Roberta's Buggering Ch. 01

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Escaped convict ravishes an older woman.
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Bending over, Roberta fastened the garter belt to the nylons, readjusted her breasts back into the half-cut underwire bra, then shook her head. She was 56 years old, too old in her mind to be dressing up like this. Still, it was her husband's birthday and he got a charge out of seeing her this way. She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. Though she'd put an extra 50lbs on her 5'6" frame since marriage, she still could be appealing. She smiled slightly and turned sideways to admire her own body, attired in nothing but nylons held up by a red garter belt, tight white nylon panties whose tightness accentuated the bubble shape of her expanded bottom, and an underwire bra which had difficulty in containing her 50+ inch bosom. Her breasts, which had been a "DD" cup when they married, were now barely contained by a double-'F' cup bra. Red high heeled shoes completed the outfit: her "gift" to her husband on his birthday. Suddenly she paused.

"Frank," she whispered. "I hear something."

"It's nothing," he groaned. "These old summer houses are constantly creaking and making all sorts of noises."

"I tell you I heard footsteps, downstairs," she insisted.

"And I tell you it's nothing. It's just your imagination."

"Frank Mathews," Roberta huffed. "In the 38 years we've been married, have I ever sent you on a wild goose chase, chasing imaginary sounds in the middle of the night?"

Slowly shaking his head, Frank threw back the blankets and climbed out of bed. As he continued shaking his head, he put on his robe, walked across the bedroom, and out the door. Roberta listened intently. Suddenly, she heard a loud crash. Roberta threw on her nightgown and hurried to the bedroom door. Frank was sprawled on the floor at the bottom of the stairway. It looked as if he had stumbled in the dark and fallen down the last few steps.

"Oh my God," she cried, rushing down the stairs.

She had just reached the landing when she saw a shadowy figure moving toward the bottom of the stairway. Panic stricken, she turned around and scrambled back up the steps. Instinctively, she ran to the phone. But, as she picked up the receiver, she remembered that the phones hadn't been connected yet. Frantically searching for something to defend herself with, she saw the shadowy figure step into the doorway.

":Stay away from me," she said, her voice shaking with fear.

Laughing, the man switched on the light. He looked to be about 30 years old, with a muscular built, and dark chiseled features. His icy blue eyes looked Roberta up and down, and he laughed, again.

"What are you going to do, scream? We're so far out in the sticks, no one would hear something even as loud as a gunshot," he said, pulling a pistol from his jacket pocket.

"I know you," Roberta said in astonishment. "You're Harry Cleeves. The one the police are looking for."

"That's right," he nodded. "And, you probably also know that I have already killed three people. So, if you don't want to be number four, you better behave."

Slowly, Roberta began to raise her hands. Harry laughed.

"There's no need for that," he said. "I'm sure you don't have a gun hidden in your nightie. If you did, you wouldn't have been running for the phone."

Clutching the opening to the top of her nightgown, Roberta asked, "What do you want?"

"Food," Harry said, motioning with the gun. "You're coming downstairs with me, and tying up the old man. Then you're going to fix me something to eat."

Once Frank was securely bound and gagged in the den, Harry followed Roberta into the kitchen area. As she prepared his meal, he grinned and slowly looked her up and down. Roberta pretended not to notice, but she had the uneasy feeling that he was undressing her with his eyes.

"Are those your?" he asked, pointing to Roberta's tennis trophies.

Nervously, she nodded her head. Harry smiled and moved closer. Picking up the plate of sandwiches, he said, "I guess that's why you don't look too bad for an old girl."

Something about Harry's smile unnerved Roberta. She tried to back away, but he had her cornered between the kitchen counters.

"Maybe when I get done eating, you and I can go back upstairs and get to know one another better," he said, suddenly reaching out and squeezing Roberta's crotch through the front of her nightgown. "You know what I mean?"

Roberta was too terrified to move. She just stood there, allowing him to fondle her.

"Oh, dear God no," she cried, covering her face with her hands. "Please don't. Take anything else you want and go. PLEASE."

"Oh, I'm going to take what I want. But, I am also going to give you something in return---a couple loads of cum," he chuckled. "Now, give me a peek at what you've got. Take your robe off."

Releasing her, Harry sat down at the small table at the other end of the kitchen and began nonchalantly eating. Roberta considered making a run for it. But, where would she go? The table sat directly in front of the open end of the narrow kitchen nook. Her only route-other than climbing over the bar-was blocked. Moving to the opposite corner of the closed end of the nook, she clutched the top of her nightgown.

