No Prompter;
This story was actually inspired by watching the movie Cat People (1982) with Nastassja Kinski and John Hurt. The specific inspiration comes from a black and white scene in the movie, which takes place in the bayou, a scene that I found to be interesting with far more possibilities than the Hollywood writers did. It is also my thoughts of an alternative to the ending of the movie, I did not like the way Hollywood ended the movie. It is also somewhat satirical (even sarcastic) in nature toward the Hollywood horror method. (Don't you love the scene in Scary Movie II where she chooses between the two signs? [ Safety -> Certain Death <- ] )
(Please note, some scenes in this story are very graphic in nature.)

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Rules of the Game
By jd


I could hardly contain myself at work. Tonight was the night. Thursday at 8:00 PM. Tonight I would finally meet her. The MANEATER her pseudo said. I was having difficulty concentrating at work the anticipation was getting so great. Finally, a woman who would handle me, a woman who would stand for herself, a woman who wanted something different.

I remember placing the post in a local BBS quite well;

> swm mid 30's seeks swf about 20 to 30 with aggressive attitude.
> I am looking for a woman who knows what she wants and takes it.
> I'm looking for a woman so aggressive it's dangerous.
> LOOKING FOR THE EDGE


Most of the replies were from the leather, whips, and chains crowd, giving descriptions of the punishments to await me if I didn't respond. But there was one that actually caught my attention.

> *LOOKING FOR THE EDGE I'm your girl.
> swf mid 20's with a flair for what is different.
> I am as dangerous a girl as you ever want to be near.
> MANEATER


It took a couple of messages back and forth, but last Monday we finally agreed to meet at Rhory's Thursday at eight PM sharp. She had even warned me, "Don't be late, I'm not nice when men are late." She had given me instructions on where to sit and wait for her, and told me what she would be wearing.

And now it is Thursday and I will be meeting her tonight. I was making more mistakes than I care to admit my entire day at work, just thinking what she might be like. I knew she was blond, green eyes, 6' 1", etc, but what will she really look like?

I was so excited I arrived at Rhory's at Six Thirty, and then proceeded to wait for the next 90 minutes. But when she finally walked in it was worth the wait.

She scanned the entire room as she entered, and when she saw me seated where and how she instructed me to; she walked over to join me. She had a smile so inviting it just said 'come-on-in' and I had the impression I wouldn't want out once in. She wasn't just pretty, she was beautiful. She was wearing a one piece red dress and a white fur jacket. Her hair was blond, real blond not died, shoulder length and curled inward. But her face also carried a look that projected softness, tenderness, and kindness.

She was able to give you a look of seduction, while having the most innocent eyes at the same time. There were no hard edges to her at all, she was totally soft, yet her build was quite statuesque. There was no question she was also athletic, the latent strength in her muscles showed in her every move, and I could see that she had a trained walk, it was almost a stalk the way she moved.

I got up and took her coat like a gentleman to hang on her chair. It was strange, there was no lining, just more fur on the inside, like it was homemade.

She sat down and said, "Looking for the edge, I presume."

Her voice was soft almost songlike, with a touch of southern accent, it complemented her eyes. When I finally realized she had spoken to me, I stammered "huh, eh, YES!, yes I am. My real name is Mike James, I take it you are the Maneater."

She smiled and laughed, her whole body was involved when she smiled, and not just her face "That's me, Elizabeth Campbell," she said. With all the noise in the bar it sounded almost as if she had used an N in her name instead of an M, 'Canble"

The waiter came, she ordered white wine, I ordered beer. She told me she was in modeling, I told her I made computers talk to each other. You can pull off enough yards of that to fill another 90 minutes of small talk, cut it to fit in a couple of places, and you would probably be just about right as to what our conversation was like after that.

She finally said, "You know, Mike, I like you." She steadied her look at me, "I just have to ask you one question though." (okay here it comes) "Can you listen, I mean really listen to a woman?"

"Huh?" I stumbled. "Well, yes, I can." I answered.

