0 comments/  6695 views/  2 favorites

The Night King Pt. 01

By: TheWolfNose



Part 1 - Where Cambridge Lies

Inspired in part by Twitter .

Dedicated to them, them who might actually like me, them who are capable of not hating a man who is neither alive, nor dead.

Sandstone hair, eyes the color of the ocean on the clearest, bluest day, a voice like a crackling fire in the fireplace, with white in his executive beard and at the temples; he was a lighter compliment to her darker brunette beauty. He met her one night in a small bar in Cambridge, city of technology and business. The bar was called Champions, a sports bar, and they served his favorite beer, a local one called Pretty Things' Jack d'Or. He went there frequently just for it; it was a Saison, sometimes called a farmhouse ale. The delicious and spicy flavor reminded him of back home, when he used to bale hay. Tonight, however, he had a glass of deep red wine, a Carmenere that was a prodigious find.

He scratched fitfully at his beard as she continued the conversation on her own. He was having a hard time paying attention, because her breasts were so large they were like a second gravitational point. He suspected they must be fake, because she was quite slender otherwise. But even they couldn't distract from her hair, which flowed in stylish, wide curls down over her shoulders, a deep brown waterfall, glossier than any magazine cover.

"John, are you listening?" She asked with a big smile. Her perfectly straight and white teeth left him temporarily speechless.

"Yes, sorry. Was distracted for a moment. Please go on." Her name was Peitho, which he wasn't confident pronouncing as yet, especially not with that much alcohol in him. When she introduced herself, he had to look it up because it sounded familiar. He was beginning to understand why she introduced herself as that, and why she was probably using a pseudonym. He hadn't given her his real name either, because he'd also had to deal with stalkers before, just as he was sure she had. But by giving him that particular name, instead of something like Gretchen, surely that was a good sign?

"As I was saying, I love April Fools' day. It just makes me laugh more and more every year. Twitter goes nuts, and people party like they don't have to work the next day." She paused. "And I get to meet interesting men on occasion."

"You do? Where?!" John replied quickly, looking behind him, confused. She laughed before he even had to explain that it was a joke, so he knew she was a keeper. It sounds as if he was overconfident of his humor, but it was more that he understood he could be rather obscure at times, and not everyone understood sarcasm all that well. Peitho did, though, and she wasn't afraid to use it. He really liked that. Hell, he really liked her personality in general. Flirty without being insane, and generally just very open and interesting.

"I was only April Fooling, of course. There are no interesting men in this part of Boston." She was smiling the whole time of course, trying to stifle the laughter at her own joke. He laughed enough for both of them, a deep, resonating laugh. She really liked his laugh and his eyes.

She choked a little on her beer. "Sorry, I don't normally have trouble swallowing." She smiled again. As intoxicating as the wine was, it was the smile that would do him in this night. And the innuendo.

"Waiter! I need the check. This woman is too amazing." John said. He had plans tonight, and they involved spanking her for being naughty. She didn't know that yet, but she would. 

The waiter brought the check and he assigned it to his room at the Marriott. He stood up and if anyone else in the bar had been looking, they'd have been staring at the front of his pants, bulging. She certainly was. He smiled, and took her by the hand.

In the elevator, they were all over each other. He kissed her deeply, tongue probing around her mouth phallicly, and fondled her buttocks. When he finally stopped biting her lip, she pulled away and whispered into his ear, "I want you to rape me."

He replied, "It only matters what I want. You will do exactly as I say." Then he put his hand around her throat and pinned her to the wall of the elevator. "Do you understand me, you little slut?"

"Yes, sir." She replied, docile, almost simpering, her bottom lip tremulous. The door to the elevator opened and he grabbed her by the hair with his left hand, and used his right hand to put both her other hands behind her back and hold them there. They walked down the hallway - not a long walk, but a shameful one, her figure prone, prostrate. Servile.

When they got to the door, he whispered into her ear, "Don't move...your hands." He pulled out his key card and pushed the door open with her body, pushing her through the door roughly. When the door was fully open, he shoved her and she fell into the room. He stepped in and closed the door behind him, locked the chain. When he turned around, she was on her knees with her eyes down. "Good girl. Tell me, what is your safe word?"

She replied confidently, quickly, "Red."

