Straponween

The large strap-on pushes forward and Fanny's screams become groans as it parts her pussy lips and rams into her with a fast and steady motion.

Michelle Miller's face betrays no emotions, no lust nor hate, no pleasure nor pity as she penetrates the teen she has seen this morning for the fist time. But her steady motions and determined, tireless fucking soon have a clear effect on the girl. Her body, ready for a night of adventuress with a boy, opens up willingly now to the intruder, her pussy gets wet, lust radiating from her crotch all through her body and brains, and Fanny cannot help but surrender to it and her lust.

Her muffled screams turn into moans, gasps, then screams again, but in a very different tone as her assailant continues to part her lips and penetrate her tight cunt, her black eyes staring into the girl's blue ones without emotions. A wave crashes over the teenager and she orgasms, hard, wet, loud, a bigger orgasm than any she ever had in her life and she has had a few.

Far from finished, the raw energy of the female attacker, untouched by any kind of emotion drives the cock into the again and again, pushing Fanny over the edge again before she has had a chance to recover, pushing her into a second orgasm, and a third. A chain of multiple climaxes now make the girl tremble, quiver, shake, whimper, her horse voice screaming into Miller's hand. She bucks, and thrashes in the rear seat of her parents' car, her vision becomes blurry, pulsating red with every orgasm, and eventually she grunts, dropping like a sack of flour into the seat.

Michelle Miller stoically looks down at her victim for an few moments, then pulls out of her.

Her pulse hasn't gone above 90 at any movement, her pussy is dry as a desert. Fucking the teenager into a coma was nothing emotional, nothing special to her, just her true self taking care of a mission, emotionless, merciless, inevitable.

She gets out of the car and the garage, walking to her next target. On her way, she passes a group of vagrant teenagers, complimenting the stranger on her Michelle Miller costume - the family fucker of ten years ago has gained enough notoriety in this small town to be a popular Halloween costume, if rarely ever fully naked, but quite few teens sport the notorious strap-on. These ones do not know how lucky they are. The one true Michelle Miller ignores them instead of grabbing them, dragging them into an ally and showing them what she can do. But she has other targets on her mind.

Few minutes later, she arrives at BJ's house. It is decorated for the holiday with garlands, and plastic skeletons, a large bowl of candy with a sign stuck to it.

"We're busy, suit yourselves"

She tries the door handle but the door is locked so she walks around the house, slowly, patiently. At the back she finds what she needs - a glass patio back door.

That makes surprisingly little noise when her bare fist punches through it, reaches in and opens it. In a night like Halloween, it'll take a lot more to arouse neighbours. And the sole inhabitant and his - guest are too busy on the upper floor to hear.

The home intruder reaches through the hole in the the broken glass - her hand uninjured, seemingly by sheer power of will or maybe just due to the speed she smashed in the glass. Or sheer luck of the vicious.

The door opens and she steps in, not caring about the shards of glass. These Do leave cuts on her soles -- merciless force of sexuality or not, invulnerable she isn't. But she cares not for them, walking on unperturbed.

BJ has made his promise come true: when the first adult trick or treater -- an 18 year old boy from his high school BJ has had an eye on or while -- showed up on his door, he has pulled him into his house and introduced himself by pushing him to the couch for the first blowjob of the boy's life, effectively turning him bi in a second..

Then up to BJ's bedroom, where he has spent about half an hour teaching the boy about male sexuality until ...

With an unmoving face, the home invader turns her head to look to the stairs as she hears the steps of naked feet.

"Bring me a beer"

She hears the voice she identifies as BJ, as his lover walks into the kitchen naked, his limp cock flopping in front of his quite muscular body.

The light is dim and moody, he tries to find the light switch but can't, does not bother and turns to the fridge in the dim light of the moon and street lights shining in through the window and a single lit pumpkin in the window. From outside, the noises of children in a sugar-rush float in, the buzzing of the fridge; all else is silent. The dildoed figure lurking in the shadows on the far end of the kitchen does not make a noise and melts into the dark background too well to be seen.

