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Unwelcome Visitor

By XP Author

Charles sighed contentedly as he relaxed on his sofa, his arm around his wife. The young newlyweds had been cuddling like this for most of the afternoon. A movie played on the television in front of them, the latest in some superhero movies that had just been released to streaming. The golden retriever was not really a fan of them, but his wife was, and far be it from him to deny the cute bunny something she enjoyed. Especially since it meant he got to cuddle up close with her in their pajamas. He had even behaved himself, despite her athletic legs rubbing against his all evening.

The two flinched when they heard the doorbell. His wife looked at him in confusion. "Were you expecting someone?"

He shook his head. "No." He glanced over the back of the couch. "Didn't order anything online, either..." There was a knock this time, and he sighed. "Probably some religious bullshit." He pat the bunny's leg gently as he got to his feet. "I'll go shoo them away. You enjoy the movie. Tell me if I miss anything important." He grumbled to himself as he walked towards the front door. When there was another knock, he called out, "Just a minute!" Followed by muttering under his breath. "Impatient ass." He had debated getting dressed first, but now he would be quite happy to embarrass whoever was at the door as he answered in nothing but his boxers and undershirt.

He undid the lock and pulled the door open. "Yes?" His voice held all his annoyance. Standing outside was a tall possum, wearing what looked like old clothes that barely fit him. A black hoodie, with the hood up to cover whatever hair the man had. Though the top was well worn, fraying at the edges, and stitched along the arms and front. The man's pants were not much better. A pair of baggy cargo pants with a myriad of pockets, though the few that weren't weighed down by their contents were blown out and torn. Even the man's boots were mismatched, one a scuffed up black boot, the other a military green, neither having laces. Of course, Charles barely had time to register any of these details before the man's hand shot out, jamming a blade into the canine's throat.

He stumbled backwards, his eyes suddenly wide as he tasted blood and metal in the back of his mouth. He tried to shout, but only a gurgle came from him. He staggered back a step, still not quite sure what just happened, his brain refusing to fully register the knife lodged under his jaw. His back hit the wall behind him and his legs gave out, sending him sliding to the floor as blood poured from his throat. He looked at his hands, seeing the red staining his yellow fur. He turned to look back up as the possum stepped inside, calmly closing the door behind him before looking back down at the dying dog at his feet.

Charles again opened his mouth to try and shout something, his eyes shifting to the hall that led to where his wife sat unaware of the intruder or his fate. A hand came down, closing his jaw with ease. The possum put a finger to his lips. "Shhh." The knife was suddenly grabbed, then jerked to the side to further open the gash. More blood splattered, flowing out of him at an alarming rate, soaking his shirt and fur, pooling on the floor. His vision blurred, his head dizzy. He slumped to the side as the knife was finally pulled free, trying one last time to make any attempt to warn his wife. His vision faded quickly, the last thing he saw being the homeless-looking possum turning and heading down the hall.

The possum walked away as the canine died, not really caring about him. He had come here for something else. A few things, actually. One of them was sitting in the living room, totally unaware that their boy toy just got murdered. He stepped into the room, tilting his head as he saw the movie she was watching. "Haven't seen this one."

The woman gasped as a voice she didn't recognize spoke behind her. She turned, only to gasp again at the sight of the possum. Suddenly on her feet, she slowly backed away. "W-who are you? Where's Charles?"

He blinked. "Charles? Oh, was that his name?" He hooked a thumb behind him. "He's at the front."

She looked at the hallway, then to another that led to the kitchen. "Charles!" She called out.

He stepped around the sofa, blocking her way to the kitchen. She edged around the room away from him, doing her best to keep the coffee table between him and her. "Oh, he won't be coming." He let his eyes wander across her body. She was a cute little thing. White fur, with brown splotches here and there, all covering the athletic body of someone who worked out fairly regularly. Not much else was covering her, either. A pair of pink panties clung to her hips, and a loose, silk cami in powder blue did little to hide her natural, perky bust.

She looked again at the hallway to the front, then back at the man in her living room. "W-what... did you do to him? What do you want?"

He sighed a little, stepping forward, only for her to edge away a little more. "So many questions. I haven't even answered the first one."

When he stepped forward, she suddenly grabbed a lamp from the table beside her. She held it out in front of her like it was some kind of sword. "Stay away from me! CHARLES!"

"I told you, he's not going to answer." He lunged forward. She swung the lamp at him, but the cord was still in the wall, halting her swing. It still bashed against his arm, but he just batted the thing out of her grip. His other hand shot up, grabbing the back of her head. He grunted as he shoved her forward, smashing her face against the coffee table, hard enough that the wood splintered as he put her through it. Blood erupted from her nose as it also broke, but her body went rigid, then limp. She lay on the floor, groaning slightly and panting heavily, alive but dazed.

