tagLesbian SexThe Siren of New Orleans

The Siren of New Orleans



"Don't stop." She pleaded, the soft heels of her feet digging into Diana's back. "God, please don't!"

Diana didn't answer as her fingers played with the delicate heart between the woman's thighs. Soft, wet, that was all Diana needed. There was nothing that did the job better than sliding your fingers into that, she thought, feeling the warmth and watching the woman move under her.

The girl, a barista from the Café down the street from where Diana lived, wasn't all that different from Diana's usual fare. Her face was soft and round, cheeks and collarbone flushed a deep red that only served to highlight the paleness of her skin. The rest of her body could only be described as supple, everything full and ripe in just the right places, but thin and taut in all the rest. It was a stark contrast to Diana's form, which was toned, muscled, and an olive color that matched her dark hair.

Diana's hand glided up the barista's leg as the other hand continued to bask in her heat, still measuring the gentle folds and the hugging curves deeper inside.

"Oh yeah! OH YES!" The barista, Diana distantly guessed her name was something like Sabrina or Samantha, screamed and clenched, her thin fingers digging rapturously into the soft sheets of her bed. Diana watched maybe-Sabrina climax, watched her back arc into the air and felt a ripple of her own start to move. Her hand left the woman's leg and disappeared inside her own pants to finish it all.

When it was done, Diana was already moving around the room to pick up the few clothes she had tossed aside.

"You don't have to leave, you could stay. I don't mind." Sabrina, or Samantha, rubbed her head, still trying to piece her mind back together.

"Thanks, but my shift starts soon." Diana threw on her leather coat and laced up her boots. "I'll call you."

"Did I even give you my nu-" The door shut before she could finish her sentence, and Diana was jogging up the stairs to her own apartment. She didn't guess that Sam-brina knew they lived in the same building, but it probably wasn't going to be pretty when she found out.

It wasn't that Diana wanted to never call the girl back, or that she particularly reveled in the trail of broken hearts she left in her wake. It wasn't personal, it wasn't that she was trying to be a dick, but she just hadn't found the spark yet, the woman who could be the light at the end of her tunnel. Sabrina. Samantha. Whatever her name was, Diana thought, she just wasn't that light.

"Hey, finish up another late shift?" A door clicked shut and a tired looking brunette appeared on the landing where Diana's apartment sat. Her name was Rain, a real hippy name, but it fit her. Pretty big blue eyes and sandy blonde hair that, somehow, always looked like she had just gotten back from the beach.

"Yeah." Diana smiled at her, skipping up the last few steps before standing next to the woman. The difference in height between the two was almost staggering, but Diana liked it that way. "Studying Greek mythology at six am, huh?" She grinned and nodded at the books Rain was carrying.

"Yeah..." She rolled her eyes with a laugh. "I have a big exam coming up on Thursday, and I'd like to get all my studying done now before Halloween."

"Trick or treating?"

"Nah, just a big party, it's kind of a mandatory thing. Can't miss it."


"Alright. Be safe then, alright?" Diana tossed her keys out of her pocket and into the air before catching them without sparing even a glance.

"Yeah, sure thing. Officer." Rain laughed and waved goodbye.

Diana watched her head down the stairs before slinking into her apartment, the heavy sleeplessness in her eyes already creeping back up.


"You sure? I don't mind driving over." The radio crackled Jim's message along with the questionable sincerity in his voice. "I'm probably a half hour out though. Could check dispatch to see if anyone's closer."

"Don't worry about it." Diana spoke into her shoulder-radio, still leaning against her squad car as stomped her feet for a bit of warmth. "If there's a party going on over here, it sure as hell can't be as wild as dispatch said it was. Either that or the party ended a hundred years ago. Place looks deserted. Just wish it wasn't so fucking cold."

"Cold? You sick, Chief? Want to trade? The Quarter is a fucking nightmare, and its not even midnight yet. You would think these assholes would be too old for Halloween. Sheesh."

Diana looked down at the bulky black watch on her wrist, the faint glowing light of the digital numbers just barely visible enough to make out the time.


"I think I'm good. I'd rather risk a few meth heads than deal with that b.s."

