Chapter 1 - The Newest Night

(Tags/CW: Femdom, Bloodplay, Rape, Female/Male, Knifeplay, Fellatio, Deepthroat, Choking, Biting, Rough sex, Slapping, Vaginal sex, Girl-on-top)


In the humid darkness of a summer night, Night Empress crouched on top of a suburban street light with all the patience and grace of a black vulture. From time to time, a breeze passed by, but failed to disturb her. Perhaps not even a hurricane could disturb Night Empress and her obsessive pursuit of what laid ahead. To relax herself, Night Empress pulled out a stiletto she kept in her boot and licked it for the tenth time for tonight. The way it gleamed even in meager light injected a rejuvenating shot of adrenaline up her spine. She returned the knife to its holster and patted it. 
 
“Wait just a little bit longer,” she said. “The longer we wait, the sweeter the terror will be.” Night Empress looked below to where her objective rested. The house was an impressive suburban edifice that stood two stories tall with a fresh coat of white paint. In front of the house was a flower garden of vibrant colors and diversity. Night Empress wondered what all those pretty colors would look like torn up and scattered to her target in the morning.
 
Still staring and waiting, Night Empress’ eyes had an uncanny focus to them, not much suited to a human - then again, Night Empress wasn’t exactly human in the first place; she was a Meta, and like many of her supernaturally-gifted kin, had abilities that were as powerful as they were fearsome. Alongside the typical super strength and enhanced reflexes all Metas possessed, Night Empress’ was able turn into living shadows; a fact she displayed pride through her homemade costume. 
 
Night Empress wore a black robe lined with Kevlar, a ragged black tank top, grey steel-toed boots, black jeans filled with holes, and her favorite part of the ensemble, a crow masquerade mask made with real feathers. Being able to shift into a shadowform made sneaking up on crows an easy task for her.
 
Even as she waited for the right moment to strike, Night Empress ran a mental highlight reel of all the terror she inflicted and blood she spilled. Her favorite memories dealt with those who put up a futile fight. The way those men died by Night Empress’ hand made her breath grow ragged and panties slick. 
 
Night Empress shook herself out of the wonderful, murderous memories. “Why remember the past when a beautiful future lays before you?” she asked herself before jumping to the glittering asphalt below.
 
Night Empress hit the ground as a shadow so hard, smoky tendrils of darkness whipped about her body but did no damage to her being - immaterial things never shattered. Regardless, the feeling of shadow turning into flesh excited Night Empress to the point of silent hysteria. Even the mostly still night air felt like the tongue of an obsessive lover lapping all over her body from top to bottom. Night Empress’ panting left as hollow echoes. She allowed her bodily sensitivity to adjust before moving onwards. 
 
She ran straight and light as an arrow towards the garden bed she saw from above. Solidifying her hands, Night Empress tore at the flowers until the bed laid bare as a desert. Afterwards, Night Empress deeply inhaled the sweet scent of summer flowers stuck on her hands. Whether by madness or coincidence, the smell and stickiness reminded Night Empress of a man she once tore apart with her bare hands. She moved onwards to the house’s side, hoping to make new memories.
 
Night Empress flowed up a downspout quicker than a spider, rematerializing on the roof. She slowed down to catch her breath – what a rush! By now, Night Empress struggled to tell if sweat or arousal fluids painted her lower thighs. Ignoring the wetness, Night Empress approached two windows by the gravel-shingled roof. She used her powers to slip in through a crack in the window no wider than a pencil.
 
“Easier every time,” she whispered to herself as no boast. To Night Empress, security was but an lie mundanes told themselves to avoid reality. Many years ago, she attempted to keep track of how many places she broke into at night. Within two months, she lost count. Instead of reminiscing again, Night Empress let her eyes adjust to the low light. Ironic as it was, she lacked night vision despite being able to turn into shadows. The thought always made her giggle.
 
The room was a spare space packed with dusty boxes and other miscellanea -  vacuums, paintings, and other junk like that. 
 
