Photographs
Admin warning: This story contains snuff and rape. It is allowed into
this archive because in the end, it is a tale of love. However, please
read at your own risk.
There were rules to the game and Riza always played by them. Her first
tenet was that dating had to be a precursor to sex. She needed to get to
know her date; she needed to connect emotionally, figure out what made
them tick. She needed to get them pliable. Then, of course, there had to
be a decent seduction. Pushing the pistol in their face as soon as they
got into the apartment would never do. She had to shock them carefully.
They would shimmy out of their clothes in the hallway, exchanging a few
mild kisses, and giggle their way to the bedroom. Then, and only then,
Riza would push her date onto the bed and shove a gun in their mouth,
saying in a thick, throaty voice, "You better do what I tell you." The
shock creeping over their face as their eyes opened wide was beautiful.
Those little sounds of panic and the heaving of their chest made her
heart flutter pleasantly. Once she was sure they understood the gravity
of the situation, she'd cock the trigger for emphasis and add, "Or I'll
shoot." The threat was apparent from the moment the mouth of her gun hit
the back of their throat, but hearing it spoken aloud always did wonders
for their complexion. By that point, they'd be thinking about how fast a
bullet could bite through their mortal flesh while they tried to tell
themselves the gun surely couldn't be loaded. When their resolve seemed
to creep back, their ruddy complexion evening out, she would fumble
around with her free hand and "accidentally" spill a few bullets in the
process.
She always made sure they got out of their clothes first. Blood on her
casuals would likely spark interest after a few months in the
laundromat. She'd pondered suffocation for quite a while, wondering if a
blue-tinged lover would give her just as much satisfaction. But the
warm, sticky blood made her breath irregular and knees weak in a way no
gasping lover could. Besides, getting out of their clothes in the
hallway gave her plenty of time to gain the upper-hand by the bedroom.
Why they never noticed her palm the gun right in front of them was
beyond her. Perhaps it was because they, unlike her, were already slaked
with lust, oblivious to most anything.
She normally dated younger women, fourteen to seventeen, though
occasionally she'd find a passive man. She had to make sure of two
things; they had to let her go to their place after the date and they
needed to keep their relationship an utter secret. There were two ways
she could promise that: she could date a young, closeted girl who was
barely comfortable with her sexuality or she could choose someone in the
military. The mere thought of fraternization charges would normally keep
their trap shut. And besides, it didn’t normally last long enough to
make the secret hard to keep. Riza was just careful and wanted to make
sure she couldn’t be attached to the corpses of young girls and
second-guessing men.
She laughed that day, telling Edward Elric how much she hated her gun
but it was a necessary evil to protect her ideals. But sometimes, at
work, she’d run her callused finger over the trigger and imagine a
warm, breathing, squirming body below her and she’d get so wet. A
necessary evil indeed. The office rumors and gossip amused her
immensely. Apparently she was in love with Roy, Havoc, and Edward
(though that disgusted them slightly with the huge age gap). No, she’d
never touch Roy. He was too much of an egotistical bastard, and though
she’d like to feel him squirming, she doubted it would ever happen.
Edward, though his age didn’t bother her in the slightest (she had
gotten some of her best orgasms from fourteen-year-old girls), was
unwilling to let a woman take charge of him. And besides, he was
probably gay. Havoc? Well, let’s say that he didn’t interest her
that much. She normally avoided dating smokers. Anyway, all these men
were blocked off by another unspoken rule—you don’t kill people who
will get a real investigation. Kill cadets, not officers, if you want to
keep the murders quiet.
Ah rules! Rules were what got her the product—a squirming
fifteen-year-old girl, seduced into her own bed after being fed tripe
about her family misunderstanding her. This was art within itself. Riza
didn’t always like to torture them but sometimes, to get the point
across, a couple extra shots were necessary. This girl’s will was
stronger than Riza had expected so a broken collarbone was necessary.
Blood oozed readily from the nasty wound and Riza dabbled her free hand
around the jagged hole, feeling the blood pump out readily over her
fingers, coating them in the viscous liquid. The girl was so close Riza
could tell. Her breathing was ragged and her eyes were dimmed, not in
lust this time, but from blood loss. She ravaged the girls’ body with
the phallic weapon, pressing the gun into the soft flesh of her stomach,
listening for the fading whimpers. The climax was a gun shot to the head
while she played with herself.
