An Unwelcome Visitor

by Anne Zvesteit

    

Saturday afternoon. Early Spring.

An attractive young woman hums to herself as she vacuums the carpet in her living room. She's wearing a french maid's outfit -- one would almost call it a costume, but its high quality suggests that it is meant as clothing rather than for humor.

The woman's long, brown hair falls loosely over her shoulders, contrasting against the white blouse covering her D-cup breasts. The traditional black corset fits snugly under the bustline, emphasizing the round fullness of her breasts. The black satin apron almost covers the frilly white ruffled petticoat, which comes down to mid-thigh level. She is wearing fishnet stockings and black pumps with 2 inch high heels. She's wearing makeup, perfume, and dangly earrings.

It's not a uniform that's conducive to efficiency in cleaning houses. Obviously, someone has dressed her this way for their sexual pleasure.

But the house is not a mansion. The owner of this house makes a comfortable living, but nowhere near the income required to employ a full time sexy maid. Not even enough to rent one for a day. There is no husband or boyfriend present to watch the show. She is alone in the house.

We can only conclude that the woman is dressed this way because it's she herself who wants to dress that way.

Our suspicions are confirmed when she bends over to move a chair. Any real professional maid would bend at the knee when reaching down, but the woman bends at the waist with legs slightly spread apart. A hint of black satin panties and garter belt shows briefly, then she rubs her hands from thighs to breasts and back again as she rises in obvious sexual pleasure. She's clearly enjoying this.

She resumes vacuuming, humming to herself happily.

Suddenly a hand clamps over her mouth as a strong, hairy arm grabs her by the waist and lifts her off the floor. A low voice growls in her ear, "If you make one little sound, I will twist your head clean off your body. You understand?"

Terrified, she slowly nods her assent, eyes glancing back in a futile attempt to see her attacker.

"Good." The man, a beefy punk in t-shirt and dirty jeans, removes his hand from her mouth and quickly retrieves a switchblade knife from his back pocket. He holds it to the woman's throat, close enough for her to feel the blade pressing into her skin. "I've been watching your little cock-tease show for a while, and now we're gonna have a little fun, you and me. And if I have enough fun, you get to keep all your precious blood inside your hot little body. You understand?"

She's about to be raped. You can see the terror in her eyes as she silently nods assent again.

"Please don't kill me", she pleads in a quavering whisper. "Please don't kill me, please don't kill me", she repeats, more to herself than to the man.

The man sets her down on the ground, then steps on the vacuum power switch to turn it off. The razor-sharp knife at her throat drowns any thought the woman might have had about screaming for help.

The man's free arm reaches up to her breasts, squeezing them roughly. "Oh, yeah, you got nice tits, you know that?", he asks in a low growl. She doesn't answer, except to wince in fear at his touch.

"You got me all worked up, you little tease, and now it's time to take care of business. Now listen carefully. What's gonna happen is, you're gonna get down on your knees and suck my cock. You look like a real good cocksucker, huh?"

She winces again in terror.

"And I know you're thinking about escape, and maybe you can get away by biting down on my cock. Let me tell you how that ends: if I feel one tiny bit of teeth touching my cock, I will cut your nose off your face, knock your teeth out of your head, and poke my little foldup friend here into your eyeballs one at a time." The blade at her throat moves a tiny bit deeper, threatening to draw blood from the jugular vein just beneath. "After that I will really start to get revenge. Do you have any doubt that I will do this?"

She silently nods "no".

"Good girl. You do everything right, and you'll be just fine. Now, on your knees, you hot little trollop."

He removes his knife from her throat. She has a brief chance to run, to kick, to fight, to hurt him enough for her to escape, but she doesn't take it. He would win. He will win.

She drops slowly to her knees in front on him, seeing his face for the first time. She doesn't study his face, thinking (correctly) that he would consider that a kind of resistance.

