Psychic Detective 7 How Detective Inspector Winik met his Match
This is a work of erotic gay fiction, intended for readers who enjoy a murder mystery in which fully developed characters interact sexually and in other ways. Their sexual encounters are sometimes romantic, sometimes recreational, and almost always described explicitly. My attention is equally divided between narrative, character development, and sex scenes. If you don't care for this combination, there are many other excellent "nifty" stories to choose from. And remember that while nifty stories are free, maintaining a website is not. Please think about donating at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
Writing is usually a solitary avocation, but not necessarily so on nifty.org, where a longer story appears in installments. If my characters and my story grab your attention, you can always intervene with suggestions for improvements. All sincere comments will get a response!
Note: a rare word used in this chapter is "bulbourous" (adjective), pertaining to pre-seminal fluid, or pre-cum. The adjective is derived from "bulbourethal glands" (also known as "Cowper's glands), which produce pre-seminal fluid.
Jake, at jemtling@gmail.com
Chapter 7 How Detective Inspector Winik met his Match
Saturday, July 5. Tom Preston, Göran Svenson, and Harvey Winik met for breakfast in the Lodge restaurant. Soon they were joined by Red Hawk. It was Winik's first time meeting him. The mutual attraction was obvious, at least to Svenson.
"We've got a problem with time constraints today," Svenson said. "A forensics team from Duluth will get here this morning to collect evidence on No Name Island. It might take all day, but we also need to interview Dmitri and David as soon as we can."
"Fire Spirits Island," Red Hawk said. "This week's Herald is calling it Five Spirits Island. The name is ghoulish, but at least it's not ridiculous."
"Five Spirits Island, then," Svenson replied. "I'll change the name in my reports. About Dmitri and David, I forgot to tell you, Harvey, the boys aren't really missing. They're in Crane Lake, under the protection of Shaman Dark Eagle. Sam Black Bear and Anna Ravitch drove them there when they realized that Deputy Nelson was planning to keep them in jail."
"That's okay, Göran," Harvey replied. "I never thought they were missing. But you already interviewed them. The report you gave me last night was very thorough. What more can we learn from these college boys?"
Tom noticed that Winik was uncharacteristically cheerful. Winik and Svenson were on a first-name basis. Two days before, they were formal and defensive. He appreciated the improvement. 'Maybe Winik's good luck was lucky for us all', he thought.
"I believe that Dmitri and David saw someone on the island, or on the north shore," Svenson said. "It was probably for an instant, so they don't recall what they saw. Dark Eagle to help them to see what they think they didn't see, if that makes sense. I wish Jake Preston were here. He could help, too."
"Why Jake Preston?" Winik asked. He knew the man by reputation, but they had never met.
"Jake 'Two Spirits Preston'," Red Hawk chipped in. "Jake Niizho-manitou, 'double- spirit'. He's a shaman, like Dark Eagle, and he has powers."
"You mean psychic powers?" Winik asked.
"He receives insight from Manitou during Ojibwe rituals," Red Hawk said. "I wouldn't call that psychic."
Tom thought Winik to scoff, but he didn't. "We've got two choices," he said. "I could stay here to guide the forensics team, while Göran goes to Crane Lake for the ritual, or you postpone the ritual until tomorrow. I recommend postponement, if the delay isn't too long for the college boys. I say this for two reasons. First, the forensics team really needs guidance from Göran. His insights about the crime scene have been uncanny, and I expect he'll have more insights today. Maybe he really is a psychic."
"Is that your second reason?" Red Hawk asked.
"No. That was my complicated first reason. My second reason is that I'd like to be included in the ritual. I've always wanted to experience peyote."
Red Hawk blushed and was startled. Winik laughed at his reaction. "I just dropped a double bombshell on Red Hawk-Göran's a psychic and I'm a weed-head!"
"Tomorrow for the peyote ritual, then," Red Hawk said. "I'll inform Dark Eagle. Mrs. Ravitch will welcome the postponement. She thinks the boys need more time to rest. She's become their substitute mother. She fears that the ritual will tap them out."
After breakfast, Winik sat outside in the Lodge balcony. Their time was free while they waited for the forensics team. Red Hawk joined him. They sat together in a covered patio-swing. "How much do you know about the peyote ritual?" Red Hawk asked Winik.
"Only that you use peyote to inspire visions, like LSD," Winik said. "It's not illegal, when the Ojibwe use it for religious ceremonies."