Night Empress pouted. Effectively being a homeless vigilante, Night Empress took any and all opportunities to take things she needed, but this room was too much of a mess for that. Even one wrong step would cause an unneeded amount of noise. She also had more pressing goals than seeking out a pair of sweatpants or bras her size at the moment. Despite it all, Night Empress still had lusts she needed to sate. 
 
Expertly maneuvering around the crowded room, Night Empress made her way out the room and into an open hallway. She closed the door behind her and tapped the doorknob four times with a bare finger. Inane as it looked, Night Empress considered the touching an important good luck ritual. Not doing the ritual led to stress that clouded her mind like an urban smog.
 
Night Empress discovered the kitchen after going down two flights of stairs. With her hand, she touched its granite island and poked at a stainless steel sink. Interesting as those were to her, Night Empress did not come to grope at her mark’s kitchen, but to look into the refrigerator.
 
It was like some form of perverted therapy that she had even developed another odd ritual for. Night Empress poked through the fridge is search of everything to take a single bite of then dispose. Metas required a lower calorie count than humans to operate, but with every mark there came a secondary prize for her: Binging. 
 
Night Empress picked through the well-stocked refrigerator in a slight trance, sinking her teeth into cucumbers, lunch meats, onions, apples, cheeses, pears – everything that could be bitten once and tossed back in. The food didn’t nourish her, it was the sense of violation and intrusion she glutted on. When the feeding was done and Night Empress’ stomach was half-full, she loudly belched into her elbow’s crook. The scent was like a fresh garden salad.
 
Night Empress giggled to herself. “Excuse me,” she said to nobody.
 
Now was the time for the true prize. Night Empress returned upstairs and picked out what she assumed was the master bedroom. Easy as Night Empress breathed, she turned into pure shadow and slipped under the door like flooding water.
 
Inside, a man slept on his stomach in a king-sized bed. This was it. This was the prize of flesh. Night Empress’ heart thundered. Graphic, exciting visions of violating her new play-thing ran through her head. Night Empress crept towards the sleeping man to get a better look of her quarry. He had a muscular back covered in pale skin dotted with freckles. His hair was dirty blonde. On his peaceful face was a slight beard of red hair that matched his hard, broad-faced features. He was a large man in a bigger bed perfect for a lover, or in this case, Night Empress.
 
“Sleeping in the nude, Marcel?” she whispered to him, not expecting an answer. “Cockiness or stupidity?”
 
With a silent, skillful hand, Night Empress pulled out her stiletto, and like a wildcat with claws bared, she pounced on his back. Her blade touched Marcel’s throat with an uncanny gentleness. Marcel desperately struggled beneath Night Empress until he realized a knife was to his jugular. He surrendered as quickly as he tried to resist.
 
Night Empress beamed, damn near drinking in his submission as tingles of power ran through her. A large spot appeared between her legs, and she wondered if Marcel could smell what awaited him.
 
“Scream and I end it all, Marcel Waters,” she commanded. “Nod if you can hear me.”
 
“How do you know my name-“ 
 
Night Empress smashed Marcel in the back of his head, causing him to grit his teeth as pain flooded his skull. The pitiful look on Marcel’s face made Night Empress want to lose what little restraint she had. “Feel that? I’m a Meta. That makes me stronger, faster, and pretty much better than you in most ways,” she said. “So like I was saying, shut the fuck up and nod if you can hear me. Or do I have to hit you again?”
 
Marcel vigorously nodded despite the lingering pain in the back of his head.
 
“Fantastic. My name is Night Empress and you may have heard of my exploits. I don’t need your introduction, so I’m going to lay down some ground rules. One, every time I tap my knife on your throat, you have permission to speak. I’ll tell you when to stop. Two, like I’ve previously said, screaming will get you killed. Don’t do that. And three, refer to me only as Empress for tonight. Tell me if you heard that correctly.” Night Empress tapped her cold knife on Marcel’s hot throat skin.
 
“I heard everything,” said Marcel in a low, yet panicked voice.
 
Night Empress tapped the spot where she struck Marcel’s skull. The touch caused him to wince. “I’m sorry, what did I tell you?”
 
“I heard everything, Empress.”
 
