A Night of Pleasure Pt. 01

*Editing thanks to:* Meester Writer (partial edits. Get well soon.)

*Synopsis:*

A primal predator has caught the scent of his next victim as a young woman goes out on her own hunt for a night of fun and pleasure only to find it ending in what she thinks will be total disappointment.

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**Prelude*

He stood over her naked form. She lay there so peacefully, all smooth, soft skin. His hands moved gently over her breast, cupping it lightly, letting her nipple slide between his fingers. He wanted her now, but he had to get everything ready. He pulled his hand away slowly, tracing the bumps around her hardened nipple with his finger tips before pinching it hard between them. She moaned softly but remained asleep.

He looked at the bed's other occupant, glowering down at the unwanted "guest" who was invading his evening's entertainment. The big man wasn't surprised that she had brought someone home with her. She had been out alone earlier that evening. Still this other man's presence was... inconvenient.

The big man stood musing for a moment, then seemed to decide how he should handle the situation. This other offered a different sort of convenience he supposed, a useful way for the man to enjoy himself with the sleeping woman. This other could keep attention from being drawn on to himself afterwards.

The man had been following this woman all night. He had stayed just out of her sight most of the evening. Watching her, he had felt drawn to her in an inexplicable way. She was like a lightning rod attracting his coming storm. The easy flow of her movements and the hunger in her eyes drew him to her. She made him desire her, need to possess and own her. The man had stalked her though the club, her energy drawing him ever closer.

The woman had briefly seen him and met his gaze during the events of the evening. The man moved quickly, losing himself in the crowd, and vanishing from her view. He could see that she had been on the hunt that night as much as he had been; he recognized the predatory look in her eye.

She was on her own hunt; it was in the way she sat exposing her legs and thighs, showing off her curves and shape, effortlessly and yet calculated to draw attention. It was also in the way she drank her drinks sensually, yet seemed to covertly assess each man in the room. She was seeking a companion for the night, just as he was, though he was sure that her need was more 'basic'.

He assumed that she had needs that had no real consequence compared to his own lusts. She simply sought an acceptable mate for the night, a good fuck, a night of passion;while he sought someone to own, to dominate and to devour, someone to be his play thing, to use and destroy and cast away when he was finished with her. She was prey pure and simple to him, a gazelle for a lion's meal.

Of course she was more, though the man stalking her had no way to know that yet.

She had spent her afternoon trying to make a bit of extra money and get some personal satisfaction at the same time; the latter was all too rare with the methods she had at her disposal, but at least the money she received wasn't a disappointment.

Her day job, as it were, was in an office, where she was almost wholly ignored and her work was overlooked most of the time, except for when credit was being stolen for her efforts by her male counterparts. Her bosses and supervisors were misogynists of the worst kind, useless men without the ability to please a woman let alone the knowledge how. "Men" who thought their money and status afforded them the right to treat the women of the office as play things, but lacked the charisma or personality to claim any rights to such status.

The woman had developed a disdain for most men because of them. To her, men were inept, simpering children. From that conditioned mindset, she had started to sell her disdain for men back to them. She had set up accounts and profiles on specialized sites, and advertised her services on dating sites, discreetly and privately, and focused on undeserving men to give her their worship. She had grown a modest following of such men that soaked in her derision of them and her disdain for their weaknesses. She was brutal, unyielding and cruel; and these men paid her well for it.

For her followers she was a being of sexual allure yet completely unobtainable; it was their money that earned them her consideration and they only earned her sneers, jeers, and contempt. This combination earned her attention and adoration from her spineless, weak willed followers. Her followers worshiped her for her cunning and intellect, she made sure of that... but for all this adoration, her online virtual services to them left her wanting.

The creatures she dealt with were worms, that was what they craved most from her, what they begged her to make them. Her followers, like all males, were only worth her enmity, but they thrived on it and loved her for giving it to them. The woman had to admit that she enjoyed tearing them down, degrading them, making fun of them, but they enjoyed it as well. If she was honest, their enjoyment of her abusive digs at them soured her towards them. Their attention and adoration could not provide for her needs, or at least not all of them.

The woman often spent her hours at work now taking photos, covertly filming and messaging her followers, allowing them to pay her for the honor of her attention and the risks she took touching herself in a meeting or putting her used panties in a coworkers coffee without their knowledge. She instructed them to send her tributes of devotion for such, and made them work for the small teases of flesh she offered.

More often though, she would be left unfulfilled and wanting from the exchanges she'd had during the day. Occasionally she'd find someone she could record, dominate and use, though these experiences too were more fun for her partners than for her. The money such films and activities provided at least made them worth her time.

