Home invasion - Halloween edition (closed for Ghaust)

[Sensualista]

Greta was typing furiously, her deadline just around the corner as usual. After another paragraph, her ring finger finally struck the full stop and then her piece was done. She read and reread the article on modern child labour practices as used by the contractors of some major US apparel companies, who would have preferred not to be named. Tough. Naming and shaming was part of her business.

Part of the thrill of being an investigative journalist was the excitement and danger of continuously pissing off powerful people and of also making a difference to the lives of those who did not have a voice of their own. From slumlandlords over tax evaders to ruthless criminal businessmen, Greta had taken on quite a few big fish in her time.

She made a few final corrections to her piece before submitting it to her editor.
Great exhaled. Done. A smile crossed her face. She would have ten days off now, holiday days that had accumulated as she had focused on deadline after deadline, always far too busy for a vacation. HR had insisted she took them now, citing stress management and new legislation as the reason to fuck with a good thing.

Greta closed her work laptop, straightened her desk and refastened her black, tailored Donna Karan jacket over the form fitting white blouse, which revealed just a hint of cleavage. The matching skirt finished appropriately just above the knee, her long, toned legs in silky tights elongated further by the four inch black stiletto heels she so effortlessly walked in.

Her hips were swaying sexily as she walked along the corridor of her now almost deserted office, taking the elevator to the parking garage. Her long, wavy blonde hair cascaded fetchingly around her rosy skin, emphasising the high cheekbones and large emerald green, expressive eyes. Paired with a very curvy but slender hourglass figure, a full mouth and a beautiful face, Greta was undeniably stunning, men's eyes on her wherever she went.

She entered her silver Lexus and swiftly sank into the comfortable cream leather seats, which were warming pleasantly, relaxing her tense muscles. Greta pressed a button and commanded her electronic assistant to call Jake Gardner, her fiancee.

He was another acclaimed journalist, about to go undercover for two to four weeks, this evening being the last chance for them to speak in a while. They had met two years ago at a journalism award dinner and since they had both won, they had bonded over the ridiculousness of a group photo.

The phone rang three times before he answered. They chatted about their day, celebrating and encouraging each other, exchanging declarations of love before they had to end the call, promising to think of each other.

A peaceful couple of weeks were now ahead of Greta, who had taken a stack of new books with her to do at least something productive in her forced holiday. She had been forbidden to even check in with work. Fine, she could relax like normal people did every day. Yes, she likely would be bored out of her mind, but peace and quiet had never really harmed anyone, had they?

Greta exhaled with a sigh as she closed the door to her lovely suburbia home behind her, dropping the books on her kitchen counter. She turned on the light, poured herself a glass of Barolo and turned on some music. Toni Braxton was seductively singing about her private parts to an undeniably sexual beat. Greta hummed with the song, gracefully gliding towards her bedroom to take her clothes off and take a shower before bed to wash the stress of the crazy workday away.

As she stepped into the bedroom, feeling for the light switch, suddenly a strong hand appeared out of the darkness, closing over her red lips. Panic set in as she was pulled into the darkness against an undeniably male, muscular form that was controlling her body with ease. Greta struggled with all of her might and yet his arms never wavered or were even taxed. How strong was he?

"Don't make a sound", the deep voice threatened, fear gripping Greta's belly as she felt a wave of helplessness wash through her.

 

[Ghaust]

Mason sat in the deep luxurious leather recliner, a scotch in his hand, slowly turning it around in his hand letting the low evening light catch the angles of the crystal glass, while he waited in silence. His head was calm now he was here, inside her inner sanctuary, the place she would feel the most safe. Taking another sip as the sun dipped lower towards the horizon, closing his eyes and thinking about how he got here...

Mason had never thought of himself as a bad man, or even a criminal for that matter, but he did know he wasn't what you would call... straight. He had discovered quite early in his life, while he was still at school in fact, that he had a gift for seeing the angle, taking the shortcut and in short, making his life look easy. He had made a very nice life for himself overview years, always appearing to get out just before the business started to decline... and aways at least two places removed from the public eye.