He opens the door and bluish light bathes his naked body, throwing his shadow to the kitchen wall. He shoves a slice of cheese into his mouth and chews it, then grabs two cans of beer, opens one and takes a sip. Just when he closes the fridge door, a cold, small hand falls over his mouth, making him choke on the beer he still has in his mouth, then he drops the metal cans, the open one spilling its content all over the floor. The smell of beer wafts through the kitchen as the athletic boy is pressed against the fridge, his glasses smash against the white metal door and drop to the floor.

His assailant is more than a head smaller than him, probably weighs little more than half his weight. Yet his struggles are in vain. Something inside her - determination, will, the pure force of sexual energy -- is giving her strength way beyond her physical form. Her body presses his against the cold surface, her hand gagging his scream to a muffled moan when he feels the hard rod against the firm cheeks of his ass and although his screams get louder, his struggle harder, he is without a chance.

The strap-on of his attacker finds its target, parts his firm ass cheeks, and mercilessly penetrates his tight asshole. It is still slightly gaping form BJ's cock -- the boy has learned a lot about taking cock tonight - but it still almost as tight as it was before. But he has become a good little bottom - the dildo easily and without resistance slides into he male's tight rectum.

The boy struggles cease quickly, his body, still drenched in hormones from his joust with BJ, takes over with a vengeance and his mind, resisting against the forceful intrusion, is overcome with the lust the huge dildo in his rectum sends through him. His moans turn into grunts, still muffled by his assailant's hand, his dick rises like flagpole, pre-cum glistening on the top of its head.

The strange mixture of cruel emotionless and raw sexual energy emanating from the woman seems to crush his will, and the violated boy feels his body contorting. Unable to stop himself, he squirts a stream of thin liquid from his hard cock. With it not being a full on ejaculation, his cock remains hard as the penetration continues mercilessly, calmly. In unaltering, steady motions, the large dildo fucks the helpless teen's ass, rubbing against his prostrate inside of him, sending another wave of heat and lust through his exhausted body, making him squirt stream after stream of thin cum against the surface of the fridge, where it trickles down to the floor.

His groans become weaker, his struggle more desperate. His body is beginning to shut off after 15 minutes of relentless fucking, orgasm following orgasm in a way the male body is not made for. His knees turn weak, his voice breaks and with another last squirt of thin cum against the white surface, the 18 year old faints, sliding off of the cock in his ass, collapsing on the cold kitchen tiles. His assailant stands over him, no muscle moving to betray any emotion of pity or just interest on her face. She just looks to the stairs, turns to them and moves on to her next victim, stopping while passing the open door of the master bedroom.

BJ looks up from the cock in his hand, already semi erect again -- 18 year old that he is, he is always ready for more in no time

"Took you long enough, did you bring me my..."

He pauses, frowns and smirks at the figure in the door, completely covered in a white bedsheet.

"Totally cute."

He only hesitates for a second -- the boy has seemed taller when they shared the bed -- but he wears the glasses -- over the sheet and around the middle of his body a massive tent is pitch in the bedsheet. Clearly his boy, ready for round two. He must have seemed taller when he was horny.

"Did you bring me my beer, you sexy little ghost?"

The figure remains still as a statue, only its breath audible. BJ's frown becomes frustrated.

"Come on, move your ass over here, forget about the beer. Even though it's totally fucked up you didn't bring me one."

No movement from the ghost like figure. BJ sighs.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Getting second thoughts? Your cock doesn't!"

He pats the mattress next to him. No reaction.

"Alright, whatever. Jerk. You can go jerk yourself off if you're acting like that."

Picking his phone from the night-stand, he taps Corey's number.

On the other end of the line, Corey wakes up from the sound of the phone next to him on the couch. He has a bucket of popcorn on his lap, the TV plays one of those silly horror flicks about the guy chasing teenagers with his knife while wearing a Space Trip mask. Right? Something like that. Not even the first one, one of the endless sequels. Or a reboot, he's not sure. He hasn't made the effort to search for a movie, it's one of the rare occasions he actually just relies on his parents' regular old linear cable TV, there's enough mindless horror trash movies running anyway.

He blinks at the phone and BJ's name on the display. Picks it up.

"Shouldn't you be busy banging some hot chick or dude? Or are you finished with that, already?"

He waits for a response that doesn't come. All that comes is a gurgling, choking, wet, sloppy sound.

"BJ?"

Heavy breathing and a rasping voice.

"Ha ha, very funny. If you're doing prank calls, you should suppress your caller ID, buddy."

