Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: redragon@interserv.com
Subject: The Invader (FM, rape, fantasy)
Date: 6 Nov 1995 23:33:24 GMT

			     The Invader
			       Prologue

	The second time I slept with Ron, he asked me what my sexual
fantasies were like. "The ones you've had since you were a teenager,"
he said.

	I told him they were private.

	"Oh, come on," he wheedled.

	So I told him the one that's brought me to a thousand
whimpering orgasms since I was eleven years old.

	He hasn't called since.

	That's okay. I have my trusty blue vibrator, Samantha Slut-
tickler (as I call her in whimsical moods); my KY jelly and "butt-
plugs" (as the sex shop catalogues insist on calling them in their
whimsical moods) and my two seven-inch dildoes and Fleet enema kits
and silk scarves and four-poster bed...

	And the man in the dark; the man I named "the invader", when
he first came to me in my head, so many years ago.

			     The Invader

	He's been quiet for a while. I strain, absurdly, to see, to
guess what he will do next.

	But the blindfold stays in place.

	I strain to hear his breathing. Maybe fifteen minutes ago he
was still gasping from the last session, and then his breath slowed,
quieted. Now it is inaudible.

	I wait to see what he'll do next. What he can possibly still
have to do next.

				* * *

	It started much earlier tonight. I had woken from a deep
sleep, alerted by I didn't know what. Fuzzily, I had shaken my head to
clear it, checked the bedside digital clock - 12:14 a.m. - and made my
way into the adjoining, darkened bathroom, not bothering to turn on
the light before I sat down to pee. I had just wiped myself between
the legs and turned to toss the paper into the toilet when I heard a
sound that, try as I might to dismiss it as the random movement of a
floorboard, seemed altogether too much like the stealthy creak of a
door - my bedroom door - opening a little wider. I froze, suddenly
wide awake, adrenaline sloshing sickeningly through me. My heart beat
in my ears. A minute passed. I began to relax; then did so. I stepped
forward and swung the bathroom door open.

	And then I heard another sound. A sound that all single women
everywhere may go to bed at night dreading.

	It was a chuckle, a man's light, deliberate, dryly amused
laugh, there in my bedroom in the middle of the night, inside locked
doors and locked windows, a local patrol car perhaps cruising past
outside at that very moment, a billion miles away.

	I really think I could have died of fear right there in the
bathroom door; but the invader, my invader, was kind to me, in those
first moments of our meeting. He didn't let terror have its way with
me. That was a privilege he would reserve for himself. He cleared the
space between us in an invisible flash of motion that I barely had
time to feel, as a breeze coming towards me. The left side of my head
exploded with stars. I was flying sideways. The right side of my head
cracked savagely against the wall.

	The next thing I knew I was choking, struggling with the near-
impossible proposition of retching straight upwards while lying on my
back, arms seemingly stretched back above my head. It was a position
that sent screaming agony all through me, a grim, vicious battle for
air, as though I were drowning and being crucified all at once. I
fought to use my hands to help myself, but they refused to move.

	A swift, fierce downward pressure just below my breasts sent a
spatter of muck flying out of my mouth. I let out all the air in my
body in an astonished Whoosh!

	I found that I was breathing again, in great, ragged gasps. I
was tied by the wrists and the ankles, spread-eagled on my back, on
what could only be my bed. My arms were stretched in their sockets.
My legs were bound wide apart. Some kind of cloth had been knotted
about my eyes.

	A man laughed.

	Then, without warning, I felt him kiss me on the chin.

	Then I screamed.

	Then it began.

				* * *

	That was, by my best guess, about four hours ago. Now my body
is stiff with semen. My hair is clotted with sweat and tears. My
spread vagina throbs from the repeated insertion and thrusting of his
fingers and penis and tongue and things I could only guess at:
dildos? candles? root vegetables from the fridge? My breasts ache
where he has mouthed them like a puppy for fifteen minutes at a
stretch, then pulled and twisted at the nipples. My tongue is coated
with come. He held a knife at my throat and told me to open my mouth.
He pumped hot come in `til it oozed down the sides of my throat and I
was almost choked and had to swallow.

	He - the man I force myself to think of only as "the invader",
a desperately clinical name - has finished three distinct rounds of my
rape. During the first two attacks, I begged and cried and pleaded
until he cut me off by plastering strip after strip of electrical tape
across my mouth and, my nasal passages choked with tears and snot, I
lost consciousness again. Then he peeled the tape from my mouth and
let me come around. I am terrified to make a sound now.