That's how he had come to the attention of that journalist. He never actually met her, or even saw her, or her him for that matter, but still, she had caused him great stress. She had been some up and coming that had somehow managed to get an angle on his latest scheme and brought it all crashing down when she shone a very bright light on it.

He had slinked back into the shadows, unnamed and unknown, but financially damaged, escaping across to Europe to lick his wounds in his secluded chalet in Switzerland. It was there one morning that he had saw her while he was enjoying a hot chocolate in the crisp morning air. There she was in full colour, receiving some award, with her husband. He closed over the newspaper, finishing off his beverage. Now he has a name... and the rest would be fairly simple, given her newly discovered fame.

That was two years ago...

Now he was inside her home, having slipped in through the side of the building when a local supermarket had made a delivery that morning. The Gardners were creatures of habit, both workaholics and heavily reliant on online deliveries. He has spent a lot of time carefully documenting their movements until he found that small chink, the side access that the delivery drivers were given. It had only let him into a closed off area, but the door on the other wall had been easy to force.

He had spent the past couple of hours liking through the wardrobes, the two separate dressing rooms, the offices where he discovered her diary... and that she was going to be home alone for at least the next two weeks, with nobody expecting her to be in touch.

He was suddenly pulled back to the present as he heard her car pulling into the driveway. He placed the glass in the table, and quietly pulled the silk ski mask down over his face, the tight fitting material obliterating his features, leaving only his eyes free.

The door opened as he watched her from the shadows, seeing her in the flesh properly for the first time. He had waited a long time for this, and it wasn't to be rushed. She moved around her home effortlessly flicking switches, filing the air with soft music as she poured herself a glass of wine.

He moved quietly behind her, his eyes following the sway of her hips beneath her very expensive looking skirt, continuing downwards to her toned legs. He smiled as he looked at her stilettos, thinking to himself, they're staying on... for just now.

Closing the distance between them, he slapped his left hand hard over her mouth as he pulled her tight to his body with his free arm, dragging her backwards across the room until they were in front of a full length mirror.

"Not a sound", he whispered, "not yet...we'll around to you making some noise... when you're told to. He pulled her tighter against him, his groin rubbing slowly against her ass, her killer heels holding it at just the right level.

"We have a lot to discuss Greta", releasing her arms as he held her tight by the hand across her mouth, "but first you can take that jacket off ", his hand drifting down to stroke her thigh through her skirt.

 

[Sensualista]

Adrenaline was rushing through her veins, her heart beating so fast it sounded like some African tribal drumming. The man was tall, his large hand tanned, effortlessly covering her mouth, keeping her quiet. Greta's mind went frantically to her possible options as she felt herself pulled closer towards him, his huge bulge rubbing threateningly against her ass.

His intentions for her were obvious as his free hand was stroking her thigh, his hips moving against her as he was teasing himself with her body. Greta blamed her instantly hard nipples on the adrenaline coursing through her body, dismissing her body's urge to soften and surrender to the strong dominant male behind her.

He had positioned them in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom. He was clearly well-built, muscular and tall, towering over her intimidatingly. Greta suddenly felt so frail and vulnerable, what chance did she stand against a man like that? She rummaged desperately in her mind for the content of her self defense class. Distract them and then get out.

Greta took a deep breath and for a moment allowed her body to soften, moving gently against him, meeting his attentions as a soft moan escaped her lips. When she could see and feel him relax a little in suprise, she drew on all of the sensuality she posessed as his hand caressed her thigh. The fact that his touch was surprisingly pleasureable even though demanding made this easier.

When she could see him enjoy her responses in the mirror, Greta bit the hand over her mouth, using her stiletto heel to kick his shin, hopefully breaking it. She took advantage of the momentary relaxation his pain caused, escaping his arms, running for the door. She would have almost made it, freedom so very close Greta could almost taste it, had it not been for his lightningquick response.

