Halloween Hell: Karen

The intruder pulls his hips back and thrusts forward, slamming against my ass as he shoves his cock deep inside my womanhood. When he does, I let out a brief yelp from the feeling. It only takes a couple of these thrusts before I feel myself become very wet and loose down there. I feel my sex react and react as if it loves what is happening, instead of rejecting it.

Shocked by this, I don't fight, nor do I kick. I just look over the railing, feeling my tits swing under my nightie at how forceful he's being. Each hard thrust against me makes the railing creak louder and louder, as if his goal is to break it. And as the man goes faster with each and every thrust, this could very well be his goal. To fuck me right through the stair's railing.

An orgasm erupts over me. It's an unexpected and unwanted orgasm, but an orgasm all the same. Unlike other women, I don't scream or moan when I climax. Instead I get tense and internalize it, not allowing my partner to know that I'm having one. When they know they've made you cum, they have power over you.

With my eyes opening wide, I feel the waves of pleasure move over me as this intruder forcefully fucks me. He fucks my 40 year old pussy as if he is mad at me, making sure it is hard and rough. And that's exactly how I like it. Hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to feel something. To which I can feel how angry he is with me, as if I know him or why he's doing this.

The intense waves of pleasure move over me, each one more powerful than the last. These waves feel darker than normal, as this isn't an orgasm that I wanted. The fact that it is against my will makes it feel out of control and crazy powerful. It is for lack of a better word, a wanted unwanted orgasm.

My eyes start to roll as his cock hits deeper than most men can even go. It gets to the point where I hear the wet sounds of sex, causing my orgasm to renew and rush over me. It makes my skin hot and goosebumps to form everywhere.

Suddenly the man pulls his cock out of me. Just pulls back and removes it...then open hand slaps my ass, hard. It's hard enough that my scream from it echoes around the very large room and bounces back to me. Hard enough that I clearly feel the sting of his handprint on my bottom which will surely be a bruise.

The intruder doesn't do anything after that. Doesn't slap my ass again, doesn't flip me over the railing, nothing. He even lets go of me completely, nearly making me flip myself over as I kick my legs due to the orgasm. This makes me panic, where I have to catch myself. My hands grip the stairs' railing on the opposite side, where I push off to get my feet back on solid ground.

When my feet touch, I'm able to turn around, almost. My legs may be touching the ground, but they feel weak from the orgasm. When I turn, I have to grab the railing or fall right on my face. This causes me to panic again, as I'm sure the intruder is about to grab me again.

But no one's here. He's gone. Gone before I could even see any part of him.

Stunned again, I look up the stairs to see if he's running away, but he's not. Nor is he running down the stairs or across the room. And again, even if he did, I would have heard his footsteps running on the stairs. But I didn't hear anything.

Not sure what the hell is going on, I pull my nightie back down so all of my body is covered again. I then listen for sounds of footsteps, breathing or of anything. But there's nothing. Just the normal night sounds from my house. It's like there's no one else here.

"H-Hey, dipshit," I call to the A.I. once again, my voice no longer the stern and confident tone it just was. The chime plays, letting me know that it is listening, but I can't say anything at first. My heart is pounding too fast and I'm breathing too hard to be able to speak. But then I clear my throat and calm down.

"How many people are in the house?" I ask, knowing the protocol. I first ask how many people are in the house, in which the A.I. will scan each room. When it comes back saying that there are 2, I'll ask which room the person is in. Then I'll know where he went. Once I know, I can do something about it.

"Tis only you and your husband, ma'am," The British butler voice replies. Hearing this shocks me to the point that I have to grab the railing or risk falling over. I stare forward, not looking at anything as I try to process this. Did he say what I think he just said?

"My husband?!" I cry out, not believing what I just heard. No way. Not possible. He's dead. I saw him die. His cold dead body was in the casket at the funeral. No way he's here. It's impossible.

"Where is...where is my h-husband?" I demand to know, feeling both scared and angry for some reason. I'm scared as can be after what just happened. That the intruder was able to break in and assault me the way he did. But I'm also very pissed that he is able to scare me. That he was able to do that to me. No one is allowed to do that. No one. No one is allowed to just take what they want from me.

