The President's Club, Chapter 9


 Sam had released her from her stringent bondage after she 

 had fainted.  He didn’t want to put her through another 

 night of having to sleep standing up.  He had massaged her 

 wrists and legs with his special soothing lotion he had 

 used before, but, as with the stripes on her back, the 

 marks would last for days, especially those between her 

 legs and cunt lips where the rough rope had rubbed the 

 tender skin almost raw.  She was very tender in her nether 

 regions.  The salve didn’t help when that much of the 

 protective layers of the skin were damaged and the nerves 

 almost exposed.

 

 She stirred on the bed.  He stopped what he was doing and 

 went over to stand by the bed.  She looked up at him, the 

 focus in her eyes far away.  A grin slowly came to her lips 

 when she was able to bring him into focus.  He had removed 

 his clothes while he has whipped her and had not bothered 

 to dress after she had fainted.  Reaching over to him, she 

 grabbed his prick firmly.

 

 “More,” she said.  It was neither a question nor a demand.  

 

 “More?”  Sam’s voice cracked when he spoke, causing them 

 both to crack up.

 

 "You promised."

 

 "I know I did.  I just want to be sure you’re OK."

 

 She turned a defiant eye to his tender one.  "You 

 promised!" she repeated, this time emphatically.  “You 

 promised you would fuck me after.”  She looked up at him 

 and he could see the desperation in her eyes.  “Pleeease?”

 

 He sighed as he lay down beside her on the bed.  His hands 

 floated over her body, slowly arousing her, bringing her to 

 the edge repeatedly.  His lips suckled at her tits, his 

 tongue flicking over the gold rings.  It was a novel 

 sensation for her, and it drove her to the brink as easily 

 as his feathery touches to her raw clit.  

 

 When he took her, he treated her with extreme care.  It was 

 much too gentle for her taste.  She eased her body out from 

 under him and pushed him over on his back.  Her sore 

 muscles screamed at her actions but she was determined to 

 have him her way.  She lifted her leg up and over his torso 

 and settled down over him, straddling his hips.  She froze, 

 squeezing her eyes shut.  It hurt so good she almost 

 fainted.

 

 Karin laid her palms on his shoulders and pressed down, 

 resting on her straightened arms.  She kept her eyes closed 

 and breathed deeply several times, willing the pain into 

 the background.  He lay still under her, his prick nestled 

 between her pussy and his body.  She had not yet gotten to 

 the point of sliding back and inserting him into her pussy.  

 Even so, he was amazed at her determination and stamina to 

 get this far.  Against his dominant instincts, he decided 

 to let her set the pace this time.  He was completely 

 satisfied with their trip so far, having satisfied his dark 

 needs for inflicting pain and domination.  This rest was 

 gravy for him.

 

 With a catch in her breath, she raised her pelvis up off 

 his stomach.  She reached beneath her, feeling between 

 their bodies.  She carefully positioned his fat cock head 

 against the tight opening of her cunt.  She pushed back 

 firmly, crying out to the darkened gloom, and fully seated 

 herself on his saddle horn.  Pleasure mixed with pain 

 flooded her senses as she was filled with his hot pulsing 

 meat.  

 

 Karin just sat there for the longest time.  This fucking 

 thing was so new to her, and his cock was so massive, she 

 still needed time to adjust to it filling her.  When he was 

 inside her, deep and hard as he was now, she could think of 

 nothing else.  She could feel nothing else.  The fullness, 

 the completeness pushed all other feelings out of her mind.  

 She blushed as she realized that when he filled her, she 

 became a cunt.  Just a cunt.  A living, throbbing hole that 

 needed to be satisfied.  She could feel his slow steady 

 heart beat through his prick, a drummer in counterpoint to 

 her own rapid beat.

 

 Giving in to base urges with a groan, she rocked back and 

 forth on his erection, establishing a rhythm that matched 

 the beat of her inner drummer.  Sam lay passive beneath 

 her, content to be along for the ride.  He kept a close eye 

 out for any signs of distress in her, however.  It took a 

 lot away from his enjoyment, but he felt responsible that 

 she not be injured.

