Home Invasion

Note: This one’s a little edgy, and may not be for everyone. It is just fantasy, but if you’ve ever been the victim of violent crime you might not want to read this. Consider yourself warned – I don’t need any nasty letters about it, thanks.

When my apartment door burst open I was sitting at the computer in my underwear. Too late I realized that I’d stupidly left the door unlocked. Now there was a big, strange man standing in my hallway staring at me through a nylon mask. I could hear his heavy breathing. The flashbulb memory is burned into my brain. The man turned to lock the door and then stepped toward me. I was frozen, my heart pounding, but I managed to think, “Don’t faint, don’t faint...”

“Hey, faggot,” the stranger growled. He’d seen the pictures on my monitor. I could make out a sinister toothy grin through the mask.

“Wh-what do you want?” I blurted out.

“Whatever you got that I can carry. And since you’re a poof maybe I’ll just get my rocks off before I rob you. You faggots give the best head.”

I somehow summoned the strength to stand up from my chair. “Take whatever you want, but leave me alone. I’ve got a friend coming over any minute. He knows I’m home, and if I don’t let him in he’ll call the police.”

“Yeah, right. Sit down! If he comes, we’ll let him in all right, and I’ll just see which one of you’s the best cocksucker. You think you can take me? I can snap you like a twig... or cut you up good,” he snarled at me as he moved toward me, flicking his hand at the last to reveal and flip open a switchblade.

Terrified, I sat back down slowly, staring at the knife. The blade glinted blue in the light from the computer. My mind raced. Was he going to kill me? I tried to stay calm and tell myself that he just wanted to rob me and get lost, but I couldn’t know what he would do. I really was no match for him. He was a lot bigger than I. I did a mental inventory of all the possible weapons in my home, but all were far out of reach and there was no way I could make a run for them. For now I’d have to do what he told me. I looked up at him, trying to see his face. Through the nylon I could only see that he had thick dark hair and a goatee.

“So, you like looking at pictures of dick, huh? Here, have a good look at mine, then. Open my pants, ya fudgepacker, you’re gonna love this,” he continued as he moved closer, towering over me and thrusting his big crotch at my face.

“Please, sir, take anything, just–”

“Shut up! I’ll take my sweet time fucking your faggot gob, is what I’ll take, if I want to. And whatever else I want. Now, fish out the pole I’m gonna tear your ass open with, if you’re real good, heh, heh, heh,” he barked, and laughed sickeningly. This sick fuck was really enjoying himself.

Hating him and myself, I slowly did what I was told. I reached up and with shaking hands felt for his zipper.

“Start with the belt. Open it all up so you can get at my balls too.”

I unhooked his big metal belt buckle, memorizing its design as I did so. I was determined to be able to identify him if I ever got out of this. He was wearing a leather biker jacket, a black t-shirt, black jeans, and what looked like combat boots. When I’d stood, it had been partly to see how tall he was, and I guessed about 6’5” by the couple of inches he had on me. He outweighed me by a good fifty pounds, though, putting him at about 225. He probably really could snap me like a twig, and I abandoned thoughts of somehow getting the knife from him.

I slowly unbuttoned the waist of his jeans. I was still hoping that he might just stop all of this and take my valuables and leave, so I moved as slowly as I thought I could get away with. I was sickened by the fact that it was obvious that he was already aroused by all this. It was also obvious that his equipment matched the rest of him in terms of size, by the growing bulge in his jeans. I gulped at the thought of that monster taking me by force. I slowly unbuttoned the rest of his button-fly and pulled his jeans open. He wore cheap white briefs, that were obscenely distended by his now twitching cock, which arced off to the side. The pungent smell of ball and ass sweat wafted out in my face, and I paused.

“That’s it, you little whore, pull it out,” he pushed me on.

I took hold of the waistband of his briefs and pulled it out, over and down. His penis swung free to bob and point at my forehead, and it was huge. Continuing my mental ID inventory, I noted that he was probably about eight inches long, and uncut. There was a freckle or mole on the foreskin on the left side. The head was half-exposed and a bead of precum was forming in the slit.

“What are you waiting for, bitch? Suck it,” he ordered.

I was shaking all over, and I leaned in slowly, then he stopped me.

“Wait.” He put the knife behind my ear and braced it there with his thumb, the way you peel an apple. “You bite me, bitch, and you lose this ear.”

