The Voice

"Youuuuu. Youuuu slllleeeeeep," the Paul-thing says to me, motioning to the bed in a terribly slow manner. Again it takes me a moment to understand it's saying, "you sleep."

I can't help but gulp again as my fear is starting to get the better of me. The way the thing moves and speaks is simply wrong. This may not make any sense, but it's what I think a wasp would look like if it tried to perform what it thought was a human movement.

"N-No thanks. I'm n-n-not tired. You go right ahead," I respond, but the Paul-thing doesn't move. Instead it keeps looking at me with those strange eyes. Those eyes are so strange because they look both dead and alive. Like if darkness could have thoughts and an attitude.

"Layyyyy dowwwwwwnnnnnn," the Paul-thing says and suddenly I feel lust coming from it. Not just normal lust, but sickening lust. Gross lust. I'm not sure how I can feel it, but I do.

I once remember when I was younger and I was at the public library. I had to use a computer to look something up. When I sat there, there was a very obese older man next to me. I remember the way he ogled his computer screen, making short, excited noises as he leaned in at it. I remember that gross feeling of lust coming off of him too because it made me turn and look at his screen. When I did, I remember wanting to throw up, as it wasn't just porn he was looking at, but gross porn. Where the women were vomiting while trying to have intercourse. That's the exact feeling the Paul-thing gives off.

I understand it wants me to "lay down," but that's not what it really means. I'm not sure if it can't say the right words or if it says it like that in an effort to not freak me out, but what it really wants is sex. It doesn't mean sleep at all. It wants sex.

"N-N-N-No....thank you P-Paul. I...I need...I need to go to w-w-w-work in a bit," I tell the Paul-thing, having no clue what else to say. My mind draws a blank on what else to tell the thing. Actually, the only other idea I have is too crazy to consider as I flirt with saying that Paul and I normally pray although out the day so it's time for a prayer in hopes of chasing it off. But that idea would no doubt piss it off.

"Nooooo. Iffff youuuu leavveeee, yoouuuu cannnnn't layyyy dowwwwnnnnn," the Paul-thing states, motioning to the bed again. It takes me longer this time to figure what it says, but it sounds like, "if you leave you can't lay down."

Suddenly the Paul-thing jerks up straight and gets a wild look on his face. It's body jerks hard and in an inhuman manner it gets a look of intense hate on it's face. For a moment it stays like that, no longer even looking at me, but just...existing.

From it's expression, it looks like someone just knifed it in the back. It's a look of shock and anger, at least it would be on Paul's face. On this...thing's face...I'm not sure what it could mean.

Without saying anything more, the Paul-thing starts to walk. When it does, I back up to the wall, scared it's finally coming for me. But it doesn't walk towards me or my side of the room. Instead it walks into the bathroom like it normally does. It doesn't even look at me any longer, but looks ahead when it walks as if it's doing the normal of walking to the closet.

Leaning over the bed, I watch the Paul-thing walk into the bathroom, open Paul's closet's door and step inside, closing the door behind him. Staring at the door, I wait to see what more it's going to do as my heart pounds. I wait for it burst out and charge at me, or maybe for it to roar in a demonic howl or some other crazy thing.

"Rebecca?" Paul asks from the bedroom door. Screaming at the top of my lungs, I launch the alarm clock at him. I throw it as hard as I can right at him as I'm sure I'm dead. If not by a demon attack then by a heart attack.

"What the fuck?!" Paul cries out, trying to move into a ball before the clock hits him. It makes contact with his arm where he cries in pain from the blow. He even stumbles back, his left hand moving to rub where the clock hit as it bounces off.

"You fucking crazy?!" Paul shouts in anger. At this I break down sobbing and rush to him. I hug him with all my might, knowing that this is the real Paul. The flesh and blood Paul. The man I married.