 

 Karin opened her eyes and saw his concerned, but happy 

 face.  She leaned forward to kiss his forehead, then his 

 eyes, then his nose and finally his lips.  As she kissed 

 him, her dangling tits brushed up against the hairs on his 

 chest.  The over-sensitized buds sent thrills coursing 

 through her as she shimmied her shoulders to sway her 

 breasts sexily over his chest as they kissed.

 

 Breaking the kiss, she burrowed her face into his neck.  

 "Thank you," came her muffled voice.

 

 "You're welcome!" he answered, then asked, puzzled, "For 

 what?"

 

 She pulled his hands up to cup her breasts, the gold nipple 

 rings burning into his palms form the heat between them.  

 

 "For these."

 

 “Oh?  Why is that something to thank me for?"  He was 

 teasing her, but wanted her to verbalize what she was 

 thinking.

 

 "Because I'll always have these to remember our time 

 together.  Even when the aches and pains are gone, I will 

 have these.  So, ‘Thank You, Sir.’"

 

 "Oh.  OK."

 

 "Sir?” she asked a little later.

 

 He nodded for her to continue.

 

 “Sir, I know your name isn't Sam, but that's OK with me.  I 

 really don't need to know.  It sort of adds to the 

 mystery."  She continued, twisting his chest hairs around 

 her finger.  She was fascinated with them.  "If you need 

 me, you know who I am and where I live.  I want you to know 

 that you will always be welcome there, even if you just 

 want to talk.  I'd love to visit the cabin again, anytime 

 you want .... or need."  Her fingers dug into his 

 pectorals, emphasizing her last point.

 

 He felt shamed and elated the same time.  He had not 

 planned to reveal his identity to her.  It was a sort of 

 tradition.  The members of the President’s Club had agreed 

 that when they brought ‘special’ dates, the dates were not 

 to know any of their identities.  Special dates, which 

 Karin had been, sometimes experienced unexpected advances 

 from their escorts.  Sam always made sure each woman he 

 escorted to the annual event knew what to expect before 

 they engaged in anything.  He also stopped at the first 

 refusal to continue, but some of the others members of the 

 Club had been known to get a little out of hand.  Sam was a 

 firm believer that ‘No’ meant ‘No.’  

 

 He had not heard that particular word on this phenomenal 

 weekend.  Karin had refused him nothing, at great cost to 

 her body.  He had used her in every way possible.  He had 

 marked her with his own nipple rings.  Yes, she was a 

 special girl, but not the kind he had thought initially.  

 He had taken, but not given in return.  She had nailed his 

 sexual needs on the head and accepted them.  Hell, she had 

 encouraged him to break through his own fears about his 

 dark obsession and to accept it himself.  Now she was 

 giving him the future.  No questions asked.  No demands.

 

 It was an uncomfortable moment.  He wasn’t sure if she 

 wanted him to say something.  He was afraid if he did open 

 his mouth, he would end up professing his undying love for 

 her.  As much as he felt that was the truth, he also knew 

 that these weekends were highly charged emotional events.  

 What he felt now, he might not feel next week, next month, 

 next year.  He had only just met her, and, well... Oh, 

 SHIT!  It sounded just as empty to him the second time when 

 he reviewed it.  It was as obvious a rationalization as he 

 had ever heard.  He was glad he had not said anything.  

 

 Sam laid his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes.  

 Her pussy was still milking his prick as she lay on top of 

 him, watching his inner struggle as it played out on his 

 face.  She had hoped, well, that she would at least find 

 out his name.  It had been worth a shot.  She could always 

 just think of him as ‘Sam’ until he decided to tell her his 

 real name.  What was important now was that their time 

 together was quickly ending.  She wanted to make the most 

 of it.

 

 She latched on to his chin with her sharp white teeth, 

 shaking her head like a terrier.  With her arms, she 

 grabbed him to her soft breasts.  She stretched her legs 

 out straight behind her.  Rolling onto her side, a firm 

 grasp on his cock with her hungry cunt, she whispered to 

 him, her manner urgent, "Fuck me, Sam, Fuck me hard!"

