Maria's Night

By Succubus

Somewhere in the night, children slept, their little bodies curled beneath their blankets, lost in dreams. Somewhere in the night, couples made love: the joined sweat of their efforts dripped down their bodies; the shared scent of their arousal hung thick in the air. Somewhere in the night terror lived and walked and breathed, with a name, a face, a need.

Maria sat in a foamy bath, her small form all but buried under the bubbles. Smiling, she stretched her legs one at a time, the bubbles and water dripping from each as she did. She watched the creamy water run across her skin, catching light from the candles. With a sigh, she settled back in, reaching for her glass of wine. Finally a chance to relax. Work had simply been too much lately. This little vacation was exactly what was needed. No patients screaming at her, no doctors screaming at her, just her cat to scream at her for now.

Restlessly, Maria ran the soap across her body, lathering it slowly. The creamy soap slid across her skin, tingeing her caramel skin a blue-ish white. Her hands slid over each leg, rubbing at the sore muscles, delighting in her own smooth skin. Up her belly and across her chest, she rubbed the soap onto her. Her palms circled against her small breasts, teasing her nipples into hard little pebbles of flesh. With a secret smile to herself, Maria felt her pulse quicken slightly, heard her own breaths grow ragged.

The look of pleasure on her face was sweet, a gentle thing that showed mostly in her half-lidded eyes, in their sparkle. Her mouth opened slightly and her eyes closed as her hands slid lower and she gave herself up to her fantasies...

It was a powerful fantasy, one she'd had most of her life. In it, the man was faceless, nameless; a dark hulking figure who stood over her, around her. She was utterly exposed before him, completely open and at his mercy. Her hand slid over her thigh and imagined it was his hand.

Her body rocked slightly in the tub, bubbles and water spilling out onto the tiles. The cat ran off, angry over the bubbles still clinging to his back.

The candles fluttered. Maria saw herself in her mind, her belly flat against a bed, her weight pressed into the mattress by his body. Her hands were stretched tight over her head, held there by gloved fingers, anonymous fingers. She felt his breath hot against her neck, and squirmed, pressing her ass back against him. More water spilled from the tub.

Feverishly now, Maria's fingers rubbed at her clit, slid inside of her, her fingers hopeless as they tried to duplicate what her fantasy lover did. Her body rocked and arched.

She imagined him holding her there, pinned to the bed, imagined the feel of his hot mouth against her neck, licking at her back. Little moans came from her, moans of pleasure, and of frustration. Still, she pushed herself further, burying her fingers inside herself as she imagined his cock driving into her with force, of her fantasy lover taking her as only he could. She felt the pressure rising up inside her and knew this was it. Her palm pressed at her clit, her fingers thrust inside her heat, and then with a small cry, she was over the edge, her body writhing in the tub, her nerves exploding with the pleasure.

Slowly Maria opened her eyes, instantly disappointed at reality once more crashing in on her. She looked about her little bathroom with a sigh, then rinsed off. She stepped from the tub definitely more relaxed than when she went in, but far more frustrated. Why did masturbation always have this quick, hard come down? Sighing to herself, she rubbed her dark hair with the towel. She stopped for a moment, looking at herself in the mirror. Not bad, she supposed. At 30, she still looked like a teenager, her small athletic build and heart shaped face having kept her looking young. Drying the last of the water from her body, she slid into her robe, blowing out the candles and grabbing her wine before leaving the bathroom.

Under the eave in the back of the house, where a clear view of the bathroom could be found, he sat, a smile on his face. How nice of her to provide him with a show tonight, he thought, such a good little slut. With this he chuckled softly to himself. He knew Maria intimately. Well, ok, maybe not as intimately as he wanted, but he knew her better than anyone else, that was certain. He'd been watching her for some time. He knew her habits, her schedule. He knew how she looked as she slept, and how she looked when she came. He even knew the little details that boyfriends over looked. All her different smiles, all her guilty hidden secrets and pleasures--all of her was exposed for his greedy sight. Now, tonight, she would know him.

He waited outside, cloaked in the shadows for a time, trying to discern the best possible time and place for his entry onto the scene. As he saw her heading for the basement steps, he knew this was his chance. Moving silently around the bushes, he stepped up to the sliding door at the back of her house. With a quick push, the door slid wide open. He smiled, pleased that the door was unlocked. Like she knew he was coming.