"I'm serious Mike. I need to know if you can listen to me." She leaned toward me and continued, "It has been my experience that men don't listen. They hear only what they want to hear, and they never hear what you tell them. They're so busy knowing everything, you can't tell them anything," she said with a sigh. "Sometimes I think the fastest way to get a man to ignore me is to say 'listen, this is important'." Then she added. "I have to know that you are a man who can listen to me before we go any further."

After a moment she cocked her head to one side and said, "Mike, I promise you, I will never be dishonest with you. I will always tell you the truth. See I've started by letting you know that I am a Maneater, and when I look at you I see a nice hunk of meat. And the truth is I really want you to join me for dinner at my home tomorrow night."

"Really?" I asked. "That's fantastic, I can't wait."

"I just want you to remember that I have told you the truth about myself. I don't ever want to hear you say that I deceived you in any way," she said. "One other thing, Mike, if I give you instructions to do something, please follow them exactly."

"That's no problem," I started.

"No, listen, this is important, you must follow my instructions exactly to the letter. You won't like what happens if you don't." She paused for emphasis and then she added, "Please Mike, please be sure, follow any instructions I give you - EXACTLY -- to the letter!"

We exchanged phone numbers, parted and drove our separate ways. She in a Porsche 928 and me in my Buick.

It's Friday, it's worse than Thursday. Now I knew what she was like. I couldn't concentrate on anything I was doing at all. When the phone rang I almost jumped through the ceiling. I didn't realize she had distracted me to this extent. When I answered the phone I heard Elizabeth's voice on the other end.

"Mike, how are you doing?" She asked.

Damn, I knew it, tonight was off.

"I'm doing fine, Elizabeth. What's up?" I asked tentatively.

"You need to do something before you come over tonight. You need to have a surrogate. I have an address for you to go to. Are you ready?"

She gave me an address and instructions.

"When you get there, tell him you want a Six week old male, three to three and a half pounds, and feisty, one that is willing to fight," she said, "Do you have that."

"Yes I do, what's this about?" I asked her.

"Don't worry, just follow the instructions and be certain it's a male, offer to pay extra to be sure. Can you do that Mike?"

"Yes, yes I can."

"And don't forget, a fighter too."

"Right, a fighter," I said.

She hung up.

Heading out of town I noticed that she lived in a nice quiet rural part of the county. I was headed down a two-lane country road looking for the farmhouse she had described. I saw the sign well before I arrived. It was grayed plywood by the mailbox with an arrow pointing down a long driveway. The sign said in large white hand painted letters, RABBITS, and underneath that in smaller red letters SNAKE FEEDERS.

It was a relatively small farmhouse in this rural section and it included the pickup truck that no house in the area should be without, old and rusted. When I knocked on the door the gentleman who answered didn't surprise me either. He fit this place exactly, right down to the bib overalls. If I had seen this in a movie I would have been jeering the lack of imagination on the part of the writers and directors.

"What can I do ya' fer'?" he asked, filling his role perfectly. I couldn't help think that this was all part of a setup on her part just for me.

'I'm supposed to tell you I want a 6-week-old male, emphasis on the male. I suppose that she meant a rabbit, since that's what your sign says," I said.

'Six week, huh, that's pretty small ya' know. Not much to em' at that age," he said. "You say a woman sent you here?"

"Uh, yes. She said to stop here and ask for a Six-week-old male, and be certain it is a male. In fact I'm supposed to offer to pay extra to insure that it is a male." I added, "So here I am. Can I get one?"

"Can do," he said. He looked thoughtful and then he added "Strange lady that. She seems to send enough of ya' fellers this way." He led me into the back where there were rows of cages, "Only it seems she gets real tired of ya' soon enough. I don't think I've seen one of ya' show up more'n once or twice."

He went on, "I think I saw one of ya's three times, but by then he wasn't lookin' for somthin' specific like ya', just said 'gimme a rabbit' and cut out." He scratched his hair. Think I saw he turned up missin' some time later or somtin' saw his pitcher in the paper, 'least I think it was him. Thought I saw a coupla' tuthers too. I can't tell for sure, my eyesight tisn't what it used to be.

"Oh yea, " I said as he reached into a cage full of small white rabbits, "can you get one that's feisty? She said a fighter so I guess the more he kicks and scratches the better." I added.

