1. The Mission

    Date: 5/31/2020, Categories: Fiction / Fantasy Alien, Bestiality First Time Teen Rape / Violence / Cruelty Author: ufpe, Source: sexstories.com

    The Mission
    Beneath the I-12 underpass, the huddled form was barely visible in the twilight as I headed home from stocking up on a few essentials before the predicted storm front arrived. Wrapped in a black garbage bag clutching a small second generation handbag, the hapless figure beneath the overpass was well suited for a homeless poster but ill equipped for the torrential rain predicted. Pulling my aging Merc as close as possible, I literally drug the lifeless form into the back seat before easing back into traffic as a strong wind gust heralded the storms arrival. My intention of dropping the ragged bundle at a nearby homeless shelter, was irretrievably altered by a lightning strike close enough to make the fine hairs on my neck stand on end followed by a peal of thunder that evoked my survival instincts. Cranking up the heater, I guided my aging friend to the secure carport several minutes away while dodging the newly forming puddles.
    Once parked, I sat for a brief eternity to calm my shattered nerves until the memory of the homeless figure in the back seat spurred me back to reality. Grabbing the bag of groceries, I pulled my lifeless passenger across the concrete floor and struggled to drag us into my warm apartment where I collapsed into my favorite chair amidst the thundering rain. After a brief respite, I studied the bedraggled guest on the floor of the entryway and wondered briefly if a quick call to local law enforcement might have been more appropriate. A muffled groan spiked my adrenaline, and I rushed over to assist. Gently removing the flimsy plastic raincoat, I instantly became aware my guest was female, maybe in her early thirties (hard to tell through all the caked grunge), and in critical need of a complete wardrobe makeover. Gently removing her outer garb, I removed her holey soled shoes; her feet were a painful testimonial to too many hard tread miles.
    Wrapping her arm around my shoulder, I gently brought her to her feet for the short jaunt to the bathroom. Completely compliant, she wordlessly stumbled beside me clad in only the bare essentials necessary to maintain her modesty; a moth eaten t-shirt and holey panties that barely clung to her anemic hips. I started the bath water and went into the master bedroom to retrieve some of the clothing I had sentimentally retained of my deceased wife. Returning to the steamy bathroom with an armload of threads, I found my guest exactly as I left her staring at the gradually increasing pool of bath water. I gestured for her to remove her remaining clothing and get into the water as I gathered her rags and left her to her own devices. Throwing some hot water on the stove for soup, I considered my options before flipping on the tube to get acquainted with the storm's progress. A funnel had been sited nearby.
    Several minutes passed, and I could still hear the water running, so I eased out of my chair and slowly opened the bathroom door to check on my guest. She was sitting in ...