 

 He completed the roll she had started and settled her on 

 her back.  He leaned on her pelvis heavily, wanting to 

 irritate the raw flesh there.  She lifted her knees to her 

 chest to give him even greater access to her pussy, daring 

 him to do his worst, or best, to her.  Incited, he reached 

 down, grabbed her ankles and bent them up beside her head.  

 Her positioned lifted her hips off the bed, and put her wet 

 canal in a perfect line with his raging cock.  When he 

 drove down into her cunt with all his weight, he bottomed 

 out and stretched her cunt wall to a new size.  

 

 He kept his promise to fuck her hard, and long.  He had 

 come several times over the course of the last three days. 

 Although his prick was rock hard, he felt confident that he 

 was going to be able to draw this last fuck out for a long 

 time.

 

 It turned out to be not as long as he had hoped.  Her 

 magical cunt muscles began squeezing and milking his prick 

 as soon as she began to climax.  She screamed out her 

 ecstasy with each peak lasting several minutes.  Before 

 long, her sexual excitement infected him and he began to 

 pump his final load into her, his rod swelling as he 

 peaked.  He grunted and stiffened as she screamed for him 

 to empty his spurting cock into her.  Spent, he collapsed 

 on her sweaty body.  His deflating prick slipped from deep 

 inside her body.  Sadness settled over the two lovers at 

 the climax to their time at the cabin.  It had truly been a 

 special time.  They held each other tightly, even as they 

 drifted into a sound asleep.

 

 Sam and Karin drove back to the city in sated silence early 

 the next morning.  They had made love once more, but it had 

 been almost an anti-climax.  The urgency was gone, both of 

 their compulsions had been satisfied, for the moment, at 

 least.  Sam had brought along loose sweat shirt and sweat 

 pants for her to wear back to the city, correctly guessing 

 that those soft loose garments wouldn't irritate her skin.  

 At first light, Karin had teased and dared him into the icy 

 waters of the pool before they left for the city.  They had 

 skinny dipped like innocent teenagers, splashing and 

 dunking each other with wild abandon.  She was strong 

 enough to give him back as good as she got.  When he broke 

 through the icy surface, gasping for air after she had 

 dunked him again for the umpteenth time, he cried ‘uncle.’  

 Staggering ashore, they collapsed on the bank in peals of 

 laughter.  He had never enjoyed himself more at the cabin.

 

 His cellular telephone started ringing as soon as he came 

 into range of a cell.  That was a bad sign.  He had had his 

 secretary reschedule all of his meetings indefinitely.  She 

 was one of the few former visitors to the cabin and 

 understood there was no schedule, no timetable for these 

 things.  That someone needed him urgently enough to auto-

 redial his cell phone could only mean a major international 

 client was in big trouble.  That’s all he dealt with, the 

 major accounts.

 

 His mind switched automatically to business mode as he hit 

 the Send button to answer his phone.  Karin sat beside him 

 quietly as he drove, listening quietly, not interrupting.  

 She knew she didn’t have to tease or pester him for 

 attention like an adolescent would have.  She sensed his 

 affection for her.  When he was ready, when he needed her, 

 he would come back to her.  He hadn’t said so in so many 

 words, but she knew.

 

 She closed her eyes, listening to his side of the 

 conversation.  “...I’ve been out of town.  Personal. ... 

 No, no, I’m fine.  Never better, in fact. .... Hong Kong?  

 .... Ouch!  ... That bad, huh?  ...  Have my secretary go 

 to my apartment and pack a bag. ... Yeah, she knows, she’s 

 done it before.  Knowing her she’s already there waiting 

 with it. ... Yes, she’s that good and, no you can’t have 

 her. ... The flight leaves in 45 minutes? ... Well, if I 

 push it, I can just make it. ... Right. ... Talk to you 

 from Hong Kong.”

