Michele And The Predator

Michele sat down in front of the dressing table and slipped her feet into her high-heels; although a size eleven her feet were not grotesque because they matched the proportions of her body. After all she was a small size eight in men's shoes and her feet were considered quite small for a man. She turned her chair sideways to the dresser so that she could adjust her stockings; she pulled the sleek nylon taught on her shapely leg and her hand disappeared under the hem of her slip as she adjusted the clip on a garter strap. She waggled her right foot from side to side, admiring her own pretty feet in the high-heels and appreciating the gleam of the lights on her high sheen stockings. Little did she know that she was not the only one admiring her legs and feet!

Michele stood and advanced towards the bed to select an ensemble for the evening. She finally decided on a white ‘Carla Zampatti' A-line skirt and a mauve satin long-sleeved blouse she had purchased from Supré. She always wore long sleeved blouses or jackets because although she kept her fingers and the backs of her hands free of hair, she could only lightly shave her arms with a beard trimmer. Her tanned arms had only a light sprinkling of fair hair but she felt that fully shaving them would be too noticeable when she wore T-shirts and Polo's when she was Michael.

Michele donned the blouse, fumbling with the buttons; she was still not used to them being on the opposite side to men's shirts. Then she stepped into the skirt and pulled it up around her waist, tucking the blouse into the skirt and closing the zipper at her waist. She went back to her dresser and mooched through the jewellery box and decided upon two matching silver bracelets for her left wrist and a silver amulet set with a large black opal for the right. She slipped a matching opal ring set in silver on the ring finger of her right hand and a diamante ring set in white gold on her left ring finger.

Michele pushed her hands out before her and admired the effect of the jewellery against her slim wrists and her plum-red painted fingernails; she had taste she thought, but she still projected that slightly sluttish style she favoured. She looked at herself in the mirror and was pleased with the result. She twirled around and admired her ample but well-proportioned bottom; the A-line skirt was a snug fit. She drained her wine glass and tottered on her high-heels as she started from the bedroom to the kitchen to open another bottle of wine. She was drinking a lot lately; but what did she care? As long as she kept her weight in check; it's not as if she had a boyfriend to keep sober for. She sauntered down the hallway towards the kitchen, her heels clicking on the slate tiles as she did her best vamp imitation, swinging her buxom sexy bottom from side to side and giggled to herself again.

The predator had let himself in easily through the kitchen window whilst Michele was making the final adjustments to her clothing in the bedroom. The kitchen window looked out over a small garden, dark at night, and well hidden from the main road; the lock was cheap and easily defeated. The predator was silent as he climbed through the window and dropped soundlessly to the tiled floor; he'd had plenty of practice after all. He heard the clatter of high heels on the tiles and a little giggle from the hallway. ‘Oh this bitch would not be giggling for long!' he thought, as he hid behind the opened door that led into the kitchen from the hallway.

The predator quietly lowered the bag containing his burglary kit to the floor and reached inside it to take out a gag and a pair of handcuffs. He didn't like using the gag on his victims because it ruined their lipstick and distended their faces. He liked to look into their pretty faces while he did things to them, and once they learned resistance was futile (and they all learned that lesson pretty quickly) he liked to kiss them. The woman who had excited him enough to risk what he was about to do had affected him strongly; he wanted to take her as soon as possible, his member was so hard that it was uncomfortable in his pants. He would take her quickly in the kitchen and then they could retire to her bedroom for the rest of the evening's entertainment. he thought to himself.

The predator heard her high-heels getting louder now as she approached the kitchen door and his drunken mind reflected on his last glimpse of her before he had jumped down off the perch outside her bedroom window. Her heavy makeup, the black nylon slip in contrast to her sheer taupe stockings (he preferred women who wore stockings instead of pantyhose), and those shiny black open-toe high heels. He would take her fully clothed, right here in the kitchen; he would take her in such a way that she would know he was in charge and that resistance was futile. He would take her in a way that a woman of her breeding had probably never experienced before.