Tonight her need was almost unbearable, and her followers fueled her rage at males. Her more regular outlets were too weak and submissive for her own burning desires, so she had opted to go out. She demanded her followers pay for her drinks and sent them teases of what she would be wearing, letting them glimpse what was underneath, and many obliged her.

That night at the club the woman met many boys though none matched her needs. One potential man, a hulking burly brute with eyes that made her heart race, had simply vanished from view. She had tried to find him for the rest of the evening, but without any luck. When it had come time to leave she simply took the first boy she could find in the hope that he wouldn't be a waste of her time.

He was a pretty boy, not handsome, just pretty. She hated how manicured boys had become, as she couldn't even think of them as men any more. They were all boys or worms, none of them were the kind of animals that she would consider men. This boy was pretty, polished and boring; a fuckboi and little else, he had no original thoughts when they talked and no depth to him. Superficial was the only word she had for him, but he seemed willing, so he would have to do.

In the taxi to her apartment, the two had made out, fondling and groping one another. Both spoke their needs in small gasps and moans as their mouths and hands sought out the satisfaction that can only come with physical contact. She had made eye contact with the driver in his rear-view mirror. Her eyes spoke to needs that extended beyond the boy she was with. She almost pleaded for him to stop and join in. He had proven to be spineless though, content to only watch as he drove them and nothing more.

With their groping touches and needful movements she had thought that the boy had felt large as her leg brushed against his groin; his body felt firm under his clothing and he was eager to move right to things as she shut the door of her apartment. She similarly preferred to skip the formalities, no need to drawout what was going to happen. They were both ready, and she pulled him into the bedroom without preamble or objection.

Her mood shifted when he actually removed his pants; the little boy was far smaller than he had advertised. He had used something sewn into his pants to mask his miniscule and meager size! The woman barely stifled a derisive laugh, her disdain for his deception hard to mask. Drunk as he was, he had a violent side - it was nothing truly dangerous to her, she knew how to handle a drunk lout like this boy. This was not something she wanted to deal with at that moment, she had needs that raged and needed to be fulfilled, even though he might be sub-standard.

He was a foolish, vain, and petty little thing. The woman had met his kind continuously throughout her life. He was all ego and bark; he wanted to be a man but was still a child whining for his mother's tit. A pretender, little more than a cardboard cut out of what he thought women craved. He would brag and lie about his conquests and abilities with friends the next day, but barely worth her time; however he was all she had available.

She thought bitterly about her followers and how they would have worshiped her for mocking and laughing at their tiny cocks, but this boy with his micropenis looked fit to fly off and throw a tantrum at her reaction. He wanted her to "ooh" and "aah" at his pretended mass, and instead she had needed to fight her reaction to merely scoff at him. The anger in his eyes was hard to miss. She hoped she could channel his sudden embarrassed fury into a good fuck. She thought that he must know how to fuck to make up for his tiny dick, or at least she hoped that he knew how to pleasure a woman in other ways.

She decided to play to his ego and tantalize him, and she teased him by slowly taking off her clothes and flicking a condom package at him - coaxing him to show her what he had in store for her. The boy had perked up at her little show, his anger quickly turning to lust. "Good little slut," he said, thinking that he had some right to call her anything but Mistress, yet she fought down her urge to kick him in the balls and humiliate him, and show him what he truly was.

The boy had hurriedly stripped and placed the condom on, complaining that they were always so small. She repressed the sneer, and desire to treat him like one of her worms; She hid her bitter laughing mockery with which she had flicked him an extra-small condom, the type she used to finger peg worms that paid enough to visit her.

Yet he was already done before she had any time to even get ready to begin. He had totally spent himself in only a moment. He rolled off her and lay back panting, pleased with himself.

It made her want to tear her hair out, scream and beat this little worm child for his disrespect and disservice. She wanted to rail against him and punish him for wasting her time, and availing himself so unsatisfyingly. Even her worms would wait obediently until she allowed them to cum. Some craved for her punishments and so willfully came too soon, but most obeyed her.

She pushed down her anger, and desire to throw him out, removing herself from the room and entering into her adjoining bathroom. Breathing slowly, she tried to calm herself.

If she did kick him out there might be a bar somewhere still open where she could find a grateful hobo. Perhaps a vagrant she could give a few drinks and promise a warm bed for the night. Her thoughts made her start to get wet. Just thinking about what she could do with someone else fed her need for more.

She grabbed her electric toothbrush, she couldn't even return to the bedroom for a proper toy... all the more reason to resent the wasted flesh in her bed. The toothbrush was both an improvement to the worm childs size and stamina. She fantasized about a hobo with eyes hungry and haunting; how he focused his violent needs on her soft body so intensely that she wouldn't be able to stand or walk the next day. She so longed to be used that way. She needed to be taken so hard that she would need weeks to recover from it.