	It's strange - when not being rough, he is gentle. He stroked
my vaginal lips and wet the hole with his tongue before pushing in a
dildo. He must have greased his finger with Vaseline or something
before inserting it in my rectum for the first time, and he waited
patiently for my outraged sphincter muscles to unclench a little
before first starting to move his finger back and forth in me. He has
not yet spoken, no matter how much I plead. His silence is beginning,
amongst all this fear, to feel like grace.

	Now I can hear him begin to stir. Has he been sitting on the
chair at my vanity table, watching me? I think he has.

	Soft pad of feet on carpet. A metallic groan of bathroom sink
taps being turned. Running water. Groan and quiet as the taps are
turned off again. Pad of feet toward the bed. Moments pass.

	Suddenly my hips are being raised off the bed in his hands. I
gasp. He grasps the cheeks of my buttocks in his hands and parts them.
Despite my will to keep silent, I gasp again as he glops what feels
like Vaseline with a finger on my abused anus, rubbing it along and
within the rectal rim. Now a narrow something - a nozzle? - is
entering. It still feels so strange to be entered there. A pause.
Slowly, it pushes deeper. Deeper. Deeper - it must go in five inches!
A sloshing sound. Now I feel it: the unique, mildly nauseating
sensation of my bowels beginning to fill with cool liquid. I have had
enemas in childhood; I remember this feeling.

	And, unfortunately, I am beginning to remember why I actually
loved getting them way back then, how I faked constipation to get
Daddy to give them to me, how they seemed to warm and liquefy my
little, hairless puss, though I didn't yet understand the feeling.

	"Uuugh," I grunt. My bowels fill; fill. My belly feels like it
is swelling up from the pressure within, though I suppose that is
impossible. This slow, even filling of my pained anus and deeper
bowels with cool water feels healing to me. And, yes, it is sexy -
very, very sexy. He has licked and sucked and fucked and fucked and
fucked my private parts tonight, and of course, despite myself, I have
begun sometimes to respond; but I have fought so very hard to resist
that ultimate humiliation. Because I know what he wants. I know why he
keeps doing this, hour after hour, why he didn't rape me once and
leave me or kill me and grab the stereo and my pearls and run off into
the night. Because he wants me to *like* it. He must pride himself on
this, his skill at tying up women in their beds at night and taking
them again and again and again, his ego must demand that I respond.

	I will not enjoy this. I will last this out and then he will
leave.

	I am so tired. He has begun to stroke my buttocks gently, in
time with the inward surges of fluid. He places his hand softly on the
curve of my belly. He pushes down a little, not hurting me, to feel
how full I am.

	I enjoy this. I cannot help it; I enjoy this. I am (my god!)
starting to lubricate. I am getting *wet*. I am creaming! I arch my
back to feel the enema more. I am pushing down with tiny, I pray
invisible, movements of my hips to get it deeper up my ass. Deeper.
Up. My ASS.

	Oh god, I am ass-fucking myself on the tube. I am creaming! I
can't keep my hips still - they're moving in tight little circles. I'm
still trying to keep the motion invisible, but I know I can't be
succeeding. A little harder... faster... Oh God this feels good! The
water fills me, fills me, fills me...

	He must know, he must see it, but I don't care. This is what
he wants, isn't it?! I'm moving my hips like a slut, up and down, back
and forth, fucking my ass on that tube. Where it enters me is a point
of melting heat that radiates outward. My pussy is growing molten with
it, my nipples must be stiffening...

	I want his finger in my pussy. I'm wet, can't he tell? Now
he's not doing anything for me, no finger no dildo no long fat cock, I
want something! Do something! You've done it all already, why can't
you do it now?

	I hear his laughter, and suddenly, so that I cry out despite
myself, the enema tube is yanked from me. Water pumps out of me and
soaks the bed. I can't help it, can't stop it, oh, oh, it is
humiliating, I am a child dirtying my panties on the playground... My
asshole flexes and pumps like a hose. I moan uncontrollably. He grabs
my legs and spreads them farther apart and I feel the water really
spray out in one last convulsive gulp of my anus. Oh god, I am
sopping. I am lying in water. My cunt aches with heat. The labia are
swollen wide apart, the juices must be gleaming in the hole in plain
sight.