Between bites of his sandwich, Harry smiled at Roberta.

"I asked you to remove your robe, lover," he said in a pseudo-romantic voice. "Do you want me to remove it for you?"

Roberta moved back to where she had been. She felt like a caged animal.

"If you want to play 'hard-to-get', it's okay with me," Harry said, placing his half eaten sandwich on the plate. "The robe is coming off. If I have to rough you up a little, that's okay too."

Roberta stalled as long as she dared. Then, opening her nightgown, she pulled it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

"Very nice," Harry grinned, "I was going to make you strip all the way down. Now, I think I'll let you keep that cute little outfit on. Your marriage must still have a little spark in it. Am I going to get the old boy's sloppy seconds?"

As tears welled up in Roberta's eyes, Harry picked up his sandwich and continued eating. With his index finger, he motioned for her to come closer.

Taking short, halting steps, Roberta slowly closed the distance between them. When she was close enough, Harry slid his hand up one nylon covered leg, and gently stroked the front of her panties with the back of his finger.

"Did you get fucking tonight?" he asked, letting the irritation he felt, due to her previous lack of response, show in his voice.

Harry's touch caused Roberta to gasp. She still didn't want to answer, but was too scared to refuse. Sniffling, she shook her head and said, "No."

Harry withdrew his hand, and gulped down the last of his sandwich. Standing up, he took Roberta by the hand and said, "Okay, lover, let's go."

Roberta pulled her hand free, and backed away.

"Please, not upstairs," she whimpered. ."the guest room?"

"You don't want me fucking you in the same bed your husband fucks you, huh?" he chuckled. "Okay, not upstairs." Now that the moment had come. Roberta was suddenly filled with a terrible dread and loathing. She backed further into the kitchen nook, away from her captor.

Harry laughed and followed her. Backing her into the corner of the counter and the bar, he shoved his hand into her crotch. As he firmly rubbed her pussy, he moved his mouth close to her ear.

"It's going to happen," he whispered. "I'm going to fuck you. You might as well get used to the idea. I know it, and you know it, don't you?"

Roberta's face twisted in anguish, and she nodded her head.

"Yes," she sniffled.

Harry kissed her tear-streaked face.

"Yes, what?" he asked, slipping a finger in through the leg hole of her panties, and sliding it slowly over her vulva, then back out.

"Yes, I know it," she blubbered.

She knew it wasn't what he wanted to hear. But she couldn't bring herself to say the 'f' word. Clenching her eyes shut, she braced herself for further coercing. Instead, Harry took her by the hand, laughed, and said, "You won't be so reserved once I get my dick in you. It'll do you some good to get fucked by a young stud like me. Now, shall we...?"

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Roberta nodded and allowed herself to be led from the kitchen. Instead of the guest bedroom, Harry took her into the laundry. The window over the washing machine had been jammed open, and a cloth bad of what she assumed were break-in tools sat on top of the dryer.

She wondered, why in here? But, she didn't want to ask. Bending her upper body over the top of the washer, she spread her legs. Now that she was resigned to her fare, she just wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

Harry laughed and began rummaging through the bag on the dryer.

"Not yet, lover," he said. "Turn around."

Reaching into the bag again, he took out a length of rope.

"Give me your hands," he said, making a loop at one end.

Roberta hesitated for a moment.

"Why? I'll cooperate," she said, hesitantly extending her arms.

"After our little 'squish-squish' session, I may want to take a nap," he said, trying her wrists together. "And, as tired as I am, I might fall asleep on top of you. So, I'm going to tie you up before the fun part starts."

Then, using the rope binding her writs, Harry pulled her closer. With a smile, he lowered his face to Roberta's big, bra-covered breasts and gently sucked on each of her nipples in turn, causing them to stiffen.

"Besides, I have a big dick," he grinned, sliding his hands around her panties and fondling her big buttocks. "You might get hard to handle when I start pushing it into your tight little asshole."

Roberta gasped, and instinctively clenched her buttocks.

"Oh God! Please don't," she whimpered. ."not that way. ..not there."

Harry pulled her close and kissed her. Reluctantly, Roberta parted her lips, allowing his probing tongue to invade her mouth. She didn't want to anger him. In hopes that he would have pity on her, and not force her to engage in anal sex, she returned his kiss with as much false passion as she could muster.

Pulling his mouth from hers, Harry asked, "Do you swallow?"

