If You Scream, I'll Kill You...

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A burglar has his way with Elise.
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Hellooooooo,

This is a bit of an odd one, darker and weirder but I felt like writing it anyways. Eh, oh well.

Enjoy!

~E

*

I don't understand why I'm painted as the bad guy.

I mean, I can't help my ways. Sure, call me a bitch or a cunt, I don't care. And, according to all of my exes, that's all I ever was. Yes, I understand I may have been high maintenance and uptight, perhaps even superficial but there's a reason for that.

You see, I was verbally abused as a kid, having ruined my mother's body to destroying my father's dreams until they adopted my younger sister. I hated Emma, just all out despised her and that was because dad preferred her over me. But I still held a sisterly bond with her even after my ill treated ways caused her discomfort, even after our fall out all those years ago.

Fuck, I was happy she was now with my ex, Max. She deserved it.

Here's the thing: she never saw what they did to me. I bore the brunt of their harsh words, their wicked ways and for that, I ended up the way I am today. A bitch. A cold hearted, ruthless cunt.

I lashed out by spending loads of money to help ease my pain. Pathetic, yes, but I couldn't help myself; it was my outlet. That and cutting.

I had several small scars on the insides of my thighs from the constant berating my father gave me. Nothing was ever good enough; my grades, my looks, my personality, nothing seemed to please them no matter what I did. I achieved high levels of grades in school, I was a cheerleader, in the best shape of my life but... it still wasn't enough for their perfect way of life.

I used to cry myself to sleep almost every night. I'd even consider suicide but I knew I could never go through with it. Instead, I'd dropped the handful of pills or pull the knife away from my wrist, hearing it clatter on the tiled flooring of my now apartment.

At the moment, I was cooking some alfredo, listening to music. The classics blared throughout my dining room of my studio apartment, and I was dancing along to the beat of "Dancing Queen" by ABBA. It's funny because that's all I ever wanted to do. I have always loved dancing and was pretty good at it. Until daddy dearest claimed I would never make any money and promptly shut down my dreams of becoming a professional.

Still, I took classes and starred in a few musicals here and there, just doing it for fun. I loved it.

I had my blonde hair up in a messy bun, basic white girl style, and I felt it bobbing as I moved my hips. I was in some old sweatpants, some stolen from my most recent breakup, an old hoodie from an Ivy League school my father had wanted me to attend some odd years ago.

I hadn't been out of my apartment in two months. Yes, two months. I mean, yeah, I went and got groceries but other than that, I haven't left. My friends all tried to get me to go out, all wanted to have fun but I just wasn't having any of it. I was in a deep depression, especially since my ex dumped me over the phone. I really did love him but he didn't understand I have a mental illness. He could never wrap his head around what was wrong with me.

I'm bipolar.

I'm defective and useless and I hate myself for it.

I found out when I was twenty and ever since then, I've been popping pills like candy but lately, I feel as if they're not working anymore. I've been super down but maybe I'm just truly sad and don't deserve happiness-

I dropped my wooden spoon on the counter when it sounded like my front door handle jiggled. My head jerked to the left and I squinted at the large thing, seeing I had forgotten to lock it. Making up my mind, I crossed over to the door and locked it. I cocked a brow and just shrugged, figuring it was my imagination freaking out and went back to cooking.

I began singing the chorus to "Hooked on a Feeling" and swinging my hips back and forth. I was just about to add the cream sauce when something warm covered my mouth. I gasped when I realized it was a hand pressing firmly into my cheek.

"If you scream, I'll kill you," a harsh and deep voice reverberated in my ear. A slight accent, maybe southern, drawled on each syllable.

I was standing over my stainless steel stove, my set of knives sitting adjacent on a butcher's block to the right. If I could just reach-

"Don't even think about it," he growled and pushed me to the end of my counter space. My fridge was on the other end and here, I was facing a floor-to-ceiling window and I could see my reflection in the darkness outside. I lived in the back of my building which was nice because I got a pleasant view of the city's park below me.

Maybe there would be someone who could see me, could call for help.

