Mr. Nobody

*

“Sorry, what?”

I was in the final minutes of my evening run. I had my favorite podcast screaming in my ears, the sun was setting on the park, and I was on the last mile of running before hitting the shower at home.

“I couldn’t hear you properly with my headphones on…”

The man that stopped me capturing my attention was a middle aged office man. One you wouldn’t notice if he wouldn’t talk to you first.

He was wearing a nice suit, was freshly shaved, and had the most average face possible. A true mr. Nobody.

It was obvious he wanted to sell me something, or attempt an approach. So I kept my two feet distance, ready to blurb some lame excuse and keep running away.

“I’m gonna only steal a minute from you”, he said without an inch of confidence coming my way.

“I don’t want to be disrespectful but I’m running really late for dinner” I replied, thinking about having dinner by myself in front of the TV and masturbating myself to sleep.

He went on like he didn’t even hear me.

“I work for a company that provides statistics on how shoes get worn out, so that shoe manufacturers can improve their products' durability. I’m here to collect as many used shoes as possible to then bring back to our center and analyze for design flaws”.

I was confused, and he used my lack of response to keep going.

“I’m proposing to you, as to any other person that wants, to change your shoes right now with a pair of new ones of the exact or even greater economic value”.

Saying so, he opened up the trunk of his nearby car, revealing at least fifty shoeboxes of various numbers and brands.

“I see you're wearing Adidas, right? Is that a… 37? 38?”

“It is a 38”, I replied, “and thank you very much but I really have to go now…”

“Adidas running shoes, 38, what about this?”

My exact same model, only newer, in better shape, for free.

"You only have to leave me your shoes, right now, and go home with this new pair” he concluded, dangling the new shoes in front of me.

“And sign what?” I replied, expecting some kind of paperwork to collect a good bunch of personal data as well as my smelly running shoes.

“Nothing”, he replied, “we are interested in products that are used in real life, because there’s only so much stress testing you can do in a closed environment”.

Me being me, I weighed in the fact that he was just a foot pervert wanting to bring home used running shoes from women to sniff and masturbate to. But I don’t mind people wanking in the privacy of their home, thinking about me or not. And the deal was honestly good.

“Fuck it”, I said taking my shoes off and stepping with my sweaty socks on the road, “count me in”.

“Smart choice” he smiled, putting my old shoes in the box and giving me the new pair.

“I wish my job was always so easy,” he nodded, waving goodbye and driving off.

Darkness had now fallen on the city as the sun had setted during the conversation with Mr.Nobody. I found myself alone again, too distracted by my recent interaction with him to keep listening to my podcast, as I started walking home feeling a bit light-headed.

I wanted to tell the story of what happened to my friends, even at risk of being seen as the creepy woman who gives random strangers her dirty shoes. I wanted to get off the street, as it felt weird to say yes to such an offer, and at the same time kept asking myself why was that so wrong to begin with. We were both consenting adults. Maybe he wasn’t lying, and I just got lucky. Maybe he was lying, but my new shoes were firmly strapped to my feet, and he didn’t know my name, or address, or phone number. So what?

*

In the days after my encounter with Mr.Nobody, I met him two more times. The first one I saw him standing in front of his car, just looking around.

He did not spot me, and I took a turn jumping a small hedge to get in the park without crossing his line of sight. He was not talking to someone, but I could clearly see the boxes in his car.The second time I decided to overcome my shame and ran straight in front of him, going towards the main entrance of the park; he waved at me, I waved at him. I saw him taking a glimpse of my full body from face to feet. He focused on the running shoes, maybe to hide his instinct to check my bouncing boobs or how tight my leggings were.

They were ultra tight and revealing, because I like to be the one you want to look at when you are with your girlfriend at the park. I want you to look and desire helplessly. I am an attention whore and I want your eyes on me as much as I don’t want your hands on me.

But as fast as I ran away from that brief encounter I wanted to go back and get his eyes on me again. I was now getting horny at the idea he was doing it for his fetish, that he went home, kneeled on the bathroom floor and shoved his face in my old running shoes, filling his lungs with my smell before cumming all over the floor. I wouldn’t have slept with him in a million years, but the idea he would become obsessed with me was fueling my instincts like nothing before.

