She first came to me at the darkest point of the night, when the twilight had finally left and the deep black of the sky outside, tainted with only a brush of blue, was all I could see out of my window. The night had been warm, too warm in fact, the windows left open as my curtains moved back and forth in what paltry breeze there was. I tried to sleep, covers thrown back and clad only in some pajama trousers, to rest after the long stressful day, my mind racing in circles, a daze from the stresses of this exceptional time. The usual tricks didn’t work – breathing, trying to settle. I was about to consider a more physical method of relaxation when I saw Her.

It was out of the corner of my eye I began to see Her. At first, a pitch-black shape, large and vaguely humanoid, standing on my landing, looking in through the wide-open door of my bedroom. There should have been light behind her, a hint of blue showing the first signs of dawn that signified I had stayed up too late but there was nothing. Just pure pitch black that drank in the world around her.

Slowly, she stepped forward, the floorboards creaking as she came through the door, filling the space. As my eyes adjusted I could see she wasn’t a void – there was a sheen to her, like latex, a sheen that reflected the glow of my watch and my bedside table. That sheen came closer and closer until she towered over my bed. She looked over seven foot tall to me, her blank black face looking down past her breasts as she stared at me. I could hear her breathing, hearing it’s slow steady pace as she stood. Watching my body as it lay there, immobile.

I’m still not sure why I couldn’t move. All I could control had been my eyes, widened with fear as the apparition came closer and closer. Now she was standing over me, letting me see her full figure, the curves of her breasts and hips outlined close enough that I could have touched it normally had my hands obeyed me. This was when the panic set in. The primal fear, the realization that this might be the end, at the claws of some ancient monster that found me.

As if prompted by my terror, the apparition moved onto the bed. She clambered gracefully, the mattress depressing as she knelt on it, letting one knee rest as the other moved so she straddled me. I could feel her above my stomach, my eyes watching as her groin descended towards my face. She paused, letting herself rock back to rest her behind on my stomach. She was definitely covered in latex, the realization unleashing the fetishist in me, and I could feel the lubricated surface as she moved her titanic body back and forward.

At the same time, as I lay there immobile, her hands came up to play with my head and neck. They were large hands, strong hands, gliding over me, talons that resembled fingers playing with my short hair, stroking my scalp before trailing down my neck. Her other hand seemed to explore my face, fingers pressing into my nose, squeezing it closed before moving onto my mouth. I felt a thumb slide between my lips and then a finger. She tasted…well there was the tang of latex but it felt like she was coated with something. Something sweet, something that made my mind melt slightly. The fog it caused was short-lived – her fingers left, returning up to gently stroke my hair, gripping my scalp.

And then her hands tightened, on hand pulling my head up slightly, the other grabbing my throat. I could feel the muscles beneath the latex flex, feel the strength of the hands that were cutting off my oxygen. Reflexively, I opened my mouth to breathe…

And that was when she moved, her whole body rising up as she slid me, like a toy, further down the bed. Before I could breathe properly, there was a warmth wrapped around my mouth and nose, a sweet taste dribbling through my lips. She was not sitting on my chest, but instead, her behind was merely resting on me as she gently but firmly pulled my head in deep to her pussy. Her slit felt the same as the rest of her—slick latex, all the way in—but there was a trickle of fluid, a warmth to it.

As I licked, it was electric on my tongue and soon I was lapping like a frantic dog, my tongue the only part of me that could move. I was a man possessed, not helped by the hands gripping my head, the fingers and thumb stroking my scalp as I ate out this creature that had invaded my space. I should have been terrified, appalled at myself, fearful of what was happening. But for those moments, my mind was filled with one need, one scent. Even when, after what felt like hours, after I’d worked every part of the body presented to me, she finished, her hands gripping me tight enough that I saw stars, her juices releasing onto my face, I felt a sense of elation.

But it seemed she was not done. She wanted something else. Before I realized, she was sliding backwards, letting her smooth body glide across me. One of her hands stayed on my head, gently stroking it in a soothing, almost motherly way, but the other grabbed hold of my pajama bottoms. With a tearing sound, I felt her rip my clothing away with relative ease before a warm, rubbery texture wrapped itself around my recently released cock.

I could feel the strength in her hand as she gripped and stroked, her sharp thumb playing with the head for a few moments as it spread the glistening liquid that slowly dribbled out around it. I groaned at her touch, my brain trying to make me buck in response but I still couldn’t move. Worse, now she was sitting on me, I wasn’t sure if it was paralysis or just the weight of this latex goddess that was sitting on me. Everything about her was large and muscular—I could feel her thighs shift and move at the side of my body, her backside pressing into my stomach.

