Happy Addiction

I can’t believe I’m doing it again and even as I’m saying it, I can’t escape the inevitable. Everyone has their addictions, obsessions or whatever else you want to call it. Me? I’m obsessed with a girl. A stalker was not on my “to-do” list of things. I don’t think anyone plans on doing that, if they do, they need some serious treatment. I never saw myself as someone who would ever obsess or stalk someone until I seen her.

From what I gather, her name is Evelyn foster, or as her friends call her ‘Eve’. She’s beautiful but she doesn’t stand out in a crowd. Black lush hair but contrasting light green eyes; I bet if she wanted to, she could easily be a social butterfly. She has the body for it too; all she needs is the attitude to go with it. I spoke to her once, that’s how this all started. No, I’m not blaming her for talking to me which is what some people do.

It was a frat party somewhere after the first few weeks of classes of my second year. If you thought that I’m some freak who is cast away from society, well then think again. I’m not part of a pretentious group nor do I eat my lunch at the reject table. So a few buddies and I decide to hit the party; we went there and it was as crazy as it gets. I was high and needed a break so I landed on the sofa. In my drunken haze I heard girls talking and turned to find the source. By the wall, there was a group of girls chatting, excited and all a little high. She stood at the back of the group laughing a little too much. Strappy top, tight pants; such a typical student.

I continued to watch her wondering what was so funny. After a few minutes she walked over with another towards the drinks. Impulsively I followed her and as she turned around with a full glass, she bumped into me. She began apologizing and trying to explain something but I wasn’t listening to what she was saying. I was listening to the sound of her voice. Squeaky, happy, perky but yet so apologetic. Before I was telling her for the second time that it’s okay, her friend pulled her away. But that didn’t seal the deal.

It was the next day when I seen her during lunch. She passed right by me and didn’t recognize me. She looked like she was nursing a hangover. She just sat there being so normal. I seen popular girls pass by her and they exchanged smiles. So she could easily fit in with those girls; be another girl with extra sparkles on everything. She had moderate friends and moderate clothes. I guess I could say I’m in some ways similar too but she isn’t trying to fit in.

I first saw her accidently in a few places. Then I started noticing her more. I casually asked a friend who knew almost everyone and she said that eve was a regular everywhere, she just wasn’t noticed. So I started noticing, more and more. I love watching how she fits in without fitting in. I might even be a little jealous but it’s too beautiful to watch so I don’t harbour the ugliness of that emotion.

As I continued ‘finding’ her in every place that she supposedly was already visiting even before I knew of it- the café, the library, she even came for the same shows at the pub that I did. It was too much to understand, how someone lives so happy and you just don’t even recognize them until you bump into them. How much more was I missing? How many more pretty faces and smiles have been surrounding me in every area of my life that I just didn’t realize because I’ve been so oblivious? And what started as casual ‘finding’ has turned into stalking. I want to follow her. I want to see what makes her tick. Why is she so happy anyway? I’ve seen other people be happy too but I haven’t come across anyone who had a smile on their face 24 x 7!

The day I saw her in the rain, was the day I committed to this. It rained and everyone ran for shelter- well, everyone but her. She sat there, trying to protect her stack of papers but she couldn’t, so she just shrugged her shoulders and smiled. Then she threw her hands up to the sky and gave it the finger, well at least we know she’s not miss innocent. That would be a spoiler. As I’m sitting here at the café and watching her in the opposite shop, I’m trying to rationalize my thoughts. I have no idea why I’m even doing this. Maybe I want to watch her world; watch that bubble that she lives in. It’s beautiful to see just how complete she is in it; I started stalking her compulsively,

I don’t have a terrible life but I do have temper tantrums at least. The maximum thing bad in my life is that I’m misunderstood by my family and feel like an outcast. Or maybe I’m just waiting to see her break. I think that’s it. I want to see her experience feelings like a normal person. It’s been 5 weeks now and I haven’t seen anything more than a temporary frown. She just is so at ease with herself. She doesn’t even have to try and make anything work. I think I’m jealous. Yes, I’m jealous of her ease, of her life, of her never ceasing smile. But I don’t want to see her get hurt either. Damn it. I need to talk to her. Yes, I’ve had up my mind.