My hazel eyes were large and round and a black glove occupied the lower half of my face. The man behind me wore a mask with a skull on the front which allowed me a clear view of his emerald eyes and black eyebrows. The mask was tied around his head leaving messy hair sticking out in all directions. He appeared handsome enough with a strong jaw peeking out just at the edge of the mask but I didn't recognize his eyes from anywhere and I was pretty good at that. He was clad in all black from head to toe starting with his hair. I couldn't discern any body art or distinguishing features that would be supportive for when I would need to point him out in a lineup.

"Close your eyes," he ordered when he caught me staring at him in the window.

One of my brows rose and I defied his commanded. When I did, he tightened his hand around my mouth and brought his other one up to slide beneath my hoodie. I jerked when his thumb grazed against my nipple, causing it to become hard instantly. Speaking of, something quite massive was nestled between my ass cheeks. He even had his knee spreading my thighs apart, locking me place so I couldn't move!

The thing was, how did he know I wasn't wearing a bra? I didn't have overly large breasts, rounding a mid C but my hoodie concealed them significantly so this was strange.

So far, he wasn't forcing me. And he didn't have any weapons, to my knowledge at least. Could this be some sick dude just here for fun? He seemed harmless other than his threatening words so, what could I lose by obeying him? I mean, I hadn't had sex in nearly eight months and my fingers weren't doing the trick. Sure, I had sex toys but I preferred the real thing, you know? And, with my most recent relationship, we weren't physical at the end which was mostly my fault but whatever.

There was just something about real flesh inside of you over silicone.

Wait, what was I seriously considering letting this stranger take me? I didn't even know him let alone recognize him from anywhere. Yet, I really wanted this. I was craving some wild, batshit crazy sex and I had deep longing that needed to be satisfied. For some reason, I knew he was the man to do the job.

So, I relaxed against him and could practically feel his smile behind that mask.

"Good girl," he muttered before the hand beneath my hoodie dove straight into my bottoms, pushing aside my thong and impaling me with two fingers.

He still wore the leather glove so they felt larger than necessary and I bit his hand to keep from crying out. It hurt like a bitch and even a few tears began forming at the corners of my eyes. I clawed at his hand in my pants to try and pull him out but his hand pressed deeper while his thumb found my clit. He started massaging it slowly and the pain, while it lingered still, it did subside somewhat.

My nails dug into his clothed arm as pleasure surged through me and I knew I would come soon. His fingers slipped out of me but not before he shoved them back again forcing a small scream to escape me. This was by far the roughest I had ever experienced and I...I never wanted it to end.

Sick, I know but I felt like I deserved this kind of treatment. I began moaning beneath his hand and closed my eyes but not before they rolled into the back of my head.

My hips moved with his hand as he rubbed faster until I jerked suddenly, his fingers working their way upward, hitting that perfect spot and I came. Hard. My body vibrated with the intense orgasm and I gripped his forearm with both hands as it subsided, leaving me feeling sated.

"Mm," he mumbled behind me before he dropped my pants.

My eyes shot open and grew wide. Okay, I was cool with him fingering me but now- now I wasn't so sure with him fucking me. Or was I?

Maybe I was, deep down, twisted and wanted him more than I wanted any man in my life before. I felt his cock in his jeans brush up against my bare ass and my eyelids fluttered. It had been so long since I'd felt a human touch this way. So long since I had a man's touch for that matter. Not in a loving way but in that way only men have; that automatic dominating way that had you crawling on your knees, begging for more.

The way that could turn any good girl virgin into a straight-up whore because they knew how to fuck a woman.

Yeah, that way.

"Ready, darlin'?" He asked, his eyes catching mine in the window.

They were alight with mischief and he squinted at me when I didn't reply.

"Come on baby, you know you want this," he said as he ground himself into my backside. I closed my eyes and sighed. "I know you're dying to come; I've been watching you become frustrated each time you touched yourself and I knew I was the man for you," he winked at me.

He fucking winked.

Wait, he had been watching me? How? There were no apartment buildings towards the back of my building so...what?

The telltale sound of a zipper echoed behind me and I knew what was coming next. He never removed his pants so he didn't intend to stay. This was a quick fuck; one he'd been planning for quite some time I assume.

