{"id":2001,"date":"2016-08-05T23:32:17","date_gmt":"2016-08-06T03:32:17","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.beydeckard.com\/blog\/?p=2001"},"modified":"2016-09-27T10:16:23","modified_gmt":"2016-09-27T14:16:23","slug":"sessions-with-max-5","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/sessions-with-max-5\/","title":{"rendered":"Sessions with Max \u2013 #5"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a><\/p>\n

Novella - 49,000
\nGenre(s): transgressive, psychopath, dark erotica, QUILTBAG<\/p>\n

Fresh out of school, Dr. Crane takes on a new patient that both intrigues and unnerves him. Charming, manipulative, and amoral, Max\u2019s proves to be exactly the sort of mind Crane found himself drawn to in fiction.<\/p>\n

When Max begins to weave himself into Crane\u2019s life, Crane finds himself realizing that fiction is safe, and Max is certainly not.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Excerpt<\/h1>\n

 <\/p>\n

Disclaimer: Read at your own risk.<\/h3>\n

1 - The First Session<\/h1>\n

Monday, June 13th<\/h3>\n

\u201cI wish you would stop doing that.\u201d The words were spoken in a friendly tone, each syllable enunciated so precisely that they gave the impression of a foreign accent.<\/p>\n

Crane frowned at the young man seated across from him in the oddly plushy bright-orange barrel chair. They were over half an hour into their first session, and he was still struggling to establish a rapport with this new patient. \u201cDoing what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMimicking my posture to make me feel more at ease,\u201d replied Max, and he drummed a few beats with his fingertips against his calf as he looked around in distaste at the small shabby office Crane shared with the other therapists at the psychology clinic.<\/p>\n

Crane uncrossed his legs and sat back in the chair, discomfited. \u201cI\u2019m sorry. I didn\u2019t even realize I was doing it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cS\u2019aaall right.\u201d This time it came out slow and drawled, and Crane found himself smiling. \u201cIt has the opposite effect on me,\u201d Max explained with a shrug. \u201cI\u2019m intensely cognizant of you doing it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Crane chuckled. Cognizant<\/em>. The crisp pronunciation was back. The way Max\u2019s accent and speech patterns shifted constantly was fascinating.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, Max,\u201d he said, nodding. \u201cI\u2019ll try my best to stop doing it. It\u2019s my training, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d The reply was accompanied by a smile, but there was something slightly unsettling about it.<\/p>\n

Crane looked down at his notes, just to take a moment to think. Relief.<\/em> That\u2019s what he felt. It was as if he\u2019d gotten a pass because he\u2019d given the right answer\u2014like it would have been inexcusable had he been mimicking Max on purpose. Crane flipped over the scant info Max had provided on the clinic intake sheet, still pretending to read. For some reason, as they spoke, his mind kept slipping to the mafia movie he had seen that weekend with his wife, Mary. When he finally glanced up, Max looked amused.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry, I was just trying to get back to what we were talking about,\u201d Crane said. They had been talking about what Max called his \u201cghost\u201d, an imaginary friend that had been with him since childhood. \u201cCan you tell me more about Eric?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEddie.\u201d There was a flicker of annoyance in Max\u2019s dark eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry. Eddie<\/em>. Can you tell me more about him?\u201d Crane couldn\u2019t remember the last time he\u2019d felt the need to apologize so often in a session. Then he wondered if Max even cared for his apologies.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you want to know?\u201d The finger drumming again.<\/p>\n

It was one of three nervous tics that came over the young man whenever he was asked something uncomfortable. There was something odd about the tics though. Crane decided then to take note of them to see if they always happen in the same order. After putting two marks on the upper left-hand side of the page, he gestured with his pen. \u201cWhat is he like? Is he like you?\u201d Crane asked with interest.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s not like me, no. We\u2019re actually rather dissimilar.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn what way?\u201d<\/p>\n

A furrow appeared between Max\u2019s dark brows as he thought. It was like he was mentally shuffling through his answers to give Crane the one of least importance, and he was reminded of that expression about holding cards close to one\u2019s chest. Under \u201creason for seeking counselling\u201d on the intake sheet, Max had written \u201ctaedium vitae<\/em>\u201d, which translated to \u201ctired of life\u201d. Crane was about to point out that Max was the one who had come to see him, not the other way around, when Max finally spoke up.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s nicer. A little shy. Says I should be more serious\u2026 He\u2019s a bit of a fucking pain in my ass sometimes, to be honest.\u201d The words were followed by the cheerful, almost self-mocking laughter that always surprised Crane by how genuine it sounded.<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you call him a friend?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. But it\u2019s more than that.\u201d Max uncrossed his legs and leaned forward with his elbows on knees, stroking down over his mouth and jaw with one hand.<\/p>\n

Crane made another mark on the paper, this time in the top-centre of the page. That\u2019s tic number two<\/em>. \u201cMore? Like you have a deeper relationship?\u201d<\/p>\n

Max nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs there a sexual aspect to this relationship?\u201d This time Max smirked before he nodded, and the answer didn\u2019t surprise Crane. He wanted to ask more about the sex just because he was curious as to what exactly that entailed but decided against it.<\/p>\n

The young man clasped his hands loosely so that they hung between his knees as he watched Crane, but he didn\u2019t say anything else. Something about the way Max blinked was odd\u2026 like it was too slow or not done often enough.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat I\u2019m getting at is that\u201d\u2014Crane glanced quickly down at his notes\u2014\u201cEddie<\/em> provides you with all the companionship you could ever need.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMm.\u201d Paired with the tiny nod, it was a grunt of acknowledgement. Again, nothing else was said.<\/p>\n

