What the Cat Nows

"Honey, I'm home!"

Katerina laughed to herself as the only response was a curious *mrow?* from her cat. The silky orange feline didn't stir from where she had been lounging in a sunbeam, but treated Kat to a yawn and few seconds of loud purring upon hearing her name before returning to her nap.

"Love you too," said Kat, dropping her purse next to the door and sparing Honey a scratch behind the ears before collapsing onto the couch with a sigh. It had been a long, hard day at work, complete with a shouting boss and a few tearful moments where she was sure she'd be fired for misplacing a file, and she wanted nothing more than a long, scented bath and a glass of wine.

The wine she could manage, but her tiny apartment bathroom did not feature a bathtub. A nice hot shower would have to do. First, though, a few more minutes of lying insensate on the couch.

Hours later, Kat awoke with a start. A few moments of confusion ensued before she realized she'd drifted off. It was dark out now, moonlight streaming in through the open window. Kat frowned at that. Had she opened the window when she got home? The weather was mild enough, but she rarely left the window open, worrying that her cat would escape and get lost. She must have opened it assuming she would be awake to supervise.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she got up and closed the window, then went searching for Honey. She found her in the bedroom, pawing at the closet door. Kat kept the catnip treats in there, and evidently Honey though she deserved some for staying indoors even though the window had been open. Kat laughed at the thought and scooped the little furball into her arms.

"Not so fast, little lady. You haven't even had dinner yet!"

----

Having fed herself and her feline companion, Katerina finally felt ready for that shower. She undressed in the bedroom, not even bothering to turn the lights on, and tossed her clothes haphazardly onto the floor as they came off. Naked, she considered just going to bed as she was. She was incredibly tired, and felt like her nap on the couch had only made her sleepier. Hands on her bare hips, she surveyed the bed, which she had made up rather hastily that morning in her rush to get to work on time. Although the baby-blue comforter was wrinkled in odd places and a little skewed, it did look awfully cozy...

The king-size bed was the nicest piece of furniture in the 26-year-old's apartment, having come to her only secondhand rather than third or fourth. Being the youngest of four had its pros and cons, but Kat firmly considered the hand-me-downs to be among the pros. Why pay for furniture when you could get an older brother's old bedframe *and* mattress completely for free? Either one would have cost her a pretty penny new, probably more than she could afford.

As luxurious as it looked, Kat knew she would sleep better if she were clean. With one more longing look at her comforter, she grabbed a towel and headed into the adjoining bathroom.

Kat's bathroom was tiny and cramped, as if whoever had designed the apartment had left this room till last and realized too late that they hadn't left enough space. The toilet was wedged awkwardly into a corner, requiring Kat to practically fold herself in half when she had to sit on it, and she was a fairly small person. It was lucky she had never brought a man home since she moved in here two years ago; anyone much taller than her would have trouble getting in there.

The shower wasn't much better. It was the kind with a semi-transparent plastic door, only the room was barely large enough to allow the door to swing out. Kat always had to maneuver a little carefully to get in.

After starting the water running and hanging her towel near the shower door for easy access, she took a moment to examine her figure, or what she could see of it in the small mirrored cabinet above the sink. With her work schedule, she hadn't had much time to hit the gym lately, but she was still fairly toned. Her position was supposedly a desk job, but she ended up on her feet much of the day, running back and forth with messages, files, and coffee orders, so she was far from sedentary. She was still a little curvier than she really would have liked to be, but that had been the case her whole life, no matter how much time she spent on the treadmill.

With a sigh, Kat turned away from the mirror. Reaching up, she released her hair from the bun she kept it in for work, allowing the silky brown waves to tumble down her bare back until they just brushed the curve of her ass. Normally a practical sort of girl, Kat's long hair was her one indulgence. She had been growing it out since she was thirteen, and took a lot of pride in keeping it healthy. The more expensive hair products required to achieve that were one of the few non-essentials she was willing to splurge her meager paychecks on.

