Possession

It's almost 3 A.M.


I was half in and out of sleep when I felt his hands. They were ninja like, slowly creeping into my nightshirt, barely grazing my pale skin.

He didn't want to wake me. He wanted to violate me. To penetrate me while I slept. He imagined me coming to in a dream like state, marveling in ecstasy at my body impaled upon him.

He liked this scenario. Those nighttime arousals were hard to fight when vulnerable, powerless flesh is displayed before you. In casual conversation, he has made it known that he loves to ravage me while I lay still, submitting to his will with my silence.

It is easy to manipulate me while I sleep. Years of expernience have taught him that. His hands caressing my flesh, sliding my clothing off as I emit short cries of protest.

Without hesitation or preparation, he enters me. No need for any trivial foreplay, the lubrication is in the power. He thrusts quick and hard, pulling me back into the world. One arm pulls my leg behind him, the other presses my upper body into the mattress, ensuring I cannot struggle. When he senses my submission, he pulls a hand away to stroke my clit, an exquisite reward for my behavior. I vocalize my disposition, and take every inch. He pulls himself out of me, lays me on my back, and he mounts me like th proud bull that he is. He continues his tyranny over my flesh and I give myself willingly, allowing him to consume me and quench his thirst.

Kisses
Betty