Do You Like Scary Movies?

Mika shivered in the chill dusk air as she finished watering the plants of the creaky, well-worn country home she was housesitting on Halloween Weekend. Two years removed from an undergraduate career filled with Tinkerbell costumes, a gender bent Michael Myers onesie (Michaela Myers), and a variety of offerings she'd defend as "ethically slutty," she was comfortably clad in a university hoodie and leggings.

Staring out into the setting sun of the surrounding country, she exhaled comfortably; smiling as she saw her breath. Winter always came for the country first; the rural spaces of her state died before anything else, until they were reborn in the rite of spring. It was her fourth night at the house, and she finally felt used to the encroaching darkness that was about to swallow up everything around her.

What else could she need? The doors and windows had locks, the homeowners believed in the second amendment, and there was an old dog who still felt brave... but that only showed when she Facetimed her boyfriend the night before. Solicitors and field and wildlife agents who meandered down the curves of dirt roads elicited nothing but slobbery invitations for head scratches.

She reached down to rub his head and both jumped as her phone rang. The dog made his arbitrary bark as she accepted the call.

"Hey Brad!" She answered spiritedly, smiling as she saw the angle of her man driving.

"Hey sweetie," he responded, softer than usual.

"Be a good guard Mr. Bongo," she said in a playful voice, opening the front door and shoving him to stay outside as she closed and locked it, "are you on your way? I'm just about to showeeerrrrr, but if you want me to wait-,"

"You know that dog couldn't be a guard dog if he tried, he only ever barks at me," he said absentmindedly. Mika sighed and rolled her eyes, "anyway sorry Mik I got into a little accident after the last Doordash and I'm not sure this car is going to make it out into the boonies."

Mika swallowed another sigh and threw a bottle of white wine into the freezer, determined to not let Brad ruin her night.

"I...," she sighed, and tried to reconnect, "I'm sorry that happened to you, baby, what happened?"

"Some asshole in a... Captain Kirk mask? I don't know. Some kid ran in front of me and I had to swerve and-"

"Michael Myers," she said without thinking.

"-ran over a mailbox," he sighed, "what?"

"It was probably a Michael Myers mask. Which I guess is really a William Shatner mask but nobody would dress up like him wearing a mask..." she drifted off.

"Yeah... right. Look I think I can still do some deliveries in town, I just, I'm sorry Mik. We'll catch up when you're back in town."

"Yeah. Sure."

Minutes later, Mika was escaping under the deluge of hot shower water. She closed her eyes, and let the heat wash over her back, before looking down and smiling at how her own breasts rose and fell; capped by soft, brown nipples.

Her relationship with Brad was good enough, but she realized the key to a good sex life with him was embracing feeling sexy for herself.

When he'd haphazardly bury his face between her legs (rare!), she'd grind against low effort licks by thinking about how good her thighs looked.

A volleyball player in college, she had generally stayed in shape, and that extra bit of thickness in her thighs and stomach made her feel very Greek. Brad had her ride a lot, so she'd try to see how her more-than-handfuls of breasts moved in the mirror alongside the rest of her body.

Mika shivered in the shower as she slid a hand down her stomach and curled a finger between her lips. Getting ghosted on Halloween night was ironic, but she was arguably about to have a better time by herself, a glass of wine, and a sparkly dildo.

Stepping out of the shower and drying off, Mika held her own gaze in a lightly fogged mirror. Emerald eyes flitted over her own curves. Charitably, Mika decided to snap a picture of her chest to send to Brad. She raised the phone at an angle; pursing her lips and showing off the swell of her cleavage held up and together by her arm. Of course, she wasn't THAT charitable; so she kept her nipples covered.

As she pulled on sleep shorts and a baby tank, she fired off the picture.

Don't crash your car again. ????

Mika slid the phone between the waistband of her shorts and the front of her hip, and headed down to pour wine. She set her dildo down on the counter and opened the bottle; heart fluttering and anticipating such a fulfilling night of self care. As she re-corked the bottle and took a long drink, she smirked as the phone rang again. She answered without checking the contact.

"Brad you better be borrowing a car so you can come out here and fuck these pretty titties." she said in a sultry tone.

All she heard on the other end was a pair of deep breaths, and a hitch in between.

"I'll settle for you pulling over and playing with that dick for me," she added off the top of her head, blushing at her on-the-fly naughtiness.

One more deep breath.

"Because I'm definitely about to get wine drunk and bounce this pretty pussy on my dildo. If you're lucky I'll even Facetime you while I do it."

"Hello Mik."

It was her turn to swallow down a hitched breath. She looked at the phone. The deep and gravelly voice that had just greeted her was hidden behind "Unknown Number".

She took another gulp of wine.

"S-sorry, I think you called the wrong number," she breathed softly, spine-chilled.

"A pretty girl telling me to fuck her pretty titties?" The caller growled, "I think this is definitely the right one."

"No... no, no," she shut her eyes and rubbed her temple, "I mean I'm not... my name's not Mik."

"I think it is but nobody calls you that," the voice explained simply. She gulped, and he continued, "but you look like a Mika, or a Michaela... if I got to know you more... intimately."

Mika desperately hung up the phone. With the context of the night, the setting, and even just the erotic underpinnings, coincidences were bound to happen. Still... there was something about that voice that had her heart racing for more than just horror-coded reasons. Still, she jumped again when her phone rang a second time.

"Look, I told you, you've got the wrong number," she answered bravely.