As the woman worked to pleasure herself, her frustration with the worm-child's flaws and failures in every way soared. She was stuck in her own bathroom with a toothbrush! She could be in her bed with her largest toy if not for him! She could turn on porn and listen to others having rough sex while she tried to pleasure herself. She at least knew where to touch herself. Instead that worm-child was out there. How could he be so inept and useless, so completely infuriatingly unable to satisfy. Leaving her so wanting for relief that she couldn't even find a way to satisfy herself after such a dismal fuck!

She was about to throw down her toothbrush; drag him to a window and toss his naked ass out of it to fall the three stories to the streets below; but a thought struck. Maybe she could salvage things, one of her previous worm visitors had left a bottle of blue pills after his torture session with her. Her cock and ball torture of him had left him in such a stupor he'd forgotten his erectile aids.

She quickly moved to her medicine cabinet behind the mirror and found the bottle. Perhaps they would help his size too, she mused. Even if he fell asleep on her she could still use him, if she could get him to use these... maybe he would need two or three to get his cock big enough for her to feel it.

The woman adopted a seductive walk out of the bathroom. She paused and let out a frustrated angry groan. He was passed out naked on her bed. His condom was discarded on the floor next to the bed. All she could see was red now and she began to cross the room intending to grind his testicals under her heel and make him pay for his insolence, she'd rip out his hair and toss him out naked for this insult. She dropped the glass and pills letting them break and scatter.

Meanwhile the big man had been stalking her and he had seen all this transpire. He had followed her from the club, intending to intervene before things had gone too far with the other. But he had lagged behind slightly and reached her window as he saw her pulling the man into her bedroom. He saw her rage and frustration at the other's poor performance. He could see her raw and burning need now as well and he recognized it in himself.

While she had been in the bathroom he had let himself silently into her apartment. He had crossed the room and placed a cloth over the other man's nose and mouth deftly. Catching him unaware in a tight headlock, the other man could do little to defend himself and succumb to the fumes on the rag quickly. The other man barely had time to respond at all, dropping his phone on the bed and slipping unconscious like a ragdoll.

The big man was a bit rougher with the other than he needed to be, but this interloper wasn't supposed to be here. It was all over in a moment and with almost no noise. There was barely a muffled squeak so the woman in the bathroom didn't hear anything over the buzz of her toothbrush. The man let the other fall backwards onto the bed and picked up the dropped phone.

Moving silently to the half shut door he watched her frustratedly trying to pleasure herself, and felt his own throbs of uncontrollable desire rising. He was about to go into her when he saw her eyes snap open with a resolved look flooding her face. He moved quickly to the side of the door to avoid being seen as he heard her moving in the bathroom. He watched her begin to rage as she walked out, and threw the contents in her hand down letting the glass break on the floor.

He stepped behind her with a quick movement and wrapped his arms around her. One of his hands clamping a cloth that smelled sickly sweet over her nose and mouth; the other wrapped around her waist. He pulled her body in close to his own, controlling her range of movement, her balance, her momentum. He held her so easily, just like she was little more than a child's doll.

The woman was caught completely off guard by the sudden attack. The arms were stronger and firmer than any she had ever felt. Her mind filled with images of them being made of steel bars wrapped in concrete more than flesh on bone. They felt too solid and real around her, and she felt her heart flutter and breath catch in her chest the same way it had with the first awkward kisses and touches of her long forgotten childhood crushes.

These arms and the way they held her seemed like the only real thing she had ever experienced; everything else was shadows and dreams. She was enveloped in them; her naked body completely engulfed by them. Her skin prickled and sung as she thrilled at this unexpected event, and she felt herself burn with need, it was exploding inside of her.

His hand at her waist slipped between her legs as she gulped for air through the cloth at her mouth. Moaning eagerly for more she felt her head starting to spin and throb with her heartbeat. She could feel the body behind her grow stiffer and harder as the thick fingers rubbed over her pubic mound, sliding deeper between her legs. She arched back against him, spreading her legs for him. Willfully she breathed in the fumes of the drug soaked cloth.

She let herself feel the heat and rigidity of the man behind her as she sought to feel him completely against her bare skin. She could feel her own body growing heavy and slow as fog covered her mind. She didn't want to faint but couldn't fight it, she could feel her need burning and dripping from her core over his rough fingertips; she didn't want to miss any of what he had in store for her. The last thought she had before darkness overtook her was "finally, a Man."