by sarAdora

They came into the house when I was in the shower, silently - danger approaching - surrounding me - hidden in the shower's mist.

I was alone in the house - my two college roommates away for a week celebrating the end of the trimester. I finished my last final exam that morning - the last I would ever take and I knew I had aced it. I needed this week alone to regroup before starting my doctoral dissertation.

Rinsing my hair, I threw my head back - my hands smoothing the sleek strands - my hair wet against my back - a slight coolness chilling me as if someone had opened the bathroom door. Before I had a chance to react, a heavily muscled arm was around my waist, a large hand covered my mouth.

I'm afraid.
I need love now and a glass of warm tea and a special kind of cookie my Aunt Sophie used to make for me.
I'm a child again, trying to shelve my fear.

"Don't fight," the deep voice rumbled in my ear. "Just relax, enjoy. I don't want to hurt you." His arm is strong but so gentle around me - his chest warm.

"Close your eyes," another voice growls against my neck.

Two of them?

My heart is racing, my fear elevated to a ceiling high.

"Keep them closed." It was an order - softly spoken, commanding, expecting me to obey. A soft cloth I can't identify covers my eyes. I am blindfolded, stilled with shock. I'm having trouble breathing.

Fear creeps forward - in primal waves.
Bile on the back of my tongue -
nausea in my belly - dizziness washing over me - the urge to scream -
but my throat is swollen shut.

My body shakes.

My hands reach out - touch a bare chest - wet fur over a washboard abdomen - those muscles frighten me. I turn, as if putting him behind my back will make him disappear. I reach again, palms out and curl around biceps bigger than my waist - my knees buckle and I hear moans, unaware they come from me.

"Stand up," the voice of the biceps bark - and slaps my ass so swiftly, so hard, my breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh - my body teeters into him.

"Easy, little one," the softer voice of the man behind me murmurs in my ear. "I'll hold you."

They circle me - I'm not sure which is which.

heightens all my senses.
The tile beneath my feet - sharper than I remember.
The shower's spray drumming off the walls -
drops stabbing me like daggers...
and their hands on me... firm, exploring, demanding, and proprietary.

I lean on one of them and whisper "Why?"

"Because you're beautiful," the gentler one whispers in return.

"No! Don't do this! Please!"

"You belong to me," the other one growls, pulling me to his chest, his hand hard on my ass once again.


It stings - it burns - I whimper - but not from pain - from fright.

Fear -
I drift back to my childhood home -
get under the covers - naked and alone -
hug my pillow and my soul - sleep.
I want to wake and walk in the countryside -
pick blueberries and count monarch butterflies.

"Relax, enjoy," the gentler voice rumbles once again.

I can barely breathe.

"Gonna love you hard - gonna fuck you good." A broad hand slips between my thighs.

"Easy little one," the gentler one tries to soothe me. "Let's do this easy. Lean on me, I'll love you easy. I promise you."

Fear has frozen me.
I am beyond shock. I am numb.
Prick me - I will not bleed.

They close in on me - I'm sandwiched between them, their muscled chests against my back and breasts, their thighs like ribbons of steel against my hips and belly - hands at my shoulders, hands at my hips. My heart is pounding in my chest - there's a roaring in my ears.

"Sweet, so sweet," the gentle voice croons, lips capturing my nipple - kissing, suckling that part of me into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the tip - inhaling me.

"Hold her," the harsh voice growls. "I want to mark her as my own."

"Not too hard," the first one says, capturing my arms as he embraces me.

S--P--A--N--K - a hand covers my entire ass. I gasp.

S--P--A--N--K - he slaps me again.

S-P-A-N-K - S-P-A-N-K - S-P-A-N-K - S-P-A-N-K - S-P-A-N-K - S-P-A-N-K

I sting - I burn - it hurts so bad - my cries muted, muffled by a furry chest. The hand that scorched me rubs my butt, his voice in my ear praising me. "Delicious ass!" he growls low, fondling me. "Delicious baby." He pushes a hand between the backs of my thighs.

"Spread 'em, little one."

I have been molested. I cannot move.

Fear -
I'm a child again -
falling asleep on Grandpa's lap after he kissed the scrape on my knee.
He keeps me safe from the harsh realities of life.

"Now," he thrusts my thighs apart, cupping my sex, his thumb roughly invading me. He chuckles - it's a frightening sound. "You're wet. So sweet and hot and wet. Oh yeah, you'll belong to me."

He rubs my sex - exploring, mapping the territory, dipping in to test the moisture caused by fear, bringing a finger to his mouth to taste my heat. "Do you want this pussy before I fuck her?" he asks the other man.

"Yes," the gentler one replies, cupping my ass, lifting me to his shoulders, his mouth on my sex as the harsher man spreads my thighs.

"I want to love her - taste her - tease her first. I'll get her ready for our cocks. My tongue will make her slick. Oh baby," he murmurs, spreading my petals, lapping me. "You are so soft and sweet."

Fear -
I could slip into childhood so easily -
slip into it as easily as one inhales the scent of gardenia
on the breath of a summer's day.
I let that thought sustain me.

I'm wet - dripping wet. How can that be? My body has betrayed me, divorced from stark reality - responding to his touch.

The harsher one holds me. My upper body is cradled in his arms. His mouth nuzzles my neck and throat, his palms cup my breasts, surprisingly gentle as he rubs my flesh.

Hands and tongues tease me, my nipples hard, my sex dripping - seeking release. The tension builds - I soar - and am putty in their hands. They stand me on my feet between them and spread my legs. Harsh hands on my ass, stinging me. Gentler hands on my sex, slapping my swollen folds. I scream from pleasure - I scream from pain.

The harsh one invades my ass - slowly pushing in - the pain is excruciating. The gentle one kneels, tonguing my sex again, diverting my attention to his mouth. It works - until the other pushes in and out of me. And then he stands, gently thrusting into my core, both of them taking what they need.

I pretend they're my lovers.
It's the only way I'll survive this madness of their hands and mouths on me,
their cocks invading my pussy and my ass.
Was I ever a child? I can't remember.

They take their time, enjoying their dominance over me, thrusting, pushing, and filling me. And when they are finished, they linger, their softening members still inside my body. I am their receptacle - nothing more.

They fondle me, cradling me between them, their lips dropping kisses everywhere, their hands gently rubbing the places where they invaded me.

"Beautiful ass, baby," the harsh one murmurs as he cups my sore cheeks. "Gonna spank you again, sometime. And when I do, I'll fuck you good."

"You're beautiful, little one," the gentler one whispers in my ear. "I love spanking you, loving you. Can't wait to love you again."

Fear -
I was a child once, longing for other worlds.
I'm grown now. I've known love and I've known fear -
the kind of fear that lasts forever.
I weep now - for that fear
and for childhood as it sweetly sleeps.

~ Fini ~

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