"C'mon Mika," butterflies fluttered in her stomach immediately after hearing the voice again, "I know you don't want to spend your Halloween night alone."

She rushed to the front door to make sure it was locked, and then glanced at the back door. Locked.

"I'm not going to be alone tonight, my boyfriend is driving down."

"If he were driving down you wouldn't need to Facetime your pretty pussy getting stretched out on your dildo, would you?" The voice sneered.

Her heart raced faster.

Mika squeezed her eyes shut and balled her fists, trying to ignore the electric feeling between her thighs.

"Fine," she responded through clenched teeth, "what do you want?"

"Well I had a few ideas before I called but I think I want to watch you fuck yourself with that sparkly toy."

"Fuck off, pervert." She said defiantly, ending the call and slamming the phone down. Her eyes focused on the dildo on the counter, and her hands shook.

The phone rang again.

"Listen-," she started to answer.

"NO, YOU LISTEN YOU LITTLE SLUT! IF YOU HANG UP ON ME AGAIN I'LL FUCK YOUR DEFIANT MOUTH WITH THAT FUCKING DILDO."

Tears welled in Mika's eyes and she started shaking at the brutal turn.

"Sorry Mik... a," the voice softened, "I might have gotten carried away."

She wiped her eyes.

"No... no, it's... fine. It's just... no one has ever talked to me like that before."

She heard his breathing pick up over the phone.

"Fucked your face with a dildo?"

"... called me a slut while doing it." She admitted softly.

"Not your boyfriend, Brad?" He growled.

"H-how, how do you know that name?"

"I know a lot of things, Mik."

She stumbled back towards the front door and looked out the window, unsure as to why... or what... she'd be looking for. If there was something out there, she'd be able to see it. She'd be able to see a car coming, the dog would have barked, everything was fine and she was okay.

"Fuck off." She sneered into the phone hanging up.

She opened her chat with her boyfriend, tit pic left on read, and started typing out a myriad of different messages.

"Call me please?"

"Text me when you're free."

"Some weirdo just called..."

But before she sent anything she cursed under her breath and realized that she could just call HIM, and she did, and it went straight to voicemail.

"God dammit!" She yelled, stomping into the kitchen to drink directly from the bottle. She kept the bottle in one hand, grabbed the dildo, and sat herself down on the couch.

Hard.

There was only one way to turn her brain off... and she started sliding a hand down the front of her tank and imagined the nicer things that the Unknown Number voice could say. Her breasts were just a bit heavier than her small hands, and she often dreamed of a bigger grip massaging them. As she pinched a nipple she squeezed a bit too hard when the phone rang again.

Brad was calling.

Mika breathed a sigh of relief as she answered the call.

"Thank fucking GOD babe. I was just startiiiing to play with my titties. Do you want me to Facetime you?"

"I don't think you want to see what Brad looks like right now."

The voice was back.

"W-What... what are you talking about?" She slipped her hand out of her tank and absentmindedly let it fall into her lap.

"Why do you think I knew about his little nickname for you? And about that little dildo you like to use?"

She breathed a soft sigh of relief, realizing that there wasn't any real way she could be seen without knowing she was being watched. And she wasn't being watched.

"Your Brad must be quite the voyeur, but he's not seeing anything now!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She heard a trunk door unlatch through the phone, and then a series of muffled screams.

"Let's just say Brad delivered food to the last house on the left... and got tied up and punished for it. Tell her Brad."

She heard the gag being pulled out.

"Mi-Mik? Baby just do whatever he asks okay?"

"Brad! Brad," she pleaded, eyes watering again, "who is he? What's he look like? I'll call the cops."

"Don't you know in horror movies the cops never come, doll?" She jumped in the couch seat as she heard the trunk slam again. "Now listen... Brad's going to be okay... I'll even BRING him to you, but you've got to play a little game first. And if you hang up, I'm going to open my trunk again and beat him up... and I don't know if I'll be able to stop myself."

She heard a car door open and slam, and felt herself sinking into the cadence of his voice.

"Okay Jigsaw...," she said softly.

"Brad said you liked horror movies. I always think it's such a great thing; for a girl to have incredible tits and good taste in movies."

She felt herself uncontrollably blush, looking down at how good her breasts sat in the tank.

"Just... start the game already you fucking creep."

"I also love when they talk dirty."

Goosebumps rose on her arms.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" He asked flirtatiously. She allowed herself to relax, and took another drink of wine.

"Midsommar," she said quickly, "it felt so fucking real at times but there was something incredibly relatable to the experiences Dani was having. Plus Florence Pugh is a baddie."

Mika stretched her long, athletic legs out on the table in front of her, forgetting about the circumstances of the phone call.

"What's yours?" She asked when he didn't respond. She heard him roll the windows down, and wind start to blow in; a dirt road rumbling underneath the car. She didn't give it a second thought.

"Why don't you be a good girl for me and guess?" He ordered.

Her breath caught once again.

"Uhh... Obsession."

He laughed brightly, before coughing, and spoke gravelly again.

"Is that the one with that girl that goes crazy and smashes her friend's face in with a steering wheel?"

She rolled her eyes.

"She doesn't "go crazy," her asshole friend-,"

"Bear, yeah, I know, I was just messing with you. I thought it was a good movie but it wasn't some treatise on feminism. Are you going to judge me for saying Inde Navarrette is also a baddie?"

"Is that your type, then, dark haired brown women?"