"The ritual is based on the concept of 'two spirits'," Red Hawk said. "That's why the Ojibwe call Jake Preston by the name 'Two Spirits'. During the ritual, Manitou speaks through him because he has two spirits. He has a masculine spirit, which is dominant, and a feminine spirit, which manifests itself in the peyote ritual. His feminine spirit is in touch with Manitou. Everyone who takes part in the ritual has an obligation to give support to the one who has two spirits. Do you understand?"
"So you're hoping that Dark Eagle will convey a message?" Winik asked.
"No, not Dark Eagle. It's the college boys. Because Dmitri and David are lovers, it's possible that one or both of them have two spirits. Of course they don't know that, and neither do we. The peyote ritual might not succeed. We all know that. Even if it doesn't, it's an inspirational event, followed by a headache the next day," Red Hawk chuckled.
"What if Dmitri and David have false memories? Peyote memories, as it were?" Winik asked. "If they've been told that they saw something, subconsciously they might make something up."
"No one has told them the purpose of the ritual," Red Hawk said. "Mrs. Ravitch said it would be good for them to experience Ojibwe culture. That's our story. If the boys remember something they've seen, we'll interview them separately the next day, when their minds are clear."
"This is all very complicated, but fascinating," Winik said.
"There's something else you should know about the peyote ritual," Red Hawk said. "The way we practice it, the ritual is loaded with gay content. Sometimes we use intercourse to encourage a second spirit to manifest itself. That might not be to your liking, Harvey."
"Maybe I'm more broad-minded than you think, Red Hawk," Winik said. He gazed at the man's trim, fit figure. After long silence, he continued: "If there can be men with two spirits, Göran is one of them. Did you know that, Red Hawk? You knew him when you were in high school, and college. Were there any signs at that time?"
"Not that anyone noticed, but no one was looking," Red Hawk said.
"Maybe it's his experience with gruesome crime scenes. He sees things that other detectives don't see, including me. Sometimes his observations seem off the wall. Then he explains them, and they make sense. If he has psychic powers, that's the only time he uses them. Maybe that's the only time he can use them. He's the last person to say he's psychic. He'll deny it. But I've seen him in action, just as you've seen your shaman in action."
"It might manifest itself in the peyote ritual," Red Hawk said. "Göran must be warned what to expect. How about if the two of you come to Jake's place for a sauna this evening? Then we can tell him. You're both invited."
"A sauna? That would be great," Winik said.
"Remember to bring your birthday suit," Red Hawk laughed.
Winik and Svenson skipped dinner and walked the trail through the woods to Jake Preston's cabin. The trail passed through Willy Elbo's land. "This place was sold at auction after Elbo was murdered by his foster-son," Svenson said. "Jake got it at a good price. He rents it year round to visitors. Tom manages the property and advertises it on his website." The trail passed through Ben Hasek's and Sam Black Bear's land. "This place was built by the Ojibwe elders, after Elbo burned down the original cabin," Svenson said. "Willy Elbo, the Abs Snopes of Wayward Bay; he wanted the land from his place to the point, including Jake's place, and burned down houses when their owners refused to sell." The trail passed by the charred ruins of a cabin, a stuga, and a shed. "This was the summer home of a Linguistics professor in Minneapolis," Svenson said. "After it burned down, Jake bought the land. He calls it his bird sanctuary."
"Looks to me like Preston gained more from Elbo's arson than anyone else," Winik said.
"He paid the asking price," Svenson said. "The trail we're on now is a hiking trail, open to the public. Tom advertises it in his resort literature."
Preston's cabin came into view, sheltered amid Norway and white pines and birches. A gaggle of twenty noisy white geese met them half-way, honking and chattering. A golden lab on the front porch gave out a single bark. He wagged his tail, but kept an eye on the men and their webfoot reception party. When Red Hawk emerged from the cabin and walked toward them, the dog darted just ahead, leading the way. "This is Ma'hingan," Red Hawk said. "The new Ma'hingan. "We lost the old Ma'hingan and Daisy to doggie heaven three years ago." He directed this remark to Svenson. "Ma'hingan is the Ojibwe word for 'Wolfie'," Svenson explained.