"Well aren't you feeling charitable toni-" Jim's voice cut out as screams drowned him out. It was enough to make Diana's muscles tense and the all too familiar lump in her throat to resurface. A split second was all it took in her line of work, and no matter how brave or experienced you were, every time you heard that noise a little part of you jumped. The part of you that was always ready to hear the worst.

If you didn't jump, you were just fucking crazy.


"Trick or Treat, OFFICER!"

"Here, have a drink! Come on man! Just do a shot with us!"

"I'll show you my..."

"Ma'am, please take a step back. Cover yourself." Diana heard Jim's voice, calm and professional, and she breathed a sigh of relief. "I'll catch you later Chief. Good luck with your haunted mansion. Out"


Chief. It was a nickname everyone in the academy had given her after she graduated at the top of her class. They all said that she was going to be Chief of Police someday, that with how fast she could run, how hard she could punch, how tight she grouped her shots and deftly handled aggressive civilians, there was no doubt that one day she was going to be the head honcho around here. Diana had laughed it off at the time. All she wanted to do was be the fucking best there every fucking was. And that was good enough for her. Politics was an afterthought.

Diana brushed back a few stray bits of hair that had fallen from the tight bun of her hair, tucking them back into place as though it would somehow distract her from the oppressive silence that suddenly threatened to overwhelm her. Cities were weird like that, she thought. Most of the time there was always a low hum of something but at other times, if you were in just the right place at the right time, there was be nothing at all. It was all too fitting for Halloween Night.

"Fuck." Diana pushed her fingers through her hair before checking her duty belt and pulling out the heavy mag-lite. She clicked it on and scanned the impossibly big mansion again, the beam of white light casting more shadows than it seemed to dispel.

The gate to the mansion was open, the old brick walkway overgrown with weeds and grass. A few old marble statues stood guard inside, each in varying states of chipped decay. The entire property, despite being wedged between two sleek and new looking chrome office buildings, looked wholly neglected and abandoned. But that was New Orleans, Diana nodded quietly to herself as she marched up the front steps, not only was the impossible possible here, it became probable.

"Noise complaint my ass." Diana muttered as she tried to look through the dirt-stained window to no avail, seeing only the brown dirt smudges and the reflection of her flashlight. She tried the handle of the door expecting it to be locked, and when it opened and she heard music coming from inside, she blinked in surprise.

What the hell? She asked herself in disbelief before stepping inside.

It was Halloween in New Orleans, so insanity was somewhat expected. The solemn and abandoned exterior of the plantation house, however, had been utterly misleading as to what was taking place inside. A grand ballroom the size of anything Diana had ever seen towered in front of her, hundreds of elaborately masked men and women dancing to music that thumped as passionately as any jazz club in the French Quarter could muster on the best of days. Trumpets blared, the cello thrummed, and the long moan of the trombone led them all in an energetic beat. Everywhere the light gleamed off the mass of people, glittering like flecks of gold on the sea.

"The fuck?" Diana looked around in disbelief, unsure if what she was seeing was actually physically possible. The first thing to run through her head was the distinct possibility that she was hallucinating, and whether or not she needed to consider the possibility that she had a drinking problem. She hadn't heard anything when she was outside, and there was no way there was enough parking around here for all these people. Hell, she thought, there weren't even any fucking cars parked in the street!

Diana walked forward into the crowd, holstering her flashlight as she was absorbed into the atmosphere of the jazz masquerade. She admired the people, their beautiful tuxedos, dresses, and colorful feathered masks. She gawked at the massive crystal chandeliers that morphed the light of the room into rainbows when she looked at them from just the right angle, and couldn't help but feel small when she stood beneath the freshly painted Greco-Roman columns that towered up from the ballroom floor like old oak trees in the park. The entire place was bursting with more life than any party Diana had even been called to break up, and the heat made by the hundreds of people inside more than enough to ward off the chill city air outside. Anywhere else in the world a post-war era themed jazz party would have seemed out of place, perhaps even creepy, but in New Orleans it didn't seem that far off.

