Bird of Prey




He was sweating, the knife in his hand catching the blinking red neon "Motel"
sign through the window. She was sitting, looking at him, and he could see her
blood-red eyes boring into him. He knew with absolute certainty that one of them
was going to die.

*				*					*

The unknown made Seargant Jakes nervous, and he had no idea who he was looking
for. Four suicides in four days, and it was his job to find out why they had all
spent their last hours in this bar, or why, having spent hours in this bar, they
had killed themselves.  It was a pretty dull bar, as sleaze factories went. The
strippers were ugly and untalented, and the music was disco. He looked at his
watch. 1:30 A.M., only twenty-five minutes to go, and he and the three other
plainclothsmen could get the hell out of this dump. "Can I get you anything?" A
voice asked. One hell of a voice, he thought, and turned to see the one body that
could have fit that voice. "Oh, baby.  Where have you been all my life," he said.
He was the type of person who would say  that. She was shorter than him, maybe
5'4" tall, and blond. The makeup was subtle and the dress was not too tight. She
looked out of place in a bar full of heavily painted women with sprayed-on
clothes.  That body was all sin, he thought. She ignored his line.  "Do you want
to drink, sir?" she said in a superior sort of tone. "I'll drink you, baby," he
said. and moved towards her. Something strange about this girl, he thought.  His
erection caused the thought. The first erection that night, in a bar full of
strippers and prostitutes. "Sorry, Sergeant, I don't play with pigs," she
replied, and walked away. He was too busy watching her walk away to take offense
at her comment, and the question of how she knew he was a cop did not even enter
his mind. He got up and followed her to the bar where she began talking to the
bartender. "Hey, waitress," he said, and when she didn't answer, he put his hand
on her shoulder. "Don't touch me," she said, and drove her thumbnail into his
wrist.  He flinched and pulled his hand back.  It hurt, a lot. He sat back down
and watched the show, looking for suicidal men.  He didn't see any, and at 1:55
his Captain dismissed him, and the other policemen left. He started home, but
twice forgot the way to get there, and ended up taking the wrong exit off the
highway. He still had an erection. He had never been this disturbed in his life. 
He didn't know why, but he turned around on the vain hope she might stay late to
clean up. When he arrived back in front of the bar the interior lights were
dimmer, but they were on.  He looked in several of the windows, but could not see
through the dirt. He tried the front door, and to his surprise it opened. When he
walked in, it was like another world. It was the same bar, but where there were
drunks, now there were businessmen, doctors and lawyers, in three-piece suits
that would cost Jakes three weeks pay. Where there were cigarette buts and dirty
napkins on the floor, now was polished tile. He sat down. She was on stage,
singing something soft and dancing slowly from side to side.  She caught his eye.
He winced expecting a frown and maybe a rude gesture, but he couldn't look away.
She smiled and involuntarily he leaned forward in surprise.  It never occurred to
him to smile back. At that time, it started to make sense.  He knew something was
wrong, and it related to four suicides. He just didn't care.  When the number
ended, she bowed to the standing ovation, and he got a glimpse of nipple, under
all that tastefully concealing clothing. The impact of that forbidden glimpse
pushed him back into his chair and drove his suspicions away. The music began
again and the tempo picked up a bit.  She was not singing this time, just
dancing.  She whirled around the stage, writhing in the lights, all the time
staring at Jakes. She bent foreward until she was on her knees, shaking her ample
chest to the rhythm. She locked eyes with him and it seemed that the music
stopped and everyone vanished. She crossed her wrists over her head, closed her
eyes and licked her lips. He ejaculated. When the music beat its self back into
his consciousness and he was surrounded by people. He sprinted to the bathroom to
clean himself up.  When he came back out, she was at the bar, drinking water.  He
couldn't look at her because he was sure she knew what had happened. He stayed at
his end of the bar and ordered a drink. He watched her fend off passes for five
or ten minutes, then she started towards him.  He began to sweat, hoping that the
stain dried, wondering what sort of humiliating comment she would make. He
cringed back into the wall, farther away.  The closer she came, the more
frightened he was, knowing humiliation to be seconds away. She passed him without
even a glance and entered the ladies room. He breathed a sigh of relief, and went
back up to the bar, ordering a double scotch. "Alcohol impairs performance,
although with you, it probably wouldn't make a difference." She said from behind
him. He almost fell off his seat.  He tried, but could not make himself turn to
face her. She reached around him and patted his thigh.  "I saw that you liked my
performance." He blushed scarlet, but nodded, vigorously.  He couldn't speak. She
sidled up close to him and whispered, "If you give me what I want, I'll give you
what you want."  She smiled at him, licking her lips, "but you've got to
promise." "Wh- Wh- What do you want?" "No, no, Sergeant, that's not the way it
works.  We promise each other blind.  I promise I'll do whatever you want," she
rubbed her breasts against his back, and he could feel her erect nipples pressing
into him, "and then you promise you will do anything I want." "Yes." "Do you
promise?" "Yes." "Say it." "I promise I'll do whatever you want." "Repeat after
me.  I promise Melissa that I'll do whatever she asks me to do, no matter what it
is." He repeated it exactly. "I have to be on stage.  You will wait, won't you?"
she asked, rhetorically, and went on stage. As she left, a man in a white suit
came up to him, all smiles.  "Congratulations, sir.  I wish you the best of
luck," he said, patting Jakes on the back.  Jakes didn't know what to say so he
said nothing. For the first time he noticed that he was the only person in the
bar who was not wearing white. He did not notice that Melissa was wearing red, or
that she was the only women in the bar. There was a band behind her, where there
had not been one before, and they struck up some blues tune.  He did not
recognize the music, and he didn't care.  He just watched her dance and sing.
When the set was over, she came to him directly. "Take me somewhere," she
breathed, leaning heavily on him. They left the bar.  The men in the bar all
applauded as the closed the door behind them. Jakes did not notice that none of
them were smiling. Once in his car, he asked where she wanted to go, and she did
not answer, instead rubbing his knee.  He just drove and pulled in at the first
vacancy sign he came to. The hotel was a dump, but he did not even see it.  he
paid thirty dollars for the room without hesitation. They ran up the stairs, and
into the room, slamming and locking the door. She sat gently on the edge of the
bed.  "I'm yours if you remember," she said, and waited. He took out his
handcuffs, and she crossed her wrists over her head.  He snapped the handcuffs
shut, and laughed an evil laugh, feeling in control for the first time in hours.
He was about to order her to undress and watch and laugh at her difficulty in
disrobing in handcuffs.  He was about to tell her to do degrading things to
herself. She found the tab on his zipper and opened his fly with her teeth. It
wasn't exactly what he wanted, but he lost the voice to object, and he soon gave
up on the idea of pushing her away. He relaxed and enjoyed it.  He enjoyed it a
lot Gradually, he lost awareness of his surroundings, of his partner and was
simply aware of his own pleasure. He hand went to the back of her head to force
her, brutally, to the rhythm he liked and that made it better for him.. He thrust
and pulled aggressively, and in the corner of his mind, he realized he must be
hurting her. He liked that idea a lot, and accelerated. She played him like a
musical instrument, stimulating the most sensitive parts when most effective. As
he climaxed, she scraped her teeth across him hard. The pain just heightened his
peak. It was the most powerful orgasm he ever felt, and he passed out.

