The Carver: Daddy's Girl
Copyright© 2026 by A duck named TEF
Chapter 5
Thriller Sex Story: Chapter 5 - Everett Dickinson, aka The Carver, could see numerous possibilities in being interviewed by a young psych student. To the serial killer’s delight not only does it turn out to be a she, but she is actually the warden's daughter. Aware as he is that some members of the fairer sex are drawn to men like himself, the idea that he might seduce her is too delicious for words. Who knows, she might even prove useful in his plans to escape.
Caution: This Thriller Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Crime Rough Anal Sex Masturbation Oral Sex Slow Violence
His voice sent a chill down her spine. Mandy leaned a little closer as well, if only to get a chance to feel any radiance from him.
“Good morning ... uh,” she fumbled as her hand went for the recording device, which slid across the table, caught by Everett.
“You want my consent again?” he asked, looking over the device.
Her pulse quickened; she’d been warned repeatedly not to let him touch any of the materials she had. She hoped that she was obscuring the agents view of his hands since her back was to the mirror.
“Y-yes...” She tentatively moved a hand forward, closer to his.
Everett pressed the button and slid the recorder back to Mandy, making a point to brush his hand against hers.
She shuddered at the feel of his skin. So warm. Like the last time, her heart beat wildly within her heaving chest. She was struggling to catch her breath, staring at his hand.
“Breathe,” he said in a voice just above a whisper, “just breathe, I’m just as human as you.” The only thing she could think of at that moment was yesterday’s observation: he may seem completely collected, but anatomy never lied. He just had better control of his emotional reactions.
Mandy took two slow breaths, “Thank you,” she mouthed and readjusted herself. “Last time you were a bit ... stiff?”
Everett let out a hardy laugh. He suspected, but didn’t expect, that she would have noticed, let alone mention it, but this was a good surprise. She was observant, and he liked that.
The laugh caught her off guard, causing her to jump slightly and knock her pen off the table. “I guess I can’t hide anything from you. Yes,” he answered as she reached down to pick it up. She snuck a look and once again, a bulge was present. Her ears began to burn, and she quickly pulled herself back up, eyes on the notebook.
“Miss Gillock, there are some things I have no power over, like you. You’re a beautiful woman, clever, observant, curious, and you seem to have a good head on your shoulders. You’re also one of the few attractive women I’ve interacted with in the past few years.” He leaned back in his chair, comfortable and in complete control. “Not to mention, your scent is absolutely intoxicating, especially compared to the stench of this place.”
She waited until he finished before she turned on the mic for the interview room. She would be turning it off and on a couple of times during this interview.
“So what’s your body count?” As soon as the question left her mouth, she mentally chided herself. The wording was completely wrong. Oh shit. I wish he would just kill me at this point.
“I mean, how many actual victims? On record, it’s fifty-seven. Are there more or less?” She hoped that saved face.
Everett’s grin widened slightly. “Well, they identified fifty-seven individuals from the fingers.” His expression changed to one of contemplation. He stood up and looked down at Mandy, a quick glance at the mirror, and back to his interviewer. He wanted those watching to know that they were playing by his rules.
“I have a request,” he said, placing his hands palm down on the table surface.
“There’s nothing I’d like more right now than to throw you onto this table, rip off your attire, and violate you in every way imaginable,” he began, “but I would suppose the unseen audience would rush to your rescue.” Another pause, and he leaned over, face mere inches from Mandy’s,
“Would you consider that a rescue, or an inconvenience for you, too?” He made sure only she would hear that question and straightened up again, “I’d like you to kiss me.”
Mandy looked back at the mirror briefly. Was that allowed? Could she do that? Would they let her if she tried or cut the interview short? They did say ‘do whatever it takes to get answers,’ didn’t they?
“They won’t stop it. They know you’re the only one to get the answers they want out of me. Just a kiss, nothing more, and we can proceed with the interview.” His tone did little to hide an edge of playfulness.
Everett knew they’d be willing to agree to a damn conjugal visit if it got their questions answered. Luckily for them, he wasn’t going to ask for that. He needed to do this right; a slow seduction usually lasted much longer, and was far stronger a bond than requesting a quick fuck.
She didn’t want to alienate him; on the contrary, she would have been fine with his first request, if it was indeed a request. Besides, that voice of his was so alluring, she felt her own mouth moisten in anticipation of such a sweet treat.
“O-okay,” she quietly replied.
Everett waited for a moment and tugged on the full-body restraints. “I may be able to stand here, but my chains are still bolted to the chair. Do you mind coming closer?”