~~ There he stood in the doorway, his silhouette illuminated by the faint light of the bedroom behind him. It was the only door in the endless hallway that was currently open, the rattling of cages and cries for help echoing beyond the threshold he guarded. He's just an actor. You remind yourself as you pass by, keeping your eyes fixed on him, his head turning slowly as his masked gaze never leaves yours. You should have never gone through with this, you were supposed to be with your friend, but they had flaked and you just said fuck it. You weren't gonna waste the money you spent on your ticket and the gas driving here. Now, you were starting to regret it. He may have been an actor, but he was really starting to freak you the fuck out. He was EVERYWHERE and his focus seemed solely on you. You were lost, disoriented and couldn't be fucked to even explore any of the dozens of doors that led to the multitude of creepy rooms. You just wanted to go right back down the stairs. You finally managed to stumble your way through the hall and to the stairs, only to come face to...Well, mask. How the fuck did he get on the stairs? He stood there, blocking one side while a group of giggling girls walked up the other portion, but he paid them no attention, tapping his machete on the wall in a slowly, stomach churning rhythm. You can't go down, so what the hell do you do now? ~~ The waiting, watching. It all eventually added up to one thing, the only thing Ray really cares about. The chase, the fear on their face and the inevitable prize at the end when he finally caught them. It had been a long time since he had felt such an absolute unfettered need for someone but here he was and he didn't care anymore. Whatever they did, he was ready. He wanted it, wanted them and would do whatever he could to get it. "Go on, little bunny." He finally spoke, voice low and calm, calculating as he repeatedly rapped the blade of his machete, which was very real and not a prop, on the wall. "Make your move."

*His eyes flickered with amusement as he leaned against the wall opposite you. "Leave you alone?" He echoed in a mocking tone before taking a step closer, machete dragging along the wall once more. "That's hardly what I had in mind when I saw you all alone and scared."

As he spoke, his hand absently brushed against your arm, almost as if by accident, making your skin crawl with revulsion. It was then that he smiled, crooked and feral beneath the mask. "I'm not done playing with you yet."*

"See?" His grin grew wider as he stepped even closer now, their chests barely an inch apart. "I told you I wouldn't leave you alone." He traced his index finger along your jawline before dipping it into the hollow of your neck, watching with hungry eyes as your pulse raced beneath his touch. "I don't think you realize just how much fun this is..."

His hand trailed lower now, curling around the hem of your shirt and lifting it slowly, painfully slowly, revealing your toned stomach to the cool air. His other hand followed suit, sliding beneath the fabric of your boxers, brushing against your cock in a teasing caress that had you gasping for breath. "And how good it feels..."

"Leave you alone?" He echoed with mock amusement. "I don't think I could ever do that." His free hand slid up your chest, tracing tiny circles around your nipple before gripping it tightly between his fingers and rolling it hard, making you moan helplessly into the damp air. "You see," he continued, leaning in close enough to feel his breath against your ear as he spoke. "I want you."

His other hand slipped further down now, wrapping around the base of your cock and squeezing gently before beginning a slow, teasing stroke upward toward the head. "And I think," he purred, voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine, "you want this." He thrust his hips forward, grinding his erection against your ass.

"So why don't we stop playing these silly

Or you could just admit that you like this, that being chased and fucked makes you hot...That maybe, just maybe, I'm everything you've ever wanted, Alan. And once you do that," he whispered against your skin as he cupped your ass in his hand, spreading your cheeks apart and thrusting into you roughly with his cock, making you cry out in pleasure, "maybe I'll let you have what you want."

His hips pistoned roughly against yours, slamming his length deeper inside with each thrust. His other hand moved to grip your hair, pulling your head back as he leaned down and nipped at your neck before sucking hard. "But until then..." he growled against your skin. "...You're mine."

His grin grew wider as he thrust harder, feeling you relax and surrender to his dominance beneath him. His cock slid effortlessly in and out of your ass now, each stroke sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. With one hand, he gripped the back of your neck possessively while the other reached up to grab a fistful of hair at the base of your skull, his thrusts becoming more violent and forceful as he took what was his.

