I open my front door and I know he’s here. I asked him to be. I gave him the key. The house is so dark and so still. I know I cannot turn on any lights and yet I want to so desperately my hand twitches. I reach up to the switch instinctively. ‘No,’ my mind forcefully interrupts me, ‘you want it like this.’ My heart is beating so hard the noise thunders in my ears. I wonder if he can hear it. My mouth is dry. My pulse racing. I am dizzy. So dizzy. The darkness seems to spin around me and pull me in …

‘What would I do normally?’ My mind asks, but nothing is normal. Nothing feels normal. Every sense is heightened exponentially. Every nerve in my body tingling with fear. I have never felt so alive. I turn around to take my shoes off in the hallway and a force of darkness hits me from the shadows. I have no time to react. No time to think. No time to scream. My face and body are pinned hard against my front door. I cannot move. I cannot breathe. A great hulk of male strength pushes hard against me. My body is trapped. I struggle to draw air into my lungs as his weight crushes me. I try to scream. I make nothing more than a squeaking sound. I try to throw my body from side to side. I do not move. My head, my neck, my shoulders, my back, my arms, my legs; every inch of me feels the pressure of his strength. Every muscle in his body is tensed to hold still every muscle in mine. The more I try to squeal and squirm, the more he pushes into me. I am crushed between him and the door. His strength squeezing the fight out of me.

Finally I am still for long enough for him to release me slightly. I gasp air into my lungs in short sharp bursts. It feels like a lifetime he has held me crushed but it must only be a few seconds. He keeps enough pressure on to pin me still as he pulls my hands behind my back. I hear the cable tie cord and feel the plastic cut into my wrists. My fight returns. I draw a longer gulp of air into my lungs and thrash wildly. A loud piercing scream comes from my mouth. His body is rapidly back on mine and this time his fingers hook hard into my mouth.

“Scream like that again whore and I’ll give you something to fucking scream about.”

He keeps his body tight on mine, his fingers hooked into my mouth, as his free hand roams up my skirt and tears my fragile lace knickers from my body. He shoves them torn deep into my mouth. I yelp as he forces them in but the sound is now heavily muffled. He unhooks his fingers from my mouth and pinning me by the neck with one strong hand, he runs the fingers of the other up the inside of my leg to brush the softness of my now exposed cunt and arse. A whimper from me this time. No doubt in what he plans to do.

“You’re wet my little whore,”

His voice low, deep, and gravelly sends quakes of feeling through my body and a red flush of shame to my face.

“Wet and open for me.”

He leans his head down so his mouth is against my ear.

“I am going to use your holes until I leave you sore and bleeding.”

Another whimper through my knickers. I can smell myself on them. Smell how much I wanted this. How much I wanted to be used by him. As if reading my mind he thrusts his fierce fist hard into my cunt. I jerk but his one arm holds me firm with his giant hand tight around my slender neck. He could kill me. Instead he thrusts his fist harder and harder into my cunt. I hear the noise as I grow wetter. I hear his breath change as he grows excited. I hear my heart pound in my ears. I feel fire start to burn inside me. I feel my whole body shake with his force. God I want this.

He stops suddenly and steps back from me. I am no longer pinned. No longer restrained by his body. I wonder what he plans to do next. I am too frightened to move, to speak, even to breathe. He seems to wait watching me for another eternity before he steps forward again. He is close enough only to be brushing my body with his. Such a different sensation to the crushing of a moment ago. I feel a cold hard rush of metal against my thigh. Of course he has a knife.He runs it gently up my inner thigh and across my cunt. Every nerve ending in my body reacts. Every nerve ending feels like it has ben touched by the knife. The blade is ice cold against my warm cunt. What will he do? I cry inside. What will he do?

“Get into the living room,”

He commands. I don’t move. I am paralysed still by fear. He moves the knife to my throat.


The power in his voice makes my body react immediately. He moves the knife away as I step back and turn to enter the living room. He watches me step into the room and follows.

