The Mysterious Prowler

It has been a week since the 'incident'. She never called the police, she never told her husband, she never did a damn thing about it. She was too ashamed. How could she have let herself give into him? Maybe he was right, maybe she was a whore. She certainly couldn't stop thinking about it, especially the first few days after it had happened, when her nipples and clit were still throbbing from the abuse he imposed on them.

Her husband was away on business again. She entered the dark house cautiously, then froze, listening carefully and jumping at any little noise. She finally forced herself to walk through the kitchen, grabbing a butcher's knife along the way. Into the living room and up the stairs she tread, turning on lights wherever she went. Entering the spare bedroom, she quickly looked in the closet, under the bed, and behind the door until she was satisfied there was no one lurking about. She entered their home office next, and then finally made her way to the master bedroom. After checking all probable hiding spots, she slowly headed toward the master bathroom, holding her breath. That's where she believed he had hidden the last time. But again, nothing. She let out a sigh of relief and headed back to her closet, dropping the knife on the bed so she could unbutton her blouse. She carefully hung it up, then slipped out of her skirt. It was still warm out, so she hadn't bothered with pantyhose. Clad only in her undergarments, she moved about the room, straightening things up a bit, taking off her jewelry, then heading back to the bathroom to remove her makeup and wash her face.

She re-entered the bedroom and stopped short. She didn't remember pulling down the shades. She always forgot to do that, a constant sore spot with her husband. He felt she was a bit of an exhibitionist, and told her over and over again she was only asking for trouble. Ha! She thought. If he only knew. Since she hadn't wanted to alert him that something might be wrong, she had continued to leave them open, although her mind would scream at her, asking her over and over 'what if HE is out there watching'? She shook her head to rid the thoughts. She must have closed them, especially that she was here all alone. She tried to tell herself that she just simply couldn't remember; she had been in such a daze lately.

"Hello, Michele," a husky masculine voice filled her ears. He was right behind her. She squeaked and jumped, then spun around to face him. She tried to stay calm as she backed slowly toward the bed, a hand behind her, hoping she would be able to feel for the knife without him noticing. Dressed as he was the other night, entirely in black, his face covered by the ski mask, she could only make out two green eyes and beautiful white teeth which bared themselves as he laughed at her.

"Looking for this?" He held up the butcher's knife and laughed even louder when he saw her shocked expression.

"Bastard!" She yelled, and his eyes narrowed. Within seconds, he had dropped her knife to the floor, kicked it away and grabbed her chin with one hand while holding his own blade directly in front of her face so she could see it. The light struck it, and it gleamed, sending shivers down her spine.

"What did we discuss the other night?" He asked. "You will not yell or scream, you will remain still and you will do whatever I say, understood?. Or, I swear, I will cut up that pretty little face of yours so no one wants you, not even your husband!"

He emphasized the last sentence by placing the pointed tip on her cheek, drawing only a tiny drop of blood, but enough to cause her to shake with fear. Her eyes widened and welled, giving him the answer he wanted ... she would behave.

He moved the knife to just under her chin, forcing her to tilt her head back a bit. The hand that was there a moment ago now moved, running a finger lightly down her neck to the middle of her breasts. Continuing slowly down her belly, he suddenly forced his hand into her panties and roughly shoved a finger up her cunt. She jumped and let out a whimper as the knife accidentally nicked her neck.

He grunted a quick, wicked laugh. "Stupid bitch! I told you to stay still."

"But you hurt me," she whispered.

"Don't worry, you'll soon be so wet that my finger will slide right in the next time."

He kissed and licked the red spot on her neck as he removed his finger from inside her. He stepped back just a bit, and his eyes raked her over, full of lust as they came to rest on her breasts. Using the dull side of the knife, he slid it between her cleavage, the bra being somewhat low cut. The cold steel against her skin made her shiver and her teeth chatter a bit. Her nipples became taut as her entire body broke out in goosebumps.

"HA!" He grunted. "You little slut. You're excited already."

She shook her head violently back and forth, instinctively criss-crossing her forearms and rubbing a hand against each arm for warmth.

"Lower your arms!" He snapped at her. "And remove your bra."

The blade was back at her neck, and she did as she was told. Her bra fell to the floor, and she let her hands drop to her sides. It took all her willpower not to raise them again to cover breasts. Her nipples had hardened even more now that they were fully exposed to the coolness from the air conditioning, and he was staring at them. She bit her lip. The knife left her neck. He placed it between his teeth, used both his hands to grab either side of her waist and lifted her up. He set her on the edge of the bed, which meant she was now quite high off the ground. It was a huge king-size, four-poster bed, one of those that came with a footstool because the mattress rested so far up. Placing her on top of the bed made it easier for him to do what he had been longing to do, now that he didn't have to bend so far over. He removed the knife from his mouth. Shoving her legs apart, he placed the point so it rested against her pantily-clad crotch.

"I will use this if you try anything, you understand that, don't you?" He looked her directly in the eyes as he questioned her. She blinked. "Good. Now lay back."