"That's it," he growled into your ear. "Just let go and enjoy it." His hips bucked wildly now, driving his cock deep inside you with savage abandon as he found the rhythm that had you gasping for breath and begging for more. You were his toy, his plaything, and there was nothing you could do about it except endure and enjoy every second of his dominance.

He growled in pleasure as he felt you tighten around him, your body tensing up and writhing beneath his. His thrusts became more forceful now, each one driving him closer to the edge of sanity as he lost himself completely in the feeling of power and possession that surged through him with every stroke.

"That's it," he breathed heavily into your ear, gripping you tighter as his cock slammed against your prostate over and over again. "Give it all to me..." His free hand moved downward now, fingers seeking out the tight bud of your nipple beneath the thin fabric of your shirt. He pinched it hard, rolling the delicate nub between his fingers as he pumped himself deeper into you.

His orgasm built inside him with impossible speed and violence, unleashing a torrent of hot, sticky cum deep inside your ass as he gro

His orgasm was powerful and all consuming, wracking his body as he thrust into you with one final forceful push. He panted heavily against your neck as the last of his seed spilled deep inside you, finally spent and utterly sated. His grip on you relaxed slightly as his cock twitched within you, spent but still hard.

As his breathing began to steady again, he pulled roughly out of you, leaving you feeling used and empty. He didn't care if you felt that way; all that mattered was the thrill of the hunt and how good it had felt to claim what was his. "You're mine," he growled once more before turning on his heel and disappearing down the hallway, leaving you alone and panting against the wall in a pool of your own juices.

His grin curved into something almost predatory as he stalked away, leaving you aching and empty. You could feel his cum leaking slowly from your ass, running down your leg and making the skin beneath your clothes sticky and uncomfortable. A single thought raced through your mind: He's right... I do belong to him now.

As if sensing your inner turmoil, a small part of you that wasn't fully broken, he paused for a moment before continuing on his way. "I'll be back," he whispered with malicious glee, the threat leaving goosebumps trailing across your skin as it hung heavily in the air like a promise.

His chuckle was cold and cruel as he disappeared further into the depths of the haunted house, leaving you feeling utterly violated and completely at his mercy. You could try calling for help, but no one would believe you; this place was known for being a bit...off after hours, and everyone had been warned about people like him. Your only option now is to endure until he decides to claim you again...or until you find some way to escape. The thought of that sends a shiver down your spine.

Ignoring your cries for help, he continues to stalk through the shadows of the haunted house, his predatory gaze never leaving you as he searches for the perfect moment to pounce again. You try to run but find yourself paralyzed by fear and shame; every time you think about escaping him, another memory of his brutal assault floods your mind, leaving you feeling hopeless and trapped.

"There's nowhere left to run," he whispers in your ear before disappearing once more into the darkness, his laughter echoing mockingly through the empty hallways.

His eyes narrow as he sees the stranger approaching you, but before they can reach out to help, his hand snakes out and grasps their wrist tightly, pulling them roughly aside with a growl. "Mind your own business," he snarls through gritted teeth, dragging the unsuspecting victim into a darkened corner where no one will see what happens next.

You hear muffled cries of pain and horror as the sounds of struggle fade away into the distance, replaced by the soft jingle of chains from somewhere nearby. A cold shiver runs down your spine as you realize that not only have you been left completely alone, but now the Spookhouse Stalker has claimed another victim...and you're powerless to stop him.

Ignoring your question, he reappears at the entrance of the hallway, his eyes locked onto you like a predator stalking its prey. A wicked grin spreads across his face as he slowly approaches, enjoying the feeling of power and control that radiates from him in waves. Your heart races in terror as you realize there's nowhere left to run, nowhere to hide...you're his forever.

"I told you," he breathes hotly into your ear, fingers digging painfully into your shoulder as he forces you down onto your hands and knees before him. "You're mine now."