She just got of the store and is waving goodbye to her friends with more bags than she can handle. It’s all from the same mediocre store. They leave her and she’s juggling bags on both hands as well as a hand bag and being her stalker and all, I know that her car is parked a few blocks ahead. Here’s my cue. I walk up to her with half a smile and she smiles back like she knows me her whole life. I think she’s embarrassed by her juggling skills. For a moment I thought she remembered me but there was no recognition in her eyes.

“Hi, you look like you need some help?”

“Could you please? My car is right around the bend.”

I nod and she hands over a few bags. I’m almost angry at her for being so naive. I’M A STALKER; DON’T TRUST ME! Well, almost angry. She continues to smile at me and I admit I’ve been waiting to see that smile directed at me and it’s like warmth on a rainy day. She tells me her name and I avoid telling her my name by asking her questions I already know the answer to; what’s your major, where are you from, are you enjoying the weather. She enjoys all weathers as I recall so I’m not surprised when she says yes. I don’t give her the time to ask me anything. I just keep shooting questions like she’s being interviewed. She looks a little baffled but she’s too polite to stop me. We finally reach her car and she starts loading it.

“Thanks again, err..?”

“Your welcome.”

And I walk away. I don’t want to give her details of my life, let alone my name. I want to be invisible to her in order to soak her up.

Here’s where some people might think this is creepy. She has a boyfriend. He’s a classmate of mine. I overheard him tell his friend that he wants to leave her; supposedly he isn’t that ready to settle down. I don’t know how to process this. I don’t want to see her get hurt but I want to see if she breaks. Anyway I can’t say anything to her so I just double up on stalking until I see it. I don’t have to wait long.

Her cocky boyfriend calls her away from her friends and breaks it to hurt. At first she’s expressionless; looking at him like as if he’s telling her the annual stock report. I think that this is it she’s going to break down. I’m contemplating consoling her but then I’ll have to explain why I think she should be okay when I’m not sure myself, either way she has friends for that. Now she’s nodding. Wait, why is she nodding? She looks almost as though she understands. She just hugged him! I don’t understand. She walks away and looking at his face I see that either does he understand. She goes back to her usual lunch table and all her friends pounce on her for answers. She gives them a sad smile, shakes her head and tells them what happened. I bet her version has ponies and unicorns because that’s how she’s taking it.

Now they’re hugging and reminding her of something. She’s telling them she’s okay and still has that sad smile. Why the hell is she still smiling! Can’t she cry or get angry or anything even a little negative? I’m fed up of stalking her. I can’t stand it anymore.” –

This is what I wrote in my diary two years ago. Not that I stopped. I stopped for two days and went back to it again. We graduated and I’m still stalking her; still haven’t said a word to her after that day. She’s interning at an accounting firm now and I own a book store just opposite it. At least I saw a sad expression from her once -someone threw something on her favourite blouse. I think I’ll stop when I understand her. I don’t want to talk to her nor do I love her. I just want to understand how someone could be this happy.




Jane looked around the room. She was bound and waiting for her partner to get off the phone and return to her before she lost her edge. Before she could remember why a sensible girl like her was being tied up with a stranger in the first place. She looked at the cuffs that bound her to the bed; pulling at it she realized that her partner was staring at her with lusty eyes and yes, he was deliberately taking his time to increase the suspense. Had she been like every other partner he had then it would have worked but in her case she just wanted to get over with it. This was after all her self induced therapy.

She felt dirty having to do this with a partner instead of a lover. She met her ’partner’ on a BDSM social site where her profile explained exactly what she wanted.
“In need of someone to tie me up and fuck me. First time so be nice”.

She couldn’t believe that she wrote that but it had to be done. She promised herself that she would find a way to make herself complete and this was it.

Momentarily her partner came back near her and run his hands ever so seductively along her body making her yearn for more. But just like that he left again and returned to his call. She was pretty sure she was wet enough to excite him or at least she hoped so. She was naked and couldn’t move her legs much due to bonds that held her captive, yet she tried to rub her legs together to cause a little friction. But of course that didn’t work; her legs were too far away from each other. She closed her eyes and tried to accept the situation. What other choice did she have?

