Riza didn't love him. In fact, she didn't even like him. The man disgusted and revolted her on many different levels. He wasn't even remotely attractive: far too soft, and not just in the body, though his body was in fact on the thin and flabby side.
"Do you want my shirt on or off," Barry the Chopper asked, in a curiously chastened voice.
"On, but unbuttoned. Everything else off." She watched him pull his shoes off first. There was nothing seductive in the way he leaned over and grabbed he heel of each boot and pulled with hard yanks until the foot came free. The socks went next, and then he quickly dropped his pants and shorts. He undid the buttons on his white shirt last, then stood in the center of the hotel room waiting for her to tell him what to do next.
Riza looked him over. Yes, he was ugly. His abdomen was a soft white expanse, His thin chest was defined by only the barest rise of his pects, and two rather pale looking nipples that dimpled ever so slightly in. His upper arms were thin. He hadn't been eating well since being on the loose, and his sallow skin, the lank untrimmed hair, and scraggly beard only emphasized how out-of control of his circumstances he was. At least he smelled fine, having used the hotel shower before she arrived.
Why am I doing this? she thought with no small measure of self-disgust.
Riza liked men who were strong and muscular, whose flat bellies dimpled with underlying muscles, whose hipbones jutted, unburdened by love handles. Barry was unworthy of her lowest attentions.
"Get on the bed, Barry."
Barry giggled and Riza gritted her teeth. She hated that high, almost feminine laugh he had. She knew it was nervousness—fear of her actually, that caused it. Since being absorbed back into his body, he'd lost his claim on immortality. He was subject to pain and death, two things that he had honestly not missed in armor form. She curled a lip at the irony of it. Barry had liked being armor, and had cursed and mourned returning to his flesh. Alphonse hated being armor, and yet even with all the resources of the military, plus several of the brightest minds on the planet dedicated to the task of returning it, there was no guarantee he'd ever be flesh again.
"Just shut up and get on the bed, I don't have a lot of time for this."
Barry climbed gracelessly onto the bed, and waited, back up against the headboard, knees up, legs spread slightly apart. His smile was tentative and weak.
Riza hated weakness. She liked men who were hard and disciplined like she was. Men who valued hard work, and believed that the only rewards worth having were those that were earned by ones own two hands. She liked men who had goals and forged on towards them, regardless of obstacles. Men who were like herself. Men who she could respect.
Barry was lazy, doing only what work absolutely had to, living poorly off of petty theft. Even his previous sexual experiences hadn't been earned through wooing and sacrifice, but rather wrested unwelcome from whatever woman was unlucky enough to encounter him in an isolated spot. Barry didn't deserve to lick her boots. He certainly didn't deserve to sleep with her. Yet here she was, by her own choice—in fact she had been the one to proposition Barry, not the other way around. It was demeaning and dirty and utterly unworthy of someone like herself.
And yet—"You haven't told me how you want to cut me up yet," Riza said.
"Oh, forgive me—." Barry giggled again. "I do, you know. Will you let me today? A little cut maybe. A finger? You won't miss a finger."
Riza's heart suddenly beat quicker. She felt the first heady rush of adrenaline, and began to feel oddly more there and in the moment than she had been just seconds before. "No, Barry," she said coldly. "You don't get to cut me."
Barry pouted like a little child. "You never let me cut you."
"And I never will."
"Why do you want me to tell you what I want to do with you, if you never let me do it?"
"Because I want you to. Talk." Riza for the first time started working on her own clothes. She undressed slowly, taking off the military jacket, and draping it over the lonely chair. She made sure that the lieutenant stripes were quite visible from the bed. It was important that Barry never forgot that she had the authority to take him down any time he stepped out of line.
Barry didn't miss it. His eyes remained glued to her coat while she loosened her laces and slid her feet out of her boots. She placed those next to her holstered gun, on the table next to coat. Barry only looked back again when she pulled her brown service shirt over her head. She folded it carefully on the seat of the chair, then looked back to note that Barry's eyes had shifted to her breasts.
Riza looked down at her own cleavage. She liked the way her chest looked. Whether by nature or because of her morning pushups, she wasn't sure, but she had remained pert and shapely, even as she'd watched other women her age and size begin to sag. Barry reached down and started stroking himself with a distracted hand. His mouth gaped a little.
"You aren't talking," she reminded him.
"One of these days," Barry said. "I'm going to sneak into your room. You will be asleep with happy soldier dreams, and I'll just quietly slip on in."
"How are you going to get in? I lock my door." Riza pulled her belt open then unbuttoned the top of her pants. Barry's eyes followed her every move.