"Oh Paul, thank you, thank you. It was here. It was here. It talked to me. Dear God, it talked to me. Wait, why are you here?" I ask, backing up to look at him with my tear-stained face. When I do, I know this is really the real Paul, as only Paul could look that stupid and confused at what's happening. He's clearly beyond confused by my reaction, proving that this is the man I married.

"I...that's a lot to take in," Paul states in an honest manner. So glad that it is the real him, I hug him again, thankful to feel his warm and real body. I've never felt safer in my life.

"You weren't responding to my texts. You always respond to my texts, so I got worried. Then you didn't pick up when I called. I knew a lot of crazy stuff had been happening so I wanted to check on you," Paul explains. To this I keep hugging him tight.

"You...I think you chased it away. It was just here," I tell him as I finally let go of him. I go on to explain exactly what happened, from Michelle visiting, the voice calling from upstairs, the figure in the living room and the Paul-thing talking to me.

Paul reacted like I knew he would. He first went to his closet and searched it. When he found nothing he then went to check the cameras from the security system. There he found when Michelle showed up the first time and started to watch.

The security system is in the utility room, if you can call it a security system. It's really just a computer with a single monitor, but you are able to watch footage from any camera that's in or out of the house. The screen normally rotates the various cameras, but once you go into the program you can look at whatever cameras at whatever time.

Paul sits down at the station as a man on a mission. If there's finally concrete proof for him to see, he knows he can finally try to figure out what's going on. So he sits there and begins to watch all that happened from the moment Michelle showed up.

Feeling so much better, I sit in the chair that's in the other corner in the utility room. It's an amazingly comfortable Lazy-Boy type chair that I had Paul put here. Our dryer is on it's last legs and often starts to shake really violently. Since we don't have a lot of money to replace it due to moving, someone has to stay close by when it's running in case you need to stop it before it does some damage. I had Paul put this chair here for that reason. And, if I'm being honest, I like the chair here so I can take naps especially as I wait for the dryer to finish, knowing it'll wake it up if there's any issue.

As I sit in the chair, I feel so very drained. I know it's from the adrenaline leaving my system. All the craziness of earlier must have flooded my body with adrenaline, and now that I'm safe, it's crashing. Knowing Paul will wake me if he finds anything, I close my eyes to rest just for a moment.

From the darkness of sleep, I feel...good. Better than good. As my mind comes towards consciousness like a diver rising back to the surface of the ocean, I realize that I'm cumming. I'm having an orgasm.

My eyes open as I hear moans coming out of my mouth. Waves of powerful pleasure move over my body, causing me to squirm as it is so intense. My eyes widen so very wide as the waves ripple over me, causing me to make high pitched feminine moans that echo around the utility room.

Confused yet in beautiful bliss, I barely recognize that I'm no longer sitting in the chair, but bent over it. I'm to the side of it, bent over the two armrests all the way. More than that, I think I'm naked. Glancing down I see that I'm not, but my clothes have been torn. My shirt is ripped all the way down the front so my bare breasts hang off the side of the chair. My pants are yanked down to just below my knees, trapping my legs together and I think my panties where ripped off.

I find that both of my arms are behind my back, being held together at the wrist. I attempt to pull them around to get more comfortable, but they are held in place by a powerfully strong grip. Despite how hard I pull, I can't break them free, but this could be due to me not having my full strength as the orgasm takes over all of my functions.

Now I feel what Paul is doing and it shocks me. He's bent me over this chair, where my hips press against one arm rest, and my breasts are just above the other. There he's fucking me from behind, HARD. Over and over he rams into me as he pins me, his cock going hard and deep inside my womanhood. Each time he thrusts, I feel the way it pushes my womanhood apart with a feeling of hate and domination, making me feel sexual arousal I've never felt before with Paul.

Like an animal he fucks me, the poor chair feeling like it's about to break at any moment. The force that he uses rocks my body and makes my breasts swing wildly where they crash into the side of the chair repeatedly. Most of all, I cum harder than I ever have. It feels primal the way it feels, where I feel like I want to fall into the feeling of my orgasm instead of just experiencing it.