Crane started to get annoyed, but noticed then that Max was looking at him with obvious levity. He exhaled in frustration.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d Max offered with a chuckle. \u201cYou\u2019re not asking for more than yes or no answers. Try to reformulate your questions so I\u2019m forced to say more.\u201d<\/p>\n

Crane\u2019s eyebrows rose. There it was again, that mixture of unsettled and relieved that had him sitting tense in his seat, but he smiled and nodded anyway, trying to keep his expression bland and friendly.<\/p>\n

\u201cAh! That\u2019s you giving me a hint, right?\u201d Crane said. It was like every time Max got tired of seeing Crane flounder, he would throw him a bone about how to approach his therapy.<\/p>\n

Max\u2019s smile was sly. Then he rubbed the back of his neck as he sat back before pushing the peak of his cap up a bit.<\/p>\n

Crane\u2019s pen made a fourth pen tic, top-right corner. \u201cDo you think Eddie gets in the way of making real connections with other people?\u201d<\/p>\n

A slight curl in Max\u2019s lip appeared, like he disapproved, and Crane realized that he\u2019d asked yet another yes or no question. He frowned and rephrased it quickly. \u201cI mean, why do you think Eddie affects your relationships with real people?\u201d<\/p>\n

The laugh that rang out was so lively and full of mirth that Crane found himself laughing along even though he was struck again with an infuriating juxtaposition of emotions.<\/p>\n

You asked the right question! Good boy! Have a liver treat!<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, Doc. You\u2019re assuming that Eddie isn\u2019t a real person. I assure you he is. Realer to me than you are,\u201d said Max, still grinning. However, his expression flashed to serious an eye blink later. \u201cWhy do you think he\u2019s<\/em> affecting my relationships? You said for yourself just a few seconds ago that he provides me with all the companionship I could ever need. Wouldn\u2019t real people, as you called them, affect my relationship with Eddie, and not the other way around?\u201d<\/p>\n

Crane opened his mouth, but Max swiped the air with a hand and cut him off before he could voice his concerns.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I know what you\u2019re going to say. Human beings need other human beings.<\/em> I get it. I do. But really, Doc, I\u2019m happy with the level of socialization I get. If I want more, I just go find more, it\u2019s not a big deal.\u201d<\/p>\n

Crane kept himself from frowning. He knew that people, in Max\u2019s world, were sort of like commodities or tools\u2014easily obtainable, useful, but impersonal. Then he did let himself frown. \u201cWhat if you were to ask Eddie to go away for a while and see how you do without him?\u201d<\/p>\n

Max\u2019s handsome face was devoid of expression. He shifted in his chair chair, placed his ankle on the opposite knee, and drummed out a little beat against the denim; Crane made a mark, top-left.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wouldn\u2019t.\u201d Fingertips drummed again, and Crane made a sixth tic, again in the left-hand column.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust as an experiment.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI wouldn\u2019t,\u201d Max repeated and rubbed his jaw; another mark went into Crane\u2019s notebook.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if I<\/em> were to ask you to do it for the good of our sessions? Just to see what happens?\u201d He knew that if Max had had his imaginary friend for as long as he claimed, it would take more than that, but Max was incredibly self-controlled\u2014anything was possible. Mostly, Crane was curious about how Max would answer.<\/p>\n

The last tic in Max\u2019s cycle showed itself as he scratched at the back of his neck and then lifted the peak of his battered old army cap high enough to show his squashed brown curls beneath it. Crane made another small dash in his notebook, feeling like he\u2019d accomplished something by discovering the repetitive pattern of Max\u2019s nervous tics.<\/p>\n

\u201cDr. Crane,\u201d said Max, shaking his head slowly when he finally replied. \u201cIf you knew what you were asking me to do\u2026\u201d Suddenly, all the nervous movements stopped, and Max went still, staring at Crane with dark eyes. \u201cNo. I\u2019m going to tell you what you\u2019re asking me to do. Consider this one a freebie. You\u2019re asking me to\u201d\u2014Max paused, his expression becoming a little pained, even vague for a moment\u2014\u201csend the one thing<\/em> that\u2019s keeping me out of jail or out of the loony bin on holiday<\/em>. That<\/em> is what you\u2019re asking me to do.\u201d<\/p>\n

Crane was disturbed by the way Max\u2019s gaze held his, but he couldn\u2019t look away. It was like all of his reactions were being categorized and filed away in Max\u2019s lizard brain. At that moment, he realized that Max would do it and send Eddie away if he asked him again. But if Crane did that, he would be responsible for\u2026 responsible for what? He blinked, trying to hide his unease from the young man sitting across from him.<\/p>\n

In a flash, Max\u2019s face split into the friendly smile that seemed to be his default expression, and he pulled himself to his feet. There was a pulse of fear in Crane\u2019s gut at the sudden proximity\u2014tiny, but it was there.<\/p>\n

\u201cTime\u2019s up!\u201d said Max cheerfully.<\/p>\n

Sure enough, with a glance to his watch, Crane saw it was three thirty. He rose out of his chair, towering over his dark-haired patient. He was more flustered and tense than after any of his other consults.<\/p>\n

\u201cSee you next week,\u201d Crane managed, and Max made a double clicking noise with one side of his mouth, like he was chastising Crane for being unnerved.<\/p>\n

It was also the same noise that Crane had heard people use to call their dogs. A seed of anger took root inside him, but he kept a calm smile on his face even though Max gave a little nod, like he could see right through his pretense.<\/p>\n

Reaching for the doorknob, Max threw a look over his shoulder. \u201cI\u2019ll do them all in reverse next week, just for fun,\u201d he said with a wink. Then he was gone.<\/p>\n

Crane looked down at the page where he\u2019d been keeping track of Max\u2019s tics. He slowly tore it out of his notebook, crumpled it up, and threw it in the garbage. Looking out at the bright sun, he was struck with the urge to cancel his next appointment and bike home, simply to see Mary\u2019s smile.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