The water should be warm enough now, she thought, so she swung the door open and inched her way in. The water felt heavenly after such a hard day, and Kat just stood there for a moment, letting it wash away the stress and pain of a job she hated and a boss who hated her.

She'd quit if she could, but this was the best paying job she'd had in a long time. She wasn't really qualified for anything better. For that matter, she wasn't really qualified for her current position, if her boss was to be believed. If only she'd finished college, she thought wistfully. She'd dropped out when it had gotten too hard, but life without a degree was turning out to be a lot harder.

With that depressing thought, Kat squeezed some shampoo into her hand and began to lather up. As she cleaned herself, her thoughts drifted, wondering how her brothers were doing. She had always been close to her brothers, but adult life had separated them and she hadn't heard much from any of them in a few months. Though she was the youngest, she felt a certain protectiveness over her brothers. When their mom had died all those years ago, Kat had become the only female presence in the boys' lives, and she took a certain pride in making sure they still felt cared for and nurtured. Of her three older brothers, the oldest two were now married, each to a wonderful woman, so Kat didn't worry about them quite as much as she used to. But she ought to check in on Ryan, the brother closest to her in age. He made good money after starting up his own tech company, but she knew he got lonely. Maybe she hadn't heard from him because he had been seeing someone new? That would be nice, she thought. Ryan deserved happiness more than anyone else she knew.

As she finished her ablutions, she thought briefly about masturbating. She could use the stress relief after a day like today, to be sure. But she was awfully tired, and the shower had eased most of her built up tension. Besides, she had just been thinking about her brothers, and she felt too weird about masturbating right after thinking about them. So instead she stepped out of the shower and reached for her towel, already anticipating the cozy warmth of her bed.

--

Honey had returned to the closet door, batting at the corner with her paw. She sent Katerina a glare as the woman returned to the bedroom, wrapped in a towel and illuminated from behind by the bathroom light in the dark bedroom. Kat laughed and moved across the room to open the closet door. "All right, Honey. You've been very patient. Yes, I'll get you a--"

Her last word was cut off as a large figure burst from the closet as she reached for the door, tackling her to the bed. Honey fled the room with a yowl. Kat opened her mouth to scream, but a large hand was over her mouth before she could even draw a breath, pressing so hard she felt her teeth cut into the inside of her lip. She struggled, but her attacker was strong. He held her down seemingly with ease, capturing one of her flailing wrists with the hand not over her mouth, pinning her other arm down with his knee.

She looked up at the stranger, terror clawing at her mind as she squirmed against his firm grip. Where the hell had he come from?! The man wore a ski mask, the kind with mesh over the eye and mouth holes, so that Kat couldn't even tell what color his eyes were.

Her towel had vanished in the commotion, and she lay naked beneath him. Her struggles began to slow as she realized they were in vain, and finally they ceased. She heaved a heavy sob into his hand, fighting unsuccessfully to hold back her tears. She couldn't believe this was happening to her!

Once her struggles ceased, the man slowly released his grip on her wrist, then paused, watching her. When she did not resume struggling, he reached slowly into his pocket, ready to grab her again if she moved. Kat, terrified, only sobbed harder into his other hand, still over her mouth. He swiftly pulled out, not a weapon as she had feared, but a triangle of cloth, and in one swift motion uncovered her mouth and stuffed the cloth into it before pressing his hand down over it again. Only after this efficient gagging was complete and the taste of her own juices filled her mouth did Kat realize she recognized the scrap of cloth -- the underwear she had worn today. When did he have time to grab it from wherever she had tossed it before her shower? How long had he been hiding in that closet?

Consumed in her swirling thoughts and fears, she almost didn't notice her attacker's actions as he reached into his pocket again, only snapping back to reality when he placed a piece of duct tape over her mouth. He removed his knee from her arm as he ripped another, longer piece free of the roll, and before Kat could blink he had her wrists taped together in front of her.

At this, raw panic overtook her, and she spent a few more moments futilely trying to pull her hands apart. The intruder allowed it, still straddling her prone form but sitting back on his haunches to watch as her desperate struggles slowly ground to a halt once more.

