Jean and the Box Cutter Murders
Content Warning:
The following chapter is part of a novel-length murder mystery with graphic violence and gratuitous non-consensual sex. Since I am writing for Literotica, the story contains more sex than mystery.
Sensitive readers should look elsewhere for entertainment.
This story took place in 1977. There were no cell phones, no internet and computers were scarce.
*****
Chapter 2: The Sting
I was exhausted when I got to my contract law class the next morning and had a harder time than normal staying awake. The only good part was that I didn't get called on. It was a small class, and the only explanation for being ignored was that the professor was tired of my repeated failures to answer even the simplest questions.
Despite the massive dose of coffee, I had consumed before class, I found it impossible to pay attention. I was still sore from my encounter with Jamel and Youssef the night before. I was conflicted when I recalled the events in the washroom. I had been firm when I told Jamel I didn't want to have sex with him, but after the initial pain of being penetrated by his big black cock, I had responded with one orgasm after another. I still couldn't believe he had fucked me for over an hour on top of the rumbling clothes dryer. The multiple orgasms had transported me into a state of mindless bliss.
As I recalled last night's unrelenting ecstasy, I became aroused and fidgeted in my seat at the conference table. A psychiatrist at Cornell had diagnosed me with hypersexuality as manifested by my compulsive masturbation and sexual behavior. I was horrified when he said the old terminology was nymphomania. He went on to warn me I could easily lose self-control during sexual encounters and suffer physical harm. I shuddered as I recalled his warning and the assault by Youssef. The orgasm I had as he choked me out was the most intensely mind-blowing experience in my life. I redoubled my resolve to avoid the brothers. I had no desire to end up as their sex slave even if the notion made an erotic masturbation fantasy.
My shrink had suggested I find a safe partner and limit my sexual activity to one person. Steve was the partner I had chosen, and I had been content with our sex life once I taught him a variety of techniques to satisfy me. Unfortunately, my boyfriend was in California, and I had no safe outlets for my overwhelming needs.
I prayed Steve never learned of my dark side. As far as he knew, I had only had a handful of sex partners beginning with my senior prom date. He claimed to be open-minded about sex, but I worried that deep down he might be like every other man and demand a wife that was a blushing virgin. In the middle of the sexual revolution, it didn't seem fair that men still didn't allow women to relish sex in the same way men had always done. I had reasons to be concerned. Our last few summers together had been filled with intense sex, and he had begun to tease me about being his 'little nymphomaniac.' My response to Jamel and Youssef frightened me. Everything my shrink had warned me about had come true. I wondered if I should encourage Steve to be more domineering to protect me from exploring my sub missive urges.
After class, I had a quick lunch from one of the few food trucks open during the summer. I hesitated before heading to my afternoon appointment with my criminal law professor. I hadn't learned anything of value from talking with David's cousins at the rent party. All I had to show for it was my disturbing memory of rough sex and bite marks on my tits.
Michael was meeting with his other summer intern in his law school office. I had to wait for Rachel to leave. As usual, his meeting with her ran over. From what I could overhear from the hallway, she was making excellent progress on another case. Finally, Rachel walked out of his office smiling. Just to make me feel worse, Michael was laughing at some private joke they shared. I walked in, and Michael scowled as he waved me to a hard wooden chair.
"Well?"
"I managed to talk with Jamel, but he didn't say much. He said he left work late the night of the murder. He met up with Youssef and David and the three of them hung out for a couple of hours until they ditched his idiot cousin. The next morning, he was surprised to find out that David had been arrested for murder. I asked where they went after they left David, but he refused to say anything more. I'm sorry. It was a big waste of time."
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Jean. That is a useful bit of information. It wasn't in any of the police reports. It may help us track David. Few people forget Jamel and Youssef when they see them, but David is so bland no one remembers him."
I didn't want to discuss the impression Jamel had made on me. Certainly, Michael was right about Jamel and Youssef being unforgettable.
I said, "I think David is protecting his cousins. Maybe I should interview him next."
"Jean, you will need to interview David eventually, but we need to know a lot more before we confront him."
"I made some suggestions in my workup for the case. I'd like to review the evidence with the coroner's office. I want to talk to the woman that actually raised David. I can't believe the police didn't interview any of the prostitutes working the corner with the victim. Hell, they didn't even interview the victim's roommate."
Michael said, "I sent Rachel out to talk to the victim's roommate last week. She found out that Marian is from the same village in Moldova as the victim. They also had the same pimp. That was all Marian would say. Rachel said the young woman was agitated, but she thought her refusal to talk more might just be because Rachel was dressed professionally. As an illegal immigrant, Marian has reason to be afraid of the police. She said that Marian appeared to be very talkative with her co-workers."
"Maybe I could try to talk to her. I have no problem going casual."
Michael rolled his eyes at my khaki shorts and Bruce Springsteen tee shirt.
"Jean, you will only get one shot. Marian is from a different world. She is comfortable with prostitutes and pimps. I doubt she will give you the time of day."
"What if I dress up as a prostitute? You saw the outfit I wore to the rent party."
"Yeah, I saw the outfit, but the problem goes beyond clothes. Marian feels comfortable around people she knows. I doubt you want to hang around on a street corner dressed like a prostitute until Marian learns to trust you."
Maybe I had seen too many movies. I was thinking of Paul Newman and Robert Redford in 'The Sting' when I said, "We could set up a sting where I'm a prostitute, and the two of us get into some kind of jam. I think a little drama would help to break the ice."
"Jean, that is probably the craziest idea I have heard in all my years as a criminal lawyer. What is really insane is that I'm even considering it. Let me think about it overnight. Maybe I'll talk to our friend Samuel. Besides being a drug dealer and a good dancer, Samuel is a small time pimp."
"Is that why when you introduce me, he asked you if I was free?"
