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The Scavenger

Taboo
2003-09-18

The process has become disturbing and I don’t want to think about it anymore. I wish I had picked another topic but it was too late now. I arrived at the prison and was escorted to the warden before I was allowed to do the interview. I was expecting a hard-bitten redneck to threaten a bleeding-heart liberal like me. He greeted me with a smile and a handshake. He stated that he had always been a student of psychology and was interested in what I had learned from these guys. I told him, “Just looking for a common thread, some kind of event they have in common”. “Understanding is the first step”, the warden stated optimistically. Then he warned me about the inmate I was about to see, “He’s unstable and possibly dangerous”. As I was led into the room to meet the infamous Tommy, I was disappointed that he wasn’t in a plexiglass cell and wearing a Hannibal mask. There wasn’t even those tables with a partition where you talk through phones. There was just a couple chain link fences and a guard outside a glass door. I reminded myself that I had interviewed some of the others at their homes after they served their sentences and I should not be scared. “I’m so glad you agreed to talk to me”, I began and opened up my briefcase for the tape recorder. “What the fuck do you expect to get from me”, was his answer. I had already mailed him my intentions but felt that he would be more comfortable taking the lead.

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  Tommy was smaller than I expected. He probably weighed no more 140 pounds. He wouldn’t be considered as a good-looking man but he did look several years younger than his age and could have passed for a teenager in the right circumstances. I did notice the drooping eyelids that was an indicator of fetal alcohol syndrome but I doubt a layperson would have noticed. “You can start anywhere you want”, I told him and smiled insincerely. He wasn’t reluctant at all and proudly recounted his crimes from the beginning as though he had rehearsed. This was not what I came here for and was already familiar with his trial reports but allowed him to continue in hopes I could lead him further into his past. He told me how he hung out at a local pool and waited for the right little bitch, as he called her. He offered marijuana at first, but the third time he met her, he had cocaine to get her receptive and because it was addictive. The next time, he took her back to his trailer and got her stoned. She offered no resistance as he molested her. He took great pleasure in describing how he undressed her and how she screamed as he broke her cherry. He grinned as he told me about her jiggling little tits as he pounded into her and how he nearly broke her neck as he pushed her into the arm of the couch. Susan was only thirteen years old at the time. That disturbing feeling was returning.

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   I was disgusted but at the same time, I could feel my penis twitching to life. I reminded myself of her picture in my file. Susan was an attractive girl but her eyes seemed much older than her age. The police reports indicated that Susan returned many times over the next few weeks in return for drugs. “I had that little bitch wrapped around my finger”, Tommy boasted loudly, “She would do anything I asked. The best part was when I got her to bring me another little bitch”. Actually, Susan testified to that being her idea. She thought that he would stop that from molesting her but still keep her supply of cocaine. Lily was a year younger than Susan and was flattered to be invited to a party. I dreaded what Tommy was going to say next. “I didn’t waste any time on this one”, he continued, “I banged her as soon as I saw her”. In reality, it took a couple hours for the drugs to make her unconscious. “That’s when I knew what I was”, Tommy exclaimed as he stood up and gestured wildly, “I am a PREDATOR! That’s right and this is my fang”! Tommy pointed to his crotch. Tommy looked me straight in the eye waiting for a reaction. I bit my lip to keep from laughing and realized that this was my opportunity to steer the conversation.

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  “She reported you to the police”. I ledTommy sat down again and responded, “Damn bitch”, didn’t think she would do that”. “But not soon enough”, I said and regretted that I had gone the wrong direction. “Went hunting for new prey to feed “the fang”, he answered with a grin. I waited for more but Tommy remained quiet. I realized he was vulnerable and thought I could use it to my advantage. “The police found you unconscious and bleeding on the floor of you trailer”, I confronted him. Tommy jumped up and yelled, ”Fuckin bitch! What the fuck was I supposed to do! My fuckin pants around my fuckin ankles! Fuckin bitch bites me and I smash my head against the fuckin table”!Tommy’s third victim, or nearly his third victim, was a ten year old girl named Valerie whom he had snatched from a parking lot. Tommy made the mistake of forcing her to give him a blow-job. Valerie just didn’t bite him, she bit the head of his penis right off. She ran out the trailer screaming until one of Tommy’s trailer park neighbours stopped her and called the police. Apparently, the investigators did not find the part of his organ until it was too late to be stitched back on. From that point till the end of the hour I had to talk to him, Tommy sulked and I phrased my questions to get yes or no answers. I returned twice more and learned some things about Tommy’s pathetic childhood. There was not a single trauma that was the turning point of his life but a chain of them.

