The Intruder

Also available in German
Der Eindringling

Jo lived a solitary life. Vytina became her second home. There, she bought a piece of land next to the cotton fields and settled in very modestly. She owned several horses, sheep, chickens, two donkeys, and a couple of cats, who were always looking after her, waiting for a few strokes and food. Every evening, she would sink into her armchair in front of the fireplace, drinking a cup of Greek mountain tea, feeling complete with another cat on her lap and the healing purr in her ears. She had a destiny; she came into this world to fulfill a purpose, giving her the utmost satisfaction. The animals became her source of meaning, even if it meant cutting herself off from society and living in solitude; she knew this was the right decision, a certainty that always brought her peaceful nights.

Sometimes, however, she longed to be touched and dreamed of strange men who claimed her body and gave her the greatest pleasure. It was only natural that these wishes manifested themselves. In her mid-thirties, desire simmered inside her like the taming flames before her eyes. But Jo knew how to help herself, and in moments of extreme ecstasy, she spread her thighs and let one finger after the other disappear into her starved vagina. The crackling of the fire and the scent of wood comforted her, making her caresses feel like those of another person. She closed her eyes, fantasized about numerous cocks, and fingered her opening with so much devotion that she felt completely filled. Everything that had once been imagined came to life in Jo’s world. The men she fantasized about were real men, the cocks she felt inside her were big, strong, and tasted like wild mushrooms, the tongues that explored her mouth left a comforting warm wetness, a wetness that she spread between her lips, and when she came, when she sent her orgasm into the fire, it was huge hands that stroked her rosy cheeks.

With that feeling, Jo said goodbye to another day that lulled her into contentment like any other and headed to her bedroom. She looked one last time into the faded light of the candle resting on the bedside table before blowing it out and closing her eyes.

The neighing of the horses woke Jo from her sleep. Why are the animals so restless? That could only mean one thing: someone must have gained unauthorized access. Perhaps a fox? Still half delirious, she pricked up her ears but remained frozen under the blanket. The door creaked open. Now, she could hear it very clearly. Someone was walking around her house. Footsteps approached, and Jo’s eyes widened as someone suddenly slapped his hand over her mouth and leaned over her. She wanted to scream, but the hands absorbed her voice; she wanted to fight back, but the man lay on top of her. He was wearing a mask. The smell of cold smoke and wet leather flooded her half-covered nostrils. Jo frantically tried to reach for the candle but couldn’t under his weight. “Shhhh, Shhhh,” he hummed in her ear, grabbing her wrists to tie them to the bed frame. Jo was completely at the mercy of the intruder. She could only recognize his steel-blue eyes under the black wool mask and hairy hands, which sealed her lip with tape.

When he opened his fly and ripped up her nightgown, she knew there was no escape. He would rape her and abuse her body to his heart’s content. She felt a warmth spreading through her abdomen at this thought, a warmth that didn’t go unnoticed by either of them. When the intruder immersed his cock into her with a first violent thrust, he succeeded effortlessly, for Jo was as wet as the Mylaon River. His pupils dilated, he stared at Jo, who was joyfully bathing in bliss. She circled her hips and rolled her eyes with each deep thrust into her welcoming vagina. She had longed for it so much that she didn’t care who the stranger was or how he took it from her. He invaded her property as he was now invading her most sacred possession. The man was completely overwhelmed by her devotion and began to slap Jo, because, after all, he thrived on the thrill of raw rape. He wanted a victim and not a lustful nymph. But this seemed to excite Jo all the more. Her insides seethed, and the warm juice flowed out of her. His movements became faster and more intense; his firm spear pierced her tightness, which wrapped around his length like a silken glove. He felt heavy contractions and perceived her orgasm, one after the other, as he alternately abused her rosy cheeks and her fiery opening. Jo loved every thrust that filled her and every stroke, shaking her back to life, sparking her passion as only the men in her fantasies could.

Jo was only vaguely aware of what happened next. The intruder clutched her neck and penetrated her so intensely that she half lost consciousness. But she could hear him working his way to climax. The moment she lay there motionless and no longer stretched towards him, the size of his cock doubled. Long, deep thrusts filled her juicy vagina like a knife piercing a bloody wound. With a feral scream, he spurted his seed into her before the strings around her wrists loosened and footsteps faded into the darkness.

The next morning, Jo woke up later than usual; she could tell by the gradient of the sky, which already heralded midday. She jumped out of bed and looked out the window. It seemed the same as always; only her two donkeys were staring at empty hay nets. With a grin, she straightened her nightgown and noticed tender welts on her wrists. Wasn’t this all just a dream after all? Like a girl on Christmas morning, she hurried to the bathroom and squatted on the lavatory pan. White foam dripped from her vagina, and she couldn’t deny the slight burning sensation. This man was here and abused her; an intruder who had awakened her most hidden desires. How wonderful, she thought and secretly hoped he would come back again. Perhaps she would pretend she didn’t like it just to feel his tremendous arousal inside her once again.