"Shall we get started?" Benjamin asked from beside me. When did he get there? He was watching my face with that same smile. I got the feeling that he was analyzing me.

I turned to face him. It was hard to reconcile him with what I had seen him do. This was Benjamin. I didn't want to believe it, but there was no mistaking what I had seen and heard. That innocent smile. Does he think that I don't remember?

"Why don't we sit down?" he asked. I sat down on the sofa. "You can lay down if that makes you more comfortable," he suggested, sitting down in the chair opposite me. Hell no! There's no way that I'm going to lay down!

"I'm fine," I said, thankful that a coffee table was separating us.

"Do you remember your dream from last night?" he asked. Good! Right down to business.

"I do," I answered, watching him carefully. He didn't falter. Does he seriously see nothing wrong with what he did?

"Do you know why you were coming to my room?" he asked.

"No," I answered, "I heard a woman crying, and I was checking on her."

"In my room?" he looked a little confused.

"Yes. I was in the hallway and I heard a woman crying, so I opened the door!" I groaned.

"Does talking about it upset you?" he asked.

"No. What bothers me is what you were doing," I accused.

"Jess, we're both adults." He said, "I'm sure that you know that it's perfectly normal and healthy to..."

"There's nothing normal or healthy about what you were doing!" I yelled. I can't believe this. Is he denying it? "Poor Angelique."

"Wait a minute. What about Angelique?" he asked, a confused look on his face.

"She's the woman who was crying. The one you were......" I paused, looking for the right word, "Assaulting."

He looked outraged and a little disgusted, "Jess, I would never! Angelique is like a sister to me!"

"I saw her going down on you!" I yelled, "She didn't want to. You were forcing her."

We were silent for a few minutes, then, "Jess, I wouldn't do that. Angelique is coming. I will let her tell you."

We waited in silence. I had nothing to say to him anyway. I couldn't believe he was lying. He will probably force Angelique to lie, too.

After some time, there was a knock on the door. "Come," Benjamin called. The door silently swung open and in walked Angelique and Evan. Why is Evan here?

"Please have a seat," Benjamin directed them. Angelique sat next to me, and Evan took the other armchair. Evan looked as confused as I felt. Angelique looked guilty.

"Angelique, where were you around midnight last night?" Benjamin asked, "If you answer truthfully, you will not be sanctioned."

She didn't answer right away. She looked very conflicted. She looked to be weighing her options. "I won't get in trouble?" she finally spoke.

"You will not," Benjamin said softly.

She sat silent for a moment as if it were hard for her to say. "I'm so sorry, Ben," a tear rolled down her cheek, "I was with Evan." Huh? My thinking started to falter. Was I wrong? No, she's lying, too.

"She won't get in trouble?" Evan asked.

"No, we'll discuss it later, but she won't get in any trouble," Benjamin answered.

"She was with me from about eleven p.m. until about three a.m." Evan confirmed. Was he lying, too? It seemed unlikely, but what about what I had seen? Am I going crazy?

"So, you weren't with Benjamin?" I asked Angelique.

"No, he always dismisses me by ten. I would never be in his room that late," she chuckled as if the idea were silly.

"Oh," I said. I guess I'm crazy. What else have I seen wrong? What about my hearing? I had heard a woman crying, too.

"Are you okay, Jess?" Angelique asked.

I took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm fine," I lied.

We were all uncomfortably silent for a minute, and then Benjamin stood. "You both may leave now," he said.

"See you later, Jess," Angelique said, standing up. She and Evan left.

"Jessica!" Benjamin asked loudly.

My head snapped up, and I looked at him.

"I lost you there for a moment. Are you okay?" he asked.

"I don't know," I answered. I felt like crying. "Benjamin, I'm really sorry," I apologized, "I don't know what else to say. I don't know what happened or why I saw that."

"Jess, it's okay," he took my hand and rubbed it with his thumb soothingly, "it was just a dream. Sometimes, dreams are tricky." He sat next to me on the sofa. "Please don't be upset. I'm not," he said, "I'm just glad that it was cleared up. I don't think that I could bear it for you to think that of me."

I was still upset. Not only because of that, but because I could no longer trust my eyes.

"So, what was going on, if that wasn't happening?" I asked.

He cleared his throat, "You sort of caught me in a private moment."

"A private moment?" I questioned further, not understanding.

"Yes. A very private moment," he answered.

I just stared at him for a minute, then felt so embarrassed when it dawned on me what he meant. Then I felt mortified that I had interrupted him in such a private moment. Then, I made it worse, "You mean you were....you were...."

"Yes. You caught me pleasuring myself. Normally, people knock before entering," he said, clearly uncomfortable.

"I'm so sorry!" I chuckled, "I guess you should start locking your door."

"I can't do that. I want you to come to me if you are sleepwalking. If you had gone into the wrong room, you could've been seriously hurt," he said gravely.

"Oh," I straightened up. I needed to be serious about this.

"Are you sure that you don't know why you were in that hallway?" he asked.

