything but Christian rock.
The next contestant chose a song Darcie knew. After all, her parents had no control over what she listened to in the car, so she had many chances to sing along to the popular stuff. She waited a few beats for the chorus to kick in and began belting out the words. Darcie knew she was hitting the notes right. She sang loudly and passionately, like she was on a stage awash in lights.
Just as she hit the high note. however, the house went dark. The TV clicked off. The ceiling fan stopped whirring. The fridge went dead. Darcie took a panicked breath and looked wildly about.
A man spoke, his muffled voice seeming to come from everywhere. “You sing like an angel, Darcie.”
He’s here!
She turned to run for her room, but hit her knee on a chair. Darcie yelled out and started running again. A hand caught her wrist and she wrenched herself free. He grabbed her elbow and pulled her off balance. She could make out his dark shape. She swung her fist at it, but his other hand caught her and twisted her around.
Darcie was standing with both arms trapped behind her. He drew her into his warm bulk and wrapped a large, strong arm around her stomach.
The intruder spoke in a soft, commanding voice. “Don’t move, Darcie.”
She tried to pull away and he twisted her wrist into an even more painful position for a few seconds. Darcie cried out.
“Stay still,” said the man. “You’ll be fine as long as you don’t move. Got it?”
“Yes,” she managed to answer.
“I’m just here to check on a few things for the party we’re going to have later, then I’m leaving. Are you going to let me do what I need to do? I’ll have to touch you.”
Darcie realized she had a chance. “Yes,” she said. “Do what you need to do.” If he was going to leave, she wouldn’t do anything to provoke him. But that resolve became much weaker when the hand on her stomach moved up and began stroking the underside of her breast.
“Oh, God,” Darcie whimpered.
“I told you, I’m just checking,” said the heavy voice of the man. “You’ve got amazing breasts. I bet you could sustain twins on these breasts. That’s just how a healthy mother should be.”
The way this man spoke about her body horrified Darcie, but a part of her could not help but feel proud. She had received so little praise in her life that being told she was a good brood mare for some stranger was an ego boost, even while the man squeezed and hoisted her breast in his powerful fingers.
The intruder let go of her arms and slid his other hand along the curve of her back, around to Darcie’s ribs, and down to her waist.
“And these hips,” he said, gripping her there. “These are the kind of round, wide hips a mother needs to bear a child.”
I could run. He’s not holding my arms.
She gently shifted her arms to test the man. He kept his hands on her breast and hip.
But he said he’d let me go. I’ll just let him finish.
The hand on her breast reached over, pulling her closer as it took possession of the other boob. His lower hand slid down the outside of her shorts, pressing against Darcie’s thighs as it descended to the hem.
Unable to keep the panic from setting in, her breathing became more rapid.
“Easy, Darcie.” He kissed her ear and the back of her neck, his warm breath raising the tiny hairs on her skin. “I told you, I’m just checking up on you tonight.”
He bunched up the edge of her shorts in his fingers, raising the garment higher. When it was all the way to her panties, the stalker pressed his palm against the inside of her thigh and brought the edge of his hand right against the cleft of Darcie’s pussy, only the flimsy cloth of her panties separating skin from skin.
Darcie’s eyes were rolling back from the stress, her head tilted up to the ceiling as she tried to lift her mind away from what was happening. What she was allowing to happen.
“So soft,” said the man as he circled the outside of her pussy lips with his fingers. He breathed, “Oooohhh,” and cupped her there. He pressed his hand into her, raising feelings of lust and erotic pleasure.
Why does this feel so good? I shouldn’t be letting him do this. He doesn’t even have a weapon.
The man brought his lower hand back behind him and Darcie hear a metallic scraping sound. He had a knife! She stiffened, ironically bringing her hand up to grasp the stalker’s forearm like a little girl squeezing a teddy bear for security.
What the man produced, however, was a slim, shiny glass rod, about four inches long. He brought it below her skirt and eased one end into the leg of her panties.
Darcie spoke. “You said— you said you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“I won’t. I’m just taking your temperature. Like a doctor.”
Why does he need my temperature?
