Mike versus Michelle
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Sociopath Versus Psychopath free porn video
My name is Jefferson Anders. I’m a Sex Therapist living in the Washington D.C. Area. Anyone looking at me would see a tall, good-looking black man in his early forties. I’m a graduate of the Mount Washington Institute of Technology. Ah, my college days were fun. For years, I operated in the Boston area, in the state of Massachusetts, but I just had to come back to Washington. Boston was boring. The city totally sucked. Too many pseudo-intellectuals. Not enough real people. Few real challenges. I was suffocating. After all, it’s where the power is in America. Anyone who disagrees is a bold-faced liar. End of story. It’s my hometown. To me, it’s like no other place on Earth.
When I went there, Mount Washington Institute of Technology was a rather small private school. Only six thousand students. Barely enough for a solid undergrad program. They added graduate studies the year I enrolled as an undergrad, after a thirty percent increase in the student body. Isn’t that nice? The school underwent a period of expansion while I went there, especially in the sports programs. The Mount Washington Institute of Technology Department of Athletics sponsors Men’s Intercollegiate Baseball, Basketball, Cross Country, Soccer, Lacrosse, Rowing, Swimming, Football, Wrestling, Volleyball, Golf, Tennis, Water Polo, Gymnastics and Rifle. For female student-athletes, they had Women’s Intercollegiate Softball, Basketball, Cross Country, Soccer, Rowing, Swimming, Rugby, Lacrosse, Field Hockey, Volleyball, Golf, Tennis, Water Polo, Gymnastics and Rifle. Our sports teams compete in the National Collegiate Athletic Association’s Division One. They’re collectively known as the Mount Washington Tech Screaming Hawks and Screaming Lady Hawks.
Mount Washington Institute of Technology was a party school. I had tons of fun there. I graduated in 1997 at the age of twenty six with a Ph. D in Psychology. I’ve been practicing therapy ever since. Human beings fascinate me. I love to play with their minds and see what makes them tick. I’ve got a secret to confess. I’ve got absolutely no conscience whatsoever. I’m what you would call a sociopath. But don’t tell anyone. It’s going to be our little secret. Watch me at work. It’s going to be fun. Most people don’t realize that sociopaths walk among them. They think everybody’s nice and easygoing and that evil people live in some faraway land and can never get to them. Wake up, people! Sociopaths are everywhere. And I’m the worst one!
My first victim, er, patient, when I returned to D.C. was Kendra Masterson. A tall, blonde-haired, green-eyed, good-looking young woman who also happened to be a member of the Mount Washington Institute of Technology’s Sociology Department. She was an adjunct faculty member. Kendra Masterson was a gorgeous gal with more insecurities than there are germs on this planet. She was a complete mess. I was going to have some fun with her. Kendra had recently been left by her boyfriend Ramon Bantacosta, a tall and sexy Latino stud who played Football for Mount Washington Tech. He ditched her for her best friend Leigh Brown, a bodacious, big-booty black chick who attended Washington State University. Ramon claimed that he was dropping her like a bad habit because she wasn’t sexually adventurous enough and didn’t have the penchant for anal sex that Leigh apparently had. So, the white chick got kicked to the curb.
Now, Kendra was feeling really insecure. She didn’t think any man would want her. Also, she was very insecure about both her body and her sexuality. She was so frail. Or at least she appeared that way. That’s how she got men. She had them convinced that she was this frail little thing. She was actually a great big slut with a voracious sexual appetite and a talent for manipulation and deception. She came to my practice mostly because she was bored and like all people with a psychologically based sexual dilemma, she craved attention. It’s a good thing that I’m more than adequate to deal with the likes of her. Ordinary men don’t know how to deal with psycho women. The female psychopath is the deadliest creature on the planet. She’s ruthless. She’s remorseless. She’s manipulative. And she’s definitely not to be trifled with. Of course, ordinary men can’t handle the female psychopath. First of all, they’re not too bright. They cannot control their sexual impulses and the female psychopath manipulates them using sex. Oh, and they have something called a conscience. The ability to feel guilt. It’s something I’m not burdened by. I can do anything at all without feeling guilty. That’s my secret. It’s my advantage. It’s my super power. And I use it all the damn time. Most people never suspect me. Until it’s too late. Isn’t that cool?
Anyhow, I was handling Kendra in my therapy. She told me about men and women she seduced, then discarded like used up napkins. This is how she saw most people. She told me the truth about how her last relationship really ended. Ramon left her because she was a psycho bitch and took up with Leigh, the woman who helped him escape Kendra’s evil clutches. Kendra laughed when she told me this. I could tell that she wanted to shock me. Unfortunately for her, I could not be shocked. I spend my days finding ways to destroy the lives of others. It’s what makes me happy. It’s the only thing that makes me happy. I find many creative ways to do it too. A psychopath would have to try really hard before he or she could shock me. The thing about psychopaths is that they’re a weak bunch. Sociopaths are stronger. Much stronger.
