The Intruders

THE INTRUDERS

by Zenna

I gasped. Kristina looked at me nervously, as if she couldn't quite trust my reaction. "Is this ... all right?" she asked.

I stared at her some more, then finally found my voice. "No", I said, "it's not all right at all." As she began to frown, I grinned and added: "You look amazing baby, seriously."

And she really did. Her slender body was usually a little too boyish for my tastes, which generally ran to much bustier and curvy figures. I'd only really taken to her in the first place because her face was so pretty, and because she seemed so desperate to get into my pants. Even then, I might just have settled for the occasional blowjob, as I did with so many of the younger secretaries. Working for my father's firm made it easy for me to have the pick of them - and given that the old man pretty much did the same, I felt safe from any complaint to HR.

But Kristina was so enthusiastic in her attentions that I'd broken my usual rule and started going out with her regularly - or at least visiting her apartment. With a wife at home who was eight months' pregnant with our first child, she was a welcome source of sexual relief. But I was starting to get a little bit tired of her bony frame - until I had the brainwave of buying her a collection of sexy lingerie. She had just emerged from the bedroom wearing some of it - and it had absolutely transformed her.

I wasn't sure which I found more enticing - the translucent lace camisole that almost but not quite concealed her small tits, the shimmering silk of the black stockings that clung to her long legs, held in place by an intricately patterned suspender belt, or the glimpse of her sex afforded by the crotchless panties.

I beckoned her over and spent a few pleasurable minutes running my hands over the soft fabrics that covered her thin frame, then gestured downwards with my head. She knew what to do. As I stripped off my shirt she knelt in front of me and started unbuckling my belt. Within seconds my engorged cock was thrusting into her willing mouth. My mind was already turning to the delicious prospect of bending her over the small dining table and fucking her from behind, when the doorbell rang.

Startled, I pulled out of her mouth. "You expecting anyone?" I demanded crossly. Kristina shook her head. "Well, go tell them to fuck off", I instructed. She nodded, picked up the coat that she had discarded when we had got back from the wine bar, and hurried out of the room. I could hear her high heels clicking on the wooden boards of the hallway.

The front door opened, there was a brief conversation that I couldn't hear, and then it closed again. A few seconds later, Kristina stumbled back into the living room. "I'm sorry Brandon", she said, but I wasn't looking at her. All my attention was on the two men who had followed her in - and on the knives they were carrying. They weren't cutlery knives, or penknives. They weren't even the kind of knives you'd use to chop meat in a kitchen. They had long, evil-looking blades that could only be used for killing or maiming - and right now, one of them was being waved in my direction.

"Brandon, eh?" said its owner. He was tall and heavily built, perhaps in his 40s, with straggly black hair and a pock-marked face that I suspected would have scared me witless even it hadn't creased into a menacing grin as he glanced down at my rapidly shrinking erection. "Did we frighten your poor little man? No loss there, I'd say. But I reckon we should have a look at what got it all excited." He turned to his companion. "What do you reckon Dave?"

The other intruder, who was holding a scared-looking Kristina by the arm, returned the grin. He was much younger, with a fresh face and close cropped hair. Although similarly sized to his companion, he gave the impression that where the older man might run to some flab, he was built of solid muscle under his frayed t-shirt and dirty jeans. Shifting his grip, he pulled the coat off my girlfriend and gave an appreciative whistle at what was revealed.

"Very nice", murmured the first man, "very nice indeed. I reckon she'll do nicely, don't you?" Dave nodded, then jerked his head at me. "But I'm not sure I fancy yours, Ken."

The older man laughed, a sound that, if anything, was even more disturbing than his smile. "Oh I don't know, appearances can be deceptive, you know." He took a step towards me.

I backed away, realising as I did so that my hands were now cupped around my exposed genitals. "Look", I said, fighting to force the words past the fear that constricted my throat, "I've... I've got some money in my wallet. You can take that. And Kristina has jewellery. You -"

I got no further in my gabbling. Moving with surprising speed for someone of his size, Ken closed the distance between us and fetched me a ringing, open-handed slap on the side of my face. I felt the cheek redden and would have cowered down onto the floor if he hadn't grabbed me by the chin and held me in place with one massive hand. "Dave", he called over his shoulder, "why don't you go and see whether the young lady has what we need?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned his attention back to me.