"So sorry ma'am. Unable to locate," The A.I. informs me in its old man British voice, making my anger rise. My eyes narrow and my body tenses as I don't like whatever is going on. It's like the intruder has hacked the A.I. but I don't see how. The way I understood it, the system is on some cloud somewhere, not in a physical location on-site.

My head then turns to look around as I swear I can feel someone looking at me. That the intruder is able to watch me right now. Watch me and see my reactions, secretly laughing at me and how scared he's made me.

It's not my husband, I know that for sure. So it has to be some jackass wanting to mess with me. Some jackass that wants revenge for some reason. There's probably a long list of people that want some sort of revenge against me. To put it a different way, I've been called a Karen many times.

In a way it makes perfect sense. I pissed off some computer nerd to the point he wants revenge. That's how he was able to hack the gate and the security system. But knowing computer nerds, he probably spent all of his loads when he assaulted me earlier. That he got scared from having sex and ran off.

"Hey Dipshit, is security on their way?" I ask, when I notice that security hasn't arrived yet, nor have they called. And they should have done both by now after all that's happened. I also ask this as I want the intruder to know he's fucked if he's still inside the house. That once security arrives, they'll get him. Then I'll pay them $10,000 each if they do what he did to me, to him. Maybe even 50,000 if they make sure he never is seen again by anyone.

"The security applications, along with the communication module has been disabled, ma'am," the A.I. informs me. This makes my stomach sink right to the fucking floor. What? Why? It doesn't make any sense at all. I didn't disable anything. The way I understood it, the system would need my approval to do that. It would need approval from all users so no one person could disable the security.

What the fuck is going on?

"Dipshit, fucking enable everything and get security here, now!" I yell at the stupid computer. There's the familiar chime then a pause as the computer does whatever thinking it needs to do. Only the pause gets longer and longer. Longer than any pause the stupid thing has ever had.

"Sorry ma'am. Not allowed," the British voice tells me. This is the last straw. Something isn't right here at all. It's damn near supernatural and I won't have any part in it.

I rush down the stairs as I'm not staying in here any longer. Whatever game this asshole is playing, he can play it by himself. I'm leaving. I'm going to get out the front door, then get to one of the cars, or hell, I'll run out the gate.

"NO DAMN IT!" I yell out from the stairs as the front door begins to close. It's the freaking A.I.. It can open and close any door on command. And it's clear something is telling it to close and probably lock the front door. I know it's the A.I. because of the slow speed of the door. It goes slow to make sure anyone in the way can see it move before it closes on them.

I'm so far away that it'll close before I'll get there. I manage to get to the ground floor but after just a few steps it's clear there's no way I'll reach it. With my heart pounding, my fear increasing and my anger high, I stare at the door as it closes then locks. With no turn deadbolt, there's no way for me to manually open the door. The only way to do it manually is to get the door-tool thing, and I have no clue where it is. The help takes care of crap like that.

I stand in the middle of the entry room, breathing heavy. So many emotions flood into me that it all sort of mixes together, making it very hard to think of what to do. There's someone in the house, that much is clear. What do I do then?

I need something to defend myself. When he comes to attack me again, I can fight him off or hopefully kill him. That and my cell phone. If I get my cell, I can call the police. Or the security force. Well...my cell is in my bedroom, while the closest weapon I can get to is a knife from the kitchen.

Thinking fast, I decide the best plan is to get a knife, then make my way upstairs. That way I can fight him off if I need to. After all, he's just a computer nerd. I can take a computer nerd.

Rushing, I turn around and bypass the stairs and go to the hallway next to it. I half run, half walk down the hallway as I make my way towards the kitchen. Just a few rooms before I get to it.

As I do this, I keep looking around, expecting the intruder to pop out at any moment. But for some reason I feel that he's upstairs. Else, wouldn't I have heard him? I still don't hear anything out of the normal.

I finally pop into the kitchen, where it is dim and shadowy as well with just a few nightlights on and no windows. Despite how creepy it looks, I know there's no intruder here. There's no place for him to hide, unless he's in one of the cabinets, and he'd have to be extremely small and flexible for that.