It wasn't until the first drunk party girl bumped into her and kept going that Diana realized that she was, in fact, not drunk or dreaming, and that there was no way in hell that this party had the proper permits and licenses. Hell, the fire marshal would fucking kill me if he saw this. How old is this place anyway? Whole thing could come down at any second.

"Good evening, Officer. Is there something I can help you with?" A woman, her face covered by a mask painted in greens and yellows, smiled at Diana. She was wearing a ballroom gown like all the other women in the room, a deep emerald color cut thinly to show off her lithe frame. The music, combined with the image of the enticingly clad woman, was just loud enough that it made it hard for Diana to think, but the woman's voice cut through the sound like a gentle breeze in the oppressively hot air.

"You in charge here, Miss?" Diana glanced around before fixing her gaze at the girl with the mas, her hands already firmly planted on her duty belt.

"Me? All this?" The girl laughed, her smile as bright as the delicate gold candelabras that lit the room. "No, Officer. I just look after the door... and dance a little. A bit of both."

"Alright..." Diana straightened her back and looked around again, her attention already turning back towards the dance floor. "Who's in charge then?"

"Oh." The girl's mouth framed a circle as the realization dawned over her. "You're not wearing a costume, are you? You're the real deal, huh?" Her hand, nails painted a bright green with little gems on the end to match her mask, brushed down the cop's arm. For a second, as Diana looked away from the girl and towards the crowd she couldn't help but think that it looked as though, out of the corner of her eye, the girl had disappeared. When Diana looked back, however, the woman was still there, clear as day.

"Ma'am, I'm going to ask you again to take me to whoever is in charge here unless you want this whole thing shut down." She reasserted, her jaw working slightly as she noticed for the first time just how little the girl's gown left to the imagination.

"Officer, I don't think th-"

"Now. Understand? I'm not going to ask nicely the next time." Diana stepped forward to look down at the girl, a hand already moving to rest on the handcuffs in her belt. The music was overbearingly loud, a deep husky voice singing a jazz tune that Diana had heard a thousand times before, but the silence between Diana and the girl was louder.

"Whatever you say, Officer." The woman smiled again, the bright red of her long hair highlighted by the crystal colors cast by the chandeliers as she entwined her fingers into the cop's hand and pulled. "Right this way."

"Miss, that really isn't necessary." Diana tried to pull her hand away from the girl but found that, despite the wishes of her mind, her body seemed to have other plans whenever she caught sight of just how much of the girl's lower back was exposed. This was the point where her P.O.S.T. training instructed her to immediately unhand the civilian, prepare to defend herself, and clearly assert that the civilian should refrain from touching her.

Well, none of that happened, and as Diana found herself being guided through the ocean of dancing people, she couldn't help but feel as though she had pulled the short straw when she'd been told that this particular noise complaint was her assignment.

"Miss—" She dodged a waiter carrying a massive tower of dazzling champagne glasses. The entire apparatus seemed completely unstable to her, she thought as the man swayed away. Whoever had organized an event this big had to be someone big, maybe one of the football players for the Saints, or a rapper, maybe even some celebrity from out of town. Jim had almost arrested Brittany Spears at a party once, and the whole thing did not turn out well for him.

"What's this person's name?" Diana tried again, shouting louder and putting her mouth closer to the red-haired woman's ear. Floral and something like lavender, she thought, though she couldn't quite place it. Dark and sweet, like moss in the fall.

The masked-girl's ear twitched as Diana whispered in her ear, and for a moment she bared her throat to the officer in a way that was as playful as it was suggestive.

"You don't already know?" She looked seductively at the officer, turning around to face Diana as she continued to walk, the green and gold of her eyes shining through the slotted holes of her mask under the light. "You're gonna love her. Everyone loves Ruby, real cop or not!"

Not once did the woman stop walking while her back was to the crown, her feet numbly guiding her through the mass without ever once turning around see where she going as everyone parted for her with seamless grace. The still nameless woman pulled Diana through a door on the far side of the ballroom, the inside darkly lit with crimson light. The music faded into a dull throb behind them, almost total darkness following at their heels. There were shapes everywhere, faint outlines of people still wearing their masks moving against one another. Occasionally a door would open somewhere and a splash of light would flash like lightning through the room, and the bare bodies of party-goers were illuminated against one another, some wearing masks while others were long lost. What little light there was played off the sweat of their bodies as they danced passionately upon one another, grinding and moving with inexorable slowness in ways that left little to the imagination. It was a hedonistic waltz, a ballet of desire that wove them all together like tapestries hanging upon a wall.