This girl was lucky to bring her to such orgasm, Riza told herself
repeatedly. And to allow herself to be such a work of art. She’d take
a shower in the girl's bathroom, get her casuals from the hall, and
pretend next morning, like every other morning, that she was still not
dating, focused so much more on work than sex and relationships. The
rest of the office paid too much attention to their libidos. They should
get their paperwork done.
She stepped back from the girl, looking at her bloody lover through the
lens of her camera. "Say cheese," she said tonelessly. Not waiting for a
response, she ignited the flash and took the last picture anyone would
take of Jessie Grisham while the young girl's body was still warm.
Her most important and final rule was that she had no confidants. Well,
except the camera, who, hopefully, would never betray her.
It was one of those boring days in the office. Riza leaned back in her
chair sure that her entire day would be consumed with paperwork and
forcing Colonel Mustang to do his paperwork. Next week would be much
more interesting; the Elric brothers were coming back from their latest
mission. It would only be interesting because Mustang knew from the
third day the mission would be a bust. Such scandalous information could
not fail to reach the Fullmetal Alchemist's ear.
She pulled out her gun, listening to Hughes explain in great detail the
murder of a young girl. "She was only sixteen!" Hughes said, his eyes
wide and dramatic, each word punctuated by a stabbing motion of his
hands. "There were knife cuts down her sides and blood everywhere!" He
finally took out a graphic picture as if to punctuate the statement with
bloody evidence.
"Oh Hughes and your photographs..." Riza thought, laughing lightly,
slowly piecing her gun apart to clean it carefully. After all, it had
only been two days ago that she discharged four bullets from the gun.
And she needed it in pristine condition.
If only to protect the Colonel.
Havoc looked down at the picture and his face suddenly tinged green.
"What's really concerning," Hughes continued, ignoring the paleness of
the Second Lieutenant's face, "is the bullet wound in the head." Hughes
traced the photograph's edge, afraid to get fingerprints on it, but
somehow wishing he could touch the girl's body, create contact with the
photographs he lived through.
Havoc, feigning some interest in the story, not wanting to upset Hughes,
looked at the body of the girl. "But there are also cleaner shots to her
shoulder. As if they wanted her in pain. This wasn't just a murder..."
Hughes stopped talking and adjusted his glasses as he spoke, looking at
Havoc meaningfully.
"It was a rape. A highly sadistic rape," Havoc said, knowing what Hughes
was about to tell him.
After all, this was the seventh of such murders in the past year and
Hughes couldn't help but to show off photographs to any innocent
bystander.
Riza rolled her eyes, annoyed that the investigations committee would
categorize this under "rape." Murder, she could understand in the eyes
of the unenlightened. But in her mind the correct category would always
be "art."
The specs on the gun had already come in. The gun was a military pistol,
the young messenger told Hughes, slightly uncomfortable around an
officer of rank. They were already looking for leaks of military weapons
to the public, the young cadet recited carefully, trying not to stutter.
Somehow, even though a First Lieutenant was cleaning that exact model
right in front of them, they could never blame Riza Hawkeye for the
murder and rape of five young girls and two military cadets. She was too
busy with work to get involved in something like that. She barely had
time to make it to the shooting range.
Havoc simply nodded to the young man, thanking him for his work. "I
ought to get back to my desk," he said finally, picking up his
photographs. "With this case, we could have new evidence at any moment."
She went through her closet, knowing that something silky and seductive
was in order, but, still, she had to be able to carry a weapon on each.
If the weapon had to be in sight, she could always claim her status as
an officer. But it was somehow offsetting to wear a crimson dress, slit
up to her mid-thigh with such a brutal weapon in sight.
Third dates were always the hardest to dress for. The date where she
wanted to seduce them in their living room. Perhaps the hallway would
do. Kissing on the first date. Touches on the second date. Blow their
brains out on the third date.
"No, that's not the way to look at it," Riza reminded herself, letting
her hair down in front of the mirror, marveling at her honed, naked
body. "I'm creating art, remember?" Her eyes wandered over to her sacred
camera in the corner.
It was so much easier to dress for the other dates. Although she brought
her gun along every date, just in case, she could wear more concealing
clothes that hid a weapon better. Sometimes she wondered if she could
wear less revealing clothes on the third date. But by that point she was
so pent up and wanted to release the trigger so badly she didn't want to
lay anything to chance.