The cool tube of the thermometer slid along the outside of Darcie’s pussy crease. It bumped her clitoris, sending a shiver of enjoyment through her body. The stalker circled the thermometer deeper and deeper into her, until his fingertips were actually against the skin of her labia, holding the instrument inside her. The feel of being penetrated, even by something so small, was thrilling for Darcie. It almost made her wish for something larger and warmer and more alive.
They waited like that for an eternity, the man behind her casually fondling Darcie’s breast while she held his arm nervously.
Eventually, he pulled the little thing out, sending a small dose of regret through Darcie. The contact had been intriguing in its own way.
“Ah, perfect,” he said, holding the thermometer up in the faint light coming through the window. “Your ovulation is right on track. When I come back, your body is going to be eager and fertile for what I want to put in it.”
No, not this again. What is wrong with him? And why did he pick me?
“Listen to me, Darcie,” whispered the intruder. “I’m going to let you go now. I’m going to count to a hundred and turn the lights back on. You stay right where you are and I’ll be gone before you know it.”
“Okay,” she said, quietly.
He began to ease his body away from her, his arm coming free in front. Darcie actually had to remind herself to let his arm go, she was clutching it so tightly.
Why did I feel safe holding him? He’s the one trying to hurt me!
Darcie sensed him go still almost as soon as he stepped away. After a beat, he said, “I wish...” He pulled her back against him, his arm back around her breasts.
She gasped in fright.
He said, “You’re so amazing. I see you walking around, trying to be a good girl for your parents and for your church folks and you look so unhappy. I always think to myself, ‘I can put a smile on her face. If I only had a chance. I could give her my seed and that will make her life meaningful.’ I’ve never been this close to someone I loved before.” He nudged his nose into her hair and breathed in. “I know I said I wouldn’t do anything tonight, but now that I’m here—”
“Oh, God, please leave! You said you would go.”
He sounded hurt when he answered her. “You really want me to go?”
“Yes,” she sobbed.
“I’ll leave, but I need to give myself a little treat first.” Darcie heard the sound of him unzipping. “Don’t worry, Darcie. I won’t put it in your pussy. Maybe just—”
“Listen,” said Darcie. “I’m not ovulating yet, right?”
“No,” he said.
“Well, if you’re serious about getting me pregnant, you need to wait. And if you do anything before then, you’ll be wasting your sperm, right? You need to save your, ah, seed for making me pregnant, don’t you?”
He put a finger gently under Darcie’s chin. “You’re so thoughtful, looking out for our babies even before we’ve conceived them.” The zipper went back up. His hands left her and soon so did his heavy scent.
Darcie was alone.
She picked up the phone and dialed 9-1, then stopped. If the police show up, sirens blaring, and there’s no one here, Dad is going to be pissed. Her father was very sensitive to what other people thought about his family and he also hated having his time wasted. Darcie decided not to even call him at the mayor’s party and set the phone back down.
Darcie finally fell asleep after midnight and dreamed horrible things: She was walking around with a swollen belly while a tall, strong man held her hand. Dozens of children were playing games around her, calling her ‘Mommy’. Each boy and girl was beautiful in a different way, but when Darcie looked up at the man holding her hand, there was only a blank gray blur with a demonic smile.
***
At breakfast the next morning, Darcie told her parents about the intruder. She did not mention the notes or the balloons, because that would reveal that she’d been holding back. She only told them that the man said he was coming again the next day.
At first, they dismissed it all as lies and told her to get dressed. It was Sunday and they were too focused on church to really get mad at her. But her father had a problem with his electric shaver and ended up checking the circuit box in the basement. That’s where he found the muddy footprints.
He called the police.
Officer Snotleak came to the house in response.
Well ‘Snotleak’ was what the other kids had called him in high school. Darcie could not recall ever speaking to him, since he had been a few years ahead of her. She had never learned his real name. The tag on his uniform said ‘Smolek.’
Back then, he had been a pimple-faced, gangly kid who hung out in corners. Joining the police had changed him: His dark-blue shirt was stretched across a thick, strong-looking chest and his short sleeves revealed toned biceps. His skin had cleared-up too and now he was actually handsome.