2 - Common Ground<\/h1>\n

Monday, June 20th<\/h3>\n

Crane smiled as Max sat down across from him. They were supposed to be in the same therapy room as their first session, but he had found Debra, the receptionist, having lunch in it when Max arrived. Crane shifted a little in his seat and chided himself for not simply telling her he had booked the office instead of abdicating and taking the empty one at the back of the clinic\u2014this one was cramped and musty smelling, and the chairs uncomfortable. No wonder it was always free.<\/p>\n

Grow a backbone.<\/em> Five weeks working at the clinic and he had yet to find his stride\u2014he felt like the bumbling newcomer, still wet behind the ears.<\/p>\n

Max crossed his legs and leaned back. Steepling his fingers, he returned Crane\u2019s smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you going somewhere after this?\u201d asked Crane as he opened his notebook on his lap.<\/p>\n

Max\u2019s brown curls were tamed, and he was wearing a black button-down with a tie, black pants, and polished square-toed dress shoes. He looked down at himself and frowned. When he met Crane\u2019s eye again, his expression was one of amusement.<\/p>\n

\u201cNah.\u201d<\/p>\n

The tone was friendly, but Crane felt the same strange tension as the previous week. He was being made to feel stupid for asking, even though it was a valid question\u2014the last time he had seen Max, he had been dressed in old jeans and jackboots. Crane gritted his teeth and stared down at the blank page for a moment.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo\u2026 How was your week?\u201d he finally asked, smoothing out his expression as he glanced back up.<\/p>\n

Max\u2019s dark eyes crinkled at the corners as he contemplated the question. \u201cOh\u2026 It was okay. Didn\u2019t get up to much.\u201d<\/p>\n

Crane nodded and jotted down the date. \u201cAnd your level of stress?\u201d<\/p>\n

This time Max\u2019s brows pinched above his nose, and Crane wondered if the uncertainty he saw in his face was sincere.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2026 don\u2019t know,\u201d said Max. \u201cThat\u2019s the problem. By the time I\u2019m able to recognize that I\u2019m stressed, it\u2019s pretty bad.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you feeling now?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing?\u201d<\/p>\n

Max\u2019s face split into a wide grin, and he let out a laugh. Crane found it a little startling the way his expressions changed suddenly.<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing<\/em> is a simplification of what I\u2019m feeling at this exact moment. Yes, I feel something. No, I don\u2019t know what it is.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you describe it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Max\u2019s expression went pensive. \u201cMy heart is beating faster than it normally does. My shoulders hurt, which I\u2019m going to attribute to tension. Sometimes, I feel like I need to take an extra breath.\u201d He sounded a bit terse.<\/p>\n

Crane leaned forward and Max averted his eyes. \u201cYou\u2019re just telling me what you\u2019re feeling physically<\/em>. What about mentally? How are you feeling<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n

Max grimaced as he looked out the window. One shoulder came up in a small shrug. \u201cSomewhere between amused and annoyed. Like usual.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean \u2018like usual\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n

The way Max\u2019s eyes swivelled back to Crane\u2019s gave him the impression that his mood had slipped somewhat in the direction of \u201cannoyed\u201d.<\/p>\n

Max sized him up for a moment. \u201cThose are my two basic moods. The only other ones I can identify reliably are anger and arousal\u2026 But I do, on occasion, get them mixed up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Crane stared into Max\u2019s dark eyes and felt his heart beat faster, but he forced himself to smile. Never show fear<\/em>. Wasn\u2019t that advice for dealing with aggressive dogs?<\/p>\n

After a moment, Max smiled back. \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m not used to being like this with anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLike how?\u201d Crane sat back, then let out a silent sigh of relief as the tension in the room petered out.<\/p>\n

Max averted his eyes again. \u201cHonest.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s good that you\u2019re being honest with me.\u201d He glanced down at his book and realized the page was still blank. He wasn\u2019t sure how to approach this session. Max wasn\u2019t nearly as talkative as last time. Not for the first time, Crane wished he had Max\u2019s previous therapy records. \u201cHave you ever been diagnosed with an autism spectrum disorder?\u201d<\/p>\n

Max chuckled and glanced at Crane. It was a yes or no question, but it obviously amused him enough that he gave Crane more than a one-word answer.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy does everyone<\/em> ask me that?\u201d Max said, rolling his eyes. \u201cNo. I do not fall on the spectrum.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut you get asked that often?\u201d It was another yes or no, but again, Max was forthcoming.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. It\u2019s a real pain in my ass\u2014it\u2019s like everyone and their dog is obsessed with diagnosing folks with Asperger\u2019s. Drives me insane.\u201d Max grinned and smoothed down his tie. Crane noticed then that the geometric patterns on it were the aliens from Space Invaders, and he laughed to himself.<\/p>\n

Crane made a note: Feelings = bad topic. Mental acuity = good<\/em>. \u201cWhat do you<\/em> think you have?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMe? Nothing. I\u2019m normal.\u201d Max\u2019s laugh rang out and Crane added his own quiet laugh. \u201cNo, serious, Doc. They\u2019ve tried to pin me with a number of things: manic-depressive or bipolar even though I am neither manic nor depressive, nor do I have any kind of discernible mood swings; narcissistic, histrionic, borderline, dissociative\u2026 etcetera, etcetera.\u201d Max rolled his hand in the air and chuckled again, dismissing the diagnoses. \u201cBut you\u2019re smarter than they are, Dr. Crane\u2026 Aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Crane smiled at the compliment before he could stop himself. Max was charming, manipulative, focused, self-aware, and incredibly intelligent\u2014exactly the kind of character that Crane normally loved on-screen. However, this wasn\u2019t fiction, and the room suddenly felt even smaller when Max\u2019s expression went neutral and he tilted his head a little. The psychopath\u2019s head tilt.<\/p>\n