Michele walked into the darkened kitchen and headed straight for the wine rack above the breakfast bar. She didn't bother turning on the light as the light spilling in from the hallway was ample for the task; besides she hadn't closed the curtains in here and even though her kitchen window was not in open sight of the road she was still paranoid about anyone seeing her dressed en-femme. She was thinking of whether to open a bottle of Shiraz or merlot when she felt herself being pushed heavily from behind and she collided heavily with the kitchen table.

The predator pounced on her when she was halfway across the room. He used his weight and strength to propel her towards the kitchen table. She was a big woman and he was taking no chances; as she crashed into the table he pushed her shoulders down and pulled her hands up behind her back and clamped the handcuffs on her wrists. He lifted his knee and slammed it into her well proportioned behind to hold her against the table and pulled up on her cuffed wrists. As expected, she pushed her upper body upwards and back in an effort to escape, but this only assisted him. As she rose up and gasped, a prelude to either to a scream or cry for help, he pulled the ball bag over head and into her mouth, securing the straps tightly around her neck. He now had her where he wanted her.

The predator pushed down on her shoulders so that she was bent over the kitchen table. In the dim light he could now see her mauve satin blouse and the white A-line skirt; subconsciously he approved of her style, he loved it when they dressed nicely for him. He wasted no time. The predator kicked her heels apart so that her legs were spread as far as the tight skirt would allow and released one of his hands from her cuffed wrists and undid his flies and released his erect organ.

The predator was extremely aroused and he could smell the stale alcohol on his own breath as he panted in excitement. He reached under the woman's skirt with his free hand and grasped the waistband of her panties and yanked them down. He was puzzled when her panties came to an abrupt halt at the top of her thighs and then he realised that she was wearing her garter belt over her panties and because of this her panties could be lowered no further without releasing the clips on the garter straps attached to her stocking tops. It didn't matter, her panties were down far enough for him to carry out his intentions.

The predator stepped in close between her splayed high-heeled feet; his crotch close to her buttocks, one hand gripping her handcuffed wrists and pushing her body down hard on the kitchen table, the other hand under her skirt pulling her panties down so that they bunched around her thighs. He bought his free hand out from under her skirt and spat in the palm of it; then he spread the glistening spit over his tumescent penis, ensuring his glans was completely lubricated.

The predator lifted the woman's skirt up and thrust forward. His cock came up against a membrane of sheer nylon, and for a moment he couldn't figure out what had happened. Was the silly bitch wearing two pairs of panties? Then he figured out what was preventing him from reaching the object of his desire; it was the gusset of the woman's pantyhose. The dumb cunt was wearing pantyhose under her stockings! Why the fuck would she do that?

The predator took no time to try to answer these questions, he was now so stimulated that he was close to climax. He pushed forward with his hips and felt his member force the nylon membrane of the pantyhose into the crease between the woman's buttocks. He pushed harder still and felt his glans nestle into the woman's anal bud, her silken hose wrapped around the sensitive head of his penis stimulating it into bringing forth a trickle of pre-seminal fluid; the clear liquid combining with his spittle to further lubricate his member. He grunted and pushed forward with all his bodyweight and actually felt the heavy table move an inch or two as he thrusted.

The predator felt his iron hard cock tear through the gossamer thin pantyhose gusset and then slam against the woman's tight sphincter. His cock paused briefly at her resisting puckered entrance, then his weight and the lubricant did their job and his shaft slid slowly and steadily inside the woman's tight back passage. The Predator's crotch slammed hard against the woman's soft round buttocks and his scrotum rested in the silken purse of her bunched panties stimulating him to extremis. He ground his crotch in a circular motion against the woman's lovely soft arse and pulled her back hard against him and unloaded stream after stream of hot semen into her tight channel.

The predator howled and shuddered as his orgasm shook through his body; he ground his hips harder against her and stimulated his scrotal sac by rubbing it against the silken gusset of her pantyhose. His climax over, he pushed the woman forward and pulled back from her. He watched in awe as a trickle of semen seeped out of her and ran down her thighs, staining her stocking tops and pooling in the crotch of her panties. He had only just started with this bitch; he was going to have some fun tonight!