She's almost crying, although whether it's from fear or embarrassment or anger or horror, we don't know. She stares at the ground as he takes off his clothes.

He moves back in front of her and says, "Look at me."

She looks up to his face, pausing almost imperceptibly when as her eyes pass his cock, stiff and ready and only inches from her face.

"That's a good girl. I wanna see your eyes when you taste my cock for the first time. You understand?"

She nods silently.

"Good. Now suck my cock, and you'd better make it good."

She hesitantly moves her mouth forward, opening her lips to accept the helmet into her mouth, keeping eye contact with her rapist all the while.

Whether she tastes the pre-cum oozing out of the tip, she does not let on. Resigned to her fate, nevertheless she tries to retain as much dignity as she can in the situation. She closes her eyes and concentrates on sucking the helmet in order to get it over with as soon as possible.

But he has other plans. Taking the back of her head with both hands, he roughly pulls her closer, pushing his cock deep into her mouth until she gags on it, her lips touching his pubic hair gently. She emits a muffled "mpph" of surprise and alarm, and her eyes fly open at this new outrage. But she dare not let him feel the slightest pain from her teeth.

He savors the sensation of her gagging on his cock for a moment, then pulls her head back and forth, forcing her to suck the entire length of his cock. Whether she struggles in vain against his iron grip, or doesn't struggle at all, we don't know.

They continue this way for several minutes, he holding her head and pushing it back and forth as he slowly increases the tempo, she gagging with each push forward onto his hard, quivering cock, and doing her best to provide suction and tongue (but no teeth!) on each push back.

"You little slut, you like sucking my cock, don't you?", he growls.

She correctly guesses that he doesn't really want an answer to that question.

Suddenly he stiffens, pulls his cock out of her mouth and masturbates his cum onto her face. Once, twice, three, four, five times a creamy glob shoots out onto her face as she sits on her knees watching it happen. For added humiliation he squeezes the last dregs out and wipes them on her lips. She does nothing to stop him. She appears numb.

Any hopes that she may have had of her ordeal being over evaporate as he drops down into the couch. Laying sideways on the cushions with his legs spread wide, he makes himself at home as she stares blankly ahead.

"Oh, yeah", he says, "that was the best blowjob I've had in a while. I think I just might come back every week."

If he expected this to provoke a response from her, she retains her composure enough to deny it to him.

"Now, let's see you do a little dance for me."

She remains, numb, on her knees, with cum dripping off her face, apparently unaware of his presence.

Faster than one would think possible, he's at her throat with the switchblade, growling, "I don't think you heard me. I wanna see you dance."

Now she is forced to acknowledge him. She looks in his eyes, rises to her feet and begins to clumsily try to dance with no music playing.

He laughs and returns to the couch. Apparently he doesn't care so much about the quality of the dancing as he does about the humiliation, and she's clearly humiliated by the demand.

"Show me your panties!", he says.

She turns around and obediently flips up her petticoat to show the black satin panties covering her ass, and the garter straps holding up her fishnet stockings.

He smiles, more of a leer than a grin. "Show me your pussy!", he demands.

She pretends not to hear him.

"Pull. Down. Your. Panties. And. Show. Me. Your. Pussy!", he growls angrily.

She clearly does not want to do this. But just as clearly he will not be denied.

Hesitantly she turns away from him and slowly pulls her panties down her legs until they lay on her shoes. She does not want to turn around.

A sharp click from the switchblade in his hand changes her mind. She turns around to face him and slowly pulls the petticoat up, up, up to reveal the tops of her stockings, the garter belt straps, the tops of her thighs, and then...a flaccid penis and scrotum.

He's on her in a millisecond, pushing her roughly up against the wall with his hand choking her.

"What the fuck is this?", he rages. "Are you telling me I just got a blowjob from a poofter?"

She tries to answer, but either the choking or the fear, or both, prevent her from doing more than move her jaw silently.

"Because if I just got a blowjob from a faggot, that means I'm a faggot, too. Do you think I'm a faggot?"

