Chapter 1: Rain in the Night
Twelve-o-six. She slid her watch-bound wrist back inside her cagoule’s voluminous sleeve as the driving rain lashed her exposed skin,
seeming to cut through it like tiny ethereal knives of liquid cold and chill her hand to the bone. Even as thick as the material was it
couldn’t fully shield her from the relentless torrent that was slashing down in swathes from the inky black clouds scudding the night sky
above. A short breath of irritation escaped her mouth as she resigned herself to the fact that the delivery was going to be late, and she
stepped back into the recess of the fire door in the building’s side. Instantly she became a spectator to the foul weather as the rain
sloughed past the entrance, now unable to touch her since it was blowing in on the southerly wind. The black cagoule already rendered her
little more than a barely distinguishable shape in this storm, but in the shadow of the fire door recess she thought she must be nearly
invisible. She inclined her head slightly and glanced from under the heavy spacious hood at the night sky. It was as black as pitch and the
darkness seemed swollen to ubiquitous proportions; flooding every inch of the air on the campus like an invading demonic ether fuelled by the
seething dark desires of evil deities. Her poetic imagination excited her momentarily and she felt a flutter of pleasure from her private
intellectual revelry that caused her to shiver with delight rather than cold. She enjoyed the night more profoundly than anyone else she had
ever encountered, even a miserable night such as this. Her cagoule felt like armour against the elements, cocooning her from the true fury
and pain of the storm sloughing its watery load over the campus. Within it she felt safe and shrouded, but the true pleasure came from that
feeling combined with the concealing cloak of absolute darkness. Yes, she mused to herself with a slight smile, the night is the time where
the darkness hides us, protects us, and lays out its mysteries and secrets; waiting for us to seek them out and revel in their pleasure.
Her smile spread a little as she realised she was rather enjoying the delay in the delivery’s arrival; it was allowing her to savour this
delicious moment of her favourite sensations all together. She shifted under the cagoule and felt a vague damp sensation on her bare arms
as they brushed the inside of the material, unable to prevent all of the moisture from penetrating through. Penetrating. She shivered with
excitement again and hoped the delivery boys would be as succulent as the gorgeous ones that had turned up with the preliminary batch a
fortnight ago. She’d even dressed for the occasion. Well, she thought wryly as she pictured the skimpy lace she was wearing underneath, I’ve
dressed for the men if not the weather.
This was the other thing that excited her like little else, dressing like a complete slut in thin
sexy garments and sneaking about at night, masked by the rain. It was a rare treat; a strange, daring and forbidden practice in her own mind
that invoked great pleasure as far as she was concerned. She delighted in the wet cold licking at her mostly bare naked body as she pranced
about the campus, her mind reeling with her own idiosyncratic sexual gratification from darkness and inclement weather. Whilst she had no
time to prance right now as she waited on the delivery, she still relished the wet wind as it occasionally lashed up under the cagoule and
caressed her stocking-covered legs with its titillating tongues. Her breasts were bare and her nipples like metal studs against the
insulating material, the only items of clothing she actually had on were the black silk stockings and black strapped heels with stylish
chunky soles. She was for all practical purposes sheer naked, and it excited her intensely. It reoccurred to her again just how alive the
night made her feel. The darkness, the night, was a time one could be truly alone, and that solitude was sacrosanct. Although the daytime
was enjoyable in some respects everything always seemed mundane, harsh and bright to her, a direct contrast to the life and mystique that
the night seemed to breathe into things. She hadn’t met anyone who felt the same, and if they did she suspected like her they kept it to
themselves, preferring to enjoy their pleasures alone as she also did. She doubted that anyone else did think or feel the same way as her,
and whilst it gave her a pleasing sensation of uniqueness it was also a little depressing to contemplate the lack of introspection that
others seem to engage in. Others feared the dark and recoiled from it, forsaking the “Devil’s Whittling Time” as she privately nicknamed
the period between eleven and three o’clock in favour of sleep. She had never needed much sleep ever since she was a child and had always
desperately beseeched her parents to let her stay up late with them. They had of course refused, believing that for a young child to be
healthy plenty of sleep was a mandatory prerequisite and she supposed she couldn’t fault them for it; but the truth of the matter was it
had only piqued her curiosity tenfold. What was it, she had asked herself as a small child, that lay in this mysterious gap of time between
when people went to sleep and woke up? What secrets were there hovering outside of her knowledge, formless and yet irresistible? She smiled
once again at her innocent ponderings as her mind crossed over the vices that went on in the adult world – gambling, prostitution, drugs;
the kind of things she had discovered in her teen years when her parents acknowledged her minimal sleep sufficiency. All good things as far
as she was concerned, but she was reminded once again of how isolated she was in her views.