"You will say, 'Sir', understood? Good. I see you've done this before. Now get up and bend over the bed, slut. You've been naughty tonight."

She moved to the bed and spread her legs, bending over and putting her hands down to support her torso. She was wearing a little black cocktail dress, the bottom of it inching up her legs as she spread them and bent over. He grabbed her by the hair again and pulled her head back.

Smack! She let out a yelp. The feel of her ass on his hand stung just as much as it stung her - a kind of subtle masochism, because in every sadist lives a masochist. "Count, sub."

"One sir. Unh, two. Three. Four. Five." The smacking continued, each one a little bit harder. He pulled up her dress to her waist and noticed she wasn't wearing any underwear.

"Naughty girl. You were looking to get fucked tonight. To get hurt. I like that." Her body was shivering, possibly from the air conditioning, but most likely from the pain she was in, and the fun she was having. He started again, getting into a rhythm: Smack, smack, smack, rub around the area lewdly, occasionally brushing her dripping wet labia with his fingers. Smack, smack, smack, rub. By the time he was done, she had counted to thirty. His hand was as red and purple as her ass.

"Thank you, sir. Please fuck me, I just want you to fuck me now. Please sir. I beg you." She was whimpering from the pain of her raw, swollen ass. He pulled her up by the hair and threw her up against the wall. He moved behind her and turned her around, pressing her backward, warm ass pressed to the cold wall. He left her skirt on, but grabbed a condom from the drawer next to him.

"Suck it, bitch." She immediately knelt in front of him and pulled his pants down. His erect penis was already standing at full attention. She grabbed it by the base and jammed her mouth down over it eagerly. She bobbed up and down with her greedy little mouth, sticking her tongue out to lick the underside of the shaft even as the head of his cock touched nearly the base of her tongue. He grabbed her hair and shoved her down further, gagging her. He held her there, pushing her down, penetrating into her throat, going beyond her tongue, deep inside.

She could feel it starting to raise her gorge, so she pushed back. He let her breathe, pulling out of her mouth. As she caught her breath, he open-handed slapped her. Her face moved to the side and she fell back a little. He spit in her face and her hands wavered, trying to block it, failing. It oozed down her face like light red paint dripping down a painting, colored from the wine he'd been drinking earlier.

He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up by it, slamming her back against the wall. He slipped on the condom quickly and lifted her up by the legs, pinned her to the wall. He entered her roughly and slipped easily into her thick, slick wetness. She let out a sigh. "Agghh, fuck, fuck me!" She was practically screaming. Her butt bounced against the wall painfully - whack, whack, whack as he pumped in and out of her.

She couldn't do anything but pull on his ass harder and faster and hang on for dear life. She turned her head skyward as he bit her neck. Within seconds, he had to put his hand over her mouth, because she was screaming out orgasm after orgasm, the energy releasing itself all at once. Her entire body was shaking with shock. The sensation of having her ass pressed against the wall and a thick tree-trunk slammed into her pussy almost made her pass out.

He slowed down and pulled out. She slowly let her legs go back to the floor, still shaky. She leaned on him for support, and he moved her back to the bed. He bent over over it and said, "Now it's my turn. Hold your ass cheeks apart for me."

She did as she was told, but said, "Red. I just ask that you go slowly. Go ahead."

"Very well." He grabbed the lube he also kept in the condom drawer out and slathered some on her, its cool tingling tickled. He put the head of his penis up to her hole and slowly pressed. She spread apart very slowly. He met a lot of resistance, but she didn't cry out or even tell him to slow down. She had a look of concentration on her face, eyes closed and lips slightly parted. One hand was on her clitoris, tugging the hood back and forth. Eventually, he'd fit the full thick six inches in and pressed his pelvis against her.

He'd stepped out of his pants when he stepped over to the bed. He was the one shivering now, but it was not from the air conditioning. It was from a woman who was smiling at him when he fucked her in the ass. He moved out slowly and pushed back in. She used her other hand to guide him. He moved at the speed she wanted. He grabbed her hair passionately, and her hip with his other hand. She didn't have to hold her cheeks apart anymore; he was sliding in and out quickly and powerfully. She felt so used, so taken, so completely filthy.

"Yes, sir, fuck my ass. Fuck it harder. Ohhh fuck, yes. God damnit. Holy shit. I'm going to cum again. Sir, may I cum again? Please?"

