Endless Night

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Stalker takes woman into his idea of BDSM.
5.2k words
4.37
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The key ring rattles in her palm as she sorts through each one, finally locating the house key. With a sigh of tired relief she slips it into the lock, pushing at the door with one shoulder. She steps inside the warmth of her home, feeling the tension of a long day slowly drip from her shoulders like hot, liquid steel. Delicate fingers unfurl, the black leather bag she carries slipping to the floor to land with a soft thud on thickly piled, hunter green carpet.

A soft moan parts moist lips as her head rolls on the graceful column of her neck, working at the kinks coiling in each muscle. Silent as a cat, she moves through each room, swaying ever so slightly as gloss black heels sink into the carpet. One hand reaches up, dragging the stethoscope from where it rests upon shoulders. Draping it over the couch, she moves on towards the kitchen, heels now clicking a staccato beat on the black marble tile.

As she opens the door to the refrigerator, a sound from above is heard. Her head snaps up, every sense focusing intently, waiting to hear it again, as a tremble moves over honeyed flesh. Shoulders shrug as moments pass with no echoing sounds. Removing a crystal bottle of water her weary steps take her to the smooth oak cabinets, the free hand tugging it open to retrieve a finely etched glass.

Setting the carafe and glass on the counter, she eases a wicked blade from the holder, wrist flicking to send it sliding through a fresh lemon. Her small hand twists the fruit, sending juice and pulp into the bottom of the glass. Filling the glass with cold water she carries it and the carafe back to the refrigerator. Dropping a few cubes of ice in she takes a sip, relishing the cold, tart liquid flowing over her tongue.

Leaving the kitchen with only a soft light to leave a glow, she moves through the house, flicking on small amber globes, wondering how at thirty years of age, she can still be afraid of the dark. Gripping the oak banister, she moves up the curved staircase, drink in hand. One small foot comes out to nudge the bedroom door open, as she wonders silently why it was almost shut. Laying her paranoia at a long days feet, she slips into the chamber, one finger feathering over the wall, to flick at the switch, casting a soft golden light through out.

Slowly, her amber gaze moves about the room, taking in the gleaming armoire, massive four poster bed, the slightly open door leading to the Master bath. For the first time since getting home, a radiant smile lights her bold features, transforming them into something close to lovely, as her eyes stop on one wall made entirely of glass. Stars so bright they appear to be a breath away twinkle beyond the panes.

Setting the glass on a cherry wood vanity, she steps out of the leather pumps. Toes wiggle into the thick burgundy carpet, as fingers flick at each onyx button holding the black blazer closed over lush breasts. Knowing that music will soothe her, she turns to the stereo, fingers pressing against buttons, as the soft whir of cd's moving sounds softly in the chamber. The smooth, dulcet tones of Fleetwood Mac throb as shoulders shrug, the blazer gliding down lightly bronzed skin to land in a heap on the floor.

Gaze fixated on the sapphire night outside the glass, she slowly unzips the back of the severely tailored, black skirt, hips shimmying as it slips down, settling near the discarded blazer. She smiles ferally, knowing the crimson and black silk of her panties, bra, and garters are a stark contrast to the primness of the skirt and blazer she just removed. A lone thought "what they don't know" teases at the edge of her awareness, as she settles upon the cushion of the vanity chair.

She removes the soft band holding the long, bronze coloured curls in braided captivity. As she sifts her fingers through the strands, they start to flow in wild abundance down her shoulders and back. Once more trembles goose bump her flesh, some inner sense whispering that she is being watched. Turning to look over her shoulder, gaze burning into the shadows, catching and holding on the bathroom and closet doors, she waits for the tremors to ease.

Forcefully she pushes the sudden terror aside as she bends at the waist to unhook the black, silk hose from each garter. Nimble fingers roll the hose down over smooth thighs, calves and the delicate curve of ankle. As she stands, fingers curve up to unclasp the tiny clips nestled between deep cleavage, freeing the weight of her breasts. Crimson satin straps fall down to hang haphazardly on her arms, until they fall, resting by her sides, the sheer fabric floating to the floor. Her fingers ease into the silk of French-cut panties, skimming them over flared hips, sweetly rounded bottom, until the scrap of fabric pools on the floor like a smudge of blood. Only a thin gold chain wraps itself around her ankle now, a lone sharks tooth dangling against skin.

