The Prey

Imagine sitting at a bistro alone. You're having your morning coffee and Muffin, or whatever you enjoy having for breakfast. You're reading the morning newspaper and sipping on your coffee when, all of a sudden, you get a wif of this delicious smelling cologne. You know you've smelled it before, but you just can't put your finger on where. It's a woodsy smell with notes of citrus thrown in. It is a scent that makes you instantly weak and your center ache. You try to ignore the smell and you go back to your paper.
You quickly start to feel like you're being watched. Every move you make is being judged. You look around and try to see if someone is looking your way. Nothing. That smell is there again. You can't take it any longer and you get up and walk out of the bistro.
You're sure you're being followed. You hear a pitterpatter of footsteps in the distance behind. You slow down and turn around. You are expecting to see someone, anyone, walking behind you. No one is there. The wind begins to blow and you can smell that musky scent as it tickles your nose.
It is calling to you opening up all of your senses. You can feel your body growing hotter and weaker. You start to feel hunted. Like a predator is there, somewhere, in the shadows. You are the prey that He craves. You are his fun.
You start to walk more and your pace hastens as the sounds get closer. Almost at a jog as You feel him grab onto your arm. You begin to fight but he's strong. You try to scream but as you open your mouth, no sound comes out. He's been hunting you. Watching you. Waiting patiently to make his move. He craves your touch. To own you. To mark you. To make you His, and only His, whore.
Your body starts reacting on its own. Scratching and biting. You start to hit and punch him in the chest. Struggling to break free. He wraps his arms around you to hold you in place so that you can't hit him any longer. You go back to biting and growling for him to release you. He leans down and in a deep, harsh tone whispers into your ear, "Keep fighting you pathetic whore. I like them feisty and tonight, you will be reminded of the power over your mind I have. I will fuck the fight right out of that tight cunt. "
You know you should be afraid, but this arouses you more than anything. You know your panties are soaking wet. You aren't sure if it's because you pissed yourself or from the sexual excitement. Either way, you are so turned on. You are now a pile of primal goo in the arms of a stranger.