Dark Obsession

[Orgasmic.Goddess]

My aim is to make this a rich story with some depth to it, but I want to make it an easy read too. The first couple of parts will be establishing characters and the setting before delving deeper into kinky themes. It may get darker later, so I've posted in the R18 section. If you enjoy the story, please considering clicking the thanks button at the end of the post. Cheers.

Part One: Dreams and a Cardigan.

Olivia stepped into the sleek glass-and-steel lobby of Brand Dynamics, her heels clicking against the polished floor. Just months ago, she’d graduated with a degree in marketing, and now, here she was—living her dream of working in branding and design. Her contributions at Brand Dynamics had been impressive. She dove into branding and design projects, her marketing skills shining through. Olivia quickly became an indispensable part of the team. Her colleagues admired her dedication and creativity, and senior staff began to notice her potential.

Olivia possessed an intriguing blend of innocence and allure. She wondered what others saw when they looked at her. Did they notice the fire behind her eyes, the hunger for success? Or did they dismiss her as just another fresh-faced graduate, eager but inexperienced? Sarah, the auburn-haired receptionist, looked up from her computer screen, flashing a friendly smile.

“Olivia,” Sarah leaned in conspiratorially, “you’re needed on the 23rd floor today.”

Olivia blinked in surprise. The 23rd floor? That wasn’t her usual floor.

"Here, let me take your access card so I can add access to that floor for you..."
Sarah quickly updated Olivia's access before handing back her card.

“Mr. Harrison wants to see you,” Sarah continued. “New project, so I hear. Exciting stuff.” Sarah gave Olivia a playful wink.

Olivia’s heart raced. She hadn’t expected this—certainly not so soon. She wondered what Mr. Harrison, the senior account manager, wanted from her. Would he appreciate her fresh ideas, her eagerness to impress? Perhaps he’d notice her curves—the way her pencil skirt hugged her hips—adding a subtle sex appeal to her otherwise professional demeanor.

As the elevator ascended, Olivia caught her reflection in the mirrored walls. Her blue eyes widened with anticipation, and her chestnut hair cascaded around her face like a soft halo. Olivia’s lips, naturally rosy, curved into a hesitant smile. She had yet to master the art of confidence, but her determination shone through. Olivia’s choice of clothing was deliberate. The pencil skirt, hugged her hips with precision. It elongated her legs, emphasising their slender elegance. She adjusted her blouse, wondering if it was too low-cut. She knew that appearances mattered, especially in a world where first impressions could open doors or slam them shut.

The elevator doors opened, revealing Mr. Harrison standing in the foyer. His salt-and-pepper hair was fashionably styled, and his slim-cut trousers hinted at a discerning eye for fashion. But it was the unexpected touch—the deep burgundy cardigan—that set him apart. Olivia’s nerves intensified. She extended her hand, and his hand-shake was firm on her delicate hand.

“Olivia? Great to meet you,” he said. “Come, follow me. I’d like you to meet the rest of the team.”

Olivia trailed behind him, her mind racing. The glass-walled conference room held a mix of senior staff and fresh faces. She was the youngest—an outsider—but would they accept her? Mr. Harrison outlined the project—a prestigious hotel chain rebranding, design, and marketing campaign. Their target? A younger, trendier clientele in the age of social media influencers. Olivia listened, her imagination already spinning with possibilities.

After the meeting, Mr. Harrison led her to her new desk—a sleek workspace by the window. Wellington Harbour stretched before her, the water shimmering under the morning sun. Olivia’s heart swelled. This was her chance to make her mark.

As Olivia settled into her new workspace, she got to know the team better. The seasoned veterans—James and Emma, the no-nonsense graphic designers—welcomed her with smiles and nods. They’d seen countless fresh faces come and go, and she knew she had to win them over.

The office buzzed with activity. Olivia’s desk neighbour, Alex, tapped away at a keyboard, creating magic. She admired his work ethic, wondering if she’d have to match it. Across the room, Lisa—the resident wordsmith—scribbled notes on a whiteboard. Olivia caught glimpses of phrases like “brand essence” and “authentic storytelling.” The staff kitchen and lounge became Olivia’s sanctuary. She brewed coffee while engaging in friendly conversations. Sarah, the receptionist who’d first tipped her off about the 23rd floor, shared office gossip. Olivia learned that James secretly collected comics, and Emma had a thing for jazz. These tidbits humanised her colleagues, making them more than just coworkers. Olivia’s encounters with Mr. Harrison continued. He’d pop by her desk, discussing strategy or sharing anecdotes from his early days in the industry.

