Hunted Doe

Mary only came along to  our outdoor activity club because her boyfriend, Robin, had recently joined us.   Robin turned out to be a bit of a walking disaster; although he was a reasonably successful competitive cyclist he did keep getting into scrapes.   Walking on the moors he would slip and fall into a fast flowing stream.   Sailing, he lost his car keys overboard so,  as he had driven us to the marina, the rest of us had to get a taxi home leaving him to sort his car out.  Canoeing he capsized and came out of his kayak, losing his paddle so I had to tow him the rest of the way.

We all went out for an evening meal at an Italian restaurant and there he had a big bust up about something with Mary and the two of them left almost at each other's throats,  it was quite embarrassing for the rest of us and the other costumers kept muttering and looking in our direction. 

We didn't see much of Robin after that,  but Mary still joined us occasionally on expeditions.   She wasn't a bad canoeist, she didn't get seasick and had a good grasp of navigation.  I actually quite fancied her,  but wasn't sure I could put up with her moodiness.  We never did find out exactly what her argument with Robin was about, he just said it was something trivial but she did sometimes fly into a temper over the silliest things and he was well rid of her.

Some of the best canoeing is in the winter,  when there's a lot more water in the rivers and there are no anglers.   At the end of February six of us,  including Mary,  had paddled down five miles of intermittent rapids from a clapper bridge on the moors to a get out point where a minor road ran alongside the river.   There was still frost on the grass in the shade of the stunted mossy moorland oaks and Mary,  having capsized and rolled her kayak a couple of times was shivering and could hardly feel her fingers for the cold.

But Chris's girlfriend, Sue, wasn't there with the minibus to pick us up.   We waited 15 minutes,  but she should really have already been there for an hour or so.

"I bet the dopey cow's waiting for us at the wrong place"  muttered Chris, putting into words what I was already thinking,  but hadn't wanted to offend him.

"I've got my phone in my dry-bag" said Mary through chattering teeth,  but her frozen fingers couldn't even undo the clip on the bag.   I got the phone out for her,  but there was no signal at the bottom of the valley.

"I'll have to walk up the hill to get a signal" I said.   Mary nodded and I set off.   I didn't say anything to the others but I feared that if Sue had parked the minibus somewhere else close to the river she wouldn't have a signal either.

I had to walk uphill for about three quarters of a mile, to the junction with the main road before I got a phone signal.  Sue answered straight away,  she had actually been at the right place but,  when we hadn't turned up when she expected us to she had driven uphill in the opposite direction to me, so she'd have a phone signal if we were trying to call her.   Dopey cow indeed,  we'd told her we had no real idea how long we'd take and for her just to wait!

She said she'd pick me up with the minibus so I had a few minutes to wait.   I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't help looking at Mary's phone.   I flicked through her photo gallery, pics of October's sailing trip,  various people I didn't recognise at parties, selfies of her with donkeys and ponies,  an elderly lady cutting a birthday cake and various cats and dogs.   I wondered if some were taken inside her home,  if so which ones.

Sue hadn't turned up so I looked what internet pages Mary had bookmarked.   News and weather pages,  online shopping sites,  several animal rights groups (one seemed quite involved in direct action against testing labs and cosmetics companies) and then one bookmark labelled simply 'Login',  but I instantly recognised the tiny purple icon alongside it.

The fetish social network site I often used!  My heart raced,  I looked up the road,  no sign of the minibus yet.   I opened the link,  her login details were saved,  so there I was logged in as 'Hunted Doe'!  Then Sue arrived with the minibus and I hurriedly pressed the back button as many times as I could then turned the phone off.

As we were driven back to where we'd parked our cars I hoped Mary didn't notice me repeatedly glancing at her.  I suddenly saw her in a different light,  I couldn't wait to look in more detail at her online profile.

Hunted Doe's profile didn't give that much away.   She'd only one album,  titled 'Hunters'.   It didn't have many pictures,  mainly girl's in various states of dress, or otherwise, wielding guns or bows and arrows as well as a few of dead females on the forest floor with arrows in them, from some Amazon site.

She belonged to several groups, some sadistic fantasy killing ones,  a couple of strangling/hanging ones and so on.   I was disappointed she hadn't joined any crucifixion groups.  I looked at her Wall;  she had liked someone's profile picture of a bound naked girl with an apple stuffed in her mouth and just joined a group 'Furry Den'.