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   From my perspective, everyone in his life expected him to fail and trained him to fail. I would not say that he was disassociated from society because he was never associated. There were times that I thought he was born to fail. I tried to keep my own feelings in check but could not. The revulsion I felt for him as a person was only tempered by my sympathy and I regretted that as well. On the other hand, he will be a good addition to my thesis. I sat in my motel room, listening to the tapes, making notes and contemplating my interviews with the girls. I was nervous because I had not been trained or accustomed to dealing with children. Previous interviews with other young victims had not gone well. Professor Higgins suggested that it was necessary to include the children’s perspective. I felt that their perspective was beyond the scope of my study. The professor had said that cause and effect are interrelated and to understand one, I must understand the other. I had to hire a private detective to find Susan and arrange to meet her. Unfortunately, Lily’s parents decided against an interview at the advice of her own psychologist. Valerie’s parents were just as reticent but Valerie insisted on talking to me and I would doing so the next day.

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  I’m not sure if they were just being hospitable to me or they wanted Valerie to feel more comfortable but her parents invited me for dinner. This was the first family dinner that I had been to in years and it was very good but conversation was difficult. After dinner, we all sat in the living room and began the interview. I praised Valerie on her courage and mentioned that I, myself, had been scared when I met Tommy. Valerie recounted the episode without pause or guilt and was, by her description, more disturbed by the courtroom. As I expected, she didn’t bring any clarity about Tommy’s motivation. Valerie’s parents did mention some interesting observations about Tommy as they watched him during the trial. In my mind, I thought about Tommy having this little girl at his will and what he would have done. I mentally undressed her and tried to imagine her naked but I had no reference as to what a girl this age would look like. I remembered that she had been two years younger when the event took place. Looking back, this was the turning point where I no longer felt guilt for my feelings and merely indulged in them. The next day, I went to a downtown McDonald’s to see Susan. Susan had been living on the streets since the trial and had been supporting herself as a prostitute. I had studied her picture to recognize her and spent nearly an hour scanning the faces of girls. When she finally did arrive, she came right up to me as if she recognized me.

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  “You’re the shrink?”, she asked. “Wanna be”, I answered, “Susan?”I expected her to be wearing a halter top, a skirt that was too short and high heels. She wasn’t. She was wearing dirty jeans, a tee shirt and running shoes. Even beyond the dirt and the piercing, I could tell she was no ordinary high school kid. Her eyes were weary with the world. “This ain’t about me, right?”, Susan asked, “I mean you just wanna talk about Tommy, right”?“My report is about many rapists. Tommy is just one of them”, I started but wasn’t sure what she wanted to hear, “But I’ll be happy to listen to anything you want to tell me”. Susan looked puzzled, “Typical shrink”. She shrugged, “Good”. She looked up at the counter and asserted, “You’re buying”. I handed her a ten dollar bill and told her, “Go ahead”. She talked while she was eating, “Tommy wasn’t so bad. There are lots worse than him out here”. We continued talking even when she went outside to smoke.

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   As we walked, the conversation turned to my curiosity about her life and her work. Susan was hesitant to talk about her life so I told her about “cause and effect”. I asked if we could talk some more when she had to leave and she gave me the number of her cell phone. I was excited when I called her that evening. I had spent the day thinking about her and decided that it would be ridiculous to be coy about my intentions. I asked her to grab a taxi back to my motel because I didn’t want to get arrested for solicitation. I tried to avert my anticipation because I knew my erection couldn’t last. Susan arrived about an hour later wearing a light sundress. The sundress fluttered over her breasts and around her perfect ass. Overtly, I stared at her body and grinned. “I guess I’m not here to talk”, she said sarcastically. “So, how do we do this”, I asked. “Didn’t your daddy ever give you the talk”, she laughed. She lifted the sundress over her head slowly revealing her white panties and then her naked breasts. I was in awe.