"Got quite a list there, don't ya' feller," he said giving me a quizzical look. "I guess ya' know what yer doin' though."

The one he selected made a fuss all right, there was nothing but feet and ears gyrating everywhere as we placed him in the box and closed the lid. He even scratched at the sides and tried to push the lid off as I drove to her house.

She lived in a modest rambler, with a white picket fence, an immaculate lawn, and a tremendous amount of flowers in the three flowerbeds. Either she had a super green thumb, or she paid a gardener quite a bit to do her yard.

I saw the Porsche in the driveway, and went up and rang the bell. For such a quiet community she was prepared for the worst. The door looked like it was to a vault, steel with electronic dead bolts. I rang the bell and she opened the door. She was wearing a pink silk shirt, with brown loose fitting slacks. She had a gold necklace on and her hair was down, shoulder length in that beautiful natural blond.

She looked at me and said, "Well..., did you get him?"

"I think so," I said holding out the box.

She opened the box and pulled the rabbit out. "Oh yes," she almost squealed, "He looks just right."

She turned him over the way I'd seen the man at the farm do and pinched him also. For an instant I thought I saw her tongue dart out and touch him. "Perfect, it's a little buck, very good, Mike, he'll fill in for you quite well. Tonight will be a most wonderful evening."

She carried the rabbit with her into the kitchen and poured herself some wine. "Sit down anywhere you like," she called to me in the living room. The house was nicely furnished, it was tremendously large on the inside. Lots of room to walk around, and I noticed that it had a mazelike quality with no doors on any of the rooms save two, the bedroom and the bathroom. What didn't fit was the carpet. Rather than the pile type carpet the department stores will sell you, this was more like what you might find in a car.

"It's for traction," she said handing me a beer. I was on my knees running my hand over the carpet when she stepped in. I sat in the chair with my beer and she went over to the loveseat across from me and set her glass of wine on the end table. She sat down in the loveseat with the rabbit cradled between her breasts. (I couldn't help wishing I were the one cradled there.) she stroked his head to keep him calm. She produced a package of Virginia Slims Menthol 120's and pulled one out. She lit it and sat back relaxing moving the rabbit to her lap.

This was a surprise to me; she had sat with me in a bar for the better part of two hours and shown no indication of wanting to smoke. (we are not in California) The effect however was fascinating. There was a difference in how she smoked from other women I'd seen. She didn't have that haunted look of the women huddling in the doorways at work. It was a sight to see, she would take a pull, and then pop open her mouth with the smoke rolling right there in her mouth, and then suddenly pull it back into her lungs. Next with a satisfied look she would blow the smoke into the room almost smiling. Then it hit me. She was smoking because she liked it. She didn't have to. If she worked downtown you wouldn't see her in any doorway, she'd wait until she was at home and could enjoy it.

"I like to give them time to get to know me when they arrive," she said. "This one's just about perfect as can be. Cute and cuddly like you, and he looks quick too. He's just like you in many ways." She started kissing his head. "He needs a name." She leaned back with a thoughtful look.

"Peter is too cliché, and Cottontail is overused." She looked at me. "I think Snowball will fit you just fine. How about you Snowball, do you like that?"

"And tonight, Snowball, you get to join me for dinner. Does that sound like fun?" As she continued to sit with him rubbing his head and smoking her cigarette she hummed to him softly, a song which seemed familiar yet I was not able to place it. It seemed to have a strange relaxing effect on both the rabbit and me. When she finished her cigarette she sat up and put an apple wedge under the rabbit's nose.

"I wish I had a week to 10 days to feed him these apples, makes them sweeter," she commented. "I think you should eat more apples too, Mike."

With the rabbit nibbling at apple wedges in her lap, we picked up our conversation from the night before where it left off. I finding out more about her, and she, me.

Some time later she gave me a look of pure mischief. "You know, I have to tell you, I like sports," she said "and tonight we have a special game to play, little Snowball and I. It's a game I call Life and Death." Without warning she changed how she was holding the little rabbit, and he began his gyrations again. She looked at me and said, "You picked a great one, I hate the ones that just sit there. I think this one will run." And with that she put him on the carpet.

"Now Mike, I need you to do something for me. Stay put, and don't interfere, okay?