"I have a thing for blondes with nice tits," the voice admitted.

Mika squeezed her thighs together as she tried to collect her thoughts, and she heard the slam of a car door over the phone.

"Now for the real first question," he teased, "answer this right, and I'll start bringing Brad your way... and if you answer enough questions maybe he'll even be able to get it up for you after being in such pain."

"Just ask the question you fucking freak."

"God your mouth is so fucking dirty, Mik. You said Midsommar is your favorite horror film; so hopefully you can tell me the name of the demon that the cult tries to summon in Hereditary?"

"That's easy. Paimon."

She heard the trunk open again.

"That's good... that's good. So you want me to bring your boyfriend to you?"

Brad's muffled screams bled through the phone speaker.

"You said you would if I answered your question right!"

"I did," he growled out, as a rough thump sounded in the background, "and hopefully I'll beat Brad less and less."

"Fine," she said curtly, taking another pull of the wine, "I'll do whatever you want."

"Such a good girl for me, Mik. Take your top off and send Brad's phone a picture of those pretty tiddies."

She blushed, and winced after hearing another thump.

"Okay... okay." She pulled off her tank and used it to dry her eyes. As she raised the phone up, she kept a hand in her lap and pushed her chest out, snapping a few pictures and firing them off.

She felt herself blush as a pleasurable spark crept between her legs.

"Oh Mika... you're such a sexy model for us."

The "us" hit hard, and she couldn't find words to respond when she heard another round of muffles and thumps.

"Brad I'm sorry he made me do it, he made me send them I'm sorry."

"You hear that Brad? She's SORRY!" the voice delivered sarcastically.

"Leave him alone you fucking sadist!" She shouted into the phone.

"That was a bad idea, Mika," the voice responded simply, before a thump. And another thump. And a continued, cacophonous, cascade of thumps and yelps of pain came through the phone.

"Please, please stop, I'm begging you," she started crying into the speaker, "I'll do anything, anything. I promise!"

"... Anything?" The voice asked slyly, "slide your hand down the front of your shorts."

"Wh... what?" She breathed softly.

"Finger that pretty pussy for us before I knock your fucking boyfriend out!" He sneered.

She squeezed her eyes closed and did as she was told, working a soft hand into the front of her shorts, and gently rubbed circles around her clit before sliding a finger in. She breathed out until she couldn't any more, which gave way to a moan.

"That's it...," the voice cooed, "you know your boyfriend has lost a lot of blood and he's still fucking hard right now. Does he get off on you crying, or is the sex just so good he's hard despite the pain."

"The sex is...," she paused, interrupted by thoughts of Brad slipping out during doggy, or finishing too fast in missionary. And then she blushed, because she was suddenly thinking of a burly, masked man pressing her facedown on the living room carpet and stretching her out from behind, "the sex is amazing. He stretches me out so fucking good."

She picks up the speed of her ministrations, curling two fingers in her leaking pussy. She starts to chant curses under her breath, and jumps again when the trunk door slams back shut.

"Alright, he's out, and he's in the passenger seat. I'll start driving but you need to ask me a horror movie question now. And if you stop touching, I stop driving."

She curses under her breath again, taking a moment to pull her shorts off and spread her legs wider. At this point, her modesty is to be damned, and she slaps her puffy pussy lips a couple of times as she tries to maintain a horny edge and not be turned off by the wrong horror question. Which is tough for someone that contains multitudes.

Shaking her head, she starts to talk.

"I bet you REALLY like rape revenge films."

A beat.

"They're alright,"

"Just alright? You're forcing a poor woman whose boyfriend you're torturing to send you nudes over the phone, you'd probably be raping me in front of him if you were here,"

"Does that thought make you wet? Don't give me any ideas," he breathes out matter-of-factly.

She feels her walls suddenly tighten for the briefest moment.

"Ask your question," he prods.

She is thankful that she doesn't have to answer; she is already trying to stop getting more turned on by the depravity of the idea.

"What's the main difference between Coralie Fargeat's 2017 "Revenge" and other films in the genre like Straw Dogs and I Spit On Your Grave?"

She circles her fingers lazily around her clit as she waits.

"Revenge doesn't show the assault. Which is pretty tasteful in my opinion."

Mika laughs, drinking the last bit of wine.

"Are you really discussing the morality of that right now? A hot mid twenties girl is finger fucking herself for you... because you made her... and now you're taking a moral high road?"

His breathing deepens on the other end.

"So you're finger fucking yourself FOR ME, are you? Keep it up for me then. You're still wet, though, aren't you? It's a little different than your little rape fantasy, isn't it?"

"It's not a fantasy...," she moans out defiantly.

"But I told you to ask me a scary movie question while still touching yourself. Out of every horror movie trope you could have asked me about, you picked the one where the woman gets sexually victimized... and you didn't slow down once."

She doesn't speak for a few seconds.

"Maybe," she admits softly, stopping to lick her fingers.

"So why don't you get that dildo and think about me raping you." He adds plainly.

Again, an errant, sudden, accidental pulsing of her pussy was her body's response. And before she can even think to say anything else, she reaches for the dildo; sparkly, firm, and thick in her small hand.

"I can't even ask "if I don't?" Can I?" She asks softly, "because that's the whole point of it all."

He laughs as she slowly presses the thick head inside of her needy pussy. Mika tips her head back and moans out with every extra inch she takes.