 

 Just as he finished speaking, they pulled up in front of 

 her apartment.  She leaned over, gave him a quick peck on 

 the cheek, and said, “Go on now.  I know you’re in a 

 hurry.”  She jumped out of the car and closed the door 

 before he could say a word.  His mind was already on the 

 disaster he was going to have to deal with.  He knew there 

 was something he wanted to say to her, but she was gone and 

 out of the car before he had a chance to get his mind in 

 gear.  He waved good bye to her and grinned as she mouthed 

 ‘Thank You’ as he drove out of sight.

 

 He was about 10,000 feet in the air when it came to him.  

 “Shit!” he exclaimed, causing the first class attendant to 

 spill a drink on the squalling brat two rows up.  He had 

 intended to tell Karin his name.  He made a note to tell 

 his secretary to contact her.  She would understand.  She 

 had been there before.

 

 At the same time the flight attendant was dousing the 

 passenger, Karin was echoing his 'Shit,' albeit under her 

 breath.

 

 She had walked up to her apartment.  The future looked 

 bright.  For the first time in her life, she felt loved.  

 She had found a man, her man, and he needed her.  She 

 wandered aimlessly around the apartment, running her hands 

 over the leather chair they had put to such good use.  She 

 could still see the crusty stains of their mingled cum 

 juices.  She found herself in the bedroom, tightly holding 

 onto the homemade whip and absently snapping the 

 clothespins when the knock came at the door.

 

 She opened it with a wide smile, thinking her ‘Sam’ had 

 thrown his career out the window and had come back to ride 

 off into the sunset with his true love.  The smile faded, 

 as she looked at the two large men in ill-fitting blue 

 suits standing at the door.  Each was holding up a badge.  

 

 “Mrs. Saunders?  Mrs. Karin Saunders?” the taller of the 

 two asked her.

 

 “Yes, I’m Karin Saunders.”

 

 “Ma’am, I’m Sgt. Wilson, this is Sgt. Hague.  We’d like you 

 to come downtown with us to answer some questions.”  

 

 Karin had never had any contact with the authorities.  She 

 didn’t ask why, she didn’t even think of refusing.  She 

 simply sighed, stepped into the hallway, closing the door 

 behind her, and went with the two officers.

 

 An hour later, she sat in the interrogation room in shock.  

 From the gist of the questions, she had pieced together 

 that something had happened to Bill.  She had been so 

 relieved it hadn’t been Sam.  But they kept hounding her 

 and hounding her for where she was the last four days, why 

 had she moved out of the house, who did the apartment 

 belong to, and on and on.  The tall man did all the 

 talking.  The other one, the older one, just stood against 

 the wall, glaring at her.  He scared her.

 

 Sgt. Wilson, the junior of the two officers, was doing all 

 the talking to keep his partner from loosing his badge.  

 Sgt. Hague had known Bill Saunders for years and considered 

 him a good friend.  He had never met the new wife, and all 

 Bill had ever said to him about their sudden marriage was 

 that it had been a big mistake.  He had called her a ‘gold-

 digger.’  Bill had jokingly brushed it all off with some 

 raunchy comments about her insatiable sex drive or 

 something, which made everyone laugh and a little jealous 

 of him, too.

 

 Sgt. Hague was taking Bill’s murder particularly hard.  He 

 had not asked to be assigned to the case, in fact, he had 

 tried to explain that he couldn’t do a good job because of 

 his friendship with the victim.  Their lieutenant, a real 

 hard-assed bitch, had noted his concern and assigned him 

 the case anyway.  He knew better than to question her 

 decision.  The last guy who had dared to challenge her was 

 still writing parking tickets.  Not wishing the same fate, 

 Sgt. Hague had thrown himself into the case, and it had 

 solved itself.

