Stalked

There wasn't any place to move or hide. No place even to move forward away from him as her head ended up against the headboard by the time he positioned her as he wanted.

She felt him wipe out her pussy sliding the combined juice of his cum and hers against her asshole. Whimpers turned horse and into outright screams muffled only by the mattress as he forced the second finger in her.

There was no relaxation in her ass, as he started the drive forward, his cock spearing her, rending her asshole and causing an extreme amount of pain as he popped through. Instead of allowing her to get used to it, give her a chance to relax, he drove on, ripping another agonized scream from her.

He paused when he was balls deep. Her body quivered in pain under him, her scream turned to a broken wail.
 
He ignored her pain and began the slow movement. She would get used to it. At any rate, despite the fact that he had cum twice already, he didn't think it would take long at all to finish in her ass, with it being this tight. He kept the pace very slow, but relentless as he moved. She felt amazing, her muscles still tightened around him in a death grip.

And he was fucking her ass.
 
Whimpering with a unharmonic break at each thrust, she'd never experienced such pain. Even as the pain settled into a hard, persistent burn it was too little relief to relieve the anguish. No making this better, no making her want this act as such.

He kept pushing in and out, back and forth held inside her only by her anal ring. Never relaxing, her body fought him, she panted through her mouth as her nose was completely clogged up with mucas. She prayed it would end soon.
 
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He prayed that it would last forever. Unfortunately, he knew that with the tightness her ass provided, he wouldn't be able to go on for too long. Which, in a way was good, because fighting with her in the beginning combined with fucking all three of her holes had left him quite exhausted.

He maintained his pace for a little while longer, spurred on by the whimpers of his partner. She would always remember him, of that he had no doubt. The man in the mask that had his way with every part of her body. He would not be forgotten.

His climax would be approaching soon...
 
It seemed he wouldn't ever stop. Her pain had diminished certainly, but was still there.

She just wanted him done. Gone. What more he could do to her didn't seem like it could be any worse than this. It hurt too much to fuck him back and spur his orgasm on so she was at his mercy. All she wanted was for him to be gone and to let her get busy trying to forget this had ever happened. Feeling him scrape in and out of her ass she didn't think that would be any time soon. Oh God, how she wanted him gone and a shower to scrub him off her, please...

Over and over he pounded into her ass and she whimpered.
 
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He was certainly doing his best to take his time, trying not to focus on the wonderful sensations coursing through his body. He grunted as his cock violated her last unused hole, and grinned maliciously at her tortured whimpers. He needed to cum in her ass, her humiliation and degradation would be complete. It would be soon.

As he pounded mercilessly into her ass, he realized there was only one thing that could make this moment any better. If only he could make her climax while he pounded her ass. He didn't know if it was possible, but he decided it was worth a shot. He slipped his hand around her body and began fingering her clit, strumming it as best he could. He hoped it was still sensative enough to cause a good reaction.

He watched and waited, only time would tell...
 
"No!!!!!!!!!" Martha's plea rose in volume when she felt him touch her clitoris. It was too much, the relentless pounding in her hurting ass, now he wanted her to become aroused at it?

His fingers brushed her sensitive clit and made her jump and that didn't exactly help her situation. She sobbed with her face pressed into the sheets, hurt and even more humiliated the more he played with her clit and drew out feelings she was trying hard to surpress.

Every time he pushed back into her, her clit scraped against his finger.

She would deny it to her grave, but she started to push on his fingers.
 
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He smiled coldly as he realized his attempt at her pleasure was working. He just needed to control his own orgasm long enough to ensure hers.

"Looks like my new little slut is enjoying getting fucked in the ass, isn't she?" he said, teasingly. His finger started moning more fervently now, attempting to drive her over the edge while he maintained his pace deep within her tight anus. He was going to make her cum again, to satisfy a deep need of her complete humiliation. She was never going to forget having her ass taken, and cumming as a result.

It was starting to get a little dry, so he stopped and slid out. His fingers continued teasing her clit as he smeared more of her juices over his cock, before slowly pressing back into her. She was slightly more stretched now, so it was much easier going in this time, and it only took a few strokes to achieve the same pace as he'd gotten before.

He felt the impending climax and struggled to subdue it. It wasn't time yet, he still had much work to do with her clit.
 
"Uhhh," she moaned when he left her ass, hopeful for the time it took him to slather her own fluids against her ass before sliding back in. It took less force to get back in her ass and she probably helped him some unwittingly moving back and forth on his hand.

In a few moments Martha started pushing back with more force as the feeling in her clit started her on the way to another orgasm. Breath was being torn from her throat with every shove, her voice broke. Harsh moans were all that she could manage as she let herself go with it. Fuck him.

Her cunt squished out new wet with her excitement. Her ass didn't quit hurting but it wasn't as bad as it was.

She came and it hurt more as she spasmed against his hand and her ass contracted around his cock.
 