“Hello Darcie,” he said, sitting with her in the kitchen. He’d asked her parents to leave for the interview. “Your father said you saw this intruder?”
His voice surprised her. It was pure American. One of the reasons he’d been an outcast in high school was his fresh-of-the-boat Eastern European accent. He must have worked hard at fixing that too.
“Darcie?” he said after a few seconds of silence, his blue eyes showing worry under his floppy dark hair.
“I didn’t see him. He stood behind me.”
“Did you get any sense of his appearance, say his height?”
“He was tall. And he was strong” Darcie remembered the feel of his hands on her. “When he—”
“When he what?”
She looked at the doorway to the living room.
“Your parents can’t hear you,” Officer Smolek said. “Did this man touch you inappropriately?”
“Yes.”
The policeman took her hand in his and said, “Listen, Darcie, you have to be honest with me. This is too important to worry about what your parents think, okay? I’ll try to keep as much of it from them as I can, but you have to tell me the truth.”
Darcie nodded her acceptance.
“Darcie, have you had contact with this man before?”
“He’s been sending me notes. He’s been saying for a week that he’s got plans for me today.”
“Today?” Officer Smolek said. “How can you be sure?”
She told him about the balloons. There was one red balloon flying above the woods that morning.
Afterward, the cop said, “I think the most important thing is for you to be protected. I’m going to ask my chief to station me at your house tonight.”
“Thank you.” It was strange how secure Darcie felt with this guy she barely knew. His goodness seemed to just shine through. Or maybe she was imagining things in her desperation for help?
Since the police were going to be on guard, Darcie’s parents went out that night to a barbecue at the pastor’s house. Officer Smolek parked his patrol car right in the driveway. “It’s better we scare him off than risk a fight,” he said.
With every light in the house burning, Darcie waited in her room. It occurred to her that if the stalker cut the electricity it would not matter how many switches she’d turned on, but Darcie needed the assurance. She tried to study for her biology test the next day, but every stray sound made her think she was being attacked.
She could picture the stalker coming behind her and grabbing her like before. Darcie imagined him ripping her clothes to shreds and pressing her face-down in her bed and pulling down her— Or maybe he would strike as she showered, bracing her against the tile wal
l and screwing her until he came inside her, making her pregnant with his child.
The worst part for Darcie was how these thoughts made her feel. Her pussy tingled in delight at the frightful images. Why was she turned on? It didn’t make sense.
At about ten, she dropped off a cup of coffee for Officer Smolek. He took it with a happy smile. She wondered why she never met any men like this. So full of brightness and positivity.
“Thank you so much for doing this,” she said. “I— This is embarrassing, but I’ve never learned your name. Your first name I mean, because— I know I should know it, but...” She smiled sheepishly. “I don’t.”
“It’s Dushan,” he said. “And don’t worry about the name thing, Darcie. High school was a different time. A different world, really.” For just an instant, Darcie saw darkness on his face. She bet all those memories of being bullied made it hard to stay positive.
“Call me Darcie,” she said. “I prefer that with my friends.”
“Sure,” he said, smiling again. “Darcie.”
She took the empty cup and turned for the house. After two steps, she stopped and looked back, a sudden braveness in her. “Listen, Dushan, maybe we can go out some time and talk about the old days.”
“Absolutely not,” he said. “I don’t want to talk about the old days. They sucked.”
Darcie panicked. She had only meant it as a figure of speech, but she should have realized—
Dushan was actually smiling. He said, “If it’s a date you’re looking for, though, that’d be great. I’ll call you when I have a night off.”
Darcie smiled as she fell asleep that night.
***
In the morning her misery returned.
“Mom, you can’t just leave me,” Darcie wailed.
“This trip has been planned for months,” said her mother. “Your boogieman turned out to be one of your pranks, so-”
“It wasn’t a prank. The police believe me.”
“Don’t interrupt your mother again,” said her father. “As for the police, Officer Smolek told me this morning about your supposed countdown stalker and his balloons. Which explains why your mother found this receipt for a packet of party balloons when she did your laundry.”
