M Sellars: All acts of pleasure

Without speaking she reached into the pocket of her coat and extracted her cigarette case. Snapping it open, she peered into the top then closed it and returned it to the pocket.

Looking back at me she said, “I have a little more than a half pack with me. I think we are good.”

I shook my head and almost allowed myself to chuckle at the seriousness with which she had delivered the reply. Had the situation been different, I suspect I wouldn’t have been able to keep from laughing outright.

“Okay, I’ll try to keep it as short a possible,” I began. “About two weeks ago, right at the height of the flu epidemic, Felicity got a call from Ben. Apparently there was a high profile crime scene that needed photos.”

“Judge Wentworth,” Helen interjected.

“Exactly.”

“I know Felicity is a photographer, but why did Benjamin call her? Is that not something that should have been handled by the police?”

“Under normal circumstances, yes. But, the flu had pretty much taken the majority of the Crime Scene guys out of commission. Felicity has evidence photography training, and she’s on the short list of freelance contractors the department calls for specialized techniques, like infrared, painting with light, that sort of thing. Anyway, since the scene was high profile, and the Crime Scene Unit was on a skeleton staff, they decided to bring in a freelancer, so they would know all of the bases were covered.”

“Ahhhh,” Helen nodded. “And, Felicity got the call.”

“Pretty much. From what I understand, they went down the list and she…actually I…was the first one to answer the phone.”

“I see. Sorry to interrupt. Please, go on.”

“Not a problem. Anyway, I’m sure you’ve probably seen some of the news reports, so you’re aware that Wentworth’s body was found in a motel in a bit of a compromising situation?”

“Yes, of course. As I recall it had something to do with bondage, did it not?”

“Yeah. Apparently Wentworth was into the whole kidnap and torture game. No biggie in my book. I mean, whatever does it for you as long as it’s between consenting adults. Problem is, it looks like something went way south with the scenario because he was found with the back of his head sprayed all over the bathroom wall.”

Helen held up her hand, “Please…consider yourself free to spare me those sorts of details unless you really feel them to be important.”

“Sorry,” I apologized. “I didn’t realize you were squeamish.”

“Only about certain things, but that is all right. Continue.”

“Okay, well our first thought was that he had been purposely executed, but something didn’t feel right about the scene to either Felicity or me.”

“What were you doing there?”

“Helping Felicity.”

“Helping her, Rowan, or trying to protect her?”

I looked over the top of my glasses at Helen. “Does anything get past you?”

“Usually, no.”

“Okay, guilty. Either way, I was there and the whole scene just felt weird. You could actually sense the sexual arousal and such in the room, but that wasn’t what struck us. The bizarre thing was that there was no lingering sense of fear, like you would expect if the whole scenario had been a real kidnapping. Still, Ben didn’t rule it out because the whole thing could have been a setup. Plus, while he listens to me when I say I have a feeling, as we know, not everyone else does.

“Anyhow, since Wentworth was actually known to have a history with prostitutes that had been getting swept under the carpet for a while, he looked into it. After doing a little digging, it came to light that the whole kidnap and torture victim fetish was his particular kink. So, things added up in that respect, but there was still something weird going on.”

“How so?”

“Felicity,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone. “She started acting strange. It began with her acting…well…kind of…I guess the only delicate way to put it is sex starved. She was just plain insatiable. And, if that weren’t enough, she turned into a complete bitch.”

“Bitch?” Helen echoed. “That is certainly not a word I would have ever expected you to use in conjunction with your wife, Rowan.”

“Tell me about it, but that’s what happened. She would actually get herself aroused by berating me, or in some instances, by actually physically abusing me.”

“I believe I see a rather obvious connection with your nightmare now.”

“Yeah,” I grunted. “Kind of brings it all into focus, doesn’t it? Anyway, it was at about this time that I found out my dear, sweet wife actually has a history with the BDSM community.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?” I repeated, slightly puzzled. “You don’t seem particularly surprised by that.”

“Actually, I was already aware of it.”

Slight puzzlement became brow-furrowing confusion. “I’m sorry? I’m not sure I heard you correctly.”

“Remember, Rowan. Felicity has sought my counsel as well. She shared her proclivities with me quite some time ago.”

“Well, that’s interesting,” I said in a mild huff. “Because she never bothered to tell me.”

“Until now, obviously.”

“Well, yeah.”

“And did she give you a reason why she did not tell you before now?”

“What she said is that she was afraid I might not be open to the idea and that I would stop loving her.”

“Yes. That was her concern when she spoke of it to me.”

“But, she knows me better than that.”

“Does she?”

“Of course she does.”

“Contrary to what you may believe, Rowan, everyone has secrets. They do not necessarily keep them secret to harm or injure. Sometimes they do so in order to protect. You are a perfect example.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. How often have you lied, or simply twisted the truth, in order to protect Felicity from what you perceived as harm?”

“That’s different,” I objected.

“Actually, no it is not. You are simply too close to see that.”

“Maybe,” I half-agreed. “But she lied to me about our relationship.”

“No, Rowan, she did not. She simply repressed one of her own desires in order to protect her relationship with you. She never lied.”

“You’re splitting hairs.”

“No, I am stating a fact.”

“Okay, fine,” I said with a nod. In my heart I knew she was correct, so further objections wouldn’t do any good. “So, what else did she tell you?”

“I am not at liberty to discuss that. Her sessions with me are confidential, as are yours.”

“But you just…”

She cut me off. “I simply told you something you already knew, because she had told you herself. Please, do not ask any more about things you know I cannot discuss. Now, continue your story.”

“I’m not sure that I’m comfortable with that, given what you just…”

“Rowan, you need not worry. Your wife adores you, which is the very reason she repressed this aspect of her sexuality to begin with. Believe me when I tell you there is nothing else you need to know. Now, please…go on.”

“Well, I don’t really see the point…”

“I, however, do.”

“Okay,” I huffed. “Anyway, things really escalated a couple of days later when Officer Hobbes was found dead in a motel. This time there was absolutely no question about the whole B and D, S and M thing. All of the trappings were right there in plain sight. But, this time there was a new twist to the scene. Artifacts were present that lead me to believe some sort of convoluted Voodoo ritual had taken place.”

“Voodoo?”

“Yeah, Voodoo. Well, a horribly bastardized version of it really. I’ll leave out the gorier details since you asked me to, but let’s just say it was twisted. What happened in that room may have started out as consensual sex play, but that’s not how it ended. It also didn’t have anything to do with true Vodoun religious practice…it was just sick…