"For the record, Brad is still very hard. You might have to have some kink talks with your boyfriend."

"We've had kink talks before," she answers too quickly.

"Maybe he's just thinking too much about a man taking you in front of him,"

"FUCK!" She breathes out, "fine, I'll do what you say, but I'm not going to cum, and you have to get Brad here quick. How close are you?"

"Closer than you think," he says simply. "How close are YOU? Keep fucking yourself with that toy for me. Imagine it's me stretching you out."

She slowly slides the dildo all the way in, moaning and cursing as her inner walls stretch out around it.

"I'm seven inches and thick. Is that bigger than Brad?"

She curses again under her breath, getting wetter at the thought of being stretched out by someone longer and thicker.

"I'll take that as a yes. Keep fucking yourself for me. I think when you cum you're going to find quite the surprise."

She picks up speed, but deliberately resists cumming. She can't let herself cum for this stranger; it'd be such a betrayal. For a few minutes it's just her whines and moans, and his deep breathing and affirmations. She squeezes her eyes shut and imagines heavy hips slamming into her, and big hands pushing her legs open, and a big cock reaching deeper than Brad ever could.

And she hears the dog bark, but pays no mind when he stops seconds later.

"Are you getting closer, Mik?"

"Just bring Brad to me," she breathes out, fucking herself faster and faster, "I'm not going to cum for you, fucking asshole," she takes one last stand of defiance. She puts the phone on speaker to massage her tits with one hand and fuck herself with the dildo using the other. She moans as a weight slams against the door, and looks desperately at the locked, but jiggling, handle.

"Did you send him? Is he here?"

He dodges the question, as she hears a key slip into the lock, both on the phone and in-person.

"You need to fuck yourself with that dildo or I'm going to come in there and make you suck your juices off of it I rail you with my fat cock."

She pulls the dildo out, sets it on the table, and looks towards the front door while biting her lip...

The front door banged open and the masked man walked in. Clad in dirty jeans, boots, and a tank top. Random splatters of what looked like blood were splotched around his body. He smirked in the direction of the living room.

"Hello, Mik," the timbre of excitement was drenched in his gravelly delivery. The man didn't even need a voice changer.

"That's not even the right mask...," she admitted absentmindedly, realizing that he was wearing some Spirit Halloween budget item. He simply smirked and licked his lips, as she felt his eyes devour her.

For a second, Mika realized she was fully on display. Naked, in the comfort of her own home, thighs wet, nipples hard, heart beating fast. That exposure rippled waves of pleasure over her body, until she settled in and realized that this wasn't just a phone call anymore.

"Where's Brad?" she asked fearfully.

"Tied up in the passenger seat," the man sneered, "don't get too jealous, now."

"Fuck you." she spat in his direction, and in a flash the man stepped forward, settling under the threshold between rooms. Mika responded in kind, backing up against the opposite end of the couch. She realized that if he wanted to, he could be on her in an instant, taking her right there. And again her body betrayed her.

"I told you on the phone," he stood in place, admiring the curves of her body, "when you cum, I'll let you see Brad."

For a brief second, Mika's hand slid down her stomach again, but then she cocked an eyebrow

"I'm not going to be some on-demand porn star for you, get the fuck out of my house," she said defiantly.

"Then I'm just going to fuck you like one," he growled and surged in her direction. She yelped, grabbed the dildo, and threw it at her pursuer, and it clipped his jaw and lip, stunning him. Mainly because of the optics. He started to laugh before shifting into a more sinister admittance of pleasure. She could see the evil energy in his eyes behind the mask, and he smirked as he rubbed a thumb over his lip, which was cracked open after the throw.

He held eye contact, and licked his own blood off his thumb, and charged again. Mika threw herself over the back arm of the couch, and escaped around the back of that furniture as he ran around the front, desperately throwing his arms out to grab her. She screamed as she dodged.

"Come back you little bitch," he sneered. She stumbled into the entryway, saw the open door to her left, and decided to run upstairs. The problem was, he was faster, and stronger, and bigger. As she reached three quarters of the way up the stairs, she felt him grip her ankle, and she fell forward, breaking the fall with her forearms.

Mika stretched forward to try and reach the top of the stairs and pull herself further, but her heart went cold as her pursuer laughed and effortlessly pulled her down and pressed himself over the top of her.

"That tit pic you sent Brad really didn't do you justice, Mik," she breathed softly into her ear, sliding a tongue out and tasting her skin. She tried to struggle back against him, but it was no help. Worse, she could feel him hardening in his jeans.

Worse still, she felt herself getting wetter.

Feral, the man reached beneath her and groped at her chest.

"Although if you had sent it to me and covered these up," he squeezed her nipple before slapping them, sending another shockwave of pleasure through her body, "I would have demanded more. I'm glad I'm about to get that,"

"Fuck you," she turned her head in his direction.

He laughed again and licked her cheek, before kissing and biting at her chin and neck.

"Fuck... you," she said, more sedated, "stop... you don't get to... kiss me like that."

He had bearhugged her from behind, groping her tits, with another arm around her stomach. She breathed out in relief when he let her go, even though his arms ended up on either side of her.

"We're going back to our game, Mik. Because you're right," he planted a kiss behind her ear, and throbbed against her when her breath caught, grabbing the back of her head to turn her face towards him again. He angled around, and breathed against her soft lips, "I shouldn't be kissing you like this."