In the long run, psychopaths are the weakest of us amoral super freaks. A psychopath will storm a bank with a loaded gun and do so out of sheer bravado and lack of caring for consequences. They don’t last long. The cops usually take psychopaths down. They’re the madmen and madwomen capable of flying a helicopter into a mountain to prove a point. They attach themselves to certain causes. Or they stalk people and kill them for fun. Sociopaths are different. We don’t believe in anything. We don’t feel emotions. We see right through ordinary humans, the weakest beings in the universe, and the slightly stronger psychopaths, who are also vulnerable to our powers. We talk the talk. We walk the walk. And we’re always looking out for number one. Psychopaths and ordinary humans sometimes commit suicide. You will never catch a sociopath committing suicide. We’re incapable of that. Our sense of self-preservation is akin to that of a snake. Ever heard of a suicidal snake? I didn’t think so.
So, I got inside Kendra’s head. Session by session, I broke her down. Like all psychopaths, she was weak. Psychopaths are made. A traumatic event turns them into what they are. So, in a way, they’re Half-Breeds. Half like us sociopaths, and half like the ordinary humans. They can commit destructive acts remorselessly, but they feel emotions, though not as intensely as the ordinary humans. We don’t feel emotions. At all. We’re just really, really good at faking all of them. Psychopaths and ordinary humans fall for our act all the time. That’s why we’re the dominant force on the planet. Even though ordinary humans and psychopaths outnumber us.
Kendra was far less tough than she seemed. Like I said, all psychopaths are weak. Kendra was abused by her mother. She grew up hating both men and women. This bisexual female misanthrope blazed a path of destruction through many lives. And now, I was going to stop her. Not out of concern for humanity but for sport. Day by day, Kendra sought to impress me. I didn’t show any emotion, not out of restraint but because I simply don’t feel emotions. She went out and slept with different men and women. One night, she went to a bar and had a gang-bang with five different black studs from a community college Baseball team. She acquired Chlamydia that way. Being cheerfully psychotic, she didn’t care. Another night, she picked up a black woman at a lesbian bar and slept with her, before robbing the woman at knifepoint and slashing her in the face for good measure. She laugh
ed maniacally while telling me about her adventures. I listened impassively and took notes. She got frustrated when I didn’t react. Hell, once, she even took off her clothes and got naked right in the middle of my office. Just to see how I’d react. Kendra is a beautiful woman. She was used to both men and women noticing her body. I didn’t. I looked at her the same way I would look at a nice jacket. It’s there. I’m not angry. I’m not happy. I just notice, and move on. That frustrated her most of all. Like many manipulative women, her sexuality was a source of power for her. She used it to dominate both men and women. Well, it didn’t work on me. So she sought to outdo herself.
One night, Kendra donned a black costume and mask, and got a loaded rifle. She went into a bank, and sought to rob it. She shot and wounded a policeman, then killed two of the women who worked there. She made off with fifty thousand dollars. I watched the whole thing on television. Oh, yeah. It was televised. The gunshots attracted the attention of a nearby Washington State Police cruiser. They chased her across close to a hundred miles. It was sensational. Definitely the news of the day. A gunwoman was being chased by Washington State Police across the highway. Finally, she ran out of gas. They tried to get her to surrender. Being psychotic, she wouldn’t give up, even when cornered. She barricaded herself in a cabin not far from the road. The cops surrounded the cabin. They went in like Storm Troopers in Star Wars. She received seventeen bullets. Yep, Kendra was one dead psycho.
The next day, I read about the whole thing in the newspaper. I felt something akin to happiness. I can’t describe it to you. In all likelihood, you’re an ordinary human and couldn’t comprehend how my mind works. If I could feel emotions, I’d be happy. Kendra the psychopath was dead. Gone forever. And in the eyes of the world, this was an open and shut case. A respected female college professor went loco and killed people on a murderous spree. She made the local news and even national and international news. Oh, yeah. Her picture was flashed on CNN and on the Internet. She was discussed in Chat Rooms. I guess she achieved fame after all. And I, the man indirectly responsible for her destruction, quietly rejoiced. I told you psychopaths aren’t cut out for this game. They feel…emotions. I’m a sociopath. I don’t feel anything. I can see right through you. I can pinpoint every weakness and insecurity you have. And I will exploit it to my advantage. I could be sitting right next to you, and you would never suspect a thing. Isn’t that cool?
Latisha
- 06.05.2021
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