Grab Life by the Balls

"Did you two get into a big fight?"

"You could call it that, I suppose. But, it was more than that. She was meaner and more vicious than ever. And because Brad was there, she knew she could do whatever she wanted and there was nothing I could do about it. And she'll do it again, Pat, and it will be a million times worse if they find those cameras!"

"But they DIDN'T find the cameras, right?"

"No, they didn't Pat. But I'm afraid it was just a matter of time before they do. I gave her the picture frame like Tonya said. I even programmed nothing but pictures of her and Brad on it. She liked it at first but then she told me that nothing could make up for what I did last Friday. She put the picture frame on her side of the bed and then punished me."

"Punished you?" I queried.

"Yes."

"What did she do, Dean? Remember, I'm not judging your. I wanna help you, okay?"

Dean cried quietly for a few moments before answering. "You have the password, Pat. See for yourself." And he got up to leave.

"Where are you going, Dean?"

"Gonna try to get some work done. I know what everyone in this building thinks of me. But I'm no use to anyone if I get fired."

"Okay, okay. I understand. I'm gonna watch the video, Dean. And if I think I need to get you some place safe, will you let me take you there?"

"There is no safe place for me, Pat."

"Before you go, Dean, I at least want to give you something." I reached into my drawer and pulled out some old 1990's-era technology. "Here. Take this," I said, handing him a clunky old pager.

"What's this for?"

"It's a pager, of course. But it has its own number. And, more importantly, it has a panic button on it, Dean. All you have to do is hit the red button on top to activate it. The signal is one we can triangulate on. It isn't as accurate as GPS, but it isn't too far removed, either."

"What if Mercedes sees this?"

"Just tell her I'm old fashioned and that I need you to be accessible for public safety reasons. It's not even a lie, Dean."

Dean paused for a few moments, staring at the pager and contemplating. "Pat, you...you know...what she wants to do to me...right?"

"Yeah, Dean, I know. I'm not gonna let that happen, okay? I'm gonna watch the video and we'll figure out what to do next, okay?"

"Okay," he said. And then he left my office and returned to work.

I got on my desk phone intercom and rang my secretary, Karen Landingham.

"Yes, Sheriff?" she answered.

"Karen, can you see if Chief Deputy Villanueva and Lieutenant Chris Hayes are available to meet me in my office in about 20 or 30 minutes?"

"Absolutely, Sheriff."

Mercedes Strobe wanted to emasculate her husband for real. She had been doing it figuratively for years and it had now developed into a macabre fantasy. The question that kept going through my mind was 'how was she going to do it?' It was obvious that she wasn't going to just up and tie him down and castrate him like a hog. Chances are that Dean would bleed to death if she did.

Dean had said specifically that Mercedes was enlisting Brad Weston's help and that he, himself, was taking care of the details. That obviously meant that there was some serious planning and consideration going on. And, if that was the case, there was a conspiracy involved. And, if THAT was the case, just exactly how many people were in on it?

Most likely there would be medical people involved or, at the very least, people who had some sort of medical training and would theoretically be able to cut his balls off without managing to kill him in the process.

Shortly after 9 o'clock, both Ben Villanueva and Chris Hayes were in my office and I was briefing them on what had transpired with Dean Strobe. Both men were incredulous and slightly amused and kept looking at each other in disbelief as I divulged some of the more intimate details of Mercedes' and Dean's relationship.

"So, Dean told you all of this?" Chris asked.

"Yeah, last Friday."

"How'd you get him to spill his guts?" Ben wondered.

"The old-fashioned way. I took him to The End Zone and got him plastered. After a few rums and Coke, he was pretty much singing like Beverly Sills."

"So what proof do you have of the abuse?"

"Well...none," I admitted. "But that is why I brought you two in here. Dean showed up this morning and looked like he could lose his bowels at any moment. Whatever happened when Mercedes and Brad came home last night, it was enough to put the fear of Jesus in him. So I figured we could review the video from last night and see what happened."

"Got any popcorn?" Chris asked, being a smart ass. I gave him a brief death stare. "Ok, guess not."