The outfit started piecing together. First, the matching black demi-bra
and thong made their way to the bed. Next, a blood-red, v-neck,
sleeveless top and a black miniskirt. It might be a little chilly so she
strapped her gun into a black jacket she could toss over her shoulders.
The camera fit in the pocket. Add a dash of stilettos and she was free
to roam.
Hughes was showing photographs to anyone who would look. "The
Snuff-man..." Riza thought dryly. "Couldn't they have thought of a
better name?"
"The problem we're having," Hughes told a very interested Alphonse
Elric, "is that there's no semen—" He paused and stared when a very
angry Edward Elric pulled his metallic brother away with a quick shove
and a nasty glare. Hughes' shoulders dropped and he watched the two
alchemists make their way out of the room. "You're lucky you didn't
sustain any injury," an amused Colonel said, watching the blonde
alchemist complain animatedly to the suit of armor about Hughes' lack of
discretion.
Hughes finally turned his attention to Riza, pushing a candid photograph
of Ginny onto her desk. Ginny liked toffees, small dogs, and wanted to
become a photographer. How ironic that Hughes would end up pimping
around photographs of her dead, molested body. But of course Hughes
didn't know any of that... And besides, Hughes' photograph was blurrier
than hers, slightly out of focus. Her picture of Ginny had developed
beautifully. Her pale face accentuated her light freckles perfectly. And
the blood pooled around her black hair... This photograph didn't do her
work justice. If only they could hire good photographers in the
Investigations Department.
"We're having a problem..." Hughes began, but Riza cut him off, placing
the tip of her fountain pen on his nose, leaving a dripping ink stain.
"I know," she said simply. "The Snuff-man isn't leaving behind any
semen. Does that mean he leaves the crime scene to jack off? Have you
even checked if these girls are still virgins or not?" Riza shrugged,
her lips pressed tight together as she grinned wickedly at him. Ginny
was a virgin. But Katherine and Lizbeth weren't. Jessie had lost her
hymen while fighting with two boys at eleven. Ah, what Hughes didn't
know, couldn't tell from his precious photographs. At least her
photographs spoke to her.
Did he know if Elysia was still alive if he pulled her picture out of
his wallet? Did he know if Gracia was still faithful? What did his
photographs mark? He had too many, that was the problem. Riza was
careful to pick the most serene and serious moments before she brought
out her camera.
Gracia one month pregnant, two months, three months... all the way to
the eighth month... Sometimes you could tell the difference, sometimes
you couldn't. "A before and after picture would have sufficed," Riza
thought, trying to distract herself from Hughes. "Why did he need to
take twenty-six pictures at Elysia's birthday party? If he chose the
correct moments, the times of perfection, he could have one faultless
memory of his daughter.
Hughes frowned lightly and pulled away, his hands out of sight below her
desk. She knew he was playing with his wicked knives at that point.
Though she couldn't see his fingers and the sharp blades the telltale
twitching of his shoulders gave it all away.
Riza forced herself back into the situation, looking at Hughes coyly,
her eyes moving from his shoulders back to his face. "Maybe," she said
carefully, "you should be looking into murder, not rape. File the
paperwork right, Maes...And I'll make sure it gets to the right people."
She looked away from the photographs disdainfully, pushing them back
towards him. "And hire a better photographer. I'll even make sure the
expense report is taken care of."
She was sure Hughes thought this was a murder case. However, an easily
misfiled piece of paperwork could have lead Hughes' superiors into
thinking that this was a murdering rapist. What an ingenious way of
getting money for an investigation before this "Snuff-man" had touched
an officer. She picked her pen back up, ignoring Hughes for the moment.
Her rules might need slight amendments now that Hughes had found a way
to make this investigation truly military business.
The mail came in a few moments later, suddenly reminding Hughes that he
needed to get back to his office. "Thanks Lieutenant!" he said before
scooping up his precious, precious photographs and making his way back
to the Investigations Department.
Normally she didn't drink coffee, but because she had stayed so late in
the office last night, catching up with the paperwork she had set aside
to go meet with Ginny, Riza found herself yawning around four o'clock,
far too early to go home and take a nap. She went to the break room, a
place she despised as being full of rumors and worse, people skiving off
work. She wanted to just quickly grab a cup of coffee and make her way
back to her desk.