I 'liked' several of the pictures she'd posted and commented "I'd like to do that to you!" on one of her pics of dead Amazon's.   I didn't send her a friend request.   I double checked my own profile to make sure I hadn't included any possible clues to my identity, after all I hadn't really expected anyone I knew in real life to be a member.

That night I masturbated, thinking of Mary getting aroused by the thought of a dead woman, perhaps imagining it to be herself?   Her profile really didn't give a lot away.

In March we did some climbing,  not too adventurous and in the company of an instructor.  I kept looking at Mary and imagining her losing her hold and dropping,  accidentally getting a loop of the brightly coloured nylon rope around her neck.   At one point she realised I was watching her and gave me a slightly quizzical look back.   I looked away,  feeling a slight bulge in my trousers which I hoped she wouldn't see.

On the way back in the minibus we passed a group of huntsmen, resplendent in their red coats, on an open common.  Mary leant across me to make rude gestures at them through the window,  vehemently hissing "Fucking bastards!  We should have run them over."

"They don't hunt animals any more,  they just follow a scent trail that's been laid for them."  When I said that I really set her off.

She went on about how they all must have hunted and killed live animals in the past,  how hunt monitors kept finding evidence of foxes being deliberately killed despite the Hunting Act.

"How would you like to be chased and killed by a pack of hounds set upon you by a bunch of posh nobs in fancy dress?" she spat.

I looked her straight in the eye but said nothing for several seconds before countering "Have you imagined yourself in that situation then?"  Mary glared back at me,  but I continued "A poor,  weak defenseless creature pursued until,  exhausted,  you fall into their hands.   Chased just for their amusement."  She was about to reply when I added "What would they do to YOU once the caught you,  after all it's only sport for them!" 

She slapped me across my face then refused to talk to  me for the rest of the day, averting her gaze every time I looked at her.   "I'm sorry" I said as we dropped her off.

She didn't answer but stood staring at me critically for a couple of seconds before turning and hurrying away.   I don't think she believed I was sorry really.

It was two days later that she next posted on the fetish social network, adding a picture of a scantily clad girl being pursued along a beach by a man on horseback casting a net towards her.  I kept wondering what comment I might post.  Recklessly I considered making some reference likening the girl to a fox.   Instead I eventually just added "Nice catch."

It was early May before Mary turned up again.  This time it was an outing for Chris's birthday at a Forest Activity Centre.   Not the sort of expeditions we were used to but just a few tame organised outdoor activities that Chris's other friends and family could join in too, with a barbeque and a cream tea thrown in.

It was at the end of the archery session that temptation got the better of me.   We were left to put our bows and arrows away by the targets as the instructor moved us on towards the abseiling and zip wire area.   Everyone else had gone ahead as Mary bent to drop  her bow then arrow into their respective wooden boxes.  

She stood up and turned to find me facing her.   My bow drawn and the blue aluminium shaft of the arrow pointing at her belly.

Mary stared at the sharp black steel tip only a couple of feet from her body,  at the tension in the bow's string.   "Don't!  Stop that you idiot ... Remember the instructor even said not to draw an arrow unless everyone else is behind the shooting line!"

"if I release this it'll go straight through you!"  I reminded her.

"You wouldn't."  She paused.  "Please just be careful."

"Run then.   I'll give you a chance to  get away."

She stared at me,  opened mouthed.   "Are you fucking mad?"  I looked at her chest and saw how quickly she was breathing now.

"It would be a cleaner wound if the arrow didn't have to go through your clothes first."

"You bastard!" she hissed, then turned and ran as fast as she could after the others with me in pursuit.  She had just caught sight of them when she tripped and fell, falling headlong along the gravel path. 

I ran up to her and stood astride her,  she lay still for a couple of seconds then slowly rolled onto her back, looking up at me,  the side of her nose and both hands grazed by the loose stone.  I had left my bow and arrow at the targets and put out my hand to help her up,  but instead of reaching for it she pulled her t-shirt up a bit to bare her midriff.  "Isn't that what you wanted?"

I hesitated, she stared up at me for a long three or four seconds, I think she only then realised that I was now unarmed,  then spat ineffectively at me and said "Leave me alone you fucking bastard!"

Someone shouted back "Mary!   Are you all right?"

"It was my fault" I called out.