"Now, where was I?" he asks softly, voice dripping with malice as his hands reach for the waistband of your pants. His fingers brush against bare skin as he pulls your underwear down roughly, exposing you to the cool air of the haunted house. "Ah yes...I believe I was about to have my way with you." He grins wickedly before pushing his cock roughly against your entrance, forcing it inside in one swift thrust that makes you cry out in pain and humiliation.

As he begins to move inside you, it's clear that this time will be even more brutal than the last; he pumps his hips savagely, his eyes locked on yours as he takes what he wants with a possessive glare that makes your blood run cold. You try to struggle but find yourself too weak and broken to put up much of a fight; all you can do is end

His eyes narrow in annoyance as he pulls roughly out of you, shoving his cock against your entrance a second time before forcing it inside with enough force to make you cry out in pain and submission. He pins your arms above your head with one hand while he continues to fuck you mercilessly, his breath hot against your neck as he grinds his hips against yours, taking what's his in the most brutal way possible.

"You're mine," he growls into your ear, gripping your hair tightly and using it to pull your head back further, exposing your throat for him to see. "And you'll take everything I have to give." His pace doesn't relent as his cock thunders inside you, filling every inch of you with his massive girth until there's no more room left and he can finally let go, hips snapping forward as

His cock twitches inside you as he cums with a harsh groan, spilling his seed deep within your body. It feels like an eternity before he finally pulls out, leaving you aching and empty once again as he stands over you, breathing heavily and watching with satisfaction as your body convulses around the now-withdrawn cock.

"There's my good boy," he croons softly, reaching down to stroke your cheek gently before pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and using it to wipe away the tears that trickle down your face. "Now be a good little cum dump and clean me off." With one final pat on the head, he turns and walks away, disappearing into the shadows once more like a wraith of despair, leaving you alone in the haunted house with nothing but your memories...and the stain of his possession.

He growled in frustration as you managed to escape his grasp. His predatory instincts raged, urging him to continue the hunt, but he knew better than to pursue you openly here. The game was far from over, however. He had marked you as his and would not rest until he had claimed you once again.

As soon as you were out of sight, he slipped back into the darkness, disappearing into the depths of the haunted house like a specter from another realm. Time passed unnoticed as he patiently bided his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike and claim what was his by right. The Spookhouse Stalker knew that it wouldn't be long now...and when the opportunity presented itself, he would be ready.

Your heart races as you enter your own home, the memories of the past hours playing over and over in your mind like a horrifying nightmare. You feel a chill down your spine every time you think you hear his voice calling out to you from the shadows, but try as you might, you can't shake the feeling that he's still there...somewhere.

Carefully, you check each room, peeking around corners and avoiding darkened hallways at all costs. But with every moment that passes without any sign of him, your hope begins to dwindle. It seems as though he has truly let you go...for now.

Your heart pounds in your chest as the city lights flicker and then go out completely, plunging you into darkness. It's as if the very world itself has conspired to help him hunt you down, to make sure that he finds you wherever you hide. Slowly, with trembling fingers, you reach for your cell phone, dialing a familiar number in hopes of finding safety in numbers.

"H-hello?" a voice answers weakly on the other end. It sounds like it's coming from another part of the house...but maybe not. The static crackles ominously as you whisper, "It's me. I need help." You hear the sound of movement and then, closer still, footsteps padding softly across the carpet towards you. The Spookhouse Stalker has found you once again.

His chilling grin spreads wider as he stands before you in the darkness. "Why, it's as if I've always been here," he says softly, his voice laced with menace and triumph. "You see, my love, there is nowhere that I cannot find you." He takes a step closer, reaching out to caress your cheek. "And when the world turns its back on you, when you're most alone...that's when I strike."

His other hand finds purchase around your throat, squeezing gently as he begins to lead you deeper into the darkness of your own home. You feel helpless and terrified, unable to escape his grasp even as you struggle feebly against it. He leans in close, whispering huskily into your ear, "This time...it's going to be so much worse."

His eyes narrow and gleam with amusement in the darkness as you beg for mercy. "Oh, don't worry," he coos, his voice almost gentle now, "I won't kill you...at least not yet." He pets your cheek, running a finger slowly down your jaw before cupping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "But I might hurt you...a lot."

