The Female Predator

She was smokin' hot and every guy in the hotel bar knew it - including Bitter Man. Bitter Man watched her sexy ass and dreamed of her smooth, toned legs. He got all twisted up inside aching for her. All the boys were toys to her, she always got her way. The Female Predator. She cared not what went on in the men around her, that was their problem.


Bitter Man went to his room of anguish - bitter he had to once more visit it. He cursed God and all things in the universe. "Just once I wish I could hurt God like he hurts me! Make his goddam ass need a woman!" There was death and then there was this. Powerless and hopeless, he bent another time in the unbearable agony of his need. Boiling in the flames of hell, he seethed with rage at his very existence. What had Man done to be so cruelly crippled?

Glaring at the girl who checked him out of the hotel, Bitter Man fumed his way to the car. He understood the serial killers who attacked women. It was a futile attempt to get back at Life. He understood the barbarity of war was to mimic the barbarity of men's needs. There would be no peace till he was six feet under. Why did God hate him so?

Predator Woman rejoiced at the sound of the approaching car. She had swerved to avoid a wreck, run the car into a ditch, had her heel break off as she stepped out and slid to the edge of a small cliff where she now hung by the roots of a small bush. Little did she know her luck was about to get worse.

Bitter Man pulled over in curiousity - then he saw her. Excitement filled his nostrils as he recognized the perfume and golden head of hair. For the first time ever he had a sense of power over one of them. His instinct was to help, his bitterness declined. She always got what she wanted. He grinned a delicious grin.

"Not many people come down this road."

"I know. Pull me up already."

"I dunno. I'm kind of enjoying this."

"What are you? Some kind of sicko?? Help me up!"

Yes, he had her in torment at last. Bitter Man wished it could last forever. Predator Woman was shocked at male disobedience. Incredulous, she listened to his dissertation.

"You know, all those woman protesting Playboy have it all wrong. Playboy takes advantage of men, not women. It's like that everywhere: how we're supposed to feel so sorry for you and sacrifice ourselves for you. I've never seen a woman beg before. This is really quite interesting." He squatted to take a closer look.

"You want me to beg, I'll beg. OK?"

"Oh, begging won't help. It never has me. My dick hasn't felt a woman's leg in 25 years."

"Well, don't take it out on me! For God's sake that's not my fault. That's completely unfair!"

"Oh, yes, it's totally unfair needing someone." He still made no move.

"Well, so...are you going to help me or not??"

"No, I'm going to tell you what's going to happen. Your are going to hang on with all your might until you can resist no more. A feeling I know well. Then you will fall - not far enough to kill you - but enough to hurt you and perhaps cripple you for life. Another feeling I know well. And all the time this is going on one question will keep running over and over in your mind: Why? Why is this happening to me?"

Bitter Man could see the venom building in her eyes. He knew her response long before she spoke it for he had posed that question a thousand countless times already. Such a sweet victory and yet still no satisfaction. He was almost bored with her predictability.

"I know why this is happenening to me. It's because some asshole is too bitter to be a man and help a woman he can't fuck! Well, I hope you never have another woman the rest of your life!"

Bitter Man started walking back to his car. "You sound so bitter!" he laughed. That's when she started pleading. He knew it would come to this: hatred one minute, begging the next. How beautiful it was to hear all his inner torment played out by his tormenter. As one with a lifetime of such experiences, he went on to verbally manipulate her between rage and begging and bribery and despair. Finally, she broke.

"I can't solve your problems for you. Can't you understand that? You just have to help yourself. No one can do it for you. There's nothing more I can say."

"I feel your frustration. You see someone in a postion to help you and they do nothing. Of course, I could take your money and walk away laughing. I've certainly seen that done often enough. 'Stupid man. Silly man.' they would say. But this stupid man is too pathetic to help you." He started his car's engine. "Feel as you wish but nothing can change that." And then he drove off.

Waves of anger and tears oscillated within her to where she resigned herself to numbness. Looking up at the darkening sky, feeling her grip slipping and pondering a painful fate creeping upon her she wondered: why does God hate me so?