At least she was certain that the guy she chose wasn’t a freak. She could guarantee it from his profile and the tools he laid out. A vibrator, a gag, a blindfold, nipple clamps and something else she couldn’t make out in the dim light; must be a riding crop but that was it. At least she was sure about that but that was all she was sure about.
When she first came across his proposal to fulfil her needs she felt optimistic. He was better in reality than the few photos he’d sent her. A rock hard body and a cock that could kill (she could tell from the bulge in his pants), it was perfect for fun and that was what she came for – fun. If she could allow herself to indulge in it. That was her fear. She had boys falling at her feet. She wasn’t a sexy beast but she was but she had an amazing personality which felt the guys coming. She couldn’t count the number of times men told her that she was the kind of woman they wanted to settle down with. But Jane was impossible to be with.
She was lucky enough to find not one but three guys who truly loved her and wanted to settle down with her. After a long relationship with each guy she eventually broke up; not because they cheated or hurt her but because she was incomplete. Jane loved back all three guys with all the love she could muster up but it wasn’t the commitment that was the problem. It was the sex. She was insatiable in the most insatiable sense. Jane was molested when she was small, by many people, in many situations, in many ways. She used to think that all of them were somehow connected and plotting against her. How else could a child feel when she gets molested that many times, even after changing cities? Unknown people, known people, drivers and even by a friend. She told no one about it until it all stopped. Well, it never really stopped, she still gets touched by men in a busy street or when descending a bus. Men were such clever creatures; they knew how to not be seen. So even though she carried around mace she never felt safe. All that time she wasted not telling anyone had taken its toll on her. The consequences were the worst. No matter how much she loved or trusted the guy, she just couldn’t have sex. She tried to though. Lost her virginity and tried masturbating too but it was no use. She’d get wet, to an extent but even before she could start the ‘deal’ she would start losing the feeling. By the time she was getting humped she would reach a point where she would just be waiting for it to end. Masturbation as even worst; she never felt more than 3minutes of pleasure and then it would feel pointless. What’s worst was that she never felt an orgasm. It happened to other girls too but this was different. She was robbed.
In the first two relationships she never told her lovers because at that time she didn’t understand why it was happening. Eventually she cut off from trying and broke up because she wanted them to have a better life. She felt like she was cheating. But later she found the third and thought about trying again. She convinced herself that she was younger before and didn’t enjoy sex the mature way. She got into a relationship and it happened again. This time she told the guy. He was patient and tried to help her; refraining from sex as much as possible until she was ready. With him she realized that her past did after all have an effect on her. But she became worst. She stopped kissing except for the usual peck or two but that was it. She tried again. The guilt of stopping someone she loved from having a full life killed her. She tried so hard to convince him to leave but he didn’t so she went back to her old ways and broke up without a proper reason. It killed her.
She wanted to heal so much and wanted to feel complete. She realized that there were few times when she actually felt something; when she indulged in being wild, when she indulged in BDSM. Those moments made her have hope. Being bound turned her on more than anything else could and she decided she was going to do it. She was going to heal herself.
And that’s what got her here now, on a strange man’s bed, tied to a bed.
He returned now and stared at her. Licking his lips, he bent down so close, hovering above her. ’This is it’ she told herself, I’m finally going to feel like how I should. She arched her back trying to tell him that she was ready. She read all about this. In fact, erotic romance was the only kind of books she read. Now it was happening. She’s in her twenties; of course now sex would be more mature, more real.
He bent down further and started a gentle kiss. At first she felt a little sick as usual but this handsome stranger was too sexy a kisser that she got lost in the twists his tongue made in her mouth. She responded with the same vigour. He slowly broke the kiss his eyes told her that it was time to start playing.
He stood up immediately and looked at her with dark brown eyes. He looked like he was about to attend a very important business meeting. She was awe struck.
She didn’t even realise when or how he took the cuffs off her feet.
“Now on you only do what I tell you to”