Her pristine mug was in the cabinet; no one ever dared to touch it. She
had the entire office almost as well-trained as Havoc and Mustang. Her
reputation preceded her. Sometimes she wondered if the new officers were
warned about her when they were brought to the office.
Well, perhaps not, she thought grimly as her ass was groped as she
grabbed for the coffee pot. She finished pouring her coffee and turned
around, drawing her gun quickly to face whoever groped her.
Maria Ross was grinning widely at her and leaned in to whisper against
her ear. "I'm so sorry if this is breaking rank, Lieutenant, but it
looks like you've been going to more than the shooting range lately."
"Your ass is really tight," Maria added after a long pause, her moist
breath tickling against the shell of Riza's ear. "I think dinner is in
order. Tonight, eight o'clock, Devida's. Followed by some drinks..."
Riza stared as Maria sauntered away with a wink. "Eight o'clock,
Lieutenant."
Riza sat at her desk confused but glad she had just ended her
relationship with Ginny. Rather satisfactorily, actually.
She opened her calendar and penciled in, "Eight o'clock. Dinner at
Devida's. Maria Ross."
When Riza got to Devida's, Maria was already at her table. The bottle of
red wine on the table told Riza they were going to begin the alcohol
early on this date. She'd have to keep her wine if she was going to take
care of the pistol strapped to her inner thigh.
As she approached, Maria told her how nice she looked, her eyes skirting
over the lacy peach camisole and the black miniskirt. Maria stood up,
gave her a quick kiss and they sat back down.
Riza moved her napkin into her lap and crossed her ankles politely,
ignoring the cold bite of steel into her tender thighs. Thank god she
had put her camera into her purse.
She wondered if it had been a mistake to wear clothes she normally wore
on a second or third date. But as she eased into conversation with
Maria, her worries were assuaged a bit. They talked about everything.
Rumors in the office. Personal life. Well, everything except those
gruesome murders. Every time their conversation moved towards that
topic, Maria gently steered it in another direction.
The wine glasses were filled and refilled several times. It was a
mediocre wine but it was alcoholic and neither of them could ever afford
a good vintage so it tasted good enough.
Riza, who could hold her alcohol, was surprised at how tipsy she was
when she stood up, the sudden dizziness coming over her. She giggled
lightly and Maria told her they needed to take a cab home. Riza nodded
and watch Maria saunter off in her tight black slacks suddenly aware of
the warm metal between her legs.
Maria came back a few moments later and led her outside of the
restaurant, wrapping an arm around her waist. Riza looked down at Maria
with flushed cheeks. "We should go back to your place," she said,
breaking one of her tenets. If she went back to Maria's place, they
would probably end up having sex on the first date. The fact that Maria
was an officer had still not hit her.
But when Maria smiled and leaned up to give Riza a hungry kiss, nothing
like those timid gentle kisses her young lovers shared, Riza kissed back
hard, wondering if she could redefine her rules to allow such
exploration.
When the taxi driver arrived, Maria had her hand up Riza's shirt while
the slightly inebriated blonde sat in her lap. It took two harsh honks
for Riza to blush and pull away from the desperate kiss. She smiled
apologetically at the driver and pulled her shirt all the way down,
covering her midriff. Another rule broken. No public displays of
affection.
The driver laughed at them and asked them how much they had to drink.
Riza simply curled up against Maria and let her tell the driver where to
go, her mind pleasantly fuzzy and her body wonderfully warm.
They stumbled their way into the house and exchanged a few more sloppy
kisses before Maria pushed Riza up against the wall in the hallway. She
suddenly reached between Riza's legs and grabbed the gun, pushing it up
between Riza's breasts. "Mmmm... I never thought I'd date The
Snuff-man," she said grinning, looking down at the pistol between Riza's
ample cleavage.
Riza looked at Maria shocked, unable to figure out how she put the
pieces together. Maria pushed the gun deeper into her cleavage, that
familiar pistol, and Riza lay flat against the wall, worried more now
about how she was going to survive this.
Still pressing the gun against Riza's heaving chest, Maria looked back
at the umbrella stand. She hadn't bothered to clean up before Riza had
come over, so she grabbed the red bra hanging over the umbrella stand.
She looped one of the straps around Riza's left wrist, tightening it
until it held her well.
Riza's eyes widened but she did nothing to stop this. The kisses, the
groping, they had been nothing like the tender lovers she had before.