I didn't answer.

"I know this is our game, but he is your surrogate, so don't meddle, just let us play it out." With that she started chasing the rabbit around the house.

I know it sounds as if it should look silly, but it didn't. You could see by his expression the rabbit was running for his life. He was registering fear that bordered on terror. His eyes were bulged, his body tensed to dart at an instant notice, and she was giving him that notice. And for her part, there was no question about the genuine intensity she was showing. In fact, she was being stimulated by this. I could tell this was a sexual thrill for her. It was a game and it wasn't. She was going to catch him, and he was giving it his all not to be caught.

As the "game" progressed I could see her athleticism showing. Her body glistened with sweat, and her muscles rippled as she chased the rabbit, to what end I was not sure. She was muttering under her breath now. "Good one, little Snowball." and "That's right, come to mama." Somehow I couldn't help the feeling that somehow I was right there on the carpet with him, being chased by her, and running for my life too. I couldn't explain why, but I was identifying with the rabbit completely.

It was almost anticlimactic when she finally grabbed him. Spent from running around the house with no real escape route available, and overcome with terror, he finally sat still in one place for her to simply come and pick him up. "Don't give up now, little Snowball," she said, "I'm going to take your life, fight me to keep it."

She carried him into the kitchen, which looked more like a commercial kitchen than a private home. She pulled down a string she had hanging above the sink. She made a loop in the string and placed one of his hind legs in the loop. He kicked up his gyrations again. I heard her say "Yes, fight me, I'm taking your life, fight me to keep it. Good little Snowball, fight hard, don't let Elizabeth win." I could see that she was still enjoying this, her nipples were hard and her pants were showing a spot where her wetness was seeping through. I lost any doubt that this was a sexual thrill for her. When she got the leg in the loop the animal began to scream. It sounded like a cross between a small monkey's screech and a pig squealing. Whatever it sounded like, it made her even more excited.

With the rabbit hanging by one leg from the string, she placed her left hand on the back of his head, with her thumb and forefinger going down his jaw line, and using her palm to move the ears out of the way. She picked up a butcher knife with her right hand, and stretched the rabbit pushing down with her left hand. He was still fighting, but she had him under control now, his eyes were bulging out, his breath was rapid, and the screaming had stopped. She bent over to him and gently whispered into his ear, "Guess what little Snowball, the game is over, I win, you loose." And she removed his head with one motion of the knife.

Blood gushed out as the head came off; it covered the back of her left hand. The leg not in the loop continued to kick even with the head removed. She placed the no longer usable head into the sink. She put the knife down, turned to look at me and said, "I do love it so when they struggle like that. The ones that just give up make me angry. But the ones that fight, they give me a real delight, I love their struggles just before the kill best." She licked the blood off of her hand.

It wasn't until now that I realized I had gotten up and walked over to watch what she was doing in the kitchen with him. I stood there stunned by the turn of events. She smiled and said, "He needs to bleed some before I can continue butchering him." and she walked over to the dining table and sat down in one of the chairs pulled down her pants and said, "Lick Me!"

It wasn't a request, it was a command. It wasn't until I bent down to do so that I discovered she had aroused me as well by her actions. I was so hard it hurt. But to watch the rabbit fight for his life, and to see her so totally dominate him, and then take his life from him while talking in such a kind tone to tell him it's over had done something to me as well. I had lost myself to her right along with that rabbit, she now owned me in just the same way. I quickly found her clit with my tongue in order to stimulate her. She was completely wet, so much so her pants were definitely stained. She screamed in ecstasy and clamped my head between her legs with almost inhuman strength when she climaxed. After catching her breath she looked down at me and said, "It's so much better when the man's still around to do that."

She quickly pulled her pants back up and said, "Thank you, I needed that. Now be a dear and go out back and light the coals. Almost in a daze, I stepped onto the back patio and found a kettle barbecue sitting there with coals set to either side. As I applied the fluid to the coals she stepped out smoking another cigarette. I lit the coals and sat in one of the other chairs. I noticed that she also had a full pit barbecue next to the patio complete with 3/4" rod and crank for doing a side of beef. I wandered what kind of parties she had this house setup for.