Most other people her age and those of the older generation seemed to have a sickened contempt of the pleasures of the night, and she angrily
imagined a throng of stuffy closed-minded idiots turning their noses up at entrancing neon casinos, red light districts and psychedelic raves.
She hated those kinds of people and their pretentious conservative attitudes. They were daylight limpets, clinging to the false pretence of
the pseudo-existence they wove around themselves with things like unimaginative compulsive materialism, irrational religious beliefs and
outmoded moral conservatism. “Fucking cunts” she spat venomously under her breath, it wouldn’t be so bad if they kept their own fucked up
ideas to themselves but they were always crusading to mould everyone else to their screwed-up way of thinking. They were all hypocrites and
liars that preached tolerance and yet tolerate absolutely nothing but their own baseless beliefs. She exhaled thin streams of angry air from
her nose that roiled lazily in the cold for a few seconds before dissipating. Her wrist slid out of the sleeve as she pulled her arm up to
check her watch again. Twelve nineteen. Where the hell were they? She slipped her arms out of the sleeves and hugged them to her body, the
exhilaration of being naked in the cold and wet draining slightly as her anger mounted at the growing lateness of the delivery. She winced as
she gingerly placed her numbed fingers under her armpits to try and warm them up again. A few more minutes slipped by unnoticed as she
reabsorbed herself in her own introspective before the sound of a heavy vehicle approaching knocked her from her reverie. Dipping her arms
back into the cagoule’s she peeked her hooded head out from the building’s recess and squinted in the face of the bright lights fronting the
face of the lorry. Her anger resurfaced and she strode out to meet the driver as he dismounted from the cab.
“Evening miss” he grunted loudly as he stepped down the metal grill steps on the side of the lorry.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I left specific instructions not to approach the campus with your lights on! Did it even cross
your mind to think that you might attract attention to your arrival?” she raged at him, though the storm muted most of the ire in her voice.
“Yeah but there weren’t anybody looking out for this delivery now was there?” he replied tersely, having to raise his voice to be heard as
thunder rumbled in the distance. She growled with barely suppressed anger, but turned her attention to the more immediate concern.
“Never mind, did you bring the full batch?”
“Yep” he drawled. “No need to worry miss. It may be late but it’s all here like you asked for.”
“Good, because if it’s not I’ll have your balls for breakfast” she stated bluntly, trying to maintain the impression of incensement in the
face of her overwhelming excitement. He chuckled and winked at her before replying.
“You can have my balls any time missy, you just say the word.”
He grinned lewdly, evidently trying to offend her. Her anger gone and replaced with glee at the prospect of things to come, she smiled wryly
to herself under her hood decided she’d have the fun she’d been contemplating anyway. From what she could see through the rain this guy was
decent enough looking and she was feeling exhilarated again at the prospect of a nice quick dirty screw with this driver. Yes, she thought
to herself, I’ll let him use me like a slut and then frig myself off after he’s blown his load. She felt the familiar thrill of all her
favourite sensations mixing together in her mind and body. Darkness, rain, nudity, sex, and feeling like a dirty slut. She moved in closer
and cupped his loins, at the same time reaching up and unfastening the cagoule so it fell apart to reveal her cool naked form. She watched
as his eyebrows arched in surprise and his eyes widen before receding and reshaping to a look of smug lust, his arousal evidently rocketing
as he drank in the favourable change of situation. She leaned in to whisper in his ear.
“I’d like your balls right now, if that’s ok with you?” she said in her best heated sexual purr.
His eyes told her exactly what he wanted, and with a brief pause to flutter her eyelashes as she looked directly into his lecherous gaze she
led him where she wanted to go, back into the shadow of the fire door. She let herself go as his warm hands began hurriedly pawing her body,
indulging in the thrill of her own dirtiness under the cover of darkness. She unzipped his flys and pulled out his warm, solid member, pulling
it towards the focus of his lust. He turned her around before he entered her and grabbed her hips to gain the anchor he needed to begin
thrusting. Her mind reeled in her own private hedonistic scenario she had created, oblivious to the grunting driver using her pussy for his
own pleasure. A short time slipped by before his climax mounted and he rammed his pelvis hard against her bare buttocks as he thrust inwards
to shoot his load inside her quivering pussy. He stayed inside momentarily before pulling out to stuff his juice-slicked cock back into his
pants and hurry back to the lorry to offload what he had really come for. She slid down to the floor after he finished with her and quickly
masturbated herself to orgasm before standing up and mentally shaking off the lingering satisfaction of her sated desires. Pleasure was over,
and now she thought, on to business. Several men who appeared to have been residing in the back of the lorry were now offloading the content
under the instruction of the driver, and he motioned her to come forward. Drawing the cagoule fully around herself again so as not to give
these others any ideas, she stalked towards him and leaned in to hear what he had to say.