I turned my laptop on and followed the instructions Tonya gave me for getting into the server that would enable me to look at the real time and stored footage from the cameras hidden in Dean's house. It took me about 8 or 10 minutes because I am no genius when it comes to computers. I often fantasized that law enforcement had to be a lot easier 20 or 30 years ago when all you had to do was write tickets by hand and could get all your info from the dispatcher.

Finally, I got logged in and I clicked on the timeline review. I started looking at video feed from 5 o'clock and later, as I knew that was the time Dean usually got home.

We viewed Dean coming home from work with his kids. He made them supper and helped them with their school work for a bit. He constantly kept looking at his watch or looking at the wall clock. Clearly, he expected Mercedes home at any moment.

Mercedes arrived home to great fanfare at almost 8 pm. She was accompanied by Brad Weston and two other male companions. She paid very brief attention to both of the kids for a few moments, giving them hugs and asking about their day. Mercedes then quickly dispatched both of them by telling them to go down the street to their friends' house and hang out for a while, which they were only too happy to do on a school night. Once they were gone, all-fucking-hell broke loose.

"I'll give her one thing," Ben commented, "Dean's old lady is pretty damned good looking."

"Yeah, but she's a royal bitch," Chris added.

"Amen to that," I concurred.

I turned up the audio so we could hear.

"Alright, you pathetic little fuck! Do you want to explain yourself for last Friday and how you damned near fucked up my weekend with Brad?"

"I couldn't help it, I swear!" Dean pleaded.

"Bullshit, Dean! You've never been stupid enough to cross me like this! You knew perfectly well that Brad and I were getting ready to leave! I don't know what the fuck you could have possibly been thinking!"

"I swear, Mercedes! I had to meet with the Sheriff! It was extremely important! The Sheriff insisted that I help him!"

"Your first responsibility, Dean, is to ME! Not the Sheriff!"

"Aw, please, Mercedes! It was important! I help Pat Quinn catch a lot of bad people by working for him! It was important, I swear!"

"Like I said, Dean. Your first responsibility in this is house is to ME! Your second responsibility is to Brad! Get in the bedroom! NOW!"

We switched camera views to catch the scene as it shifted to the master bedroom. Dean was actually in tears and obviously afraid. Dean apparently knew what was coming and was terrified.

"Strip!" Mercedes ordered.

"Please, Mercedes! No," Dean pleaded.

"I'm not asking you to, Dean! Get your fucking clothes off NOW!"

"You heard what she said," Brad threatened. "Clothes. Off. Now!"

Dean stood there for a moment while the two lovers eyeballed him menacingly. Reluctantly, Dean began to take off one article of clothing at a time, slowly, until he stood there covering his genitals with his hands, thoroughly embarrassed.

"Cuffs!" Mercedes barked. "Get 'em on now!"

Shamefully, Dean picked up a pair of handcuffs and applied them to himself. He was breathing so fast, almost to the point of hyperventilating.

"Brad? Can you give me a hand with the cable?" Mercedes begged.

"Gladly," he said with a shit-eating grin. Man, I was really starting to despise that asshole.

Ben, Chris and I watched in horrific fascination as Brad applied a D-ring to the chain linking the two cuffs. The chain was connected to a small strand of cable that ran to a small pulley mounted to the ceiling. As soon as Brad had the cable connected to the cuffs, he then pulled the slack from the cable until he had Dean's arms extended fully over his head. He then connected the distant end of the cable to a hook attached to the wall just outside the master bathroom. Dean was nearly fully suspended with just his toes touching the carpet.

"This is what you get for almost ruining our weekend! Guyahhh!"

A blood-curdling scream from Dean followed immediately as Mercedes, in all her beautiful fury, had reached back and punched Dean with a closed fist right in his junk.

"Holy shit!" Chris Hayes shrieked.

"Jesus Christ!" Ben followed. "Are you fucking kidding me?!!"

"Easy, easy, guys!" I admonished. "I can't hear what they're saying!"

Mercedes followed her initial assault on Dean's manhood with four rapid-fire knees to the groin that had Dean grunting and stifled his attempts at screaming and only left him there dangling and starting a violent coughing spell that wracked his entire body.