A stretch of feline grace arches her back, thrusting breasts forward, ripples of relaxation coursing through each muscle. Deciding to enjoy the solitude of the warm night, she moves to the glass wall, fingers finding the small gold handles by memory. Easing the heavy weight apart, she slips, waif-like, through the narrow opening to stand on the oak deck. Gusts of tropical ocean breeze flow through her hair, sending the curls whipping about her face. Her fingers tangle in the unruly mass, tugging it away from her face, she stands silent, still as stone, listening to the thundering crash of waves far below.

Upturned, coral pink, nipples tighten in the breeze, giving them the appearance of begging for a kiss, a nibble. Her feet are planted in a stubborn stance, tawney eyes glowing in the darkness of a jeweled night, making her look like a Pirate princess, in control of all she considers hers.

Thoughts flow randomly, recalling the hectic day within the Trauma Unit she calls a second home. For the millionth time, she asks herself if practicing medicine is worth it, but already, she knows the answer her heart will give. It was never a choice only a need to serve that guided her.

The sharp click of boots hitting wood is heard, her head whipping towards the ominous sound. Too late, she realizes she is not alone in the darkness as the shape of a man materializes in the deep shadows of the deck. Her breath sucks in, caught in the narrow column of her throat. Her hands come up, fingers clawing at the tightness there, sheer terror robbing her ability to breathe. Clarity slams into her mind with stunning force as thoughts congeal.. the sound she heard above, the bedroom door being almost closed, the sense of being watched. "Oh Lord" whispers between her lips, and for the first time since she bought the home she loves, she damns the wall of glass giving Him access to every moment since she arrived within the chamber.

She feels as if an eternity has passed in the space of moments. The only movement on the deck is her small ribcage as it heaves, trying to catch a breath of air. His head tilts, body langorous in its repose, hazel eyes slowly roving up and down the flesh bared to his gaze. He knows what she does not, that this has been carefully planned, that he's been watching her, for quite some time. Everything about her is familiar to him, from the scent she wears, every curve of her body, her work schedule, hobbies, even what books she reads and music she listens to are burned into his brain. A set of keys to her house and car, are hooked onto a ring within his pocket.

Knowing she has never seen him consciously, that all these facts are unknown to her, he revels in the animal caught in headlights look within her eyes. One firm legs stretches out, the soft black leather of his pants molding it like a lovers caress, the small movement shocking her out of an almost trance-like state. Pivoting on one bare foot, both legs taut as they hit their stride, she runs through the glass doors small opening, across the room towards the open chamber door.

Suddenly she slams forward, careening towards the floor as his hard body crashes into hers from behind. One corded arm clenches around her waist, the other lifting to curl a large hand around her head, protecting it from the heavy wood at the base of the vanity. Graceful as a panther he curls their bodies together, into a ball, tumbling across the floor. Howls of her rage bounce off the walls as they come to rest, his hard body pressing hers into the floor. Lifting his head, he looks down into her furious eyes, noting the glittering rage.

Little snarls throb as she lifts her arms, wrapping them around his back to sink talon-like nails into his shoulders. She rakes them down his biceps with lethal force, head lifting as teeth bare to bite into the softness of his bottom lip. The tang of blood drips into her mouth from his wound, growls gurgling around the droplets coating her tongue. A large hand comes up to fasten at her throat, thumb pressing over the pounding of her pulse, the other enmeshing within the wild curls to yank her head back to the floor. Smiling down into her face he whispers softly "My little kitten, that was not nice at all. Be assured, you will pay for it."

Rising, he yanks her up by the hair to stand before him. Measured steps take him to the bed where he picks up a flame coloured silk robe. Turning to toss it at her, he orders, "Put it on, there are some things it's time for you to know."

Her arms slide through cool silk, numb fingers knotting the sash tightly at her waist. Looking up to meet his gaze once more, she sees a flicker of regret cross his features. His mouth skews into a grimace as he returns her gaze head on, calmly stating, "Sit down, kitten and listen." A slow flush of pink stains her high cheekbones as she hisses back, "I don't know you and I don't know who you think you are, but you can go to hell." Like a rifle shot his voice booms through the room, "I said SIT DOWN." Taking an involuntary step back, her knees hit the vanity chair, quiet now, as she sinks into it.