	And I think, If I come for him, maybe he'll leave.

	Tentatively I start to move my hips again, this time in
circles. My back arches against my bonds. My breasts feel swollen and
the nipples must point straight up, begging for stimulation. My ass
clenches.

	He makes a small amused sound, half-exhalation, half-laugh.
He has not touched me again yet. I feel his eyes soaking in every
exposed inch of me, studying my bared cunt and asshole, noting the
condition of my nipples.

	Then I feel his hands on me. He is caressing the outside of my
thighs, sliding his hands around and under my ass and parting my
buttocks on each stroke. Now I feel his hands move around to my inner
thighs. They stroke higher, higher. I-want-them-to-reach-my- cunt.
Higher, higher! I want this! I almost sob with relief when in one
swift move he parts my labia with both hands. He spreads them wide.
Cool air on my clit and my hole. My hips are lifted off the bed. I
moan. A finger touches the hood of my clit, pulls at it and slides it
around the nub, which is painfully aroused. I am starting to cream
again. Cream is leaking out my hole. I can feel it, I know it must be,
I have never been this excited in my life, God help me. God, the juice
is just running out of me! It feels so good I want to scream!. He's
holding and touching me like this so long it's torture. I want
something in my cunt; my hole is open and wet and I need something up
it, right up it, right up into my belly...

	"Pleeeaaase," I moan.

	He says, quietly, in a light, hard voice - the first time I
have heard him speak - "Yes."

	With two or three finger he slowly rubs my slit. He strokes it
uuuup and down, uuup and down. I shudder all through my body and my
hips begin to pump. Aaaaahhh, his thumb is pushing at the entrance to
my hole. I raise my hips even farther off the bed and try to spread my
splayed legs even more. It hurts but I don't care, I want my holes
wider so he can fuck me there. Oh please fuck me now... Fuck me! Fuck
me!!

	He pushes his thumb deeper into my steaming, dripping hole and
then it's all the way in and he's fucking it slowly innn and out, innn
and out. Innn and oouuut. Oh my gooodddd. I need something in my ass -
my asshole is spread wide open too, it's pouting right out, I need
something to fill me there, the harder and longer the better deep in
my bowels. He fingers me there and starts to push his finger in, and
it hurts, it hurts too much pushing in, and my asshole is clamping
shut around it. "Eeeaaasy," he croons. He pulls his finger out -
aaiiee! it hurts! - and now he is wetting his finger in the cream
that's pouring out my cunt. He probes my back hole again, this time
his finger turns and twists and - it's in! deeper! Deeper...

	Now I am completely lost in pleasure. I am humping myself back
and forth faster and faster. I fuck myself on his hand at both holes,
he finger-fucks me slow, then faster and faster deeper and deeper in
both holes. I fuck myself like a slut on his thumb up my cunt and
ass-fuck my dripping hole on his finger. FUCK me FUCK me FUCK me!!

	My belly muscles clench and my hips and ass are churning and
it's starting it's starting it's starting oh god my cunt is twitching
and now it's gulping and my asshole is spasming open and closed oh
christ I'm coming! I'm coming! I'm coming like an express train, can't
stop it, my body raises clean off the bed and shakes, my hips and ass
are shaking and shuddering as the my cunt spasms and asshole and my
come-juice sprays out my hole and splashes on my things and he's
fucking me faster harder deeper just fucks me like a slut, like a
whore, deep and hard and he laughs and says, "Come, bitch, come, come
on, give it to daddy, your pussy's coming all over my motherfucking
hand, you slut, come on, give me that hot cream... ... " Now I'm
screaming behind the mask. He puts his free hand over my mouth. I bite
at his fingers and taste blood. He cuffs me, not hard but not too
gently. He cuffs me again and again as my spasms rock through me.

	Finally, the spasms slow. My cunt gulps, slower, quieter,
slower, quieter. One last gulp; no, one after that. I slump flat.
Tears run from my eyes under the blindfold. Slowly he pulls his thumb
and finger out of me. They come free with sucking sounds. A last spasm
shakes me as they leave my body. I can't move a muscle, not even turn
my head. I am so limp and his.

	And for the third time I hear his voice. "Just relax, baby,
relax," he says, "'cause there's more."