 

 A search of the house had revealed a fully stocked woman’s 

 closet with most of the tags still hanging from the never-

 worn clothes.  What they didn’t find were toiletries, 

 underwear or personal effects.  The young new wife was 

 nowhere to be found.  A wider search of Bill’s properties 

 had turned up evidence of someone living in one of the 

 vacant apartments in one of the unused warehouses, but a 

 two-day stakeout had turned up nothing.  Convinced she had 

 fled the city they had set a trip alarm on the door on the 

 outside chance someone would up.  In their experience, 

 persons who committed domestic crimes were pretty stupid 

 when it came to police procedures.  The didn’t really think 

 anyone would be dumb enough to go back to their hideout.  

 They were surprised when the alarm had gone off.  They were 

 even more surprised when it turned out that the intruder 

 who had set the alarm off was their suspect.

 

 For the next 12 hours Karin Saunders was questioned over 

 and over about her whereabouts and who she had been with 

 the last 3-4 days.  Nothing was said about why she was 

 there.  Sgt. Hague really wanted the bitch to trip herself 

 up and say something incriminating.  It was a surprise to 

 the young wife, therefore, when she was booked for the 

 murder of her husband at the end of those 12 long grueling 

 hours.  She had not confessed, but in twelve hours of 

 intense questioning, she had never told them where she had 

 been, whom she had been with, no alibis, no witnesses, 

 nothing.  Even more convincing in the minds of the officers 

 was the fact that she had never once, in the entire twelve 

 hours, asked for or referred to her husband.  She had never 

 asked for a lawyer.  To them, that told them she was 

 guilty, that she already knew he was dead.  They had not 

 released the news of his death, so it had never made the 

 news.  She knew about it, because she had done it.

 

 Lt. Sandra Billings, the ‘hard-assed bitch,’ had watched 

 the last 4 hours of the interrogation from behind the one-

 way mirror.  It didn't look good for Mrs. Karin Saunders.  

 She was the only suspect, and, as her husband’s spouse and 

 the sole beneficiary of a multimillion-dollar life 

 insurance policy as well as the sole heir to his business 

 empire, things didn't look at all good for her at all.  The 

 evidence the police had put together, her lack of an alibi, 

 well, the lady was in deep shit.

 

 But something didn’t sit quite right.  She had read the 

 reports as they had come in.  At first, this had been just 

 another routine murder investigation, and it looked like it 

 was going to fall into the same domestic violence category 

 that 85% of the other murders in their city did.  On a 

 routine visit to the interrogation area, however, she noted 

 something odd about the suspect.  She couldn’t put her 

 finger on it, but something piqued her curiosity.  She 

 didn’t leave the window until Karin was taken downstairs in 

 handcuffs for booking.  She hadn’t contradicted her 

 officers’ recommendation to arrest Mrs. Saunders, but she 

 was convinced she was innocent.

 

 Karin was numb, in a state of shock.  She had been since 

 she had heard the words, ‘You’re under arrest for the 

 murder of William Saunders.’  Bill was dead.  Sam was in 

 Hong Kong.  She was all-alone, with no one to turn to.  

 

 She had tried to tell them everything as honestly as she 

 could.  But she didn’t know anything.  They didn’t believe 

 her.  Especially the mean one, Sgt. Hague.    She didn't 

 know who Sam really was, or where she had been at the ball 

 or where the cabin was, so she never said anything about 

 them.  She had no alibi for her time and didn't want to go 

 into too many details about her recent activities.  They 

 didn’t believe her when she explained that Bill had 

 arranged for her to move into the apartment.  

 

 She was fingerprinted, photographed and taken to the 

 women's section of the county jail, pending a hearing.  It 

 was when she was strip-searched that the first tangible 

 evidence that questioned her guilt came up.  Lt. Billings 

 had personally escorted her up to the woman’s floor.  The 

 other female employees qualified to escort a felony suspect 

 were all out of the building.  Lt. Billings didn’t mind.  

 She wanted to get a better handle on this quiet woman.  She 

 just didn’t fit the profile.

 

 The women's guard assigned to book her at the jail had just 

 been severely reprimanded for using excessive force on 

 another inmate, so Lt. Billings was standing just out side 

 the cubicle during the search.  When the guard had seen the 

 fresh marks on Karin's body, she knew she should have 

 called Lt. Billings into the examination area right then.  