She had locked the safety locks behind her as she came in, now costing her valuable seconds as she tried to escape her own apartment. She turned the last key as the strong hands grabbed her again, less gently this time.

Fuck. She had gambled everything on this and now she had pissed off the man whose power she was under. Greta could not help the trembling that shook her body as a wave of desperation claimed her. She had tried and she had fought. How would he make her pay?

 

[Ghaust]

He dragged her trembling body back against his hard muscled chest, watching them in the mirror. Her hands shook as they hung by her sides, her eyes wide with fear above the hand clamped over her mouth. Slightly irritated by her lack of compliance, he pressed himself agains her ass, his hand moving up and down her thigh, sliding her prim skirt back and forth across her fine silky tights.

He was about to repeat his command to remove her jacket when he felt her move against him, no, not against him, with him. He watched her breasts rise and fall as she breathed hard beneath his palm, feeling his cock reacting to the slow movement of her ass, grinding lightly against it.

"That's better ", he whispered in her ear, "play nice and this will be so much.... argggh". He cursed her as she tramped down on his shin, her stiletto biting into his flesh as she bit down. He stumbled backwards, relinquishing his grip on her as she bolted for the bedroom door. Getting shakily to his feet, he charged after her, taking the stairs two at a time as she reached the bottom and made for the front door.

His body crashed into hers as she fumbled with the deadbolts, her fingers refusing to cooperate as he grabbed her by the collar if her suit jacket, her breasts mashed against the hardwood door.

"So you want to get a little rough eh..? ", he hissed as his free hand reached round between her body and the door to roughly tug open the two buttons holding her expensive jacket closed. He yanked it down her back, throwing it across the hallway as he fought to control his anger.

"Now I was going to be nice with our introduction.... Greta... start off gently in your bedroom", Mason teased, "but maybe you're not a bedroom kind of lady... maybe you like it hard and fast, up against the door as soon as you get in...". He ground into her arse, punctuating his words as he brought a hand up to squeeze her breast through her thin blouse, feeling the quality of the material, and her delicate underwear beneath.

"I like your home Greta... I especially like how private it is...", he smiled, feeling her nipple bud hard beneath his palm, "you could be as loud as you want up here...". He pressed her legs apart beneath her skirt, his knee working between them as he continued, "do you like getting fucked from behind against doors... are you a screamer..?"

 

[Sensualista]

His strong hands were holding her prisoner, helpless to escape the substantial bulge in his pants that he was again grinding against her rounded ass. He tore her jacket from her skin, tossing it aside, leaving her just in her knee-length skirt and slightly suggestive white blouse, looking like a professional lady of means, conservative and respectable, her beautiful body accentuated subtly.

The contrast between her classy appearance and the things he had in mind to do to her and have her do to him was such a turn on. Corrupting a high quality piece of ass like this, turning her into his wanton little slut would be so much fun.

"Maybe you like it hard and fast against the door", his deep, masculine voice growled as his strong hand found her tit, massaging and squeezing it, finding the rock hard nipple, which betrayed Greta's arousal at this scenario. Most women had rape fantasies and clearly Greta seemed to be one of them. This could be even more fun than he had hoped...

Greta's mind raced at his words, every sense assaulted by his crotch, hands, voice and body. He was pressing her against the door, helpless to resist, completely trapped as he roughly fondled her large breasts.

"Please don't do this. I have money, I'll give you whatever you want, but please just leave", she whimpered softly, trying to ignore the ache in her hardening nipple, which was obviously enjoying this. As was her gently clenching pussy, which was already getting wet. She did not want this. Yes, she had fantasised many times and yet she did not want this to happen, did she?

"Please just let me go", she implored again.

His comments about the privacy of her home and his lewd questions about how loud she was were suggesting he would do no such thing. "Please", she whimpered again.

 

[Ghaust]

Mason pinned her to the door, his body tight against her, savouring the sounds escaping from her lips. "You never answered my question lady... that is so rude..."