He let out a breath, dropping down onto the sofa. "Alright. Now I can answer your questions." He started to tick them off on his hand. "First, name's Balendi. You can call me Bale. Second, your boyfriend is in the front hall in a pool of his blood. Third... well, I stabbed him, obviously." The non-reaction this got from her told him she was still too dazed from the blow to register what he was saying. He went on anyway. "Fourth, what I want... well, there's a few answers there." He took a breath and let it out quickly. "First, some food. Been a while since I had a good meal. Second, a shower. Even longer since I've had one of those. Getting to the point the smell is annoying even me. Probably wash my clothes, too." Or he could just take some of the dog's clothes. They were about the same size. "And third..." He glanced at the groaning woman, or more at her panty-clad ass. "We'll get to that later."

He watched the movie still playing while she recovered. The superhero was some vigilante in skin-tight spandex, though most of it was CGI. He chuckled. "Y'know, most of the idiots that call themselves vigilantes wear body armor. Only a real dumbass would wear a Halloween costume to fight crime. Of course, most of them also end up dying pretty quick anyway. Like that one running around east side last year. The Lead Knight or whatever his name was." When he heard her start to cry, he rolled his eyes. "Oh, quite your blubbering."

She sniffled, as best she could with a broken nose, and managed to get her tears under control and not to break down into sobs. "I'll... I'll give you whatever... you want. Please, just... just don't hurt me."

Bale grunted. "Good." He got back to his feet, reaching down to grab her long, blond hair, pulling her head up. "C'mon. Stop crying and stand up. I'm hungry, and you're going to make me some food."

She nodded quickly. "O-okay..." He let her hair go so she could get to her own feet. "W-we have some... some food in the refrigerator. It's n-not much, but..."

"It's fine." He gave her a shove once she was standing, urging her forward. "I'm not expecting a five star banquet. Oh, and before you get any ideas like grabbing a kitchen knife and trying to cut me, I've already got a knife. And I'm really good at throwing it into people's faces. I'd really rather not mess you up any more than I have, so don't make me." He actually had never done it before. It wasn't exactly balanced for throwing anyway, but the threat seemed to work.

She led him to the kitchen. Opening the fridge and pulling out a small basket full of packaged deli meat, as well as a loaf of bread, setting it all down on the counter beside the sink. "Do... you want mustard or mayo...?"

He smirked. "No. I don't bother with that shit." He pulled over a wooden chair from the nearby table, dropping into it to watch as she made the sandwich. "What's your name?" He had been watching her for the last few days. He first saw her at the grocery store. Not in it, of course, he had been sleeping in the alley behind it and just happened to wander out in time to see her. After following her home and keeping an eye on her, he still had not learned her name.

She tensed up. "W-what?"

He sighed. "Your name." The annoyance in his voice was clear. "You do have one, right?"

"O-oh... Yes. It's Miranda." She instinctively reached up to open a cabinet, to grab a plate, then froze when she heard him move. Slowly opening the cabinet, she showed it was just full of dishes. When she didn't get a knife in her back, she grabbed one of the plates, moving more slowly to set the bread and things on it.

He had only shifted slightly, smirking at her fearful reaction. "Miranda. I'm going to call you Mira."

"O-okay." She finished making the simple sandwich, holding the plate out to him. He took it, setting it down and taking a large bite. "Is... it okay?"

He smiled to himself, amused by her question. "It's fine." He took another large bite, practically shoving half the thing in his mouth. "Nah ah fah-" He swallowed and tried again. "Not a fan of white bread, but I'll take what I can get." It only took another three bites for him to finish the whole thing. "Skimped out a bit on the meat, but it'll do for now." He tossed the plate in the general direction of the sink. To his surprise, it actually landed where he aimed. Though the moment it hit the metal basin, it shattered into a dozen pieces, making the rabbit yelp in shock. "Whoops. Hope that wasn't expensive."

Mira whimpered a little. "The dishes... were a wedding gift from my mother..."

He grunted. "Then you're mother's a cheap cunt." He stood up, brushing some crumbs off of his shirt, though it did little to make it look any cleaner. "Alright. Snack's done. Where's your shower?"

"Upstairs."

He rolled his eyes. "I know it's upstairs, you dumbass. I'm telling you to show me." She nodded slowly, pushing herself up to her feet. "And if you have more than one, show me the good one."

"Okay..." She moved to the front hall where the stairs were, only to stop dead in her tracks and gasp. "Ch-Charles!?" She stared with wide eyes at the limp body of her husband, blood pooled all around him.

Bale sighed. "I told you he was dead." She started to hyperventilate, her legs shaking and threatening to give out. He planted his hand on her back and shoved her forward. "Get moving before you join him. I'm sure I could find everything on my own. The house isn't that big." She yelped, flinching at the touch, but it did seem to snap her out of her shock. Though she started to sob as she led him upstairs. It annoyed him, but he let her just have her cry for now.