On the other end of the line, BJ is now struggling to breath for real. Michelle Miller has climbed onto his bed in an instant and as soon as he took is phone, grabbed his full head of hair.

BJ drops the phone to is mattress tries to struggle but like the boy now lying unconscious in the kitchen, is powerless against the assailant's raw energy

She is still wearing her sheet and BJ has no way of knowing what is going on. All he knows it that a huge rubber dildo is forced into his throat, gagging him, choking him.

He is used to large cock in his mouth, but the force and relentlessness this rod fucks him with stuns him.

Like a rag doll, he is being thrown to the bed suddenly, his belly pressed into the mattress, the rubber cock pushes against his ass. He can't move, can't breath, can't even think. His vision blurs, his mind goes blank. He doesn't faint -- not yet, but he is numb enough not to be able to call out to Corey on the phone when the strap-on cock brutally parts his ass cheeks. The face fuck was only serving to warm him up. The strap on assailants real attack is just about to begin.

BJ's ass spreads easily, well used to being penetrated. The intruder's huge rubber cock is not the biggest thing it has ever taken, even though it is close. It slides into the teenager's rectum smoothly, as she grabs his hips and pins him to the bed with her body weight. Which should not be enough, but is -- his weakened struggles are in vain, and soon end as his body is overtaken by lust, being fucked in the ass by the unknown intruder, still wearing her ghost sheet.

His cock hardens and rubs against the mattress, every stroke into his firm ass rousing him, sending waves of bliss through him and soon he comes with a groan and a scream, muffled by the pillow under his face, and he ejaculates a load of thin cum onto his sheets.

Like before, the intruder doesn't stop, keeps pounding into her victim, ramming him into the soft bed, spearing his asshole with her large cock, stimulating his body into heights unknown even to the experienced sodomite. He comes for a second, a third time, his grunts getting and more more excited his cock never seizing to stay erect.

By now, Corey on the other end of the phone has been overcome by worries.

"Alright asshole, you got me. I'm coming over. But if you're not having a stroke or heart attack or something and this is a stupid prank I'm gonna fuck your ass!"

BJ doesn't hear his friend's voice any more, doesn't perceive anything but the huge cock inside of him mercilessly fucking him from one orgasm to the next. It will only take his friend minuets to get here, but those are enough for Michelle Miller. With increasing speed and vigour, she fucks the teenager into the next orgasm, his eyes roll back into his skull and he faints from more bliss than his body is able to bear and pure exhaustion.

The door, to his surprise, does not creak ominously as Corey pushes it open... he is not very surprised to find it unlocked. It's not that the neighbours tend to be as careless, usually, especially not on a night of pranking kids and teens like Halloween. ESPECIALLY not since the strap-on massacre ten years, ago. But BJ's parents aren't home and his best friend has a tendency to be careless. Particularly in the woes of lust and he had made no secret about intending to dive into those tonight.

"Hello?"

The house is quite. Too quiet, he knows the boy well and whoever he picked as his plaything for the evening shouldn't get much rest. And BJ is a loud lover. Not that Corey ever got a taste of it. Only got to listen during that one sleepover...

"BJ? I'm telling you if you're fucking with me, I'm gonna make you regret it!"

He flips the light-switch -- without a result, and frowns. Blown out fuses somehow seem unlikely as a coincidence. More indications of a stupid prank. Pulling out his phone to illuminate his way, Corey slowly walks through the living room -- he knows his best friend's house well, stayed here often enough for sleepovers. He slowly walks the steps and up to the first floor, making the stairs creak with his footsteps. Finally an ominous sound, he thinks to himself, appropriate enough for the occasion.

As he moves towards his friend's door, he sees a flickering orange light through the crack. Right... there should have been pumpkins in the windows, BJ's parents always make sure to decorate. Where were they? Slowly he pushes the door open - and freezes.

On the bed, framed by two large illuminated jack-o'-lanterns, lies BJ, his body limp and lifeless. Naked, in a wet puddle that Corey cannot help identify as cum.

With a gasp he takes a step back, bumping against the door of his friend's closet. He lets out a shriek, turns around and as he stands back from the door it opens with a creak, revealing inside another male body, just as naked, just as limp. With another shriek, Corey stumbles backwards against the bed and falls onto it, struggling to get up again.

