The Storm

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An unexpected visitor has his way with her.
2.7k words
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48.1k
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As the thunder crashed once more causing the windows to rattle, I closed the bedroom door after checking on the four-year-old to make sure he was still sleeping. Nights like this, I am thankful he is a heavy sleeper, just like his father.

I swiftly walk the short hallway, my canvas junior high cheerleader style sneakers barely making noise on the polished hardwood floor. I snuggle deeper into my oversized white sweater that brushed my jeans at mid-thigh, trying to warm myself against the chill of the storm. As I set a kettle of water on the stove for a cup of tea, a flash of lightning causes the lights to flicker. I decide to abandon the idea of tea.

I turned to the fridge, my back to the window in the living room, when the next round of thunder caused the house to rattle. The noise from the thunder, combined with the house rattling from the force of it, masked the sound as the window opened. I did not realize someone was opening the window, reaching in to unlock the door, and slipping inside until it was too late.

Before I knew what was going on, before I even realized there was a man in the house, a blindfold had been placed over my eyes and a balled up cloth had been roughly shoved into my mouth. When I realized what was going on, I struggled and tried to fight off the hands that were wrenching my arms behind my back. When he went to tie my hands behind me, I caught the slight scent of Irish Spring soap mixed with the mild smell of Aqua Velva and stale cigarette smoke.

"Do as I say and no one gets hurt," came the order from behind me, close to my ear. He jerked my head back with a yank of my hair and pulled me into what I guessed was the living room from the distance he directed me. He threw me down to the floor so he could tie my legs together, my cheek hitting the carpet, confirming my guess that I was in the living room now, the only room with carpet.

With a knee in the small of my back, he untied my arms just long enough to remove my sweater, revealing a plain white cotton bra. He took care to retie my hands behind my back.

He picked me up as though I was a sack of flour and tossed me onto my back on the near by couch. As I struggled against him, his hand covered my breast and groped hard enough to leave a bruise. While pinching one nipple through the material of my bra, he again took my hair in his other fist and pressed his full weight on top of me. "Scream and you will regret it," came the whispered command from the raspy voice which was obviously affected by the two-packs-a-day.

He removed the gag, and before I could form any voice to protest, his mouth crushed mine. My lips closed tight in protest and he put his hand around my throat, applying enough pressure to restrict my breathing, forcing my mouth to open slightly in an attempt to gasp a breath. As soon as my lips parted in a desperate attempt to get a breath, his tongue plunged into my mouth and his hand left my throat to continue groping my breasts. In an act of defiance, I bit down on his tongue.

Suddenly, I felt his hand leave my hair and come crashing down across my cheek, his left hand continued to maul my breasts, but in a harsher manner now, a way to make me regret biting him. I was startled when I felt the cold steel edge of his ever-present pocket knife he keeps in the right hip pocket of his jeans. He slipped the blade under the material that joins the cups of my bra in the middle and cut through it. I gasp as he, still holding the knife between my breasts, as if threatening me with it, unzips his jeans and shoves his entire length into my mouth.

"Repeat that little stunt and you will wish all you get is the back of my hand," comes the grumbled warning. I start to gag from the sheer sudden length of his cock. It was more from the lack of warning before he invaded the back of my throat that caused the gagging reflex then anything else. As soon as he felt the first motion of my throat closing to him, however unintentional it was, he brought his hand down hard against my already bruised and sore breasts.

As he is standing there, forcing himself into my throat over and over, he uses the knife to cut my belt, and then pulls the snap of my jeans open, breaking the zipper in his attempt to open it. He removes himself from my mouth and replaces the balled up cloth gag. I try to struggle to free myself from him, but another slap to the face causes me to be still. He out weighs me by a considerable amount and uses this to his advantage in restricting my ability to move as he unties my legs and quickly removes my shoes, socks and pants.

He retied my ankles and picked me up over his shoulder. As he made his way to the chair across the room, he landed several slaps to my now almost bare ass. When he got to the chair, he threw me into it with enough force to cause it to slide back several inches.