He woke, crumpled on the floor next to the bed. She was sitting in a chair across
from the bed. "My turn."  she said, showing teeth. "Sorry, Baby."  he started,
getting up and putting himself carefully back into his pants.  "I'm spent."  He
walked to the door.  "Maybe we'll do this again, sometime." She laughed, the last
thing he expected. "And your promise?" He actually laughed at that.  "Made to be
broken." "Like your wedding vows." "Yeah, just like that." he replied, and
reached for the handle of the door. She stood up, and her shoulder strap fell
down one shoulder. "Too bad."  She purred, and ran her fingers through her hair,
making her breasts thrust foreword. Her nipples were erect, and before he could
turn the handle of the door, so was he. "Sit down on the bed, Sargent." He was no
longer in control, and he knew it.  He tried to turn the handle of the door, and
found that he was sitting down on the bed instead. She turned on the cheap clock 
radio, pre-tuned to some musac  station, and started unbuttoning his shirt.  As
buttons opened, she kissed his chest, nipples, stomach, until it was off. His
eyes closed. She gently touched his eyelids, and ordered "open them." He
complied, and she stood in front of him, swaying slightly to the barely audible
music, caressing herself gently, arms and shoulders. "You see, sex does not exite
me, Sargent."  She started, "I'm turned on by control.  watch."  She pulled the
strap of her dress farther down, revealing pink, stopping just short of letting
the nipple free.  He leaned foreword, with a slight moan. When she lifted the
strap back to her shoulder, his hands went out to her and he moaned " no!" She
swayed back out of reach.  Her face flushed.  Her chest pushed foreword, and her
hips, and her legs opened slightly. "You see, that's control.  It turns me on."
"Please..." he moaned, but did not finish. "Will you keep your promise, Mr. Cop?"
He nodded. She reached up slowly, and brought the strap down, revealing her
breast completely.  He reached for her, but again she swayed backwards. He tried
to move toward her, but he seemed to have no strength.  "I want you." he
whispered. "How much?"  She asked, and walked to where she had dropped her purse,
took something out. He searched for words to answer her, found none. "Control,
Sargent, control,"  she said, and returned to him, just out of reach.  "How much
do you want me?"  She showed him the knife she held in her hand. she laid it on
his lap. He looked at the knife, and thought of the suicides he had started the
night investigating. He started to stand up. She stood in front of him, pinching
her nipple between thumb and forefinger, eyes closed, moaning. His erection
called to him.  So did the knife.  He could put that knife through her now, and
end his problem. Her eyes still closed, she swayed foreword, moving herself so
the knife point was almost touching her nipple.  she moaned in pleasure.  "Yes,
you could kill me, but you won't," she said.  "It's your choice, Sarge.  Kill me,
and you never have me. Surrender to me, and I will give you..."  She pulled the
other strap down.  Her eyes were still closed, and her legs were pressing
together, then opening gently. He froze there, half standing, watching her body
sway until her nipple gently caressed the point of the knife. He collapsed back
onto the bed, something inside his brain screaming at him to kill her and go.  He
couldn't. She felt his surrender as he fell back, and she groaned loudly. Her
knees buckled. She caught herself before hitting the floor. After a moment, she
straightened. "More" he said.  It was all he had the strength for. "Show me how
much you want me." she breathed, and he remembered the knife.  Seemingly on its
own, the knife pushed itself into his skin, sliding down toward his navel,
leaving a red snake of blood behind. The knife was so sharp as to cause no pain,
but the sight of the blood shocked him. "My god!" he almost screamed, and started
up.  he saw her, head thrown back, mouth wide open, screaming silently. He fell
back to the bed.  She felt him fall, felt him give in, and she orgasmed. Sweat
broke out on her face and chest, dripped down between her breasts.  She sat in
the chair, her eyes boring into him.