In the bustling office, Olivia moved through her days, blissfully unaware of the quiet presence nearby. His footsteps were soft, as he unassumingly navigated the office floor, casually passing near her desk. She never noticed him, too engrossed in her own world of deadlines and design concepts. Sometimes, when she stepped into the elevator, he was already there. His gaze never met hers when she looked in his direction; it remained fixed on the doors. He noted the floral scent of her perfume.

On a break, standing by the window facing the harbour, Olivia was lost in thought as she stared out at the light mist over the water. Nearby, he stared too, but his gaze wasn’t on the water. It was on her—the curve of her profile, the way she held her coffee cup up to her lips. Olivia’s morning ritual included a trip to the communal coffee machine. She’d pour herself a cup, inhaling the rich aroma, taking in the harbour views, and then retreat to her desk. The unknown co-worker followed suit, his timing impeccable, albeit on random days to avoid suspicion. He studied her like an artist observing a muse.

[Vodin30]

i like it, for me the details were perfect. i was able to vividly picture the scene and put it all together. i could have been another unassuming, unseen co-worker in the office.


looking forward to the next installment

[Sander_Kik]

Wow. What a great first part! Really well-written and great to get to know the characters a bit. I can’t wait for the next part(s).

[Orgasmic.Goddess]

Part Two: Tossed Salads and Scrambled Eggs

Olivia reclined across the couch in the cozy office of Dr. Sharon Fieldstone, her therapist. The room was warm and inviting, with soft lighting and comfortable chairs and cushions. Various artworks decorated the walls. Olivia, dressed in her usual casual attire of white sneakers, black tights, and a white hoodie, fidgeted nervously. Her chestnut hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but several strands had escaped, framing her face. Olivia's eyes met Dr. Fieldstone's across the room. Olivia’s eyes were a striking shade of bright blue. They seem to hold a depth of emotion, reflecting both innocence and determination. Dr. Fieldstone smiled gently at Olivia from her chair opposite.

“How are you feeling today, Olivia?”

Olivia sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Honestly, Dr. Fieldstone, I’m feeling pretty hopeless. The stress at work is just… overwhelming me.”

Dr. Fieldstone nodded, her expression compassionate. “Tell me more about what’s been going on.”

“It’s just this big hotel project,” Olivia began, her voice trembling slightly. “Mr. Harrison, my boss, is putting so much pressure on me to impress him. I feel like I’m constantly on the edge of failing. Every day, I wake up with this knot in my stomach, dreading what might go wrong.”

Dr. Fieldstone leaned forward, her eyes full of understanding. “That sounds incredibly tough, Olivia. It’s no wonder you’re feeling this way. What specifically is making you feel so pressured?”

Olivia took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “It’s everything. The deadlines, the constant changes, the fear that if I mess up, it’ll all come crashing down. I feel like I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I’m so scared of disappointing Mr. Harrison. He’s always such a perfectionist, and I just… I don’t know if I can handle it anymore.”

Dr. Fieldstone nodded again, her voice calm and reassuring. “It’s important to remember that you’re not alone in this, Olivia. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed, and it’s okay to ask for help. Have you talked to anyone at work about how you’re feeling?”

Olivia shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. “No, I haven’t. I’m afraid they’ll see me as weak or incapable. I don’t want to give Mr. Harrison any reason to doubt me.”

Dr. Fieldstone reached out, placing a comforting hand on Olivia’s arm. “You’re not weak, Olivia. You’re human. Everyone has their limits, and it’s perfectly normal to feel...afraid of being exposed and being vulnerable in front of others. It’s also important to.. take care of yourself. Have you been able to find any time for… self-care?”

Olivia wiped away a tear, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not really. I feel like I don’t have time for anything other than work at the moment.”