Again she did what he ordered her to do, feeling she really did not have much choice. After all, her legs dangled over the edge of the bed with a knife between them. She stared at the ceiling. She could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to look at him. Hot breath suddenly surrounded her left nipple, followed by warm moisture. His tongue flicked and circled her aureole, while his left thumb circled her right one. Against her will, her breasts swelled slightly and her nipples darkened as blood rushed to those areas, causing tingling sensations. She squeezed her eyes shut and pursed her lips as he clamped down, sucking and nipping lightly, then harder and harder. He used his teeth to tug and pull at her nipple and his fingers did the same with the other. He kept at it for a few minutes, and she had to grind her teeth to keep from moaning. She didn't want him to know he was getting to her again. But he must have read her mind, because he pulled away at that exact moment. With one swift movement, he cut the crotch of her panties in half, then extended a finger so that the tip rest at her hole.

"I told you I'd have you ready for me," he chuckled cruelly, sliding his finger in quite easily.

She realized that she had been holding her breath, and she gasped for air. His finger probed and pressed against her inner walls, and she gasped again, this time because he hit an extremely sensitive spot, one her husband never seemed to be able to find.

"Fucking whore! Listen to yourself. You want this, don't you?"

She shook her head no, but knew he didn't believe her. He pulled his finger out and cut away the rest of her panties. Grabbing one of her wrists, he forced her to sit up. He reached into his front pockets, then into his back pocket, throwing various items onto the bed next to her - the cut-up hose from the other night, a small rectangular shaped item (some type of paddle?), and a few other things that she didn't recognize. He chuckled at her expression.

The next few minutes were a blur of activity. He told her to roll over onto her stomach. He tied a piece of hose to each of her wrists and then to her ankles. He yanked at the hose around her wrists until he had tied one to each of the posts at the head of the bed. He grabbed her hips and made sure that her belly was resting just on the edge of the mattress, legs dangling down. Then he spread them and tied her ankles to each of the end posts, down near the bottom. Therefore, she was half on and half off the bed, her feet not quite touching the floor, her upper body stretched to hold her in place, her ass totally exposed to him. That's when she realized what he had in mind for that small paddle lying next to her. She began to beg him not to hurt her, but he just laughed.

He ran his hands up the back of her thighs, then between them. Continuing upward, he felt along either side of her hips, her waist and finally the outer contours of her breasts. Her breathing became faster, especially when he started to kiss her buttocks while his hands continued to explore her sides. Replacing his lips with his hands, he kneaded her cheeks, messaging them in a way caused her cunny to be more exposed to the cool air. She buried her face into the bedspread, biting on a piece of it to keep from moaning.

SMACK! A stinging sensation caused her to jump as much as was possible considering her bindings. He hadn't slapped her that hard, but it was the surprise of it which caused her to bite harder on the bedspread. He continued to spank her, lightly at first, but soon with increasing intensity. Every so often he would rub the spots that she was sure were starting to redden, softening the burning pain. Because her legs were spread so far apart, her inner thighs and part of her cunt were also accessible to him, and he took advantage of it, slapping those areas as well. She found herself beginning to squirm. Something was happening to her. The pain was beginning to blend with feelings of pleasure. Again, as if he could read her mind, he placed a hand between her legs and chuckled at her wetness, fingering her hole and rubbing her clit. She shuddered.

"Oh, God!" She yelled, and her head flew up. He had just replaced his hand with the paddle and the pain was unbelievable. He smacked her harder and told her again to be quiet. Over and over he paddled her. After every few strokes, he would stop to rub the soreness out and caress her dripping pussy. She couldn't believe what she was feeling, she was so excited that she could not keep her body still. She moved her hips, trying to grind her clit into the bed. She was close to cumming, and she was amazed.

Suddenly, he stopped. "No.....please, no." She whimpered.

He stepped up on to the bed's step stool. He was at just the right height to place the head of his large cock just at her entrance. He rubbed it all over her cunny, completely saturating it with her juices. She moaned every time he touched her clit. His hands dug into her hips, and she muffled a groan when he shoved his entire member into her with one quick thrust. Her buttocks, thighs and cunt still stung from his paddling of her, but his cock felt so good inside her. The pain and the pleasure mixed into one, and she began to shudder uncontrollably. Her arms and legs pulled at her bindings as her whole body reacted to her approaching climax. She could hear him grunting and calling her names, but she didn't care. Her entire being was overwhelmed now, her mind just concentrating on one thing - the intensity of her orgasm. It was almost more than she could bear, and she screamed, writhing and grinding her body into the mattress. And then, just as it was slowing down, her cunt began to spasm again. He was pounding her unmercifully, and her body kept betraying her, cumming over and over again. When he finally froze, letting out a long 'ggrrrrrrr' sound as he exploded inside her, she had no idea of the number of times she had cum herself.

She was totally spent, unable to move except to weep, her mind trying to grasp the fact that a total stranger had just given her the most incredible sexual experience of her life.