 She didn’t want anything to do with this new cunt.  She 

 also suspected Lt. Billings of trying to set her up.  She 

 had heard stories about the ‘iron bitch.’  Instead, she 

 proceeded with search, taking extra care to be gentle.  

 Karin’s pained cry, however, when her well-lubricated 

 gloved finger entered her vagina for a cavity search 

 brought the lieutenant into the cubicle, eyes blazing.

 

 What she saw made her gasp.  Ugly blue bruises and red 

 welts covered what should have been a gorgeous body from 

 the neck to her ankles, front and back.  

 

 The guard immediately began to protest.  “It wasn’t me that 

 did this, Lt.  Honest!  I was just doin’ my job and the 

 cunt screamed.  I even used a glove and grease and 

 everything.  See?”  She held out the soiled latex glove for 

 her to inspect.

 

 Lt. Billings turned to the guard.  “Oh, shut up!  You 

 didn’t have time to do all this damage.  I want you to go 

 get an evidence camera.  Now!”

 

 Lt. Billings had Karin stand in the classic ‘up against the 

 wall’ search position with her arms outstretched and her 

 legs spread, but this time Karin was naked.  She 

 photographed the various bruises and rope marks on her 

 body.  Then she posed her so she could photograph the 

 brutalized front areas.  When she was finished taking 

 evidence, she tossed her prison garb on the table.

 

 "You can get dressed, Mrs. Saunders."

 

 Karin pulled the shapeless garb carefully over her tender 

 flesh.

 

 "Sit down."

 

 Karin sat, waiting.  She was terribly embarrassed at the 

 exam.  She dreaded the line of questions that she knew were 

 coming.

 

 "Did your husband beat you?" the lieutenant started out.

 

 Karin thought back to the scene in the basement.  “Yes, 

 once."

 

 “Did you report it?”

 

 Karin looked quizzical.  “No, why?  Should I have?”

 

 The interrogator ignored her questions.  "Did he do this to 

 you then?"  She indicated the Polaroid photos she had just 

 taken of the bruises and marks on Karin’s body. 

 

 "No, he didn’t do that to me."

 

 "Oh.  If he didn’t, who did this to you?"

 

 "I ... I, uh, don’t know."

 

 Lt. Sandra Billings leaned forward and examined her head 

 carefully for signs of a blindfold.  She didn’t see any, 

 but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been hooded.  "You didn't 

 see who did this to you?"

 

 Karin answered slowly, reluctantly.  "Oh, yes.  I saw him.   

 I just don’t know who he is.  He used a fake name.  He told 

 me his name was ‘Sam’, but it wasn't really."

 

 "How did you meet him?"

 

 "It’s kind of a long story, lieutenant.  But I guess, well, 

 Bill never said, but I think Bill owed him a lot of money 

 or something.  It had to do with his business.  He never 

 involved me in his business stuff.  Until this time.  Bill 

 just wanted me to go to a dance with this guy, Sam."

 

 "He used you to pay a debt to this mystery man?  You mean 

 he sold you, or your services?  Like a pimp?"

 

 "Oh, no!  Well, yeah, I guess so, but it wasn't like that.  

 More like a date than, than that."  She looked up at the 

 female detective.  “Honest, ma’am!  I’m not a prostitute!  

 He just needed my help.  It was more like a loan, I 

 guess...  I’m not making much sense, am I.” 

 

 “So your husband ‘loaned’ you out to this Sam character to 

 cover a bad debt or something, right?”

 

 “Well, yeah, I guess.  But when you put it like that, it 

 sounds so dirty.  It really wasn’t like that.  The dance 

 was so nice, the band was great, and Sam is a real good 

 dancer.”  Karin sighed to herself, in spite of her 

 circumstances.

 

 “Let’s stay on track here, OK?  So, when you wouldn’t sleep 

 with this guy, ‘Sam,’ after he sprung for the dinner and 

 the dance, he beat you up, right?”

