Date: Wed, 19 Feb 2014 07:47:10 -0500
From: Jake Preston <jemtling@gmail.com>
Subject: Psychic Detective 7

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.