Red Hawk wore the ceremonial costume of an Ojibwe warrior. The dark brown tones of his shoulder-length hair were accentuated by a white headband, beaded with images of wigwams, totem birds, and Ojibwe artefacts-a peace-pipe, a hatchet, a canoe, bows and arrows-no two images alike. The headband supported a single brown hawk-feather at the back of his head on the left side. The feather gave Red Hawk an aura of simplicity amidst the elaborate luxury of Ojibwe trimmings. He wore a deerskin shirt beaded with geometric shapes, and on the chest in red beads, the outline of two hawks rampant, facing each other, as if in combat. A string of carved turquoise-blue stones graced his collar. A bronze lozenge pendant suspended from the collar, with a large turquoise at its center and two small green stones on each side, giving Ojibwe nuance to the idiom of being 'well hung'. The soft texture of his deerskin trousers defined a provocatively tight curvature of butt. The crotch was fastened by wooden buttons, sculptured in the likeness of Indian-head nickels. They formed a column of six that bulged at the center of maleness. His moccasins were deerskin, too, and geometrically beaded.
Svenson recognized at once that Red Hawk had dressed in costume for the benefit of Harvey Winik. That wasn't psychic power, just psychology. Red Hawk was hot. His Ojibwe profile made him hotter. If Winik was caught in a fantasy of sex with an Indian, why not add fuel to the fire?
The fragrance of wood-smoke announced that Red Hawk had started a fire in the sauna. Red Hawk poured whisky into three tumblers. He took Winik for a walk in the woods to cut balsam boughs, while Svenson browsed in Jake's and Red Hawk's library. His eye fell on five books that Red Hawk had written: a revised edition of his book about the Ojibwe Monument on the Rice River, and four 80-page transcripts and translations of Ojibwe legends, charms, and religious texts, edited from the birch-bark scrolls in Dark Eagle's collection. Svenson also looked through a stack of photos of Summer Solstice powwows on Rice River, where Red Hawk gave lectures about Ojibwe traditions each year.
Red Hawk and Winik returned to the cabin in a festive mood, Winik having been schooled in the North Woods custom of sharing balsam-bough massages in the sauna. Svenson's mood had turned serious. "The serial killers are somewhere in these photos," he said. "I'll have to take a rain check on the sauna. I need to study these photos."
"Be we don't know what the culprits look like," Winik said. "We don't have a sighting or a verbal description."
"All the more reason for me to study them carefully," Svenson said. "If Dmitri and David saw something distinctive, we might be able to match it with someone in the photos. I'll have to take a rain check on the sauna. I'm going back to the lodge to study the photos and the books. Red Hawk, do you have the texts of your Summer Solstice lectures on the computer?"
Red Hawk copied his lectures to a flash drive. He also copied photos more pictures of the Rice River powwows. He burnt midnight oil over Red Hawk's books, photos, and flash drive.
"The sauna should be hot enough by now," Red Hawk said. He stood by the loveseat and stripped naked. The spectacle of masculine beauty tightened Winik's throat and fixed his eyes in a gaze. Red Hawk was as muscular as Göran, but shorter, leaner, and tighter at the abdomen and ribs. Red Hawk folded his clothes over the back of the loveseat. Winik seemed frozen in space and time, watching his figure in motion. Red Hawk glanced back with a toothy grin. He reached for the turquois necklace and asked Winik to help with the clasp at the back of his neck. There was nothing fem about his manner or speech, but to look at his backside, Winik figured him as seductively available with his shoulder-length hair and turquois necklace.
Winik reached for Red Hawk's shoulder, but his figure was already in motion, floating, it seemed like a hermaphroditic mirage, out of his grasp but not out of sight. All that happened, in fact, was that Red Hawk remembered some task in the kitchen, and darted there, leaving Winik's arms empty. Winik got naked and folded his clothes next to Red Hawk's deerskin on the loveseat. He followed Red Hawk to the kitchen. Red Hawk handed him a glass of water and a little blue pill on a saucer. Winik took one. Red Hawk took the other, "just to make sure I keep up with you."
Red Hawk led the way down the trail to the sauna, carrying towels and a bar of soap. Winik studied his butt in motion, curvaceously slender with a deep-defined cleft. Ma'ingan romped at his master's heels. Red Hawk bent over, giving Ma'ingan a dog-hug and Winik an eye-candied glimpse of his portal.
In the first heat of sauna, Winik's hands roamed over Red Hawk's genitals and into his cleft. He let it happen, implicitly giving Winik license to grab-ass. Eventually they settled down, seated on the second bench, sharing a pail of cool water between them. "I think we caught Göran in a psychic moment," Red Hawk said.
"Doubly psychic," Winik said. "He knew I wanted to get you alone, and he knows something about Five Spirits Island. He knows that the serial killers were present at one of your Summer Solstice lectures at the Ojibwe Monument. Maybe they came more than once. They probably bought your books. Certainly they bought Ojibwe Monument. They've been stalking you, maybe not as a potential victim, but as a source of information about Ojibwe mysticism."