Half of him knew he should probably drop Max as a patient and refer him to someone with more experience. Crane was barely out of school, and Max was only his fifth patient. He was out of his league. However, the other half was thrilled at the chance to pick Max\u2019s brain. To study him. Hell, maybe he could write a paper on him.<\/p>\n

Crane nodded. \u201cNone of those things fit,\u201d he agreed, fully aware that he was saying exactly what Max wanted to hear. He tried to formulate his next question in a way that would get Max talking.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo trauma,\u201d said Max pre-emptively, and then he frowned as he focused on something above Crane\u2019s head.<\/p>\n

Crane glanced down at what he had written, and a tiny, cool surge of adrenaline raced through him: History of trauma<\/em>? \u201cHow did you know I was going to ask you about trauma right then?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

For a moment, it was like Max hadn\u2019t heard him as he continued to stare over Crane\u2019s head. Then he blinked and focused on him.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat was the next logical question, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d Max said with a smile. \u201cAt least, that\u2019s what I would have asked.\u201d He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. In the dim natural light of the office, his eyes appeared black\u2026 completely opaque. Crane couldn\u2019t look away, seized by the ridiculous suspicion that Max could see into his thoughts. \u201cNo trauma. Normal upbringing. No one was murdered in front of me, I was not molested by anyone, and I\u2019ve never been in the kind of accident that would cause brain damage.\u201d<\/p>\n

When Max\u2019s eyes slid away from Crane\u2019s to stare once more at a spot above his head, Crane looked down at his book and scratched out his question about trauma. He glanced up at his patient and saw Max was scowling at whatever he had been staring at before. Crane looked behind him at the two paintings on the wall.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry\u2026 It\u2019s just that they\u2019re identical,\u201d said Max. \u201cWhy in the hell would you have two identical paintings on the same wall? Especially<\/em> in a clinic where you see people with mental problems? That\u2019s enough to drive me a little nuts. I can\u2019t concentrate.\u201d Max stood up and closed the space between them in two steps.<\/p>\n

Crane\u2019s mouth went dry as he stared up, startled, and wondered what the young man\u2019s intentions were. For a split second, he had the strangest feeling that Max would reach out and cup his cheek softly. His face flushed and his skin grew hotter at the obvious merriment in Max\u2019s eyes. Crane swallowed.<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you care to swap places with me,\u201d said Max softly. There was something far too intimate about the tone of his voice, as if he were asking Crane something else entirely. Crane lurched to his feet, all too aware of the sweat dampening the underarms of his shirt.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. Sure. Sorry,\u201d he mumbled, brushing past Max to take his vacated seat. Max\u2019s cologne smelled like wood fire and musk, and it clung to the fabric of the chair. He reopened the notebook on his knees and looked down, though he closed his eyes after a moment. Crane was straight. There was no reason why Max would affect him in such a way, but there it was\u2014Crane, unbelievably, was getting an erection, and the more he thought about it, the worse it got.<\/p>\n

Think of Mary.<\/em><\/p>\n

When he looked up at Max, he saw nothing but the same subtle amusement that was so often on his handsome face. However, it was as if Max felt he had gone too far and answered the rest of Crane\u2019s questions as helpfully as he could. The rest of the session passed quickly with an atmosphere that felt nothing but amicable.<\/p>\n

With five minutes left, Max steered the conversation towards movies, talking about the last film he had seen. It was the same mafia movie Crane had gone to see the previous week. He nodded enthusiastically at Max\u2019s theory about the main protagonist.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh yeah,\u201d Crane said with a smile. \u201cI love psychopaths.\u201d<\/p>\n

Max leaned forward in his seat, a Cheshire grin on his face. \u201cI know you do.\u201d It was nearly a purr.<\/p>\n

Crane watched Max stand, and as he got to his own feet, he mumbled something about seeing him the following week. When Max was gone, it took a few minutes of deep breathing before he felt okay to leave the office.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Crane looked over at Mary, sleeping on the couch next to him. He felt guilty. He shouldn\u2019t be feeling guilty. He glanced back down at the phone in his hand, the message he had reworded a dozen times waiting there for him to hit Send.<\/p>\n

Hope you don\u2019t mind, it\u2019s Dr. Crane. Got your # from file. Can\u2019t make Mon next week, Wed okay? Same time.<\/em><\/p>\n

He could have had the receptionist reschedule for him. There was no reason why he should be the one texting. Crane took a long pull from his beer, spared another look at his slumbering wife, and sent his message out into the ether.<\/p>\n

Almost immediately the phone buzzed in his hand.<\/p>\n

Hey Doc. No prob Wed. Just started watching something you might like. Ch 23. Movie about a serial killer.<\/em><\/p>\n

Crane stared at the message for a few seconds. Feeling strangely excited, he got up, went to the fridge, and grabbed another beer. Mary blinked at him sleepily when he sat back down.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t you go to bed?\u201d he said with a smile. \u201cYou\u2019re not even watching your show.\u201d<\/p>\n

She sat up and yawned. \u201cNot coming?\u201d she asked, rubbing her face as she stood.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not tired,\u201d he lied. \u201cI thought I would stay up to watch this thing a colleague of mine recommended. If you don\u2019t mind, that is.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mary nodded and squeezed his shoulder. She leaned down to give him a kiss, her breath a little sour.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy would I mind? Stay up and watch your show, honey. Just keep it down, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

Crane nodded and watched Mary climb the stairs. He waited a few seconds, then picked up the TV remote and switched to channel twenty-three. A woman on the screen started crying hysterically. Quickly, he thumbed the volume button. He took another swig of beer and grabbed his phone.<\/p>\n