And he planted his lips on hers. Hard. And groaned into the kiss. And Mika moaned back, before forcing her eyes open and trying to squirm away, elbowing him in the side. He just laughed while making out and moved her arm away. She felt her thighs getting wet again.

He stopped kissing her first, and she eventually slowed down, blushing.

"Like that... you shouldn't be kissing me like... that," she admitted absentmindedly.

"Head forward, Mik," he forced her to look up the stairs in front of her, "slide your hand down your stomach and start playing with your pussy for me.

"Ugh, I told you," she growled, still looking forward, "I'm not going to perform for you."

She yelped actual pain and surprise when she felt a knee in the small of her back, and heard him start to undo his belt.

"Fine, I'll just rape you on the stairs then," he said matter-of-factly. Like that was just something he did when he was bored.

"Wait wait wait," she pleaded desperately, knowing that if he actually started fucking her, that he absolutely wouldn't stop when she wanted. And perversely knowing how messed up it would be to find her tortured boyfriend after another man's cock had been inside her. Even if the bulge had felt really nice, "I'll play your game, I'll play your game."

As he relaxed his knee and let her feel less forced into place, she reached down and started playing with her clit, upset at herself that she really was imagining what it would feel like to be fucked on that stairwell.

"I'm going to ask you more horror movie trivia, and if you get a question right, you keep fucking yourself,"

"Oh gee, thanks," she breathed out, getting wetter, but no closer to finishing.

"But if you get it wrong... my hands start exploring. And if you get more questions wrong, maybe it's my mouth. And once you can't take it anymore... I'm going to fuck you. Unless at any time you cum, and this game is done. But I'll know if you fake it,"

"Yeah, I bet you have a lot of experiences with girls faking orgasms," she barbed back, and then yelped when a heavy hand came down on her ass.

"Mik, if you keep this bratty attitude up, that fat ass is going to be red when you see Brad again, which honestly at this point might be a huge turnon for you."

"Fine." She seethed. "Ask your fucking question."

"The main theme of what 1980s horror classic is featured in the closing credits of episode 7 of season two of Euphoria?" he asked.

Her mind was spacey, as she alternated between rubbing her clit and working her fingers into her pussy. She just wanted to cum and see Brad. Anything the masked man was doing carried a heavy duality to it; she was somehow appalled at his perversion, but also massively turned on.

And she hated it. She hated how wet she was, and she promised herself he wouldn't be the one to make her cum.

"Clock's ticking, Mik," he teased, slapping her again on the ass.

"I don't... I don't know, I only hate-watch that show," she admitted. He pulled off the rest of his belt, folding it on itself, "wait wait wa-," and she yelped as he slammed it down on her ass.

"I've got all the time in the world, Mik," he explained simply, "and if you choose not to answer a question I'm just going to keep hitting you."

"Okay... okay," she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember the episode.

She remembered a fourth wall break; Lexie Howard making fun of her sister Cassie's unintentional orgasm on a merry-go-round. Mika internalized how embarrassing it must be to get turned on by the wrong thing, and for an audience to see it. And her pussy pulsed again at the idea of being displayed.

Time had been slowing down all night, and she was ultimately thankful that her assailant didn't have a knife. That... pain, knifeplay, getting actually marked up... that would have changed the scene entirely. She didn't ever want that kind of pain, and there was nothing sexy to Mika about that kind of violent act of brutality, so she'd never consent to it.

There was a depravity to getting turned on by this masked man taking what he wanted from her sexually, and she'd blush as much as she'd moan if there was an audience watching. But if he were marking her up... deliberately hurting her... with any kind of weapon, and putting her on display as some object to be flayed? That was terrifying.

And it clicked for her.

"Ca... Cannibal Holocaust," she answered, slowing the circles on her clit, and trying to lay her head at some angle of comfort.

For a few seconds, it seemed the masked man was at a loss for words.

She felt him lift his weight off, hand shuffling in his jean pocket. She was surprised to see him pull out his phone, mouth gaping as he searched.

"Sorry, sir," she said sarcastically, "do you have to Google to make sure I'm right?"

His eyes coldly found hers again, and she gulped. His free arm lashed out and wrapped a hand around her throat again, and he shook his head.

"Of course you're right. Brad said you were a nerdy little cunt."

She blushed. And felt a bit smaller.

"Did he really say that?" her question was muffled by his rough hand, and he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against her ear again.

"No," he admitted softly, "Brad really loves you, and begged me not to hurt you."

His lips were like velvet, before he turned her face towards the phone camera, and took a picture of their precarious position.

"So I'm taking this with his phone so he'll remember everything that happened to you tonight regardless of what you tell him," he snarled again, "now start fing-,"

The old dog's aged bark echoed from the bottom of the stairs. He had finally come back inside.

"Fucking Mr. Bongo," the masked man sighed. Mika took this opportunity to bite his finger, and kick at his larger frame, sending him rolling down the stairs.

"Attack him, Mr. Bongo!" she ordered, before stumbling up the stairs and rushing into her room, slamming the door behind her.

She started sobbing as she collapsed against the closed door, finally coming to terms with the physical state of distress she was in. There were muffled sounds of the masked man and the dog from below, a series of curses, and the slamming of the front door, which made her jump.

She didn't know if that meant he had run away, or worse, her last line of defense had been forced outside, but she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized she couldn't hear anything at all. Taking a deep breath, she reached above her head and turned the lock of the bedroom door, giving some sliver of protection.

