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  #1  
Old 01-Jan-19, 03:38
lasthero lasthero is offline
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Default The Intruder

[Wrote this on a whim off a quick idea I had. If you like this, leave a Like or give me a comment, and if there's enough interest, I'll keep going with the story. Hope you enjoy this first bit!]

Ron woke up with his face on the floor of his foyer, in the middle of steadily growing pool of his own saliva.

His body woke with a jerk, a sudden jump, then settled as his brain went into a hard restart. In a flash, all of the major details loaded in, reminding him of the important things. His name was Ron Jackson, he was a bank teller, he lived in a reasonably upscale neighborhood in Charleston, South Carolina, he had a wife, he had a dog, he had a car that he’d just finished paying and was only now showing engine problems. He was middle-aged with a growing bald spot, he worked out just enough to be not too fat and not too thin, he had a stable job with little chance of promotion and little chance of being fired. Just a normal, stable, average American life.

Until he answered the door five minutes ago, anyway. If it even was five minutes - he honestly couldn’t be sure on that fact. He’d just come in from a boring day at the job, looking forward to enjoying some TV time in the precious hours before his wife, Anna, returned from her day job at the library. Just as he was pulling off his tie, the doorbell rang, and he didn’t think much of it, not at first. He thought he’d heard a car pulling up a minute or so. The library wasn’t too far away, only a mile or so, and sometimes Anna stopped by on her break for a quick meal. Nonchalant and cool, he made his way out of the bedroom, passed the living room, stepped into the foyer, opened the door, and-

And…

And that was where it got fuzzy, with details he was still trying to put together as he pushed up off the floor. He’d opened the door and his wife hadn’t been there. Someone else. Someone bigger, someone close to his size. Whoever this guy was, he moved fast, so fast that Ron couldn’t get a good look at whoever he was as he came rushing into the house. The next thing he knew, the intruder was behind him, arms were circling around his throat, he put up a fight for all of five seconds as his airway was squeezed shut, and then there was only darkness.

As he pushed his way up, groaning at the protests of his body, he only had three questions - who was that man, what did he want, and, most pressing, where was he now?

The answer to that final question came in an instant. Ron heard the thump-thump-thump of rushing footsteps as he rose up to his knees, coming at him from the side out of his living room. He’d just managed to turn his head that way when a sharp pain sliced into his ribs, enough to knock him over on his back. Was this a mugging? Was he being robbed? If that was the case, why was this man still here, why didn’t he just taken what he wanted while Ron was knocked out, why would he-

This wasn’t a man.

Ron could tell that right away, as the intruder stepped over his fallen from, planting her red high heels on both sides of his prone body. His eyes traveled up her body inch by inch, making their way up a pair of rippling legs. There was little fat on these legs, and what little he could spot didn’t do much to hit the bulging muscles. Wide and long, the seemed to swell with power, showing off muscles he didn’t even know the human body possessed. Those legs were connected to strong, svelte hips, and abs that he could clearly see, since the woman dressed in nothing but black lingerie. It clung tight to her alabaster skin, so tight that he couldn’t help but wonder what the point of it was. Her breasts, just large enough for him to wrap his hands around each one, threatened to swell over her top, so much that he could see her areolas peeking up over her bra.

Her arms were strong, not as thick and veiny as her legs, but far more solid than Ron’s, with the tattoo of a serpent winding around her left bicep. Her shoulders bulged, looking hard enough to deflect bullets, with a faint scar running around them served as the only thing marring on a perfect body. Her hair was long and black, trailing down behind her, leaving a few stray strands to drape across her chest.

Out of all that, what stood out to Ron the most - what frightened him, kept him pinned to the floor - was her face. It was a pure face, clean and smooth, one that couldn’t have belonged to a woman a day over thirty, with dark, black narrow eyes that might’ve spoke of some Asian heritage. It was a beautiful face, one that would’ve lit up the room if she smiled. Only she didn’t smile. Didn’t smirk. Didn’t say a word. Didn’t even blink. She looked down at him with a stern, unmoving glare, one of pure contempt, as if this was her house, and he was the intruder. As if he was just a cockroach that wandered under the door, and now she was considering whether or not he was worth the trouble of crushing.

It took Ron a moment to process this and remember that he was capable of using his mouth for more than gawking. “What-” He stammered the words, then found some courage and started to sit up, putting more bass into his voice. He was a man, this was his house, and she didn’t belong here. “What do you think you’re-”

The woman sat down, which wouldn’t have been a big deal normally. The problem was that she sat down on him, and she did so in the roughest way possible, dropping her full weight on his stomach. She didn’t weigh too much, had little fat on her body, but that made it worse. Her body was solid, had no give, and the hardwood floor Ron laid on wasn’t any softer. The drop drove the air out of him, and he would’ve screamed if he had the breath to do it. Instead he jerked upwards, eyes wide, gasping, flailing wildly.

