• Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Non-Erotic
  • /
  • The Prosecutor's Office

The Prosecutor's Office

Why do I always yield to impulse? I don't know. Maybe a shrink could tell me. But I don't have the money or time to invest in such things. So I suck it up and move on. I've had to endure all kinds of hell in my life. My father Lenny Braxos Sr. was a mean-spirited womanizing medicine man and my mother Chelsea Johnson Braxos was a man-hating brute who battered me with anything she could get her hands on. Sometimes just for the fun of it. They both did a heck of a job on me. Living with them was pure hell. Small wonder I grew up to be such a paranoid guy. Fortunately, both of them died in a car accident. I pocketed three hundred grand from their insurance company and started living a little.

My name is Leonard Braxos Jr. Friends call me Bud. Back when I had friends anyway. Life didn't hand me many breaks but this just might be one of them. I live in a nice apartment in the Back Bay of Boston. I have a bachelors of science degree in criminal justice from UMass-Boston and a law degree from Suffolk University Law School. And I'm twenty seven years old. At first glance, I seem like a normal man. Six feet three inches tall, broad-shouldered and muscular, with light brown skin, curly black hair and pale green eyes. My father was Greek and my mother was black. I guess I'm biracial but I pretty much consider myself to be black. I'm certainly not white and every day the world reminds me of that. I don't care anymore because I'm rich, bitches!

Like I was saying before, I come from a dysfunctional household. A lot of people think if you were born into a financially stable family, you would turn out okay. Money wasn't everything. My father was a doctor at Mass General Hospital for twenty years. His colleagues respected him. He had good standing in the community. However, he was too fond of women and alcohol, not necessarily in that order. It nearly destroyed his career more than once. My mother was a police officer, working for the Boston police department. She hated her job and the people she worked with. At some point, she developed a deep hatred for men because she thought they had it easier in this society. And she took it out mostly on me.

I don't know where she gets her information but men don't have it easy in this society or any other. Men die years ahead of women. Men are now the minorities on college and university campuses across America. Men make up forty nine point something percent of the human population yet they are ninety percent of those serving time in prison. Male and female criminals receive different sentences for the same crimes. I've heard of women getting probation after committing murder. How about that? Yeah, men have it easy alright! My mother was delusional, psychotic and abusive. I guess that's why I have trouble trusting females these days. I think they're all evil manipulative creatures with no conscience whatsoever. They cannot be trusted. They have no heart. They have no soul. I could care less about them. But I hide it well. I adopted the demeanor of a handsome, polite and friendly guy around the ladies at work. I don't let any of them see my true face and inner darkness.

Now, many of you would consider me a woman-hater. Perhaps I am. But I don't think much of men either. There are a lot of stupid men out there. Like a certain British musician once worth close to a billion dollars who married a gold-digging female amputee without making the bitch sign a prenuptial agreement. She nearly took him to the cleaners. Yes, he is a very stupid man. Another very stupid man is a certain American politician who recently got taken down by the federal investigators due to his involvement with a high-priced call girl and the prostitution ring that she worked for. Yes, there are lots of stupid men out there. And I don't feel bad for them when they fall. The way I see it, the weak deserve their fate. For the record, I hate both sexes equally. I can't stand the bulk of humanity. That's why I love my dogs Marquis and Lucky so much. They're two large brown mutts. I treat them like my own sons.

I work for the district attorney's office in the city of Boston. I'm one of many assistant district attorneys. The job doesn't pay too well but I'm not in it for the money. I'm in it for the power. Pure and simple. I take a lot of pleasure in taking away the freedom of the men and women who come before me in a court of law. I've earned a reputation as one of the toughest prosecutors in the state of Massachusetts. Why? Simply by going after the sacred cows. The untouchables. The unmentionables. That's how I rose to power. I have recently sent to prison Andrea Yvan, a woman who killed her husband Franklin and daughters Jasmine and Angela in their sleep with a shotgun yet claimed insanity. Lots of female criminals plead insanity as a means of getting away with murder. And juries and judges let them get away with it. Well, that doesn't happen on my watch.

How did I win this case? By using treachery, deceit and manipulation. The same tools criminals use in their trade. The case of the People versus Andrea Yvan was one of the most difficult cases we had all year. It's never easy to prosecute women, especially those who commit horrible crimes. Crimes that defy logic and reasoning. This woman was a wife and a mother. She worked as a paralegal in Boston. She had friends who thought her a wonderful person. Then all of a sudden she snapped. To say this was out of character would have been the understatement of the century. Juries are loathe to convict women. This gender bias has worked in the favor of too many female criminals to count. The Judge in this case was the not-so-honorable Anderson Stephens. He was a big softy. A bleeding-heart liberal. I knew I couldn't rely on him to see that Andrea Yvan was evil, not insane. Lots of people confuse the two. I'm not insane, just kind of evil. But relax, I only go after other evil people.

The Prosecutor's Office didn't feel like giving such an important case to a greenhorn like myself, even though I had never lost a criminal trial. I basically had to beg my boss, district attorney Sharon Marshall, to get it. And even then, she assigned my colleague Jennifer Andrews to second chair. Andrea Yvan had a legion of defense attorneys. Men and women who wore black business suits which could cost me a month's salary. I wasn't impressed or intimidated. Wearing black doesn't intimidate one with a heart of darkness. The case wasn't going well. The judge seemed determined to bend over backwards to please the defense attorneys and I could tell the jury had sympathy for Andrea Yvan. She played the part of the victim all too well. A she-wolf in sheep's clothing. Only I saw her for what she was because I am a monster too.

I followed Judge Stephens around and discovered that like a certain former NYC politician, he liked call girls. He had a favorite one called Cindy. A six-foot blonde with big tits and a big ass. She told me that our dear judge was a man with kinky tastes. He liked to be sodomized by women wearing strap-on dildos. I paid her three grand to videotape one of their sessions. Then I approached the dear judge with the tape the next day. I've never seen such a change of heart. For the rest of the trial, he was on his best behavior. And when the jury found Andrea Yvan not guilty, he went above and beyond the call of duty by setting aside the jury's verdict and entering a finding of guilty. It was unprecedented. Everybody was stunned. I had tears in my eyes. Am I good or what? When I returned to the Prosecutor's Office, I received a promotion, and some champagne. I kept the mask of civility and charm in place during the celebration of my triumph. Truth be told, I couldn't stand these people. I went home to my dogs, and took them for a walk on Boston Common. I've made them the sole beneficiaries of my fortune in the event of my death. I can't stand men or women. But I love animals.

  • Index
  • /
  • Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Non-Erotic
  • /
  • The Prosecutor's Office

All contents © Copyright 1996-2023. Literotica is a registered trademark.

Desktop versionT.O.S.PrivacyReport a ProblemSupport

Version ⁨1.0.2+795cd7d.adb84bd⁩

We are testing a new version of this page. It was made in 88 milliseconds