 

 “Oh, no, I didn’t say that.  We didn’t go to dinner.”

 

 Lt. Billings gritted her teeth.  She wished this dunderhead 

 could get with the program.  “Right, no dinner.  So, after 

 the dance, right? he got angry because you wouldn’t put out 

 him.  Is that better?”

 

 “Well, not exactly.”  She flinched at the officers 

 exasperated glare.  “He didn’t get angry at all.  He was 

 very gentle and kind.  You see, well, I kind of, well, ...” 

 she finally just spit it out, “... I asked him to spank me 

 and tie me up.  He was really very gentle with me.”

 

 Lt. Billings stared at the young woman in disbelief.  “You 

 asked him to do this?  And you call this ‘gentle’?”

 

 “Yes.”  That peculiar look of a woman in love was in 

 Karin’s eyes as she remembered her lover’s affections.  

 

 “This looks like more than a spanking.  How did this 

 happen?”

 

 “Well, after he spanked me and, uh, stuff, we went to a 

 place he has up in the mountains.  I, uh, I made him do 

 this to me.  It wasn’t his fault.  Really, he couldn’t help 

 it.”

 

 Lt. Billings just about choked on that one.  "You <made> 

 him do this to you?  Are you telling me you enjoyed this, 

 this, this beating?" she asked.  The detective was getting 

 more incredulous with each new revelation.

 

 "Oh, he didn't just beat me.  He tied me up real tight - 

 the way I like - and he fucked me a couple of times.  Oh, 

 and he let me suck him off, too."

 

 "Oh, he <let> you do that, too, did he?"  Even with all her 

 experience, she would never have come up with this story.  

 It just kept getting better and better.  If it weren’t so 

 obvious that she was telling the truth, she would have 

 reserved her a room on the Psycho Ward.  

 

 "Uh-huh.  I hadn’t ever done that before, so he let me try 

 it.  It was nice."  She blushed at her admissions.

 

 The coloring of the suspect’s face did not escape the 

 questioning woman.  In fact, the girl’s innocence stirred 

 something in her.  But there was still something missing in 

 her story.  A question they had missed.  Something so 

 simple it was obvious.  She kept on.  Maybe it would turn 

 up.  “OK.  Your husband sent you on a date with this guy, 

 Sam, right?  Didn’t he mind if you had sex with another 

 man?”

 

 Karin sat stunned at that question.  She had not thought of 

 it like that.  “Uh.  I’m not sure.  He told me to be very 

 nice to Sam and do whatever he wanted.  I guessed he meant 

 that I was supposed to have sex with him if that was what 

 Sam wanted.  He didn’t really care if I had sex with 

 another man, I don’t think.  It’s not like he never did.  

 Besides, we hadn’t ever done it together, you know, with 

 each other.”

 

 “You’re telling me that you and your husband never had sex.  

 And you were married for six months.  Is that true?”

 

 Karin blushed again, looking down at the battered table.  

 “Uh-huh.”

 

 “And you’re telling me that he had sex with other women, 

 and you knew about it?”  The detective could smell motive 

 written all over this now.  Her estimation of the suspect’s 

 innocence was taking a nosedive.

 

 Karin blushed an even deeper scarlet.  “Huh-uh,” she said, 

 shaking her head ‘no.’  “He didn’t sleep with other women.  

 He slept with other men.  He was gay.”

 

 The room was silent as this small nuclear bomb went off.  

 Lt. Billings stared at the weeping widow.  Where had they 

 missed this minor piece of information?  She reviewed the 

 data in her head.  She was sure Sgt. Hague vouched for the 

 guy’s sexual preferences, but then again, those could be 

 faked in certain circumstances.  Macho guys like Hague just 

 didn’t expect guys they liked to be gay.  He could have 

 been easily misled.  She made a note to speak to him about 

 that.  

 

 The detective sat shaking her head.  As crazy as it was, no 

 one in their right mind would make up or admit to a story 

 like that, but the marks were fresh enough to back up her 

 story and give her the alibi she needed.  Slim as it was.  