Night Empress stroked Marcel’s hair with her free hand. “For such a bad boy, you’re a good listener, you know what? Stay still, I’m going to cuff you. Show me your hands.”
 
Night Empress secured his hands with a pair of handcuffs covered in anti-reflective black paint. Just for him, she made them extra tight around his meaty wrists, making Marcel groan in pain as the steel bit into his flesh. Once that was done, Night Empress got off of Marcel to flip him on his back and returned to straddle his chest with muscular thighs. Now face to face, Night Empress gave Marcel a good look of his soon-to-be-tormentor. “Like what you see, Marcel?”
 
 Night Empress’ skin had a deep brown tone, as exotic as her unknown heritage. She had pinkish full lips that smiled into a smug sneer. Curly black hair fell from her head in thick waves. What feature caught the most of Marcel’s attention were her eyes. He thought it was the darkness of the room playing tricks on his vision, but upon closer inspection, he saw that her irises were darker than obsidian discs. 
 
He swallowed – hard.
 
“You have a cute face for a rapist,” she casually remarked. “Why did you need to go and do that?” Night Empress tapped his throat.
 
“What?” Marcel said, shocked. “I don’t even know who you are and yet you’re accusing me of rape? I didn’t rape anybody, Empress.” Cuffs or no cuffs, Night Empress knew that Marcel was too terrified to even put up a decent fight.
 
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” she said. “I cannot accuse a guilty man already in cuffs.”
 
“Please stop accusing me of rape,” he protested. “Seriously, what the fuck did I do to deserve this, Empress?”
 
“The more stupid games you play, the worse I’ll hurt you,” said Night Empress, voice rising in anger. “You poor, silly prick. You might figure yourself as clever, but I consider it an unwise move to play dumbass with me.”
 
“Please calm down, Empress,” he suggested, eyes going wild with fear. “You don’t need to get angry at me, okay?”
 
With the hilt of her stiletto, Night Empress struck Marcel sharply across the thick bridge of his nose. This caused him to groan as pitiful trickles of blood left his nostrils.
 
“You keep playing stupid games with me and winning stupid prizes. Do you have a death wish?” she asked while taking her mask off and casting it to the side.
 
As Marcel opened his lips to speak, Night Empress rushed to meet them in a savage kiss; it wasn’t a thing of passion nor desire, but a move of sheer domination. She thought Marcel needed a reminder of who was the one in charge. Night Empress grew wetter at the way Marcel helplessly writhed under her powerful body. With her slippery tongue, she forced the taste of mint and tomato she had eaten earlier on down his throat. Before she pulled away, Night Empress bit down on Marcel’s lower lip, causing him to yelp in pain. Marcel’s blood tasted rich and thick on Night Empress’ tongue.
 
Marcel quivered in a uncomfortable mixture of utter disgust, mortal fear, and rising lust. He grimaced with teeth painted red. Tears rolled down the sides of his head. “Please,” he begged. “Don’t kill me. I have a wife and three kids, Empress”
 
“I know that,” said Night Empress, planting a bloody kiss on his forehead “I’m curious about that. Where are the wife and kids? Don’t be scared to tell me.”
 
“What? So you can do this to them too-“
 
Night Empress pinched Marcel’s fresh lip wound to silence him, and admired how quickly he produced silent tears of agony. “Do I have to cut your tongue out to stop this sudden uptick in backtalk? I’d hate to do that, so work with me and tell me where they are.” She let go of the lip and tasted the blood on her fingertips.
 
“The kids are here. My wife went on a business trip. Please don’t hurt any of them, I’m begging you, Empress”
 
Night Empress gently pressed the tip of her knife against Marcel’s mouth wound. She brought it to her mouth for a another taste. “I wouldn’t do that. I’m not a monster, just somebody extracting justice. I would never get innocents involved… directly, that is.”
 
“What? What would you have done if my wife was here, Empress?”
 
“I would’ve tied her up and jammed her in a closet or something. She probably doesn’t deserve to see the things I’m going to do to you tonight. But if she tried to stop me, I would’ve made her watch.”
 
“You’re fucking insane,” Marcel blurted out.
 
