{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"09e89f01-acb0-4a33-b5e6-73bdbe0cc59a","seriesId":null,"seriesName":null,"currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2025-07-13T16:56:38.713Z","title":"Mr. Nobody","slug":"mr-nobody","shortId":"2kYaYRmu","authorNote":"This story starts from a real life experience I had, goes into fantasy mode, then back into real, then back into fantasy. The change is marked with a *. I had a lot of fun with this and I hope you do as well.","disclaimer":"This story contains fantasy snuff.","type":"Short","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"As I go on my evening run, I'm met with an offer that is too good to be true. Only issue is: I can't stop asking for more.","partCount":1,"parts":[{"partId":"c06e53e5-b6bc-446d-8f36-e59ed68f776c","title":null,"summary":"*\n“Sorry, what?”\nI was in the final minutes of my \nevening run. I had my favorite podcast screaming ","wordCount":2826,"readTime":14,"number":1,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"

“Sorry, what?”

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

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

The man that stopped me capturing my \nattention was a middle aged office man. One you wouldn’t notice if he \nwouldn’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 \nsomething, or attempt an approach. So I kept my two feet distance, ready\n 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\n I’m running really late for dinner” I replied, thinking about having \ndinner 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 \nstatistics on how shoes get worn out, so that shoe manufacturers can \nimprove their products' durability. I’m here to collect as many used \nshoes as possible to then bring back to our center and analyze for \ndesign flaws”.

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

“I’m proposing to you, as to any \nother person that wants, to change your shoes right now with a pair of \nnew 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\n only have to leave me your shoes, right now, and go home with this new \npair” he concluded, dangling the new shoes in front of me.

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

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

Me being me, I weighed in the fact \nthat he was just a foot pervert wanting to bring home used running shoes\n from women to sniff and masturbate to. But I don’t mind people wanking \nin the privacy of their home, thinking about me or not. And the deal was\n 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 \nas the sun had setted during the conversation with Mr.Nobody. I found \nmyself alone again, too distracted by my recent interaction with him to \nkeep listening to my podcast, as I started walking home feeling a bit \nlight-headed.

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

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

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

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

But as fast as I ran away from that \nbrief encounter I wanted to go back and get his eyes on me again. I was \nnow getting horny at the idea he was doing it for his fetish, that he \nwent home, kneeled on the bathroom floor and shoved his face in my old \nrunning shoes, filling his lungs with my smell before cumming all over \nthe floor. I wouldn’t have slept with him in a million years, but the \nidea he would become obsessed with me was fueling my instincts like \nnothing 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 \nwhereabouts, only to find him busy speaking to two other men. The trunk \nof the car was open, the shoe boxes clearly displayed for others to see.\n My self-esteem took the hit: he was not a pervert, he was honestly \ndoing his job on the street.

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

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

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

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

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

“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 \nrealized I was giving my back directly to him, on a dark road near an \nempty public park. Not the smartest move of my life, if I have to be \nhonest. But it wasn’t the first stupid thing I had done that day.

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

Then I discovered that the shoe boxes\n in the back of his car were all empty. At the very back of the trunk a \nshovel 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 \nsaid, standing up in front of him. “It’s also very fucked up that I feel\n honored in a way that you went to this extent to meet me, but I think \nthat’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, \nlooking at the shovel he was holding. “Hunter and prey. The desirable \nprey provoking the hunter. The hunt. The possibility of failure. The \nrisk 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.\n I’m faster than you. This is why, if you run towards the city, I will \ntake you immediately. But if you run back into the park, I will give you\n a two minute advantage. At midnight I will stop searching for you, and \nyou 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 \ncloser. I could smell his fresh breath. I felt his erection through his \npants 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 \nas fast as possible, tears running down my cheeks. My body was burning \nfrom the amount of exercise I had done, but the adrenaline rush kept me \ngoing.

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

When I was 15, I used to play \nvolleyball. I loved the competition, the group of us going on a fight \nagainst another group of females. Those were also the days of the \ndiscovery of my own sexuality. I used to fantasize about having a big \norgy with the older man team as a prize for the winning team. Then I \nstarted fantasizing about being the losers of the match and having to \nwatch our opponents fuck our man team, having to collect their dirty \nclothes from the match while they had sex in our locker room. One day, \none of my teammates forgot a dirty sock under the bench when she left \nand I stole it. Fueled my masturbation for days before my mom discovered\n it and washed it.

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

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

And then, more than 20 years later, \nthere was this big rock I didn’t see. As I stepped on it trying to \nescape, it moved under me and caused an intense pain on my \nnever-fully-recovered right ankle. And that was my last step. The pain \ncame back even stronger. I lay on the ground, looking at the stars. A \nfull moon splashed a gray light all over the park. No darkness to \nprotect me.

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

Mr. Nobody came into my vision. He \nplanted the shovel next to me, rolling his shirt sleeves like you do \nbefore 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 \nvery first one escaped. The second one dug her own grave. She was a \nperverted bitch. My third attempt tried to run, but I managed to bag her\n directly into the trunk of my car. Peed all over it. But you… you \nplayed 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 \nme the shoes. You came back to say hi. You even came back again to \nstretch in front of me. I loved it. I can’t wait to be a part of your \nlife”.

“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.\n You will go into your grave and your shoes will stay with me forever. \nLet’s not risk it anymore, Daniela. Trust me, it’s easy if you close \nyour 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 \nroom was empty, but I could hear the big orgy taking place in the next \nroom. Did we lose the match? Who is collecting the clothes of the \nwinning team? Someone had taken my legging off. That was unnecessary. I \nfeel naked. Do I taste blood? Or is that cum?

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

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

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