"You will wait until I'm ready, understood, whore?"

"Yes, sir."

But he was about to cum anyway. It didn't take him long, because of her beautiful smile. Lips so red, slightly messed up from the blow job. "Cum now," he said, more of a growl as he neared climax.

As she began to scream again and squirt it out all over the bed, he came hard, releasing a goldmine worth of fluid into the condom, inside her butt. He hunched over her back, unable to control himself, collapsing on top of her. He lifted the hair from the back of her neck and kissed her neck gently, sucking on each vertebrae individually as she shivered against him. He slowly slipped out of her, soft now, but happier than he'd been in a long time.

"You please me." He said with a big smile and a sigh.

"That was the best sex I've ever had. Can we do this again? I feel like a part of my life was missing, one in which I get to be my real self. Other men don't understand that. I hope you do."

He thought about it for a moment. "Of course. I only visit here for work these days - I live in Florida. But we can make this a regular thing if you want. Do you want a relationship with me, or just sex?"

"Let's just do sex for now. I won't sleep with other people if you won't, but I have to get to know you better if we're to have a real relationship. Is that okay, sir?" She said.

He chuckled. "Yes," he said. "I would have insisted it be that way, but wanted to make sure it was okay too." He gave a little laugh again and rolled off of her. He took off the condom and put it in the trash can. "You don't have to call me sir if you don't want to, not outside of sex. Come here babe, I want to snuggle." He put his arm around her and pulled her close to him. She lifted her head up and he held her hair out of the way, and she put her head over his arm, resting gently on the muscles there. He held her butt against him, nuzzling up against her ear, sometimes nibbling it, sometimes flicking it around with his tongue.

As his hands played over her clavicles, she fell asleep, getting wetter and wetter. He just hugged her and held her and protected her. He whispered to her as she slept, "I will try very hard to make you happy, sweet lady."

The end of Part 1 of the story of The Night King. 

The Night King Pt. 02



He had been feeling romantic, so after dinner this time, he decided to give her a shoulder rub and kiss up and down her back and neck. Her earth-brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, which made it easy. He kissed her neck down the vertebrae, down her back, leading to her butt, which he also kissed. You could visibly see the knots releasing in her back as his hands moved over her. He could see she was smiling, glittery red lipstain spread on lips, perfect teeth a masterpiece.

"How was your day, sweet lady?" John asked.

Peitho said, "I'm just glad it's Friday. Thank you for staying an extra day. I needed this so badly."

His soft hands rubbed her neck, moving her head slightly back and forth as they massaged the muscles down. They'd been drinking red wine in his room again, and he was starting to feel frisky.

He said, "Wait right here." He got off the top of her and off the bed and went to the corner of the room that had the window. He got a corner room again, of course; they loved him here.

He chose the paddle first. It was about four inches in width, about a foot long, and "stung like a motherfucker," as a former sub once told him. He also grabbed a ball-gag that looked like it would fit. She was still laying on her stomach on the bed, and she opened her mouth for the gag. He snapped it shut around the back of her head, and she adjusted it for comfort.

He decided on one final toy for now: a spreader bar. He affixed her arms and legs to the bar; it held her legs apart so he could always have access to her vagina, and made it so she couldn't move her arms very much, as the crosspiece connected to a piece that cuffed the wrists.

He said, "You comfortable?" She shook her head yes. "Good. If you need me to stop, raise two fingers and I'll stop."

He pulled her into position at the end of the bed and made sure she was comfortable again. The first ten hits or so were gentle, no more than a light spanking. Her ass slowly reddened, whack, whack, and that made ten. He rubbed her butt all over and ran a hand up her back, scratching with his nails as he did so, and grabbed her by the hair.

With hair in hand, he increased the strength of the hits. She began letting out little yelps with each one. He stopped periodically to rub her down and make sure she was fine.

He stopped after several strong hits. The paddle he'd been using was leaving large red marks on her ass and back of her thighs. He rubbed the area gently, silently hoping that it would bruise her. He wanted to break her this time. He badly wanted to mark her as his own. She wanted that, too.

He decided to switch to a different toy. He'd brought his collection with him this time to Boston. They were in the Marriott again and it was late; dark and cold outside, with a threat of rain, as always. He had cracked one window open to let in the musty smell of the rain clouds; he loved that smell. Plus, it helped keep the room generally cool, as he warmed her up like a hot plate.