"You're okay. You're okay," she closed her eyes and started validating herself, "you've made it to the bedroom, you're safe here, you're surviving this experience."

She traipsed to the corner of the bed, sitting down and staring at herself in the reflection of an old mirror. There were light bruises where she had been pressed against the stairs, her eyes were puffy, and her chest was red.

And she felt so fucking pent up. For just the smallest beat, in the afterglow of safety that was the bedroom behind a locked door, she imagined what it would feel like to make up with Brad after this. How, on one level, such forceful behavior from that stranger had her absolutely drenched, ready to be used, manhandled, and stretched out, but on the other hand, she craved wrapping herself up in a blanket and being held by Brad. The purring and stirring, electric between her legs, was about as visceral as the swirl of emotions and thoughts in her head.

Mika heard the door close again, firing a glance towards the locked bedroom door, and the wall to the side of it; as if she could see what was happening through the floor and wall. Slow footsteps explored the kitchen, then stumbled towards the stairs. In her head, whoever was there was just a black, static form of a person. The footsteps moved slowly up the stairs, and her heartbeat picked up as she covered her mouth to keep from making noise.

She was so thankful the bedroom door was still locked.

"Baby?"

"Brad?" She said, teary eyed.

"... look... Mik... I am so sorry...,"

"Brad, it's okay, you're safe, I'm safe, we're okay!" She excitedly bound to the door and threw it open, and her blood chilled at what she saw.

Brad's phone was laid down right near the door, a draft of an audio message playing.

"... just feel terrible for getting in that accident, and terrible that I won't see you tonight. Please lock all the doors and stay safe-,"

She screamed as the masked man leapt out of the dark bathroom across the hall, dipping a shoulder as she tried to close the door. Mika turned on a dime and tried to run around the side of the bed, only to be effortlessly lifted off her feet and thrown onto her stomach. He grabbed her ankle and pulled her to the edge, forcing her to stay bent over.

"I told you he wasn't much of a guard dog," the man said coldly.

"Please, please whatever you're doing, don't," Mika tried her best to wrestle out of his grip, but he held her firm.

"You've been both a good and bad girl tonight, Mik," her assailant explained, "I just don't know what to do with you.

"You t-told, you said if I made myself cum you wouldn't do anything to me," she pleaded desperately as he started to unbutton and unzip his jeans.

"Well you didn't make yourself cum, did you?" he teased.

"I didn't, I didn't," she was desperate, "but I will, I promise, I'll be your good girl, please, stop it."

"That's all you have to say, Mik?" The man asked softly, "Stop? Please don't... no... nothing else? You and Brad really need a safeword...," he mused.

"We have one," she said through gritted teeth.

"You're probably going to have to use it next time you're with him after I'm done with you," he said nastily as she felt her dripping pussy get split open, stretching around his cock.

She started sobbing, and she wasn't sure if it was the lack of agency, or the pleasure, because there wasn't a lot of pain, there was just the firmness and warmth of being penetrated, and he settled into an easy rhythm.

"You're... fucking... me," she started to get dazed again, "no... fucking... condom, just please pull out, please pull out when you're do-ONE," an orgasm rippled through her body and she cursed out loud.

"Fucking hell Mik," he moaned out, "that was easy."

"I c-came," she turned her head so her cheek pressed hotly against the mattress, as she tried to see what he was doing, beyond continuing to pump in and out of her, "wasn't that what you wanted?"

"It was... but the rules have fucking changed, sweetheart," he added maliciously, "you need the attitude fucked out of you, bad." He slapped a hand down on her ass again, and she whimpered in kind.

"Please just... fuck...," the sounds of him pounding away at her pussy were obscene, "please just cum and get it over with. You can cum inside I don't care, I can't take this anymore."

He laughed.

He fucking laughed. And moaned.

"Is that all you have to say? Please finish, you can't take it anymore? So you want me to stop fucking you?"

She knew it was a rhetorical question.

She knew he wouldn't stop.

And so did her pussy.

She let out a muffled, "mh-mm."

"C'mon... sir...," she said in a daze, "isn't my tight, pretty pussy good enough for you to cum in? Don't you want to fill me up? Claim me after tying up my boyfriend?"

"Call him a cuck," he breathed out. She smiled against the bed.

"Claim me after tying up my cuck boyfriend?"

"You just want to get bred so bad, don't you?"

She shook her head, digging her fingers into the bedsheet.

"Good. Because I'm not going to breed you like this."

Questions swarmed her mind as he pulled out with a slick sound; pussy juices spraying all over. She let out a caught breath as a heavy bit of rubber landed on the small of her back. Carefully, she turned over, and realized that he had been using the dildo the entire time, as his cock throbbed in his boxer briefs, thick, long, and drenched in precum.

He caught her focusing on it, licking her lips, and he crawled onto the bed, knees on either side of her waist. Dangling the dildo in the direction of her mouth, he cocked an eyebrow.

He didn't even have to say it. She leaned her head up and engulfed the tip with her eager mouth. Mika felt her own pussy get wetter as she tasted her sweet juices on the toy. The man worked the dildo in and out of her mouth with one hand, massaging a tit with the other.

"Hand back on your pussy, right now," he ordered softly. She moaned onto the dildo and slid her left hand down, easily working three fingers in following how that same dildo stretched her.

Mika blushed, realizing that she was already close again.

"That's it," he cooed, "suck this fucking toy."