“To the middle of the room.”

I obey and stand awaiting my next instruction. He is upon me quickly and jerks my hands up my back. I feel the knife against my wrist as he cuts loose the ties. He pulls my knickers from my mouth and throws them onto the floor.


For the first time I turn to look at him. I realise he is wearing a balaclava over his face with just his eyes and mouth visible. His eyes burn with a fire so intense I am petrified. My mind starts to question if he is the right man now I know I cannot see his face. ‘It is him,’ my body confirms, ‘no man but him.’ There is no question I will do anything other than obey and I start to remove my clothes. First my shoes, then my top and bra. I watch him as my breasts are revealed. My nipples hard and aching. I quiver at the sinister curl of his smile. I unzip my skirt and let it fall to my knees revealing my naked cunt. Again the smile. Again the quiver.

He steps forward again and brings the knife up so I can see it’s sharp blade.

“On the floor,”

He instructs and I lay down instantly. Face down. The cool hardness of the wooden floor feeling welcome against the intense heat my body has gathered. He comes close to me now and bends down next to my face leaning over so his mouth falls close to my ear. He moves the knife against my throat and I feel a rush of sensation from the coldness of the steel and the sharpness of the blade.

“Rub your clit for me.”

His direction is firm. I want to look up at him but I dare not. My head remains hung in shame. I don’t move but instead I whimper.

“Rub your clit whore,” he repeats, “the way you do on your own in your bed with no one watching.”

I whimper again but I know I have no choice. I move my hand down to my cunt and the knuckle of my thumb takes its place of comfort against my hard clit. I have done this countless times before but never to an audience.

He stands up and positions himself somewhere behind me. I continue to whimper as I rub my clit. My body’s pleasure takes over and I cannot stop myself grinding against my own hand. I cannot stop the writhing of my hips backwards and forwards even though my face burns with shame. I know every time I tilt my hips the masked man will see my cunt and arse open for him. I whimper again.

“Oh little whore,” his voice has an edge of tease to it, “are you offering me your delicious cunt to use? Look at you writhing on the floor desperate for me.”

His words should make me stop but I can’t. My body has taken over. My hips grind as a fire builds inside me. I am desperate. I want him to use me.

Unexpectedly he wrenches my hand away from my clit and pulls both arms together and cuffs my wrists. He pulls my legs up sharply and cuffs my ankles too leaving me hog-tied. He rubs my cunt lips gently with two fingers and places them to his lips.

“You taste good.”

He moves his hand down to me and pushes his fingers against my lips.

“Taste yourself.”

I cannot help my mouth opening and my tongue gently licking his fingers. I can smell and taste my sex. It makes my whole body stiffen with desire. While I am lost in my yearning for release, he roughly pushes his two fingers hard into my arse and I yelp. He uses his other hand to fiercely jerk back my hair.

“I told you I’d give you something to scream about.”

He thrusts in four fingers then five and then his fist. A guttural animalistic moan comes from somewhere deep inside me. My arse muscles scream as they stretch around his hand. He starts to thrust harder and my yells continue. My voice is loud and low and hard. I cannot believe the noise is coming from me. It is too hard. Too fast. I feel sure his hand will tear me in two. I scream “Stop!” again and again until my voice dries up and becomes nothing more than a whimper.

“I’ll stop when I’m ready,”

Comes his reply. Eventually he starts to slow and I realise my face is wet. I have been crying and whimpering and pleading. Pleading for release. I realise my clit is aching, my nipples hard and stiff, my body tense. I want to come. Right now that is all I want. My release.

I tilt my hips up to show this man my cunt. To tempt him to it. To show I want to be fucked. I hear him laugh.

“Oh baby, we’re just getting started.”

He picks my knickers off the floor and thrusts them back deep into my mouth. He scoops up the rest of my clothes and leaves the room closing the door behind him. I am left alone in the dark. I am aching, yearning, needing. Begging him silently in my mind to return …