The ones she could take advantage of so easily. She had broken another
one of her rules.
She had let her guard down.
She didn't argue as Maria looped her right wrist with the same bra,
tying them together. After all, she had brought this upon herself by
breaking her rules, by ignoring her tenets. Carefully, Maria tossed the
gun into the living room, listening as it landed on the sofa. Now, with
two hands, she took the stretchy red bra and hooked it over the coat
hanger, leaving Riza helpless against the wall.
Maria stepped back, taking a good look at her now powerless comrade.
"Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye..." she said carefully, stepping toward Riza
with obvious lust in her eyes. "It looks like you're wearing much too
much."
Riza didn't know where the knife came from but just as quickly as Maria
procured the knife, her clothes were scattered in ribbons on the floor.
There was little to no alcohol left in her system to pad the fear so she
closed her eyes, hoping that if she did so, she wouldn't remember it.
But she gave Maria an opening as she closed her eyes. She felt the soft
tickle of silk on her face, and before she knew what was happening, the
scarf was tied tight behind her head. Every touch and kiss would be a
surprise now. She'd have no warning. The cool air was making her shiver
and her nipples were so hard. It was almost a blessing when she felt
warm lips on her breasts and fingers pressing at the dull bruises
scattered throughout her inner thighs.
She arched into the touch, welcoming the warmth and heard a light giggle
from in front of her. A tongue licked gingerly at the hard nub of her
nipple before Maria took the whole thing into her mouth, scraping her
teeth gently as she tongued the rippled edge.
Riza had lost control and there was nothing she could do about it now.
The fingers playing with her bruises were making her wet as hell but
giving no real relief. The mouth, now nipping at the sensitive flesh
around her nipples, were making her breathe in small pants but did
nothing to sate her sudden arousal.
She whimpered and fuck, she'd broken another rule. She would never beg;
she would always take. But her hands were tied up, she was hanging from
a coat rack, and she was blindfolded. How the hell was she supposed to
take!?
Suddenly all contact was gone and there was just the cool air on her
skin. She whimpered again, wanting the moist lips and playing fingers
back. After a few moment she felt Maria's warm, moist breath on her ear.
"Tell me what you want, Riza," she heard and it make her shiver even
more.
"I—I want you," she heard herself saying. That couldn't be the alcohol
talking because she'd metabolized that long ago. Even in fear, she
couldn't imagine herself saying such a thing. That must have be the lust
talking, a new emotion, a new sensation she'd never felt before.
"Really?" she heard, but it was further away this time. "I think I can
tell that... You're so wet." A hand was groping her ass again and she
breathed in suddenly, not expecting the contact. "You do have such a
nice rear, Lieutenant," Maria said in a husky voice. "But these blonde
curls..." Oh god, she could just hear the smirk in Maria's voice.
Fingers suddenly tangled in her pubic hair and she whimpered, trying to
push back against Maria's hand, force it lower. "Touch me," she said
quietly, wishing she could see the officer before her.
"Like this?" Maria asked, trailing her hand up Riza's chest, stroking
between her breasts.
"N-no," Riza said, finding this new game ridiculous. Maria stroked her
nipples with that hand and she bit her lip. "Do you like that?" Maria
asked, leaning it to kiss Riza again.
Suddenly, the game seemed to have fair rules. Riza liked rules that
involved her being able to retaliate, actually give, not just take.
After all, before she blew their brains out, she always gave them the
best night of their lives.
Maria's kisses were never gentle, and well before Maria's tongue was in
her mouth, she could taste the tinny flavor of blood in their mouths.
Riza nipped at Maria's lower lip and the woman pressed up against her,
tangling her fingers in the blonde locks to pull her closer.
Riza gasped when suddenly, Maria broke the kiss, trying to catch her
breath. Maria's thigh was between her legs and her breasts were pushed
up against her own. Riza struggled against her restraints for a moment,
but the coat hook was too curved to get the bra up and over.
"I like you like this," Maria said, pulling back, her sticky juice on
Riza's thigh. She traced a finger back down towards her aching clit.
"Because I'm enjoying this little game, Riza."
Her answer was a simple moan as Maria stroked her clit, lapping at
Riza's thigh, cleaning up the mess she had left. "I like to see you
helpless," she continued, licking at the corner of her mouth. "Without
your gun, you don't seem to be as dominant."