Dr. Fieldstone gave her a sympathetic smile. “I understand. But even small moments of self-care can make a big difference. Maybe try to carve out a few minutes each day to do something just for you, whether it’s a walk, reading a book, relaxing hot shower, something pleasurable, even just sitting quietly with a cup of coffee. It might help to alleviate some of the stress.”

Olivia nodded, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “I’ll try. Thank you, Dr. Fieldstone.”

After her therapy session, as Olivia was leaving the office, Dr. Fieldstone squeezed her arm gently. “You’re giving your best, Olivia, and that’s all anyone can ask of you. Remember to be kind to yourself. You’re stronger than you think.”

As Olivia stepped out of the office, a small but significant weight lifted from her shoulders. The winter air outside was cool and crisp. Dr. Fieldstone’s words ran through her mind, calming her anxieties, at least for now. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but with support, she felt better equipped to face the career challenges that lay ahead. Today, she decided to take some of her therapist's advice and walk home.

Once back in her apartment, she indulged in a steaming hot shower. The water cascaded over her, washing away the day’s stress. She massaged the moisturising body wash over her slender form, she loved the silky texture and the faint scent of vanilla. Her bathroom filled with steam, cocooning her in a private sanctuary. Olivia closed her eyes, focusing on the warmth of the water, the scent of the body wash, the gentle pressure of her fingertips on her clit. She began edging herself slowly, taking pleasure in the moment of refuge from her worries. Her body trembled as she finally released the built-up orgasm trapped within her. She needed that self-care, Doctor's orders.

[Sander_Kik]

Wow, I envy your writing skills! It feels so real, almost like I’m in the story as well. I sympathize with Olivia, luckely she took the advise from her therapist and had some self-care ����

[Orgasmic.Goddess]

Part Three: Don’t Panic, and Always Carry a Towel

Olivia surged with adrenaline, the luxury hotel project—the one that could catapult her career—was close to entering its next phase. The phase when the project would take shape in the real world. So, why had the initial thrill now become a gnawing anxiety?

“Olivia,” Sarah would say, “you got this.”

Part of the advice she had taken from her therapist was to take more time for herself. During lunch breaks, Emma, the graphic designer, joined Olivia for lunchtime runs together, a ritual that eased the pressure gripping Olivia’s mind. Emma hummed a tune from Darcy James Argue.

“Creativity flows like jazz,” Emma mused. “Sometimes it’s erratic, even chaotic, but it eventually finds its harmony. So will you, Olivia.”

Late nights became Olivia’s norm, especially in recent weeks. Fueled by coffee and sheer determination, she toiled. One evening, while stretching and yawning near the office coffee machine, she sensed eyes upon her. Glancing around, she caught sight of him—leaning against the water cooler, his gaze intense as he appraised her. Was he a designer? Olivia had only recently noticed his lingering glances; now seemed like the opportune moment to introduce herself and find out who he is. But fate intervened—the coffee machine beeped, signaling it was out of milk. Olivia grabbed a fresh bottle from the fridge, and when she turned back toward the water cooler, her mystery man had vanished, like a ghost in the night.

Sipping the frothy top of her coffee, Olivia stared out of the floor-to-ceiling windows over Wellington city. The rain, which had persistently tapped against the glass, had finally ceased. Her eyes blurred from working so late. She was close to pushing the project over the line into the next phase, however, she just couldn’t focus any longer. Her thoughts were erratic, like a jazz tune. After finishing her coffee, she returned to her desk. The office lights had automatically dimmed, as no one was around to trigger the motion sensors. As the last employee in the building, Olivia seized the moment.

“Time for some sexual self-care,” she murmured, mischief glinting in her eyes.

Her EarPods nestled snugly, cocooning her senses to the sounds of The Tortured Poets Department. She followed the dimly lit corridor to the women’s showers—tucked away near the restrooms. Waving her access card over the sensor, granting her entry. The lights were off until she stepped inside, then burst to life like she was entering a stage. The showers were empty. Olivia slipped out of her heels and office clothes, the floor was cool on her bare feet, a slight chill embracing her svelte form. Hot water sprayed out and steam curled from the shower stall. Olivia stepped beneath the hot spray, her muscles relaxing. The day’s stress melted away, leaving only the rhythm of water and the tunes in her earpods.