I felt wet in my underwear while running, and I wanted more and more attention from him.

After an hour I circled back to his whereabouts, only to find him busy speaking to two other men. The trunk of the car was open, the shoe boxes clearly displayed for others to see. My self-esteem took the hit: he was not a pervert, he was honestly doing his job on the street.

I didn’t want to give up. I felt rejected, even if I wasn’t interested in the first place. I wanted his desire and attention to feel the rush of rejecting it, or quietly allowing it but without any contact of the skin.

I started stretching nearby, not close enough to hear the discussion between the three men but angled in a way I was sure I was going to be seen. Bending to grab my ankles and show as much ass as possible. Spreading my legs to make him dream how it would feel to push his face right there, between my tights, right now, after a long run.

The two uninvited guests to my little show didn’t look like they were going anywhere anytime soon. Although I was feeling the effect of the previous run I started running again, getting into the park, planning to get another twenty minutes in and give Mr. Nobody another chance to speak to me.

The idea of being desired in such a creepy, feticistic way was so strong that I didn’t feel the pain of the extra miles. I wanted another encounter, I wanted to stand closer to him and let him feel my sweaty skin, I wanted him to get a close look at my body and smell my sweat and my deodorant. I wanted him to lose my mind over me.

When I came back, he was finally alone, closing the trunk of his car seemingly ready to go. I approached him from behind, and he couldn’t really see me. No one was around anymore, as the sun had settled and the park was getting darker by the minute.

“How was your day?” I asked, surprising him as he was adjusting stuff in the back of his car.

“Very good, how was yours?” he said, very quickly closing the trunk of the car and leaning awkwardly on it.

“Good as well. These new running shoes rock, you know?”

“I bet they do, they are brand new. Maybe in a year we will meet again and exchange those for a new pair”.

“A whole year? This means you are leaving this area for that much time?” I asked, innocently.

“Who knows, maybe with the right motivation I can come back sooner” he said, quickly looking at my breasts.

I took a step closer, getting at arm reach from him.

“In my mind I’ve debated a lot whether you were honest or not with me, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you truly collect random running shoes or you just are a shoe pervert who likes to smell hot lady’s dirty feet”, I replied.

“If you want, I will let you take a look in my trunk and see it for yourself”

“And If I’m right?”, I asked with a perverted smile on my face.

“Take a look and discover it for yourself”, he said, opening the trunk of the car.

As I leaned inside the trunk, I realized I was giving my back directly to him, on a dark road near an empty public park. Not the smartest move of my life, if I have to be honest. But it wasn’t the first stupid thing I had done that day.

The whole idea of confronting the pervert was a big mistake, originated from my idea of being this unattainable sex goddess to this weird little man.

Then I discovered that the shoe boxes in the back of his car were all empty. At the very back of the trunk a shovel was poking out of a black plastic bag.

“I can explain,” he said. I noticed a shift in his voice. More confident, more deep, not worried at all.

“You definitely should,” I said, turning around and sitting in the open trunk.

“I saw you running in the park and became obsessed with you. So I came up with this weird plan to obtain your running shoes

“And what about the other thing?” I asked, dangling my feet, and pointing at my back, towards the shovel.

“That is for my other fetish” he replied, looking at my bare ankles in front of him.

“That sounds even more fucked up” I said, standing up in front of him. “It’s also very fucked up that I feel honored in a way that you went to this extent to meet me, but I think that’s enough”.

“But it can’t end like this” he said, reaching for the shovel in the back of the car, un-wrapping it from the bag.

My mouth dried up. The sweat on my skin started to feel very cold.

“The two men you saw me talking to earlier… They are police. And I’m a registered sex offender”.

“I won’t report you to the police” I said. This time the lack of confidence came from me.

“You will, the minute you feel safe to do so”. He was right.

“So… my other fetish” he said, looking at the shovel he was holding. “Hunter and prey. The desirable prey provoking the hunter. The hunt. The possibility of failure. The risk of it all.”

“I will find help, all I have to do is run around the corner”

“But you won’t make it to the corner. I’m faster than you. This is why, if you run towards the city, I will take you immediately. But if you run back into the park, I will give you a two minute advantage. At midnight I will stop searching for you, and you will be free. Free to call the police, and go back home”.