No, she manages to convey with her eyes and lips.

"So you're some kind of genetic freak, right? You got a big clit and fucked-up pussy lips. You do have a pussy, right?"

She doesn't know how to answer, staring at him in abject fear.

"Tell me you got a pussy, or I'm gonna have to make sure you do." He flicks open the switchblade for emphasis.

"I...I...I...I've got a pussy", she manages to stammer.

He lets her down and stops choking her, but doesn't let her go.

"Prove it." He backs slowly back to the couch. "You better fuckin' prove it, bitch, or I will cut your nuts off and make sure."

Shaking with fear, she lays on her back on the floor facing him. She puts her right hand under her petticoat and starts to move it around. She takes her left hand and lifts the petticoat up to show her crotch. Her right hand is covering her penis and ineffectively shaping the scrotum into a poor facsimile of pussy lips. It's not going to fool anyone. She braces herself for the angry outburst and multiple stab wounds.

"All right", he says. They're both aware that he's trying hard not to see the obvious, because that would be bad for both of them. "All right, yeah, diddle your pussy. And you'd better look like you're enjoying it."

She begins to rub her scrotum with her left hand, hiding the rest with her right, slowly at first, then faster. She begins to moan in pleasure, and although it sounds real it's almost certainly an act.

She starts to writhe in apparent pleasure as her left hand moves faster and faster, and her tormenter watches intently, stroking his semi-hard penis as she moves toward what appears to be a climax.

She spreads her legs and lifts her pelvis off the floor as she pretends to have a porn star orgasm, and her frenzied moans become an Ahhhh of relief that lasts for ten seconds until she collapses back to the floor. A single tear escapes her left eye, the only outward evidence of the profound humiliation inflicted upon her.

"Oh, yeah, that was good. Look, you got me all hard again. Turn over, I'm gonna fuck you doggy style. And I better not see any twigs-and-berries hangin' down there."

Having gone this far, she complies without hesitation. She keeps her right hand covering her genitalia as she presents her ass to him. The look on her faces tells that she hopes against hope that she will only be anally raped, not stabbed and left to die.

He spits on his hand several times, then uses the glob to coat the tip of his penis. He places the tip of his penis at the entrance to her anus, and says, "Tell me you want me to fuck you."

"I want you to fuck me", she says mechanically.

"Tell me you want me to fuck you hard, bitch."

"I want you to fuck me hard." A little less mechanical this time.

"Tell me you want it bad!"

"Oh, baby, I want it bad!" She's really playing it up this time.

"Then take it!", he growls as he slams his cock into her ass.

She cries out in pain. It's plain that she didn't mean to let that slip out. She grits her teeth to prevent any further sounds of pain emerging. He pulls out, then slams in again. She grimaces, but does not make a noise.

"You better make me believe you're liking this!", he growls.

She puts on her best porn star performance, moaning and groaning in apparent pleasure, flipping her hair, and talking dirty, as he slams his pelvis into her buttocks again and again.

"Fuck me!"

"Take it, bitch!"

"Fuck me hard!"

"Oh, God, you're one tight little cunt."

"Oh! Oh! Ugh! Yeah, yeah, yeah. Ugh! Yeah! Yeah!"

"Oh, shit, I'm gonna fucking come."

"Oh, give it to me. Fuck me! Fuck me!"

The man gives a last frenzied burst of thrusts as he orgasms, pushing his cock deep inside her as he spurts his load deep into her ass, and she pretends to orgasm at the same time.

They pause a moment, then he pulls his deflating cock out of her ass and quickly gets his clothes on. She sits on the floor where she was so rudely and brutally violated. Neither speaks.

As he walks out the front door, she raises her right hand to wave goodbye. It's covered in milky-white liquid. Apparently she actually did have an orgasm.

"Bye, Tony. See you next week!"

  

  

  

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© 2007 by Anne Zvesteit. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.