Watching<\/em> was all that he sent.<\/p>\n

The phone vibrated a second later.<\/p>\n

Good.<\/em><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

3 - The Rabbit Hole<\/h1>\n

Monday, July 18th<\/h3>\n

Crane checked his phone. Again. No message from Max and it was three minutes into their appointment. He pinched the bridge of his nose, tapping his pen against his knee a few times. Was he going to be \u201cstood up\u201d again? Last week, Max had messaged him almost ten minutes after he was supposed to have been there with a simple \u201ccan\u2019t make it, see you next week<\/em>.\u201d Annoyed, Crane had messaged back immediately to point out that Max would be billed the usual two-hundred-dollar fee since he hadn\u2019t given twenty-four hours\u2019 notice. The reply that came from Max a heartbeat later was an infuriatingly short \u201cYeah<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

He stood up and crossed the room to look out the window. The noontime traffic below was light, and the weather had shifted from gloomy and overcast to sunny since he\u2019d been at the office. He glanced at his phone. Seven minutes late. Fucking hell, Max<\/em>. Technically, he wasn\u2019t required to wait around if a patient was more than fifteen minutes late. However, the thought of sitting there like an idiot until Max deigned<\/em> to message him only to dismiss him again\u2026 Well, fuck that. Max was playing games with him. He was sure of it. After two weeks of texting each other semi-regularly, always under the pretense of discussing movies, the radio silence of the last week was\u2026 What? Frustrating? Insulting? Worrying?<\/p>\n

Crane pressed his palm over his mouth, breathing slowly through his nose as he stared at the empty sidewalk below.<\/p>\n

Why are you getting so riled up about this? Max lives to manipulate. If you react to this, you\u2019re just playing into his power games. He\u2019s obviously not coming.<\/em> Crane sighed, squinting in the direction of the nearby metro station.<\/p>\n

You know what? If you leave right this minute, you can probably catch Mary before she heads out for her shift. Maybe you can go take a walk in the park together\u2026 hand in hand, like you used to when you were first dating back in high school. Remember that? Yeah. That sounds nice\u2026<\/em> Despite the thread of his thoughts, Crane remained at the window, scanning the street for any sign of Max.<\/p>\n

Crane was stalling. He knew it and hated himself for it. Squeezing his eyes shut, he groaned softly into his palm. Then he opened his eyes and fished in his pocket for his phone.<\/p>\n

No. Don\u2019t message him. Don\u2019t chase after him. Don\u2019t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he\u2019s gotten under your skin. Have Debra email him the bill and tell him that he\u2019s being referred to another therapist\u2026 hell, another clinic.<\/em><\/p>\n

Crane felt like punching something really hard\u2026 or crushing something. Or\u2026 having sex. No, not sex. Fucking<\/em>. Dirty, raunchy hard-core fucking. Shoving his dick into someone with the sole purpose of emptying his balls. No foreplay. No talking. Just raw, animal fucking.<\/p>\n

Crane felt his cock stir and jammed his hand down the front of his Dockers to adjust himself. With a bitter laugh, he fondled himself gently for a moment. What did he know about fucking<\/em>? Even as a hormonal teen, Mary had been all about making love<\/em>. Not that that was a bad thing, but now that they were no longer trying for a baby, even the lovemaking had dwindled to almost nothing.<\/p>\n

His skin prickled uncomfortably, and a cold spike of adrenaline went straight to his gut a full second before the quiet voice spoke behind him.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry I\u2019m late.\u201d<\/p>\n

Crane pulled his hand out of his pants as he spun around, his mouth dry. How long had Max been standing there, watching him? It took some effort, but he managed a serene smile as he gestured to one of the seats.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s fine, Max,\u201d he lied. \u201cTake a seat.\u201d The clock on the wall above the door showed that Max was nearly twenty minutes late.<\/p>\n

Max sat down and crossed one leg over the other so his ankle rested on the opposite knee. There was a large pixelated skull on his black shirt, and he wore threadbare jeans and black and white Converse. On his head was the dark-grey, army-style cap he\u2019d worn the day they\u2019d met, its frayed, curling brim casting his features into shadow.<\/p>\n

Max scratched at the side of his head and tucked a brown curl behind his ear, giving Crane a crooked smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cWow, Doc\u2026 You waited for me,\u201d he said, sounding relieved and awkwardly, endearingly shy.<\/p>\n

Crane wanted to believe it wasn\u2019t an act, that he had been wrong in assuming Max\u2019s absence last week and his late arrival today were some kind of game. That through some miraculous journey of self-discovery, Max had transformed into the painfully earnest young man who stared up at him with his big brown eyes full of soul. Then Max\u2019s expression went sly, and eyes narrowed, he tilted his head at Crane, shattering the illusion. \u201cD\u2019awww\u2026 You stayed and waited and waited for little ol\u2019 me even though you could have left.\u201d<\/p>\n

Irritated at Max\u2019s mocking tone, Crane took his seat. \u201cYou\u2019re assuming that I don\u2019t have another appointment this afternoon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t assume anything,\u201d Max replied, his words crisp and cold. \u201cI know you\u2019re not seeing anyone else today.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd how do you know that?\u201d Crane opened the notebook in his lap to busy himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cI called and asked Debra.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh.\u201d Crane scribbled a note in the margin of the page to remind himself to have a talk with the receptionist about Max. \u201cSo\u2026 You made me wait today on purpose<\/em> then? Is that what you\u2019re saying?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Dr. Crane. That\u2019s exactly what I\u2019m saying, though you already knew that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid I?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d be fucking stupid not to. And you may be many<\/em> things, but stupid is not one of them, thank God.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t apprecia\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo how does that make you feel? Knowing that I let you wait on purpose<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n