Going slow as I walk about the kitchen, I find the butcher knifes. I rarely ever come in here, so I'm not sure where anything is. But I do find the knifes hanging on the wall on a magnetic thing. It takes me a couple of pulls to pull off the longest one, but I do indeed get it.

I proceed to hold it out in front of me, prepared to stab anything that gets in front of me. Holding the knife makes me feel so much better. It gives me the feeling of being in control again. That if the bastard tries anything, I can slash his throat and laugh as he bleeds out.

Then I see something, in which I'm not sure what I'm seeing. It's like my brain is seeing it, but not processing it. In a way it feels like my mind has snapped and a weird sort of blanked out feeling comes over me.

There appears to be some sort of fabric floating in the air over the kitchen table. Just floating with nothing that I can see holding it up. But it's stretched out, like there are invisible hands holding it so people could admire it.

The dark fabric is about a yard long, and looks made of mesh. Black mesh at that. It's the fabric where you can both see and not see through it. The type they make high school kids use for their backpacks in ghetto areas so they can tell they don't have guns.

Confused, I walk towards it, knife in hand, prepared to attack. As I get closer, I confirm that it is a length of mesh fabric. I think it might be from the laundry room. Doesn't what's-her-name put socks in something like that when she washes the clothes?

It's just hanging there, like it is resting on an invisible rope or something. I get close to the kitchen table now, where I have to push the kitchen chair back to get closer to the hanging fabric, which is about 2 feet over my head. Now the fabric is overhead where I can tell it is for sure hanging on something. It's hanging on something real.

Looking to the side of the fabric, I see something small reflect the light from one of the nightlights. Moving side to side just a bit, I can make the small bit of light go side to side as well.

"It's fishing line," I say loud out, thoroughly confused. It looks like someone tied fishing line across the kitchen, from wall to wall. They tied it like that, or in a similar way, then hung the mesh fabric on it. Why?

Did the cook do that? Seems weird if he did. What would be the point? Like I said, I rarely ever come in here, so I have no clue what crazy shit they do. Since the cook is from a different country, it could be some weird religious thing I guess.

There's a snap sound, like the sound of plastic breaking. Suddenly the mesh fabric flies downward, right at me, fast. It's as if someone pulled on either ends of the fishing line downward, bringing the fabric down at me with all their might.

"Oh shit!" I scream as the fabric goes right over my face. It is so fast that I can't get my hands up in time to try and stop it. The spread open fabric smacks my face, feeling like a harsh slap to the face.

The fabric not just covers my face, but wraps all the way around it. I drop the knife as my hands shoot up to try and pull the fabric off my head, but something is still pulling it. It pulls backward, hard. Whatever it is, is strong enough that it pulls my head backward, forcing me to stumble backward.

The kitchen chair I pulled out was directly behind me, so I plop into it, hard. My entire body plops down in it, where the mesh is continuously pulled, forcing my head back against the back of the chair. My hands move to try and peel the fabric off, but it's so tightly wrapped and pulled that I can't seem to get my fingers under the fabric.

At first I was scared it was going to choke me, but it's not. The fabric is only over my face, not my neck at all. It is wrapped around the bottom of my jaw, plus it is made of mesh, so I'm able to breathe through it just fine. But it makes everything dark, making it impossible to see anything through it, except for tiny small patches.

My feet are grabbed and lifted by strong arms. They are forced up, where my legs are spread and pressed back against me. Hands grab my thighs hard and crank them up and apart, roughly. Those same hands then grab the back of my chair, pinning me in place with his strong arms.

"NO!" I scream, but it's already too late. The intruder has spread me up to the point he is easily able to insert his cock inside me again. Worse, I only now feel that he managed to lift my nightie when he grabbed me, so it now rests on top of my breasts, exposing all of my naked body to him as he pins me like this.

The intruder's cock slides in me, again. But in this position he's able to go so much deeper than before. So deep that feeling him inside my pussy stuns me all over again. All I can do it sit like this and feel him enter me in such a violating manner. The fact that he must be running around naked barely even enters my mind.

