MAJOR WARNINGS IN THIS CHAPTER FOR DISTURBING SCENES. If offended please read no further.

Chapter 7

The curly haired cop opened his mouth to yell, but his lips and vocal chords refused to work and nothing but a breathy wheeze escaped him. His eyes however, followed the familiar figure as it bent down to look at him and Starsky was suddenly transported back in time.

'No, I can't…I can't….nooo'

'Ya got 24 hours to live pig. Count 'em. 24!'

He had that same sickening feeling of being out of control, at the mercy of someone else and he desperately tried to roll out of the way. His body responded sluggishly and he managed to get his legs out of the bed at the other side of the mattress. With a superhuman effort he hauled himself to his feet and stood for a moment swaying before vertigo finally stopped him and he sank to his knees with a low groan in his throat. Dropping onto all fours, Starsky tried to crawl away, finally making it to a corner of his bedroom where he sat, hunched with his back to the wall and panting as though he'd run a five mile race. His eyes stared ahead, but his vision wavered as though he was looking at things through a veil of water and he rubbed his hand over his face, desperately trying to focus on the man in the room. His fingers felt rubbery and cold against his skin – as though he'd led on them and lost the feeling and the brunet tried to cry out. A gurgle but nothing more forced it's way out and his eyes stretched wide in fright.

Shane Lewis appeared around the corner of the bed and looked at his target. He'd waited a long time to get even with the cop and now was his perfect opportunity. Having observed the mahogany haired man for some time, he knew that Starsky very rarely locked his front door and that when Hutch or his woman weren't around he'd usually be in bed by 10:30 or 11:00 at the latest. He hadn't been wasting his time while the cops had been trying to pin the rapes and murders on him. He'd spent a long time hovering around Ridgeway, snapping Starsky and also Hutch with his Olympus camera as they came and went. He loved their closeness, the frequent familiar gestures, the times when Hutch would pull his partner to him in a bear hug of an embrace, or Starsky would playfully reach up and ruffle Hutch's hair. All grist to his mill. And as he'd watched, his jealousy raged unchecked. He'd always liked dark hair. He'd picked his girls out because of the colour of the hair, but he'd never thought about men before – not in that way. Until he saw the cop with the thatch of sable curls, the handsome, rugged face and those slim hips and tight ass. And his temperature soared. Something different. He could take this man and the feelings he would get from subduing the powerful body would be unlike anything he'd experienced before.

Starsky made another strangled sound in his throat, panic rising in his chest as Lewis bore down on him until the tall man was standing right over him. Slowly he hunkered down next to the cop, cutting of Starsky's escape route effectively.

'Surprised to see me Detective Starsky? Or can I call you Dave? Seeing that we're gonna get to know each other a whole lot better, I like first names don't you? Huh? Speak up!'

Shane laughed as he saw Starsky's throat bobbing and his lips trying to form words. 'C catch ya….fucker' the cop managed to whisper although his voice sounded alien, even to his own ears.

'Oh I don't think so. And even if you did, the mighty Joe Newman will get me off again. After all, if you're dead, you can't ID me, can ya? And how many other guys have you pissed off enough for 'em to want to kill ya? Too many, I bet. Too many for 'em to sift out who's done it an' who aint. With that temper of yours you're kinda notorious. How's it feel to make a name for yourself huh?'

Shane stood up and took a hold of Starsky's arms, lifting the cop to his feet and half carrying, half dragging him back to the bed. Starsky dug his heels into his carpet and tried to hit out with his arm, but although he managed to move it, there was no power in the blow and Shane deflected it easily. He dumped the brunet onto the bed and Starsky fell back, so that he was on his back, his arms flung wide as he stared up at Lewis above him. Indigo blue eyes widened in horror as he watched the flake take a pre-loaded syringe from his pocket. He knelt on the cop's outstretched left arm and with one hand tight around Starsky's bicep, he pulled the plastic sheath from the needle with his teeth and spat it away. Dramatically expelling the air from the needle, Shane pushed the metal into an obliging vein and stood up to wait.

Starsky felt as though molten metal was flowing through his veins. The pain was so intense he thought he'd pass out there and then. But even worse than the pain was the horrible feeling of total paralysis that came in its wake. Inexorably, first his arms and then his legs, head, neck all started to feel heavy and as though they didn't belong to him. He moaned, the sound coming weak and thready from his lips as Shane smiled down at him.

'Feels odd don't it? Feels like you're never gonna move again? Well maybe ya won't. Maybe this is retribution for houndin' me and spoilin' my fun. No-one would've ever pinned that shit on me if you and your pretty pretty partner hadn't come along. So, maybe when I'm finished with you I'll go see what some blond ass is like huh? Huh cop? Wanna see what he's got in store for him?'