I looked up into his scowling face and was so petrified that I was worried I might wet myself. I had never been one for physical confrontation, much less violence. Short and lightly built, I was in no position to win any fights - and I had generally avoided sport, gyms or any situations that called for strength or aggression. I preferred to let my money - or, if I was honest, my family's money - do all the talking.

But now none of that was going to help me. I was completely at this brute's mercy - and he knew it. For a couple of minutes he held me in place, saying nothing. My heart hammered in my chest and I kept flicking frightened glances down to the weapon he was twirling in his free hand. After what seemed like an eternity, he lifted up the knife in front of my terrified face, and then put it down on a side table, where I could reach it just as easily as him. "I'm not going to need that, am I?" he growled.

"N-no", I stuttered. He gazed at me steadily for a moment. "No, sir", I amended. He gave a little nod of satisfaction. Behind him, I heard his younger accomplice call out. "We're all good Ken, she knows what to do."

"Right", said the older man to me. "We're going to have a look around and see what we fancy taking with us when we leave. But before we say goodbye, we're going to have a little bit of a party first. And what's a party without girls, eh Dave?"

"Gotta have girls", affirmed his companion with a laugh, sauntering through the living room into the kitchen, where I could hear the fridge door being opened.

"Trouble is", continued Ken, "we seem to have only one available, and there's two of us. So where do you suppose we're going to find a second girl? I mean we could pay for one, but that would defeat the purpose of this being a robbery, wouldn't it? So might be easier if we just, you know, used the material at hand, right? Come on."

As he started steering me towards the bedroom, I tried to process what he had just said, then gaped with shock. "Wait - you can't mean ... ?"

"I mean", he said as he pushed open the door to reveal Kristina, trepidation written all her face, "that if two girls don't come out to join us for a drink, it will not be the walls on which we'll be carving our initials as a memento, got that?"

"Yes", I mumbled miserably as I joined my girlfriend. "I mean, yes sir."

"Good girl", growled Ken. He shifted his gaze to Kristina. "Better do a good job", he warned. She gave a scared nod and then stood back as he pulled the door shut.

"Come on", she said, her voice steadier than I would have expected, "we'd better get started". She gestured to a pile of clothing on the bed.

I stared at her incredulously, conscious of the fear churning in my guts. "You can't be serious!" I exclaimed. "Can't we ..."

"Can't we what?" she answered in a dull tone. "We're six floors up, so we can't get out. If we bang on the walls, they'll hear us. And that horrible guy Dave took my phone. They'll have got yours too - I saw you put it down out there." She took a deep breath. "We're going to have to, Brandon, if we want to, you know ... get through this."

"But I can't", I babbled. "Maybe you could ..." I gestured towards the door.

Kristina's face darkened. "Could what? Take care of them on my own? Is that what you mean?" I nodded miserably.

"Oh thank you very much", she said bitterly, though still taking care to keep her voice low. "While you find somewhere under the floorboards to hide, I suppose. Very gallant of you, I'm sure. But no, you heard what they said. They want both of us. And I do not want to argue with those knives, got it?"

I shook my head. I didn't either. But every fibre in my body wanted to rebel against what I was being forced to do. My mouth opened and closed and I almost bounced up and down as I tried simultaneously to convey that to Kristina and come up with a way out of my predicament.

"Brandon!" she hissed and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the en-suite bathroom. "Just shut do what you're told, okay?" She opened a cabinet with her free hand and took out a bottle of pills. "Take two of those. They'll help calm you down." She handed me a glass of water and I did as I was told. "Now get in the shower."

I opened my mouth to protest, but there was an unusually determined look on her face - and I was out of other options at this point. So I got into the narrow cubicle and turned on the water. I reached for my usual soap, but Kristina gave me a different bottle of lotion to use. It produced a floral-scented foam, with which I liberally coated my torso. I was about to rinse it off, but my girlfriend stopped me. "You need to lose that body hair", she instructed. "You do the top half, I'll do the bottom, okay?" She handed me a razor, keeping a second for herself.

Once again, I thought about arguing, but her expression dissuaded me. So instead I started the process of carefully removing the meagre amount of dark hair from my chest, my arms, even my armpits, conscious that she was doing the same to my legs. When I was done, she rinsed me off, reapplied the foam and finished off any patches I'd missed, including on the parts of my back I couldn't reach. Finally, she carefully shaved my genitals. It might have been a sensual experience under other circumstances, but as it was I had to hold myself still, terrified she might cut me - but her hands were a lot steadier than mine would have been.