But  Mary yelled "No it wasn't.  I just wasn't looking where I was going!"

"You're face is cut" I told her.

She quietly replied "And my hands."  She paused.  "I suppose I'm lucky that's all you've hurt."  But she didn't speak to me for the rest of the day.

That evening she posted a picture of a dead girl,  on her back with an arrow in her belly.   I spent nearly an hour wondering what comment to make,  but ended up just liking it.

I decided I'd better be careful about what I said to Mary in case she realised I had recognised her on online.

She did seem slightly wary a month later when we went for a long trek along the coast path,  but by the end of the day she seemed to be treating me quite normally.

The following weekend was supposed to be a 25 mile trek on the high moor including an overnight camp.  But at dawn on Saturday morning the rain was torrential.  Even though the forecast was for the rain and cloud to clear most of them decided to abandon the trip and meet up for lunch at a pub instead.  

"You're not still coming Mary, are you?" questioned Chris.  

"Why not?"  she laughed,  her hair plastered across her face by the rain.  As I picked up my rucksack too she turned to face me.  "Aren't you going to the pub with the others? "

"Why?"  I grinned at her.   "The forecast isn't too bad later."

She hesitated,  but then saw that Sue was still going and arranged to share a small tent with her.

In the end it was just me,  Mary, Dave, Chris and Sue who set off across the moors in the pouring rain. 

If anything the weather got worse during the morning and a brook we had to cross early in the afternoon was in spate.   Chris took off his rucksack and jumped across,  we then threw his rucksack over to him,  followed by the rest of ours.   One by one we jumped across,  but Mary,  the fourth to cross, landed awkwardly on the wet slippery grass twisting her ankle.

"Someone better take Mary back" said Dave.

"She won't get back over this stream by here"  I pointed out.

"We'll never make it to our planned camp if she can only hobble along" complained Dave.   "I don't know why you came with us in these conditions"  he unkindly said to Mary "You've spoilt it for the rest of us now!"

"I'll stay back with Mary if you give us the small tent"  I volunteered, as Mary glared angrily at  me.   "You never know,  we might catch up with you later."

"Do you mind if we share a tent with Dave?  I'll sleep in the middle."  Chris consulted Sue.

No one asked Mary,  she didn't really have a choice if the others insisted on going on ahead.  She glared at me, looking as though she was about to  say something, then left us to rearrange our loads,  with me carrying the whole of the smaller tent.

It had stopped raining and the wind had died down by late afternoon, the sun even broke through for a few minutes.  Mary had actually hobbled  along quite well,  refusing any help from me even on the steeper rocky parts of the walk, as the weather improved so did her walking.

We did however have trouble finding anywhere on the waterlogged peaty moor to pitch the tent,  in the end the only place we found where the ground was firm enough was on quite a slope.  We were both soaked to the skin despite our waterproof coats so as soon as I'd got the tent up I suggested to Mary that she use it to get changed into dry clothes.   She just shook her head.

"Well,  I'm changing anyway."

It was a relief to put on the dry clothes, it made me realise it was now actually quite a pleasant though overcast summer evening.

Mary was already cooking boil in a bag  vegetable chilli, pointedly ignoring me.  As she removed the bag from the boiling water I opened up the dry-bag containing my own food.

"This is a meal for two I've just cooked"  she snapped at me.   It was the first time she'd spoken to me for hours.

"Thank you"  I mumbled.   "You can't be comfortable in those wet clothes."

She just shrugged then started to eat.  I'll change as soon as I've finished this."  While she ate she looked at her phone, carefully holding it so I couldn't see the screen.

While I made some instant coffee she went into the tent to change.   After about five minutes I heard her call me for help.  I went into the tent and she reluctantly asked me help remove her wet walking trousers over her injured ankle.

"Aren't you going to stop staring at my legs and help me put the dry pair on?" she complained.

Sometimes she really irritated me.   I pulled off her wet socks.

"Thank you.   Trousers please!"   She was starting to sound demanding.

I took a deep breath,  then hesitated, before replying.   "You'd run better without them."

She gave me a strange stare.   "Why the fuck would I want to run now?"

"If you were hunted."