The sauna heat prompted Winik and Svenson to jog to the dock and jump in the lake. Svenson brought with him a bar of Irish Spring and a plastic bottle of shampoo. "Now's a good time to soap up," Red Hawk said. "Better here than in the sauna." He swam a breast-stroke to shallow water and stood by the dock. Winik followed him. Red Hawk handed the soap to Winik and rested his arms on the dock, with his legs spread apart. Winik asserted his 'topness' by kissing Red Hawk aggressively and greedily fondling his butt-encouraged down this path by the androgynous appearance of Red Hawk's shoulder-length hair and his turquoise necklace. Soapsuds and water-sporting were foreplay, followed by mutual massage in the application of balsam boughs in the sauna, a custom for cleansing every part of the body, and, in the Lake Country, an opportunity to check out potential partners and competitors! Winik and Red Hawk took turns rubbing soft balsam boughs over the contours and into the crevices of each other. When the sauna heat got to them, they cooled down by sporting in the water, where fingers went into clefts and crevices, the pretense of balsam-cleansing having been forgotten. Balsamic fragrance filled the sauna "Some Ojibwe rituals are mysterious, but this one uncovers all mysteries," Winik said in jest.
"It's a Finnish ritual, not Ojibwe," Red Hawk explained. "Families and friends, people of all ages and both sexes, take sauna naked. Think of it as a way that a mother can approve a future son-in-law! Other residents copied the Finns. They built their own saunas on the lake, or in their back yards. In winter we cool off by rolling in snow; in summer we jump in the lake. Usually they wear swimsuits, or segregate themselves by gender, but others have discovered nudity as one of the joys of life. The Indian counterpart is the sweat lodge, where men get together fully clothed, except for the Ojibwe on Crane Lake. In this case it was white folks who taught us to relax in our skin and appreciate the nudity of our friends. We borrowed the custom of balsam- bough massage from the Finns, too. Originally balsam was a substitute for soap, but balsam- massage has a life of its own. It opens nudity to all five senses-the spectacle of naked bodies, the sounds of conversation, the fragrance of balsam, the touch of mutual massage, the taste of skin on your lips. This is part of the balsam-massage, too." While Red Hawk spoke, Winik pronated face-down on the second bench in the sauna. Red Hawk folded tender balsam-sprigs into the cleavage of his butt. To demonstrate taste, he ran his tongue along the length of Winik's cleft. Winik accepted Red Hawk's bulbourous-dripping cock in his mouth and nibbled Ojibwe foreskin while Red Hawk chanted a merry rhyme:
How do you know his she-manner is not
A honey-bear trap where a he-man is caught?
Hoping to grab some male pussy and ram it,
He gets himself owned by a cherry-ass bandit.
When all's fair in love, as it is in wars,
Mars becomes Venus, and Venus Mars.
"Another Ojibwe riddle?" Winik murmured.
"Hardly," Red Hawk replied. "It's me, practicing the art of love. Me Mars, you Venus." He wriggled a fuck-finger inside Winik's portal. "Tell me what, what, what? In the butt, butt, butt," he chanted softly.
"Okay," Winik said.
The seduction of Winik was complete. All that remained was its execution. When Winik followed Red Hawk up the trail back to the cabin, he saw his deceptively androgynous-looking friend in a new light. His dripping-wet shoulder-length hair, his turquois necklace, the curvaceous contours of thighs-these were siren strains to which he would sacrifice his rugged masculinity. He imagined Red Hawk as more androgynous than he really was; the illusion was possible when seen from the rear. Walking ahead, Red Hawk reached back with one arm. Winik took his hand and let the man lead him up the trail.
Winik lay on his back with his butt at the edge of the bed. Red Hawk knelt between his legs and sucked his cock, his balls, his perineum, his butthole. "Maybe you should get inside before I change my mind," Winik said.
Red Hawk replied with a stiff slick shaft up his ass. Winik groaned and yelped. Red Hawk gazed down at the hairy hunk of masculinity that writhed around his shaft. He stopped grinding long enough to give Winik time to adjust to the shape-changing organ inside him, and said in a smooth-silky voice, "You're gonna give me everything, Harvey."
So that's how Red Hawk popped cherry and Winik learned to squeeze dick with his ass. Winik felt the shock of surrender as a sensation of sliding into sleep and then starting awake. He confessed the sensation to Red Hawk, who accommodated him by fucking in every position he could think of. Red Hawk jizzed inside Winik. Then he fucked Winik with a vibrator while he jacked off. "I'll get you conditioned for bottomhood, Harv," he said.