Riza sighed her acknowledgment. "Just make me come," she whimpered,
thrusting against Maria's stroking hand. "Hard, fast, and now..."
Maria laughed, nipping at Riza's inner thighs, riddled with bruises
already. "But Riza, we've barely started playing the game!"
Maria pulled back again, trying to tell Riza she wasn't in control.
Warmth swirled around her other nipple as Maria took it into her mouth,
sucking, nibbling, and finally pulling back, leaving the blonde
breathless and hanging. Maria's hand sneaked behind her to stroke the
small of her back. The touches were light, but not uncertain at all.
More than anything, Riza just wished she could see where they were
coming from. Expect them. Be in some sort of control.
Eventually the touches ceased entirely. Her small whimpers did her no
good; she only felt the cool air on her skin. She couldn't even hear
Maria. Eventually she resorted to begging, asking where Maria was, why
she was doing this to her. After that, she slumped into unconsciousness,
her arms above her head losing feeling and her body craving sleep.
When she woke up, her body ached so badly. Her arms felt like they were
dislocated and in her fog of sleep, she couldn't remember why. "What
happened last night?" she mumbled, throwing her arm over her eyes.
Suddenly, she pulled her arm off her face, her eyes snapping open.
"I'm late for work!" she cried, rolling out of bed, hitting the floor
hard.
Apparently, rolling out of bed was a bad idea, because the pink, silk
scarf that had blindfolded her last night was now tied carefully around
her wrists while another similar scarf was tied around her ankles. That
alone wouldn't have been enough to incapacitate her, but the ties around
her ankles seemed firmly secured to something higher than the bed,
keeping her from pulling herself back up. She couldn't move more than an
inch in any direction. She was naked and helpless on Maria Ross's floor.
At least she wasn't blindfolded this time, she told herself, watching
Ross stride into the bedroom. "I heard you fall off the bed, Riza," she
said, wrapping her arm around Riza's waist and helping her back on the
bed, carefully groping her in the process.
"I'm late for work," Riza said, frowning. "The least you could do was
wake me up in time. Or let me sleep untied!"
"No 'thank you' for getting you off the floor?" Maria asked, pouting as
if she was genuinely hurt.
"Thank you for helping me back onto the bed, Maria," Riza said in a
monotone, like a kindergarten forced into repentance. "I'm glad to be of
help," Maria answered in a jovial tone, getting out a hairbrush from her
nightstand.
Maria sat on the bed next to Riza and started brushing her tangled
blonde hair. "And no, you aren't going to be late for work. It's
Saturday," she said, finally addressing Maria's concerns.
Riza racked her mind, trying to figure out how she lost track of the
days. Well, she did work the last sixteen days without taking a weekend
off. Before leaving she remembered vaguely Colonel Mustang telling her
she could take the weekend off. No, he told her she had to take the
weekend off. Wasn't she the one who normally worked his schedule?
Maria pressed her hand down on Riza's shoulder. "Hold still," she said.
"Your hair is really tangled."
Riza looked at her confused. "Why are you brushing my hair?" she asked.
"When you take a shower, it's hard to clean tangled hair," Maria said
with a grin. "Don't you want to get cleaned up? You're pretty messy..."
Riza changed the subject immediately, leaning in to give Maria a
dizzying kiss, sucking on her lower lip, grazing it with her teeth.
"Mmm... Maria, I didn’t expect you to be the kind of girl who would
leave her lover unstated. Or the kind of girl that would leave herself
unsated."
"Oh, I wasn't unsated," Maria retaliated with a sly wink. "I masturbated
for hours watching you tied up like that. And besides, I think not
giving you what you wanted was a very good lesson for you."
A dejected look passed over Riza's face. "What's that supposed to mean?"
she asked, trying to keep a grumpy tone out of her voice.
"Your little girlfriends and boyfriends beg for you to not shoot them,
Riza..." Maria said, stroking her fingers through Riza's hair softly.
"Why don't you ever listen to them?"
Riza paused, the gentleness of the touch and the seriousness of the
question taking her aback. "I—uh..." She looked up at Maria, not quite
sure what to say.
Maria silenced her with a kiss. "I think you need to learn to listen to
other people, Lieutenant," she told her, slowly untying her ankles. "You
have all this power in the office. You have all the power in the bed.
Isn't it about time you let someone else choose the rules?"
