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Evelyn was small and blonde, and wore glasses that alway seemed on the verge of slipping down her nose. Her voice rarely rose above a whisper, and her taste in dress was simple. Nobody ever noticed her, and she liked it that way. It made pursuing her hobby that much easier. The boy was dark-skinned and had heavy, straight black hair that made her suspect he had Indian blood. He was shortish and muscular and the half-smile he always wore was faintly sneering. His arrogance thrilled her. When Evelyn first saw him in her building's laundry-room she knew she wanted him for her collection. He was sitting barefoot on one of the washers, drinking a coke, half-listening to his girlfriend chattering on to him as she folded his clothes. He caught Evelyn's eye as she came in to add fabric softener to her half-finished load. He grinned nastily at her and her throat tightened. So beautiful. She wanted him immediately, but she knew she had to wait. Preparations had to be made. She looked away quickly, letting her shoulders hunch as she turned to her machine, as though she were deeply intimidated by him. She knew he would like that. Evelyn opened the washer and smiled a little as she poured the fabric softener over the mass of new rope coiled inside. "If you're good," Evelyn told him, fiddling with the camera, "you'll get candy and kisses. If you're bad, you know what you'll get." The dark-haired boy bit down on the gag and breathed loudly in and out through his nose. He had stopped struggling. He looked less scared than angry now, and less angry than confused. Terribly confused. None of this made any sense to him. Evelyn knelt on the bed between his bound feet and aimed the camera. "Smile pretty," she told him. The camera went click and she reached out, playing with his balls until he moaned and his dick stood up. The camera went click again. "That's my good baby," she said. "Tell me, do you like to wear makeup?" It took Evelyn a while to find out which apartment the dark-haired boy lived in. She learned his schedule by degrees, and made sure she was on the elevator when he rode it down in the mornings. She loitered by the mailboxes until he came home each evening from work. She encouraged his initial impression of her as a shy, nerdish girl who worshipped him from afar. He preened when he saw her, threw out his chest and laughed sneeringly. One Friday evening she saw him kiss his girlfriend in the lobby. The girlfriend was loaded down with suitcases that he made no offer to carry out to the cab. She was going on vacation, and Evelyn knew the time had come. When she knocked on his door that night and asked him, haltingly, agonizingly shy, if he would like to maybe come to her apartment for a drink, he agreed readily, grinning that nasty grin. "You look so pretty," she told him, squeezing the lube onto her hand. "I bet you'd like to come, wouldn't you?" He moaned through the gag. His cock was wonderfully hot and stiff in her hand as she pumped it. Just as he began writhing and jerking his hips she took her hand away, wiping the lube off on his chest and smiling at him. He let out a muffled squeal, angry and pleading. The eyeshadow and mascara she'd put on him made his eyes wide and staring. She pinched his nipples and bit them. She tickled him expertly with long nails and mocked his screaming, muffled giggles. Then it was time for more pictures. "Such a good boy," she told him, clicking away. "It's going to feel so good when I finally get on top of you and fuck you. You just keep telling yourself that, okay?" When Evelyn finally untied the boy almost two days later, he was weak and disoriented; she kissed him hard, wrapping her arms and legs around him as they sat together on the bed. Eventually he began returning her caresses, but softly, tentatively. When she finally pulled away from him, he whimpered. "Time to go home now," she told him gently. "Your girlfriend will be back soon. Don't you want to go say hello to her?" He didn't. He wanted to stay with her. He clung to her hand and kissed it. Evelyn had to be very firm with him, finally. When he left she lay back on the bed, relishing the lingering warmth of his body. Then she took the stack of Polaroids on her bedside table and began shuffling through them, smiling as she relived the weekend. Two days of playing with her toy. There had been a moment there when she thought he wouldn't break, but eventually his anger had faded, been replaced by something else, a longing he hadn't realized was inside him. She knew that moment would come; it always did with her boys. She knew how to pick them. Evelyn sighed luxuriously as she began playing with herself. The week previous, she had noticed a tall blonde boy who had appeared on the same bus she took to work every morning. The boy had smiled when she jerked her eyes away from him. He would look very nice in rope, she thought. ------------------------------------------------------------------------
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