She froze,  mouth half open, for several seconds.   "I hate hunting.  Fucking selfish bastards chasing some terrified innocent creature just for fun, then getting off on seeing it torn limb from limb."  She took a breath "Putting their hands in its blood,  laughing as their hounds rip out its intestines.  Such senseless waste and cruelty,  all just for fun... "

"You sound as if you've imagined yourself in the place of that poor hunted animal?  Being chased to the point of exhaustion,  knowing the death that awaits you if you can't escape."

"I suppose you approve of hunting then,  you bastard!"  she spat.

"Not of innocent animals."  I wondered whether to stop before I went too far.   But I carried on  "But if it was wasn't an innocent animal.   If it was a guilt ridden selfish bitch deserving pain and misery ..."

I knew this would almost certainly end badly.   I was about to pass the point of no return.  I pushed her onto her back then grabbed her arms to pull her round towards me.   Mary screamed as I started roughly tugging her fleece up over her head.

"Go on,  scream,  there's no-one within miles of us here."   She screamed again.   "Animals don't wear clothes.  Have you ever seen a hunted doe wearing a fleece and panties?"

She froze,  stopping struggling.   "You... "

She let me pull her fleece off up over her head.  "Who ARE you?"  She hesitated "On .... the internet?"

I didn't answer that question, but just pulled her out of the tent.   I accidentally, through carelessly,  tore her baselayer vest as I tugged that off her.   "What do you call yourself...No!   Not my panties.... " 

Then I her dragged her by her good ankle about fifteen feet across the short damp moorland grass on her back.

"Go on.  I'll give you three minutes to get away then I'll be coming after you."  That reminded me to remove her watch.

She got to her feet and stood facing me,  stark naked and panting frantically.   "My boots!   At least let me wear my boots... "

"You're wasting time standing there whining.   You should be making the most of the last few minutes of your life!" 

She looked down at her feet once more, then took a step towards me and spat in my face before turning and running off.   She set off on a level route but to avoid a boggy area had to turn right and head uphill, her slightly awkward gait showed that her ankle was still troubling her.   I checked my watch.  One minute to go.   I got out my phone and took a photo of the distant fleeing naked figure, made insignificant against the huge bleak backdrop of the moor.   Then I set off in pursuit.

I didn't have to run too fast to start closing the distance between me and Mary.  She hadn't looked back for a while,  when she did turn to see me in pursuit she speeded up.  Despite her limp she now almost held her distance as she headed up to and eventually rounded a granite outcrop.

I hurried my pace a bit to keep her in sight as she frantically stumbled down the other side of that hill.  When she looked back and saw I had already reached the weathered rocky summit she started running headlong downhill, ignoring any pain from her ankle.  Even with boots on I nearly lost my footing on the uneven sloping ground as I pursued her.  

Then she tripped or stumbled and fell headlong down the slope.   She lay still for several seconds, I slowed my pace and walked down the hill.  Surely she couldn't be that badly hurt?   I took a photo on my phone of the distant pale body sprawled face down,  the light wasn't so good as earlier and I realised the sun was getting lower behind the veil of thin cloud.  But then Mary got back up onto her hands and knees.  I took another photo, then carried on walking.  

She looked round and saw me pointing my phone at her. "No!" I think she shouted,  her voice carried away by wind.  She changed direction slightly,  turning down the valley instead of heading straight downhill towards the stream.  This took her through another area of peat bog.

Seeing Mary stumbling and splashing about,  making slow progress through the brown peaty water,  clambering on all fours over the occasional firmer tussocks of grass,  I decided to skirt round the higher side of the waterlogged mire.   I  watched my step, carefully testing for load bearing ground before before shifting my weight.

Looking up I realised I was actually further away from Mary,  by now totally covered in the glutinous brown water,  her muddy hair hanging across her face.   As I spotted the the rotted carcass of a small cow nearby , its white ribs half submerged in the deep slimy peat, I suddenly felt real concern for Mary.  At times she disappeared from view altogether, I could only really spot her by her movement,  she was hardly recognisable as a human if she paused,  her brown streaked body merging into the landscape.

Yet by the time she got clear of the bog she had gained perhaps a quarter of a mile on me,  and the light was starting to fade.  I ran as fast as I could,  heart pounding, realising I had to catch her before she reached the road.   If a car passing along a bleak moorland road encountered a frantically fleeing filthy stark naked woman the driver would be sure to call the police, I didn't even want to guess at the consequences of that.

