textfiles/sex/EROTICA/I/invader.txt

         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
 
         --by Zoe--
 
 
 
         He has 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, adrenalin 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 despitte
 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 someting 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 fingerfucks 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."
 
 
 The Invader, cont. (Part II)
 
 --by Zoe--
 
 
 
 
 
         I am lying on my bed, legs and arms cruelly spreadeagled and
 straining in their sockets against the bindings that lash them to the
 headboard and footboard. I am still blindfolded, and I can see
 nothing but black. I feel the air turning cool on my widely spread
 pussy and anus as the come juice that has soaked them--and my
 thighs and crack and the bedsheets under me--dries. My breathing
 has slowed from heaves to gasps to pants and has finally normalized.
 I am utterly spent. I have just come harder than I had ever come in
 my life before. I am trying to think of absolutely nothing.
         A few moments ago the invader moved softly away from the
 bed. I heard the scratch and pop of a match, and then the stale air of
 my bedroom was redolent wth cigarette smoke. A Marlboro, I'm
 fairly sure. My second-to-last boyfriend smoked them too. The
 invader is quiet now, but I listen to him draw on his cigarette at
 regular intervals and let the smoke out in soft little exhalations.
 Suddenly, absurdly, I hope that he is satisfied. Then I feel a
 humiliation beyond naming. My cheeks burn wildly with blood and I
 convulsively, futilely try to draw my legs together and clench my
 buttocks to shield my gaping sex holes from his gaze, which is
 invisible like everything else but burns like a laser on my crotch and
 breasts. I picture him standing there, propped against the far wall,
 smoking and watching me, perhaps idly stroking his erection through
 his trousers; and I writhe in my bonds.
         He lights another cigarette after the first. The chair next to my
 vanity creaks under his weight as he sits. Time passes. I lose track of
 it. Unbelievably, I am growing sleepy. The afteraffects of the
 adrenalin rush of utter fear and the repeated  rapes and my final,
 explosive orgasm are stupefying me like a powerful narcotic. I doze,
 wake in terror. Doze again.
 
         I wake as the invader drives himself forcefully into my anus.
 Still partly asleep, then wholly awake and screaming, I try frantically
 to kick out, but my legs are pinioned immobile. His cock plunges into
 my bowels and I shriek and my head snaps to the side as he slaps
 me. Then the agony recedes a little as his cock sinks in to the hilt, his
 hips meeting my buttocks, and mercifully he stops moving for a
 moment. Dazed, whimpering, I try to sort out my contorted body. I
 am lying on my back--well, the back of my pain-wracked neck,
 really--and my spine is bent like a bow, my ankles held in twin grips
 like iron nearly back over my face, my asshole abruptly stretched
 and filled to its depth by the invader's cock. I try to struggle, feebly,
 but I am held so totally motionless that all I can do is to bear down a
 little to save my tormented asshole from damage. "Sssshhhh," he
 says, and my whimpers grow quieter. Almost gently now, he pushes
 in and pulls back a little. Iiinnn, baccckkk, iiinnn, baccckkk. Though
 so deep in, his cock begins to move more easily, and my hole
 gradually relaxes and opens around his organ. Iiinnn, baccckkk,
 iiinnn, baccckkk.
         I have not been ass-fucked much before, despite the fact that
 Daniel, my last boyfriend, liked to poke and twist his tongue in what
 he teasingly named my "rosebud" while thrusting two or three
 fingers into my spread cunt, something which often, to my surprise,
 brought me quite quickly to a shuddering orgasm. I am shocked to
 find, as the pain continues to fade, that this is starting to feel
 actually
 good. I feel a sudden need to shit. I panic that I may actually do it,
 all over him and myself. Then the need passes. A hot tingling begins
 to spread from my probed bowels and pulse through my inner thighs
 to my cunt.
         I moan a little, involuntarily, and arch my back to feel him
 deeper within me. He grasps my thighs and holds me even harder to
 him. Slow and steady he fucks into my bowels. My asshole spreads
 and pouts and loosens even more around his cock as it thrusts and
 recedes deep in me.
         I'm horrified to find that I'm getting wet again. My cunt throbs
 with heat. Juice is running out of it and down my crack and wetting
 my asshole. He quickens his pace within me. The outer part of my
 cunt starts to gulp spasmodically--not in orgasm but in need, begging
 for penetration.
         Suddenly he is thrusting hard, his hips banging against the
 backs of my thighs, his groin grinding into my ass cheeks. At the
 peak of each stroke I feel the rasp of his pubic hair on the tautly
 stretched skin of my perineum. Over and over, his cock slides out to
 the very tip and my bowels collapse with emptiness, and then it
 slams back into my depths.
         I am moaning, "Uh, uh, uh," spittle running out of the corners of
 my mouth and back my upturned face, soaking into the blindfold.
 Forgetting shame, I grind my ass against him at the apex of each
 stroke and we thrash and struggle against each other in a red
 murderous haze. His hands clamp my thighs just below the knees,
 and his nails dig into me as he forces my legs higher, higher, farther
 and farther back over my head.
         Suddenly he is shouting, great wordless shout, and he strains
 forward into my upturned, wide-open ass as though trying to split
 me apart. I scream. His body shudders against mine, shudders and
 shudders. "Bitch," he sobs, "bitch, bitch, bitch."
         Then it comes--the hot flood of jism deep in my bowels. How is
 it possible I am even feeling this? but I am, I am, I feel the hot thick
 come spurt into me, spurting and spurting like he's filling my belly
 with it, hot steaming spunk pouring up me, more, more, more! And
 abruptly, astoundingly, I am coming again. My whole torso is shaking
 and my belly clenches he's not even touching my cunt not even
 fucking me there but I'm cooommming, my Christ, my cunt gulps like
 a fish's mouth ah ah, oh god fuck me oh oh oh Aaaaaahhhhhh!
         Uuunnnhh. Uunnhh. Uunnhh. Unh.
         And he rears up over me and holds me to him, one thumb
 shoving brutally into my drenched and dripping cunt, softening cock
 still in my asshole up to the hilt, triumphant.