She took a puff on her cigarette and said to me, "I told you I was dangerous, just ask Snowball." Somehow I couldn't help a feeling of being repulsed and attracted at the same time. I wanted to get away from this woman, yet I was strangely enraptured with her every move.

Well I had asked for this, weather she was unbalanced, or I was didn't matter. I'd gotten stimulated by the drama too. Just then I saw a white rabbit run out across the grass. I looked at her and asked, "More animals for your game?"

"Oh no," she answered. "Those are does, I never eat girls, I'm a Maneater. I release them back here so they can enjoy their life free, without any predators. It seems some men just can't follow instructions to save their lives."

When she finished her cigarette she went back into the kitchen to remove the fur from the rabbit. She placed it in a plastic bag and threw it into the freezer. She then slit open the belly and removed the organs. She saved the heart, liver, lungs, and kidneys in a separate bowl. Everything else went into a compost bag. "For my garden," she said. She bent each of the paws backward until they snapped off, and put them in the compost as well. She then washed the carcass in the sink.

She had a small rod (a miniature version of the one over the pit) that she shoved up his rear and it came out his neck. She handed it to me and said "Since he's here for you, why don't you go cook little Snowball for me."

I think I was glad I'd picked him up so she could put on this show for me. I found it to be a different form of foreplay. She was demonstrating how savage, and therefore, how dangerous she was. I guess I would be having some rabbit for dinner tonight, so I went ahead out into the back patio and cooked him.

When he finished cooking I came back in to find the table elegantly set for one, not two, with candles and white wine. There was an oversized plate with the heart, liver, lungs, and kidneys set on it. She had apparently fried them separately. "Go ahead, put him on the plate" she said to me. She was wearing a black evening dress now, and she was stunning. Well she told me she was a model, I guess quick changes are routine for her. Looking at her I got hard so fast I kinked in my underwear and had to reach down to adjust myself. She instructed me to sit in the chair to one side, and to watch her. She lit the candles, lowered the lights, and sat down.

She picked up the heart and held it in her fingers. "I always begin with the heart." She said. She put the heart on her extended tongue and snatched it in quickly and began to chew. Then the liver, the lungs, and finally the kidneys. She rolled her tongue around her lips to let me know she enjoyed that.

Next she pulled a front leg off, right up to the shoulder, and began to lick it like a lollypop. She started to suck on it and move it in and out of her mouth bobbing her head up and down while she did this. When she saw I was beginning to roll with her she bit and tore the flesh from the bone. I couldn't hide my wince when she did that. That elicited a laugh from her. She proceeded to clean all of the flesh off of the bones. She repeated the process with the other front leg. Then she started in on the neck and ribs. She was like a lion on a zebra carcass tearing flesh and swallowing, sometimes not even chewing the chunks as they went down. When the ribs were clean, she snapped the backbone to and set them out of the way. She continued devouring the tender flesh down the backbone to the hind legs.

"You know, I liked this little guy. He put up a good fight. The ones that don't fight, they really don't deserve to be eaten by me." She winked at me. "But, rules are rules.

When she finished cleaning the last of his bones, she sat back and lit another cigarette. As she smoked, she began humming that song again and I found myself drifting as if hypnotized by it. When she finished the cigarette she looked at me and said. "That was delicious, not as good as you'd have been, but delicious."

She put on some slow music and asked me, "Would you like to dance?"

"eh, Yeah, sure," I said.

She drew me close to her with the same unnatural strength I'd noticed before, and we started to move our bodies together. I can't say her breath was sweet, after all those cigarettes, all I could smell was tobacco breath, with a hint of something else. Something that brought up primal warnings in the back of my mind. Her iron tight grip drew me close into her and I relaxed and forgot about primal warnings, this girl was exactly what I had requested. What was I complaining about? So a rabbit gets himself dead. She got a dinner out of it, why should I be disturbed?

She pulled me close and kissed me full on the mouth. From her mouth to her hips her body expressed passion. I could feel her excitement and desire as she held me close. She guided my right hand to her breast and showed me the motion to use to make her more excited. "Oh yes. Just like that," she said as I continued to rub her breast on my own.