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   Her breasts were big but they were so proud that they gave the illusion of being small at first. They didn’t hang down. They stood out as ideal handfuls. I went up to her and leaned in to kiss her but she put her hand in front of my mouth. She shook her head and guided my hand to her breast. I felt her hand on my pants and then she gently kneaded my crotch. Her other hand joined in to release my belt and zipper. She unbuttoned my shirt from the bottom to top and rubbed her breasts onto my bare chest. “Sit down on the bed”, she told me. Susan kneeled in front of me and tugged my pants and underwear down to my knees. She put her small hand around my penis and smiled at me as she softly massaged it. I jumped as she tugged it hard. It didn’t hurt, at least not badly. She lowered her head and I felt her cool wet lips on the head of my hard penis. She teased me first with her lips and then with her tongue.

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   A single lick and then pulling back, again and again until she dived in. She licked up from the base to the tip on one side, then the other, then from the bottom. She then wrapped her whole mouth around it and I felt the roof of her mouth on the tip of my penis. Her tongue worked twice as hard as her lips as her head bobbed on my lap. I began to quiver when she looked up. “Did you want to go all the way”, she asked. “I want to fuck you till you can’t walk straight”, I answered. She stood up and pulled down her panties. “Do you want to be on top or bottom? I’m not that good on top”. “In that case, I’ll be on top”, I joked and slid over on the bed. She posed and asked, “What do you think”?“Turn around”, I told her. “Oh, you’re an ass man”, she quipped and spun around. She wiggled her round little cheeks and then bent over with her legs straight together. Her pussy peeked out between the diamond shaped gap below the cheeks. Either she was not through puberty yet or she trimmed those pubes to a patch above lips.

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  “Beautiful, absolutely beautiful”, I told her, “Spread your legs”. She did and threw in some pelvic squeezes that made me want to jump up and stick it in her right there. Before I could move, she slid onto the bed beside me. I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to kiss every inch of her body. I grabbed her breast and tried to memorize how it felt so that I would never forget. I moved my hand down to her pussy lips and she spread her legs. I squeezed the lips between my fingers firmly and slid my middle finger into the folds. I felt for her clit my thumb and rubbed around it. I followed her lead and withdrew my hand, then stuck it back in and again. I watched her face as her eyes were closed. I really do think she was enjoying it and she smiled as I teased her. My wet hand offered evidence. Before this, I thought that this might be a dry, mechanical effort. My erection ached to be inside her.

 

   “Are you ready”, I asked. “Fuck me, doc”, she moaned. I rolled on top of her with my elbows supporting me. She wrapped her legs around my ass and grabbed my penis in her hand. She lifted herself up to me and inside of her. It had been so long that I almost forgot about the heat. As far as I could remember, this was the tightest fit I had ever known. It took some time till I slid all the way in. I started thrusting slowly and gently at first and Susan lifted back with me. With each push, I felt her squeeze around me. I started to pump faster and harder and Susan couldn’t keep up the pace. The bed was bouncing and Susan was moaning and talking obscenities. I lifted up on my hands to watch her firm tits bounce. I looked at her pubic mound filled by me. I pounded into her till her head was pushed against the headboard and I came.

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   Susan tightened her grip around me and her hips convulsed. I fell on top of her and she did not object as she felt my full weight. We breathed together until I realized that she was too small to support me. I rolled off to the side and lay there, reliving the experience. “Be right back”, Susan whispered. She got up and bent over to pick up her clothes. She looked back at me to see me admiring her ass and she smiled and wiggled it again. She walked into the bathroom. For a second, I thought about bringing her home with me and then remembered about her age and the trouble I could get into. I wondered if she really had an orgasm and allowed myself to feel proud that I had made a whore cum. When she came out of the bathroom, she was fully dressed, at least as dressed as she arrived. “I did it again. I forgot to mention the price”, she pleaded, “I hate doing that. It screws the mood”. “How much”, I asked and she was right about the mood“Two hundred”, she asked as much as told, “Including the taxi”.

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  I guess I was getting doctor’s rates but I didn’t object. I leaned over the bed, grabbed my wallet out of my pants and handed her two bills. “Can I give you a ride back”, I asked. “No, that’s alright. I’ll just call a taxi”, she said and picked up the phone. She dialled the number from memory. As she left, she turned around and told me, “You’re sweet”. Previous stories by shu:Reset: A New Beginning - posted mid August ‘03Neptune Rising - submitted late August ‘03.

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