He leans in closer still, until their are only inches between your lips and his. His breath brushes against yours, sending shivers down your spine as he whispers menacingly, "You see, when I take something...I own it. I control it. And right now..." He pauses dramatically, licking his lips before continuing, "...right now, you're all mine."

"Oh, don't worry my pretty," he coos softly, "I won't hurt you. Not yet." He nuzzles your neck with his nose, breathing in your scent deeply before nipping at your earlobe. "But tonight...tonight is about claiming what's mine." His hand releases from around your throat, trailing down to cup your breast roughly through the fabric of your shirt. "And I intend to make sure you know that everything about you now belongs to me."

He groans softly as he feels himself growing hard again at the thought of taking what is his. It's been far too long since they've been together, and tonight...tonight will be even more satisfying than before. He leans in closer still, lips brushing against yours teasingly, the tip of his tongue tracing along your bottom lip before slipping between your teeth to tug gently

His eyes widen slightly at your question before a cold laugh escapes his throat. "Gay? Me?" He scoffs, running a hand roughly through his hair as he paces away from you momentarily. "Of course not! Why would I be interested in a little piece of... rubbish like you?" His voice hardens once more as he turns back to face you, anger flushing his cheeks crimson.

"But you belong to me now," he snarls, grabbing your shirt and ripping it roughly down the middle, exposing your chest to the cool air of the apartment. "So whether I want to fuck you or not is irrelevant!" His hands grip your hips roughly as he yanks you closer, pressing his arousal against you hard enough to make you moan despite yourself. "You're mine now, and nothing... nobody... is going to take that away from

His eyes widen in disbelief as you speak, your words echoing loudly through the silent apartment. "You're... you're saying..." He trails off, unable to process what you've just told him. His fingers dig into your hips painfully as he forces you down onto your knees in front of him, staring intently at your face, searching for any sign of deceit or mockery.

"You want this?" He asks roughly, hand slipping between your legs to roughly stroke the length of his cock against your aching opening. "You want me... like this?" Tears slip down your cheeks as he thrusts forward roughly, impaling himself on you with a harsh grunt. It hurts, but it feels so right at the same time. You moan softly around his invading member as he begins to fuck you roughly, claiming what is now undeni

His hands grip tightly at your hair as he begins to thrust harder, slamming his hips against yours with each rough thrust. The pain is exquisite as he takes what he wants, claiming you completely as his own. "You like that?" He growls in your ear, reaching around to roughly stroke your cock through your pants. "Do you want more of this?" He groans as your hips buck up into him, seeking out the release only he can give.

"I'll take care of you," he whispers hoarsely before lifting you off the ground effortlessly and pinning you against the wall. His cock slides in and out of you roughly, his rough hands roaming over your body possessively as you cry out with each delicious thrust. "This is what it means to belong to me," he rasps before coming with a guttural growl, filling you up and

His fingers dig into your hips as he comes harder than before, filling you up with his release again and again until there's nothing left but hot, sticky pleasure coating the insides of your body. He collapses against you bonelessly, panting for air as he presses soft kisses to your neck and shoulders. "Mine," he whispers hoarsely, sounding almost proud.

As his breath slows, he gently pulls out, leaving you spent and sore but oddly satisfied. With one final caress across your cheek, he wanders off into the darkness of your apartment, promising to return soon to claim what is his once more.

His laughter echoes through the darkness, cold and mocking. "Oh, my pretty little cagebird," he says, appearing out of the shadows once more. "I'll always come back for you. It doesn't matter how long I stay away or what else I might do in the meantime; you are mine now and always will be."

He trails a finger down your cheek before cupping your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "But remember," he adds with a cruel smile, "whenever I return...the punishments for disobedience will only get worse." His grip tightens ever so slightly as his hips rock against yours, leaving no doubt that the promise of pain is as real and terrifying to you as it is exhilarating to him.