Planting his booted feet apart, arms crossed over a solid chest, he calmly watches her as a silky voice starts the story. "You do not realize that I have been watching you for months now." Hearing her sharp intake of breath, he grins, continuing. "You're asking yourself why. It started long ago, when I walked by a store you were in, a lingerie store. You were focused so intensely on each garment, stroking your fingers lovingly over satin, silk, leather, and lace, that I stopped to watch you through the window. I could almost feel the differnt textures of the fabric on your skin, smell your arousal as I pictured each item you touched on your body." Turning the hazel of his gaze to her, he catches and holds the warm honey of her eyes, quietly continuing.

"When you left, I followed you, to the Trauma Unit where you work. Imagine my surprise as I walked in on other pretenses, to see you emerge from an office wearing dull blue scrub pants and a top, the golden fire of your hair braided tightly, looking untouchable. I knew then, I would touch you, deeper than you had ever been touched before. I watched the innate control, strength, confidence within your work surround you like an aura. From that point on, whenever I had time, I watched you, any knowledge of you noted, stored away for someday.. this day. I know that you do not have to be back to work for three days and I know that you have nothing planned. You were going to sit here, reclusive, reading, listening to music. Your plans have changed."

Her voice trembling, husky, as she quietly asks, "Who are you, why me, I don't know what you want from me.." A gentle smile touches his lips as he walks forward, leaning into her until his mouth is pressed against her ear to whisper, "I am Hell, what I want from you is simple, your submission to anything I decide to take, in return, I will give back to you until you are full." A small palm comes out from behind her, smacking his cheek with brutal force, leaving a red blotch to mar the harsh plain. "That will never happen so you may as well leave, now."

Rising back up, his tongue flicks out to slowly glide over the bruised flesh of his lower lip, wiping away the blood from her earlier attack. With sick fascination she watches the pink tongue drag, smearing the crimson, horrified as she feels a twinge of arousal pulse deep in her core.

A soft laugh parts his lips fully as he watches her gaze follow the quest of his tongue. Voice silky as he whispers, "I know you don't have a lover. How long has it been since you've felt a man cover you, fuck into your cunt, your mouth, take you.. until all you can do is scream and beg for more?"

Rage bubbles out of control, choking her with its force, as she jumps up, screaming, "You are crass, rude, and barbaric, get the fuck out of my house now!!'

Leaving her to stand there, shaken, quivering, he moves around the room, almost speaking to himself. "Why do you leave all these lights on kitten? Are you afraid of the dark, maybe? Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it, you can't believe how it facilitated watching every move you made." One hand flicks out to light the wick on candles placed through out the chamber as he speaks, steps retracing to shut off the lights, leaving the room near black.

Moving back to where she stands immobile with shock and fear, he takes her hand, leading her to the wall of glass overlooking the desolate beach below. "See how this glass looks like a mirror, when only candlelight flickers through the room? Well... this wall will help us live the fantasy I've created."

Husky laughter scrapes over her flesh as hazed orbs look up to meet his in shocked silence, her mind a spinning vortex of questions, wondering what all this man knows, what he's seen.

Almost as if he can read her thoughts, he smiles, baring even white teeth, "I've seen it all kitten. Your fingers stroking over the soft swell of your belly, pinching your nipples, and even plunging in and out of your hot cunt. Mmmmm yes, I could almost hear your moans, the sucking noises it made, as it was pleasured by your own hand. I only wondered, as I watched, if you imagined a thick cock taking you instead of your small fingers."

Stomping one foot as a plethora of emotions storm her senses, she yanks her hand from his grasp. Pivoting on one foot, she shows him her back, the flame silk robe glimmering in the pale candlelight. He watches her silently for a few moments, wondering when she will finally realize what it is she needs. One hand reaches out, stroking through the curls washing over her shoulders. "We can do this the hard way or the easy way, that is your choice. Take off the robe."

Feeling his fingers leave her hair, she turns her turbulent gaze to the open door, wondering why it seems yards away. Setting her shoulders back in determined lines as small teeth clench, she takes off, on a dead run for the door, blazing silk billowing behind her flexing calves.