He worked the toy deeper into her mouth, and tears started to well in her eyes as she fucked herself faster. The man gently dragged his fingertips up her right arm, and loosely enveloped her hand with his.

"I can't have you suffocating on me, so if this ever becomes something you can't handle, just squeeze my hand twice.

She had no choice but to nod, and immediately after, the dildo was sliding down her throat rapidly. The man's wrist and hand worked so much quicker than anyone's hips had done in the past, and she gagged and moaned all over the wet, sticky, slobbery rubber cock.

"Yeah, you're such a fucking slut, Mik, using that pretty mouth on a fucking sex toy."

In a flash, she tipped her head back and squeezed her eyes shut, creaming all over her fingers and violently squeezing his hand.

He fucked her mouth shallower as he looked down at her soft hand squeezing hard... recognizing that there never was a second squeeze. For a second, for him, the world washed away, even though he was still absentmindedly throbbing in his underwear.

With a pop, Mika defiantly ripped the dildo from his hand and out of her mouth, swinging it against his face, knocking him to the side. She was acting on adrenaline, and bounced to her feet, stumbling out into the hall, falling down onto her hands and knees.

"You fucking cunt!" he angrily yelled, bounding after her. As he dove at her body she managed to slip ahead and start to stumble down the stairs.

She was almost home free, and was willing to take a chance on sprinting naked into the night air, finding Brad, and fighting the masked man off together.

The man ran down the stairs two steps at a time, and as Mika reached out for the door, she felt his wide chest hit her from behind brusquely, sending her flying forward. She covered her chest with her arms and closed her eyes, bracing for impact, and her heart skipped a beat as she felt his arms wrap around her as they slammed against the door.

She was insulated from the impact, and he panted as he held her.

"You...," he breathed out, "are a fucking whirlwind."

She was trying to catch her breath as well, and didn't have any strength left to try and wrestle out of the grip of his guardianship.

The man spun her around and shoved her against the door, keeping a hand at the back of her head to keep her from getting hurt. It was then that she realized he was a foot taller than her, and that his grip felt more protective than domineering. She tipped her head up, emerald eyes shining in the direction of the mask, and he smirked.

"I could fuck you up against this door, right now."

He pressed his hips against her, and she felt the bulge against her stomach.

"Hell, I could throw the door open and bend you over the porch railing. Maybe if Brad squinted his eyes he'd be able to see his little porn star getting railed.

She spat at his face.

"I'm nobody's porn star."

He slapped her. Actually hit her. And she smirked, licking her lip, and then spat again. In a flash, a big hand wrapped around her mouth and squeezed her cheeks.

"That attitude is exactly what I'm going to break in you. I could have fucked you at any time tonight,"

"Mhmmrpedmee" she corrected under his grip.

"I could have raped you at any time tonight," he said, in a sinister cadence, "but where's the fun in that? What achievement is there for me overpowering you? I beat the shit out of your boyfriend and felt nothing."

Effortlessly, he wrapped a hand around her waist, and picked her up over her shoulder.

"We're going back to the bedroom, and you're going to perform better this time."

She pounded tiny fists on his back.

"You seem like you have a pretty good taste in scary movies," he stated simply, shrugging off her blows. With force, he moved her off of his shoulder and against the wall. As her body slid down, his hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing just hard enough for her to know she would never be in control. Her hand wrapped around his forearm and wrist, and she cocked an eyebrow.

"Which is your favorite Halloween remake? Or do you like John Carpenter's the best and won't watch anything else?"

Her emerald eyes softened for a beat, then flashed cold with defiance.

"Rob Zombie's," she answered. His hand traveled from her neck to her jaw, and he crested his thumb over her lips.

"You're so good to me."

He pulled her off the wall and shoved her back onto the stairs. She instinctually pulled her knees to her chest as he stood at the bottom in front of her. Slowly, he groped his meaty cock through his boxer briefs.

Her cheeks went red as she glanced down at it.

"Crawl up the stairs for me." He ordered.

"No...," she said softly.

"You have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, be a good fucking girl for me." He sneered.

"No." She said firmer.

He grabbed her knees and spread her open, and slapped her pussy with the palm of his hand. And she fucking throbbed. Obediently, she turned onto all fours, and started crawling up the stairs, ass and hips swaying in front of his face.

"Look at you," he perved, "naked all night for a strange man you just met, putting yourself on display for him. What would Brad think?"

"He'd... he'd be embarrassed by how wet I was getting," she looked back at him for a second, before moving on.

"Would he?" The man kept palming his clothed cock. "Or would he also be turned on by it?"

Her pussy throbbed. He was so good at this. As she reached the top, He stepped over on either side of her and balled a hand in her hair, yanking her up.

She yelped in more legitimate pain, and threw an elbow in his direction.

"I love it when you fight a little bit," he growled, shoving his clothed crotch in her face. "You won't be fighting too hard with my dick down your throat."

As he reached into his boxer briefs, she quickly mumbled;

"David Gordon Green's Halloween is my favorite."

He immediately stepped back.

"You have terrible taste in movies," he said softer.

She smirked, biting her lip as she eyed his bulge. In a flash, she turned and dove towards the bedroom, and he was on her again.

"Fine. No swallowed loads for you," he bartered, "but I know you'll get wet later at the thought of kissing your man with my cum down your throat. Maybe I'll let you have my number,"

"You're such a fucking perv," she argued back, struggling again to free herself from his clutches.