Barry blinked and thought a second. "One of the times when you are on night duty, I will go to a window, one of the back ones where no one can see me, and I'll slip a hacksaw blade between the window and the sill. I'll saw the lock open. Then I'll leave. I'll pick a window you don't open often, so you won't notice that the lock is broken. I'll then practice climbing in and out a few times until I can do so very, very quietly. I'll memorize the route to your bed."
Riza was breathing faster now. She licked her lips. She felt a tingle between her legs that made her squeeze her thighs reflexively together. "Go on." She unzipped her pants and lifted one leg then the other out.
"Then when the time is right, I will wait until you are asleep."
"How you know I'm asleep?" Riza asked.
"Your light will be out in your bedroom. And then I will wait an hour. Then I will go to that back window and quietly slip in. I will walk to your bed room and look down on you."
Riza smiled. She was aware of the sudden warm tension in her groin. She grew more sensitive, aware of her nether lips growing heavy and moist. Aware of her clit swelling beneath the hood. She clenched her ass and felt a slight itch of anticipation there as well. "What next," she said, hearing the slightly breathless quality in her voice.
Barry smiled, all teeth and wide, surprised eyes. "Why then I move quickly. I'll grab your arm and flip you onto your stomach and grab your hands before you have a chance to wake up. I'll put the cuffs on you then."
"I will throw you off and you know it," snorted Riza.
"Yes," Barry's smile faded slightly. "That's why I'll use an anesthetic. Yes. Just a little whiff to make you sleepier. Then I'll tie you up while you are unconscious."
"Tie me or cuff me?"
"Tie you," said Barry, "With rope." He groaned a little. His cock was quite hard at this point. "Spread eagle."
"Don't come, Barry," Riza warned. Barry jerked his hand away. "Continue," said Riza.
"Then I'll wait for you to be awake. It's no fun if you don't scream."
"If I scream my neighbors will call the police."
Barry's brows lifted up. "I will gag you while you are asleep, so your screams will be muffled, but I can still hear them."
Riza paused in undressing to tentatively slide a finger between her thighs. She pressed in slow strokes, teasing her clit through the fabric. Barry brought his hand back to his crotch, then whimpered a bit and pulled away again. He was sweating, and she could tell he wasn't far from coming himself, just from the fantasy he was spinning. She smiled a bit coldly as his self-restraint. For a moment he seemed slightly redeemable.
"Then when you wake up," he said in a slightly horse voice, "I'll let you look at me for a while, so you can know exactly who has you. I will watch your face grow pale as death and your eyes widen as you realize you are about to die. Then I'll explain to you exactly what I will be doing to you—just like I am now." He giggled again, and once more Riza fought the urge to smack him. But that wouldn't do.
"Go on," she said instead. "Tell me what you'll do."
"Oh, I will want to cut you fast with big hard strokes. Split your breastbone down the middle and spread your ribs apart until I can plunge my hands into your lungs and squeeze them until they shred between my fingers."
Riza felt her legs grow momentarily weak as a sudden strong rush of pleasure made her empty cunt spasm. She pushed her finger more firmly in the crack, rubbing her clit and nether lips through her panties. She reached up with her other hand and squeezed her breast through the lace of her bra, pinching her nipple hard enough to hurt. The pain mixed with the strong, itch-pressure-clenching of her groin and she orgasmed for the first time.
"That's too quick though, you won't actually do that," said Riza after catching her breath. She slid her other hand up to her other breast and pinched it as well, as the faint aftershocks of her first cum died down.
"No—that would be too quick," Barry agreed, staring at her hands and watching her play with her nipples through her bra. He wanted her to take off the bra, but he knew better than to actually ask.
Riza pulled down her panties. The cotton crotch stuck a little to her labia, pulling free with a delicate tug of her sensitive flesh. She felt the wetness of the panel on her leg as she pulled it down and off. She squeezed her inner muscles in anticipation.
"Then what will you do?" prodded Riza, impatient. She climbed onto the bed, still not taking off the bra, teasing him with the notion that this time she just might NOT take it off. She straddled his waist, her butt rubbing against the tops of his thighs, his quivering erection mere inches from her crotch. He lifted his hips off the bed in anticipation, but she merely leaned down sliding herself out of the way, so that his cock instead pushed almost uselessly against the swell of her buttock.
"Don't hurry this, " Riza warned. "I've only come once so far."
Barry moaned a little at that admission, but then he went back to his narrative. "I will take a knife, a small knife and start at your feet. I will then make one long slice up from your big toe to your knee and peel the skin back, until all I can see is your bare muscles."
"I will bleed to death rather quickly."
"Not if I tourniquet the leg at the thigh."
Riza leaned back and let her labia brush against the head of his cock. Barry made a slight motion to push upward but then stopped himself. He whimpered. He wasn't going in until she let him, and he knew it. He'd just have to wait.
