The End of a Long Day

You flop down onto the sofa, exhausted after a day at the office and under the thumb of its queen bitch. With the mirror securely mounted upon the ceiling, it was there when you moved in and you never saw a need to remove it, you stare at yourself, at your curves and the way you've sprawled over the furniture. One shoe is just hanging onto an arched foot, your long hair is spread like a halo above your head, and the thinnest sliver of flat stomach is visible between your skirt and blouse. The image you present is sexy, your reflection bites her lip and a jolt of pleasure arcs through you. Your hands move quickly, undoing buttons and sliding down zippers, until you're naked on the sofa, fingers gently working your pussy.

Your eyes are closed when the door to the closet under the stairs slowly opens. If you'd been more aware you'd have noticed an open window, remembered the news stories about a serial killer in the neighbourhood. A man unfolds from within the space, stretches to his full height, and quietly strides towards your oblivious self. He takes a moment to admire you, smirks at the slight blush on your cheeks and erect nipples, before slipping round to stand by your head. His hands shoot out, clamp tight around your throat, and your eyes snap open, staring up at the man with fear.

You try fighting back, your hands grasp at the man's wrists and forearms. He moves to straddle you, shifts your legs together so he can fit on the sofa, and you buck, try to dislodge him. The grin on his face is predatory, he knows this is a one-sided affair, but desperation drives you. The hands around your throat clench, only a squeak escapes as all you begin hearing is the pounding of your heart, and your vision starts to darken at the edges.

The man continues until your eyelids flutter, until your hands fall limp, and keeps going, crushing the life from you. A final rattle and spasm marks the end and he straightens, eyes tracing the bruises imprinted into your neck. You don't, can't, resist as he manhandles you, arranging you for his pleasure. Your legs are spread again, everything exposed, and he groans as he hastily discards his own clothing, sinks an iron-hard length of flesh deep into you.

Twice more he violates you, spills his seed upon your flesh. Your dulled eyes stare sightlessly at the mirror, unseeing the cum cooling on your breasts and dripping from your slack mouth, for a long time after he's left, for a long time until you're found.