A hand around his throat put a stop to that right away, as the intruder gripped him tight and slammed him back down. The blow alone would’ve left his head swimming, but now he had an unflinching grip around his throat. He kicked his heels, she squeezed. He pulled at her wrist, she squeezed harder. Nails dug into his skin, tiny daggers, and his body went into a desperate frenzy. While one hand pulled at her wrist in vein, the other balled into a fist and shot out, drumming hard against her iron abs, looking to give her some incentive to let go.

Her response? A slap. A slap that hit his face like a punch, one that left him seeing stars and would’ve jerked his head to the side if she wasn’t pushing down on his neck so hard. Another slap followed that, and another, and another, until Ron’s vision was nothing but darkness and flickering stars and her face. Her cold, chilling face.

She didn’t have the look of a woman choking a man to death. She had the look of a scientist inspecting an amoeba through a microscope. Curious. Attentive. Caring? No. His resistance faded away as his body lost the energy to fight, his punches against her abs turned to taps and turned to nothing, and pleaded with his eyes and tried to squeeze out a few desperate words, but none of it moved that face.

It was the last thing he saw before his world went dark once again.

Last edited by lasthero; 01-Jan-19 at 03:52.
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  #2  
Old 01-Jan-19, 11:19
babbocalimero babbocalimero is offline
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Default Re: The Intruder

Great story!!!!!
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  #3  
Old 06-Jan-19, 01:46
lasthero lasthero is offline
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Default Re: The Intruder

When he woke again, he went into shivers right away, his body retracting away from the cold. Not that it was freezing in the room or anything. As near as Ron could tell, it was the same temperature it had been when he was knocked out, no change there. No, he was the thing that had changed - his work clothes had been pulled off, leaving him in nothing but a pair of blue boxers that fit fine last month, but were getting a size too small. It wasn’t the most flattering look, but propriety was the last thing on his mind at the moment.

Where was she? Where was the Intruder?

He was staring up at the ceiling of his living room now, watching the ceiling fan lazily whirl about overhead. He sat up with a grunt, rubbing her sore neck as he went, only to freeze stockstill when he saw her there, sitting on his coach, her legs crossed. She’d moved around the furniture in the time he’d been knocked out, pushing everything to side until a space on the floor was clear, ten feet wide and long at the least. She sat before him like a queen, looking down on her unruly subject, contemplating judgement.

She didn’t move. So still that he might not have enough known she was alive, save for the occasional blink. The room was quiet, nothing but dead air and the hum of the air conditioning. He stared at her, then turned his head just enough to eye his cellphone, sitting on his computer desk nearby. He looked at her again, bit his lip, and then he went for it, rolling to his knees and reaching out for the device and his salvation.

That was a mistake. He didn’t know why it was a mistake when he lunged for the phone, but the reason become readily apparent when the Intruder burst off the couch and close in on him with three long strides. Her heavy steps made the room rumble, warning him of her approach, but he tried to block them out of his mind. All he had to do was pick the phone up, hit the emergency button and then-

Ron cried out as she gripped his hair hard, yanked him up, and slammed his face into the keyboard, hitting with enough force to knock off a few letters. He held onto the phone, defiant, but that changed when she grabbed him by the wrist and yanked it back in a tight hammer lock, wrenching his wrist hard behind his back. The phone fell to the floor and she kicked it back into the foyer a second later, as if his hopes needed anymore dashing.

She twisted around and sent him rolling towards the center of the room, tossing him like an overstuffed bag of garbage. Ron wasn’t too agile at the best of time, but desperation spurred him on now, and he was quick enough to scramble up to his hands and knees. He was wobbly, still woozy from the blow to his head, but he moved as swift as he could towards the foyer.

She cut him off halfway, swinging her leg at him from the side and sinking her shin into his gut. The blow knocked the wind clean out of him and sent him flying back to the center, erasing all the ground he’d gained. That was where he stayed this time, coughing and wheezing on his knees, holding up a hand as she approached him. Slow steps. Stalking.

“Wait-” She didn’t. Instead, she reached down, grabbed his head, forced it between her thighs as she stood, and then the pain started.