He was sweating, the knife in his hand catching the blinking red neon "Motel"
sign through the window. She was sitting, looking at him, and all he could see
was her blood-red eyes boring into him. He knew with absolute certainty that one
of them was going to die. "Now we are down to it," she said, her voice coming in
ragged gasps  "This is it.  are you mine, Officer Jakes, or are you your own?" 
She slowly pushed her dress down over her hips, letting it fall to the floor. 
She began to caress herself through her black panties.  "I've been in control of
you all night.  I made you come in your pants, I made you come up here. I gave
you the best orgasm you've ever had.  You have been more alive and excited than
ever before in your live, and you loved it.  You are going to give me your life,
the ultimate control, just because you want me.  And you are never going to have
me. You know it, and you're going to do it anyway." he didn't hear a word she
said, but watched her.  he placed the knife against his solar plexus, and as her
fingers crept beneath her panties, He experienced his third and best orgasm of
the night, and he shoved the knife into his chest.  It slid in smoothly, and the
pain of it just made it better.

She collapsed on the floor, as he was dying.  His diaphragm had been cut, he
could not scream, and the blood came out in shallow spurts.  She dressed,
watching him carefully, and when she judged him close to death, she leaned over
and kissed him, her tongue exploring his silently screaming mouth. "I love you," 
she said, and left the room.

When they found the body, it was dressed in white, immaculately.