Now he starts to thrust into me. Hard, rough and slow thrusts, meant to hurt. These thrusts make me yelp with each one as they are so damning. They are so rough and he's so large that I can feel myself throbbing down there. That he's already has fucked me raw.

I push with my legs to try and push him off, but he's far too strong. He keeps my legs pinned with ease. So I decide to try and hit him with my hands, maybe even poke his eyes out. But when my hands let go of the mesh, the mesh seems to pull tighter, making it rather painful against my face. So my hands go back to the mesh as I try to pull at it to stop some of the pressure.

I'm fucked again and there's nothing I can do about it. This time the intruder is much rougher than before. Each thrust is a punishment as it feels like he's crushing my body. And each thrust makes me whimper and yelp as there's nothing I can do but feel it.

"No damn it," I grunt as the arousal starts all over again. That dark, forceful arousal. The type that my brain knows I can't enjoy, but my body does anyway.

Never in my life have I felt so helpless, not even when I was poor. I've always been in control, especially in sex. Hell, even in times where it would seem like I wasn't, like when someone was taking me from behind, I was still telling them what to do. I was still in charge.

Only now I'm not. I'm pinned to this chair, being forcefully fucked, and I hate to admit that I'm loving it. My body reacts so much to it that I stop struggling as there's no point. It's hot to the touch and I can feel the orgasm starting to build. So I let him do as he wants. Let him use my body like this, until he finishes.

Despite trying to hold it in, I do moan. They just come out without me stopping them. Never has any moan just forced its way out like these do. I just can't help it. The feeling of his thrusting so hard and fast overwhelms my poor body and I just...moan. They are clear moans of pleasure too. Humiliating moans as this man is owning my helpless body. No matter how I want to tell him to stop, to fuck off, that I'm going to kill him, all I can do is moan at what he's doing to my body.

Tears of anger leak from my eyes as I orgasm again. This one feels so angry as it is forced upon me. It's not something I want at all, but am unable to help as the waves of pleasure move over me. The forcefulness of him, the primal feeling, the fear I have of him...it all comes together to bring me to climax.

"B-B-Bastard," I choke out between moans as it's the best I can do to curse him. My body feels so incredibly hot as the waves move over me, causing his cock moving inside of me to feel incredible. Every inch of my womanhood tingles as what his cock is doing. How it pushes me open, showing it opens all of me, making my body come alive.

Again, he pulls out of me suddenly. Pulls out and lets me go. His arms seem to disappear from pressing me into the chair and he's gone. It takes me a few long moments to understand that he's not just stopped, but left. Left me with my nightie pulled up over my breasts, my entire front on display and still fighting with the fabric.

My body has to finish the orgasm before I can really do anything, as it overpowers my mind, making it impossible to really think. But once it fades, I'm able to reach my hands not over my head, but to the sides and back. When I do, I feel fishing line. It makes me figure out that the mesh is tied with fishing line, and that's what is being pulled back to keep it on my face.

Using a good deal of strength, I pull on the fishing line, snapping it. When I do, I'm finally able to pull the mesh fabric off my head and stand up. Having no clue where my knife went, I turn around, looking for the intruder or my knife, scared that I'm about to attacked again.

Only all I see is the dimly lit kitchen table. There's no one here. Even when I turn around again and again, I'm completely alone. Completely alone with my harsh breathing and throbbing pussy from being violated again.

Walking unsteadily to the kitchen that is behind me, I see the light reflect off the fishing line that is tied to pantry door's knob. Stepping to it, I see fishing line tied to the door handle in a clumsy manner. Once I see it, I figure what he did.

The bastard was hiding in the pantry when I came in. When I stepped into his trap, he yanked on his ends of the fishing line to bring it down on me. Once it was on my face, he pulled on it, forcing me into the chair. Then he tied it to the fucking door handle. I was so freaked out and kept trying to move forward, which made it seem like someone was pulling on it, when I was doing it to myself.

"Motherfucker," I grunt in anger as my poor womanhood still throbs and tingles from the hard and punishing fucking he just gave me. My anger lets me march back to the kitchen table, not scared that he might pop out. Then I start to look for my knife as I fully mean to use it.