Catherine Bates stared at herself hard in the bathroom mirror. She was tired. It had been a late night. Work had been rough. Her boss, John Stevens, had once again dumped a huge pile of paperwork on her desk at the last minute, ordering her to stay until it was finished. She remembered watching everyone else leave as she sat at her desk, crunching numbers and looking over accounts. The office had been empty and dark, save for her one lamp turned on at her desk. The whole thing had taken her 3 hours passed closing time. The stars had been long since out when she finally left the office. Mr. Stevens had not stayed with her.

" God what an asshole. Well that's what happens when you're not friends with the boss" she said to herself with a touch of fatalism in her voice.

The visage in the mirror only stared back, the shadow of a grimace formed along the lips and stress marks beginning to form along the eyes.

Cate sighed.

"The things I have to do for Danny," she whispered. She turned her head to the cracked plaster ceiling of her bathroom thinking about her seventeen-year-old son.

"In five years he'll be out of college and I can quit that shitty job, but...until then..."

Cate sighed again. She felt like a shower, a nice hot shower to slowly wash all of her troubles away and forget the awful, but all too typical day she had. Wistfully she slipped off her brown business skirt and plain white blouse, watching the clothes tumble to the ground before her.

She slipped off her bra and panties, setting them to the side, as she looked herself over in the mirror. She shook her long dirty blonde hair in front of the mirror, admiring her deep hazel eyes and freckled nose. Slowly she slid her arms up and down her body, down her muscular legs and hips with a just a hint of fat around them. She detected only the slightest sagging in her thick pancake breasts. The sensation felt good. For a woman of forty-two she was in good shape. She'd eaten well and exercised regularly enough. This much was evident under her close scrutiny.

"Girl you can go places!" she said to herself with a chuckle. Then she stopped and in a lower, more somber tone, she added "Girl you need to get laid. What has it been? Two years? Ever since that dead beat father just disappeared from the house?"

She sighed, turning her attention to the bathtub and the showerhead, turning the knobs, making sure the water was extra hot before stepping in. The water felt good as she stared up at the showerhead and rubbed her hands over her naked form. Her hands felt good on her. The rubbing motion seemed to push away all the stress she had felt from the day's work.

But she still felt a penned up inner tension. And her mind knew just how to relieve it.

She twisted around in the stall and moved her hands to her breasts. Slowly she began to massage them in careful, circular motions. They stiffened up accordingly. God she needed this. She found her left hand slipping down towards her waste, her cunt. She took two fingers and stuck them up the opening. Slowly and carefully she moved the fingers in and out, paying special attention to her clitoris. It felt so good. Her back involuntarily arched backwards and her waste bucked back and forth, back and forth in strong, repetitive rhythm. She needed this, she needed it so bad and it helped. She slowly felt some of her frustration seep away. Her mind focused on the feeling. Her muscles tightened and relaxed, over and over, carefully connected with her hand motions at her clit. She smiled. The sensation was wonderful. Her juices slipped down onto the bottom of the bathtub, her moans subdued by the sound of the running water.

Cate was so busy pleasuring herself she didn't notice the strange thick fluid that came through the showerhead. Carefully flowing out it anchored one of its transparent appendages to the piping and used the remaining ones to extend itself towards Cate's back turned body. It had already wrapped a clear gelatin tendril around her neck when the realization crossed her and the attempted scream climbed to her lips.

The tentacle fixed around her neck choked her at the critical moment and cut the sound off. All that came out was a small puff of air. It let go of the wall piping and began to constrict itself around her neck.

She struggled. Her hands pulled desperately at the tightening appendage. She pulled hard, moving about violently and tripping over the bathtub lip. Her body crashed to the floor, pulling the shower curtain down with her and wrapping her in it. Her naked breasts rocked to and fro as she rolled along the floor and pulled with all her might on the appendage gradually tightening around her neck. Her milky white legs kicked wildly trying hard to do something. But it was strong, very strong. She couldn't breath. She couldn't breath. She needed to breath. Her struggles were becoming more irregular. Her lungs burnt hot inside her body.

*Oh God I am going to die, I am going to die, Oh... Danny * ran through her head as her energy to resist slowly ebbed away. Her motions were slower now, less regular, her mind gasping for air. With a last slow heave she blacked out, her body lay motionless face up on the floor. The creature held the tendril in place around her neck for several more moments before slowing relaxing it. From there it worked fast. With amoeba like extensions it worked its way towards her upturned face and flexed itself over it. It extended two little tentacles out to the ears while the core of the body worked its way through her nose. Slowly the mass shrank as it forced itself into her body. In a matter of moments it was fully inside.

There was silence. Cate's body lay motionless on the floor. The only true sign of life from her was the slow and rhythmic rising and dropping of her chest. Her body was breathing now. Up...and down...up...and down. Many long moments passed in this way. Suddenly Cate's body began to convulse violently on the floor. Her arms and legs and whole body spasm as her eyes stared wildly about her. Arms reached out; knocking over things that hadn't already fallen on the floor. Her smooth, white legs flailed up and down. A small pool of spittle formed at her mouth. And then...suddenly...it stopped.

Catherine again lay motionless on the floor. Again, just her chest moved. It rose up and down...up and down.

The eyes opened slowly, blinking, registering the ceiling about her. Her naked body lay sprawled out on the floor, breasts lying flat against her chest; her legs spread wide open. But her eyes were active. Slowly they scanned the room, observing the walls the tipped over cosmetics, the ripped shower curtain she lay on top of, the fact that the shower head was still running.

Everything was both new and familiar to her at the same time. She smiled mysteriously as she sat up slowly and continued to scan the room. Her eyes traced the toothbrushes and medicines and shampoos. Her hand glided carefully over and into the bathtub. She felt the water. Her hand sloshed around in it for several moments before she cupped some into her hands and drank. She smiled again.

"It feels so good," she said with the mysterious smile.

Slowly Catherine's body shifted to a crouching position. She reached an arm towards the faucet handles and turned the water off. She stood up and walked towards the closed bathroom door, pausing before the mirror and gazing into it. Her eyes traced her face, pert breasts, her soft hips and her milky white legs.

Her right hand slid deliberately towards her vagina, sticking two fingers through the folds of her labia and massaging her clit. Quietly she moaned as her left hand came up her breast and began to tweak her nipple. In and out and around they moved, each push causing her back to arch and her cunt to burst out juices. In and out...in and out. She moaned slowly, pleasurably, for several long moments, turning again to the mirror and whispering, "You are so good." Her voice dropped an octave as she continued "And he will be so good."

Her mind eyes turned inward briefly, thinking on the boy...no man sleeping quietly down the hall. He was so handsome. He was so irresistible. She must have him. He would be her master. She needed a master. The thoughts flowing through her head made her feel so good. She had to fuck him. She had to fuck him. The thoughts repeated themselves over and over in Catherine's head.

He would learn to love to be a master.

She didn't any longer know who the boy sleeping was. All she knew was that he was there, that she wanted him. She wanted him...it wanted him. It was she and she was it and it was hungry. It wanted sex. It needed sex and it/she knew where to get it. She knew a young man asleep. She wanted him.

The mysterious smile crossed her face as Catherine reached for the knob of the bathroom door. Her barefeet made little noise on the linoleum floor, not enough to wake him anyhow. Her footsteps moved with quiet anticipation, her breasts, uninhibited, bounced up and down cheerfully. She was going to pleasure him. She was going to feel such pleasure. It told her and it was all she knew. It was all she cared.

Quietly she worked her way down to Danny's room and cracked open the door.