The old wooden stairs creaked as Maria went down into the basement. A chill that hung forever on the air in here hit her bare skin, the damp cold making her pull her robe more tightly around her. The basement walls were the old unfinished stone, the floor of cement, so it was with a wince from the cold on her feet that Maria hit the bottom of the steps. It was creepy down here, the pipes raw overhead, the corners full of spider webs. She turned right, to where the washer and dryer sat against one stone wall.

She hummed softly to herself as she put the clean laundry into the basket, her own voice comforting in the silence of the basement. She couldn't hear anything down here. She listened hard for the music she'd left playing upstairs. Nope, not a peep. Quickly she looked behind her, then laughed at herself. She was creeping herself out. She laughed again, shaking her head at the childhood fears which never quite leave, even when you're a grown-up. She was about to turn on the dryer with the next load of clothes waiting in it when she heard a sound, from overhead.

Her breath caught in her throat and she froze, her own heart suddenly quite loud in her ears. She listened hard. There it was, another sound, a creak, like...what was it like? Like wood, a creak like wood. Bending under a weight. Fuck.

She pulled her robe tightly against her and moved forward silently. A click had her frozen in place again. It was the lock on the basement door. Heart hammering in her chest, a small whine came from Maria and her eyes grew wide. Unconsciously, she stepped back, away from the stairs, but was unable to take her eyes off of them. A boot appeared on a step, then another on the next. Slowly, heavily, a man descended.

Maria backed up as much as she could; another little whine came from her lips as her foot twisted and she stumbled, her back hitting against the stone wall. Still, step by step the man came down the stairs, first his boots, then pants, now a gloved hand. She stared mesmerized. In his hand he held a small knife. His black shirt now clearly showed, and above it, his face came into view.

Straight brown hair hung almost over his eyes. The eyes themselves were small, pinpoints of lights, little sparks set deeply in his face. His face looked worn, rough. Small scars showed here and there; the nose looked as if it too had seen better days, for it sat slightly askew on his face. A smile seemed to light up his face, a feral smile--the smile of a predator.

Maria held her breath; the moment dragged on as she faced this stranger. She felt frozen, pinned in place. The man looked at her slowly, eyeing her body up and down.

He'd waited so long for this. He stood still, watching her. He wanted the reality to fully sink into her: to see the fear enter her eyes, to watch as her mind coped with her vulnerable position. He waited for her to know, to really know, what was going to happen to her. Maria began to tremble slightly, her eyes snapping back and forth between the knife and the smile, the knife and the smile, as if not sure which she should fear more.

With a chuckle, he stepped toward her. His movement broke Maria's trance, and suddenly her mind was working again. "Who are you?" she gasped out, willing her voice to sound steady, trying to keep the hysteria she felt from it, "What do you want?"

The stranger just stepped forward again, that smile on his face.

"Please..." Maria half-whispered, not really knowing what the please was for. The cold stone pressed into her back. Still he advanced.

"Stop, go away!" she yelled now, fear giving her the extra boost she needed to sound brave. "Leave me alone," she whimpered, her bravery faltering with each step he took.
Her eyes cast left and right, looking for something, anything: a way to escape, a weapon of any kind. Nothing. The basement was almost entirely empty. She edged to the right, towards where the stairs were, and he mirrored her step. She dodged quickly to the left and he simply stepped forward, cutting off her escape with a hand of steel against her throat. She gasped, and suddenly the scream she'd been searching for tore out of her mouth, but came out as a harsh gargle. He smiled and shook his head a little, as if to say, "now, now, don't be silly."

He lifted the knife up to Maria's cheek, and pressed the flat of the blade against her. Her eyes were wide with panic. The cold steel pressed against her skin, the sharp edge just barely pushing against her cheek. All she could think of was her face sliced up. God, no, please, not that. He felt her whimpers against his gloved hand.

"I wouldn't recommend moving any, do you understand?" he asked her. She nodded almost imperceptibly, and he let go of her throat, his gloved hand sliding down her chest. He pulled the bathrobe open, revealing her to his sight. About time he got a good close-up view of her.

Maria's nipples grew taut and goosebumbs broke out across her body as the cold damp air hit her skin. Her bottom lip quivered, her teeth chattering from the fear and the cold.

Slowly, gently, he ran his gloved hands across her breasts. Maria's body shook more and more, her trembles running down her body. Her knees were weak, she was certain she'd fall, and in panic she tried to hold herself utterly still. All her mind could fasten on was the knife against her face.