Rules. This was a game, Riza reminded herself. If she could figure out
the rules, she could still win. She played to win, right?
She leaned forward, giving Maria another kiss. "So, in a relationship,"
Riza began, but was silenced by Maria's fingers.
"In a healthy relationship," Maria emphasized, staring to work on Riza's
wrists.
"So, in a healthy relationship," Riza began, looking behind her at
Maria. "You need to listen to what the other person wants."
"And not leave them hanging," Maria added with a wink.
Riza laughed at that and flexed her wrists, glad to finally feel the
blood flow again.
Maria climbed into Riza's lap, sensually wrapping her legs behind Riza,
tilting her head up for a kiss. "Riza," she said with a serious look on
her face. "If we listen to each other, we can both get what we want."
The kiss wasn't as hard this time. Their lips were bruised from last
night and they both had small cuts in their mouth. Riza licked at the
edge of Maria's lower lip and the woman sighed open her mouth, allowing
entrance to the prodding tongue. For a while, just kissing was good,
their tongues seeking greater dominance, their lips pressed tight
against each other. Eventually, however, Maria pulled away, her cheeks
flushed and her lips shiny.
Last time, Maria had gotten undressed while Riza was blindfolded, but
the dark-haired officer had redressed while Riza was sleeping,
preferring to sleep in pajamas. The flannel bedclothes were easy to take
off, but Riza took her time, kissing at Maria's neck as she undid each
button with care, stroking at the bare skin as it was exposed. Maria's
gasps were light and more feminine than Riza would have expected from
her serious demeanor. She brushed the flannel top off of Maria's
shoulders and caressed her breasts, holding them in the flat of her
palm, the dark nipples hardening against the calluses of her fingers.
Riza nipped at the tendons on Maria's shoulder then sought her mouth
again, swallowing the sighs and gasps while her fingers still massaged
the officer's ample breasts. Maria's hands had been clasping the sheets,
looking for anything to hold onto, but they wandered up Riza's back, one
taking a firm hold in her hair, the other holding herself steady,
pressing up against small of the blonde's back.
Riza pulled back again, giving Maria's lips a quick peck as she spread
light kisses down along her cheekbones, her jaw, collarbone, the hollow
of her neck. The boxers Maria had been wearing under the flannel shift
were rubbing between them as Maria ground against her, promising a
friction burn eventually.
Riza pushed Maria off of her, laying her flat on the bed, squaring
herself above her, grabbing the hem of the boxers in her teeth and
pulling the slightly sticky fabric over the woman's hips and all the way
past her feet, careful to brush up against any sensitive skin she could
find. Riza unclenched her jaw and dropped the boxers on the floor, right
next to the discarded scarves.
Slowly, Riza began reforming her control that Maria had crumbled so
easily last night. The ache in her arms was a constant reminder that
Maria, if she wished it, could easily turn the tables once more. She
held herself above Maria's body again, looking at her lusty face,
licking at her lips, and nipping at her collarbone. Eventually she began
licking down Maria's body, caressing under her breasts with long sweeps
of her tongue, nibbling at the ribs exposed whenever Maria gasped a
breath in, and eventually swirled her tongue around Maria's navel.
She dipped her tongue in for a taste then licked around the soft curves
of Maria's stomach, her fingers grasping at Maria's hips, curling under
to stroke her ass. She carefully nipped Maria's inner thigh listening to
the feminine sighs echo away, replaced by hungrier throatier gasps and
moans. Eventually, Maria gave up, threading her fingers in Riza's hair,
aching for contact.
After only a bit of teasing, wanting to give Maria what she desired so
much, Riza licked along the edge of the officer's swollen labia,
tonguing the edge lightly before exposing her clit and scraping her
teeth lightly across it. Riza pulled back, much to Maria's complaint, so
she could reposition herself, bringing a hand between Maria's thighs to
thrust a finger in while she worried Maria's clit in her mouth.
She added a second finger, stretching Maria and sucking harder,
listening as the intensity of the moans grew. Eventually Maria came
hard, clenching around her fingers. She drew the orgasm out, still
sucking at her clit. Maria was breathless and lay against the bed for a
while before leaning up and licking her juice off of Riza's face,
kissing her once there was nothing left to clean up.
They kissed gently for a while, Maria still licking at the edges of
Riza's lips and cheekbones, able to taste a shadow of herself.
Eventually, Riza pulled back and licked along the shell of Maria's ear.