As my orgasm starts to fade, I become more aware of this strange situation. Paul must have grabbed me as I was sleeping and bent me over the chair. That's not like him at all. Never has he done anything sexual when I've been asleep. He always wakes me up before he starts, making sure that I'm on board before he starts.

"Oh gosh Paul," I say as my orgasm completely fades. Still tingly from it, I do notice how sore I feel, and not just on my body from being pinned to the chair. My womanhood feels sore, like he's been going for a while. Not to mention how my back aches from him pressing down on it.

My eyes then widen again as I feel something else that's rather shocking...he's already cummed. I feel his seed inside me, the warmth still in my womanhood, making me think he came just moments before I woke up. This is also shocking as this is one of the rare times he's cummed inside of me, knowing what it could bring.

Paul says nothing to me, but grunts in a fierce animalistic manner with each thrust. He seems to get even rougher as he goes, as if trying to make his member impale me or something. It's a roughness that I didn't think he was even capable of to be honest. Our normal sex has him not going this long or fast.

"P-P-Paul?" I stammer out, my entire body rocking as he keeps fucking me. I close my eyes now, feeling another orgasm quickly building from within me. It's so damn strange to feel as I didn't know my body would respond so intensely from being fucked this hard.

Then again, is it really a surprise? It's been a while since Paul and I have done it. Sure, he's been horny all the time, but I've never wanted to do it. Like I mentioned before, being scared for your life sort of sucks the mood to have sex out of you. I guess now that he's decided he couldn't wait any longer.

Not that I mind. This oddly feels like the right thing to do. Like my body has been worn down by all the happenings here and needed to be used like this in my weakened state to make me right again. That afterwards I'll feel like myself again.

"P-Paul?" I call to him, feeling him cum inside me. I feel him explode, shooting his seed deep inside me, only he doesn't stop. He keeps on thrusting just as hard, making it feel like he doesn't even know he's cummed.

Knowing something is wrong as Paul can barely make it to one orgasm, I turn my head to try and look at him. His hand still holds my wrists and presses on my back, pinning me down hard. This makes it so I can't look behind him as my head hands off the side of the chair. To look back makes me only see the chair's armrest.

Frantic, I try to look at the mirror that's on the wall. I think Paul senses what I'm trying to do because he suddenly grabs the back of my hair with his other hand, yanking it back. With painful force he yanks me up by my hair, my head and upper body forced to rise. Doing this forces me to only look forward as he holds my head in place. Being held like this makes my breasts bounce wildly as he fucks me silly. He's gotten so rough that I hear the clapping of my own tits as they bounce so damn hard.

"Paul!" I yell right before my orgasm runs over me. It hits hard, making my eyes flutter as the overwhelming feeling takes hold. The waves of pleasure move over me, preventing me from even thinking for a moment. For a brief moment all I can see is white before coming back to my normal vision.

With my head forced back, I can't see the mirror, but I can see the security system screen. The screen that shows a variety of the camera screens. As I cum, my eyes look directly at the screen, waiting for it to rotate and show me the camera for the utility room.

Moaning like a whore and unable to stop myself, I finally understand what the voice wanted. Feeling captured and helpless, I know there's nothing I can do now. The voice is getting exactly what it wants. It set a trap and I fell into it as there's no way possible for me to overpower Paul.

On the camera for the utility room, I see myself being fucked like a whore. Where the huge hulking figure holds me over the chair and fucks me rough enough to break me. It's a screen that wouldn't look out of place in some porno.

But instead of seeing my husband Paul behind me, I see something else. Sure, it looks like Paul, and is probably Paul's body, but it's not Paul. I know because where it would normally show Paul's body, it shows a blurred, pixelated mess that goes all the way from the floor to the ceiling.

As I begin to believe I'm going to pass out from how intense this is, I understand that the voice wasn't just after me. It was after Paul. It needed him. It needed to wear me down but overtake him completely.

Now, whatever evil it is, it has what it wants, which is my womb.