King Peeper

By J. Ronald M. York

What can you do when it feels like the world is looking through your window and you can no longer hide?

It sounded like a simple plan - a serial peeping Tom writes a book based on his own experiences - but he needs a sounding board, an audience of one. He needs help from someone knowledgeable in illegal sexual behaviors, and so

• Language: English
• Publisher: St. Broadway Press
• Release date: Jun 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781734240771

J. Ronald M. York

J. Ronald M. York, multi-award-winning author of Kept in the Dark, Songs from an Imperfect Life, Nathaniel & the Midnight Movers, The One-Up Game, Secrets Unkept, King Peeper, and Peeper's Revenge, graduated from Belmont University with studies in voice and piano. He spent the next two decades in the field of interior design before opening his first art gallery. When not in the gallery, York can be found in his studio painting, at his piano composing, or assisting numerous nonprofit agencies with fundraising. He currently resides outside of Nashville, TN with his cat. Miss Trixie Delight.

Book preview

CHAPTER

ONE

What would they see? I asked again.

This isn’t about me, he answered, this time with conviction.

I know. But you asked me why I was here, and I gave you a scenario, I explained. Humor me. What would they see?

You can call me Matt, as he had introduced himself, pondered my request.

What would someone see looking through my windows at night? He repeated my question.

If you were at home in the evening, what would you be doing? Watching TV? Reading? Working? Dancing in your underwear?

A smile came across his lips. Okay, I’ll play along. Last night I watched TV and ate pizza in my leather chair with my feet on the ottoman. I was in a t-shirt, old jeans and dropped a pepperoni on my stomach, leaving a greasy spot on my shirt. Is that what you wanted? he asked.

"Yes. Although if someone were watching you, they would have gotten bored and moved on to your neighbor’s window, I explained. So, let’s make it a bit more interesting – you are sitting at your computer surfing porn sites wearing nothing but a bit of lotion? Then they might have felt more inclined to join you from their place in the shadows with only a pane of glass separating you."

There was a quick crack in his façade that most people would have missed. But I had watched closely, and had waited for it to happen.

I guess it’s a good thing that I’m boring, he replied, regaining composure. Just TV and a pizza.

I wanted to call him out on his lie.

So what you’re trying to tell me is that you’re a Peeping Tom? he asked, in his most professional therapist voice.

Except my name’s not Tom, I said.

But you’re a voyeur, correct? he clarified, with an air of satisfaction that came from thinking he understood.

Yes. Although it’s not always sexual. But correct, I would rather watch than participate, I replied, knowing exactly the direction this session would head next.

Tell me about your childhood, he began.

He was not the first professional to analyze me. That honor had gone to a woman with kind eyes and a soft voice my mother took me to see when I was twelve. Unfortunately, she couldn’t help or chose not to help since what I revealed had made her uncomfortable.

My parents tried again when I was sixteen after I had been careless and had gotten caught. My dad panicked because I would be away at college the following year. I overheard him whisper to my mother that if I didn’t change my ways, I would most likely end up in trouble again. He thought that they wouldn’t be able to protect me – that it might be easier to keep an eye on me if I went to the local university. But my mother countered that she couldn’t keep living like that – worried night and day that I’d embarrass them again. Out-of-state and out-of-mind suited her better. If something happened while I was away at college – her friends wouldn’t hear about it.

Your childhood, he repeated.

Let me stop you right there, I said. I’ve been down this road before. Maybe it would be helpful if I gave you a recap of those earlier sessions.

I’d rather learn by going through the process on my own. I might pick up something that others may have missed, he said, with a tinge of cockiness. However, if you’d prefer to give me a summary, then I’m here to listen.

My parents, I began, it always comes back to my parents. Their coldness toward each other and toward me. In a social setting, they could be charming and entertaining. However, behind closed doors, they were distant – not interested in anything that the other had to say.

And that’s the reason my peers thought you preferred watching from a distance?

Yes, I replied. They thought I was unaccustomed to human interaction. Or as one explained, I would rather watch a movie in a dark theater than live it in real-time.

Am I clear that you’ve been a voyeur most of your life? he asked.

Yes.

And you still practice this obsession? he continued.

Practice makes it sound as if I’m still learning. I don’t need to practice, I responded with a bit of attitude. If the saying goes that ‘Practice makes perfect,’ then I hate to break it to you, but I’ve reached perfection.

He shifted in his chair, which reminded me of what his predecessors had done when it all became a little bit too real.

Let me ask you again. Are you still peeping in windows or whatever it is that you do? he asked, in a tone that indicated he was losing patience with me.

Yes. On occasion, I answered. Not an obsession, as you phrased it. Although there was a time – but I’m older. The risks are higher.

In what way? he questioned.

Security. Camera phones. Neighborhood watches. Video doorbells, I ticked off a few of my reasons. And if I need to run, I’m not as fast as I was at one time. Although I’m sure that when the adrenaline kicked in, it would give me an added boost.

You’ve needed to run before? Did someone see you? Chase you? he asked as if the thought excited him.

Sure, there were times. Close calls. Unexpected things. No matter how much planning you do, things can still go wrong, I answered, unsure how much I wanted to reveal this early in the game.

You’re telling me that you plan where you are going ahead of time? That you don’t just roam through neighborhoods on the off chance of finding what you’re looking for?