Michele lost all thoughts of red wine as she was propelled forward and slammed hard against the heavy wooden kitchen table. She was confused as to what was happening; her thought processes slow and fuzzy because of the wine she had drunk. She realised a stranger was in her house and that she was being pushed down across her own kitchen table but couldn't figure out why. For one second she stupidly panicked at the thought that someone had found her dressed as a woman; and then a split second later she realised that she had a lot more to worry about than the exposure of her transvestism. She realised she was in serious trouble when she felt the handcuffs clamp on her wrists.

Michele's fighting instinct took over and she used all her strength to lift her body up off the table so that she could yell a protest to the man who was assaulting her. She understood now that the perpetrator believed he was dealing with a woman; if she could just let him know that he had handcuffed a man, not a woman, maybe the intruder would let her go, or at least think twice about what he was about to do. Maybe she could negotiate with the trespasser; offer him money, her car, anything to get him out of her house without any further indignity.

Michele never got a chance to say a word; as soon as she opened her mouth the rubber ball gag was pushed into it. She started to hyperventilate, being forced to breathe in and out through her nose; then her chest was slammed downwards on top of the kitchen table and she couldn't move. She stumbled as her heels were kicked apart and her legs spread to the full extremity allowed by her tight skirt. The home invader held her tightly against the table so that she wouldn't fall, and then terror struck her she felt his hand reach under her skirt.

Michele was horrified at the prospect of what was about to happen to her. A glimmer of hope surfaced; he would realise she was not a woman and let her go, surely! Then she felt him yank her panties down and was actually relieved when her panties entangled in her garter straps and would go no further. As soon as the pervert reached under her to touch what he thought would be female genitalia he would be in for a terrible shock. He would be shocked by what he found there and would stop what he was doing. He would be disgusted to find out that she was a transvestite and may even beat her, but at least he would stop this perverted attack.

Michele's glimmer of hope faded when she heard his flies unzip and the sound of him spitting into his hand. She was about to attempt one last struggle when her attacker's full weight pressed against her backside pinning her to the table. She screamed to herself in her head as she felt her skirt being raised and the gusset of her pantyhose stretch as her attacker's penis nestled in the bud of the entrance to her back passage. The fool didn't realise she wasn't a woman! He thought she was the lady of the house and he intended to defile her in this despicable manner to gratify his primal urges! Then she felt her attacker's hard hot member tear through her pantyhose and begin to invade her.

Michele screamed into the gag at the intense pain as the hot cock forced its way inside her. No sound would issue forth around the gag but that silent scream would live in her memory for a long time. The man's member slid slowly but inevitably deeper and deeper inside her; surprisingly after the initial shock and intense pain she felt as he had entered her, the feel of the invader's lubricated penis became less painful; it just felt uncomfortable and filling.

Michele felt the intruder's crotch press hard against her soft buttocks and realised with some relief that he was now fully inside her. She felt him pull her soft bum back hard against him and the gyrations of his hips as he worked his turgid member around inside her tight passage. Then she felt the hot gush of his semen as he spent himself deep inside her; she heard his groan and could smell the stale alcohol on his breath as he bayed and howled with his climax.

Michele was absolutely astonished at what happened next. As her defiler's glans pulsated and throbbed against her sensitive prostrate, washing it with his hot seed, she felt a stab of exquisite sexual pleasure pulse through her lower regions and she simultaneously stiffened and ejaculated into the crotch of her pantyhose. She couldn't suppress the pleasure she felt even though she felt utterly debased. She collapsed against the kitchen table as her orgasm subsided and she felt her attacker pull himself slowly out of her and was surprised that it did not hurt but in fact was mildly pleasurable.

Michele could feel that the tight bud of her back passage was left slightly open after the ravaging it had taken and she felt her attacker's warm sperm run out of her and down her thighs where it pooled in her panties and stained her stocking tops. The front gusset of her pantyhose was soaked with her own spend whilst her attacker's semen ran down her thighs into her bunched up panties. Her head was spinning with the realisation of what had just happened to her; then she began to wonder what would happen next.

To be continued.......................................