After rinsing off again, and shampooing my hair several times, I was finally allowed out of the shower, shivering involuntarily at the strange feeling of being hairless. I was also feeling quite lightheaded, which I assumed was the work of the pills I'd taken. I made no protest as Kristina worked some sort of cream into my hair before putting it into curlers, then led me back into the bedroom. "Put these on", she instructed.

"These" turned out to be a pair of wispy stockings. "I - I can't", I mumbled.

"Oh, of course, you don't know how, do you? Here, let me show you." Kristina sat me down on the bed, and then neatly rolled up one of the stockings, gathering it in the same way I might do with a tight pair of socks. She slipped it over the toes of one unresisting foot and then steadily unrolled it, pulling and smoothing it as it went, until it's elasticated and patterned top was clinging to my thigh, the fabric - was it silk? - feeling gossamer light against my shaven leg. She handed me the other stocking. "Now, you try."

I looked up at her wordlessly, feeling utterly adrift. She nodded, and gave me a an encouraging smile. It took a little effort, but before long, I had the second stocking in place, to be followed by a pink and black bra and panty set that I recognised as one of my recent purchases for her. "Good thing you're about the same size as me", she smiled, as she tucked my inert cock away inside the smooth fabric, where it left a small bulge.

"I think I've got some breast pads here somewhere ... oh yes, here they are." She slipped a couple of flesh-coloured inserts inside my bra, to give an impression of a small pair of boobs. "Now, shoes ... you won't fit in my pumps, I think your feet are a little bigger than mine, but maybe these, with the open toes?" She held up a pair for inspection.

I found my voice for what felt like the first time since I'd got in the shower. "But ... the heels are too high! I won't be able to stand up in them."

"Sure you will", she said reassuringly, and got me to step into them. It was a tight squeeze, but she was able to get the straps up and over the back of my heels and fasten the ones on top of my feet. My toes protruded a little over the front, but I was able to stand in them, if somewhat unsteadily. I spent a few minutes walking up and down in the bedroom, with Kristina instructing me in how to "walk like a lady". By the time she had me sit down in front of her dresser, my calves were starting to ache, but I'd at least got over the feeling that I was going to take a tumble with every step.

"Now, makeup", said my girlfriend, who seemed to be relishing the chance to focus on my transformation, rather than think about what might come next. "They're not going to want anything subtle, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to cake it on ..."

For what seemed like the best part of an hour she worked away on my face and hair and eyelashes and fingernails. I had no idea so many creams and powders and paint seemed to go into female makeup - it was simply extraordinary. At one point there was a rap on the door. "How's it going in there?" called Dave. "Fine - just a little longer", answered Kristina calmly, raising her voice to be heard. "You do want us looking good , right?"

"Yeah", came the answer, "but we're running out of booze - and we want some company."

"Understood", said my girlfriend, patiently continuing the task of applying lipstick, not straight out of a tube, as I would have thought, but with a little brush. "There - that looks pretty good. Now, what about some perfume - and jewellery, mustn't forget that!"

She lightly sprayed some scent around my neck and then, after some deliberation, wound some pearls tightly around my neck and swapped out my usual small earrings for pendants with a gold-encased pearls that matched the choker.

"Do you want a look?" she asked, gesturing towards the mirror that had been behind me the whole time she was working on me. I wasn't at all sure that I did, but took a peek anyway - then stared, transfixed by the image in the glass.

It was a stranger. Not ... a woman, not quite. Definitely a guy with makeup - lots of makeup. But not me, surely. Because I didn't, I couldn't possibly

look that ... hot? Sexy? Even ... slutty?

And yet when I saw that face, the big eyes rimmed in black, the heavy lashes that disappeared as I blinked my own, the rosy cheeks, the glistening crimson lips parted in an O of astonishment, and all framed by blonde-tipped curls ...

With a start, I realised that my cock was stiffening inside my panties. Oh god, I was giving myself a hard-on! What kind of pervert did that make me? I looked round to see whether Kristina had noticed, but she was busy touching up her own lipstick, peering over my shoulder into the mirror. She smacked her lips, then patted me on the shoulder. "Time to go baby, they'll be waiting."

The reference to the two intruders was enough to soften my erection, but not as much as I would have liked. Stifling the urge to go and hide in the bathroom, I rose and followed Kristina out of the door and into the living room, still a little uncertain in my heels.