She bent her head she obediently said, “Yes master”
With a soft chuckle he asked, “Do you remember the safe word”?
She nodded.
“Say it”! He yelled
“Ha ha right. Master has a thing for cherries”
That’s when she noticed the bowl of cherries by the bed.
He followed her glace and looked back at her. He was all business again.
“Turn around, face down, ass up”
She did as instructed. He ran his hands along the cheeks of her ass. She closed her eyes trying to accept the feeling. Suddenly there was a noise and a burning sensation on her ass. She screamed and turned around, clearly not expecting that. She turned her head around and looked at ‘master’ with a riding crop in his hand. He noticed her looking and struck her harder. This time it really pained.
“That’s for turning around. I won’t repeat myself, FACE DOWN”!
She immediately hugged the pillow with her face. He continued to hold on to the ass and the sting which the pervious whack had left was replaced by a cold skilful tongue. Once he knew that she felt better, he went back into business mood. He couldn’t seem to get his hands off her ass.
“Shake your ass my little slut” and she did. First slowly but picked up the pace. She knew she couldn’t stop until he said so. All of a sudden there was another whack and few more but she didn’t stop. She aimed to please her master and frankly this wasn’t so bad. He never repeated the same spot. He smacked every spot of her ass and even the back of her pussy. Yes, she was wet and wanting more.
His hand forced her legs a little more apart and commanded her to stop. He picked up the rest of the tools and brought it closer. So he was going to use all the tools at once. She told him she can’t orgasm but she never told him why. He gently blindfolded her but she could tell that’s where the gentleness ended. Hands were felt all over her body. This did feel better than what she knew. It was like he was massaging her but quickly and harshly. All of a sudden it stopped and the hands on her breast were replaced by a sharp pain. It was bearable. Next her pussy was massage and something was going into her hole. It was a cherry. She could tell by the texture. Next she felt a tongue eating it out of her. It felt almost like how it was suppose it. She never felt it before but she understood that this must be how every normal girl felt. Giving in to the sensation, she started biting herself with an uncontrollable urge. Master then put a gag over her mouth. The slave must suffer.
She counted the cherries he ate out of her. 5, 6, 7, 8… Why’d he stop? Oh crap he’s trying to eat it out of her ass. She nearly laughed because she knew he wouldn’t succeed. She was too tight. She heard him curse and promise to get back to that soon. 9, 10, 11 and the last were 12.
The sensations felt real, almost like it should. She was for the first time, lost. Then came the vibrator. He first used it around her nipples; then her inner thighs, ass crack and finally her pussy. She was free to mourn any insensible thing into her gag. This was working. She was wet and ready. He knew it too. He set his vibrator up in a way to stay up and facing her pussy. It continued to coax her. She heard the rip of a packet and knew it was time. Carefully, not to knock the vibrator down, he bent to enter her. She was too tight. Suddenly she panicked. It couldn’t happen again. He tried to put his finger in but her hole was so tight that it hugged his finger. He said something about putting his dick into a trap and that he loved it. She relaxed. And opened up more to him. It’s been awhile since she had sex and that was all. With a little effort he pushed into her. Another push got him started on a steady movement. He humped her hard and the vibrator stayed on. He continued pushing hard and fast. It’s what she’s been craving and she let go of anything she was holding back. After about two minutes something changed. It didn’t feel as it should anymore. It felt like before. Her pussy stopped feeling sexy and now felt like a gynaecology test – Something was going on there but it wasn’t pleasure. Her breasts too just felt like it was being pinched. The vibrator tickled her. Now instead of the gag being a force to hush her mourns, it became a medium to hush her cry. Tears wet her blindfold and she felt hot and uncomfortable. Too late, the magic was lost. She kept her silence and waited for master to finish. No matter how hot mater was he just didn’t turn her on. In her mind she started making plans of how to get home. He never noticed the change. She begged him to finish in her mind and finally he did. He undid her bindings and looked happy. It tore at her. Before he could offer round two which he was definitely up for, she started dressing. He looked bewildered but said nothing. She kissed him and thanked him and said she enjoyed herself but “her husband would soon be home”. He believed it and she left. On her way home she deleted her ID from the site. Going back to her empty apartment, she felt even emptier inside. She didn’t need a BDSM partner to be bound – she’ll always be bound. Bound to her past and her incompleteness, forever.