At the top of the stairs was one hallway with a few doors. Most of the doors were open, one leading to some kind of home office, the other to a very sparse bedroom, one a guest bath, and the last to the master bedroom. It was the last room that she walked to, stepping inside. Mira pointed to another door in the room. "It's... in there."

"Then go turn it on. Start getting the water hot." She whimpered, but nodded and obeyed, walking into the bathroom to start the water. He nodded as he looked around the room itself. It was pretty nice. Hardwood floors with a warm greenish paint on the walls. A king sized bed with simple blue sheets, a dresser with a mirror and some jewelry, and a shelf with a bunch of books. With a quick glance, he noted most of the books were either sci-fi, fantasy, or more superhero stuff. Seems they were a couple of nerds.

In the bathroom, Mira turned the light on, wincing as it was much brighter than most of the rest in the house. The bathroom was not massive, but big enough, with a double sink and a long mirror on the wall. The shower stall was also a good size, big enough for two at least. She and her husband had both cleaned at the same time and had plenty of room. She slid the glass door to the side, turning the handle to start the water running above. When she turned around, she gasped in shock.

Bale stood at the doorway, completely naked. "What? You didn't expect me to take a shower in my clothes, did you?" He did nothing to hide any of himself from her. The possum's rough fur was filthy, matted in places. His chest had several long lines where there was no fur, scars from knife fights. Now that his hoodie was off, she saw he had long, messy hair, mostly black but with quite a bit of grey throughout. He was not exactly well-toned, a little scrawny for his stocky frame, to be expected from a homeless vagrant, but he did have some muscle. His cock hung limp between his legs, a large set of balls dangling behind it. "You should strip, too."

She flinched, suddenly very aware of just how little she was wearing. "W-what!? No! Why!?"

"Because you'll be getting in there with me. I mean, you could go in like that, but then you'll just be in wet clothes." When she gave him a confused look he chuckled. "What? You think I'm just going to let you stay out here while I wash up? Let you get some weapon, call the cops, or run away? You think I'm that stupid?"

"N-no... I-I..."

He continued. "I mean, unless you want me to tie you up. You into that kinda kinky shit?"

She shook her head quickly. "N-no! I-I'll... I'll get in..." She stepped into the shower, wedging herself into the corner away from the door. Her top quickly got soaked, sticking to her and showing the clear outline of her breasts. It made the whole reason she kept it on rather pointless.

He just rolled his eyes, following in after her. "Suit yourself." He shut the door and turned to face the showerhead, his back to her. She saw more scars along his back, as well as on his thick tail. The water running off of him was almost brown, washing who knows how much filth off of him. "Fuck, this feels nice. Been forever since I had a good shower." He just let himself stand under the hot water for a moment, enjoying the feeling. Once the water running off of him started to clear, he looked around, finding a bottle of shampoo. After squirting some onto his hand, he held the bottle out. "Here. Start washing my back for me. Can't quite reach there myself anymore. Not as flexible as I used to be."

He worked the shampoo into his front, until it started to lather. He was about to turn to tell her to hurry up when he felt the shaky hand against his back. She barely touched him, not really washing. "Oh come on. My fur won't bite you. Just fucking scrub a bit. It's not that difficult." She whimpered softly, but did work her fingers into his fur a little better. "There you go. You have a pretty soft touch. What exactly do you do?"

"W-what?" She was confused by the normal question and his conversational tone.

"You're job. What do you do?"

She just blinked a few times. "I-I'm... I do tech support..."

"Really? I would have thought you did something that pays better." He started to lather his hair a bit. "With soft hands like that, I would have thought you were a masseuse or something." He felt her hands fall away. "Oh come on, you're not done ye-" His words were cut off as she suddenly was on his back, an arm wrapped around his neck in an attempt to strangle him.

"Still think my hands are soft!?" She shouted as he gripped at her arm. She braced one leg against the far end of the shower to try and hold him. His tail thrashed, bashing against her thigh. "Die, you fucking... piece of... shit!"

He gripped at her arm, then leaned forward, a move she was not expecting. It pulled her just off balance enough that he was able to shove himself backwards, slamming her against the wall. She cried out, her grip suddenly loosening. The moment he was free, he turned and planted his fist squarely into her stomach with enough force to knock the breath from her. She crumpled to her knees, gasping to try and get her breath back. He gripped her sodden hair, yanking her head up, only to smash it down against his knee. She bounced off, slumping to the floor, blood again running from her nose.

Bale ran a hand over his hair, brushing it out of his face as he stared down at her. A big grin spread on his face as he panted. "I gotta admit. That was pretty good. Your insults need work, though." He leaned down, his hand suddenly gripping her neck and squeezing. "Let me show you how to do it properly."