He watched her carefully, never taking his eyes from her face, feeding on the fear he found there. Sliding his gloved hand slowly, he moved the blade lower, caressing her face, then her lips, then her chin with it. He pulled his other hand off of her body and pressed his palm against her cheek, the cool impersonal leather sending more trembles through her. The cold steel touched gently at her throat and she whined, a pitiful sound of defeat. He stepped closer; the smell of his cologne invaded her nose.

Maria felt herself pushing back against the stones, felt them digging painfully at her back as he pressed his body to hers. His breath was hot on her face. As much as she wanted to turn away from his scrutiny, the blade at her neck kept her perfectly still. She felt the rough cotton weave of his shirt against her breasts, felt his course jeans pressing into her belly, his readiness apparent beneath them. She closed her eyes tight, her mind saying "no" over and over again in her head, but her lips remained silent.

Pressing himself against her, he held his hand flat against her cheek, and then licked out at her face, licking across her lips. Shock from the sensation made Maria's eyes open wide again. Fear made her swallow hard. His tongue snaked across her exposed cheek, and Maria closed her eyes again as revulsion swept through her. This couldn't be happening.

The stranger moved the knife away from Maria's neck, and whispered low on her ear. "Now you'll be very good, won't you? I'm not going to have to hurt you, am I?" His fingers latched once more on her throat and Maria shook her head slightly. "No of course not," he chuckled. He drew his head back, looking at her again, his body still pressing her into the wall. Playfully, he slapped at her face with one gloved hand. Three quick, short slaps. Barely enough to sting. A small noise came from Maria, and the stranger smiled again. He licked out at her cheek, licking where his hand had just been. Her face twisted up as he coat her cheek with his saliva, his tongue grotesquely intimate.

Stepping back, he roughly grabbed at Maria's hair, bunching it into his fist, and jerked her forward. Squealing from the shock, she stumbled forward slightly, off balance. She righted herself and looked up at him just in time to see the gloved hand come crashing against her face, the slap stinging tears into her eyes. She yelped, but the sound was cut off by another slap, then another, and still more. He slapped her face, his hand holding her still by her hair. Her hands scrambled to loosen his hand from her hair, tried ineffectually to ward off his blows. Sobbing out loud, she covered her face with his hands, crying hard. Her face felt half numb and swollen, yet stung deep down. She could feel it like a bruise against her cheek.

He pushed her back against the wall, again, the air leaving her body with a whoosh as her back hit hard into the stones. She stumbled and crouched against the wall, her vision filled for a moment with nothing but his boots. Then his hand was in her hair once more, jerking her up, onto her feet. His mouth latched onto hers before she could even catch a breath, and he was kissing her, trying to slide his tongue into her mouth. Maria squirmed and fought, trying to push his head away. He stepped back and slapped her again, much harder; this time she went reeling. She stumbled on the concrete floor, then fell, landing in a heap.

He was on her before she even knew it. His hands pulled the robe out of his way and he pushed her flat on the ground, his weight holding her down as he lay on top of her. Uselessly she struggled under him, her body writhing and twisting, trying to buck him off of her. She clawed at his face, not caring anymore, her mind gone savage as she fought beneath him. His hands grabbed at hers, pulling them together and over her head, stretching them away from her body. Her chest thrust up towards him tauntingly.

He grinned, watching her struggle, watching her realize there was no hope, that she would not escape. There was nothing she could do to stop him.

He waited for her to still again, then he pressed his hand between their bodies, undoing his pants and freeing his hard cock. She felt the hot flesh press against her cunt and dread filled her. He licked at her tears as they ran down her face. She tried to move her hips to each side, tried to to stop him from entering her. He looked down at her face, poised, ready, until she looked up at him. Then he forced his length into her, hard, deep, stabbing into her.

Her shriek filled the basement, echoing off the stones and concrete. Ruthlessly he pounded himself into her. Her cries just egged him on. He covered her mouth with his free hand, just in case, and fucked into her with all the force he could.

Maria sobbed as he brutally raped her, each thrust pushing her back into the hard concrete painfully. Grunting, he came, his seed flooding into her. A shiver of revulsion and nausea ran through her. He lay still for a moment, breathing heavily, his weight pressing into her as she lay sobbing beneath him.

The man climbed off of Maria carefully, making sure she wasn't going to surprise him with any fight. Hopefully he'd fucked most of the initial fight out of her. Besides, she probably thought it was over now. If he didn't enjoy her so much, he'd feel sorry for her.