Night Empress slapped Marcel across his cheek, making it red as a cherry. “I told you to address me as Empress, idiot,” she said, the words dripping with menace. “You should know that wasn’t the first time I’ve been called insane. I used to be respected. I used to be a legal Meta with all the nice backing and support of public and private resources. Then I got ‘too zealous’ for seeking justice for those weaker then me. How do you think that makes me feel, Marcel?”
 
“What?” Marcel’s bleeding lip shuddered. The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning: A super-powered madwoman had broken into his house to force herself on him. Marcel uttered a low groan of absolute terror. “God help me.”
 
“God helps those who helps himself, and you’re a helpless bastard tonight.” Night Empress threw her stiletto down on the room’s carpet. She pressed two hands on Marcel’s trembling throat and looked deep into his blue eyes. “Like it or not, you’re going to fuck me right now and right here.” She drove the statement deeper by running her tongue across Marcel’s sweaty face. The taste managed to make her even hornier.
 
Night Empress clamped her hands down harder and harder, watching as Marcel struggled to draw even a gasp into his lungs. She could end this right now, she thought, simply press down until his larynx gave way and he drowned in his own blood. But no, that wasn’t the plan for tonight. Disobeying the plan made Night Empress a nervous wreck. Just before she saw the light begin to flicker from his eyes, Night Empress let go of Marcel’s muscular throat and began taking off her clothes instead.
 
After removing her robe and tank top, Night Empress shook her small but perky chest at Marcel. She smiled at how he eyed her erect, chocolate-colored nipples. “Such a shame I needed to cuff you, but I can’t have those big hands being a big liability.”
 
Marcel had no response. He merely trembled as he struggled to catch his breath.
 
“Stop that, it was only a little choking. You’ll be fine.” Night Empress pivoted until her pert ass was towards Marcel’s face. When she removed the covers that obscured Marcel’s genitals, she smiled. Marcel had a hefty member, maybe seven to eight inches, well veined and throbbing with blood. A bead of precum sat on the helmet, almost begging to be sucked down. “Naughty boy! You must be one of those choking weirdos.”
 
Marcel grew deathly still as Night Empress greedily took him in her mouth. She fellated well for a partially sane Meta as she bobbed her head at just the right tempo, sucking on the head and shaft. Using her hands, both soft and rough all over, they had just enough friction to make Marcel grit his teeth at the stimulation they provided. Terrifying as Night Empress was, she had sick yet effective ways of treating a man.
 
“Plea-” Marcel words were cut by his grunt of pleasure, “Please, don’t do this to me…”
 
Night Empress came off of Marcel’s member with a wet pop, causing the tool to twitch with pleasure. “You can stop lying now,” she said. “You don’t just like this, you fucking love this. How do you think your wife would feel about you loving my mouth more than hers?”
 
Marcel now openly wept, chest heaving back and forth. “God forgive me,” he repeated between choking sobs.
 
“Stop ruining the mood,” said Night Empress, running a finger down Marcel’s thick penis. “All I need is your cock, not your useless tears.” She backed her words with action by taking Marcel’s cock all the way down her throat.
 
The rush of unbearable tightness and heat caused Marcel to buck his hips, thrusting deeper into Night Empress’ throat. She only struggled a little with the cock, and licked its sides with a deft tongue. In that moment, Night Empress felt Marcel relax, submitting to the forceful depths of her mouth and throat.
 
Abruptly, Night Empress stopped deep throating Marcel. After coughing and wiping her lips dry, she turned to Marcel and said, “Stopped fighting it, sweetheart?”
 
“I don’t know anymore, Empress,” he responded. “I’m just so tired of fighting. Please stop.”
 
“I can’t do that for you, Marcel,” said Night Empress as she pivoted again to face him. She drew little circles on his smooth chest with her finger. “I know you’re the type of man to sexually take, but I don’t operate on a one way street basis like that.”
 
“What do you mean, Empress?”
 
“That means I’m going on a ride until you black out.” Night Empress suddenly raked her claws across Marcel’s muscled chest. Multiple red lines blossomed across the expanse, some bled while others simply sat looking angry and red. Night Empress thought the colors looked delightful and vivid against his pale skin. “People like you break easier than you think.”
 