"I don't. I wish that I did," I answered.

"Will you let me help you find out?" he asked.

"You can do that? How?" I asked, full of wonder and a little bit of hope.

"Yes, by putting you into a dream state. I would have to put you to sleep. I would follow you, then wake you when we're done," he answered, "I'll be with you the whole time so that you will be safe."

I thought for a moment. Could I trust him? I was still a little weary, but I had to figure this out. What if I do it again? What if I get hurt next time?

"Okay," I agreed.

"Okay. Can you get into bed? Take off the robe. You need to be comfortable," he directed.

I didn't know how comfortable I could be, but I did as he asked and got into bed. He sat down on the bed next to me and took my hand. He started rubbing the soothing circles on my palm again. To my surprise, I felt myself relaxing.

"I'm going to rest my hand on your forehead, and you will fall asleep. You will wake when I tap your forehead with my fingers. Do I have permission to read your mind while we do this?" he asked softly.
"Yes," I felt compelled to agree.

He placed his hand on my forehead just as he explained. First, I felt that tug in my mind, then the slip as I gave him permission. My eyes got so heavy that I couldn't keep them open. I felt extreme relaxation as sleep took over.

I come to in that same dark hallway. The lighting seems dimmer than before. The hallway looks longer. I have to hold onto the walls again as my feet don't seem to want to work properly.

As I make my way down the hall, I hear the unmistakable moans and cries of passion in the distance. Again, I hear the woman crying, but not from the same door. I move to the door that I believe that she is behind and reach out to put my hand on the door knob. I hesitate, then change my mind. I know that isn't why I'm here. What if it's a trick again? I take my hand back and continue past the door. The moans of pleasure get louder and heavier. Whoever is having sex is really into it. I hope that isn't where I'm going, afraid of what I'll find.

I slowly stumble down the hall, past several doors, until I come to the door at the end. This door looks different. It has carvings etched into it of figures of people in various states of coitus. At the top of the door is an etching of a word that I can't read. It is in a different language. I wonder what it means. The sounds of ecstasy aren't coming from this door. I must've passed it, or they are finished.

I reach out and grasp the cool metal of the door knob and turn it. The door swings open, and I am confronted with a room of horrors. There are various whips made of leather and metal devices that are suspended from the walls. What is this place? There are strange looking machines that litter the room. They look as if they could be torture devices. I see what I think may be blood on one. The room smells strongly of antiseptic and faintly metallic.

I don't want to, but my feet stumble forward as if they have a mind of their own. On the far wall, knives, swords, and cleavers hang in neatly assembled rows. In the middle of the room is a large four-poster bed. A man is laying nude on the bed, wrists, and ankles tied to the posts with leather straps. He has a hood over his head and is lying on a plastic mattress cover.

"Who's there?" he calls out. I recognize his voice as Dave. What is he doing here? Why have I come here? As I get closer, I notice that small nicks and cuts litter his body in strange patterns. The patterned cuts almost have an artistic quality to them. Has someone been torturing him?

"Jess, is that you? I recognize your scent," his voice takes on a husky quality. I notice that his previously flaccid member twitches to life and then stands at attention. "Have you come back for round two? Untie me, and I'll show you how a real man does it," he says. I feel immediate revulsion with a twinge of fear.

Wait a minute! He's tied to the bed. He can't do anything to me.....but I can do stuff to him.

I make my way over to the wall of knives and pick one out. The long, large, serrated blade gleams in the moonlight. For a moment, I contemplate taking the hood off. Do I want him to watch me do it? I don't know. I lean towards the element of surprise.

I shuffle back to him.

"C'mon Jess. Untie me," he says, sounding a bit unsure now.

I slowly drag the knife over his heart, barely touching the skin so that he can feel the cool metal of the blade.

"What are you doing, Jess? This isn't you. You don't have to do this," Now he sounds a bit uneasy.

"I don't have to. I want to," I rasp out. My mouth feels like it's full of cotton.

I make my first cut over his heart because that's where he hurt me most.

"Jess, please," he begs. I like the whine of his begging.

"C'mon Dave. I thought you were a big man! Can't take a little pain?" I laugh.

I cut him again, and again, and again. His penis is still erect. It is actually pulsing.

"You're sick!" I accuse, "You're getting off on this!"

"I can't help it," he says in between gasps of air.

This makes me angry. He's enjoying this!

I look at his penis. Then I look at the knife. I grab hold of it. He gasps, "Oh Jess! Yes!"

Boy, is he in for a surprise! I reach the knife back behind me, and I swing.

I felt a light tap on my forehead, and everything went dark.

I sat bolt upright in bed. I looked around and felt of the bed with my hands. Then I looked down and felt of my torso. I sighed, relieved. No blood.

"Jess. You're back with me now," I heard Benjamin say softly.

I looked up at him and said, "I'm definitely not in love with Dave!"

"No. You are not!" he smiled, "In fact, I think that you might feel some hate there."