Superbowl Sunday, the expression still haunts me even after several seasons. The macho festival, fueled by beer and testosterone, where men believe they are all MVP's and women should worship them as gods. I don't have any idea how many women are abused by men after this high point of American sport but I know I'm am not the only victim of their excess.

My husband and son had organised for a group of friends to watch the game in our new family room but at the last minute my husband managed to get a ticket through a friend. He called his buddies and cancelled but allowed our son and his friends to stay. I had volunteered to work the day but even before the game started the boss sent all the women home and replaced them with some burly bouncer types as the group of men who had booked the restaurant were already way too rowdy for his liking.

I got home and checked on the boys, well really young men, all 17 and 18 year olds. They had the room darkened and the sound up to better reproduce the atmosphere of the game. There were 2 guys at the back who I didn't known but with a sudden outbreak of cheering at something on the screen I just waved and went back to the house. Probably someone's older brothers.

I went up to my bedroom and could barely hear the noise from here. I stripped off my skirt and blouse, kicked off my shoes and struggled out of my pantyhose. I then went into the bathroom for a nice hot shower. I checked my butt in the mirror and there were a few marks from stray slaps and the odd pinch I had received at work. The shower worked wonders on my 40 year old body releasing tension in muscles I hadn't even felt before. I got out and toweled off giving my short blonde hair the quick once over to get rid of any last drops of water. I felt really good.

It is in our own home where we feel safest but we are actually at our most vulnerable. I should have double checked everything outside before coming inside, alone. I should have found out who they were, checked if these underage boys had booze and made sure the house was secure behind me.

It was only three steps from the bathroom to the bedroom so I only wrapped a towel around me and as I went through the door I gave it a wrist flick to close it and as soon as I heard the click I dropped the towel. I went from euphoric warmth to chilling fear in a heartbeat as a large, sweaty hand clamped itself over my mouth. Another hand came into view holding a small, but very threatening knife. It also held the long neck of bourbon bottle, the fumes wafting into my nose.

I tried to struggle but my assailant was too strong and I froze in terror as he wispered in my ear that if I screamed for help then he would use the knife. He turned me around and gripped my throat in a vice like grip, it was indeed one of the men I had seen outside. The knife was on a chain that wound around his wrist so he was able to let it go without losing it. He pushed the bottle against my lips trying to force it into my mouth. I turned away but he just hit my head into the wall so I saw stars and as my mouth went slack the bottle found its way in. He poured a slug down my throat and I nearly gagged as I felt it funnel down into my stomach.

Gripping a handful of my hair he forced me to my knees from where I could see his blood filled manhood. He must of come up while I was in the shower and he had already taken off his jeans so now his penis poked from the opening of his boxer shorts. He bought it to my face and it nudged my cheek and lips before he told me what to do. A jerk of my hair and I obeyed opening my mouth to take this intruder.

I tried not to react but he wanted some action so he began fucking my face. Holding my head tightly he moved his hips in a rocking motion that drove the penis back to the point where I gagged again. The knife came back into view near my eye and again he barked out orders on what I had to do. With a trembling hand I wrapped my fingers around his penis. I could feel its warmth and pulse as I worked it into my mouth. I was not that stupid to think it would end with just a blow job so I steeled myself for what was to come.

After a few minutes of face fucking he hauled me to my feet and threw me onto the bed. He jumped on top of me pinning me in place. He had prepared his next move because my pantyhose had been sliced into two stockings and he used them to tie my hands above me to the bedhead. Then he got off and began opening drawers till he found my underwear and another pair of pantyhose which he also sliced and secured my legs to the end of the bed.

He walked out but was back in the next second with my panties from the bathroom. He wadded them into a ball, poured on some bourbon and stuffed them in my mouth. He sat next to me on the bed and played with my breasts, squeezing and mashing them hard enough to leave marks. He tweaked my nipples and stretched them till they sprung back from his hands. He ran the blade of his knife over my body like he was going to shave me.

My body stiffened as I felt the bottle of bourbon at the entrance to my vagina. I knew it was useless to struggle but I was not prepared to be violated like this. He just laughed and slapped my thigh very hard. I couldn't close my legs and then the bottle was in and as some of the bourbon sloshed into me, my vagina felt on fire. I arched my back off the bed as far as I could go but immediatley I felt the strain on my shoulders. He continued to laugh as he worked the bottle around my vagina, stretching it at every opportunity.