Marcel turned his head away in pained resignation as tears flooded his eyes. Night Empress hopped off of Marcel to remove her black jeans and soaked panties, and returned to Marcel’s lap. She was completely naked save for the raven mask placed back on her face.
 
At an agonizingly slow pace, Night Empress grinded her vulva against Marcel’s penis. The heat of Marcel’s stiffness nearly drove Night Empress mad. “Amazing. Even after all that sucking and fear, you’re still harder than a plank of wood. Admit it, you wanted this from the start.”
 
Marcel remained quiet, instead, choosing to close his eyes in a look pure shame that Night Empress thought was endearing.
 
“Really? You can’t play with me all night then decide to give me the quiet treatment.” Night Empress roughly grabbed Marcel’s dick and aligned it with her moist slit. “I can fix that attitude problem.” She lowered herself onto Marcel’ cock without haste, letting it spread her folds apart. The fullness it provided made her thighs spasm with pleasure. Fingers of feminine fluid crawled down Marcel’s cock.
 
Marcel grunted in response to the penetration. “My Empress…” he murmured, his eyes half-lidded.
 
“No,” said Night Empress as she moved her hips back and forth, slowly warming up to the massive cock within in body. “I’m not just your empress, but an empress to all things of the night.” She continued moving until her riding developed a comfortable pace that had both speed and depth. Sweat ran between her brown tits and down into the dip of her flat stomach’s belly button.
 
Exhausted as he was, Marcel pumped his hips forward in the stupid hope it wound end his torment faster.
 
“That’s it,” huffed Night Empress. “Now you’re getting into.”
 
Night Empress looked at Marcel’s face and knew his time was coming. It was a mixture of endless agony and delight. Delicious, she thought.
 
“And here we go,” whispered Night Empress before leaning in to dominate Marcel’s mouth, her tongue forcing past his teeth to mingle with his once again.
 
Night Empress felt multiple spasms rock through Marcel’s penis. It exploded within her forceful yet comforting depths. The resulting heat of insemination caused Night Empress to orgasm as well. Her quivering insides milked Marcel’s cock like a greedy fist as her back went rigid in mind blinding delight.
 
Night Empress seized the opportunity to mix Marcel’s pleasure with pain by biting open his upper lip. For the first time of the night, he screamed in agony – but Night Empress forgave him for that. Why kill what is truly alive with pleasure? Night Empress thought. She let Marcel’s rapidly softening member slip out of her. Semen leaked onto the bed and his crotch, staining both.
 
Like it was a cake frosting, Night Empress touched Marcel’s badly bleeding lips and brought them to her mouth. She imagined each red smear on her finger containing just a pinch of his lifeforce, delectable as could be. 
 
After dismounting Macel, Night Empress wiped herself clean with Marcel’s covers and easily dressed back into her gear like the bedroom belonged to her. Afterwards, she stole a few of his t-shirts and socks and loose dollars from a nearby dresser, placing them into pockets hidden in her robe.
 
“Why?” tearfully asked Marcel through his mangled lips. “Why the biting, Empress?”
 
Night Empress returned to Marcel to hold his face in her hands like he was a long lost lover. “Because I needed to make my mark on you. Bruises heal. Cuts do, too. But two bite scars on the lips? That’s a mark you carry for the rest of your life for everybody to see. It will remind you of the monster you are for the rest of your life.” Night Empress returned her stiletto to her boot. “There’s a method to my madness.”
 
“I came inside you, Empress” he said, looking visibly shaken. “Are you going to get pregnant?”
 
“Don’t be stupid. Humans can’t knock up Metas,” Night Empress said. “Then again, this was a magical night, so who truly knows?”
 
“For Chrissakes, could you at least take these handcuffs off me, Empress?” Marcel’s voice sounded tired and desperate. It was like sweet music to Night Empress’ ears.
 
“Consider those a parting gift.” Night Empress opened a window to let in a summer breeze. Below the window was a sheer drop onto a large backyard “Goodbye, Marcel.” And with a casual jump, she disappeared into her domain.