“Where do you want this stuff?”
“Have them take it through to the third warehouse door round the back here, the code to open it is nine-six-eight-two-four, and be sure you
cover it and lock the door again once you’re done.”
He nodded and scribbled the code she had given him on a small bit of paper that he quickly pocketed to avoid destruction from the continuing
onslaught of rain billowing in all directions. She stood and watched impassively from under the deep hood of the cagoule as they quickly
shifted the bulky, heavy crates onto the pneumatically raised platform that extended from the rear of the lorry before lowering them to the
ground. The rain whipped at her but she felt nothing of it other than the impact as the cold and wet were repelled by her material armour.
She smiled to herself again as the group of men skilfully manoeuvred the crates across the slick paving to the designated door. One broke
off from moving to punch in the code to the door, presumably the driver she had just fucked. The huge steel front split vertically and
parted as the automated opening mechanism steadily began to collapse each half sideways; like an accordion folding up, she observed from
the distance. Lights flickered on inside and the moving crew resumed their pushing and heaving. The heavily burdened trolley inched its
way up the gentle incline to the open door and she realised just how heavy it must be considering the struggle that many men had to move
it. Just as her mind wavered with doubt the crew synchronously surged forwards and the crate’s weight tilted in favour of the flat surface
of the warehouse floor, and they disappeared from her view as they hurriedly wheeled it in. She was gladder than ever for the roiling storm
as it was a source of noise unto itself, completely drowning out what would have otherwise been a conspicuous racket unavoidably generated
by the delivery process. As if in assent with her thoughts the sky rumbled discontentedly at that moment. A while later the men poured out
of the doorway with a large pile of what she presumed must be dismantled crate wood on the trolley. Her eye caught one of them waving wildly,
evidently wishing her to affirm that everything was in order. She strode over to the group and the man changed his hand signal from a wave to
a sweep gesturing inwards. Ignoring him she turned her attention to the inside of the warehouse and grinned under the hood. Not a single thing
out of the ordinary. Excellent, she thought, absolutely excellent. Without needing to look she knew that they had left the product behind the
massive disused generators at the far end. She had condemned them a long time ago in preparation for this moment so no one would go poking
around there. She turned and nodded briefly to the men, who returned the gesture before vanishing from sight out of the door towards the lorry.
The door mechanism whirred to life again as the two halves slid together along the floor and ceiling circuit before closing with a jarring
clang. Outside she could vaguely hear the lorry’s engine fire up, but it soon faded from her hearing and she was left alone in the tomb-like
silence of the warehouse. She checked her watch. Twelve forty eight. “Not too bad I guess” she muttered to herself. She looked across at the
generators and decided she’d investigate her stash. Shrugging off the heavily water-beaded cagoule she strode confidently over to the far
end of the warehouse, enjoying the cool air on her naked body. Her heels clipped the floor and echoed slightly in the high reaches of the
ceiling as she marched purposefully towards the towering machinery. The three generators were lined perpendicular to the wall and provided
the perfect front to hide her product. Slipping through the small gap between the first two she emerged in the secret area behind them to
see eight large barrels stacked neatly on top of each other in grids of four. Her eyes gleamed and a shot of adrenaline pulsed through her
blood as she stood there naked, mentally lusting from her ultimate desire so close to being fulfilled. She took a calming breath as she
checked herself. Not quite yet, she thought, but I’m halfway there now I have the product here. She moved in to examine the barrels more
closely and saw that there was an array of tubes leading from each barrel into a central black box secured on to the side of one on the
ground. It had eight manual switches labelled numerically under each one, clearly to simplify the task of siphoning the liquid into manageable
quantities. She wanted to test it, right now; but she had nothing to drain the liquid into. She took a small calming breath and studied the
apparatus momentarily. It seemed straightforward enough – flip the switch and get the liquid. There was also rotary dial that appeared to
regulate the amount of liquid that came out. You never knew when you might need a lot instead of a little, she thought to herself inwardly
with sly amusement. Satisfied that everything was to her liking she slipped out from between the old generators and headed back over to the
dark pile that was her discarded cagoule, wincing at the cold dampness brushing against her bare flesh anew as she slid it on again. A lone
cloaked figure stole through the shadows of the campus briefly before disappearing into one of the buildings at the farthest end of the
grounds, her mind alive with unbelieveable fantasies that were about to become reality.