It was slight at first. Pressure, coming in on the side of his head. Strong, yes, but more of an annoyance than anything. If it was just that, it would’ve been uncomfortable, but nothing he couldn’t endure. But then the leg grew. And grew. And kept growing. Her thigh, bare and soft, turned to steel around his skull. Unflinching, unyielding, unending, leaving less and less space between them.

Ron screamed. And squirmed. And kicked. He pounded away on the legs, hammering his fists into them, but it was like trying to hit a sandbag. There was no give, no real impact, and it just seemed to make her squeeze harder.

The Intruder spread her legs apart and let him fall, and the man who hit the floor was far more haggard than he’d been ten seconds ago. Stars dancing across his vision, he planted his palms on the floor and started to push up, demanding his arms to work. What she thought about his efforts he couldn’t say for sure, but judging by her next actions? She didn’t approve.

He hissed when a foot came down on his back, right between the shoulders. Another one dropped a moment later, right into the spine, and a kick crashed into his ribs after that, flipping him over like a turtle on its shell. She kicked hard, making his bones light up with pain, but he’d scarcely had a second to deal with it before she was on him again.

She straddled his waist and his hands went to his neck, expecting her to choke him out again. It was a waste of time, really. His upper body wasn’t her target this time.

Her legs slithered around his own, intertwined with them and locked. Once they were secure, she began to spread her thighs apart, forcing him to do the same...only the angle was wrong. Her flexibility outclassed his, his groin was being forced apart, a sharp pain was working its way up his middle, as if he was being split apart.

“Please!” He slammed his fists against the carpet, gritted his teeth, shook his head from side to side. “Stop! Stop, please! I’ll give you anything you want, just stop, please!”

She didn’t stop. Didn’t say anything. Ron was starting to suspect that she was getting exactly what she wanted right now - the chance to see him suffer.

Grinding his teeth down so hard he thought he his teeth might crack, Ron arched his back and let out a feral groan, the noise of an animal helplessly caught in a snare. He was about to open his mouth and try more pleading, offer her money, when her she drove her fist hard into his stomach. A solid, stiff punch, probably not the worst she could do, but more than enough to leave him gagging. Another followed and another followed after that, filling the room with his sputtering croaks.

Instinct kicked and Rose brought his arms up, feebly blocking one of the punches. It didn’t do much to hamper the impact, but it was hard to tell that from the Intruder’s reaction. Her eyes narrowed, nostril flared, with the first emotion he’d seen from her since they’d met: rage. Reaching up, she grabbed his wrists with one hand, pinned them above his head, and then the real punches began.

Each blow was precise. Each blow was powerful. Each blow drilled into his core, shot past skin and muscle to strike at the bones and organs underneath. Her jerked about beneath her, but the hold on his legs was still hers to play with, keeping him locked down below and above the waist. All he could as she drilled into stomach was lay there and take her blows.

She punched his ribs, a hook to the side.

She punched his belly button, drove her fist in as deep as it could into fat.

Three quick punches thundered against his chest, hitting with the rhythm and timing of a drumbeat.

The assault left him a mess on the floor, arms splayed out as his body refused to answer his commands. His chest was heavy, every breath was taxing, and he was certain she’d broken something - no clue what, but it distinctly felt like a few of his bones were in the wrong place. He needed to get to a hospital, but somehow he doubted this woman would be let him make the trip.

Her fierce glare cooled down, turning back to the cold stone he’d grown more accustomed to with their short acquaintance. She leaned down, grabbed him by the ear, and hauled the upwards, forcing the rest of his feeble and failing body to follow suit. He sat up and she untwined her legs as he rose, letting his legs go free and easing his pain in the middle. A moment’s respite. Only a moment.

He knew something was wrong when she moved her legs around his side, and he knew exactly what was wrong when she crossed her ankles behind him and brought that familiar power to bear. The same force that still had his skull sore was now working away at his midsection. A crushing, relentless power, inexorable and inescapable, hammering away at his bones. He pushed at her knees, desperate for escape, but all she did was pump her legs and pour on more power.

She kept pumping away, too, flexing and crushing, pressing him with rhythmic jolts. It was hard to be sure, he was so busy tossing and turning and crying in abject agony to be sure, but it seemed like she was squeezing him in time with his breath. He’d inhale, she’d squeeze He’d inhale, she’d squeeze. And...and…
.
“I can’t-” Ron tried to take a breath, but found it difficult. Too difficult. “I can’t.”[/color]

‘Breathe’. That was the word Ron was going for, and the reason he couldn’t get out was because his lungs were being pressed too tight. She was suffocating him.

If he hadn’t figured it out before, it would’ve become readily apparent now, as the stars began to dance across his vision and the word grew silent. A numbness crept over his body, starting at her thighs and spreading out from there. It was like she was infecting him, working her way through his body and taking away all feeling.