I crossed my brows and looked down a little, at the expansive park below us. There was a bench perfectly situated directly beneath my window. One could see into my apartment although this was just the kitchen and I never masturbated anywhere but my bedroom. Well, my bed was behind me, all messy and up on a platform to distinguish it from the rest of the space. Maybe he sat on that bench and used binoculars? I mean, I never noticed him there so, I wondered.

I didn't have long to wonder when he began rubbing his cock under me, grazing across my clit. I shuddered and rolled my eyes. He was long and thick, a nice combination and one I haven't had in a hot minute. The head of his cock paused for a moment to begin rubbing my clit furiously. He placed his free hand on my exposed hip, gripping my flesh so tight, I know he would leave bruises.

I moaned quietly when his head dipped in, my body developing his velvety shaft. He groaned behind me and placed his free hand on my shoulder but still kept his other one on my mouth. He started inserting his cock further into me, stretching me as he did so. I hissed at the slight pain and reached beside me to grip the edge of my counter. I pressed my fingers into the cemented top and braced myself as the man thrust upward quickly to bury himself deep within me.

Thank god his hand was over my mouth otherwise I would have cried out. Or even screamed bloody murder. All I could do was squeeze my eyes shut and take it.

"Goddamn baby, you've got a great pussy," he growled before pulling out.

He rammed back into me and this time, pleasure exploded from behind my closed eyelids. I saw stars and fireworks and whatever else you see when intense desire erupts within your body. I cried out from behind his hand on my mouth and felt his groan of approval.

He did this multiple times: pulling out and slamming back in. So slowly. Oh, so slow. It felt great and I didn't know what I wanted at this point.

His cock pulsed the deeper it went and he picked up his speed, his fingers digging further into my hip. I should stop this; I should bite his hand and scream at the top of my lungs but this...felt...aaaaaahmazing. It was like my body wanted this, wanted him inside me even though he was someone I didn't know nor could I know.

God, this was all so new to me. I would never have in a million years fucked a complete stranger but for him, I'd do anything.

I opened my eyes and brought my free hand up to his hand that covered my mouth and pressed my nails into his glove. We locked eyes in my window at that moment and I could sense his smile behind that mask as his eyes crinkled. He hissed behind me when I know they poked through as he thrust hard into me. "Shit, I knew you'd like a little pain while you fuck," he muttered and lifted his mask partially with the hand that was on my hip, still managing to keep up his rhythm of quick and jack-rabbit like thrusts.

This dude was destined and determined to keep my mouth shut.

He lifted my sweatshirt to expose the back of my neck. I was confused, trying to figure out what he was doing when he brought his lips to the space between my neck and shoulder. I could feel his warm breath cascading over my skin and, when he kissed it, his lips were amazingly soft. Gentle and soothing...until he opened his mouth and bit me.

He sank his teeth into my flesh, probably enough to cause bleeding. I gasped at the sudden pain that coursed through my veins.

Sure, I'd been slapped on the ass during sex but never have I been bitten! It hurt but it also felt strangely good. There was something erotic and primal about the way his teeth dug in, his tongue resting against my shoulder. He was sucking roughly and I'm sure there'd be a hickey tomorrow.

Jesus, I didn't even care. I just didn't want this to end. Ever.

The sound of his thighs slapping against my naked bottom resounded throughout my apartment, mixing with the music of The Doors and I moaned behind his hand. I hadn't had a real orgasm in nearly eight months with a cock so I knew the budding pleasure would be fantastic when it hit me...if only he would let me.

Maybe he was one of those that came quickly, not allowing me to finish at all. I mean, the majority of my past sex partners had been like that so, who knew. I rarely got off during sex and here, I could feel an orgasm rapidly approaching starting in my toes.

If only I could scream to let out this immense pleasure that was surging through me with each thrust. His balls were slapping against my underside, hitting my clit. I bit my lip behind his hand and let out a guttural groan. I loved it when men did that; when they were fucking me so hard, their balls hit my little bundle of nerves just right.

I was on the edge and I was about to tip over. The precipice was right there.

