Thread: Killers Affair —  [LackingInHeart & Death by orgasm]

As Ms. Grant got comfortable in her chair, she addressed Max after she had broken the silence. She was seemed very disconnected form the entire thing, her gaze was not on Max, nor anywhere in the room staring off into the distance she rambled around what she was trying to get out. She rambled about the colors over the atmosphere and the details of how she got herself here. The Director was a family friend of her father's. Her past tense use of her father either meant they were no longer on good terms, or her father had passed away. He assumed the last one considering that she was here with such privileged having as many takes at the inmate that she wanted. Her rambles took twists and turns, she persisted that he hadn't committed the crimes that he was accused of. But then in either a change or heart, or just purely to humor him, she have him the benefit of the doubt that he actually had done his crime in malicious intent. After that her words trailed off, she got the simplified version of her bumbling speech, Tell me what you did, it doesn't matter, you're walking out free in months. He assumed that she didn't really care whether or not what lead to his crimes, but she needed something obviously. Maximillian had his reserves about why she was here still. Realizing that it didn't matter why she was here, just as it didn't matter to him if he did his crimes out of passion or just of accident. Her last words while they seemed to be more meaningful, she still stared off into the distance. A thin, smug smile painted across her lips as she told him to humor her. Max realized that he honestly had nothing to lose by being helpful, yet he wanted her to acknowledge that he just wasn't 'some kid' who made a string of terrible decisions to land him in prison. He deserved to be here in a society built on Justice, but knowing that Justice usually isn't the fairest of mistresses. Staring her down, looking into her eyes, while she stared off, he prompted her, I'll make it worth your while as long as you make it worth mine. You should take some notes I'm assuming...hate for you to leave empty handed. Looking down at her legal pad of yellow tinted paper, he remembered that he wanted that pad and pen far more than she did. Leaning back into his chair, he tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. I guess I would begin back in high school. Your assumption that I'm just a frat-boy who took advantage of girls is correct...at least during those times. Tilting his head forward enough to look at Ms. Grant, he examined her smooth skin, tight features, and her youth yet he knew there was something deeper than just her looks. She had other reasons to being here, she was very too relaxed and disconnected from this process if it was something that her thesis work was being attached too. He just couldn't put his finger on it. I had a girlfriend since I was 13, until I was 16. Not one gal, but I managed to always keep someone around. We had sex regularly, like good teens. The last girlfriend of those three-years-time had dumped me, and I just couldn't pull a girlfriend the rest of high school. I flirted a lot, hooked up, but nothing stuck. Sucking on his teeth he pondering his next words, My school there was a lot of partying and under aged drinking. After about a dozen of these parties, the boys started to figure out who the more slutty girls were. I didn't want them, I wanted the good girls to give it up. Looking up at Ms. Grant he tried to see if he had her attention yet, So I'd talk them up, we'd make-out but they weren't into much more than that. I got them drunker, hoping for more ideal outcomes...nothing. I started offering girls rides home who were too drunk, I'd pull off a dark side road, and have my way with them. Forcing it obviously. Savoring the thoughts of his humbled beginnings he inhaled and exhaled slowly, That was that frat-boy shit. I just wanted pussy, if I needed to force it so be it. If they gave it up, I would have been just as happy. Looking up, he was clear that now had Ms. Grants attention, but whether or not she was buying his story was a different matter all together. Tracing shapes on the stainless steel table, he drew a few circles and pentagrams before continuing on, I sexually assaulted about a dozen girls in high school. Maybe ten if I'm being honestly. But I'm fairly certain double digits. Towards the end of those assault I was getting turned on by the force, not the sex anymore. Which I admit I found very disturbing. But I graduated without any issues, I would use rubbers, I wasn't trying to leave hard evidence or pregnancies. But I didn't take some virginities that way. A sinister grin came over his face as he thought of the few girls who had he abused in such a mean way. Coming into college, I had a few girlfriends my freshman year, but the sex wasn't doing for me. My first girlfriend was smoking hot, I fucked her hard without any issue. The next two, my performance in bed was lacking, I wasn't really interested. Looking up at the notepad, he ignored it and kept on with his story. I was afraid of what my lack of sexual interest with my latter girlfriend would mean. I tried to hook up with other girls, but again no one I could really hold an erection with sadly. Max's attention was now fully on Ms. Grant staring at her as he continued on, After a while of trying not to have sex, I came to the conclusion that I needed the aggression in the act for me to maintain my attention. So I started going to parties, and getting girls to hook up with. Most would have been happy to fuck me, at least in my opinion. I was trying to get handsy with them at the parties, but they didn't like that. Pausing again how to express his rapes without too much detail, Same idea, drive them home, or get them to come back to my place. Either their place or my place I would force myself on them. Not like we're making out on my bed, and I'm undressing her. Much more as soon as we got into the door, I'd start to undress them. Some of the girls were into that, but tried to brush it off. But I wanted to...I wanted to dominant them. After those first twothree rapes in college, I knew that was what I was hooked on...the force, the dominance...they're helplessness, his words had weight to them as if admitting it to himself was still an issue, at least to a complete stranger who would be using his words as potential evidence to her ideas. Looking around for a glass of water that wasn't there, he needed a drink. He could feel his nerves and anxiety racing as he shared his more intimate and secretive things with this woman. After the words all left his mouth he was aware about the seriousness of the situation that he was explaining. Taking many deep breaths, he tried to calm his nerves, and his mind. They raced with the dozens of women's faces who he had attacked over the last decade. Inhaling and exhaling again, he commented, All and all, about two to three dozen woman I've assaulted and or raped over the years. Maybe about a solid handful of them every spoke up. The last girl who went to the police was the one who got me in court. When they got me in court, all five women who had pressed charges had been present in my trial as witnesses. Hence the three counts of violent rape, and the sexual assaults. Taping his fingers on the table he continued, Somehow after I was convicted, other girls started coming forward making claims of assault. The time from the alleged assault was so long ago, it was impossible to prove yet they keeping tacking them on my record--so when the Director told you a dozen. They're all true, and accounted for by me. But a lack of evidence they just sit on my record, no additional time, but I've been labeled as a sexual predator. Max now mirrored Ms. Grant's original demeanor, he stared distantly into the table, with the notepad visible only out of the corner of his eye. His legs shook to keep him occupied as the silence filled the room yet again.