I know what you all think of me. I know that you're repulsed by what I've done. I don't give a damn about that. I don't care what any of you think.
I know that by now my story has been in every newspaper in the country and some halfway around the world. I can see the headlines now: 'Female Serial Killer Caught." Or maybe it reads "Young Girl Accused Of Multiple Murders." Whatever.
In another couple of weeks the questions will start. How could this have happened? What turned this girl into what she was? What was she? You people know the drill, we've seen it all before.
They tell me now that I'm not the first. They made a movie out of the life of the other one. What was her name...? The actress that played her won the Oscar or so they say. Personally I never heard of her until I got in here. Who cares?
Listen to me. My cellmate here says she knows somebody who can get this tape out of this place I'm in and post it on the Internet somewhere. Maybe they can or maybe no one will ever hear or read this. It's all the same to me. It's just the idea that maybe, just maybe some young woman somewhere, whose life is in the toilet like mine was, will find some inspiration in what I've done and continue in my path. Sort of like that Hannibal character in the movie. He had fans didn't he? Anyways here goes.
I won't bore you with any of that unhappy childhood crap or phony psychoanalysis shit. My childhood was unremarkable for the most part. I was lonely most of the time and my parents had no clue what to do with a precocious lonely girl. I didn't like most of the kids I went to school with and they seemed to feel the same toward me. School itself was boring and I passed through basically unnoticed by anyone.
I was a senior and had just turned eighteen years old and two events stand out to me. The first one was a fight between two girls in the school cafeteria. Two girls started arguing about something or other, probably some boy, and the next thing you know they were rolling around on the floor scratching and biting and clawing at each other. This happened just a few feet from where I was sitting so I had a perfect view of the whole thing.
Watching them I remember that the strangest thing happened. I felt my breathing quicken and I felt as if the blood had rushed to my head. A tingling feeling between my legs started and I had a desire to drop my hand down there and slip it inside of my panties. My god, was I getting sexually aroused?
The girls stopped rolling at the foot of my table with one girl on top of the other. She pinned the other girl firmly to the bottom with one hand and with the other hand she started slapping and punching the face of the other girl. She got maybe five or six punches in before some teachers rushed in and broke it up.
I remember how each punch or slap that girl landed raised my excitement level. It was as if it were I punching that girl. I heard myself whispering under my breath, "Hit her again, harder this time. Hurt that bitch."
Afterwards I couldn't explain to myself what had happened to me. I was no stranger to sexual arousal. Hell, I was eighteen years old and despite my loneliness had managed to find out what sex was all about, from a distance of course. But this feeling had been sooo intense compared to anything I had ever felt before. I didn't even know those two girls but they had awoken in me feelings of which I had previously been totally unaware.
The second event that stands out was that I began to be molested by one of my teachers. I needed an extra credit to graduate and so against all odds I joined the yearbook committee. If you stayed on all semester you got a credit for the work you did. I did typing chores and tried to avoid getting to know anyone too well, a task at which I excelled.
Toward the end of the semester there was a lot of typing to do so our yearbook advisor Miss Johnson suggested we both say late and she would help me catch up. After about five o'clock it seemed like we had the whole school to ourselves. Miss Johnson called me into her office and asked me to sit down next to her on the small loveseat opposite her desk.
After some small talk she told me that she was concerned about me because she had noticed how I seemed to have no friends and how she knew how hard high school could be for girls who were 'different'. Putting her arm around me she told me to relax and tell her if there was anything she could do to help me. Her hands began lightly caressing my hair and she began whispering to me to relax and let her help me.
Despite my misgivings I let her caress me and it was not long before her hands found my breasts and I felt her tongue lightly nibble my ear lobe. I tried halfheartedly to pull away but she pulled me back quite forcefully and instructed me to "Stay sweetie. I really need to help you." Her hand slipped under my skirt and pulled my legs apart. It traveled up my thigh as her tongue forced it's way into my mouth.
I was getting scared now and really tried to get up and away from her but she was too strong for me. Her hand slipped inside my panties and began rubbing my pussy while she tried to unbutton my blouse with her other hand. I fought her as much as I could but to make a long story short she had her way with me.
Afterwards as she lay with her head still between my legs slowly licking up the last of my juices, she looked up at me, smiled and said, "This will be our little secret won't it?" I guess I didn't answer fast enough for her because suddenly she arose and without warning slapped me flush across the face not once but twice.
As I fought back tears of anger she snarled at me, "Listen to me you mousy little bitch. You're going to say nothing to no one about his, understand? If you do I'll fix it so that you never get out of this school. I'll make your life a living hell unlike anything you've ever dreamed of. Understand me you little whore?"
Her words stung me but I saw she was holding all the cards and would do exactly what she said she would do. I felt a grudging admiration for her because I saw how she had maneuvered me into this position of vulnerability.
"All right, I won't say a word."
"That's my girl," she said with a smile. "Now I want you back here tomorrow again for more typing. In fact I think I may have a lot of work for you from now on. Plan your time accordingly."
And so began our little dance, as I called it. Three, sometimes four nights a week she would order me to stay late with her. As soon as we were alone she would take me into her office. Sometimes she would be quite gentle with me while other times she would simply throw me roughly unto her desk and begin sucking on my clit like there was no tomorrow. Sometimes she would force me to lie on my stomach while she spent ten or fifteen minutes licking out my ass and driving her tongue deep inside of it, all the time whispering to me how sweet my tender young ass tasted. No perversion was too much for her and she would make me do the same things to her
I came to take some pleasure from our encounters except for one thing. She had all the power and I was her slave and it was the opposite that I craved. I began to fantasize about walking into her office and ordering her to crawl across the floor and lick my shoes. I wanted her to have to sniff and lick my soiled panties and I wanted to hurt her in some way to get even with her. But this was not to be.