Despite my struggles, I could not prevent him from forcing my legs open and binding my legs to the chair, forced open, my ankles tied to the bottoms of the chair legs, my knees forced wide open, tied over the arms of the chair, my arms tied to the horizontal slats on the back, still behind my back.

I hear a muffle, as if his breathing had been altered or masked. He comes close to my ear again, but this time I can't feel his breathing. With one hand tangled in my hair, pulling my head back to expose my throat to him, and the other around my throat, he grumbles into my ear, "Now, I want you to see what I'm about to do to you. I want you to see my cock as it enters you." With that he removes the blindfold and I discover why I could not feel his breath as he leaned in to speak to me. The muffling sound I heard was him putting on a knit ski mask to obscure his face from me.

Again, the pocket knife is brandished. He runs the back side of it from the gully between my breasts, as if daring me to move, down past my belly button, to the waste band of my plain white cotton panties. The hand not holding the knife is holding my hair still, forcing my vision to follow the knife's slow, maniacal path down my body. My vision is cloudy from the tears that were now flowing freely. "You want this, and you know it, so knock off the crying," he says from between my legs. When the tears continue to flow, his hand comes crashing down on my most private lips. I cry out from under the gag from the sting of the slap and he lands another one to the same spot, laughing at my reaction to the stinging pain. He uses the knife to cut away my panties, giving himself direct access to what he wants.

As he slapped my swollen lips and clit again, he leaned in and grumbled in my ear, "See, I told you that this was what you knew you wanted, isn't it? Watch as I fuck you; watch as my cock fucks your little whore pussy." No matter how much I try to shake my head in protest, he holds it steady and I curse my femininity for betraying me and lubricating.

He pauses as he notices I am not looking. The back of his hand comes crashing against my cheek. As soon as the force of the slap causes me to open my eyes once again, he slams himself all the way into my wetness.

"Admit it, this is what you wanted, isn't it?" His question is answered with silence. He yanks my hair harder. He slams into me harder. "Yeah, this is what little cock tease wanted all along. You don't need to admit it, the proof is right here."

A muffled reply comes from behind the gag. With a bite to my sore nipple, he yanks the cloth from my mouth. "What was that, you little whore? Look at you, can't even lie to me, you know you wanted this all along, you are such a whore, you're about to cum."

"Drop dead," I reply through clenched teeth. If I can't get away from him, I can at least refuse him the satisfaction of being able to stick his tongue in my mouth. With that response, he pulled himself out and quickly slapped my swollen private lips twice, hard enough to make me whimper. I snuck a peek at his expression, what I could see of it from the holes in the mask, and his eyes told me that he knew. He knew from the whimper that my resolve was quickly fading away.

He slammed himself back into me and, using a hand on my breast for leverage, put his other hand around my throat again, applying just enough pressure. As my head began swimming from the danger of the situation mixed with his hand slowly restricting my windpipe, he repeated his question. "Admit it, bitch, this is what you wanted all along, isn't it?"

He took his hand from my throat and held my chin firmly in place as he tried again to kiss me. "Admit it as you clench my cock with your pussy while you cum. You wanted this all along. Little whore."

I refused to answer him. The most he would get from me was a "Drop dead," from clenched teeth which annoyed him even more.

Every time he heard the reply he would answer back with a slap to one body part or another, breast, cheek, ass, clit, or lips. "You're gonna cum," he would chuckle in a sing song manner at me, as if laughing at me while taunting me.

"Drop dead!"

"We will see about that after you cum. You know you want to." He chuckled, still taunting me. I curse my womanly reaction to the cock that was violating me. His hand comes down hard on my cheek, the slapping sound from it filling the room, echoed by the thunder outside. "We shall see, whore."

He pulls my hair, forcing my head back and exposing the tender flesh of my throat to him. I am completely open and vulnerable to him now, my arms and legs still tied to the chair, impossible to struggle out of the bonds, naked save for the ropes he used to bind me in this compromising position, one of his hands fisted in my hair, pulling my head back, the other at my collar bone, ready to apply pressure if I made one false move, his shaft invading my most private of regions over and over again, the knife glinting as the lightning outside lit up the dim room.

