The full moon was shining cheerfully through my window as I fell asleep that night. It's silvery light bending through my water bottle and shining on the rails of my antique wrought-iron bed before falling across my face, bathing me in its gentle luminescence.
It was the loss of that light across my eyes the roused me, awakened me, from my erotic dream. The same dream I always have; the one that makes me cum before I'm even completely awake; the dream that even now has my pussy dripping and longing to be filled.
As I slowly blink my eyes open, I am aware of a change in the atmosphere of my bedroom; of something added rather than missing. The moonlight reveals you standing over me outlined in stark contrast. I take in your aggressive stance, black clothes and ski mask and quickly come to only one conclusion; you're here to rape me.
As I come to my senses enough to gather a scream in my throat, your hand quickly covers my mouth. You lean down next to my ear and whisper in a harsh voice, "Don't scream, don't make a sound and I'll make this good for you too. Scream or call for help, and I'll make you wish you didn't have a sweet pussy for me to fuck. Got it?"
I can barely think beyond shakily nodding my head in surrender.
"Take your panties off" you growl at me, your hand is still firmly over my mouth as I wiggle my panties down over my hips and legs, "and hand them to me." You roll them in a ball and, finally removing your hand, you shove them into my mouth. "Now take your nightie off." You say in the same growl.
Once it is out of the way, you take both of my wrists in your one, very large, very strong hand and pull my arms up over my head. You tug something out of your pocket; it's handcuffs. You click a cuff over my wrist, loop the chain around the bedrail and click the other cuff onto my other wrist. You pick up one of the fat, decorative pillows from the neat pile beside my bed and add it to the one already under my head. I'm not very comfortable with my head at a 45 degree angle, but you don't seem to care.
You reach down and take hold of my nipple. You look me straight in the eye and twist, pulling upward at the same time. I cry out in pain, and yes, a little pleasure. You stop and lean down to my ear again, "You like that, bitch?" I think you smile, I think I hear it in your voice. "Yeah, you like it. I'll have you moaning like a whore before I'm through tonight."
Now that I am completely at your mercy, you pull something else out of your pocket. You stroke my cheek and say, "I'm going to blindfold you with this sleep mask and I'm going to fuck you. But before I blindfold you, I'm going to show you what I'm going to impale you with, think you're ready to see it?"
My eyes are as wide as saucers; I nod slowly.
You reach down and pinch the other nipple, pulling and twisting upward. I cry out in pain (and pleasure?) again.
"Slut." You say as you pull the zipper down on your jacket and slide it off revealing a black tank. Your moonlit outline becomes more defined. Your shoulders are impossibly broad and your torso tapers to a flat, well-defined stomach.
I get the feeling I know you from somewhere.
The tank follows the jacket and the hills and valleys of your chest and abs are set in sharp relief. My mouth waters a little as I involuntarily take in a sharp breathe through the panties. I pray you didn't hear me.
My prayer is not answered.
Your head jerks up to my face and I feel like your smiling again. The ski mask is very frustrating. I want to see you in spite of myself. I'm about to be raped, and my body is betraying me by revving up for it! What is wrong with me? Am I psychotic?
"You want to see more don't you?" You jeer at me, making me feel ashamed of myself; ashamed of my lust, my obvious need. "You want to see the cock that's going to fuck you, don't you slut?"
I just stare at you with my big, blue eyes. I can't reason out the way I'm feeling.
"Answer me!" You half yell at me.
You yank the panties out of my mouth roughly and put your ski masked face in mine again.
"Yes." I squeak out in the smallest voice possible.
You pull and twist both nipples and I really do scream out in pain. You shove the panties back in my mouth, and move your mouth to the closest nipple and swirl your tongue around it before pulling it into your mouth and sucking on it. With one hand you squeeze the other breast and gently roll the nipple between your fingers. I'm confused and aroused by the rapid switch from pain to pleasure.
Your hand caresses my stomach as you move your mouth to the other breast and devour it with your lips and tongue.
Your hand slips lower.
"Wow, not even a landing strip." You say as you slide your fingers over my already swollen, completely hairless lips. You slowly slide your finger up and down over those lips until they open like the wings of a butterfly. You feel my wetness already, one swipe over my inner lips and I open to your gently probing fingers. I am wet enough that one finger glides in easily as your thumb begins to softly rub my soft pink nub sending a wave of pleasure through me.
At the same moment, you bite my nipple; hard. I yelp in pain and moan in pleasure as you slide your one, now two, fingers in and out of my pussy. I can't help myself; I tighten my velvet walls around your fingers. You move over and bite the other nipple; harder.
My pain and pleasure are complete and your thumb strums my clit like a well-tuned guitar. You curl your finger up inside of me and stroke my g-spot. I arch my back frantic to keep the connection between your mouth and my breast knowing that I'm about to cum harder than I ever have. But, just at that moment, to my utter dismay, you stop and straighten up.
You are standing over me again, silently reminding me who is in control. I'm frustrated and, frankly, angry. I'm angry at my rapist for not letting me cum. I am sick.
You, however, are smug. Standing there, standing over me, knowing how close I was and reveling in my misery.