"Your thighs are sticky and shiny, you little whore, you're just as pervy as I am, and I'm going to show you."

He forced her down into a sitting position, and sat behind her, grabbing the dildo from the bed above them. She saw how small she looked against him in the mirror, and felt her pussy throb again. Wordlessly, he put the dildo into her hands.

The man held her from behind, an arm lightly around her neck, and the other holding her left thigh open. He had her right ankle splayed out with his right foot as she used her dildo on her pussy. Whenever she'd look away, he'd force her chin up to stare into the mirror.

"Look at you, you fucking porn star." He growled, "Brad never gets to see it, does he?"

She felt her eyes water as overstimulation started to set in.

"I'd do this for Brad." She said through gritted teeth.

"But Brad isn't here, is he? Brad doesn't deserve to see you right now, and after I'm done with you, you won't even feel him."

"He doesn't... he doesn't deserve it," she fell into another cadence, closing in on another orgasm.

She felt the man's thick cock strain against his boxer briefs and couldn't stop imagining how it would stretch inside her - warmer, throbbing harder than her dildo. He started kissing and groping her tits, which sent her libido into overdrive.

"I'm getting c-close," she admitted, "how much more... I don't know how much more I can take, AHH-," she moaned out helplessly as his rough hand found her clit and started circling it. Her wrist worked the dildo in like a piston, and she just fucking let go.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck," she chanted as he whispered similarly naughty things in her ear.

"You just love cumming for me, don't you?" He sneered in an oddly sweet tone.

"Fuck you... oh fuck... yes... fuck. I love cumming for you,"

"That dildo feels really good, doesn't it?"

"Mhmm I'm being so stretched out sir, fuck, Brad never fucks me like this."

"You know what would stretch you out even more?"

She blushed. Hard. Then pulled the dildo out of her pussy and let it fall a few feet in front of them.

"Your cock." She whispered. He grabbed her by the back of her head and turned it to the side and he settled his lips centimeters away from hers.

"My wha-," he started to ask before her lips crashed into his. She was feral, hungry, and pent-up from being able to choose nothing all night. Violently, she bit down on his lip, smirking as he started to manhandle her again.

"Bitch," he said, almost playfully, shoving her forward on all fours and sliding his boxer briefs down his thighs. His cock sprang out proudly, shiny with precum, and he licked his lips as he admired his prey.

Her ass, heart-shaped, swayed ever so softly, and her pussy was red and sopping wet. Animalistically, he slapped an ass cheek again, before digging his fingers into her hip, and guiding his cock inside of her with one easy thrust.

"Oh fuck oh my god," she started moaning again, immediately creaming all over actual warm, throbbing, hard skin. Her face fell into her hands as she felt tears well in her eyes. It felt too fucking good.

If he wasn't lost so much in the moment of dominance, the way that Mika's cunt squeezed his heavy cock would have been milking a heavy load out of him. He slapped her ass again and kept pumping.

"Fuck yeeeees Mik. I see what Brad sees in you, fuck," he growled, pumping in and out.

"Brad should see you in me," she responded, cock drunk. His two big hands dug in on each hip, and the strength of his fucking led to loud claps echoing through the house.

"You take this dick so fucking good Mik, your pussy is fucking perfect,"

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," she mumbled out, keeping her teary face covered. Another drawn-out, squeal of a moan later, and she had cum again. The man grabbed her by the hair, more lightly this time, and lifted her up to see them in the mirror.

"Look at you crying over getting filled up," he said softly.

"I'm okay... I'm okay," she answered back, reaching underneath her body to rub her clit.

"You look so good taking this fucking dick." He praised.

"Take your mask off," she begged, bouncing her thick ass back on his cock.

His grip softened, but he kept up the pace of his fucking.

"I-I can't have you identify me to the police," he stammered.

"That's why the remakes fucking suck," she caught his eyes in the mirror, "they take the mask off too much. That's why John Carpenter's are my favorite."

He slammed to a stop, balls deep inside of her. With a deep breath, he pulled the mask off.

"That's it, Brad," she squeezed his cock with the walls of her pussy, "you did such a good job for me tonight."

Mika rocked back and forth on her knees, squeezing his cock as he pumped.

"Fuck Mik... Mika I love you so much,"

"It's okay, it's okay, we're okay," she cursed under her breath feeling another orgasm coming on, "aftercare is after, okay? I know you're about to lose it, go fucking crazy for me."

Brad groaned picking up speed, fucking her faster and harder than he was before. She loved when he got like this. Seconds later she was creaming all over his cock and he was pumping away through his orgasm, sending multiple ropes of cum deep inside of her. He moaned as each hump felt more sensitive to his softening dick, before finally pulling out and falling back onto his ass.

Mika splayed herself out onto her stomach, head against the hardwood floor, face a mess of sweat and tears, but beautiful in the afterglow. Gently, Brad placed a hand on the small of her back.

"Can I touch you?" He asked softly.

"Mhmm," she smiled. He slid both arms under her, and lifted her up to transfer her to the bed. Wrapping the comforter around her, he kissed her softly on the lips.

"I'm going to go get you some water."

When he got downstairs, he opened the door and called the dog in. As he shut and locked the door, he didn't notice the trio of strangers up the road watching the house from underneath masks of burlap sacks. Although it's not like the roleplaying lovers would be answering the door anytime soon.

He poured water for the two of them, grabbed some fruit, and traveled back upstairs to the love of his life.