He slams deeper into me again, pulling my head back even further, moving his hand from my collar bone to my breast, again grabbing as hard as he can, trying to kiss me once more. "Open your mouth," comes the command, which I ignore. Since it is impossible to fight the end result that I feel building deep within me, and struggling against him is both impossible and pointless, my best recourse is to ignore him, maybe he will grow bored and move on to someone else, fearful for my safety.

I feel him pinch and twist the nipple of the breast he was grabbing. "What the hell, whore?" he grits out. "Open your damn mouth. You are such a little cock tease. Can't even stop it during this, can you? Open your eyes and look at me while you are clenching my cock." Of course, I do anything but look at him. He pulls out again and slaps my swollen, slick lips even harder. I hear him ask again from between my legs "Are you still going to deny that you are going to cum? That this is what you wanted all along? That while you were busy teasing everyone that you really wanted me to fuck you?"

"Drop dead," was all I could muster while trying to hold back the orgasm I felt building up in me.

He chuckled and slapped me again. After three more stinging slaps, he reentered me and used the fingers that were now moistened from the punishment to pry my mouth open. "Clean them off or I'll make you gag on them, bitch." Playing along with his demand for a moment, I only give slight resistance to his fingers as they open my mouth, prying my teeth apart. When his fingers are in my mouth enough for him to consider them cleaned off, I start to close my teeth with his fingers still between my jaws. When he feels this, he shoves them in far enough to make me gag slightly on them. "You are going to pay for that." He again lands the back of his hand across my sore breasts, one slap to each. "Now, you know you are going to cum, bitch, no use fighting it, so just do it. I can feel you already starting to clamp my cock with your pussy. Admit it, you really want to cum, don't you, whore?"

I shake my head in as much denial as his grip will let me. He knows I am lying, I know I am lying. "Yes, you do. Admit it. This is what you wanted all along, isn't it?" He pulls my ear to stop me from shaking my head no, he wants a response, and he wants one now.

"No!"

"Bull shit! I just felt you tighten. You are about to cum and you and I both know it, bitch, but, you are an obstinate little girl, denying what we both know."

I ignored him and refused to let myself reach orgasm. He got annoyed again and untied and rebound my legs to the back legs of the chair instead of the front and climbed onto the chair in front of me, pulling my head back as far as my neck would allow.

He put the tip of his shaft against my lips. When I didn't open my mouth for him, he grabbed my hair with one hand and reached down to slap my stinging and spread lips, catching my clit with his fingers. I gasped and he took the opportunity to shove himself all the way in my mouth.

"Don't even think about it, little girl. Taste yourself on my cock. Tell me you didn't want it. Deny to me that this is not what you wanted all along while you taste your own cum on my cock."

I mumble around his shaft, agreeing with him, finally broken. "Yeah, that's what I thought. You are about to cum just from this aren't you, whore?"

"Yes," comes my mumbled reply from around his member intruding in my mouth.

"Well, how about this?" He asks as he shoves himself all the way into the back of my throat. This time I do not gag on him, since I am ready for it. As he shoves his entire length into my mouth and my lips rest on the base of him, he obtains his release.

I feel his final pleasure as it hits the back of my throat, squirting warm and thick ropes of cum down my throat.

He removes my blindfold after he is finished, along with his ski mask, unties me, and kisses me. This time I do not fight it, but enjoy and revel in it. He leads me into our bedroom just as the storm causes the lights to go out. We fall asleep in each other's arms, his strong hands gently rubbing the kinks out of my shoulders caused by the binds he had used earlier.

When he and I discussed acting out this fantasy previously, he had said he was going to do it, but I didn't believe him. I guess I learned more then one lesson that night about the man I married.

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3 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousalmost 16 years ago
no, no, no

I know theres no category in here called "rape", but thats what this is, pure and simple. Also you write like a guy tying to impress a bunch of boys jerking off. Soften it up, honey!

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 16 years ago
Eh...

I actually liked this one a lot my first time reading it. And then you throw in this two-paragraph WIMP ending. If you're going to write non-consent, it shouldn't be a consensual fantasy roleplay. Wrong category, and that bit completely ruins a second read. Bummer.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 16 years ago
You treat the POS as a hero

POS being a PIECE OF SHIT

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