Rapist who realizes he’s falling in love with his past victim because he can’t stop masturbating to the memory of her. Rapist who uses the same pair of ripped up panties he stole from her as a cum rag to jerk off into every single time, because it gives him a high like no other. Rapist who took polaroids of her while she was tied up, and now he keeps them everywhere - in his wallet, in the glove box of his car, tacked to the ceiling above his bed. Rapist whose cock throbs every single time he remembers something about that night; the way she cried, the way she was dressed, her scent, the feel of her skin against his. Rapist who eventually caves to his own obsession and starts stalking that same victim again, after all that time had passed, because there’s just something about her. She’s just too perfect for him. She’s stuck in his head and won’t ever leave. She was the best girl he ever had. She’s the one.