Finding A Reason

Jason lay down in his room and closed his eyes. Well technically it wasn’t his room since he shared it with his little brother Jordan. Jason is 17 while Jordan is 10; Jason was your typical broken teenager and his height of companionship was his little brother (which spoke heaps about him). ‘Who had time for friends’? He thought. Moreover what did he have to offer a friend? His house was as broken as his soul and he could never afford to spend time together. Even worst, he wasn’t ready to show anyone what hell existed in his home; if you should all it that. In fact that’s the reason he’s in his room right now, because they were at it again… Mom and dad were equally drunk and unemployed. If dad could just stay in a job without causing a fight, if mom could just stop whining and do something about it then maybe they wouldn’t be having such a hard time paying the rent. Or at least if they could stop drinking. If wishes were pennies then he would be rich.

As he laid down deep in thought, he heard a noise in the kitchen. It wasn’t an aggressive noise but a mistake. Sibling instincts kicked in immediately and he ran to the kitchen to find little Jordy in tears because he dropped his plate. Jason cleared it up without a word and served his own lunch. He took it along with Jordy quietly to their bedroom, trying so hard to avoid the mumble of verbal abuse that escaped their parents lips, not really directed at them or each other or anything for that matter.

Jason sacrificed his lunch to his only friend. Yes he never ate yesterday but its okay. In fact he only wished the food was better so that Jordy didn’t have to put up with it. He went back to his prior position feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.

While other students were thinking about universities, he was looking out for a part time job. He knew he couldn’t go to a fancy place and have the college life he’d seen in movies. No. This was his reality. His only thoughts were too earn, save and move out. But of course, he saw no point in it. Surviving for no reason was the emptiest part of his life. Yes he did try to end it all; he has the scars to prove it. But every time he was close to relief, he either chickened out or pictured the eyes of little Jordy looking at his dead body. Who would look after him then? Who would protect him? Who would give him hope? Even though Jason was a picture of negativity, he tried his hardest to show Jordy the way to cope. Cope with misery even though he didn’t understand it. After all Jordy was the only one who smiled in that family and it was a gesture worth looking forward to. Jason couldn’t ruin that. But that still left him with no reason for himself.

Preoccupied in his thoughts he almost ever heard Jordy calling him.


“yeah, Jordy”?

“I think it fell”

“What are you talking about”?

“toot” , he said holding up the off-white tooth with a scared expression.

Jason was too mesmerized by his cuteness to reply. At the same time he felt a sharp twang of fear himself; a fear of Jordy facing the real world someday.

“Jay, could we pease sleep earlier”?

“Sure squirt. Why”?

“This is my last toot”


“The toot fairly gives more money for the last toot! Eveybody knows that Jay”! And Jordy ran to his pillow to hide his treasure.

Jason’s face turned pale. He wasn’t sure if he could afford it. He had just enough for essentials and now he’d just have to do without it.

When Jordy was fast asleep, Jason slowly slipped the money under his pillow. Jordy moved a bit and Jason froze. The last thing he wanted was Jordy’s imagination getting ruined like his was. It took Jason years to realize that no one would give him money for teeth; when he asked his mother about it, all she did was laugh. When he was certain that Jordy wouldn’t wake, he finally slipped back into bed and cried like he did always did.

The next morning Jason woke up to Jordy jumping up and down his bed. Maybe now he could buy the kind of sweets he always wanted.

“jay! Jay! Look! The toot fairly gave me money”. Under the old sheets which covered his face, Jason smiled. Any amount of money is not worth this happiness.

“Look, Jay, Look”! Jason looked at Jordy knowing just what would happen.

“5 whole bucks”!

“Wow the tooth fairy must really like you”!

“You really think so”?

“Sure do”


Jordy couldn’t stop beaming and Jason knew that this sight was enough to get him through any day. All of a sudden Jordan calmed down and frowned as if he was in serious thought. He turned and handed Jason the money.

“I wan you to have it”. Jason just stared at him.

“Why”? Was all he could muster up and say.

“Ah, I don’t know, you’re my big brother and I want you to have it”.

“But don’t you want it”.

“Naw, I got you”.

Jason realised that he was looking at his reason to live. This human who was part of him and always will be. Jason took the money and made a mental note to stop by the candy shop. Now his plan was finally clear. Earn, save and give Jordan a chance at a better life. It’s worth it because he realised that he’d do anything for this boy, even just survive.