Although I  only regained a little of the distance between myself and Mary I had driven her towards an area of dense gorse.  I hoped that I'd got her cornered but she quickly found a narrow pathway heading on slightly downhill between the low,  yellow flowered, prickly shrubs.  As she headed on deeper into the thicket her pace slowed and I could see that she was having to take care where she placed her bare feet and legs.   As I pursued her down the path worn through the gorse I realised it was getting narrower,  a few even narrower paths headed off from the main one which itself was now almost disappearing as the prickly bushes either side closed in and got higher,  up to waist height.

The sharp spines were tugging somewhat uncomfortablly at my walking trousers, so I could imagine how they would be scratching Mary's legs, thighs and hips.   I paused for just a                 moment and watched at her progress.   She was clearly struggling to force her way through as the track had just about disappeared in front of her.   She looked back at me, mouth wide open in a shout I didn't hear, then stumbled and fell from sight.  I forced my way onward as fast as I could.   Regaining her feet she reappeared and pushed on away from me,  turning sideways to her left,  arms raised above the height of the gorse.   But by then she was hardly making any progress at all and within a few minutes I had caught up with her.

Mary said nothing,  but just stood staring at me,  panting hard.  

"You've lost ..."  I waited for her reaction.

She stared intensely at me "What happens now ..."  Her left hand moved over her left breast.   "To me?"  Her right hand dropped to cover her crotch and she leaned slightly forward.

"You're the hunting expert."  I teased her.   "What do you think is supposed to happen?" 

"Oh shit!"  Tears welled up in her eyes and she sank to her knees.   Then I realised that she was fingering herself with her right hand,  while the fingers of her left hand were tenderly brushing her left nipple.

"One dead little vixen!"  I laughed.  Then she actually smiled at me,  inserting a couple of her fingers deep into her vagina.   I moved round behind her knelt down then put my left arm round her neck,  forcing her head backwards.   I pulled her hand away from her cunt and replaced her fingers with mine,  working deeper into her as she arched her back.   As she started uttering weak moans with each breath I inserted a third finger,  rhythmically pushing deeper into her.  

When she tried crying out louder I tightened my left arm round her neck pulling her head back so I could look into her eyes.   But she still managed a strangled scream as she came with a shudder.

"La petite mort." I said as I released her to fall limply to the ground. 

"So you did kill me.   A little."  She weakly replied as I looked down at her pale sweat soaked body,  covered in red scratches from the waist down.

"It's getting dark,  we need to get back to the tent."  I suggested, returning to  reality.  I tried pushing and kicking the gorse aside as best I could as we slowly made our way back out of the thicket.   As I led her round the edge of the boggy area I realised she had started shivering violently so I removed my jacket and fleece and put them on her.

It was just about pitch dark by the time we reached the rocky outcrop.  The other side of  it the wind was almost blowing a gale and we couldn't work out exactly where our tent was in the colourless darkness.  I scanned the moor with my torch,  focussed to its narrowest beam hoping to see the bright orange of the tent.

"It's too far away,  you'll never see it."  Mary stared the obvious.

We found a relatively sheltered area in amongst the heather behind the huge rocks, I gathered more heather from close around and heaped it alongside the spot we'd chosen.   As we settled down and I prepared to pull the stacked heather over us Mary took off my jacket and spread it over the two of us.

It was a clear night,  the stars shone brightly, with no artificial light to lighten the black sky in which they were set.   That did however mean the temperature dropped rapidly and we huddled tightly together for warmth.  Mary rolled to her right, away from  me, and I moved closer to her, putting my right arm over and round her,  pulling her body towards me,  pressing her buttocks in to my belly.  She shivered a little.  I moved my right hand up under my fleece which she was still wearing and felt her tummy, caressing her navel with my fingers. 

To my surprise Mary moved her right hand back across to my hips then gently eased her fingers under the waistband of my trousers.  Encouraged,  I moved my hand slowly down towards her bare crotch.   As my fingers touched the top of her pubic hair her fingers reached mine too.   As her long fingers delicately embraced my stiffening cock I gentle eased my fingers into her vagina.

As I brought her to an orgasm she firmly pumped away at my cock.   She couldn't help crying out and arched her back away from me;  I pulled her onto her back, pushed the fleece up round her neck and slid on top of her.  Holding back my own orgasm I pushed deep into her and, as she writhed and screamed, I came ecstatically.  Panting, I lay on top of her,  delighting in the feel of her chest rising and falling beneath my weight.   It was all my recent dreams come true!