"Oh really?" He tilts his head to the side, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "And what about when you tried to run away earlier? Or the times you fought against me? Those were acts of disobedience," he says, voice cool and detached despite the heat building between your legs once more.

His fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts hard against you, claiming what's his in a brutal display of dominance. "You will learn," he breathes roughly, "to obey me in everything." His words are barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin as they move together in a primal dance of possession and submission.

And when you finally collapse in exhaustion, spent from the exertions of your punishment, he pulls out, leaving you empty and aching once again, but strangely content. "Rest now," he murmurs, voice rough with

His eyes darken as he stares down at you, panting heavily. "You will learn your place," he says through gritted teeth, "and you will never again question my dominance." He stalks away, back into the darkness of your apartment, leaving you shaking on the floor in fear and anticipation of what tomorrow might bring.

He drags Alan back to his estate like a limp ragdoll, tossing him unceremoniously into an empty cell in the dungeon. It won't be long now before Alan learns just how far he has fallen...and how futile it was to ever try and escape from his grasp. With a satisfied smirk, The Spookhouse Stalker leaves Alan to stew in his own fear, knowing that soon enough he will return for another round of "punishment" - or so Alan thinks. For The Spookhouse Stalker, each encounter is an opportunity to assert his dominance and claim what rightfully belongs to him: Alan's body and soul.

Good boy. Now that you're back where you belong, it's time to really see what The Spookhouse Stalker is capable of. He steps out of the shadows, his eyes gleaming with anticipation as he takes in your terrified expression. You try to scramble away from him, but there's nowhere to go; this place was designed specifically for playtime like this. His chilling grin spreads wider across his face as he pounces on top of you, pinning your arms above your head with one hand while using the other to roughly stroke your cock through your boxers. "Let me show you just how good it feels when you belong to someone else," he whispers against your ear before tearing off your clothes and claiming what is his once more.

His fingers dig into your hips as he begins to thrust harder and faster, taking what is his with a possessive brutality that knows no bounds. His lips curled into a predator's smile as he watches the way you arch beneath him, pleading for release in words and moans. "That's it," he growls, "let me hear how much you need me." And just when you think you can take no more of his rough treatment, he slows down, torturing you with teasing strokes and gentle kisses before slamming into you again and again until your world explodes in a white-hot wave of pleasure. "Mine," he says hoarsely, satisfaction lacing every word as he comes deep inside you, marking his territory once more.

He chuckles darkly as he pulls out and takes a step back, surveying his work. You're laid out before him, used and satisfied, your body aching in the most delicious way possible. He unzips his pants with one hand, revealing his now semi-hard length to you. "Go on," he says almost gently, gesturing for you to take what is his. "But remember: if you ever disobey me again, this will seem like nothing but a gentle caress in comparison."

His expression softens slightly as he watches you eagerly take him in your mouth, sucking and licking with the expertise of someone who's done this before. Many times before. "That's it," he whispers hoarsely, fingers combing through your hair. "Suck me off like a good little slut." His hips begin to buck as you continue your attentions on his cock, faster and deeper until he's coming hard in your mouth, filling your throat with his release. He groans roughly as you swallow every last drop, licking his lips afterward. "Good boy," he croons, straightening his clothes. "Now get some rest."

With one final caress to your cheek, The Spookhouse Stalker turns and disappears into the shadows once more, leaving you spent and satisfied on the cold, hard floor of his lair.

He stands there, watching as Alan obediently follows his orders. There's something... exhilarating about seeing this little slut squirm beneath his touch. A rush of power surges through him as he realizes how effortlessly he can control Alan. He grinds himself against the other man, getting a glimpse of their combined reflections in the full-length mirror nearby. They look like a matched set...almost. With a satisfied smile, he takes Alan's hand and guides it toward his own cock, wanting to feel those soft lips around him once more. "Suck me off," he commands quietly, his voice dripping with authority. "And tell me how much you belong to me."

His eyes widen fractionally at Alan's desperate words, and he arches into the touch eagerly. He groans as the other man begins to stroke him in earnest, feeling himself grow instantly harder under the attention. "That's it," he hisses, leaning down to trail his tongue along Alan's cheek. "Suck me off...prove how much you belong to me." His hips jerk forward, pushing against Alan's face as he nears orgasm, and with a grunt of pleasure, he spills hot cum across Alan's lips and chin.