Exhausted, Kat could offer no protest as he hauled her further onto the enormous bed, laying her out on her back in the middle of her disheveled bedspread. On his knees above her, he pulled her bound hands up above her head and just gazed down at her, seemingly admiring her naked form. Realizing her only hope now was to memorize as much as she could to relay to the police, she blinked her tears away and studied him in return.

There was frustratingly little to take note of. He was dressed from head to toe in unrelenting black. In addition to the ski mask, he wore a long-sleeved turtleneck, trousers, gloves, and boots, covering every inch of his skin. She wouldn't even be able to tell them what race he was! The only feature she could tell for certain was his size. He seemed to tower over her even on his knees, his broad shoulders blocking out the light from the bathroom as well as what little moonlight entered the room through the gap in the curtains.

At last he moved, trailing one gloved hand over her curves, brushing down over her breasts, her stomach, then her hips, just barely touching her with a single fingertip. The gentle touch was so at odds with his brusque handling of her moments earlier, the fabric of his glove so soft against her skin, Kat felt her breath catch in her throat. He circled her left nipple with his finger, watching it stiffen in response. He tried to pinch it, but the cotton glove wouldn't allow purchase, the soft fabric too yielding to get a good grip. After a few moments of hesitation, he ripped the gloves off, throwing them to the floor with a frustrated motion. *Aha!* thought Kat. At least now she could tell he was white.

That thought was quickly lost to sensation as he kneaded her breasts. His hands were rough, and when he pinched her nipple this time, she arched up from the bed with a gasp. His left hand remained on her breasts, playing with one, then the other, back and forth, while with his right he trailed down her ribs. He followed the dip of her waist with his thumb, explored the curve of her hips, then brushed down the outside of one thigh, before trailing the backs of his fingers slowly back up the inside of the same leg. As his hand approached her mound, she clenched her thighs together, suddenly remembering that she didn't want this, however much her pussy ached for his touch. But she would not be given that choice. He pried her legs apart effortlessly and settled himself between them.

He rested his left hand around her throat, and she froze. His grip remained loose, but the reminder that he could hurt her if he chose was potent, and Kat remained still as his right hand explored her folds, ashamed to realize he would find her already wet. It didn't take him long to find her clit. When his calloused fingers touched her there, she gasped through her panties and squirmed against his hands. His fingers on her neck tightened, not enough to hurt, but as a warning. She couldn't stop, however, her movements an involuntary reaction to the incredible sensation of his fingers on her, in her, rubbing back and forth over her. His hands felt nothing like her own, and it had been so long since she had been touched there by anyone else. She cried out through the gag, unable to stay quiet. The hand on her throat tightened further, but the loss of air to her lungs only made it harder to hold herself back. She didn't want this, she didn't want *him,* but it felt so good!

Kat fought against her impending orgasm, but she couldn't deny that laying out like this, naked, bound and gagged, being choked and touched against her will by a stranger, filled some dark need deep in her psyche. So much so that when he stopped, she groaned in frustration. The sound was muffled by her panties, but she could tell he heard it. She couldn't see his expression, but something in his posture told her he was pleased.

Suddenly he was gone. She could hear him rifling around for something on the floor, and had just enough time to wonder if she should move, try to escape, before he was back, reaching for her face. She flinched away, but couldn't stop him from wrapping something around her head, over her eyes -- it was her own stocking. Soon she was thoroughly blindfolded, and she wondered why; he had ensured with his outfit she wouldn't see anything useful anyway. Then she felt his hot breath on her bare pussy lips. He had taken off the mask!

Her hands, though bound, could still reach her face, and her fingers were free. She could tear off the blindfold, see this bastard's face-- But the thought was erased from her mind by a long, slow lick up her slit. She shuddered, her hands falling limp above her head, only to clutch at the comforter in the next moment, as he sucked her clitoris into his mouth. He rolled the tiny bud with his tongue while slowly working first one finger, then two, into her pussy. She was tight, and his fingers felt enormous. She almost couldn't bear the stretch, but then his fingers curved inside her and rubbed her in just the right spot--

She came, screaming wordlessly into the gag.