She closed her eyes and let the hot water wash away the stress of the day, her fingers traced the contours of her body, then massaged her clit gently, working her closer to an orgasm, her other hand fondling her breasts like a lover, her fingertips dancing around her pert nipples...But then, abruptly, the music in her EarPods cut out. Olivia frowned as she fumbled with them in her ears. She’d have to check the music app on her phone. She stepped out of the shower, droplets of water trailing down her body, goosebumps forming on her bare skin, her nipples hardening to the chill in the cool air. The bathroom was eerily silent, the only sound was the patter of her wet feet on the floor. Olivia wrapped herself in a towel, her wet feet leaving damp footprints behind her. She looked through her bag, but her phone was missing. Olivia’s scrambled, tired, mind tried to figure out where it might be. Had she left her phone at her desk? Fastening the towel above her breasts, it was just long enough to cover-up her butt and pussy, like a fluffy micro dress. Olivia feverishly rushed back to her desk to find her phone. The office was deserted, the lights had dimmed again. Her computer screen blinked at her, the hotel campaign still waiting. But her phone was nowhere to be found. She retraced her steps, the coffee machine? Nothing. Her phone had vanished.

“FUUUUCK. Think, Olivia, think,” she urged herself, trying to remain calm. Then it hit her. “The showers. I must have left it in my clothes when I undressed.”

Relief was short-lived as she realized she also left her access card along with all her other keys in the showers too, and she needed that fucking access card to get back into the showers. She berated herself silently.

“Oh no, fuck, fuck fuck, I honestly cannot be that absent-minded?” she whispered, dread pooling in her stomach.

She was locked out of the showers, with no way to get back in. She frantically rushed to the office window and glanced outside. The streets were dark and empty. She couldn’t call for help; her phone had vanished along with her common sense. Olivia’s blue eyes darted to the clock—it was past midnight. Could she sleep in the office and stand the embarrassment of her colleagues finding her in a towel in the morning? And then she remembered—the hidden spare key. Olivia had stashed a spare key to her apartment near the entrance to her building, a secret she shared with no one. It was a precaution for occasions just like this—her ticket out of this batshit crazy situation. The streets would be empty, surely. She could get home and get inside and get dressed!

But who in their right mind wandered the streets half-naked after dark? Only a girl determined not to be defeated by locked showers and missing phones. Not to be embarrassed in front of her co-workers—she’d worked too hard, sacrificed so much to get here, just to stumble this close to the finish line. As her elevator descended to the ground floor, she thought through her plan. She’d slip out the back exit, travel the quiet streets and lanes, and cling to the city’s shadows. It would be a twenty-minute walk to her apartment; she could make it and be in the comfort of her apartment in no time. She opened the rear exit door to the carpark, stepped outside into the cold darkness, the office doors sealed shut behind her—there was no going back now. Her bare feet slapped against the slick pavement as she walked, and echoed loudly in the carpark. She was half-naked, vulnerable, and utterly fucking insane. But she had a plan—a batshit crazy, desperate plan. She just had to make it to her apartment across the city in nothing but a towel. In the morning, when the office reopened, she’d return, dressed in fresh clothes, and collect her belongings like nothing had happened.

[Sander_Kik]

I’m hooked! What a great part, Olivia is really living on the edge! Luckely she wrapped herself in a towel, before leaving the showers. I can’t wait for how her walk home will be!

[Orgasmic.Goddess]

Part Four: Lost in the Arms of Night

The car park stretched out in front of her, she followed the driveway out onto the street. Wellington’s CBD, typically bustling, lay eerily quiet at this time of night. Rain-slick streets reflected dim streetlights. Olivia stepped gingerly along the footpath, glancing back at the building’s rear exit one last time. Her towel clinging to her skin like a fluffy shield against the elements. The fabric, while plush and comforting, now felt inadequate, barely covering her, revealing more than it concealed. Her slender legs, pale and smooth, extended from the hem, while her round shoulders peeked out the top, with a hint of cleavage showing on her chest. Olivia’s arms hugged her body, the chill of the cold concrete seeping through her bare feet, making her wish she’d had her running shoes.

“Keep moving,” she urged herself. “Don’t stop. Don’t look back.”