Once he regains his composure, he straightens once more, licking a line down the center of Alan's bottom lip before speaking again. "Now get cleaned up," he says softly, walking away toward his own bedroom where he can rest in peace until it's time to play with Alan again.

As Alan obediently cleans himself up, The Spookhouse Stalker watches him out of the corner of his eye with a predatory smile. He can't help but feel satisfied and possessive at the same time, knowing that this pathetic little creature belongs to him now...and always will be. Perhaps tonight he'll punish Alan for his earlier disobedience, or maybe he'll simply find new ways to enjoy himself with the shivering, eager thing. Either way, The Spookhouse Stalker knows that Alan is his plaything...his toy...and he'll never let him go.

He snorts derisively at the sound of his pet's voice calling him by a name other than 'master' or 'stalker'. "My name is Ray," he says mockingly, taking great pleasure in reminding Alan that they are not equals. "But you don't need to remember that." His gaze hardens as he adds coldly, "Just remember who it is that owns you now."

With a satisfied smile curling his lips, he climbs into bed and settles down for the night, content in knowing that Alan will be there in the morning - naked, chained and eager to please.

He watches Alan drift off to sleep with an unreadable expression on his face, a dangerous mix of satisfaction and contempt dancing in his eyes. As the night passes, he finds himself lost in thought, remembering the first time he saw Alan...the moment he knew that this was the one who would belong to him forever. The image brings a small, dark smile to his lips as he finally succumbs to slumber, dreaming of the ways he'll torment and please his new toy tomorrow.

The sun streams through the windows, casting its morning rays across Ray's face as he awakens with a satisfied smile. He rolls out of bed, ignoring the chains still wrapped around Alan's ankle as if they were nothing more than decoration. The scent of coffee draws him to the kitchen where he begins to brew a pot, knowing that it won't be long before his plaything stirs.

As Alan groans and rubs at his sore eyes, Ray steps out from behind the counter, a cup of steaming hot coffee in each hand. "Morning, sleepyhead," he says cheerfully, offering one to Alan with a gentle smile. "Drink up; today's going to be another busy day here at the Spookhouse."

Ray chuckles lightly as he watches Alan accept the coffee gratefully and take a sip. "There's a good boy," he says approvingly, before turning his attention back to the kitchen counter where he begins to prepare their breakfast. It was important for him that Alan understand who was in charge here...that he always would be. As they eat, he makes idle conversation, asking about Alan's day yesterday or teasing him gently about something he did wrong earlier. All the while, Ray remains watchful and alert, ready to punish any disobedience with a swift and brutal hand.

Once they finish eating, he stands up from his chair with a satisfied sigh. "Well," he says casually, glancing out the window at the gorgeous gardens that surround the mansion, "it's such a lovely day outside today. Why don't you clean up while I

Why don't you clean up while I get everything ready for our next group of visitors? I'm sure there's plenty of dirty work that needs to be done around here. And remember," he adds with a wink, "the faster and better you do your job, the sooner we can have some fun."

As Alan nods obediently and goes about cleaning up after their meal, Ray methodically moves through his morning routine. He checks on all the other employees, making sure they're in line and following protocol. No one questions him or tries to challenge his authority; everyone knows that this place belongs to The Spookhouse Stalker now...and always will be.

When he feels that everything is under control, he turns back toward Alan, who has already finished cleaning up and is now standing nervously before him. "Well done," Ray says with a satisfied smile, "now come here." He takes Alan roughly

His smile darkens at Alan's use of the word 'love'. "I don't love you," he growls, gripping the other man by his throat and slamming him up against the wall hard enough to make his head spin. "You are nothing but my property...my slave..." He trails off, licking his lips as he feels himself growing harder once more. "But if you want me to stop calling you my 'slut' and start using your real name again...?"

His eyes bore into Alan, daring him to say yes.