Page 87 of Brainwashed
“I hope you know I’m going to wreck you, Felix,” he murmured from down there, giving my cock a few slow kisses and sucks. “Don’t get used to this pampering I’m giving you now. Once I get you wet enough, you’ll have my dick so deep in you, you’ll feel it for weeks.”
I bit my lip to keep a straight face, nodding along with his aggressively dominant words. “Can’t wait, Mr. Kline. I appreciate you sucking me like this first.”
“Well, you have a purely perfect cock.”
He began sucking away while I casually reached for a plastic trash bag on the counter.
“I can’t wait for you to fuck me,” I mumbled to him, and he groaned on my dick. “I want you to make it hurt. Like I know you hurt Cameron.”
His eyelashes fluttered, and he peered up at me. The expression in them was curious, as if he thought maybe this was some kind of sex game.
“If I cry and tell you to stop, will that make you fuck me harder?” My tone was low, only mildly accusatory, but mostly just sinister.
Mr. Kline still had my dick in his mouth as he gazed up at me.
“You stole him from me,” I whispered. And then he popped off.
“What…?”
“Heleft mebecause you’re a sick, disgusting pervert,” I said, clutching the plastic in my hand. “If he hadn’t gone, maybe I wouldn’t have become what I am.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He looked like he was about to stand.
So I said, “But unfortunately for you, things happened exactly how they were meant to. This was fate, Mr. Kline. I’m doing this forhim. So say goodnight.”
And then I swept the plastic bag over his head.
Morality is an interesting concept.
Some people fancy themselves ivory white as far as morals go. They wake up every morning, strap on their do-gooder cape and waltz around with that compass pointing in only one direction.
And then there are those who dabble more in the darker side of things.
But the part that’s always intrigued me is how willing people are to stick to their principles, regardless of which side they’re on. Most of us know inside how we feel about right and wrong, opinions that are usually formed early on, often guided or influenced by those around us. And we follow those internal guidelines to a T.
I’ve always found myself to be somewhere in the gray, and I like it that way. I pride myself on being a very open-minded person—doctors of the mind should be that way. Willing to see all sides of things; consider all the angles before making an educated decision on how I feel. And even then, my mind is never fully made up.
There should always be some wiggle room.
I think that’s what brought me to where I am right now. Sitting in my office in Alabaster Penitentiary, staring at a freshly showered Felix Darcey as he regales me with the story of how he used my keys to kill a fellow inmate, and set another free.
I still can’t tell if I should feel guilty or not…
I’ll be the first to admit I gave little thought to the potential repercussions of this experiment. But honestly, I think that’s why it was such a good idea.
Manuel Blanco brought me here to study The Carver; to get deep inside his head and learn everything possible about his actions and who he is, no holds barred. Even if he ends up upset about losing two inmates in the span of an afternoon, which he very well could be, I’ll need to stand my ground in my methods.
Handing Felix the keys was immensely beneficial to me. To my research. It gave me a front-row seat to exactly how he reacts when offered certain choices. He kills one prisoner, but lets the other go free…
And then he stays in prison himself?!
I mean, come on.Those results—in a fewhours, no less—are a million times more fascinating than what that asshole Johansson has come up with in weeks of his brainwashing techniques.
The only thing better than this would have been to watch him firsthand. I’ll definitely be checking the recorded feed later. I’m almost itching to do so.
But I have more important things to tend to right now.
“Here.” I yank open a desk drawer and take out a packet of peanut butter Ritz Bits, tossing them at Felix. They hit him in the arm and fall onto the floor, where he stares at them. “Eat.”
