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By Jim A Parks
As a couples counselor, I have heard about so many different kinks and fetishes that I am no longer shocked. And since I have been trained to see sexual behavior as the outward expression of deeper emotional needs, I rarely consider the mechanics of a given fetish. I am more interested in helping my clients understand each other -- to negotiate the sexual wants and needs of the relationship in a manner that is fair and reasonable for both parties.
Recently, however, I became aware of a couple whose sex life I found more interesting and compelling than any other I had ever come across. The basic fantasy was simple and common enough -- the man enjoyed being a voyeur and the woman enjoyed being his object. But the execution and elaboration of this fantasy was carried to such lengths that it enveloped their entire lives, in and out of the bedroom.
The behavior began early in their marriage of seven years. They had no children. The man told the woman he wanted to pretend he was invisible and for her to go along with it. He would watch her do the dishes after dinner, take a shower, primp in front of the mirror and dress herself in lingerie. This was followed by the woman masturbating in bed while the "invisible" husband looked on, pleasuring himself as well. They both enjoyed this game, which in the early days was followed by very gratifying intercourse. But as the years wore on, the invisibility game became the sole focus of the couple's sex life, with intercourse becoming a rare event. What is more, the game expanded from the bedroom and became part of their entire home life.
The couple rarely communicated verbally anymore. When the man got home from work, he began to act as if the woman lived alone and he was a disembodied spirit observing all her activities. Somehow, through unspoken negotiation, they made the game as elaborate and true-to-life as they could -- and they both found their new life exciting and satisfying. Paradoxically, the couple found that their relationship seemed more intimate, not less. The woman felt that she must be truly and deeply loved if her partner was so fascinated by her mundane activities.
Although the woman never acknowledged her partner's actual existence, she would act like she felt she was being watched. The man would leave hints of his presence around the house -- moved objects, drawers left open. He would steal earrings and knick-knacks from the woman's dresser, returning them after a few days. When the woman discovered these irregularities, she would make expressions of puzzlement and sometimes apprehension. Meals were handled simply enough. The woman would make enough dinner for two, and after she had eaten -- being observed mock-surreptitiously -- the man would go into the kitchen and eat the remainder of the food by himself.
The bedroom activity became more elaborate as well. The woman experimented with various kinds of masturbation, preceded by reading erotic books and magazines or watching X-rated movies. The sexual material she chose really wasn't exciting for her -- but it greatly stimulated her partner. She gaged the man's excitement by what she could observe without directly looking at him. The man's excitement was what truly excited her, and she derived great pleasure from participating in their unspoken sexual dialectic.
One method of communicating with her partner without actually speaking to him was for the woman to write in a journal. The man would hover over her as she wrote, or he would find the journal sitting out somewhere in the house and read it on his own. The woman could make plans in her journal about where she would be and what she would be doing so that her husband would know where to find her. In this way, the husband could carry on his invisible observation outside the house as well. He would follow her from a distance while she shopped for groceries or clothing -- or ride in the back seat of the car as she drove around town.
After several years, though, the woman became dissatisfied with the situation. The way they had arranged their lives to accommodate the game isolated them from friendships and many social activities. Both the woman and the man were introverts, but the man had a more pronounced tendency in that direction. Yet the woman had no idea how to proceed -- how to put the brakes on these activities that had so consumed and dominated their lives. She didn't want to hurt her partner's feelings. What is more, she found that when she tried to speak directly to him, she was unable to voice any words -- such was the power of habit in their silence together.
So she turned to the journal writing. She began to sprinkle little hints about her dissatisfaction among her usual entries:
"At first I enjoyed the feeling that someone was watching me. Whether ghost, spirit, or other disembodied entity, I knew that someone cared enough to pay attention to me. I have come to believe that those who are haunted are the lucky ones. And yet....my life has become consumed with this. I have nothing else. At first, I wanted nothing else. But now I want...I need...more. If only I could communicate openly with this...presence. How do I begin?"
Her partner was obviously reading these entries because the woman began to sense a change in him. She could feel his worried gaze upon her. She would wake up in the middle of the night to find him standing over her. A few times she nearly looked directly at him in her alarm -- but the conditioning of the years prevailed. She wasn't afraid of him -- more afraid for him. The unspoken message from her partner was clearly that he did not want to stop this game, this way of life.
Never before had she felt him stare at her so intently. Normally he slept in a cot next to the bed, but one night he crawled into bed next to her, close but not touching, She was lying on her side, facing away from him. He stayed next to her for several minutes, and she silently awaited his next move. She felt the sensation of his hand on her side, barely touching, but when she finally got up the courage to turn around to face him, he was gone. Off the bed and out of the room.
It was then that the woman made an appointment to see me. I usually like to see both partners, but this isn't always feasible. We met three times over the next two weeks, and I finally told her that though I was willing to see her alone, I really didn't think I could be of much help unless she could get her partner to come to our appointments. I suggested that she could write about our next appointment in her journal, explain her predicament, and maybe her husband would read it and make an appearance.