 They still needed to identify and question this ‘Sam’ 

 character.  Lt. Billings was going to question that bastard 

 herself.  

 

 "You know you’re going to have to stay with us for a while, 

 Mrs. Saunders.  We’ll have to check out the things that you 

 have told us.  You seem to have an alibi for the time, but 

 I can’t rule out the motive.  I’m truly sorry.  I will see 

 that you are not put in with the other inmates.  I think I 

 know just the guard to assign to your case to insure that 

 you are left alone."  Her face was hard as she called in 

 the frightened guard to the small interrogation room.

 

 She turned to the guard.  “Mrs. Saunders will be staying 

 with us for a while.  I am making it your responsibility to 

 see that she is not bothered by the other guests in our 

 ‘hotel,’ is that clear.  You will report to me personally 

 on this.  If I hear of one finger laid on this woman, it 

 will be your job.  And you may very likely find yourself on 

 the other side of the bars.  Is that understood?”

 

 The frightened guard paled visibly.  She had heard the 

 stories of the ruined careers this pushy bitch had left in 

 her wake.  She turned to the still weeping woman, holding 

 out her hand to help her up.

 

 “Would the solitary cell be OK, Lt. Billings?  It’s empty 

 at the moment, and right beside the guard station.  She 

 would be safe there, ma’am, if that’s fine with you?”

 

 Sandra Billings nodded, preoccupied with some other 

 questions.  One question in particular.  On a whim, she 

 asked the now excited woman, "Uh, by the way, Mrs. 

 Saunders?  Do you know if anyone was supposed to visit your 

 husband last weekend?"

 

 "I don’t know.  I do know he had visitors all the time when 

 he wasn’t traveling on business. I hadn’t lived at the 

 house for about two-three weeks.  I was moved out just 

 after they beat me.  He never introduced his visitors to 

 me, so I wouldn’t know who they were, anyway.  But why 

 don’t you ask Bruce?  He usually took care of all of those 

 things for Bill."

 

 The second nuke silenced the room again.

 

 "Uh, Bruce?  Who's Bruce ...” asked the lieutenant 

 cautiously.  It wasn’t uncommon for cornered spouses to 

 blame the first person to come to mind.  But, she hadn’t 

 accused him.  This was the first time this name had come 

 up.  There were beginning to be too many suspects, now.  

 She continued, “... and what do you mean 'they' beat you?  

 I thought your husband beat you."

 

 "Bruce, uh, I don’t know his last name.  But, Bruce, you 

 know.  Bruce is the butler.  Or, at least, that's what Bill 

 called him.  He was really Bill's lover.  He lives at the 

 mansion.  You could ask him who was there.

 

 “Anyway, it was the two of them that strung me up in the 

 basement and beat me.  They said it was to get me to go out 

 with Sam, but all they would have had to do was ask me.  I 

 know I said that Bill beat me, but I think Bruce did most 

 of the actual beating," she said, defensive of her dead 

 husband.  Karin also left out the part about the toilet 

 plunger handle rape.

 

 Bells went off in Lt. Billing’s brain.  A lover!  A new 

 suspect!  With a motive!  Hot damn!  And there hadn't been 

 a trace of him in the house, which meant he was probably on 

 the run.  He had a three-day head start, but she was the 

 long arm of the law.

 

 Sandra Billings picked up her cellular phone and made 

 several calls.  By the time Karin left for her cell in the 

 woman’s wing, a full autopsy on Bill had been ordered, his 

 physician contacted, and a nation-wide search for the 

 missing butler had been initiated.  

 

 It took ten days, but all charges against Karin were 

 dropped.  She had spent those ten days without speaking to 

 a single person.  The only person she saw was the abusive 

 guard, who was so obsequious and solicitous, it made Karin 

 wince to see her come into with the cell with her tray of 

 food.

 

 She left the county facility and stood on the sidewalk 

 outside.  She had nowhere to go, and no way to get there.  

 Her world had been shattered by recent events.

 

 It was suddenly very dark outside.