When she came back to herself, he was above her, preparing to enter her. She was still blindfolded, but she could feel his breath on her cheek, and the blunt head of his cock brushed her pussy lips with every exhale. His movements gentle, he unwound the stocking from her eyes. When it fell away she noted with disappointment that he had replaced the ski mask, concealing his face once more.

His hand returned to her throat, squeezing lightly, and she tensed. Was this another threat, or had he noticed how much she had liked being choked before? If only he would say something!

To her frustration, he stayed silent, staring into her eyes as he flexed his hips, slowly pushing into her. Thoughts of identifying him by his voice fled her mind as she felt how thick his cock was. Even with only the mushroom-shaped head inside her, she felt impossibly full. There was no way he could fit it all inside her! But inexorably, inch by painfully stretching inch, he did.

At last she felt his balls brush her ass, his entire fat cock resting inside her tiny pussy. He must have been eight inches at least, Kat thought, both longer and thicker than anything she'd ever had inside her before. She was certain she could feel the head of his cock putting pressure on her cervix, so completely did he fill her. She could feel every vein and ridge pressing against the walls of her pussy, still sensitive from her orgasm. She shifted uncomfortably, and the hand on her throat tightened.

He stayed there a moment, seeming to relish the feeling of being balls-deep in her tight pussy. Then he slowly pulled out until just the tip of his cock was inside her. In one fluid motion, he slammed back into her, his balls slapping her ass, and a scream died in her throat as he choked her harder. He kept squeezing as he fucked her hard, his free hand snaking under her to grip her ass cheek, keeping her still to receive his thrusts.

Every time she felt close to blacking out, he would ease his grip on her throat, just enough to allow her a breath or two, before tightening it again. A desperate lightheadedness was beginning to overtake her and she was close to another orgasm when he removed his hand from her throat entirely. Instead he gripped her ass with both hands, his fingers digging painfully into her cheeks, raising her lower half almost off the bed to meet each thrust of his thick cock, which were coming faster and harder.

Kat had never felt so helpless. She could do nothing to stop him from fucking her. She couldn't speak, could barely move. She was so powerless even to direct her own life, to make her own choices. She felt certain that even if he hadn't caught her unaware and naked, even if this encounter had started with the two of them on equal footing, it would still have ended like this, with her naked, bound, and submissively taking his cock. She was nothing but a pathetic loser, and now she knew she was a slut, too. Only a slut would enjoy her own rape.

Something in the cadence of the intruder's breathing changed, and Kat recognized the sounds of a man coming close to orgasm. She remembered with a flash that he hadn't put on a condom. She had been on the pill for several years, having not bothered to stop after her last breakup, but she had gotten lazy with it, and couldn't remember if she had taken it this morning, or yesterday for that matter. "Pull out!" she tried to scream, but her words were unintelligible through the panties and duct tape. She began hitting him with her bound hands, desperate to make him stop. He couldn't come inside her!

He pulled away, and for a moment she thought he had understood. But his body language spoke of annoyance, and he roughly flipped her over onto her stomach, trapping her hands beneath her. From behind, he spread her legs and began fucking her again, the new angle allowing his cock to reach new depths inside her, a feat she wouldn't have thought possible, and rubbing the head of his cock against her g-spot with every thrust.

She sobbed into the comforter, the pleasure and fear and panic all roiling inside her, coalescing at last into acceptance. She was helpless to stop him, and it was pointless to try. She may as well get what enjoyment out of this she could, and take his cum like a good little slut, since that was all she could ever hope to be.

That thought pushed her over the edge, and she came, the words "good little slut" echoing through her mind. The man above her groaned, the first sound he had made, and emptied his load into her spasming cunt. The sensation of his hot cum filling her was like nothing she had ever felt, and her orgasm seemed to stretch forever. She could feel every pulse and twitch of his cock as he came, still thrusting lightly as if to get his cum as deep into her as possible. At last he collapsed on top of her, still plugging her entrance with his softening cock.