"Well fuck me!" exclaimed Ken, as I came into view. He was sitting back on one of the armchairs, legs akimbo, a large glass of wine in his hand as he stared at me. My stomach gave another lurch as his gaze roamed up and down me. "So, who do we have here?" This last was directed to Kristina.

She nodded in my direction. "This is, uh, Brandi", she said quietly. Ken gave an explosive laugh. "Brandi, eh? I suppose you'll be saying she's got lots of spirit, right?" My girlfriend looked puzzled at that, but he waved his hand. "Don't worry about it sweetie, you just go and join Dave there on the couch, yeah?"

As Kristina reluctantly did as she was told, Ken beckoned to me. "And you can come and sit on your Uncle Ken's lap ... Brandi." He patted his thighs and gave me a leer.

I don't know if the blush was visible through all the makeup I was wearing, but I could feel it spread up my neck. My cheeks felt like they were glowing with mortification as I lowered myself down to perch on his thighs and felt his hands roam over my exposed body.

His touch was more gentle than I would have credited. I shivered as he caressed my legs and let his fingertips rest on the exposed thigh above the stocking tops. But worse was to come, as he moved them further up.

"Well now, what do we have here?" His tone conveyed a mixture of amusement and contempt as his questing hand found the lump inside my lacy panties. To my utter shame, I felt myself become hard again.

There was a kind of heat in my groin, and I seemed to have no control over my arousal. So when he used his free hand to tilt my head around and then brought his mouth down upon my own, I couldn't help the little moan that escaped my parted lips, even as I quailed at the unfamiliar and unwelcome sensation of being kissed by a man.

The combination of feeling utterly helpless and yet turned on left me reeling. I wanted to pull away from the stale breath, the stubble that rasped against my painted lips, the tongue that probed into my mouth ... and yet at the same time, something wanted him to keep stroking and squeezing the throbbing organ trapped inside the silky fabric of my knickers.

I should have resisted more, I knew. But he was bigger than me, and had a knife, and ... it wasn't as if I was giving anything back. Maybe this was all I would have to do?

But even as the thought flitted across my confused brain, I knew it wasn't true. Being kissed and fondled was going to be the very least of it ...

As if to emphasise that point, Ken eased me further onto his lap, so that my panty-clad bottom was resting directly on top of his crotch. "Wiggle your ass", he instructed.

I did as I was told, grinding my butt into him and being rewarded - if that was the right word - by the feeling of something coming alive inside his pants. Something very big indeed ...

I shuddered and involuntarily caught the eye of the man who had me at his mercy. He grinned, then inclined his head towards the couch. "Looks like your girlfriend's having almost as much fun as you are, Brandi, eh?"

I glanced across and stared at the sight of Kristina, her bra and panties already discarded, writhing in unmistakable pleasure as Dave kissed her exposed nipples and worked the hand that was jammed between her legs. As I watched in appalled fascination, I felt Ken stroking my bottom, then easing his own hand down inside the back of my knickers. I nearly leapt out of his lap as his probing finger parted my cheeks and traced the rim of my anus.

Yet even with that distraction, I couldn't tear my eyes off the sight of what was happening across the room. Raising his head from the modest boobs he'd been suckling, Dave nodded towards his groin. Without any apparent trace of reluctance, Kristina dropped to her knees and fumbled with the younger man's zip. After some difficulty, she drew out his stiff appendage. Her gasp at its size was echoed by own exclamation, and then a peal of answering laughter from the two men.

"Funny", smirked Ken, "you could swear she hadn't seen a real cock before! But I reckon she likes what she sees ..."

From the eager way that Kristina fed the tip of Dave's monster phallus into her waiting mouth, I reckoned the same. I shook my head in wonder as she gave up trying to get its massive length down her throat and settled into a steady rhythm, her head bobbing up and down as she applied her willing lips.

"Let's go and take a closer look, shall we?" murmured Ken. He stood up and half carried, half dragged me across the room. It was only as he did so that I realised to my shock that his finger was now actually inside my rectum. Mercifully, he removed it as he dumped me on the floor right next to my girlfriend, but I knew it would only be a brief reprieve.

"Watch and learn", growled the older man. "And get your clit out and play with it. You know you want to, you horny little slut."

He saw my puzzled stare and gestured contemptuously. "That little thing in your panties. But don't you dare come, or we'll be cutting you a proper cunt, understand?" I nodded, suppressing the sob of terror that rose in my throat, while wondering how I could possibly still be aroused.