He felt her orgasm beneath him, felt the squeezing of her muscles around his cock, and it was too much. The culmination of the entire night's activities had been brought to this point as he grunted in pleasure. His release was mere seconds away, and he knew that cumming in this precious woman's ass would complete the night. As almost an afterthought, he was almost sad that he was cumming now, as he was fairly certain he would have nothing left in him for more fun after this. The thought was soon gone, drowned in the sea of stimulation as he took his last thrust.

His orgasm was the largest of the night, dumping load after load into her tight ass.
 
His started to cum in her ass and it seemed to last forever.

At last he stilled and she was unwilling or unable to move. She was miserably sore, the skin had begun to bleed where she was bound. Her ass ached and each muscle felt sprung, as if she'd been in a losing wrestling match.

Martha's mind was perhaps the worst injury. She was defeated and humiliated and no longer had much in the way of self-respect left. She lay silent except for her ragged breathing.
 
He finally pulled out of her ass, leaned over, and kissed her cheek.

"Thanks for the wonderful night, my dear. I hope you had as much fun as I did," he said with a sly smile.

He got up and started to leave, but stopped near the door. She was a sight to behold, cum running from her ass and pussy, bruised and bleeding wrists, and dried semen and saliva on her face and hair. It was quite beuatiful, really.

He glanced at the window. Would be getting light in an hour or two, time for him to make his exit. He left her bound and left the house, feeling very triumphant.


---------------


Sam Grover had lived next door to Martha since she had moved in, having only recently arrived himself. He considered her a good acquaintance, having spoken a few times in passing. Couldn't be a nicer girl.

He was taking the trash out to the street when he noticed her door wide open. It was awfully early, the sun just coming up, and he looked around for her. After a few minutes, he realized she wasn't outside, he peered through the open door and called in.

"Martha?"
 
Was he gone? She didn't sense him in the room with her.

"I'm here, in here!!" Martha thought she screamed it out but it really was just a croaking whisper. She didn't care about her dignity, just wanted out of the rope and to wash and scrub and wash and scrub. "I'm up here."

She heard footsteps on the stairs and started to cry again, but this time it was relief.
 
"Martha?" Sam said as he peered through the open bedroom door. "Oh my God!"

He rushed in, setting to work immediately on the ropes. She was an utter mess, she looked beaten, bruised, and all cryed out. He noticed dried up liquid running down her legs from her still exposed pussy and ass, and he shuddered at the thought of what it probably was.

"What the hell happened?" he asked, finally getting the rope untied. He did his best to wrap her in a blanket and scoop her up in his arms. He had to get her clean, so he carried her to the shower, and set her beside it as he ran the water. It was taking forever to get the right temperature, so he looked back at her, concern filling his face.

"Martha?"
 
"I don't know who it was. I came home ..." she stumbled as she whispered to Sam. "He..."

She tried again, "He ...hurt me." She couldn't bring herself to say rape. She buried her head in her hands, hiding her face and shaking with sobs. He tried to put his arm around her in comfort and she cringed. She was so ashamed to be found like this. Especially by Sam.

Then it caught up with her and she started to sob in earnest against Sam's chest. He put his arms around her again and rocked her as she cried. After a time her sobs changed to sniffles and hitches. She was so tired. "Don't let him come back," she said against his chest.
 
"Hey, hey, nobadies coming back. Just relax sugar, you're fine now. Let's get you cleaned up..."

With that, he helped guide her in the shower, watching only for a moment to make sure that she could wash herself. He turned and walked back out, studying the room. The bed was a mess, covered in various body fluids, all of them, no doubt, Martha's. Then he saw a small object, something strange indeed. He picked it up, realizing what it was. This could help identify the attacker, and it was the only evidence he could see here. He shoved it in his pocket.

"You okay, Martha?"
 
Under the spray of the shower Martha soaped and scrubbed. It wasn't good enough. She turned the water to the hottest setting and scrubbed her body again. Her wrists and ass were the worst followed by her cheek. She couldn't clean her ass out but she wished she could, she felt befouled by his semen. She shampooed, then stood under the water until she heard Sam, "You okay Martha?"

"I'm okay," she said as she turned off the water. As if she'd forgotten what came next, she stood there.
 
Sam walked back in and saw Martha standing there, looking lost. He opened the shower and gently guided her out. He grabbed a towel off the rack.

"Come on, hun, let's get you dried up," he said, as he began towelling her gently. When she was fairly dry, he wrapped her in the towel and said, "I'm gonna go wash your sheets, but I'm not going anywhere, I'll stay for as long as you need me too, Martha."

He left her there after a concerned look and gathered up the sheets on her bed. After shoving them in the washing machine downstairs, he came back up to check on her.
 
Led around by Sam, she let him do as he saw fit. Not really thinking about too much, trying NOT to think. He dried her off and wrapped her in a towel. She sat until he came back.

"I don't know what I did. I don't know what I did. What did I do to make him come after me?"

Tears started to leak from her eyes. She grabbed some tissue and blew her nose, at least the heat of the shower had made her nose clearer. "Why would someone do that, Sam?"
 
