Chapter 3

We were both very much relieved when the ordeal was over. Once more she disappeared into the bathroom as I cleared away the few tools of my trade.

We had a late lunch then and talked of trivia while we were at it. The good times they had here when the girls were small, the nice summer holidays, weekends in early autumn, before everything took a turn for the worse.

"The change came gradually. About two three ago. Something must have happened at work. He never talked about it, he just turned mean. If he wanted to dominate me, okay. I can take rough. But why did he have to hurt me so?"

"Karla, forgive my asking, I have to know. Was there anything peculiar about his lovemaking, his sexual prowess at all? Did he come short – sorry about the pun – physically in any way? Did you ever belittle him about his performance, refuse intercourse, reject some of his preferences?"

Those eyes of her. I could well understand Helmut. I didn't much like that look either. As if a curtain had been dropped. Dark, almost black lifeless pools, full of enmity and hatred.

"Karla, please..."

It took a long time for her to react. At last she seemed to gather herself, her eyes more lively, but that blush of hers was back in force.

"Our lovemaking never was anything special. I had some previous experience, I could compare. He did not fare badly in those comparisons. He is built quite normally, I think, apart from being very tall and heavy in body. Perhaps I just had little luck in my choice of partners. I believe I have let him know a few times that I was ... well, unsatisfied. Especially when he had too much to drink." She wrung her hands nervously, her body tensed, doubled over. "His breath would smell, sometimes his body odour was disturbing, to say the least. So, yes, I turned him away then. And when he wanted oral sex. I would not, will not do that, ever!"

"Did he try to stimulate you orally?"

"Berthold, do we have to talk about all that? Whatever sex might be, it should never be a matter of force, of hurting, of demeaning."

"Karla, it should be obvious to you, too, that 'all that ' may well be the root of your problems. Answer me, please."

If these talks continued for any length of time, her blush would become a permanent fixture. She did not look at me when she finally stammered.

"He tried it sometimes. I would not let him after he forced me once, slobbering all over me down there, even pushing his tongue inside. Directly afterwards, he tried to kiss me with his foul mouth. The filth ... I thought I would never stop retching."

By now I regretted listening to her very much, let alone help her. What a mess!

"Karla, Karla. When I first met you, my initial impression was that of a very fastidious woman. Your beautiful hair was always clean and gleaming, your nails trimmed and polished, without varnish, teeth brushed, breath fresh, your clothes immaculate. Apart from your hair, you have not changed at all. So you will forgive me if I don't believe your claim that you are filthy there! Because that is what it boils down to, isn't it?"

Her protests I cut short. "I am not saying that you should be forced to do anything repulsive to you. Yet, if both participants are clean in body and habit, there is little to say against most sexual practices not involving pain or domination. As long as both agree and enjoy. Of course, so-called water sports and anal sex do not belong in that category. Nobody should have to endure that and I fail to understand how some people can claim to even like it. But then, I may be much too old-fashioned.

"This must be very upsetting to you. But tell me, weren't you even a little aroused when your husband tried to pleasure you? Because that is what it is meant to be: giving and receiving pleasure, before all technical aspects of stimulation, lubrication, receptiveness and such."

Karla was getting more and more agitated by the turns our conversation was taking. She felt disappointed that I was not prepared to see her husband as the sole culprit. I also had the impression of an underlying dark fascination with our wayward subjects. Who knows what her upbringing had been like? That particular corner of our country she hailed from being well known for its traditional, some say backwards, ways.

"I refuse to talk about these private things. It doesn't matter how you see me. I don't have to like that stuff and I won't."

"Well, Karla, then we have reached the end of the road. I have proven to you that I am able to help you. I restored your physical health, for now at least. But this won't last. If you continue with your ways, and your husband with his, the two of you are in step on the road to mutual destruction.

"What do you want to achieve? Is it divorce you want? You need a lawyer for that. If it is restitution, then you both have to work at it. I can assist. I won't go into details now, but I can bring some influence to bear on your husband and your daughters. I can promise you to stop his brutish ways, his groping of your girls. Charlotte's misbehaviour can be changed too, I am certain, and Elvira will be a free spirit once more. But all this will not be possible without your full cooperation. I will not even attempt it. You must be totally frank in your answers. You still hold back some important facts, you twist others. I can feel it, you know what they are. So, Karla, what is it to be? Is your family worth the effort or is your dogged pride something to be preserved? At the cost of the happiness of four people? This is your decision, and you have to decide right now. Because I am getting cheesed off as well!"