His question made her blush. Then, with a quick nod of her head, she gave him her best forced smile.

Harry continued to kneed Roberta's buttocks.

"Two out of three ain't bad," he grinned. "I hope you suck cock as good as you kiss."

He pressed his lips to her again. As his tongue slid into her mouth, Roberta slowly moved her tongue in and out, sucking gently, twirling the tip of her tongue around the tip of his. She felt vulgar and cheap. She didn't know if demonstrating her oral technique would help, but she was determined to try her best to avoid having her rectum raped.

"Is your butt cherry?" Harry asked, pulling free.

His question terrified her. Again she instinctively clenched her big butt-cheeks. She couldn't risk angering him by not answering. Her mind raced. If she lied, and said that it wasn't, he might decide she was simply playing "hard-to-get" and wouldn't hesitate to rape her rectum. But, if she told the truth, it might excite him! The phony smile faded from her face, and she slowly nodded her head.

Harry grinned and kissed her. This time, rather than accepting his tongue into her mouth, Roberta became more aggressive, pushing her tongue into his mouth. Pressing her body firmly against his, she started making soft moaning sounds.

As their mouths separated, Roberta whispered, "I'll give the best blowjob you've ever had if you promise not to..."

"It's going to happen," Harry interrupted, slipping his fingers under the waistband of her panties and into the cleft of her buttocks. "I'm going to buttfuck you." Feeling both hands inside her panties, Roberta squirmed, her buttocks desperately clenching. Harry laughed, then grabbed a cheek in each hand and pried them apart despite her struggles. Thoroughly enjoying the distraught woman's embarrassment, he pressed one index finger against the tight web of her exposed sphincter.

Roberta gasped, and instinctively rose to tip-toes trying to avoid the probing digit. "Noooo!!," she groaned, her face flushed with the humiliation of her bottom being held open and explored in such an obscene manner. She tried, but couldn't twist away from the strong hands that gripped and squeezed her butt cheeks. Harry merely laughed at her struggles, and enjoyed her obvious discomfort.

Then, removing his hand from her panties, he tugged on the rope and led her out of the laundry. Instead of taking her across the hall to the guest bedroom like she expected, he took her back toward the kitchen area. As they approached the stairway, Roberta started crying.

\"Not upstairs," she sobbed. "You promised."

As Harry neared the bottom of the stairs, Roberta began resisting, pulling back on the rope. Turning around, Harry smiled and continued pulling her along as he walked backwards past the stairs. Horror stricken, Roberta realized he wasn't leading her to her bedroom, he was taking her into the den where Frank was tied to his desk chair.

"Oh my God," she cried. "Not in there! We can go upstairs. Please, anywhere but in there. For God's sake, not in front of my husband!"

As Roberta was dragged through the doorway, Frank began tugging at his bindings, yelling into his gag. Seeing her husband tied and struggling caused Roberta to pull back on the rope with all her strength, momentarily breaking free of Harry's grip.

"Not so fast," Harry shouted. With cat-like moves, he grabbed the fleeing woman's hair in one hand, yanking her painfully backward, With his other hand, he grabbed one of her big breasts and squeezed hard.

"OWWW," Roberta screamed, "You're hurting me!"

Harry kept his grip on her hair and her breast, and used the leverage they afforded him to pull Roberta back into the den. Spying a chair next to Frank's desk, he pulled the struggling woman towards it, then sat down, pulling Roberta over his lap, her feet flying up in the air.

"Unnhh," Roberta grunted as the force of landing over Harry's knees momentarily knocked the wind out of the well-proportioned matron.

"It looks like you need some discipline," Harry growled. Re-positioning his hands so Roberta was held firmly over his knees, her big panty-covered ass presented a delicious target.

SMACK! Harry's hand landed solidly on her upraised ass.

"YEEOWW!!" cried the startled woman, her eyes flying wide open. SMACK! Another blow landed on her well-padded behind. SMACK! SMACK!

"EEEEHHHK!" Roberta screamed, her stocking-clad legs kicking frantically. SMACK! SMACK! Harry's large hands slammed onto her big butt, causing the cheeks to wiggle.

Roberta couldn't believe it. She hadn't had a spanking since she was a little girl. Clad only in her garter-belt, nylon's, bra, and lacy white nylon panties, Roberta's face again turned a crimson red with embarrassment.

"Stop it! STOP IT! How dare you! I'm a grown woman!" she indignantly cried out, her groans and fervent wiggling unintentionally serving to excite her tormentor even further.