"This is what you get for forgetting your place, Dean! I told you specifically that you had better have your ass home by the time Brad and I were getting ready to leave! What? Did you think I was fucking kidding?!! Did you think this was some kind of a sick joke?!! Did you think there wouldn't be consequences?!! There are ALWAYS consequences, Dean! You're a smart guy! Isn't that some kind of scientific thing? For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction? Huh, Dean?!!"

Dean's coughing spell from the battery of his jewels was interrupted as Mercedes moved in close, her face possessing the most hellish and fiendish look. She proceeded to grab Dean's testicles and his dick and very forcefully began to squeeze them for all they were worth. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his jaw and tensing every last muscle in his body to try and withstand the pain. Slowly, he was losing the fight and he began to break down in stuttered sobbing.

Finally, after three or four minutes, Mercedes' face lost the look of evil and her expression softened. She relaxed her grip and released Dean's tortured genitals. I sat there in shock as I saw what appeared to be a few drops of blood drip from the tip of Dean's abused penis. Dean exhaled a huge breath and hung there gasping for more air.

"Brad, can you give Dean and me couple of minutes to talk?"

"Sure, sugar tits," he cooed, walking up to Mercedes. He gave Dean a brief look and a smirk before attempting to swallow Mercedes' entire face in the most garish kissing I had ever seen two people attempt. He then exited the master bedroom and walked to the living room.

Mercedes suddenly tried to sooth and caress Dean.

"There, there, there, sweetheart," Mercedes soothed in a sickeningly sweet voice. "It's all over with for right now, okay?" She smiled sympathetically as she continued to caress his face. "I just need for you to understand, Dean, how much you hurt me with your actions. You need to know how it makes me feel inside when I feel like I don't have your complete attention. You always promised me that you would put me first, Dean. You promised that my needs would always come first, didn't you?"

Dean just hung there, sobbing quietly, desperately trying to avoid looking her in the face.

"Well, Dean? Didn't you?"

Dean finally hung his head in defeat, sobbing and reluctantly nodding.

"I...(sob)...didn't know...it was going...(sob)...to be like...this," he stammered.

Mercedes cupped Dean's face with both hands and looked tenderly into his eyes.

"Relationships change, Dean. They evolve. Ours is no different. What started out as you and me has grown into me, Brad and you. That's what makes us special, Dean. That we can grow our relationship like this, that it is always changing and evolving and blooming into something more beautiful each day."

"This...isn't...beautiful any...more. I...(sob)...don't...want to...live...like this...any...more..." Dean stammered.

"That's because you're in pain right now, sweetheart. I understand that. I totally get that. We often get angry when we are in pain. But that is just more of a reason for why this needs to happen. You need to trust me on this, Dean. What I am asking you to do for me will relieve you of this pain. You've seen today and before how much pain these things can cause," Mercedes said, gingerly caressing the scrotum she had viciously attacked only moments before.

"I...can't!" Dean stuttered, anguished.

"Yes, you can, baby! What I am asking from you is just as much of a gift to you as it is a gift to me! By finally allowing me to explore myself freely with Brad I am freeing you from a life that could only cause you more pain! You would be free, sweetheart. Free to serve and protect my relationship with Brad the way you were meant to!"

"Oh-my-fucking-God!" Chris blurted out. "Can you believe the shit coming out of that fucking whore's mouth?"

Ben Villanueva just stared at the screen, riveted and shaking his head in disbelief.

"Dean," Mercedes continued, "there would be no other couple that we could possibly know of where one partner has sacrificed so much for another. It would take our marriage and our relationship to a level never seen before. You would be proving your love to me in a way that no man has ever done before, sweetheart. No other man on the face of the earth could possibly say that they loved their wife more than you have loved me."

Dean just continued to hang there like a slab of beef in a meat locker. He was still quietly sobbing, trying to come to terms with what his wife was demanding of him and probably wondering how his miserable life could possibly have come to this. How low could you go? How bad could things really get? A man will endure just about any type of trial, tribulation or torture so long as it doesn't involve his manhood. But in return for what she was passing off for love to her husband, Mercedes was demanding exactly that price.

"I'm going to give you some time to let this sink in, Dean. But know that everything I have done today is only because of one thing - that I love you so much. Only a woman who loves her husband as much as I do could possibly go to this length to show him how much he has hurt her with his actions. So in a way, Dean, I didn't do this to you. You brought this on yourself."