I risked a glance upward, up into the black abyss, and was surprised to see a hint of white shining out of what would be the center of this creature’s face. It looked like there had been a cut in the outer layer, the black pieces spreading out like the petals of a demonic flower. Inside the cut however was perfectly white skin, the color of pure stainless chalk. I could see thin dark lips across those features, the hint of pearl-white teeth beyond it. But I was distracted by the other feature I had failed to spot before—this creature had horns—coming from the top of her head, symmetrical horns that curved outward before coiling back to sit either side of her head, their points facing forward.

I was pulled from my inspection of this creature when suddenly I felt the head of my cock resting against the warm wet slit between her large, muscular thighs. There was a velvety softness to it as I got closer and closer, one of her hands already helping once more to guide me into position like a parent who would teach their child how to ride a bike. I moaned again as she grazed the head of my cock, but I was quietened by the return of her fingers to my mouth.

To begin with they just rested between my teeth, but as she lowered herself (my cock separating her smoothly) she started to play more with her hand. Picking and prodding inside my mouth, pressing on my tongue before running her thumb between it and my teeth letting me feel the rubber catch on them. It felt rough, controlling, the sign of how much influence she had over me.

I would have complained, but she was starting to move her lower body. Her passageway gripped my cock like a vice, letting me feel her contours as she ran across my own. Several times, I could feel my hips begin to lift, almost breaking the spell she seems to have me under but then she would slam back down, her body seeming to push me further into the mattress and into the sweaty outline of my shape.

After a while, once her thrusts had gained a rhythm, the hand that had guided me into her came up to grab my face, pressing my head into the pillow as she worked harder and harder. I could hear the wet latex run across my face, feel the damp on my cheek and the way her fingers scraped the top of my throat when she brought herself down on me. She made no sound, just a few changes in breathing at a particularly strong thrust, even those small, warm huffs of air were enough to make every hair on my body stand whenever it struck my skin like a gentle, eldritch wind.

My eyes were distracted however, staring up through the gaps in her hands at the white in the darkness, the thin mouth with its dark lips. It was visited by a long black muscular tongue, its length populated by small outcrops of flesh that flexed as it moved, licking her lips and tasting the air. Her breathing had become stronger and faster, that feeling of excitement. I lost all sense of time, my only focus being on the way my body was being used by this … Goddess.

I struggle to call her anything else. Now I focused on her, I could see she was glorious. Tall and strong, her chest far larger and far more gravity-defying than any human I had ever seen. Her body too was packed with muscle—I could feel the rack of her abdominal pressing against my stomach, the flex in her arm as biceps and triceps worked to grab my face and move it with her actions. And all of it clad in what could only be described as perfect latex. No air bubbles, no unintended areas of dull among the shine. Feeling her flex as she moved made me harder, and the visuals made it harder still.

Eventually, she reached a peak speed, her thighs slamming into me again and again. As I felt her release, the warmth coating my cock and trickling out onto my groin, she leaned forward, her head next to mine. Pain echoed through my cheek, just for a moment, as one of her horns scraped a gouge just across my cheekbone. I would have screamed in pain, but instead, she slammed herself down on me again and again until I released. All I could do was whimper, the twin sensations of pain and pleasure dueling in me as bucked up into her embrace, over and over until I was spent.

As my brain started to collapse with all the sensation, I could remember the feeling of her hands once again stroking my face and hair, the feel of her breath warm on my face. I should have been terrified, part of me was, but instead there was a sense of comfort to the way I was treated before I passed out.

When I woke the following day, the sun was shining in through the blinds, the birds chirping away as I groggily sat up, the sheets feeling cold from how much I must have sweat last night. I was relieved to feel my limbs move, control returned to me. For a moment, I assumed my experiences from the night before had been just stress dreams or illusions. However, this idea was undone when I looked down at myself. My pajamas had been shredded just as they had been by her, the fabric spread across the bed. A small hiss escaped my lips when I rubbed my cheek in confusion before quickly lifting it away, bringing it back again to trace the small upwards cut across my skin, already covered in the thin line of a scab. It took me a few moments to recover, my eyes roaming, watching every shadow in case she was still there.

Even as I write this, I still feel that day’s emotions painfully. Confusion and shock at it being real but also a sense of sadness. I had been alone for most of the situation, so this “Intrusion” of a creature into my life had been unexpected but not unwelcome. I was unsure if the creature … or rather She, would return … but some part of me was very interested in the prospect.

Luckily I would not have to wait long.

THE END