Replayed like a nightmare she feels her back bow painfully as his shoulder sinks into it, the force of the tackle sending her sliding over the thick carpet, burns stinging on her thighs. Strong fingers dig into her shoulder, bruising soft flesh instantly as he yanks her close, growling.."You little bitch, it could have been easy, but now we will do it my way."

Tugging the black leather belt from loops at his waist, he swings it in a wide arch over her head, tugging it hard around her small wrists. Quickly threading the end through the buckle he locks them into place. Reaching further he drags the free end around the post of the bed where it meets floor, tieing off the leather to hold her there. His fingers fumble at the button and zipper fastening the black leather of his pants, as she kicks and screams. Freeing his stiff cock, he rips her silk robe up the middle, throwing the tattered remains over the lush curve of her ass. Both hands come down, gripping her hips, fingers clawing into her bottom, to lift her, placing her at an angle to take the fucking she needs.

With one brutal thrust he buries his cock within the hot walls of her core, balls slapping against the lips of her pussy. A lone scream of pain and terror arcs through the chamber, echoing back to him again and again. Fighting like a wildcat, fingers clawing at the carpet, legs kick out uselessly as he holds her in place. Tangled bronze locks of hair whip at his chest as her head tosses, soft screams of pain chasing the first harsh ones torn from her throat. Lightning cracks of sound boom as his arm lifts to send the palm of his hand slamming into the cheek of her bottom again and again. The writhing motion of her hips, the smell of her fear and pain pull him closer to the edge as he thrusts with cruel force into her clutching cunt. His fingers dig into her flawless back, raking down to leave four angry red lines etched into flesh. White, hot pain sears her hole as the raping motions tear at tender flesh.

Softly, tears choking her voice, she begs him to quit, promising anything if only it will stop the pain. He pulls his cock from her hole, fingers coming down to trace slowly over the tender, bruised skin, soothing her with gentleness. Covering her with his body to warm the chill of used flesh he unfastens the belt from her bed and wrists. One arm reaches under her legs, the other at her shoulders, as he lifts her, placing her in the center of the massive bed.

"Take what is left of your robe off kitten."

Nodding her head in terror and scorching pain, she tugs the tatters away, throwing them to the floor. Slowly his hazel eyes move up and down her skin, touching each swollen nipple, the heaving of her ribs as she tries to quit crying, the rug burns marring softly bronzed thighs. Finally his gaze meets hers, watching as tears wind their way down her cheeks in thin rivulets, one plump drop quivering on sultry black lashes, waiting to join the others. Small glossy teeth nibble at the swell of her lower lip, trying to catch the sobs threatening to burst forth. He notes how her fingers tangle together, fluttering softly like a birds wings as she strains for control.

He drops one hand down beside the bed to pick up a bag that was all but concealed by the fluffy pearl coloured comforter. In no big hurry, he opens it, peering into the shadowed depths. While he pulls strips of leather from the bag he murmurs absently, "Say my name kitten."

Struggling to recall it through the whirring of her mind, she finally stammers "Hell." Smiling at her, the curve of his jaw hard, belying the pleasant facade, he states quietly, "Its one of two things for you, Master or Master Hell, take your choice, but if you don't use one or the other, it will be added to your payment plan."

One large hand comes out, pushing her into a splayed position on the bed, tugging each ankle to a corner. Using one leather thong, he wraps it around the right ankle, tieing it off on the bed post. Following suit with the left ankle, he checks both to make sure they are taut. Tieng off each wrist to a post, he leaves her lying there to finish removing his clothing. Shaking the black leather vest off, he tosses it towards a chair. Stepping out of his boots, he moves closer to her, smiling as her head turns to watch him. Pulling off the leather pants, he stands naked before her, stunning in his maleness. The contrast between their bodies, erotic in itself.

The weight of his body presses into the bed as he moves above her, straddling her shoulders, purrring softly, "Tease my cock with your tongue and lips kitten, taste me." Pursing her lips in mute protest, she shakes her head back and forth. A scowl mars his features as he reaches down, taking hold of the rigid cock to slap it against her lips, "Do it, unless you want me to rape your mouth the way I just raped your cunt." Lips part to suck in a shocked breath of air, the flicker of her tongue caught by his gaze as he whispers, "yes my slut, use that tongue, show me its talent."

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