His left hand gripped her throat as he slid the other off her tit, bringing it slowly, sensuously down her body, across her flat stomach, brushing over the waistband of her skirt to stop over the juncture of her thighs. He moved closer, his lips touching her ear as heasy pressed his fingers into her through her skirt, "well lady... do you like getting fucked from behind against doors...?"

He held himself there, his cock bulging hard and thick inside his tight fitted black trousers, pressed into the cleft of her arse as his fingers dug into her from the other side.

"I'll be needing as answer Greta... so as I can decide where we move to from here..", his teeth nipping her lobe, "and get better acquainted..."

 

[Sensualista]

His voice and fingers made her adrenaline filled body tremble.

"No, I don't", she whispered unconvincingly in response to his question as his hand found her throat and squeezed gently, unmistakably informing her of his dominance and the consequences for disobedience.

His other hand that was trailing along her body left little trails of fire along her skin, even through the fabric. His voice was low, deep and masculine and seemed to have a direct line straight to her pussy. She could feel something melting inside her in response to his dominance, a wish to please and surrender growing inside her, trying to keep herself safe, battling with the fire of outrage and resistance her mind was desperately trying to keep alive.

When his finger curled into her sex through, she moaned, trying to move away from him, wiggling without success as held her in place, helpless to do anything but take the assault to her sex and senses he was administering.

"No, please stop", Greta pleaded as her arousal was spiking. She was fighting a losing battle here, her body betraying her at his capable and demanding hands.

She could feel his hardon pressing against her ass, separated only by the skirt she was wearing. She knew then that he would not walk away before his lust had been sated, his erection a promise of her use to come. His mouth on her ear, nibbling was a sensual assualt on her, confusing her body even more with an additional layer of sensation, fanning her desire even higher. She had never been hotter or more aroused. What the fuck was he doing to her?

 

[Ghaust]

He ground into her arse, hips moving in slow tight circles, his tongue caressing her earlobe. He groaned, relishing the power he was experiencing, the heat of her body pressed against his chest as he slowly released his grip on her throat.

"I think you do Greta", his fingers pressing through her expensive skirt as he placed his right foot between her's, bringing it up tight against her right ankle and moving it sideways until it was stopped, restricted by her skirt, "I think you like being in this position... and love being fucked like this..."

Mason continued to move against her as his other hand too a hold of her left wrist, moving her hand to shoulder height and softly placing the palm against the warm wood of the door, before repeating the action with her other hand.

"Now does that not feel better", he whispered, letting the top of his tongue slip inside her ear as his hands releases their assault on her sex, sliding to her hips where they curled into the fine fabric of her skirt, gripping it between his fingers.

He listened intently to her, drinking in the gambit of gasps and whimpers as he inched her skirt higher, millimetre by millimetre, feeling it glide over the sheer silky hosiery beneath. He paused mid thigh...

"Spread your legs Greta..."

 

[Sensualista]

Greta could feel his growing erection grinding against her ass posessively and for some unexplainable reason it turned her on. Jake, her fiancee, was always so polite and proper, the sex with them so predictable, that Greta had been quite content if not wildly excited by their twice-weekly sex routine.

Never once had her sex felt on fire as it did right now at the hand of this stranger, this invader into her home who was likely going to fuck her, fuck her against her will.

His hands, his voice, his words, his cock all assaulted her senses. When he slowly pulled the skirt up her legs, the inevitability of her situation struck her. He was placing her in the perfect position to be fucked against the door. Greta's knees almost gave way as his hands traced her legs as he exposed them to his greedy gaze.

"Please don't", she whispered helplessly, barely stifling a moan.

"Spread your legs, Greta", he commanded, ignoring her plea.

"Please", she said.

"Don't make me say it again", he growled sexily as he spanked her ass hard. With a gasp, Greta complied, spreading her legs wide as her body began to shake.