Determination pushed her forward. She avoided streetlamp glare, sticking to shadows where she could. Walking past a driveway to another building, a wind gust tugged at her towel, threatening to expose her, but she clung to it, fingers white-knuckled. Olivia shuddered. The thought of being seen like this was almost as unbearable as the cold. Yet, with each step, she willed herself onward.

Suddenly, she heard the faint sound of footsteps from behind her. Panic surged through her veins, and she quickened her pace to increase the distance between her and whoever was behind her. The footsteps grew louder, closer. She glanced over her shoulder, but she couldn't make out anyone in the low light. The footsteps closed in, and Olivia broke into a run toward the stairs which would lead to a pedestrian tunnel that links to Lambton Quay. As she dashed to the steps, her towel slipped loose, falling into a puddle. She jogged down the stairs, turned the corner at the bottom of the steps to hide from her pursuer. Her heart pounded in her chest, holding on to her breath so she wouldn't give away her location. She would go back for her towel once the coast was clear.

After a moment, she stole a glance back up to the stairs. The figure was no stranger, he was the mystery man from her office whom she had seen earlier by the water-cooler, someone who knew her. And that someone now held her towel, scanning around for her. She ducked her head back to avoid being seen. Olivia’s mind raced. Why was he following her? What did he want? She couldn’t face him, couldn’t bear the shame of her nakedness. Feelings of shame mixing panic. She peaked around the wall again, and he was gone as was her towel.

Olivia had to reach safety, even if it meant arriving home naked and shivering. The towel was lost, along with any remaining dignity. All she had left was determination—to survive this night, avoiding any judgmental eyes. Her therapist would have a field day with this. The irrational decision to venture out unclothed, the stress that had pushed her to the edge, and the stupid, fucking stupid, carelessness of losing her towel. Olivia’s resolve hardened along with her nipples. She would survive this night, even if it meant arriving home shivering and naked. Dignity be damned; getting home safely was her new goal.

“Just get home,” she whispered, her breath visible in the cold air. “You can do this.”

The pedestrian underpass tunnel stretched endlessly before her, echoes magnifying the sound of her wet footsteps. The sounds of birds piped through speakers along the tunnel were calming, but only temporarily. She reached the other end of the underpass and the rain was back. Stepping out from the shelter of the tunnel, Olivia, her skin now glistening with raindrops, navigated the bricked pavement of the alleyway to Lambton Quay. Store signs cast fragmented reflections on her exposed form, emphasising the contours of her body—the curve of her hips, the tear drop shape of her breasts, her nipples cold and wet.

The boutiques and cafes along Lambton Quay stood dark and empty. The glass windows, usually showcasing the latest fashion or delicious pastries, now reflected Olivia’s naked form. She hugged herself, arms wrapped tightly around her chest, shielding herself from both witnesses and the cold rain. She knew the city well, but it felt like a labyrinth in the dark and rain. Every shadow could hide a potential threat, and every sound amplified her anxiety. She forced herself to move, one step at a time, her little feet slapping loudly on the wet bricked pavement.

She crossed the street and found herself in a small park. The trees provided some shelter from the rain, and she took a moment to catch her breath. Her apartment was still a several blocks away, but it motivated her to keep moving.

Suddenly, she heard voices. A couple walking a tiny dog (in a cute little rain coat) were approaching, their chatter growing louder. Panic surged through her, and she looked around frantically for a place to hide. She spotted a large bush and quickly crouched behind it, her heart racing. The couple passed by, the dog sniffing the bush, possibly smelling her scent. She shivered uncontrollably while waiting for their voices to fade in the distance before emerging from her hiding spot.

“Did you see that?” the woman whispered, clutching her partner’s arm. “I think someone was hiding behind those bushes”
The man nodded, concern on his face. “Should we call someone? They might be in trouble?”
"Probably a homeless vagrant sleeping there, we should just leave them alone."

Olivia kept her eyes peeled for any more midnight wanderers. The occasional car passed by, headlights cutting through the darkness, but she managed to stay hidden. Her mind raced with thoughts of what could happen if she were caught like this. The embarrassment, the vulnerability, it was almost too much to bear. She pressed herself against the cold, damp wall, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts. Her bare breasts rising and falling with each breath. The cold and rain had made her nipples firm, and her fingers and toes numb. Her hair, wet and tangled, clung to her shoulders, her eyes wide and pupils dilated. The rain traced delicate pathways down her body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Every step feels like a mile. I can’t feel my toes anymore. How much longer can I keep this up?” The cold was more than just uncomfortable; it was a constant, gnawing ache that sapped her strength.