My shaking continued, and he now pulled my head forward by the ear so that I couldn't t help but just open my mouth to take in his dripping penis. The bastard shoved it all the way in and held it there, gagging me, for several seconds.

“Oh yeah. You’ve gotta nice warm mouth, faggot. Suck that big dick. I know you love it,” he growled down at me as he started to thrust in and out of my mouth, holding my head still with the knife held to my ear and his other beefy hand clamped over my other ear. As terrified and disgusted as I was, my mind was churning again, trying to think of what to do. I didn’t want to cooperate, of course, but I hoped that if I did I’d at least get of it all alive. I thought, “I can do this. He’s not hurting me. I can have sex with him, and he won’t hurt me and he’ll leave.” But it just felt so dirty, like I was the whore he was calling me. I’d done it for less in the past, though, for much less than my life. Haven’t we all? So I tried to steel my resolve and strategize, while he pounded at the back of my throat with his monster cock. It was very thick, and it was hard to keep my teeth from scraping him, but with the knife pricking me behind my ear I did my best. All of sudden he pulled out.

“Hey dick-bitch!” I looked up at him. “I want this in your throat. All you girly-boys are good at that, so I know you’re holding out on me. Quit your gagging and take me down to my balls!”

I took a deep breath, knowing I’d need the air, and he shoved himself back into my mouth. This time when his big head hit the back of my throat I relaxed it and after a few seconds he slid past and into my esophagus. I hated that he knew I could do this. He groaned another of his oh-yeahs and pulled my head forward until my nose was jammed into his sweaty black pubes. I suddenly had an idea. If he was like most guys, he’d be done once he came, so I figured that if I made him come he wouldn’t rape me and he would just take some stuff and leave. I started to move my head. If this was what it would take, I’d give this bastard the best damn blowjob I knew how. I thought for a moment about him coming in my mouth, and the risks involved, but decided that the knife scraping my ear presented greater risk.

“Yeah, that’s it. I knew you liked it. That’s it. Blow me, whore-boy,” he moaned, loosening his grip on my head.

I tried to pretend he was just one of the many men I done this for in the past, for pleasure. I closed my eyes and worked the big slippery cock in and out of my tight throat. I knew I could make him come as fast as I wanted him to, and if I did it right, I’d take his load down my throat so I wouldn’t even have to taste it.

“Squeeze my balls, cocksucker. Work them while you eat my prick. You love it. You love me fucking your face, you slut! Oh fuck, yeah, suck that dick, faggot!”

I complied with his command, and reached up to knead his big sweaty balls as I increased my tempo. Me started to moan and I knew he was close. I sped up more, and then suddenly he grabbed my hair and yanked my head off his pole.

“Oh no you don’t. I wanna see my load on your face, sperm boy. Jack it. Jack my prick off on that pretty face.”

Foiled in my plan, I could only do what he told me again. I kept working his big balls, and took his dick in my other hand and stroked. I still just wanted to get it over with, so I stroked hard and fast and closed my eyes, waiting to feel his semen hit my face. “DNA evidence,” I thought as I stroked.

“Open your eyes! You’re gonna see it coming, buddy,” he hissed, and I opened my eyes just in time to see the first rope of semen rip out of his cock. It landed on my cheek. I kept stroking and tried to keep my eyes open despite the pelting of hot bullets of spunk my face was getting. He grunted all the while. I was sickened to be sitting there drenched in this criminal’s sperm, but I hoped that it was over at last.

“Ooh, yeah, baby. Nice. Wish I brought my camera. Bet you love sitting there wearing my big hot load.”

I had nothing to say. His come seemed to burn as it oozed and dripped down my face.

“I know what you think you’re doing, by the way. You were thinking that if you just made me come I get out of here and leave you alone.” My heart sank. I tried a pleading look up at him.

“Thing is, that throat-fuck was so good, I can’t pass up a chance to fuck your other hole, now, can I?”

“No... please–”

“Shut up, bitch. You know you’re gonna love it. Luckily it doesn’t take long for me to get hard again, especially with a whore licking my asshole.”

“No, listen. Take anything. Please, I’ll–”

He flashed the knife in the air. “I am gonna take anything. I’m gonna take your ass, and you’re going to do whatever I tell you ‘til I do. Otherwise you’ll be picking your guts off this nice clean floor. Now, get on your knees. I’ll be right with you, I’m just gonna make this more comfortable for you.”