The man didn't show at first, but when the woman and I had spoken together for around ten minutes, I heard a feint knock on the door. The man entered slowly, looking at the floor. I reached out my hand to shake his, and he made brief eye contact, giving me a small sheepish smile. But not once did he acknowledge the woman. One thing that did surprise me was the couple's size difference. The woman was very tall and of good proportions. Not model-like but quite striking. The man on the other hand appeared to be a full foot shorter, and though not bad looking, he had a withdrawn gray look about him. He had a blandness in dress and appearance that made him appear to fade into the background. Whether he had always looked like this, or whether this appearance developed over the years with his wife, I don't know. They sat next to each other, but neither looked at the other, and there was an awkward silence for a full minute.
"Listen," I finally said to the couple. "It may take a long time to work through this -- if that's what you both want to do. But sometimes even a very long journey requires a jump start. Today, I would like to see you two at least look at each other and say a few words."
I asked the woman, "Do you love your husband?"
The woman slowly looked towards him and said, "Yes, I do....of course I do."
"And how about you?" I asked the man. "Do you love your wife?"
The man slowly raised his head and looked into her eyes. His face flushed with color and tears came into his eyes. His mouth moved but no sound came forth. Suddenly he turned away from her, rose up from his chair and rushed out of the room.
Two weeks passed without hearing from the woman. Concerned, I called her and asked how she was doing. Not well, she said. The man had never come back home after our appointment. She called his office the next day and he hadn't come in. She felt that their separation was for the best, but she was worried about her husband's well-being. After a few days, she had reported him missing to the police. She was constantly worried that she would get a call saying that they had found her husband's body or something like that. She said she would call me if she felt like she really needed some help, but right now she was just wanted to wait and see what happens.
Several months passed before I heard from the woman again. The husband was still missing. No one had seen him or heard from him. He never came back to work. The man's only family was a sister -- she hadn't heard from him, but they rarely spoke anyway. He had no close friends to speak of.
Things were happening around the house that the woman found very disturbing. She began to get the feeling that she was being watched. At first, she thought that maybe she had been watched for so long that there was some sort of carryover -- like feeling a phantom limb after the real one has been removed. But then objects started to disappear from her dresser, clothes from her closet, and they would reappear in different places -- just like when the man had been with her. She was starting to question her sanity.
Thinking the man might be stalking her in some way, she changed the locks on the doors and always made sure to secure the windows. She had a security alarm installed. Yet still the odd events took place. One night after she had gone to bed she felt a presence behind her. She was on her side facing away from where she thought this presence was. She then felt weight on the bed behind her and a warmth and pressure on her back. The feeling of breath was on her neck, sending shivers through her body. She manage to break free from a paralyzing fear and run from the room. She spent that night in a motel.
A few weeks later she got news about her husband. His remains had been found in the desert outside of town. He had committed suicide. Yet the strange occurrences continued in the woman's house, and now she knew for sure it couldn't be her husband somehow tricking her.
I recommended that she see a psychiatrist. I thought maybe her anxiety about the whole situation was producing these hallucinations. The psychiatrist who saw her apparently agreed with me -- he prescribed tranquilizers. The woman said the doctor thought her hallucinations were situational and that she wasn't suffering from any sort of psychosis. Everything else in her life was normal. The odd occurrences happened only at home. Extreme stress and anxiety can produce some very dramatic psychosomatic reactions.
It was over a year before I saw the woman again. I happened to run into her at the grocery store. She looked well enough and seemed cheerful. She told me that she had made peace with her situation. The tranquilizers hadn't stopped the hallucinations -- only deadened her reaction to them. In fact, she no longer thought that they were hallucinations at all. She had begun to feel the way she used to when the man would observe her so intently as she went about her mundane activities around the house. She felt loved and appreciated -- paid attention to. She felt intimate with this presence, whatever it was. She felt fulfilled in all ways she had felt early on in the relationship.
She didn't expect me to believe that the presence and its seeming physical manifestations were caused by some sort of paranormal activity. She didn't know how to explain it. She accepted it and it gave her something she needed. There was a calm conviction in her voice that took the argument out of me.
We parted ways with our shopping carts and I looked back at her one last time at the other end of the grocery aisle. Illuminated by the light of the dairy case, her face seemed to glow.
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I tried to post this with the
"sexually explicit"
warning, but it wouldn't let me
post it that way. I don't think
it's too bad -- but if you think
so, tell Dan Vinik to fix his
website. :)
Comment by
Jim A Parks
12/4/2007 @ 11:09 am
well written and a quite engaging
story.....nice to work phantom limb
in there....
Comment by
davo
12/5/2007 @ 6:59 pm
That has to be the most
interresting story I've read in
years.. Please, give us some
more!!!!!
Comment by
John Silverstone
12/5/2007 @ 7:38 pm
Thanks, guys. I'm excited I
actually finished a story.
Comment by
Jim A Parks
12/7/2007 @ 3:20 pm
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