"You ..." She panted,  pushing me off her.   "You stupid fucking bastard."

It wasn't quite the reaction I'd hoped for!

There was a slight note of panic in her voice.   "I'm not on the pill or anything."  She paused.   "Do you realise what you might have done?"

"Sorry!"  I quickly replied.   But I wasn't.  I probably should have said more,  but didn't.  However we did spend most of the night in each others arms,  just to keep warm.

At first light I wriggled out from under the jacket and piled heather.   Looking down the hill I could now easily spot our bright orange tent little more than a mile away.   I woke up Mary and she stood up,  stark naked in the chill morning air,  looking round.   For a moment I thought she was going to run.   I was conscious that I was staring;  she looked a bit of a mess,  perhaps more animal than human with her hair matted over her face and the little scratches the gorse had mad all over her legs and lower body had turned darker.  I noted her goosebumps and erect nipples.   She was starting to  shiver a bit.

I handed my fleece back to her,  as she was putting  it on I started to remove my trousers.

"What do you think you're doing now!" she exclaimed with a sense of exasperation.

"You can wear these, in case anyone sees us,  I've still got my boxer shorts."

"Piss off!" she spat back ungratefully.   "It's so early no one will be about yet."

I shrugged dismissively, wondering if she was deliberately inviting more trouble.

"They'd hurt my scratches."  she explained.

I wondered whether to offer her my shorts but, selfishly,  decided she looked quite fetching naked from the waist down and almost hoped some walkers would appear to embarrass and humiliate her.

To my disappointment Mary kept insisting I walked in front.   Reflecting on the previous evening I decided not to antagonise her more than necessary;  she hadn't accused me of anything to my face but I guessed there would be a load of trouble for me if she wanted to make a fuss or involve the police when we got back.

We hadn't been walking for much more than five minutes before a couple of walkers appeared over the ridge behind the tent.   Mary exclaimed  "Keep down."  I felt a sense of relief that she hadn't screamed out for help or run towards them as we crouched down amongst the heather in a slight dip.

I could see two men were heading along the track which ran past our camp.   I watched with concern as they reached the empty tent,  one of them  bent down and seemed to be looking at something on the ground.

"My clothes!" hissed Mary.

But then they moved on without investigating the tent itself.  We waited, for about half an hour,  until they disappeared from sight before hurrying on down to the tent,  hoping no one else would appear.

"You can go in the tent to get dressed if you want" I suggested,  somewhat ironically as I had stood staring at her nude body only an hour or so earlier.

"My panties!" Mary exclaimed as she started gathering her scattered clothes.  "The bastards have stolen my panties."  she said,  turning to face me - her face flushed with anger.  "Why would they do that?   They haven't even seen who they belong to!"

"There are some strange people around."  I said,  without thinking.

Mary stared at me "You should certainly know about that!"

We rejoined Chris,  Dave and Sue at the Warrener's Arms.   Sat in front of the log fire in the bar Sue asked Mary how she'd got on and how her ankle was now.   Dave cheekily asked Mary how she'd got on sharing a tent with me.   Her hesitation in replying attracted Chris and Sue's attention.

Mary suddenly looked trapped,  she turned to look at me "You enjoyed sleeping out under the stars didn't you?"

"You didn't,  did you?" asked Sue.

I nodded.

Dave laughed "You should have asked me to stay behind with you.   You'd have had a less boring time then!"

Mary stuck her tongue out at him.

I could think of nothing to say to Mary on the journey home,  apart from again  enquiring after her ankle.

It was the following evening when I logged in to the fetish site.   To my dismay "Hunted Doe" was no longer on there.  I looked at some pictures she'd commented on;  her comments were still there,  but now by "User Deleted".

I opened a bottle of wine, intended to drink just one glass with my takeaway meal.   With a sense of loss I drank the whole bottle then fell asleep on the sofa.  

It was half past two in the morning when I awoke.  Just before I crawled into bed  I decided to check on .my phone to see if Revy had posted a new Story Contest.   It was then that I noticed there was a comment on my profile.

By 'User Deleted'.

I read  "I can't sleep at night worrying someone might sneak in to my bungalow.  I have always left a key hidden in the dog's kennel as I occasionally lock myself out if the door slams behind me.   But I keep getting horrible dreams that some pervert finds it and assaults me as I sleep."