As I reluctantly freed my rock hard cock from the sexy panties I had bought for my girlfriend and now had to clumsily remove, struggling to stop them being snagged in the high heeled shoes I was so implausibly wearing, I didn't just want to be somewhere else, anywhere else. I wanted to purge the image of my made up face, to expunge the humiliating sight of my girlfriend ecstatically slavering over the intruder's giant phallus, to forget the shame of being kissed and caressed like the captive whore I so clearly now was ...

For the next hour or so I watched, completely helpless, as the two men ravaged Kristina - and as she came, again and again, while I could only grip my miniature penis (as I now thought of my puny four inches) and tried desperately not to follow suit.

It was mostly just a blur of ruthless, pounding sex. But there were a couple of images that I knew would be indelibly printed in my memory.

One was of Kristina impaling herself on Dave's fleshy pole, somehow accomodating its full length as she bounced on top of his belly, while Ken thrust his shorter but much fatter cock into her willing mouth.

And the other was of how it ended - with the two penetrating her at the same time, the older man's thick shaft buried in her pussy while his accomplice fed part of his great length into her spit-greased asshole, her initial whimpers of pain gradually turning into more moans of ecstasy while the men reached their own noisy climaxes. My own organ throbbed in time to their pulsing orgasms, ready to explode itself at the merest of touches.

For a moment or two, the intruders held themselves in place, their spent cocks still locked inside Kristina, their sweaty bodies heaving. The thought of escape briefly crossed my mind. Maybe I could run outside and get help from someone down the hall? Or even make it out of the building? But no, not dressed like this. Besides, I wasn't that fast, even when not wearing heels ...

And just like that, whatever opportunity there might have been vanished, as the intruders clambered off my girlfriend and left her slumped on the couch, the creamy residue of their orgasms slowly leaking out of her. Ken grinned as he saw me taking in her condition. "Clean her up", he instructed.

I clambered to my feet, looked around and started heading to the bathroom for some tissues, or maybe a towel. But I had misunderstood. Ken grabbed me by the shoulder and twisted me around to face him. "With your tongue", he said curtly, jerking his head towards Kristina.

"But I ..." My attempted protest was cut off with a yelp as Dave smacked my bottom hard with the flat of his hand. "Do what you're told bitch", he snarled. "Here, I'll help you get started." He reached down and jammed a couple of fingers into Kristina's dripping cunt and then withdrew them again. Ignoring her moan, he brandished his digits in front of my face. "Open wide", he said, his face creasing into a grin of pure mischief.

I swallowed hard, opened my mouth and then nearly choked as Dave jammed his fingers inside. He arched his eyebrows at me. Miserably, I began licking and sucking, all too aware of what the unfamiliar taste must be. It was strange rather than unpleasant, but even so I had to resist the urge to vomit as I cleaned the gooey mess off his fingers.

"You like the taste of real men's cum, Brandi?" As Dave let me go, I turned to face his older companion, who was regarding me with a sardonic smile. I gave a convulsive nod. It seemed too dangerous to do anything else. But that clearly wasn't enough for him. "I'm sorry Brandi, I didn't hear your answer?"

I felt tears of shame pricking my eyes as I gave him the answer he wanted. "Y-yes sir, I like the t-taste of ... of real men's cum."

He laughed. "Well that's good to hear, isn't it Dave?" As the young man chortled in response, Ken continued. "Tell you what honey, you finish cleaning up your girlfriend - make sure you swallow every drop, mind - and then we'll see how much you picked up from watching her. Gotta say though, she's a tough act to follow!"

He shot Kristina an admiring glance. "If I'd known what a horny little slut she was going to be, I'd have invited a few more of my friends around to share her ..." He treated me to another of his evil grins, which seemed to be in limitless supply. "Course, I might still do that ..."

As I got down on my knees and started using my tongue to lap up the copious quantities of spunk that were spilling out of my girlfriend's gaping pussy, there were many things I was trying not to think about. Her shudders and moans, for one thing - or rather, what they seemed to confirm about how turned on she'd been by the relentless fucking she'd just received. The salty taste that was filling my mouth and coating my throat as I gulped down the men's jizz. The nausea building up in my stomach. The fact that when I finished her quim I'd have to start on her asshole.

But most of all, the thought of what "Brandi" was going to have to do next ...

Like the story? Want to see it continue? Feel free to email any comments to me at zennaswallows@gmail.com zennaswallows@gmail.com. And please think about making a donation to help support the great work Nifty does in bringing us stories like this one.

xoxo Zenna