Crane ignored the question, his jaw set in annoyance for a moment. He let out a slow, calming breath.<\/p>\n

\u201cMax, what on earth is the point of making me wait?\u201d he said in a weary, patronizing, and completely unprofessional tone\u2026 He couldn\u2019t help it. \u201cWhat were you hoping to achieve? Hm? Were you hoping to make me angr\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou would have waited even longer\u2026 just on the off chance that I came in. I made<\/em> you wait here. You could have gone home and gotten in a little\u201d\u2014Max bit his bottom lip and punched his fist out a few times, punctuating the gesture with soft grunts\u2014\u201cwith the missus. Instead, you stood here waiting for me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMax, that\u2019s\u2026 really inappropriate.\u201d Crane barely kept the anger out of his voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd do you know why<\/em> you waited for me? Maybe you don\u2019t even know the answer\u2026 Maybe you do\u2026\u201d Max went eerily still, staring at Crane without expression, waiting for him to answer.<\/p>\n

Crane wanted to move past this posturing\u2014somehow dispel the weird, breathless intensity that infused the room as Max once again took control of the session\u2026 and of him. Crane knew he had waited too long to answer when a coy grin dimpled Max\u2019s cheek.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s because you missed<\/em> me,\u201d Max said in a soft voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t miss you.\u201d Crane abruptly closed his notebook. \u201cAnd I don\u2019t appreciate you wasting my time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, but you did<\/em> miss me. You missed me when I didn\u2019t show up last week. You missed me when I didn\u2019t answer your texts. You missed me when you turned on your TV and I wasn\u2019t there with you, messaging you\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMax. Stop. I didn\u2019t miss you.\u201d But it was a lie. It was a damn lie. And Max knew it.<\/p>\n

\u201cI made<\/em> you miss me. I wanted you to miss me. I wanted you to think about me when you woke up in the morning. I wanted you to think about me when you went to bed at night. I wanted you to think about me when you parted your wife\u2019s creamy white thighs\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay. Session over. I would like you to leave.\u201d Crane\u2019s pulse crashed in his ears and he felt dizzy. He needed Max to stop talking.<\/p>\n

\u201cOhh\u2026 Did I cross a line there?\u201d asked Max, his brown eyes wide. \u201cIs it because it\u2019s all true?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGet out,\u201d whispered Crane.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou missed me. And I needed<\/em> you to miss me, Dennis. Do you want to know why?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDr. Crane,\u201d Crane corrected him. He couldn\u2019t believe he was letting this go on. He had to get to his feet and leave the room. Maybe have Debra call the police. Max was far shorter than him, but the young man was more muscular\u2026 And what if he had a weapon?<\/p>\n

Crane didn\u2019t move. Pathetic<\/em>.<\/p>\n

Max smiled at him. \u201cIf you missed me, then I knew I could trust you, Dennis.\u201d<\/p>\n

Fingers digging into the arms of his seat, Crane took slow, measured breaths. A breakthrough? More mind games? \u201cIt isn\u2019t prudent to let this continue.\u201d<\/p>\n

Max blinked and sat up. \u201cPrudent? Did you work all those long years getting your degree so you could be prudent<\/em>? So you could work at treating eating disorders and sexless marriages?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI worked hard so I could help people.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo\u2026 not really. Not truly. I don\u2019t believe that. You didn\u2019t sit there watching documentaries on Carl Rogers going \u2018Ooh\u2026 I want to heal the world<\/em>!\u2019 No, you told me watching Silence of the Lambs<\/em> was what inspired you. You told me that darkness and depravity drew you like a moth to a flame. You said you wanted to study evil and see if it held up to your expectations. Do you remember that?\u201d<\/p>\n

Crane had indeed said those things. He even remembered the night he\u2019d said them. One too many beers, Silence of the Lambs<\/em> on Netflix, Mary working late at the Montreal General, his cellphone in hand with Max\u2019s last message waiting like an invitation to bare his soul: tell me everything<\/em>. He let out his breath, a harsh counterpoint to the quietly ticking clock above.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you afraid of me, Dennis? You shouldn\u2019t be. I\u2019m trying my very best to make you understand that I like<\/em> you. And I\u2019m offering you the very thing you desire the most: me<\/em>. You know<\/em> I\u2019m a fine specimen of amorality. I\u2019m giving you the opportunity to look behind the curtain. No holding back.\u201d Max stood, his smile friendly but gaze intense.<\/p>\n

Crane almost flinched when the young man took a step towards him.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Crane said. \u201cI\u2019m not interested in your head games, and I\u2019m certainly not impressed with your attempts at intimidation.\u201d Crane\u2019s heart was beating too fast, and the resulting light headedness hoarsened his voice.<\/p>\n

Max raised his hands and took another step. \u201cIntimidation? I\u2019m not trying to intimidate you, Dennis. See?\u201d Max dropped down to his knees and stared up at Crane, his cheek dimpled. \u201cI\u2019m as harmless as a kitten.\u201d<\/p>\n

Crane could smell Max\u2014his cologne, the deodorant he used, the slight mint on his breath. He straightened in his chair and swallowed thickly. Max was far, far too close. Crane thought he could feel the heat emanating from him. It was ridiculous and shocking\u2026 and arousing. He should have been afraid, but instead, he was terribly excited. Crane clenched his jaw when he saw his patient\u2019s smile slip a notch. Max\u2019s eyes seemed to darken farther\u2014there was hunger in them.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t fight it,\u201d Max murmured.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not fighting anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo head games. No lies. No manipulation. No holding anything back.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou said you were being honest before,\u201d Crane pointed out.<\/p>\n