And even still, she said nothing, only staring at him without a drop of remorse. Silent, as his hands fell to his sides. Silent, as his groans turned to mumbles turned to whimpers. Silent, as his eyes opened and closed and opened, only to close one, final time.

Out. Again.

Next Week: The Intruder Meets The Wife. Sort of.
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  #4  
Old 11-Jan-19, 15:23
M.J.Caboose M.J.Caboose is offline
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Default Re: The Intruder

Nice story! Keep it up!
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Old 12-Jan-19, 15:19
sugoishadow sugoishadow is offline
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Default Re: The Intruder

The female Intruder Meets The Wife, sound hot.
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Old 16-Jan-19, 04:27
lasthero lasthero is offline
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Default Re: The Intruder

The phone was ringing.

At first Ron thought it was just his imagination. It seemed far off and distant, like it was a mile away on a silent country night, faint and fading. It wasn’t just that he was coming back into consciousness that made it sound like that, though. There was something around his head, something muffling the noise, like earmuffs.

Only bigger.

And hotter.

And softer.

But growing harder and harder by the second. Constructing. Closing in. Squeezing. Creating less and less space, pressing into his throat like a noose, taking away his breath, making every inhalation a struggle…

“God! Oh, God!” Ron eyes opened with a start and found themselves looking down the Intruder’s imposing body, as he laid on his stomach and she laid on her back before him, stretched out. She gazed down his way over the hills of her breasts and the plains of her chest, with one hand behind her head her and the other at her side. It made for a striking visual, even he had to admit that through all the pain. It was just a shame he couldn’t enjoy it for long. Her legs made that somewhat difficult.

She had her thighs wrapped around her neck, trapped n the crux of her legs while they draped over his shoulders. Snug and tight and tightening. He reached up and tried to pry them, digging his fingers into the thighs in a vain attempt to pull them apart. He would’ve had an easier time prying apart the Jaws of Life, he was sure of it.

If she noticed his futile attempts, she didn’t show it, and he wasn’t just thinking about her usual silence. No, the Intruder’s attention was hardly on - instead, her eyes were focused on the cellphone in her hand. His cellphone.

At first he was confused, or as much as he could be with the strangulation affecting his capacity to think and breath. That confusion only mounted when she held the phone up to his face, close enough that he could read the screen

1 Missed Call. From Anna. His wife had been trying to reach him.

His first instinct was one of relief, knowing that someone was expecting. She’d be coming soon, she could call for help, she could do something to help him. That feeling deflated and the color went away from his face a second later, though. If Anna came home now, she’d have no idea what she was walking into, and Ron strongly doubted the Intruder would have any more problem crushing her than she had crushing him.

It was a sobering thought, imagining Anna in the spot he was in, but he had little time to process it before the phone rang again, lighting up his face. The Intruder shifted around her legs, moving them higher, just reaching his cheeks, and then she pressed the little red button on the screen and turned on the speakerphone.

“A-Anna?” He stammered, fear and confusion and pain clear in his voice. “Anna, are you there, you need to-”

Before he could finish the warning, the Intruder’s legs came down on his jaw with skull-cracking pressure, pulverizing his bones for one agonizing moment. It was brief, a flash, but it pure agony and his cry filled the room.

“Ron!” His wife’s sweet voice perked up right away. She was in the car, judging from the way the sound bounced about. Probaby on her way home. “Ron, what’s wrong?”

He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it just as quickly, looking up at the Intruder, staring into her ironclad, steely eyes. He couldn’t help but feel there was an unspoken threat, here, a warning to not say anything that would displease her. If he had to guess, he’d say that would include telling his wife to call the police.

He had to be smart about this. Say the right things. That was the game.

“Nothing, nothing, I’m fine.” The Intruder eased up on the hold, lessened the pressure. A reward. “I just got through with a workout, went really hard, that’s all?”

“You went to workout?” Ron could almost hear his wife’s eyebrow raising over the line. He loved her, really, but the woman had a habit of analyzing everything. Sometimes it was cute, but not so much when he was on the verge of a concussion. “Where’d you find the time, you only got off-”

She was suspicious, suspicion was bad, and the Intruder showed him that by crushing his head once again, pumping his skull between her thighs with rapid bursts of power. Her legs swelled so large that they covered his ears, silencing the world around him for a moment, and he had to clench his teeth to keep from screaming.