He bends over the chest of the teenager on the bed, hears his breath, regular if a bit shallow and gasps relieved. Despite not knowing the boy in the closet, he checks his breath too. Strong, with a steady pulse.

"What the fuck..."

He walks to the door, his phone in hand to light the way. He isn't even sure what he is looking for, but he finds it. He hasn't gotten to take a step out of his friend's room when he bumps into her

He freezes for second -- the sight is bizarre -- but he isn't too worried -- she is smaller than him, an that means something - he is not the tallest, most of his female classmates tower over him. With her being naked and wearing that large strap on dildo, she is more a bizarre appearance than a threatening one. Until he looks into her eyes. Deep black, so black he could sink into them. Must be an optical illusion he decides, it is dark here after all. Her face is void of all expression and she does not say a word

What is going on? Is she one of BJ's playmates? But why doesn't she... Of all that goes through his head in fraction of a second, nothing it leaves his mouth, for her arm shoots forward and grabs his throat.

Corey eyes open wide, the woman's fingers feel like an vice around his neck -- he's not an athlete, but it seems impossible that such a small petite woman would be able to...

His hands clasp around her wrists, futilely, or rather her wrist, she can even take one hand off of him and hold him with just one without running the danger that he would be able to free himself. Looking into his eyes she seems to judge him, evaluate him, stare into his soul, before she drags him to the living room and tosses him onto the couch like a throw-pillow.

One hand firmly on his chest, pressing him into the couch, the woman has no problem to pull down his jeans and underpants, tearing off the button in the process, ripping some seams of the strong denim.

By now it is obvious what she intends to do with him. Has done to BJ and his conquest, but there is literally nothing Corey could do about it. He turns his head to the side as she moves upward facing him looking into his eyes with her deep black pupils. He feels his cocks stir against his will as her rubber rod touches his ass cheeks. She pulls him closer to her, pushing up his hips. And places her cock to his sphincter, ready to tear him....

"No please... I've never... I don't want my first time to be like this..."

His assailant freezes, stares down on the teenage boy. Her eyes are no less cold, no more emotional, but her stance has shifted. The tension has left her body slightly. He is aware she could still throw him through the room, but she changes position, takes some weight off of is chest. He still has no chance to stop Anything she intends to do to him, but he feels less threatened, nonetheless.

She reaches down to his semi erect dick - not particularly impressive, but bigger than her brother's has been and begins to stroke it. Not exactly gently, there is no emotion in her touch, but it is soft, careful not to hurt him.

Corey has no illusion that she cares as little about his comfort as if she had continued with her plan to use her strap-on on him, but for some reason, now that she focuses all her attention on his cock, she seems willing to make it pleasurable for him.

It is still very clear by the hand of hers on his chest and her general demeanour that she will get what she wants from him -- resistance would be utterly futile - but now she's coaxing him to giving to her what she'll take anyway.

And it works. Corey feels her stroking bring the blood to his dick, making it swell hard and pulsate. No other person ever touched his dick before and it likes it. A lot. He stops his last bit of resistance and sinks into the couch, letting her touch his boner, stroke it, massage it.

Kiss it.

He gasps as she puts her lips around his balls and licks her tongue over it. She has never done this before, her only ever sexual experiences with males is taking their asses, but she is a creature of pure instinct pure sexuality.

It only takes a very short time -- not even a minute before Corey groans and shoots his load into the mouth sucking him hard and franticly. He may be bigger than her brother, but he doesn't last longer. There is no emotion in this act, but the pure physical sexuality of his assailant does it's job.

She does not stop sucking him, his cock not getting a chance to go flaccid again. Young and eager as he is, his stamina may not be best, but his physical condition is in peak form. His cock stirs, ready for more. And gets it.

The assailant moves up - with the rubber cock still strapped around her hips, she now lowers herself down onto the teenager's hard cock. The leather straps of the strap-on next to her pussy give way, as do her lips, parting for the boy's cock. She is not wet - her body is not aroused by anything she does, but it knows what to do anyway, instinctively. Her black eyes still look down on her victim, coldly, expressionlessly, but he has no time to be afraid anymore as her pussy grabs his rod and massages it, kneads it, clenches tightly around it.