I am sitting on my bed in my room relaxing when I hear a knock on the door. My parents are gone, and the kids are at their dad's, so I don't know who it could be. I'm not expecting company. My brow furrows, and I make my way downstairs.
I open the front door wide, and as I do, a dark shape moves over my vision, quickly blocking out my sight as my head is covered. A hand grabs my throat, forcing me back in to the house. I stumble backwards, unsteady on my feet, gasping loudly.
The door slams shut, and I am being pushed sideways the few feet to the couch. Something catches me on the back of the legs, and I stumble painfully. The pain jars me from my shocked state, and I am falling backwards. I end up fallen across the couch, a weight pinning my chest down as soon as I land. I kick my legs, but I can't see anything, and I can barely catch my breath, which is coming hard now.
I hear a scrape of metal on metal from above me, and a hand grabs my wrist tightly. I whimper and try to scream, but it comes out more like a breathy, whining 'no...' I try to pull my wrist away, but the person is stronger than I am. As I kick, the weight rolls forward, pinning my chest down and making it impossible to breathe. I whimper, now I am really frightened. I don't like not being able to breathe. I try to wiggle my body to move the weight, but it doesn't work, and my panic grows.
Cold metal encircles my wrist with a clicking noise, and the weight rolls back onto my stomach, freeing my chest to take a shallow breath. As the weight rolls back, the toe of a boot forces it's way between my legs, digging into my pussy. A hand clamps around my other wrist, pulling my wrists together, and again I feel the touch of cold steel and hear the ominous click.
I yelp, loudly, and I feel hot tears start to sting at my eyes. I am overwhelmed with fear... but also something else. Even the rough touch is enough to send waves of electricity through me. I've been feeling lonely and needy, and my pussy has been on fire all day. It wants any contact. I hear a scraping sound from over me again with the clinking of metal before something stiff but flexible passes between my arms, pulling them over my head to the arm of the couch. A moment later, the leather belt is attached to something above my head, holding my arms up.
"Please..." I whimper, pulling and shifting on the coach. "Please, don't." The boot that had lodged near my pussy moves, and the weight begins sliding down my body until a knee comes to rest against my pussy. Slowly, it presses into me with growing pressure, then pulls away, over and over. I am whimpering now. Who is this? What is happening? And the growing wetness between my legs is out of my control.
Suddenly, a hand roughly forces my other leg into the back of the couch, leaving me feeling vulnerable and exposed despite my clothing. I try to pull my legs together, to hide, but he's holding me in place and I can't protect myself. Then I feel his other hand on my ankle, trailing slowly up my leg. I half moan, half scream in frustration. I don't know what I want. I'm terrified. I'm excited.
The hand reaches my hips, finger tips trailing against my side just above the waistband of my shorts. I gasp, and move my hips involuntarily as the fingers follow my skin down to my ass before pulling down my shorts. The hand on my other leg mirrors the same action. I cry out. The air is cold on my skin, and I feel confused. I remember that this isn't a game, this isn't like when Daddy chases me and holds me down. I begin to struggle again.
"Please. Stop." The knee digs into my pussy in a hard bouncing motion before it's gone, and the weight is gone suddenly from my body. Suddenly, I am alone, untouched again, and it's strange. Then my pants are roughly pulled down my shins and twisted together, pinning my lower legs together as he raises them into the air. I can feel the air on my pussy and ass. So exposed. I wiggle my hips harder, trying in vain to somehow move away.
My struggles get me nowhere, my hands are cuffed and held up by the table above my head, and my legs are trapped in the air. I half scream, half growl in frustration. A hand slaps down on my breast, turning into a gripping squeeze on contact.
"Mmm..." His voice is husky and low. "Keep screaming for me. There is no one to help you."
My nipples are rock hard and once I've caught my breath, I can't help arching into the pain slightly. My legs are forced sideways against the back of the couch by the hand in my pants, and a knee, wet with my own juices, presses into my hip pushing me towards the back of the couch. The grip on my breast tightens, crushing me. I scream again, wordless, and feel the tears I'd forgotten about threatening to spill over.
Weight adds on to the crushed breast as he leans down until I can feel his hot breath on my ear. I exhale, time slows, and I whine, soft and pathetic.