She prodded him to keep speaking, which he did with periodic moans and shudders. He spoke at length about how she would look as he cut her, the graphic, almost clinical descriptions of her body made it obvious that this was no idle fantasy, this was something he had done before, and could conceivably do again. Barry's words weren't just fantasy, but actual threat.
Abruptly she needed him inside her. She lowered herself down, feeling the stretch as the head penetrated, then the relief of being filled as his length slid completely in. She clenched around him a moment, adjusting to the feel.
Barry stopped talking. She saw the look of absolute worship on his face and managed a wry smile. He was disgusting and dirty and evil and now he was infecting her with that. The sex they were having wasn't even safe. If she misjudged, which she easily could do, she might even end up pregnant with this worthless scum's child. With that thought, she rocked her hips, rubbing her clit against the hairy hardness of his pubic bone, and came for the second time.
Barry couldn't take her hesitation too long. He reached up for the breasts that had occupied his attention since the start. Still coming down from her second orgasm, she allowed him to reach back and unhook her bra, pulling it off her shoulders. He flung it off in a random direction that annoyed Riza, who liked to keep her clothes, like everything else, neat.
He then pulled her forward and started mouthing her breasts hungrily. His tongue and lips moving from one to the other and back almost as if he were indecisive as to which he wanted. He groaned and bucked his hips against her.
Riza still felt a bit charitable, but that was gradually fading. She moved his hands down to her hips and sat up, pulling her breasts away from his mouth. He let out a slight moan of disappointment, but that quickly changed to eagerness as she began riding him. He helped by lifting and supporting her.
"Keep talking," she said. "After I die, what will you do with my body."
Barry resumed his narrative eagerly. He spoke of gross desecrations, features hacked to the point of being unrecognizable, flesh cut, cooked, eaten, and then the eventual disposal of her body, naked and debauched on her own front lawn, so that her neighbors would have something exciting to wake up to.
Riza's lips tweaked up at the thought of her neighbors. On one side was an elderly woman whose main excitement was he weekly quilting bee. On the other was a young couple with a small child. She imagined the horror that would greet them when they walked out the door to start their day. What indelible marks would be left on their psyche's having seen such a strong, resourceful woman reduced so low. She wondered if they would hate her for having failed to protect herself against such a depraved murderer. Would they be even more shocked to know that she had known of her killer for some time, and had deliberately let him roam freely?
And what of all the men in her office, who thought so highly of her. What would they think when they found out that she was really weak after all. That under her fašade and bluster, she just didn't rate. Would they merely shake their heads in wonder, or would they actually come to hate her for not living up to their expectations.
It was on that particular note of self-hate that Riza came a third time. This time it was a long hard come that made her entire body shake. A small cry escaped her throat. She then jerked herself off of his body and flung herself away from him. She rolled over to see Barry stroking himself, hard and fast, until he curled forward a bit and came all over his belly and chest.
Riza felt a momentary relief that she had managed to get off yet again before he had. One of these days she was going to ride him too long, and the consequences would be horrible. Even as it was, there was still a small chance he'd impregnated her. She wouldn't know until her next period. Until then she would get occasional moments of horror, mixed with irresistible pleasure.
She waited for the trembling to die down then abruptly got up and went to bathroom to take a shower. Barry knew better than to try to talk to her. He washed himself quietly up in the sink.
When she returned, feeling both clean and utterly dirty, Barry was still in the room. That was a bit of a surprise. Usually he fled the first moment he could, leaving her to pay for the room. This time he was still there looking at, but not touching her gun, which lay holstered on the table beside her clothes.
Riza felt a cold thrill squeeze her middle. Barry could easily grab her gun and—
"If you don't want your teeth kicked out, you'll back away now, Barry."
And like a miracle, Barry backed away. She quickly grabbed her gun, still breathing hard from her gaff. Barry was a psychopath. He could have killed her.
"Why didn't you shoot me when I was in the shower, " she asked finally.
Barry shrugged. "I don't know. I guess, I didn't want to." He cocked his head. "Why do you sleep with me? I think after all this time you owe me that."
Riza covered her face. "I don't know. You turn me on. I wish to God you didn't."
Barry nodded. He headed to the door. "Same time next month?" he asked.
"Yes. But Barry," Riza said, regaining her composure. "If you hack someone up, I will know about it. No warnings, I'll hunt you dead."
He nodded. "Don't worry, my love. The next person I kill will be you. I promise." He then turned and left, going back to his life of itinerant desperation.
Riza dressed quickly. When she got home she would have to make sure her windows all had functioning locks, and her booby traps were in working order.