Definitely no permit.

Somewhere, Diana caught a glimpse of a woman she thought she knew, a face she couldn't quite place but seemed all too familiar to ignore. She slowed and resisted the woman's incessant tugging in an attempt to see again, and another flash of light revealed what she feared. It was her neighbor, Rain, the cute graduate student who lived next door. She was pressed into the arms of another girl, one who seemed impossibly tall, and her lips were locked on the girl's breast, a trickle of something leaking from the corner of her lips.

Immediately Diana froze, and the collar of her uniform seemed a great deal tighter than it was before.

But the fairy's hand tugged Diana onward, pulling her away towards a now distant red light that grew brighter as they came closer. It was a single red bulb above a doorway, and with every step closer the mystery of the dark room revealed itself.

"Here we are." She smiled, a hand on the door. "Good luck." She reached up on her toes, almost floating, as she planted a lingering kiss on the officer's cheek. "Nice to meet you."

The doors to the red room opened, and Diana stepped inside.

"Oh, already?" A voice chimed as the doors slammed shut. It was like vanilla, sweet but bitter to taste. "I wasn't expecting a woman. I don't think that's ever happened before."

The bright light of the ballroom gleamed through a large half-window in the wall, and a woman appeared in front of a small oaken bar on the far side of the room. Her hair was crimson, the same color of the split leg cocktail dress that dove dangerously low on her chest. The dress brushed against the floor as her heels clicked, her elbow leaning on the bar's edge. Her body was soft and curvy, her lips a bright red that begged your eyes to stare before they dipped lower. She was a throwback to another era, like she belonged in an old movie standing next to Marilyn Monroe or some other post-World War II starlet.

"M-Miss..." Diana stuttered, her wires utterly crossed as her brain attempted to determine whether or not to grin and engage, or stay professional and keep her job.

"Well, something I can help you with..." The corner of her lip pulled up in a half-smirk, her long wavy hair falling over her shoulder. "...Officer?"

"Ahem." Diana collected herself, "Are you Ms. Ruby? The person who is responsible for all of this?"

"That's me, and yes, I'm completely, totally, one-hundred percent, responsible, Officer." Ruby sauntered up to Diana, her long and shapely pale legs disappearing in and out of her high cut dress. "This is my house, after all."

"I'm sorry Ma'am, but either you're going to have to produce the appropriate permits, which I'm going to bet you don't have, or I'm going to have to shut all of this down." Diana squared her shoulders and planted her feet firmly. Professional, she thought, going to have to be fucking professional on this one. Knowing my luck this woman will turn out to be the fucking ambassador's wife or some shit. "And that's going to have to be now, ma'am."

"Oh... I'm sorry, Officer." Ruby ran her hands over her gown, framing her body with her fingers and a sly grin. "I know I have all the permits I need, but I think I might have left them in the drawer in the upstairs foyer. No pockets in this dress, you understand."

"Yeah, I thought so." Diana leaned over and spoke into her radio. "Dispatch, Officer Smith. 10-78 on 2143 Lee Boulevard."

The radio crackled when Diana pressed the button again, nothing but static on the other side.

"Dispatch? This is Officer Smith, do you copy?" Diana tried again to no avail.

"Look, officer, perhaps we can work something out, okay?" Ruby leaned forward, her chest almost in full view. "Trust me, I can make it worth your while."

There she was, the hottest woman that Diana had ever seen, offering to do God only knew what with her, and all Diana had to do was not report her. Just keep quiet. Risk her career, risk the health and safety of the hundreds of people in the place, orgy included, and throw away just about any shred of ethical professionalism she had. Ruin the name Chief.

"I get it." Ruby nodded, "Don't want to buy it before you see it?"

"Ma'am, I..."

"Come on." Ruby was already by the door, the music from the dance floor suddenly flooding the room. "Find me and you can choose. Arrest me, or enjoy."

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