"You're stronger than you think." the words echoed in her psyche.

With renewed determination, she continued her journey. The streets stretched on forever, but she focused on reaching her apartment, her oasis. She could almost feel the warmth of her home, the comfort of dry clothes. For a moment, she allowed herself to believe she was safe.

As she crossed another street, she noticed a figure standing under a streetlight up ahead. Panic surged through her veins once more. She couldn’t tell if the person had seen her, but she couldn’t take any chances. She ducked into a side-street, her heart pounding. The rain continued to pour, she pressed on.

She approached a main road, she had to cross to get to her apartment on the other side of the city. The lights from the passing cars illuminated her, and she felt a wave of humiliation wash over her. She darted across the main road, hoping no one had seen her. A driver squinted through his rain-streaked windshield, eyes widening as he spotted Olivia.

“What on earth?” he muttered, watching her sprint across the street. “She must be freezing. Why isn’t she wearing any clothes?” He considered honking to get her attention but decided against it because he didn’t want to startle her.

She spotted a narrow passageway between two buildings, a shortcut home. The walls were close, the space claustrophobic. The temperature overnight must have plummeted to low single digits. She forced herself to keep moving, each step a battle against the cold and fear. The cold and rain had sapped her strength, and she stumbled, nearly falling to the ground.

She felt a hand grab her arm, yanking her backwards with a force that knocked her off her feet. Grabbing her body from behind, dragging her back into the dark passageway.

“Let go of me!” she screamed, struggling to break free. But his grip was like a vise, and he pulled her body closer, his breath hot against her ear.

“Quiet bitch!” he hissed menacingly underneath his breath.

Olivia’s heart pounded, her mind racing with terror. She opened her mouth to call for help, but the man clamped his right hand over her mouth, silencing her. His left arm wrapped tightly around her hip, his hand between her legs. He continued dragging her further into the dark passageway. Olivia’s mind screamed in panic as his fingers forcefully pushed inside her pussy. She had to do something, anything, to escape. His fingers thrusting into her pussy roughly finger fucking her.

Olivia bit down hard on his hand, and he yelped in pain, loosening his grip just enough for her to break free. She stumbled forward, her body trembling with fear and adrenaline. The man glared at her naked body, her breasts heaving as she was gulping for air, his eyes cold and calculating.

“You’re going to fuckin' regret that, cock-teasing bitch.” he snarled, advancing towards her.

Olivia panicked. She had to think fast. She glanced around, looking for anything she could use as a weapon. Her eyes landed on a broken Heineken bottle lying on the ground. She lunged for it, grabbing it with shaking hands.

“Stay back,” she warned, holding the bottle out in front of her. The man paused, a cruel smile forming across his face.

“You fuckin' think that'll stop me? You dumb bitch!” he taunted, taking another step forward.

Olivia’s grip tightened on the bottle, her knuckles white.

“Don’t come any closer,” she said, her voice trembling. The man laughed at her with a cold, cruel sound that sent chills down her spine.

“Come on baby,” he said, his eyes gleaming with malice and lust. “I know you want it.” Raising his fingers up, still glistening with the wetness from inside her pussy.

Olivia’s mind was a whirlwind of fear and desperation. But she couldn’t let him win. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves.

“Back off asshole,” she said, her voice stronger than she felt. The man hesitated, his eyes narrowing as he licked her wetness from his fingers. For a moment, they stood there, locked in a tense standoff.

Then, without warning, Olivia threw the bottle with all her might. The man dodged, but the bottle grazed his arm, drawing blood. He cursed, clutching his arm, and Olivia took the opportunity to run.

She ran towards her building, her heart pounding. She could hear the man shouting behind her, but she didn’t look back. Fear gripped her, and she broke into a sprint, her bare feet slapping against the wet pavement. She ducked into another alley, hoping she had lost her pursuer. She pressed herself against the wall, struggling to hold her breath, praying he wouldn’t find her. She waited a few moments before peeking out, relieved to see the street empty.