Maria curled into a ball sobbing as the man stepped away, her mind trying to not think about what had just happened to her. "Please, just leave now," she thought to herself, "just go." She closed her eyes tight, willing him gone. She heard his steps grow closer, and opened her eyes to the sight of his boots inches from her cheek. She trembled, feeling his gaze on her. A shadow passed the corner of her vision, and she felt his hand grip her hair again, yanking on it, pulling her up off the ground.

Maria whimpered, a small "no" snuck out of her mouth, and then she was being walked forward. He pushed at her until she was facing the wall, her belly pressed tightly against it by a hand pushing at her lower back. She twisted, then yelped and stilled as he yanked hard on her hair. Her hands clawed at the old stone.

From out of the man's pocket came a roll of duct tape. Deftly he wrapped the tape around one of Maria's wrists. She struggled, but half-heartedly. He pulled her hand over her head, then pulled her other hand up to join it, binding her wrists tightly in the tape. The low ceiling and exposed pipes seemed made for this, he thought as he fastened her wrists to a pipe overhead. He stepped back, admiring his handiwork.

Maria stood, her soft, warm beauty nicely contrasted with the rough stone walls and industrial look of the basement. He admired her ass, watching as it jiggled slightly with each shaky breath the girl took. Testing, he slapped at her ass, enjoying how it bounced. He slapped again harder, and watched as the handprint went from white to bright red on her ass.

He pressed himself against her, his hands snaking around her body to grab at her tits, squeezing them, making the nipples graze against the stone. He yanked her body tight against his, her arms pulling against the tape. He let go of her breasts, sliding his hands down her side, then back onto her ass, petting at her. He dropped to one knee behind her, then pulled her ass cheeks apart, exposing her to him completely. He ran the tip of one gloved finger against her asshole.

Maria gasped at this new sensation. His finger probed more, pushing against her, trying to worm into her. She moved slightly, trying to stop this horrible finger. Her movements only served to help him as he slid his finger into her ass, the leather dry and rough against her. Deeper and deeper he penetrated her as she whimpered and whined, the discomfort changing to pain as he began thrusting his finger into her ass. Abruptly, he withdrew it. He could hear her suck in a lungful of air as his mouth lowered to her puckered ass. Obscenely, he began to lick at it.

Maria thought she was going to be sick. His tongue wouldn't stop, it circled her ass. His hands latched onto her hips and he pulled her back towards him, driving his tongue into her. This was worse than the pain, this was truly degrading, a mockery of tenderness, what he did, licking and sucking at her. Just when she thought she couldn't take it any more, he stopped, and her hips moved back, thrusting her towards him more.

The man chuckled at Maria; she had seemed to start enjoying that. He heard her noises and knew her face was burning red from shame. It amused him.  Giving her a moment to catch her breath and wonder "what next?” he slid his pants down. He leaned against the woman, his cock pressing between her ass cheeks, and whispered low and even in her ear:

"You're so much better than I had imagined, Maria. So many nights I have watched you waiting for this moment, when I could do as I please. Did you feel me watching you? And tonight, when I watched you take your bath, the way you touched yourself, I knew I couldn't wait any longer."

Maria suddenly realized what he was saying, that he'd been watching her, following her. She struggled against the duct tape, crying out in her frustration, desperate to escape no matter what the cost. And that was when he entered her.

He slapped his hand over her mouth, smothering the ear splitting scream that tore from the girl. She struggled like an animal gone mad. He licked at her back and bit at her neck as he fucked into her ruthlessly, stretching her ass wide, tearing her open.  He moved his hand down to her pussy, rubbing at her clit, sliding a gloved finger deep in her cunt, feeling his cock inside of her.

Maria sobbed from the pain, her body scraped with each thrust by the rough wall. The tears coursed down her cheeks and over his hand still pressed tightly on her mouth. Savagely he fucked her, each thrust plunging in seemingly deeper than the one before. Suddenly, his fingers pinched at her clit and she felt her body go tight and taut. She couldn't! Yes, she was going to come. She sobbed futilely then screamed as orgasm hit, her mind gone blank from too much: too much shock, too much pain, and now this, the pleasure:  she couldn't encompass it all.

He smiled, feeling her response, knowing this would be the hardest thing for her to face. He lunged into her again, burying his cock in her ass and cumming.

He stayed there for a moment, relishing the feel of her trembling body, then fastened his pants. He took a long last look at her standing against the wall, shaking, and then he turned and walked out, leaving Maria hanging from the pipes.