Wondering what he was up to, I slowly got down on my knees on the floor and watched him walk across my studio apartment, never taking his eyes of me. He went to the window that made up one whole wall of my apartment, and tugged at the blind cord. The vertical blinds sweeped open to reveal my familiar nighttime view of the city. He shuffled around with his pants open the whole time, his big flaccid cock lolling about, still glistening with my saliva. He went back to the hall, and suddenly the whole apartment lit up, every light.

“In case anyone wants to watch you work,” he explained wickedly. “Fuck, you’re such a little cock slut, they’ll think it’s just another night’s work for you. They can probably even see my load on your face! Now, eat me ass, whore!” he ordered, as he shoved his jeans and underwear down to his knees and spun around to bend over in front of me.

I couldn’t believe this was happening. With his cumload drying on my face, I stared ahead at his big hairy ass gaping at me in the blinding light. Again I got a strong waft of man-ass sweat and my stomach churned.

“Lick that ass or I’ll cut you!” He waved the knife in the air. The light only made it look more deadly than it had before.

I leaned forward and stuck out my tongue. I was trying to have as little of me touch him as possible. I aimed my tongue at a spot below his asshole, but close enough to it so that he might think I was licking his hole, I hoped. I made contact with his flesh, and again my strategizing backfired, as he reached around and grabbed the back of my neck with his free hand. With little effort he mashed my whole face into his ass, and with my pulling back, set up a ramming rhythm so that my tongue and nose were alternately buried in his anus. I was gagging, and he was groaning and hurling his now-familiar epithets back at me. He kept it up for a couple of minutes, then let go of my head. I slumped back on my haunches. Now his come was smeared and matted into the hair on his ass. He’d wiped his load off my face with his ass. I felt sick looking at it.

“Now, clean it up. That was just for fun. If you’re going to make me hard again, you gotta give my whole ass and hole a good tongue bath, like my old lady does. She does it nice and slow. ‘Course, you went and got my come all over me, ya sloppy whore. You’ll have to clean that up too. Start scrubbing, ass-licker.”

I thought I would hurl for sure. This fucker was sick. I knew he’d make me do it, but I needed to pause, to think. I roused myself again with thoughts that if I just got it over with, it would end. In my freaked-out, grossed-out state, I even thought fleetingly of the contestants on Fear Factor, and what they must think when they’re about to eat a bunch of maggots or something. They thought about the money, I thought about getting out alive. This sick fuck showed no signs of compassion, and certainly no respect for gay human life. I leaned in and lapped a big long lick right over his hole.

“Oh yeah! See, you fucking love it. Yeah, wash me up buddy. Hope you like the smell. I can’t remember when I showered last. I won’t have to again for awhile, when you’re done!”

I gagged again, but screwed up my resolve and lapped away at the monster’s big ass. I washed his crack like he told me to, and sucked his come out of his matted ass hair thinking, “It’ll be over soon, it’ll be over soon.” I could feel that he was stroking his cock, and couldn’t think about what was coming.

“Yeah, good job, my little faggot whore. Guess where this is going?” he sneered, as he stood up from his squat and turned around, brandishing his now full erection at me. He continued to stroke it, and I saw precum sparkling at the tip again. As the knife did; it too looked larger and more deadly in the full light.

I gulped and stood up shakily. “Please, please don’t–”

“Shut up! You’re gonna like this best of all. It’s what all you faggots want all the time! You make me sick! Get on the bed!” With that, he grabbed my shoulder, spun me around and shoved me hard toward my bed. I stumbled and fell across the bed on my stomach. I closed my eyes and tried to think again that it was just another guy I was having sex with, it was OK, and I was going to get through it. Then my body jerked up as he ripped my briefs right off with one strong yank. My hips burned where the waisteband seared my flesh with the abrupt friction, and I lay there trembling, now completely vulnerable to his attack.

“Yeah, your ass is enough like my woman’s that I’ll keep it up while I rape you,” he growled as groped my ass, spreading my cheeks and prodding me with his fingers, “she likes it up there too.”

“You must have rubbers here somewhere – all you faggots do,” he said as I heard him rummage in my nightstand, “I’m sure as fuck not gonna catch any faggot diseases from you, skank. Here we go – small of course, but this’ll do the trick. Here, faggot, I’ll even give you a dab of this lube, just so I don’t get your blood on me when I rip into you.”