Her eyes shot open, and she started to struggle. Her hands gripped at his wrist, trying to pull him off, but he had a good angle to keep her pinned down. She tried to kick and squirm, but there was not much room to move in the shower stall. Blood started to rush in her ears as her lungs screamed for air, already lightheaded from the gut punch earlier. She looked up at him with wide, bloodshot eyes, full of terror. They only grew more fearful as she saw the wild grin on his face, enjoying her struggles. Black and white spots invaded her vision, swirling before her in wild, chaotic patterns as they dominated her view. Yet, before the darkness finally took her, she was still able to see the wild, manic, demonic grin upon the man.

* * *

Mira winced, some wrong feeling tugging her back to the land of the living. Many things felt wrong. She was cold, her fur still wet. Her arms hurt, especially her wrists, which tingled and felt numb. Something was wrapped around her wrists, biting into her flesh with how tight it was. Her legs were the same, ankles sore and numb. What felt the most wrong was between her legs, a feeling her mind adamantly tried to refuse it was feeling. It was not pleasure, though her body was responding to the stimulation as if it was anyway.

She tried to deny herself waking, but she could not resist it. The feelings were too much to ignore. She whimpered, already knowing what was happening before she was fully awake again. Her hands and feet were tied, leaving her spread eagle on her own bed. She had been stripped naked, but not dried off, the sheets under her soaked from the water still clinging to her wet fur. A pair of hands were gripping her breasts, squeezing them painfully. A warm body was pressed close, one she knew was not her husband.

She also knew the cock repeatedly plunging into her was not her husband's either. It was the possum, his grunts filling her ears. She whimpered again, feeling tears stinging at her eyes, but she could not even bring herself to cry properly. She wished he had just finished the job in the shower, killing her then and there. This was so much worse. "Finally awake?" She tensed up as he spoke, her body shivering. "Good. It's not as fun when you're totally limp." He grunted. "I mean, sometimes it is, but I would have just sliced you up like that dog if I wanted that."

"Please... stop..." Her voice was weak, barely over a whisper. She knew he wouldn't. He just laughed darkly, not even bothering to respond to the pitiful plea. Instead, his pace picked up, his cock thrusting deeper into her. She tensed up more, clenching her fists, though it did not help the numb feeling in her fingers. He was not as big as Charles was, or even as thick. He also lacked the knot she had grown to enjoy. But she knew what the twitching meant. It was not long before she felt him release, squeezing her eyes shut and clenching her jaw as the warm, sticky seed shot deep into her. A lot of it, filling her to the point it leaked out around his shaft while he continued to pump more.

Bale grunted as he thrust several more times, emptying his balls into her. "Ah... there you go. You're the first warm hole I've fucked in a long time." He pulled out to let a few more shots splash onto her belly. "Pretty good. Kinda expected a dog fucker's cunt to be more worn out, but you were still tight. Guess he didn't fuck you that often." She didn't correct him. She just wanted him to finish what he wanted and get out of her life forever.

He used her tits to wipe his cock off, though quite a bit of cum still drooled from the tip as he stood up, dripping onto the floor. "Well, my old clothes are pretty fucked up." He opened the closet. "Let's see if any of your dear boy toy's stuff fits." He rummaged through the various clothes, tossing most of them over his shoulder once vetoed. "Business suits, t-shirts... what is this, a bowling shirt? Don't you have anything for cold weather?" She didn't answer. It was the middle of summer, so the cold weather stuff was further back in the closet. He did seem to find it. "Here we go." He pulled out her husband's old winter jacket. "The fuck is this? A bomber jacket?" He tossed it to the floor with the rest and went back to his search.

He did seem to finally find something that he liked, or at least tolerated enough to wear. A long-sleeve t-shirt in black, a pair of brown denim pants, and a light jacket with a bunch of pockets. He started to transfer the stuff from his old pants into the jacket's pockets. "Well. This was fun, but I think it's time I leave." He stood up and stepped over. "I'm going to raid your fridge again, of course. Fucking you worked up my appetite." He reached out to turn her head to face him. "Oh, but don't worry. I won't leave you without one last little thing."

She expected him to lean down and kiss her or something. Instead, she felt a sharp pain in her side, just above her hip. "There." He pulled the knife out of her side, wiping the blood off on her breast. "If you're lucky, should only take you an hour or so to bleed out. Then you can be with your dear husband again."

She looked down, seeing the blood slowly leaking out of her, soaking into the bed. She felt short of breath again, panting as panic started to grip her. "N-no... no p-please!" She looked up as he started to walk away. "No! Please! D-don't leave me like this!" He didn't even bother responding, just smiling to himself as she started screaming. At first, it was screaming for help, then just screaming for the sake of it. He even heard her in the kitchen, though it was unlikely anyone outside could hear it. Still... It was quite lovely music to make a sandwich to.

* * *