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"Shhh... You didn't do anything wrong, hun," he said as he wrapped his arms around her. In reality, he shouldn't have been suprised in the least. She really was a beautiful girl, and she'd been living alone for quite some time now. In the world we live in, that's just playing the odds even more than usual. He just wished it hadn't happened to her, it was never easy dealing with the defilement of someone you know.

He held her face to his shoulder, his shirt wet from her tears now, as he patted her back softly.

"Everything's gonna be okay, I promise."

After a few minutes, she seemed to be cried out, which was no wonder. She'd probably spent most of the night crying, but now she just stood there, trembling.

"You should get some sleep, hun. I can stick around if you want, or I can leave. I'll make sure your door is locked before I go, if you prefer..."
 
She was okay until he mentioned leaving.

"Please, I can't stay her alone. I can't even stay in this bedroom." Every time she looked at the bed she cringed. "I'll go to one of the other bedrooms, not here."

She disentangled from Sam and rummaged in her drawer for something to wear. She picked out sweats and slipped into the bathroom to put them on.

"Please stay Sam." This was independent Martha, who didn't ask anyone for anything. "Please stay."
 
"Please stay Sam."
"Please stay."

Sam realized he couldn't leave this girl after what she'd been through.

"Alright," he said, "I'll stick around for as long as you need. I'll just head down to the living room and watch some TV, alright? Just let me know where you're gonna be sleeping, and give me a shout if you need anything at all, okay, hun?"

He eyed her carefully, watching her eyes as they seemed to be trying to produce more tears. The situation was nearly unbearable, this beautiful girl who'd been through hell the night before. And he really barely even knew her, except in passing conversations outside.
 
"Thank you so much Sam, I don't know how I can thank you."

Martha understood that he would stand between her and the door and any unwanted intruders, but she'd trusted too much perhaps in her previously safe world.

As she wandered around one of the bedrooms, her grandmother's, she picked things up, hefting them as if to test their weight. She'd have to call the alarm people on Monday and have them install a heavy duty system and the locksmith to change her locks and install dead bolts. She'd get a dog too. And maybe a Taser or pistol.

The television flipped on downstairs, she could barely hear it up here and Sam must have immediately turned it down because almost as soon as she heard it, it was gone.

She took a pair of heavy silver candlesticks and turned back the bedcovers. It smelled ...unused, not quite musty but she'd have to start being more diligent about airing the rooms out. She got a brush, her Grandmother's and sat on the bed, trying to get the snarls out. Sam was nice. He seemed nice. She only knew him as a casual hello kind of neighbor. She didn't even know what he did for a living or how long he lived there.

Martha got up and moved to the vanity, so many of her grandmother's things still sat, dusty and unused. Shears, bright and shiny, glittered in the lamplight. She didn't try and pull her heavy hair through the brush any longer, but took great hanks of it and hacked through it with the shears. Staring at what she'd done, Martha came back to see 2 feet or more of hair on the carpet, vanity and her lap. With a strangled cry she swept the vanity clear sending crystal perfume containers, an old oil lamp and other keepsakes to the floor. Almost immediately she was on her knees pawing through the wreckage, not mindful of the cutting glass or slivers that lodged in her hands.

Crying for her grandmother's things.

Crying for herself.
 
Sam sat in front of the TV, but he wasn't really watching it. Instead, his mind was turning. The man who'd had his way with Martha had gotten away clean, and there was really nothing to be done about it. It was a shame, really, it couldn't of happened to a nicer girl.

He flipped through the channels absent-mindedly. There was so much to be done now, and so little time...

Sam grew restless and began pacing the downstairs area of the house. He was looking at pictures of Martha, her grandmother, her friends. So beautiful...

He stopped and eyed one picture in particular. Martha's friend... Gina, was it?

His smile was cold as he looked at the picture.

I'll have to pay Gina a little visit soon. Maybe I'll bring Martha along for the ride...
 
-----Several Months Later-----

Martha has grown increasingly restless. Since the home invasion, she has managed to keep her job, but dropped her grad studies. She'd gotten a big dog, a pistol and lessons to go with it, an alarm system, new locks and deadbolts. She'd taken several self defense classes, changed her bedroom and still she was uncomfortable in her house.

She'd invited Gina to come live with her for minimal rent when her lease was up. She didn't know yet if she was going to take her up on it.

As she sat before the fire, Martha wondered if she would ever be comfortable here. No dates, no nights out with her girlfriends. All her time was spent on attending self defense classes or target shooting.

The only person she'd seen with any kind of regularity was Sam. She'd finally gotten over being incredibly embarrassed with him after he found her naked and tied up. She'd also lost about 15 pounds that she didn't need to lose, her body was all hard muscle now, not an ounce of fat. Even her tits had gotten smaller.

If you compared the two of them, Grandmother and Martha, the resemblences would be less in some respects, the eyes and hairlength were the same, but Martha's haunted look and dark circles would easily make them distinguishable.

Forcing herself up from the sofa, Martha went to make popcorn. Sam was bringing over a movie. Po'boy, the mastiff, padded after her, hoping to score a few kernals for himself.
 
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