Firmly in control, Harry paused to cast an admiring glance at Roberta's plump bottom, and thick, nylon-clad legs. Holding his left hand down firmly across her back to hold her in position, Harry slipped the fingers of his right hand into the waistband of her nylon panties.

"O, DON"T!", Roberta shrieked, horrified. "Please! Oh, please don't take my panties down! Oh, no!"

Completely disregarding Roberta's pleas, Harry began working the panties down with deliberate slowness.

:Oh, please! Oh, no! Oh, this is awful," Roberta exclaimed, closing her eyes and trembling with mortification as her large white buttocks came into view.

"Oh, please, don't humiliate me like this!" Roberta pleaded, moaning with shame and puckering her bottom prettily in spite or herself. She could feel Harry's rigid erection pressing against her belly and shuddered at the thought of what that might mean later on. SMACK!

"OWW!," Roberta exclaimed. "This is awful!"

SLAP! Harry applied another hard smack to her reddening rump, this time allowing his fingers to slide between her legs and into the moist nest of her cunt hair.

"Oh! Don't please! Please, don't," Roberta pleaded.

SMACK! Harry brought his husky palm down with a vigorous slap squarely across the crevice of her tender buttocks, flattening the two resilient spanking surfaces.

"OWWWWW!!" Roberta emitted a high-pitched shriek of pain as the heavy masculine palm slammed against her big, plush bottom. Her head snapped back sharply, and her stocking clad legs kicked wildly.

SMACK! SPLAT! WHACK! The young intruder continued applying his hand to his inviting target, pausing between spanks to admire the scenic effects created by Roberta's big scarlet and quivering buttocks, and her wildly swinging nylon-clad legs.

Finally satisfied that he'd taken some of the fight out of his attractive captive, Harry yanked her panties back into place, then shoved Roberta off his lap. Not allowing her time to think, Harry drug Roberta by her roped hands and forced her to bend at the waist over Frank's desk. After quickly tying the tope to one end of the desk's heavy brass drawer pulls, he cut two short lengths from it end.

Roberta tried to move around the corner of the desk, to its side, so that she could stand. Forcefully grabbing her by her hips, Harry moved her back into position. Then, sliding his hands down her left leg, he securely tied her ankle to one of the desk's front legs. As she hopelessly struggled, he grasped her right ankle, forcing her to spread her legs as wide as she could.

"Are you comfortable, lover?" Harry asked, tying her ankle to the other front leg of the desk. "It's almost squish-squish time."

Roberta didn't answer. She was crying so hard her entire body was shaking.

As he got to his feet, Harry slid his hands up the outsides of her legs. He liked the way this position accentuated her panty glad buttocks. He smiled at the red glow of her well spanked behind, clearly visible beneath the while nylon panties.

"Stop," she bawled. "Don't humiliate me like this."

"Awww," he chided. "Why you look pretty as a picture in this pose. In fact," he paused, spying Frank's digital camera sitting on a tripod near his desk. "In fact, we should take some pictures of you."

"NO!" Roberta exclaimed, tugging futilely against her bonds. "You can't photograph me! Not this way!"

:Oh, but I can," Harry chucked and began snapping off picture after picture of the bound woman.

Roberta groaned in shame. The humiliation of being photographed dressed as she was and posed in such a lewd and helpless position was more than she could bear. Fresh tears sprung from her already red eyes.

Unmindful of the mature woman's shame, Harry moved round and round Roberta, snapping photo after photo. He paused to concentrate on the cleavage formed by her huge breasts, and on her ample bottom, still red from his spanking.

"We should post these on the internet," Harry teased, pointing to the computer by Frank's desk.

"OH,PLEASE DON'T! NOOOO!" Roberta tearfully pleaded.

"Don't worry, lover," Harry cooed, placing the camera down. "We'll have time for more photo's later. Maybe some 'action' one's." With that, Harry slipped his hand between Roberta's legs and squeezed her plump pussy through her panties. Roberta gasped and renewed her attempts to break free. She jerked her hips back and forth, and yanked with her wrists as hard as she could.

"STOP!" she bawled, "Let me go. Leave me alone."

"You'd better be still," Harry warned her, taking out his knife again. "I'm going to customize your panties. You don't want me to accidentally nick your husband's favorite to, do you?"

Roberta quit struggling. She knew, now more than ever, that resisting would only get her hurt. Whimpering, she lifted her bottom slightly, grudgingly permitting him to cut a slit in the crotch of her panties.

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