Dean continued to hang silently, crying and sobbing. Mercedes turned to leave the bedroom. When she got to the door, she stopped and did an about face. "Oh, one more thing," she said.

WHUMPF!

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhh!" came Dean's anguished cry as Mercedes delivered a devastating full kick to his groin one more time. Then she turned and made a hasty exit, slamming the bedroom door behind her, presumably to drown out as much of Dean's anguish as possible.

The three of us watched in horror as Dean again was overcome by a vicious and violent coughing spell, one that was so severe it eventually caused him to projectile vomit all over himself and the bedroom carpet. A few more drops of blood trickled from his penis, indicating that her assault had caused significant damage. We gawked helplessly as Dean's bowels let loose a few moments later with brownish green diarrhea exploding from his rectum. Dean could do nothing except get it all out of his system as he hung there swinging.

I finally decided I couldn't take anymore and fast-forwarded to the part of the video where a grossed out and reluctant Brad Weston, his face covered by a neckerchief, nearly vomited himself as he came back to the bedroom and released the cable that was suspending Dean. Dean, expectedly, collapsed onto the floor and into the pile of his own filth that was a result of the horrific stages of events. All told, Brad and Mercedes had forced Dean to hang there in that room for over forty-five minutes.

I finally clicked off the video feed and the three of us just sat there in silence for a few moments, each of us too stunned and at a loss for words. Finally, Chris spoke.

"Fuck me, Pat," he breathed. "I've seen a lot of fucked up shit in this line of work. But, until today, I have NEVER seen anything as unbelievably god-awful as that!"

"You can say that again," Ben added. "Even those poor bastard rag heads down in Guantanamo Bay never had to endure anything like that."

"I know, I know, gentlemen," I agreed. "The problem is, how do we go about this?"

"What do you mean, Pat? It's simple. We go arrest their fucking asses! That bitch of a wife and Brad both!"

"I get it, Chris, I'd love to. But I'm concerned that Mercedes has enough of a psychological hold over Dean right now that he would most likely cave in and do and say whatever she told him to say."

"I'm trying to follow you, Pat," Ben said, "but where are you going with this? It looks pretty cut-and-dried to me."

"What I'm saying is, gentlemen, is that she could easily say that they are into some extreme BDSM or something like that. She could say that their relationship is one that is driven by extremes and living on the edge. They wouldn't be the first people in history to be into some extremely weird and freaky shit. Believe me, I'd love to rush over there and bust them for assault, too, but I really think it is going to be more complicated than that."

"Assault, Pat?" Chris asked, becoming indignant. "You want to arrest them for assault? That was no assault, Pat. Our friend Dean was just TORTURED in his own home! Assault charges don't even come close, Pat! Jesus Christ!!" Chris turned and started pacing the room, so furious he was about witnessing his friend's abuse.

I tried to remain calm. "Torture, Chris? Really? Do you want to show me where it is in the city, county and state codes that allow us to charge someone with torture? Sorry, dude, but the best we can get them for is felony aggravated assault with a conspiracy charge and an unlawful restraint charge thrown in for a little spice." Chris stopped pacing and just stared at me.

"Pat's right," Ben said. "He's especially right about what he said earlier, that Dean's wife has a mental hold over him. She even specifically alluded to previous sessions of this kind of abuse and they didn't just install that contraption like that moments before they did it. If Dean really wanted to, or was even able to, he would have done something about it the first time they abused him like this. Face it, Chris, she's completely inside Dean's head."

Chris said down on his chair in front of my desk again, sighed heavily and nodded his head in agreement.

"On top of everything else, what we just saw was recorded video. The events are already over twelve hours old. One of the first things Marion Lawson would want to know is why he took so long to report it and that's only if we could convince him to go in right now," I pointed out.

"So what's the plan then, you guys? I mean, I don't know Dean as well as you two do but I know him well enough to at least consider him a friend and not just a work colleague, ya know?"

"I get it Chris. We're all upset and pissed off. But we have to be careful, too. I want to really nail that bitch and that rectal itch, Brad Weston. And I also want to make sure the charges stick when we charge them, too."