Yento's Bedtime Stories: The Intruder of Miss Roger's Seattle Neighborhood or Why Good Girls Should Listen to Mommie Dearest and Lock Their Doors (or Perhaps Disobey to Get What They Want?).

The Intruder of Miss Roger's Neighborhood
The pink summer sun was slowly setting on the (Western Washington) Cascade Mountains, as I entered no; you entered your warm view apartment in the Greenwood neighborhood in Seattle just West of Green Lake.
The descending sun reminded you of the golden eyes of past gone or m-worded (married) lovers in the morning sun after a night of passionate lovemaking on Shabbat (the weekly Jewish religious holiday running from Friday night at nightfall to sundown on Saturday evening).
Carrying the two bags of groceries from Yento’s Kinky Supermarket, like two loaves of bread to be eaten later, against your heaving breasts, you hear the phone ring from outside the apartment. Scrambling to unlock the door, like clothes before a lover you haven't seen in a week, you feel the bags heavy against your chest like your heart, your loneliness, your breasts, your morals. Distracted, you quickly unlock the deadbolt (and foolishly [of course, otherwise, I wouldn’t be telling this story] leave it unlocked), then drop the bags like common sense on the kitchen counter and race to pick up the phone.
It's your mother.
"Oh, submissive female slut name, I'm glad I reached you. (Seattle) King 5 (TV station) just had a special report about a kinky molester who escaped from Monroe's sex offender unit," she exclaimed breathlessly.
"He is described as a normal looking, reasonable HWP, vertically challenged (5' 5") Peter Sellers look-a-like (me?) with baby blue eyes, slightly receding short brown hair, plenty of chest hair (to run your fingers through and fondle), glasses, and a set of natural teeth who likes (fill in a description about yourself) to ravish and molest, everywhere."
"So make sure you lock your door, (your name). This deviant doesn't care who they molest: male, female, or somewhere in-between, slut or virgin, pleasantly erotically plump, HWP, old or young, breast cancer survivor, disabled, pretty, married or single, gold star lesbian, bi or straight, etc. No one is safe. No one. Anything that moves is fair game!"
"Oh, mother", you exclaim in frustration, looking at the two bags on the kitchen counter leaning against each other like a couple with their warming frozen food inside, " it's the fifth time you've called this week. I live in a secure neighborhood and who would possibly want me?" as you finger your left nipple and feel some wetness, arousal between your meaty thunder thighs (you think) and a flushness to both your eating cheeks.
You wonder what it would be like to be taken forcefully, fondled, and interrogated about your sexual history or lack of it, examined thoroughly like in a doctor's office, roughly stripped as if searched in a surprise customs inspection, spanked, kissed as you protest and feeling like Scarlett in Gone with the Wind, then exposed and undressed like a sultan's slave-girl for the intruder's pleasure.
The thought of being undressed and molested makes you want to get your vibrator out and play with yourself but the warming groceries and your parent's stern voice distracts you. Hanging up after promising you'll be good and lock all your doors and windows, mommie dearest, you walk back to your front door by the now open closet. You don't remember leaving the closet door open.
Turning, you lock the front door, only to hear the rustle from the dark closet, a body against yours, hand across your mouth, thrown and pressed against the wall, and feel their hardness against your rear valley (is it a woman with a strap-on or a man?), feel their other hand explore your body like the time you let your lover blindfold you and explore your sweaty body, in every way and opening.
You never told your lover how much it excited you to feel helpless, a blind girl or boy or human being (aren't we being PC but discriminating against Farengi?) while your lover's hands, finger, toes, fingers, tongue, breath, and vivid imagination massaged you. You didn't want them to know how kinky, submissive, and slutty you were.
Turning you around, pressing his hairy chest against your rising nipples, your erect bodacious tatas, you look into the intruder's eyes and see your future molester look at you the way a hungry animal looks at prey. Something to be played with, teased, "tortured", and eaten, in more ways than one.
"What do you want?" you stammer as you try to cover up your slightly unbuttoned blouse to the hilly valley between your drooping oranges, waiting to be plucked, showing some cleavage. Thinking about how you forgot to wear your “Taken" by Calvin Klein panties with the label inside them instead of out. It seems like everything is out these days. What will the intruder think or say when they discovers them?
"You," he states without hesitation as he aggressively undresses you with his hungry eyes. His hands begin to caress your buttocks. You protest by trying to turn away. You feel your white cotton stockings rub against his legs like a pussy wanting some attention from their owner. You're not that kind of girl. What kind of a man would do such things? You feel his hot breath against your ears, his probing tongue lick them before moving to enter your mouth like a spelunker, and the gradual change of sensation in your loins.
"Please don't," you cry as you try to push him away. "I'm a virgin and (fill in the blank)."
"Then it's your lucky day, Miss. I prefer virgins," he replies as begins to fondle your face with some of his nimble fingers while pressing his half a foot plus one inch (7") of pleasure against you and caressing your ass with the others.
The clean-cut permanently 39+10+ year old Jewish and former Yeshiva student intruder tells you, no commands you to obey or they'll have their way with you anyway. However, if you do a submissive strip tease for them, and let them masturbate against your ass or leg, nipple fuck you everywhere, and come all over your breasts, that's all that will happen.
But you know it's not true.
You know from reading the news reports that if you even try to escape, your punishment will be severe. You'll feel your hands be restrained or tied up into the small of your back, your panties pulled down roughly, spanked soundly for resisting, and feel the blood rush to your naked or panty clad ass.
Perhaps you’ll be, exposed, stripped, verbally humiliated based on your romance books, toys, lingerie ("slut lingerie, you're told), pictures taken, penetrated with condom-covered toys including your same sex roommates toys that you didn't know they had, hear him/her read porno while you're all tied up and can't do anything about it, and maybe forced to play strip poker or Dreidel or even a simple toss of the coin.
The last victim according to King 5 played flip the coin and was molested based on what side the coin ended up on, heads or tails, heads (front) or tails (back) and then flipped again if the coin showed a little tail to determine whether they would be molested front (head) or back (tail.)
There is nothing you can do. Except get aroused. And beg him “stop” while secretly hoping he won’t. And maybe for the first time in your life, let yourself go. Like a bad girl. Most of the time, you'll be blindfolded and won't notice your roommate enter the room, only to be captured and tied up as well and forced to participate and your molester will end up taking pictures of your submission to whitemail (gotta be PC here, folks) you for further activities. And like what is between your Calvin Klein jeans and yourself, there is nothing you can do.
Nothing.
Copyright 2003-2006 by Switchable Yento of Seattle. All Rights Reserved.

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