to
consent to such terrible physical abuse? Was there something flawed in her own
psyche? As for him, she could not bear the idea that she had loved such a
monster.
The pain would not go away. She turned on the bath taps
full blast, then crawled into the tub. The sting of the water made her cry out
with pain. Eventually, as she soaked in the hot water, it diminished somewhat.
She spent a long time in the tub, trying to assemble her thoughts, wondering if
she should see a doctor or call the police.
By sheer will power, she managed to dress and drive herself
home, sustained, she later realized, by her anger and hatred for him.
Feigning a flu, she spent the next few days in bed,
suffering through the uncertainty and agony of self-treatment. She made her
unsuspecting mother call Farley to tell him that she was ill. The next day she
wrote him a terse letter of resignation. He made no attempt to respond in any
way.
* * *
As soon as she was able, she left town on the pretext that
she needed to attend summer school, a decision that surprised her parents but
did not stir their curiosity. It took every bit of her inner resources to cope
with the memory of the incident, especially at the beginning. Was she that
naive, that malleable, that weak? Was Farley that sick that he had no insight
into his own predilections?
Even in the subsequent research she did into this type of
practice, the dictum of the bondage-and-discipline subculture was that no
physical harm should be inflicted. He had gone over the edge. Worse, he had
enjoyed her pain.
There was no way that she could face Farley Lipscomb ever
again. What had been love, certainly infatuation and desire, had turned into
raw hatred.
But not only was this hatred generated against Farley but
against herself for allowing herself to become a tool for his perverse acts.
Only later, after years of self-therapy and reading numerous studies of this
aberration, was she finally able to let go and forgive herself, although never
in her heart could she ever forgive Farley.
But the idea that, if the act had remained a pleasurable
game, she might have accepted it was still troublesome. With Farley the game
had turned nasty, beyond the pale. Nor did knowing that totally mitigate the
shame, the awfulness of it.
For a long time after that incident her desire for sex had
simply disappeared. She dated no one during the remainder of her time in
college. Only gradually did the trauma dissipate although psychic scars
remained. Eventually she reached a point where the memory itself became a kind
of fictional imagining far removed from what had become the reality of her
life.
In time she had stopped thinking about it, perhaps even
denied that it ever happened. It was never again part of her menu of fantasies.
It was as if her psychic immune system had kicked in and flushed out all
visible symptoms of the aberration. Nonetheless, she knew that it had had a
profound effect on her life. Giving up her free will, the power over her mind
and body, became her most frightening nightmare. Any hint of such an event
occuring provoked a strong negative reaction. Perhaps this was why she was
never able to sustain a long-term relationship with a man.
In learning about herself, Fiona recognized her own
powerful sexuality. She did not need to have the envelope pushed that far to
find pleasure and she invariably rejected those who did. Indeed, she had
developed a sixth sense to screen any potential lovers. The slightest
revelation of a similar tendency was enough to abort a relationship without guilt
or explanation.
Ten years after the episode, she had actually been in the
company of Farley Lipscomb and his wife at a dinner party given by one of Washington's most active hostesses. She had greeted both him and his wife with politeness.
Little was exchanged between them. She was suprisingly indifferent to his
presence, as if he, too, had become a fictional character in someone else's
play. Indeed, she savored the
consent to such terrible physical abuse? Was there something flawed in her own
psyche? As for him, she could not bear the idea that she had loved such a
monster.
The pain would not go away. She turned on the bath taps
full blast, then crawled into the tub. The sting of the water made her cry out
with pain. Eventually, as she soaked in the hot water, it diminished somewhat.
She spent a long time in the tub, trying to assemble her thoughts, wondering if
she should see a doctor or call the police.
By sheer will power, she managed to dress and drive herself
home, sustained, she later realized, by her anger and hatred for him.
Feigning a flu, she spent the next few days in bed,
suffering through the uncertainty and agony of self-treatment. She made her
unsuspecting mother call Farley to tell him that she was ill. The next day she
wrote him a terse letter of resignation. He made no attempt to respond in any
way.
* * *
As soon as she was able, she left town on the pretext that
she needed to attend summer school, a decision that surprised her parents but
did not stir their curiosity. It took every bit of her inner resources to cope
with the memory of the incident, especially at the beginning. Was she that
naive, that malleable, that weak? Was Farley that sick that he had no insight
into his own predilections?
Even in the subsequent research she did into this type of
practice, the dictum of the bondage-and-discipline subculture was that no
physical harm should be inflicted. He had gone over the edge. Worse, he had
enjoyed her pain.
There was no way that she could face Farley Lipscomb ever
again. What had been love, certainly infatuation and desire, had turned into
raw hatred.
But not only was this hatred generated against Farley but
against herself for allowing herself to become a tool for his perverse acts.
Only later, after years of self-therapy and reading numerous studies of this
aberration, was she finally able to let go and forgive herself, although never
in her heart could she ever forgive Farley.
But the idea that, if the act had remained a pleasurable
game, she might have accepted it was still troublesome. With Farley the game
had turned nasty, beyond the pale. Nor did knowing that totally mitigate the
shame, the awfulness of it.
For a long time after that incident her desire for sex had
simply disappeared. She dated no one during the remainder of her time in
college. Only gradually did the trauma dissipate although psychic scars
remained. Eventually she reached a point where the memory itself became a kind
of fictional imagining far removed from what had become the reality of her
life.
In time she had stopped thinking about it, perhaps even
denied that it ever happened. It was never again part of her menu of fantasies.
It was as if her psychic immune system had kicked in and flushed out all
visible symptoms of the aberration. Nonetheless, she knew that it had had a
profound effect on her life. Giving up her free will, the power over her mind
and body, became her most frightening nightmare. Any hint of such an event
occuring provoked a strong negative reaction. Perhaps this was why she was
never able to sustain a long-term relationship with a man.
In learning about herself, Fiona recognized her own
powerful sexuality. She did not need to have the envelope pushed that far to
find pleasure and she invariably rejected those who did. Indeed, she had
developed a sixth sense to screen any potential lovers. The slightest
revelation of a similar tendency was enough to abort a relationship without guilt
or explanation.
Ten years after the episode, she had actually been in the
company of Farley Lipscomb and his wife at a dinner party given by one of Washington's most active hostesses. She had greeted both him and his wife with politeness.
Little was exchanged between them. She was suprisingly indifferent to his
presence, as if he, too, had become a fictional character in someone else's
play. Indeed, she savored the
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