 

[Ghaust]

He continued to tug gently on her skirt, pulling it slowly up her thighs till it barely covered her crotch. The hand on her throat squeezing, letting her feel his strength as he kicked her feet further apart, her skirt held in place as his other hand slipped up beneath the fine rucked fabric.

"I'm going to enjoy our time together Greta, and we will have plenty of it... now, how undressed shall we get you for our first..."

His fingertips moved across the sheer fabric of her her tights, teasing as they traced the line of her panties beneath. He smiled behind his silk mask as he felt her heat.

"For the next two weeks, your body and home are mine woman. But first we need to fix a few things... Don't move"

He released her throat, both hands moving beneath her skirt, fingers pulling on the waistband of her tights, drawing it away from her body before moving to grasp her silky panties.

"I love a good pair of legs, especially when they're encased in expensive tights, but we need to lose these"

With that his fingers wrapped in the waistband, snapping it St her right hip, then her left. He paused, letting the moment sink in before he drew the ruined scrap out silk from between her thighs, pulling it tight across her clit.

He swiftly pulled his hands from her, letting her skirt fall into place as he spun her to face him, his eyes burning behind his mask

"Take off your blouse Greta... then you can undress me"

 

[Sensualista]

He certainly knew how to build suspense. The way he almost caressed her tight-clad legs with her own skirt, drawing it up inch by inch was driving her crazy, unhurriedly, like a confident predator who was circling the prey that had already been subdued, considering how to best enjoy his prize.

"For the next two weeks your body and home are mine woman... Don't move", his voice commanded huskily, sending small shivers down her spine. Two weeks? People would notice. But no, she was on annual leave and her fiancee was away on another undercover assignment. Noone would be looking for her. Panic welled up in Greta's chest as the reality of her situation hit her. Unless she could escape she would be his, to do with as he pleased.

Her captor knew just how to pull her out of musings. A gasp escaped Greta's lips as he ripped her silky thong roughly, quickly turning into a helpless moan as he dragged the silky fabric along her already soaking slit. Her hips involuntarily moved towards him, giving his hands better access as her body took over. Her mind was screaming out to her how wrong this was, commanding her to fight, fight her captor, the sensations and even her own treacherous body.

His hand on her crotch made listening to that voice inside her head harder. He spun her around, handling her body as easily as one might a small doll, pushing her against the door to face him, his eyes burning into hers.

"Take off your blouse Greta, then you can undress me", he demanded, his tone of voice allowing no argument, promising consequences for disobedience. His gaze stopped the words of protest forming in Greta's throat. Instead her hands, like mesmerised travelled to her blouse, finding the first button. The closer she got to the button, the more her hand shook in a mixture of arousal and fear, leaving her paralised, her shaking hands unable to comply as her green eyes were captured by his.

"I...I...can't...", she whispered, a single tear running down her cheek as her hands refused to obey her.

 

[Ghaust]

Mason pulled her arms above her head, wrapping her wrists in his right hand, pinning them to the door as his eyes bored into hers, his free hand dropping to caress her cheek, as his thigh pressed against the front of her skirt, the pressure spreading her thighs beneath it as he ground his hard muscle against her pussy.

"I am not used to being disobeyed Greta... I told you to take off your blouse... and more...."

His stroked her cheek with the back of his hand as he held her in place, drawing his fingertips down her exposed throat, pausing at the top button, rolling it between his fingers, toying with it, teasing the threads to breaking point as he let the gravity of her decision sink in.

"Doesn't your pussy feel more... sensitive now that we have dispelled with that scrap of annoying silk... now that there is only a very sheer, very fine shield separating you from me", he whispered as he bent his lips to her throat, gently kissing her as he flicked open the first button, working himself harder against her, imagining the sensations that the moist nylon being ground over her clit were building.

He pulled away from her, drinking in the tiny sounds coming from her parted lips. His eyes flashed fire as his hand suddenly lashed out striking her breasts, slapping them first from the left, then the right. His hand clamped over her mouth.

"Are you ready to do as instructed Greta...?"