The bite, his hand over my moth, his cock inside of me, an orgasm was quickly building. This was all so dark and rough. So strange and new; so bad and thrilling. I never wanted this to end. I never wanted him stop thrusting into me, never wanted him to stop biting my shoulder.

His pace quickened slightly and, to ease the pressure that was now aching in my center, I brought a hand down to rub vigorously at my clit. Combine that with his cock curving to hit that perfect spot, I knew I was close. My hand was shaking and so were my legs. I was moaning heavily behind his hand, breathing hard through my nose over his glove. God, I was so close.

"Come for me, darlin', come for me," he breathed in my ear once his released his hold on my shoulder with his mouth. He used his tongue to dip deeply in my ear canal and I groaned harshly. I moved my fingers faster and faster until-

I let out a squeal that was muffled and strangled as the orgasm overtook me. My body shuddered violently, my legs quivering from the intensity of what he'd done. The man behind me used his knees to prop me up the moment my knees gave out from the orgasm and he held me up as he continued to fuck me.

I was panting and sweating and shaking so hard, I felt like my sugar had dropped. You know those astonishing orgasms you get where it feels like your blood goes cold and hot all at the same time? Yeah, that was me right now. I was on a high, on Cloud Nine as the waves of the orgasm washed over me, beginning in my center to spread out through my extremities.

My toes throbbed and fingers ached; my joints creaked and my neck hurt from the pressure buildup it took to release this powerful force. I had come so hard, I felt my insides quiver and knew this was probably the best orgasm I'd ever received. No one had ever made me come like that and I'm surprised I didn't squirt.

"Jesus baby," the man whispered into my ear. "I'm gonna come in you and I want you to take it," he hissed and bit my earlobe, pulling it out forcefully to suckle on it rather severely. Thankfully I didn't have any earrings in them.

With one, two, three more long and slow thrusts, I felt his cock jerk violently before spurts of hot sperm met against my womb. I swear he tapped it with how deep he was able to get.

His pelvic was to my ass as his body pushed out his orgasm, his skin speckled with goosebumps. For some reason, I felt that feminine pride welling up in my heart knowing I'd caused him to have this wonderful orgasm. But, did he feel the same way? I wasn't sure as he released my earlobe and softly kissed my cheek.

It was sweet yet...odd.

And then he licked my cheek before he let out a low chuckle. "'Til next time, sweetheart and remember, if you scream, I'll kill ya."

With that, he zipped himself up and was out of my apartment before I could even blink. I stood there, bare-assed and quivering from my still overpowering orgasm. I came so hard, I fell to my knees on my tile flooring and sucked in a raggedy breath. But I couldn't scream.

No one would believe me because, I didn't believe this myself.

What the fuck just happened?

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9 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 6 years ago
Love the back story and connection to your other stories!

Love the back story and love how many of your stories are interconnected. That got me to read your other stories, so I could learn more about the characters and how all these people fit together. The way you take the "bad guy," or in this case, the bad girl, from one story and flip it around and get us to empathize with her is talent.

I'm also hoping you write more parts to this, but like the other comment said, keep it rough like this one. It has an amazing flow from non consent to reluctant, and it finishes up with her finally satisfied and all of those imbalanced emotions and self-destructive urges are sated and quiet. At least, that's how I saw it.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 7 years ago
YES

Loved this! Maybe do a part 2 of his return, months down the line still thinking of him, just when she starts to think maybe he won't return... that sort of thing? Still rough as the first one tho please ;)

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 7 years ago
Best Story I Read All Week

I've had a fantasy like this ever since I was young, thank you for bringing it to the page.

Lee2012Lee2012almost 7 years ago
Notice how

the haters are "Anonymous"? They don't understand the idea that what initially started as rape (in most people's mind) could ultimately turn out to be a sneaky set of baby steps to submission to an otherwise erotic act.

They (Psychologists) say that a lot of women harbor a submissive side that borders on masochistic tendencies. And yes, so do men

Lee2012

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 7 years ago
why lol

Why do people not like the backstory lol? It was actually good.

I'd love to read more like this man! Maybe a sequel with explications as to who the guy was??

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