His running commentary was torture to me as I waited for this ultimate violation. I was relieved though, in fact, to know that he was going to use a condom, and lube. I’d expected him to just dry-fuck me, bareback. That would have torn me open, for sure, with that monster cock. My head jerked back when I felt a sharp jab at my hole. I thought he was fucking me, but realized it was only one of his beefy fingers, sawing in and out of me.

“Just to lube you good. I like tight, but my old lady’s not as tight as you, and I wanna enjoy this,” he kept up his sinister chatter, as he added a second finger to his invasion. After adding a third and continuing to call me every dirty name he could think of, he removed his fingers and shifted himself above me. He held still for several seconds, torturing me.

“Take this, bitch!” he spat out then, and drove his cock straight into my tight asshole. I saw stars. I wanted to scream, but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was hurting me. I gulped a mouthful of duvet and bit down hard, then screamed after all, but it was muffled into the bedclothes. He pulled out, all the way, and viciously rammed his penis back into me, right to his balls, which pressed down on my own. I screamed again.

“There you go, faggot, the cock you always wanted. Take it. Take it, whore!” he yelled as he raped me. Opening my eyes, I caught our reflection in the window. In dazzling light, there I was on my bed being raped by a big masked stranger in a biker jacket. And beyond the glass, the countless lights of the city – many apartments just like mine across the way. I felt sick again to know that what my attacker had spat at me was true, that even if anyone saw this – and probably several were watching with binoculars right now – they’d probably just think we were a couple of kinky gay fucks getting off. Those queers, you just never know what they’ll get up to. I looked at my city and knew I was alone. I’d have to get through this with no help.

I refocused, concentrating again, even over my rapist’s steady spiel of abuse, on the thoughts of this being just another fuck. Fuck him. He wasn’t that big. I was sure I’d had bigger. The pain had actually subsided, as it always does. I started thinking about a guy I knew whose cock was about this guy’s size that I used to mess around with. Yeah, it’s just Paul fucking me, and talking rough, I tried to tell myself. We’re role-playing. I closed my eyes and saw Paul as he used to look when he pounded my ass lovingly. To my amazement, I started to feel my dick stir! Simultaneously disgusted with myself and thrilled that my survival plan was working, I humped my hips a bit, to shift and allow my cock to grow, and rub against the duvet to my intruder’s fuck-thrusts. He felt my movement, and again took it as encouragement.

“See, ya little whore, I told you you’d love it! What, your little prick getting hard? Fuck, you’re just like all the rest of those faggots. They’ll take it from anyone!” He changed his rhythm, and started to grind into me differently, making each push long and hard. I soon realized that he was doing this so that there’d be more friction for my cock, clamped as it was between me and the bed.

It worked for my fantasy, and I just kept my eyes closed and pictured Paul above me, glistening with sweat as we always both were when we fucked. My cock was fully hard, and was getting quite a workout from the soft cotton duvet cover. I actually started to “enjoy” the feeling of “Paul’s” dick skewering my ass. He filled me all the way, and with his bearing down there was heavy friction on my prostate and my dick. I started to squeeze the violating cock with my ass muscles to the rhythm of his thrusting. I actually started getting close. It would all be over soon. I started to moan and tried to muffle it in the bedclothes.

“’Spose you’re gonna shoot your little wad off, are you? Big fat cock ripping you open, just like you like it, huh? Tell me! Am I gonna make you come, you little slut?”

I muttered into the duvet.

“Speak up! Tell me you want me to fuck you to ‘til you come! Say it!”

“I–”

“Say it!”

“I... I want you to fuck me ‘til I come! ... Fuck me!... Come on, fuck my hole! Yeah, fuck me, ya fucker! Can’t you do me any harder?! Pound my ass, asshole! Give it to me!” erupted from some store of energy and conviction I didn’t know I had left in me.

“Oh yeah! You do love it! I’ll pound you, whore. I’ll pound the shit outta you, bitch! Take it! Take that cock!” With this, he shifted his body slightly again, so that he could swivel his hips to more fully slam his into my battered ass. Our flesh and balls slapped together, and the buckle of his biker jacket rattled and bounced, cold, against my asscheek. I carried on my tirade, letting out all the hatred for him that had pent up inside me since he broke in, as did he, and my whole body actually inched across the bed as he drove me forward a little with each thrust, my dick raging beneath me. I’d never been so filled with cock. I started to whimper and moan uncontrollably.