"In a healthy relationship," she began, drumming her fingers down
Maria's back, "we both get what we need, right?"
Maria laughed, kissing at Riza's neck. "I said want, sweetie. But I
think you're right. You need it as well." Maria bit hard at Riza's neck,
drawing a bit of blood. Riza gasped in surprise but then mumbled
incoherently as Maria lapped at the wound and pressed her back against
the pillows. "So tell me what you want, Riza..."
"I want you to touch me... rub my clit hard, take it between your teeth,
lick it, thrust your fingers hard into me and make me come and scream
your name," she panted out in one gasp, her eyes rolling back as Maria
massaged her breasts, leaning forward to suck hard on one of the
nipples."I'm...I'm ready Maria... please... I just want... need..." Riza
managed to say, licking at her suddenly dry lips.
Maria didn't bother to answer, just dove her head between Riza's thighs,
licking up, finding that hard nub and suckling. Riza had never been this
wet without a dying lover in front of her and even then she'd never felt
this good. She thought she was calling out Maria's name, but she seemed
to be forgetting what she meant to say a few seconds after it was said.
She felt overwhelmed but as Maria pushed a couple of fingers roughly
inside of her, the orgasm swept her and this time she was sure she
called out Maria's name, shuddering under her touch.
Maria gave Riza a sloppy, juicy kiss as she grinned, cuddling up against
the blonde officer. Riza turned over, giving Maria a much harder kiss.
"Maria," she said, grinning widely. "You gave me what I needed. But you
said we could get what we wanted...And if I'm not going to work today,
I'm up to several more games..."
The look Maria gave her was priceless and Riza wished she had her
camera. But the scarves were on the floor and the gun was in the living
room.
Apparently neither were necessary.
A sticky, smiling, sated Maria Ross stared up at the camera. "Say
cheese," Riza said.
For the first time, one of Riza's lovers looked up at the camera,
laughing lightly. "Cheese," Maria said, sticking out her tongue.
Most of the pictures wouldn't be appropriate to put in a wallet. They'd
stay home with Lizbeth, Jessie, Tom, Mark, Ginny, Carol, Katherine, and
Marie. Maria stood up and told Riza she was going to take a shower,
which somehow translated into Riza taking one with her.
Before Riza pulled her clothes on to make her way back to her room in
the dorms, Maria paused. "I was doing dorm security," she said quietly.
"And it might not be me next time that finds those photographs on top of
your dresser. If you're going to keep them, I suggest you move out of
the dorms."
Riza stared at her for a while, trying to figure out what she was
talking about. Then her eyes went wide and she nodded. "I've been
thinking about getting my own flat," she admitted, swallowing hard,
having forgotten about the people that came to check on the rooms.
Finally, she looked down at Maria and cupped her cheek gently. "Thanks,
Maria. For everything."
A couple of months later, Hughes came up to Riza's desk but the
photographs he shoved in front of her were of Gracia holding a young
Elysia. "See the new necklace we got her?" he gushed, pulling out eight
different variations of the same shot. Riza felt for her wallet, not her
gu,n and laughed lightly, thinking of the one appropriate shot she had
of Maria in her wallet.
As it was perfect, she only needed one.
The case was abandoned seventy-nine days after there were no more clues.
Eight people had been murdered: six girls and two military cadets. The
military had no idea who did it. They had the specs on the gun and
plenty of photographs but no suspect.
Maria sauntered over to Riza's desk, spreading the Investigation Unit's
terrible photographs over her pristine desk. "They've closed the case,
Riza... The Snuff-man never touched another person... I wonder why?" The
look of innocence Maria shot her was pure and pristine. It took
everything Riza could muster to keep from laughing aloud.
She neatly stacked the photographs and placed them in her desk. "Hughes
better not find out you took these," Riza said calmly, first making sure
no one was around.
"He's too busy with that new rapist," Maria said offhandedly.
"Probably," Riza answered lightly, shutting her desk drawer. "He did get
his paperwork filed correctly this time."
"So you've really stopped?" Maria asked, leaning over Riza's desk,
playing with her fountain pens, accidentally spilling ink.
"Well, I am seeing someone," Riza said firmly, quickly taking her pens
away from Maria.
"Tonight?" she asked hopefully.
"Of course," Riza added, a smirk on her face. "But this time, let's last
long enough for drinks."
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