\u201cI lied.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen how can I be sure this time?\u201d he heard himself ask in a calm voice that belied his speeding pulse.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have my word.\u201d Max placed a hand over his heart.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe word of a psychopath.\u201d<\/p>\n

Max\u2019s dark brows shot up in amusement, and he clicked his tongue twice. \u201cOuch, Doc. You make it sound like such a bad thing. Besides\u2026 That\u2019s not a real diagnosis.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a personal observation.\u201d Max\u2019s personality disorder didn\u2019t fit neatly into a single category. Not paranoid, too careful, too self-aware, too grounded, too emotionally stable\u2014Max was confident and driven by an unshakable and fully formed sense of self. But then there was this imaginary friend Eddie. Crane was still uncertain whether Max actually believed Eddie existed or if he was aware he had created him as a sort of mental prosthetic\u2014the conscience and moral compass that he had been born lacking.<\/p>\n

Crane narrowed his eyes at Max. \u201cWhat does Eddie say about this?\u201d<\/p>\n

Max smirked. \u201cEddie says he\u2019ll protect you from me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Licking his bottom lip, Crane frowned. It was tempting to take him up on his offer. So tempting. Ever since he\u2019d started seeing Max, it always felt like he was brushing the surface. This was a golden opportunity to see the true twists that Max\u2019s mind took\u2014witness what he was capable of.<\/p>\n

What the hell are you thinking?<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, Dennis. I\u2019m laying my soul bare here,\u201d said Max, tilting his head back. He lifted the peaked brim of his cap before settling it back down over his flattened curls, an easy smile on his face. \u201cCome down the rabbit hole with me\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

During their sessions, Max had hinted at things he\u2019d done. Terrible things. Crane knew he had purposely kept from reporting any of Max\u2019s criminal allusions so he\u2019d keep coming back. He already had a foot in the rabbit hole.<\/p>\n

\u201cI promise I\u2019ll be as honest with you as I can be,\u201d Max said, his expression blank. Crane trusted that more than the sunny smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have to abide by the limits\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2014of confidentiality. Yes, I know. And that\u2019s a rule you\u2019re simply going to have to break. Otherwise\u2026\u201d Max gave a shrug.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t do that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can.<\/em> You can do anything you want. It\u2019s not like I\u2019m going to tell on you. In fact, let me give you a sample of my honesty right now, free of any obligation on your part. And just maybe<\/em> it\u2019ll help convince you\u2026\u201d Max placed a hand on Crane\u2019s knee, and Crane tensed, his heart like a jackhammer in his rib cage.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d He didn\u2019t push Max away. No\u2026 It was more like both<\/em> feet in the rabbit hole.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m going to unzip your pants, gently take your cock out, and put it in my mouth,\u201d Max replied matter-of-factly as he reached for the zipper in Crane\u2019s Dockers.<\/p>\n

Crane grabbed his hand. \u201cI don\u2019t think so,\u201d he rasped.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen why aren\u2019t you moving my hand away?\u201d<\/p>\n

Crane tightened his hold slightly on Max\u2019s hand but did nothing to stop him from sliding the button through the hole or easing the zipper down. Crane\u2019s cock was throbbing up against the seam of his pants, growing more uncomfortable by the second. This is insane.<\/em> He glanced up at the clock. There were only a few minutes left in their session.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, there\u2019s plenty of time,\u201d Max murmured, his smile charming again. \u201cAnd if you\u2019re worried that someone will come in\u2026 Well, doesn\u2019t that make it more exciting?\u201d<\/p>\n

Crane winced and shut his eyes as Max\u2019s cool fingers touched him through the opening in his boxers. He shifted his hand so it rested on Max\u2019s forearm. The muscles slid smoothly beneath Max\u2019s skin as he freed Crane\u2019s cock from his pants.<\/p>\n

\u201cSee? You want this as much as I do. And, what a gorgeous big cock you have, Dennis. Beautiful. Simply stunning. I haven\u2019t had something this nice in my mouth in a long while\u2026\u201d Max said, stroking him slowly.<\/p>\n

Crane felt something warm touch the slit in his cockhead and gasped. Opening his eyes, he held his breath as he watched Max run his tongue down his shaft and back up to the swollen crown, his gaze locked with Crane\u2019s.<\/p>\n

Max pulled away and grinned. \u201cDoes that feel good?\u201d<\/p>\n

Crane nodded slowly. He couldn\u2019t tell what he felt more: aghast or thrilled.<\/p>\n

What are you doing<\/em>? part of him was screaming. The other part was mesmerized by the licked shine of Max\u2019s bottom lip as he stared up at him, Crane\u2019s cock in his hand. With the other hand, Max flipped his army cap front to back so the rim was out of the way.<\/p>\n

A thought stuck in his mind\u2014about whether any of his colleagues had been sucked off in this office by one of their patients\u2014but it fled the moment Max\u2019s mouth enveloped him, hot and wet, and he leaned his head back on the chair with a quiet groan, eyes closed.<\/p>\n

In less than a minute, Crane was breathing heavily, sweat soaking the thin cotton of his shirt. His cock slid out of Max\u2019s mouth, and he heard him chuckle.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know I\u2019m good, but I\u2019m not that good. I take it that it\u2019s been a while? Does your wife not have a taste for cock? Hm, Dennis? Are you imagining that it\u2019s her mouth on you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Crane reached out and cupped the back of Max\u2019s head to pull him back down. Obediently, Max\u2019s lips slid around his cock again, taking him deep enough that Crane felt him try to suppress a gag. Crane flared his nostrils, teeth clenched, and held Max in place.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s \u2018Doctor<\/em> Crane\u2019, Max\u2014my wife\u2019s the only one who calls me Dennis<\/em>\u2014and you\u2019re the one sucking my cock. No one else,\u201d Crane said in an even tone, the one he saved for therapy sessions. Then he dropped his voice into a low growl. \u201cNow\u2026 Don\u2019t stop until I\u2019m done with you.\u201d That he was in charge was pure fiction, he knew that, but it made it easier for him somehow. And\u2026 he liked that Max was humouring him.<\/p>\n