Once again, only a moment, and when it passed he was gasping and sucking in air and thinking about all sorts of excuses. He picked the best one, and went with it. “They let me off early! They let me off early, that’s all, it’s no big deal, honey.” The Intruder seemed to approve and shifted her legs, lightly rubbing them along his swollen cheeks, grazing his face with the fine hairs of her legs. “Trying to cut down on my hours, that’s all.” He even managed in some nervous laughter, though he didn’t have to fake it all that much. “How was-“ Ron tried to squirm around and make his position more comfortable, but she killed that notion with a jolt of power, putting him back into place. “H-how was your day?”

And so began the longest phone conversation of Ron’s life.

As much as Ron loved his wife, she could ramble sometimes, and this was sadly one of those times. The next few minutes were filled with random oddities as they discussed her day, who had ticked her off, the little fued she had going on with a coworker, how much her feet hurt. It was all banal chatter that he’d learned to filter out. Harmless enough.

Not so harmless when he had a pair of thick thighs threatening to crack his skull, however. The Intruder kept the pressure up throughout the talk, keeping him secure, never easing up all the way. Sometimes she’d crank it up, make him suffer for no other reason than her amusement. Sometimes she’d rhythmically flex her thighs, surging from one side to the other, as if she were chewing his head. This painful, grinding, cracking motion that left his jaw aching and made the simple act of talking to his wife an agonizing choir.

When the conversation drew to a close, Ron was a sweating, heaving mess on the floor, and he thought one or two of his teeth were cracking.

“Well, look,” His wife went on, already growing used to his constant groans. “I’m on the way in, I’ll be there soon. Do you need me to pick up anything, or-”

“Yes!” He yelped the word out, a sudden blurt when the Intruder pounded his skull and made the noise come out, jerking him about like an unruly puppet. “Yes, yes, I mean, yeah, I need you to pick up a, uh...uh…” The legs were closing in again, harder than ever before, so little space, no mercy, no relent, no give, no anything. Think, think, think-

“Pizza!” The answer came to him just as the stars began to light up around his eyes. “I’ll order a pizza at Mario’s, you can pick it up, that would be great. Yes…” With the answer made, the crushing ceased, and he was allowed to stay in the land of the living for a little while longer. It was the best he could think of - it would take her a while to figure out he hadn’t called anything, buying him at least twenty minutes to keep her away from this hell.

“Oh, okay.” She chirped back with a tinge confusion, but not enough to form a question. “I’ll swing by there, then. Love you, honey.”

“Love you-”

The Intruder clicked off the phone and tossed it aside, not caring about where it landed or whatever Ron’s final syllable. She looked down at him, head turning left and right. Thinking. Considering. Waiting.

And then she began to bring her legs in.

“No, no-”

And she tucked her ankle under the knee of her other leg.

“Please, I did what you wanted, don’t-”

And she began to crush and squeeze wring his neck, taking away all his air. This hold wasn’t like the other ones she’d done - here, she’d formed her legs in the shape of a ‘4’, creating a force that came down on his throat from all sides. It was like he was being hanged, like her legs were a rope wrapped around his arteries.

Blood was rushing out of his head, skin was changing colors, and it felt like his eyes were on the verge of bursting out of his head. She responded to his struggles and silent pleas with a hard jerk to the side, cracking his neck and slamming his face on the floor, hammering it into the carpet.

He couldn’t feel it, thankfully. He was already fading. Going, going…

Gone.

Next Week: Time to say goodbye...
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  #7  
Old 16-Jan-19, 18:14
sugoishadow sugoishadow is offline
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Default Re: The Intruder

The next the wife is waiting un the car, while intruder vs father, brother,cousins
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Old 18-Jun-22, 12:08
joey8 joey8 is offline
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Default Re: The Intruder

dear Lord, this didnt continue???
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  #9  
Old 19-Jun-22, 00:33
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Ridethewave Ridethewave is offline
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Default Re: The Intruder

I really loved this. Ron desperately having to think of a way to keep his wife from coming home, while not sounding like his face is being ground to a pulp by killer female thighs, made for very tense and captivating reading. I thought the wordless interaction between Ron and his jailer was hot too.

I'm hoping the intruder's motivation for the attack becomes a bit clearer soon though... Is she there to rob them? Did Ron do something that we don't know about? It doesn't appear to be pure pleasure, as our female villian doesn't smile ? I guess I'm feeling a little sorry for Ron (not too much though

Anyway, thanks for continuing!
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Old 20-Jun-22, 15:37
GIOVENCA GIOVENCA is offline
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Default Re: The Intruder

Non vedo l' ora di assistere all'incontro con la moglie

I can't wait to attend the meeting with his wife
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