Her hand found my crotch to massage me and her eyes let me know we weren't even close to being finished for the evening. I continued to massage her breast in response, and she doubled her efforts. She led me into the bedroom where she proceeded to remove my clothes. "Now comes desert." She told me as she sat on the edge of the bed and took me in her mouth. She drew me deep and used only her mouth until I literally exploded. She licked her lips and said, "I like a man who drinks pineapple juice every day."

"How did you know I drink pineapple juice every day?" I asked her. "I never told you that."

"Because I can taste it, that's how. I can also taste that you don't drink coffee. Now shut up and do as you're told." From that moment foreword she took total control of me . As I lay on my back, she mounted me slipping herself over my member. She worked herself up and down, placing her hands on my shoulders she pushed herself upright. When she let go her legs squeezed my hips almost to the point of pain, and then she collapsed onto me.

I had no question that she was in command, I'd already lost to her earlier in the evening when she had killed the rabbit. She spent the rest of the evening on top of me showing me how to please her, and then doing things to make me feel pleasure like I'd never felt it before. Every time I tried to do something on my own, she would clamp down with her thighs, and say, "Do as Mama says now, and be good."

She would use her hands to prepare me, then her mouth to stimulate me and finally she would mount me and bring me to the point of climax then stop suddenly and smile at me and say "Not just yet, I'm not ready for you to do that." She would lean in and kiss me slowly, and move her hips very slow again until we were both climaxing together. Of one thing I was certain, she was disciplined and controlled in her lovemaking. Another observation I made was that she had more stamina than I.

Later that evening, I lay there totally spent. I had nothing left. She sat up and lit a cigarette. I didn't know if it would be wise to comment, so I decided not to. 'If you stick around you'll get better." She told me. She started her humming again and every muscle in my body relaxed. I'm not certain at what point I fell asleep.

In the middle of the night I got up to take care of business, after all I did have a couple of beers. In the bathroom I noticed she had an oversized shower that could easily fit two, imagine how much fun that will be, and it even had a rope hand-hold hanging from the ceiling. When I returned to the bed I snuggled up to hug her. Her mouth was open and I smelled her breath again, this time I was able to place it. That primal warning in the back of my neck.

I was eight years old, and we had gone to one of those wild animal parks on a family vacation, there was a man in a booth there offering to take your picture with a tiger. Something had spooked the tiger and it leapt out at us, coming closest to me, as it snarled. I remembered the smell of its breath. That is what I smelled in her breath. Well, there was no question she was a tigress, and a man-eater at that. I leaned back and returned to slumber.

In the morning she was up, she was wearing black stretch pants and a white sweatshirt. She had a cup of coffee for herself, and had poured some pineapple juice for me. "Well, did you enjoy yourself last night?" she queried.

"It was like none I've ever experienced," I answered.

"Good," she said.

"Mike," she looked at me, "I've got to tell you something." Okay... here it comes; this is the last time... yada yada yada.

"Mike, you've got to promise me something," she said.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Mike, you must never come here to my home without a surrogate. Do you understand? Never, unless you have a surrogate," she said almost pleading.

"Yeah, " I said, "A surrogate, sure."

"No Mike, listen to me, this is important," she said. "It doesn't matter why you come, it doesn't matter if I ask you to come, or you just want to show up. If you don't have a surrogate just turn around and head back. Or call me, and we can meet someplace else. But don't ever forget this, don't come here without a surrogate."

"Alright, alright already, don't come here without a surrogate," I said.

I couldn't help thinking as I got into my car, how strange it had been. She invited me to dinner, and she was the only one to eat. Oh well, for nights like last night I could easily skip dinner, lunch and breakfast too. For nights like that I could even put up with her smoking. Given half a chance I'd like to see to it that she became Elizabeth James.

It wasn't until Tuesday that she called me again. "Mike, would you like to join me for dinner tonight?" she asked.

"I can't think of a better way to spend an evening," I said. "I'll be late getting off work, I have some catch up to do, but I'll be there"

Fantastic, I was going to have another evening with the MANEATER. If I got off early enough I might even be able to pick up another rabbit for her to put on her little show, or maybe I'd just grab some take out. Either way it shapes up to be an evening like no other.

{5,681 words}