What else do you think Max will humour?<\/em><\/p>\n

Crane crushed his eyes closed. How deep would he go down the rabbit hole?<\/p>\n

When Max nodded as best as he could, Crane eased up on his hold. However, he kept his hand on the back of Max\u2019s head, his fingers buried in the mess of dark curls to ground himself in the moment, and a moment was all that it took.<\/p>\n

\u201cGggguuuhhh,\u201d he choked out, arching back against the chair as he unloaded into Max\u2019s talented sucking mouth. By the time he sagged back, empty, warm, and dazed, staring into the gentle mockery in Max\u2019s eyes, he felt like he\u2019d just signed a contract in blood.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, you\u2019re in for a penny, in for a pound, eh, Doc?\u201d whispered Max. Licking his top lip, he winked, then rose to his feet, adjusting his cap to face forward again. He pointed to Crane\u2019s open fly. \u201cPlenty more of that, I promise.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re in a very promising mood,\u201d Crane said, grimacing as he tucked himself away and zipped up. He felt dirty.<\/p>\n

\u201cI told you. I like you. And I\u2019d like to show you something tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOn TV?\u201d Crane asked. He stood, a touch shaky. A man had given him a blowjob. And not just any man, one that was possibly criminally insane. And it was the best blowjob he\u2019d ever had.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo TV. In person.\u201d Max smiled up at Crane. The dirty, guilty feeling was already fading fast, replaced by a pathetic eagerness over seeing Max again so soon.<\/p>\n

What had Max said? In for a penny, in for a pound.<\/em> His traitorous mind was already pointing out that Mary had another graveyard shift at the hospital that night. She\u2019d never know he was gone as long as he was back before she was.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it?\u201d he asked, wary.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, that\u2019d spoil it, n\u2019est-ce pas<\/em>?\u201d Max grinned. \u201cI\u2019ll text you an address later and you\u2019ll meet me there.\u201d<\/p>\n

Without waiting for an answer, Max spun on his heel and waved back over his head as he opened the door. \u201cSee ya, Doc. You\u2019ve given me plenty to swallow.<\/em> I\u2019ll think about it at length<\/em> later tonight and see what comes<\/em> of it\u2026\u201d he said cheerfully, loud enough that anyone in the vicinity would hear.<\/p>\n

Red-faced, Crane stood in the middle of the small office, knowing he was in over his head but wondering how long he\u2019d suffer having to wait for Max to text him.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Coming Sept. 30th, 2016<\/strong><\/p>\n

Buy Now<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Novella – 49,000 Genre(s): transgressive, psychopath, dark erotica, QUILTBAG Fresh out of school, Dr. Crane takes on a new patient that both intrigues and unnerves him. Charming, manipulative, and amoral, Max\u2019s proves to be exactly the sort of mind Crane found himself drawn to in fiction. When Max begins to weave himself into Crane\u2019s life, Crane finds himself realizing that fiction is safe, and Max is certainly not.   Excerpt   Disclaimer: Read at your own risk. 1 – The First Session Monday, June 13th \u201cI wish you would stop doing that.\u201d The words were spoken in a friendly tone, … <\/p>\n

Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"generate_page_header":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[72,284],"tags":[571,573,572,570,479],"class_list":["post-2001","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-beys-tales-writing-2","category-max","tag-blackmail","tag-blowjobs","tag-dirty-talk","tag-mind-games","tag-psychopath"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4sexs-wh","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":2210,"url":"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/max-is-now-available-for-preorder\/","url_meta":{"origin":2001,"position":0},"title":"Max is now available for preorder – (Releasing Sept. 30)","author":"Bey","date":"September 26, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"Order from: \u261e Amazon \u261c \u261e Smashwords \u261c \u261e All Romance eBooks \u261c \u261e iTunes \u261c \u261e Barnes & Noble \u261c \u261e Kobo \u261c \u261e CreateSpace \u261c Read an excerpt And there'll be a paperback available probably sooner. Novella (49,000 words) Genre(s): transgressive, psychopath, dark erotica, QUILTBAG Fresh out of\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Announcements"","block_context":{"text":"Announcements","link":"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/category\/announcements\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"cover-150","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.beydeckard.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/10\/cover-150.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":2084,"url":"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/sessions-with-max-8\/","url_meta":{"origin":2001,"position":1},"title":"Sessions With Max \u2013 #8","author":"Bey","date":"August 26, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"Novella - 49,000 Genre(s): transgressive, psychopath, dark erotica, QUILTBAG Fresh out of school, Dr. Crane takes on a new patient that both intrigues and unnerves him. Charming, manipulative, and amoral, Max\u2019s proves to be exactly the sort of mind Crane found himself drawn to in fiction. When Max begins to\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Max"","block_context":{"text":"Max","link":"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/category\/writing-2\/beys-tales-writing-2\/max\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.beydeckard.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/10\/cover-150.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":1937,"url":"https:\/\/beydeckard.com\/blog\/sessions-with-max-3\/","url_meta":{"origin":2001,"position":2},"title":"Sessions with Max \u2013 #3","author":"Bey","date":"July 21, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"Novella - 49,000 Genre(s): transgressive, psychopath, dark erotica, QUILTBAG Fresh out of school, Dr. Crane takes on a new patient that both intrigues and unnerves him. Charming, manipulative, and amoral, Max\u2019s proves to be exactly the sort of mind Crane found himself drawn to in fiction. 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