Shane took hold of Starsky's hair, a fistful in each hand and raised his head, the indigo eyes never leaving his face. Lewis had wanted to see fear in those eyes; the same fear that he'd seen in the eyes of the girls; the same fear that drove him on time after time. He'd found the drug – a derivative of those used in lethal injections by some states. It worked quickly and effectively and it's only disadvantage was that it usually paralysed their vocal chords too so that they couldn't scream. And he missed that. He missed having their voices pleading in his ears. But beggars couldn't be choosers, so he worked with what he had at his disposal. Now, however, as he looked into Starsky's eyes, he saw not fear, but rage and defiance. The cop wasn't scared of him! Starsky was angry, but showed no fear!

Rage ran through Lewis' veins and he tugged Starsky's hair, lifting the man's head and smashing it down onto the headboard at the top of the bed, in a parody of the time the detective had smashed Shane's head into the floor that day. Starsky's breath whistled through his teeth and a low groan escaped his useless lips, but it was enough to fuel Shane's bloodlust further.

Seeing the satisfying smear of blood down the headboard, Lewis took hold of Starsky's limp right arm and with incredible speed, flipped the smaller man over until he was lying on his belly. The brunet felt vulnerable this way up but try as he might he couldn't get his useless muscles to obey him enough to right himself. The panic however, threatened to overwhelm him as he felt Shane's hands on his back, stroking down the ridge of his spine and massaging his shoulders and sides, the flakes fingers digging into his tense muscles and kneading at them harshly. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the invasion, but slowly and surely the hands were working lower and lower so that now he could feel them at the elastic waistband of his pyjama pants.

He tried to shout out NO and to kick out as he felt the material lowered so that the pants worked down first round his hips and then came off completely as Shane threw them to one side and took his first look at the naked body spread out in front of him.

Starsky's olive toned skin was slightly lighter where his butt was habitually covered by his jeans or swim suit. It was almost like an arrow pointing down to that tempting crack and the delights it concealed. Shane ran his fingers down the crack now, noticing with glee that despite the drug in his victim's system the skin could still quiver with indignation at the touch.

Inside Starsky's head he screamed time and again. Screamed for Hutch to come get him. Screamed for Huggy to ring and interrupt. Screamed for Molly to come back and save him. The hands moved on and he could feel them now, parting his cheeks as Shane took a first good look at his target. And despite every titanic effort that the brunet made, he was unable to move a millimetre as he felt the first finger invade his core.

Shane sighed deeply as he drilled into his victim. This was so unlike his experiences with the girls. Then they'd been outside, or in his car and he'd been scared someone would come and stop him. This was different. This time he could take his time, secure in the knowledge that no-one was due to the house for several hours and at the end of the night, he could kill the cop and make his getaway before his partner came for him at precisely 8:00am. That was the good thing about the blond. He was always so punctual!

Replacing one finger with two, he felt a slight answering quiver from the brunet's muscles as they responded to the unfamiliar invasion. He took out his knife with his other hand and bared the blade. He needed to see blood. Blood made him stronger. The girls had all bled for him. Now it was the cop's turn. There wasn't enough blood from the cut in those curls. He needed more.

Starsky felt a movement behind him, then more fingers being pressed into his body, pushing and widening his opening and then another hot pain that started at his shoulder and made its way down his back, followed by another and another. At first he couldn't place it, until he felt a warm wetness and Shane's tongue on his bare back. A silver blade dropped into sight by his face. Oh my God! The sucker had cut him and was licking his blood! The salty saliva made the wounds sting and another groan was ripped from him, spurring his attacker on.

The sound from his victim and the sight of the blood welling up from the five cuts he'd made on the full length of that wonderfully muscular back drove Shane into a frenzy. Quickly he stood and unzipped his jeans and then knelt on the bed over Starsky's inert body. He pulled the brunet up bodily and jammed pillows under his hips and then, with his target clearly in sight, he parted the butt cheeks with one hand and dipped his own body down, savagely entered the tight tunnel, groaning himself as he felt the ring of muscles at the brunet's entrance cracking with the strain. The heated flesh finally parted for him and the deliciously warm membranes wrapped him in a sheath of pure pleasure.

Inflamed now by the body beneath him and his power over it, he withdrew slowly then picked up his speed until he slammed into the brunet again and again, feeling the wonderful tightness unlike anything he'd felt with the girls. He could even handle not seeing the fright in his victim's eyes. This was it. This was what he'd been longing for. Control over the cop that had stopped his fun. And the more he thought about that, the more he drove himself into the sweat soaked body with the power of a freight train.

Beneath him, Starsky thought he'd never felt anything so painful in his life. It felt as though an enormous red hot skewer was being forced up inside him and coupled with the horror of the situation, his mind went into overload. In his head, he continued to scream for someone to come; for this to stop; for him to wake up from this nightmare. And them he felt Shane climax and molten fluid filled his guts so that he wanted to vomit there and then.

Shane's body shuddered above him and he heard a guttural cry of release before the weight on his back shifted and Lewis' body collapsed beside him on the bed, a sheen of sweat on his face and a smile stretching his lips. He heard his attacker's breath slow and then he felt hands carding through his hair as Shane leaned forward and whispered into his ear.

'Did anyone ever tell you you're a great fuck? We're gonna have to do that again before morning'.