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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2005. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial
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Unlawful Entry
by Mr. Silk (mistersilk@gmail.com)
***
In the middle of the night, you wake from your dreams
into a nightmare. (MF, nc, rp, bd, v, anal)
***
You don't remember what you were dreaming. You can't
remember if it was pleasant or upsetting. All of it has
disappeared in the wake of what followed, but when you
look back on this night, cringing and shuddering at
images and sensations that you cannot push from your
mind, you do remember that you were dreaming.
A hard click and the snap of cold metal against your
wrists rips you from sleep, forces all memories of
dream from your mind. It is disorienting, and for a
moment all you have are impressions that your brain
cannot put together -- a weight upon your body, a large
shadow looming over you, the chill of night air on your
exposed toes, and your arms... Your arms are above your
head, hands slipped into the slats of your headboard,
and you cannot lower them, they are caught, restrained,
they are...
Then the shadow draws close, and you see a faceless
man. His eyes gleam cold in the dim light of your
bedroom. The rest is obscured by a black ski mask. When
he speaks you see a motion in the mask, but cannot see
his mouth.
"Don't scream." You suck a breath anyway, and are about
to disobey him, when he rises up the knife in his hand.
It gleams in the moonlight, and you see your own face
reflected off its polished edge. The fear pours out of
your eyes. Your lips hang open, the scream choked back
with a shuddering stillness.
"I don't want to hurt you." His voice is low. Too low.
It spills down from his lips like liquid lead. You feel
the weight of his voice pressing you down. "But I will.
You know I will. Don't you?"
You nod.
"But I don't want to hurt you... Not much. Not too
much..." You feel the heat of his laugh against your
flushed and burning cheeks. He lowers his knife now,
bringing its edge against your face. It stings against
your hot skin -- so sharp, so cold.
"Then again, I bet you would like that, huh? You like
it to hurt a little bit." The blade draws its dangerous
trail down your mouth, pressing open your lips with its
tip, sliding down your pulsing throat.
"Yeah, that's just the kind of slut you are." The blade
pauses now at the base of your throat. It digs into the
tender flesh there. It digs just hard enough that you
think this just might be it. It might all be over. But
suddenly he slashes to the left, then right, cutting
the straps of your nightgown. He pulls back then, and
rips the nightgown open, exposing your breasts to the
night air, and to him.
He lets out a sigh at the sight. "I've been waiting to
see these all night, all month. Watching you come out
to the club. Seeing the way you tease every one of
those hard-pricks with your tits. Teasing them..." The
blade returns to your skin now, sliding across your
breasts. Moving in slow circles, he brings the edge
right up against your left nipple.
"Such a fucking slut," he says. "Letting them all look
at you. Letting them want you. Making them thing they
can't have you..." His gloved left hand takes hold of
your other breasts, squeezing it roughly. "But I know
the truth don't I? You can't hide the truth from me..."
The left hand moves downward. You feel the glove's
leather making its way down your belly. Down... "I
know. I know how much you want it. I know..." His
fingers reaching between his own legs to find you,
pressing against the soft mount of your pussy, pressing
into the fabric of your panties... "I know. You just
don't want to give it up..." The gloved hand slides
past your panties, shoves fingers roughly inside you...
"You want me to take it!"
The blade comes back up to your throat, as his fingers
continue to assault your cunt. You are unable to bite
back the gasps and whimpers as he invades you. Tears
begin to trickle down your face.
"Don't lie to me. Don't you fucking lie to me, bitch!"
He thrusting grows wilder. "Don't pretend you don't
like it. Don't pretend you don't love it! I know you
love it! Tell me. Tell me you love it!"
You open your mouth, but all you can let out is a long
and painful wail. "SAY IT, SLUT! SAY YOU LOVE IT!" And
the blade bites into your flesh.
"I love it!" You scream with a sob.
The sound of your admission seems to drive him on. He
moves with sudden ferocity. The blade of the knife is
driven into the headboard above you. It quivers there
as he tugs open his jeans. "That's right. That's right
you love it. You fucking love it. And you are going to
love THIS!" You close your eyes, not wanting to see his
cock plunge into you.
But he doesn't take your pussy, and you cannot hold
back the scream as he rips his way in into your ass.
"That's it! You can scream! Scream for me! Let me hear
how you love it!" Your whole lower body burns from
force of his cock. It fills you. It forces you open. It
spreads you wide.
You hear the sound of your own wailing. You hear your
voice bouncing with the rhythm of his thrusts. Outside
that sound, his muttered insults and groans of pleasure
seem so far away. But though you cannot make out the
words, you know the tone. He calls you meat. He calls
you his toy. He says you are good for nothing for
fucking.
And in that moment you feel it. With his cock raging
inside your ass, the frames the moment perfectly. You
feel like meet. You feel like a whore. And you feel
like this moment is the most right moment you have ever
felt. You were meant to be taken. You were meant to be
violated. You were meant to be fucked.
He groans suddenly, and rips you cock from you. As he
bellows out his orgasm, you feel the hot wet spray of
his cum landing upon your skin. It slides across your
tits. It pools in your belly button. It dangles from
your cheek.
In the stillness, you hear him zipping his pants back
up. You feel his weight against you as he leans over
you once more. There is a heavy "thunk" as he pulls his
knife out of the headboard. Will he use it now? Is it
all over?
The blade does not sink into your flesh. You feel him
leaving your bed, and then his footsteps trailing. He
has left you in handcuffs. He has left you alive.
Surely someone will come to find you. It will not be
long. Not too long. But as his fluids begin to dry upon
your skin, one thought blots out all others. Your tears
flow down your cheeks as your pulse tries to return to
normal, and all you can think is that, just before he
had his orgasm, you felt yourself have yours.
END
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 35