Up next was a bundle of canes; they were made of high-quality, thin, light-weight plastic and they clinked together as he pulled them out of his suitcase.

"Are you okay? Do you want to continue, slut?" He said.

She nodded yes, though she couldn't see what toy he'd taken out. He smiled at the beautiful eyeliner she used, emphasizing her already-anime-sized eyes, beautiful and dark and lovely.

The canes whistled through the air. When they struck, she let out a near-scream, muffled only by the ball-gag he'd put on her before. She looked so beautiful, unable to say anything, unable to resist, unable to do anything but raise two fingers if he was to stop. They left a mark that looked incredible, red and already purpling welts the length of the canes, spread out slightly from the force of impact.

The canes whistled again like a steam engine, smack. Muffled scream. Tears were streaming from her eyes now. Still she did not put up her fingers. He rubbed the area. "You're doing really well, sub. I've decided to reward you."

He moved her up on the bed and laid down beneath of her, head just below the spreader bar. He pulled her back so that she sat directly on his face. He licked at her pussy like a man dying of thirst. It wasn't long before he could feel her shuddering, letting go. He sucked on the clitoris still, massaging her insides with his wet, wet tongue, and she moaned through the gag lewdly, and loudly.

He got up again. "Okay, let's roll you over now." She rolled awkwardly onto her back and he guided her legs with his hands. Her arms were held apart, leaving her beautiful breasts wide open. He took her right nipple between his index finger and thumb, and gently squeezed. Her eyes were closed in concentration. He used his left hand to do the same to her left nipple. He played around them until her nipples were rock hard. Then he squeezed harder, and could see her tense up. When he finally let go, they were shot red, and he slapped her breasts back and forth playfully. Each time he hit, she squirmed and let out a little, "Unh."

"You are mine. You are all mine. I will keep you safe. Now close your eyes, dear. I have a surprise for you." She did as she was told. He placed the alligator clamps on her nipples at the same time, and her eyes shot open. She grimaced, the tears starting up again. She was shaking her head back and forth, which made him want to slap her. So he did. It left a red mark like a target.

He was completely nude, and his erection was obvious, a thick tree-trunk of a dick. He began to hit her in the face with it, smacking it against the sides of her face, degrading her, hitting the target he'd just made. She tried to turn away, but he just pulled her face back toward him and kept hitting her. 

She stopped resisting finally. "Good. Now, you little cunt, I'm gonna take you, and you can't stop me."

He pushed her legs up next to her ears and that forced her hands above her head. She was so subdued, so naturally perfect. After putting on a condom, he rubbed his cock around her labia for a while, and then he slammed it into her.

She threw her head back. She was dripping wet, but even someone prepared for it would not expect it that fast and hard right away. He kept slamming all six inches of his cock in and out, in and out. He had the palm of one hand pressing against the top of her clitoral hood, while the other hand held her legs in place by the crossbar. You could hear the slick noises as he pounded her g-spot, angling just right. Squish, squish. "I've wanted you so badly, slut. God you are so amazing," he said.

She came again, mouth clamping down hard on the ball-gag, eyes squeezed shut as her legs shook in ecstasy. Her whole body was shaking, and she pushed back against the spreader bar. At almost the same time, he could feel the pressure building up all the way from his toes. His calves tightened up, then his hamstrings, his quadriceps, finally his ass. He kept slamming into her, her head was still thrown back, and he came so hard he thought he was going to die; he could feel the cum forcing its way from his cock like a fire-hydrant trying to push water through a garden hose. He groaned loudly and let go a deep, rumbling boom. "Oooooouuughhhhh fucccckkkk."

He slipped out of her and pulled off the condom and began to clean up. He popped the quick-release from her ball-gag and she used her tongue to push it out, since she was still spread. When he removed the alligator clips, she let out a loud sigh. They were red, marked. While she couldn't defend herself, he sucked on her nipples gently, lapping at them with his tongue, flicking them back and forth; then he blew on them, warm air made cool by the saliva. They rehardened and they were happy.

Her butt and thighs were abstract paintings of red and blue and purple. Even as they dozed, she could feel each and every mark he made as she pressed back against him, content, and used up. He had broken her. She was his now.

The End of Part 2