“I can’t stop now. I’m so close. Just a little further. I have to make it.” The thought of the safety of her warm apartment was the only thing keeping her going.

With her apartment building finally in sight, Olivia summoned all her remaining energy and sprinted toward it. The rain was relentless, and she was exhausted, but she pushed on, driven by the desperate need to get home.

Her hands shook uncontrollably as she reached the entrance, fumbling for the hidden spare key. The door clicked open, and she stumbled inside her apartment building. Rainwater still dripped from her naked, shivering form, pooling at her feet. The elevator button felt foreign under her numb, trembling finger, memories of the assault flashing through her mind like lightning crashes.

The empty elevator cocooned her, in mirrors of her own naked reflection. Olivia leaned against the cold metal wall, closing her blue eyes, gasping for air. The adrenaline that had fuelled her escape now leaving her drained and fragile. Her skin prickled with goosebumps, and she wrapped her arms around herself again.

The doors opened on her floor, and she staggered out, her legs wobbly from all her running. The hallway stretched before her, a narrow path to safety. She jogged the final few meters to her apartment door. The familiar wood door welcomed her in, and she slammed the door shut behind her, collapsing onto the floor.

“I made it,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. The fear, the violation, she curled into a ball, tears streaming down her face. The cozy couch beckoned, but she couldn’t move. Not yet.

Her mind raced, replaying the assault, dissecting every moment. Shame and anger battling within her. She vowed never to be caught off guard again, never to feel that vulnerability, she'd lost the plot and was NEVER going to be reckless and weak ever again. But the apartment walls seemed to close in, her chest tightening.

Olivia wrapped herself in a blanket, teeth chattering. The rain had soaked her, but it was the darkness inside that chilled her bones. She rocked back and forth, seeking solace in the rhythm, trying to dispel the memories. What kind of person walked home naked in the rain? With tears pouring down her face Olivia laughed—a hysterical sound that echoed through her empty apartment.

[Sander_Kik]

Wow! What a fascinating part. I’m glad Olivia made it home sort of safe. I hope she can process this night. It was so vivid, I felt the rush and adrenaline. Thanks for your another well-written part!!

[Orgasmic.Goddess]

Originally Posted by Sander_Kik

Wow! What a fascinating part. I’m glad Olivia made it home sort of safe. I hope she can process this night. It was so vivid, I felt the rush and adrenaline. Thanks for your another well-written part!!

Thanks Sander It's a longer part, which I was going to split into 2, but I felt it flowed better as one long post.

I'll be taking a break after this, and I hope more people enjoy the story in the meantime. I have some ideas for maybe 3-4 more parts but it depends on how the readership feels about this story and the characters. If everyone is interested in reading more, there's definitely more story I can tell.

[tosen]

Originally Posted by Orgasmic.Goddess

Thanks Sander It's a longer part, which I was going to split into 2, but I felt it flowed better as one long post.

I'll be taking a break after this, and I hope more people enjoy the story in the meantime. I have some ideas for maybe 3-4 more parts but it depends on how the readership feels about this story and the characters. If everyone is interested in reading more, there's definitely more story I can tell.

I would say go for it!

Really fascinating to read

[Orgasmic.Goddess]

Part Five: Vanilla Sky

The sun cast a gentle glow across the warm, vanilla sky, illuminating the bustling city streets below. The morning rush of workers scurrying to work is just a blur as Olivia finds herself sprinting toward her office building. Her heart thumping in her chest, each beat a frantic reminder that she's running late. She turns a corner, gasping for breath, and sees her office building ahead. Through the glass, she sees the conference room where her big hotel presentation is about to begin. Taking a deep breath, she prepares herself for the worst and pushes open the door.

As she steps into the room, slipping off her coat, she turns to face the conference room. The room is dimly lit, with a long table stretching out in front of her. There are at least a dozen people seated around the table, all of them staring at her with a mix of shock and amusement. Olivia is suddenly greeted with a wave of laughter and snickering from her coworkers and members from the hotel board. She looks down, her eyes widening in horror as she realizes she's completely naked. She can feel her cheeks red with shame and embarrassment. She desperately tries to cover herself up, covering her bare breasts with her arms, and crossing her legs to hide her pussy. But it’s too late, all her coworkers stare at her, their faces twisted in amusement and disgust.