“I don’t want to have sex with you. Please.” How naive.

“I promise, no sex. If I get you, I will use my shovel to bury you”.

While talking, he got closer and closer. I could smell his fresh breath. I felt his erection through his pants on my belly. And I felt my phone sliding out of my arm pocket.

“Your two minutes start now”.

I turned around and started running as fast as possible, tears running down my cheeks. My body was burning from the amount of exercise I had done, but the adrenaline rush kept me going.

I instinctively started to follow my own usual path, a marked way through the park and back to the starting point. Only after the two minutes had run over I realized that I was very visible and in the most obvious trajectory. I jumped over a small bush and tried to get lost in the woods.

*

When I was 15, I used to play volleyball. I loved the competition, the group of us going on a fight against another group of females. Those were also the days of the discovery of my own sexuality. I used to fantasize about having a big orgy with the older man team as a prize for the winning team. Then I started fantasizing about being the losers of the match and having to watch our opponents fuck our man team, having to collect their dirty clothes from the match while they had sex in our locker room. One day, one of my teammates forgot a dirty sock under the bench when she left and I stole it. Fueled my masturbation for days before my mom discovered it and washed it.

One day, as I jumped close to the net, I landed sideways on one of my feet. My closest teammate, the one I stole the sock from, landed accidentally on me as I fell to the ground. The combined effect was a broken ankle, a lot of pain, and a trip to the ER where I lay on a stretcher, half naked, with only one shoe on my feet and the other next to my head.

The pain was bearable. I found that moment very hot. I felt helpless, very aware of my naked legs and tight leggins, and weirdly very aroused.

*

And then, more than 20 years later, there was this big rock I didn’t see. As I stepped on it trying to escape, it moved under me and caused an intense pain on my never-fully-recovered right ankle. And that was my last step. The pain came back even stronger. I lay on the ground, looking at the stars. A full moon splashed a gray light all over the park. No darkness to protect me.

I tried to control my breathing and just hoped midnight would come fast enough. The sound of footsteps broken that hope fast. If it’s someone else I’m safe.

Mr. Nobody came into my vision. He planted the shovel next to me, rolling his shirt sleeves like you do before starting a manual job. The job of digging a grave.

“That was easy”, he said, picking up the shovel and starting to dig next to me.

“I got injured. Please help me”.

“The pain will stop soon”.

“Why? Why are you doing this to me?”

“You wanted me to desire you. You provoked me. You now have my full attention”.

“I don’t want to be raped”.

“I won’t rape you! That’s not hot at all”.

I fought back the urge to cry. I had done everything to make him obsessed with me. He was.

And he was now digging into the soft ground.

“You are not the first, you know? My very first one escaped. The second one dug her own grave. She was a perverted bitch. My third attempt tried to run, but I managed to bag her directly into the trunk of my car. Peed all over it. But you… you played the game. I loved that”.

He kneeled next to my face, softly touching my lips, then my breasts. I was shivering.

“You lost, but you played. You gave me the shoes. You came back to say hi. You even came back again to stretch in front of me. I loved it. I can’t wait to be a part of your life”.

“Please, don’t”

“We are beyond that, come on”

He bent on me smelling my neck, my belly, then between my legs. The grave wasn’t done, but he couldn’t wait.

“You will give me the orgasm of my life”

“I don’t want to!”

“You don’t have to. You won’t notice. You will go into your grave and your shoes will stay with me forever. Let’s not risk it anymore, Daniela. Trust me, it’s easy if you close your eyes”.

I didn’t. I used all of my strength to not cry and kept looking straight into his eyeballs. He stood up over me.

“Very brave. I like it.”

He swung the shovel above his shoulders and directly to the side of my head.

The first blow took out my vision, as my brain started to disconnect from reality.

I was back on the ER stretcher. The room was empty, but I could hear the big orgy taking place in the next room. Did we lose the match? Who is collecting the clothes of the winning team? Someone had taken my legging off. That was unnecessary. I feel naked. Do I taste blood? Or is that cum?

Mr. Nobody is cumming on my transfigured face. Blood is pouring out my noose, eyes and mouth. Man of his world, he did not fuck me, but only pleased himself on my dying body.

The second blow came and the moon left the space to darkness.

*