She turns to flee from the conference room, just as Mr Harrison walks in. He takes one look at her and bursts out laughing, tears streaming down his face. Olivia feels a sense of humiliation wash over her, she turns to look at all the people in the conference room pointing and laughing at her. She's the laughing stock of the company, and there's nothing she can do to change it now. The mysterious figure appears at the back of the room. Their eyes lock with Olivia’s. She can’t look away. The figure mouths something, but she can't make out what they are…

Olivia sits upright in her bed, gasping for air, trying to shake off the feeling of anxiety and humiliation. It's another fucking naked dream, she tells herself, shaking her head with frustration. The recurring nightmares are a reminder of the trauma she's still trying to get over. Slinking back down under the bedcovers, her fingers slide down her naked body to her surprisingly wet pussy. She slowly inserts her ring and middle finger inside her pussy lips. Rocking her palm over her clit, her fingers thrust inside her pussy as she brings herself to orgasm beneath the bed sheets. Her body trembles and she feels a warm flush over her body. She takes a moment before rolling over to slide naked out of bed. She has a busy day ahead of her.

It had been a month since she made that naked journey home in the cold darkness. A month since the sexual assault. Olivia was still struggling to come to terms with what had happened. When a stranger had grabbed her from behind and dragged her into a dark alley. She had fought back with all her might, but the man had been too strong. If it weren’t for some quick thinking and a lucky blow from the glass bottle, who knows what might have happened to her that night.

The aftermath of the attack had been a blur of activity. She had reported the incident to the police, who had taken her statement and assured her that they would do everything they could to find the perpetrator. But it had been a month now, and realistically she knew he may never be caught. She had also informed her employer about the incident, and they had been incredibly supportive, extending a work-from-home arrangement until she felt safe enough to return to the office. A lovely bouquet of flowers had been delivered to her apartment, and Olivia loved the colours and scent so much, she placed the flowers by her workspace at home.

Olivia had also started taking boxing fitness classes at her gym. She had never been into contact sports, but something about it appealed to her. Maybe it was the sense of empowerment that came with learning to defend herself, or maybe it was the physical challenge of pushing her body to its limits? Whatever it was, she had thrown herself into the classes. Punching her fists into the boxing bag helped her release built-up nervous tension. Every punch, every drop of sweat, a step towards ensuring that she would never be a victim again. She wiped the sweat from her brow with her forearm, her muscles aching from the workout.

Heading to the locker room, she was relieved to find it empty. She took a moment to assess her physique in the mirror, noting the changes since she started her high-intensity gym routine after the attack. Her arms are stronger, her abs more defined, and her legs more muscular. Turning on the shower, the hot water soothes her aching muscles, and she can feel the tension melting away. As she lathers up her hair, she can't help but think about the nightmare that's been haunting her. The fear and vulnerability she felt in the dream, still fresh in her mind, but she pushes them aside. She's not going to let this fear control her. She's going to fight back, just like she does with the punching bags. She rinses off, feeling the water cascade down her body. As she steps out from the shower, she feels refreshed.

Olivia took care getting dressed, wearing underwear, her favourite bootleg jeans, and a warm, striped pull-over. She had her next appointment with Dr. Sharon Fieldstone shortly after her gym class, and the thought of it made her heart race a little. She took another deep breath and started walking towards the therapist’s office. Dr. Fieldstone had been her therapist for a while now, helping Olivia manage her stress and anxiety as she started her career. Now, her therapy sessions were more intense. Although Olivia gained physical strength at the gym, she gained psychological strength through therapy. Olivia knew that today’s session would be challenging, but she also knew it was a necessary part of her journey towards mental well-being.

[Sander_Kik]

You really had me there for a bit! For a second I thought Olivia would continue her life naked �� Glad to hear she’s taking boxing classes and that the therapy sessions really help her!

[Orgasmic.Goddess]

Originally Posted by Sander_Kik

You really had me there for a bit! For a second I thought Olivia would continue her life naked �� Glad to hear she’s taking boxing classes and that the therapy sessions really help her!

Spoiler alert! But yes, some lifestyle changes are happening for sure.

[bananabob]

Another interesting update! I knew it had to be a dream