Yes. The research became an integral part of the process when I got older. I teased him with another tidbit of information.

How have you chosen your… he paused, your victims?

Victims? I snapped. It’s not like I’m planning to murder or harm anyone.

Okay, maybe that was a bad choice of words, he relented. But you are harming them in a way, aren’t you? You’re invading their privacy. I assume that you’re watching them as they innocently go about their private and personal routines.

Trust me, not all are innocent, I corrected. And are you supposed to be this judgmental? After all, some of the victims – as you have labeled them – may have committed crimes.

Crimes? he interrupted. Let me stop you right there. If you’re involved in a crime, then I am legally bound to report it.

My crime would be that of observation, I explained. Peeping through windows, I might have witnessed something as it happened. And even though I may have never reported it, I did sometimes succeed in retribution.

And wouldn’t your retribution be a crime? he asked, concerned more about his own welfare.

Let’s not talk about this anymore, I suggested. I can tell that you’re uncomfortable.

I’m fine, he tried to reassure me.

No, you’re not, I replied. Move on. I’m sure you have questions that you’d like to ask.

"We will revisit this later, he said, thinking that he had control of the situation. But yes, I do have many questions."

Ask away, I encouraged.

When was the last time that you peeped through someone’s window? he began.

Last night.

Last night? he repeated. Was this someone new, or had you been there before?

I had been there before and wanted to return, I answered. He intrigued me.

Was he someone you knew or a stranger? he asked.

A stranger, although we will know each other intimately soon enough, I confirmed.

Care to elaborate?

Not right now. Maybe later, I replied. I’m assuming that you’ll want to see me more than once.

Nothing can be determined or diagnosed from just one session. I think you have much more to say, and I’m sensing that you’re ready to talk about it. I’m not sure yet if you actually want professional help or if you’re looking for an audience or a sounding board, he said. I do think it would be beneficial for you to keep coming back until we can determine what it is that you think you want or need.

I agree.

We still have a little time. Do you prefer that I continue asking you questions, or would you rather just talk?

Go ahead and ask your questions for now, I encouraged. If I’m not ready to discuss something, we can table it for later.

How old are you? He began the getting to know you series of questions.

42, and you?

Again, this isn’t about me. My age doesn’t matter, he responded.

If I were to guess, I’d say that we’re probably the same age, I continued. Am I right?

Good guess. Although I’m assuming that you checked me out online before making your appointment.

I smiled, but not for the reason he thought. Yes, I had checked him out. In fact, I had checked him out more thoroughly than he could have ever imagined.

I did my homework, I answered.

Are you married? Ever been married? he questioned. Or in a relationship?

Never married. You do realize that I’m gay, right? Although I guess I could be in a gay marriage. Or, for that matter, in a straight marriage, but still messing around with guys like so many married men do, I said, hoping for a reaction and getting none. It’s been years since I’ve been in a relationship if you could call it that.

Care to elaborate?

Is that your signature phrase? I asked. Care to elaborate?

He just looked at me – studied me.

As I said earlier, I’d rather watch than participate, I continued.

Then what I’m hearing you say is that you are not a giving partner in a relationship? he summarized.

No, or at least not after the first few weeks, if I’m being honest, I replied. At the start, I might be the perfect partner, but then I get bored and am ready to discard them.

I’m impressed that you realize that about yourself. But it saddens me to hear you admit to being cold and distant, he commented.

I didn’t think you were supposed to express your feelings one way or the other, I remarked.

You’re right. And you did say at the start of this session that your parents were cold. I assume now that it was to prepare me for what’s to come.

Cold was an understatement, but in time he would come to realize that.

To answer your question, no relationships to speak of. Sexual encounters with strangers are quick and noncommittal. I never ask names. And if they do, I often lie. No small talk or lingering once the act is done. I think I prefer being alone, I explained.

Living alone? he asked. Solo sex?

Yes, I answered. Speaking of relationships, I see that you’re wearing a wedding band. Are you happily married?

I already knew the answer but was curious as to how he would respond. I also knew that I had stepped over the line and that he would most likely shut me down. He shifted in his chair and crossed his leg, almost like an involuntary way of protecting himself.

Yes, I’m married. I certainly can’t deny that since it’s obvious by the ring on my finger, he said in a measured tone. But anything else about my personal life is off-limits. Understood?

I nodded my head and pretended to consent.

Do you masturbate when you’re looking through someone’s window? he asked bluntly.

Whoa! That’s usually a question saved for the second or third session, I said, with a laugh. But yes, sometimes. Although more often than not, it happens once I’m back home, and I don’t have to worry about being seen or caught.

I’m curious. Are there that many people who leave their blinds open or don’t have any coverings on their windows? he asked. I mean, I have blinds on all of my windows, so no one would be able to see in if they tried. I would think most everyone else would do that as well.

So you’re saying that you have never forgotten to close your blinds? Or that you were careful to lower them all the way down to the bottom? I asked. Did you ever leave the blinds open on the back of your home, thinking that no one was supposed to be back there?

I keep telling you that this isn’t about me, he said, clearly not realizing that it was very much about him.

You’re the one who brought it up, I argued. I’ll tell you what, go outside tonight after dark and try to look through your blinds. Are they mini-blinds or the wider slat kind? Never mind, it doesn’t matter.

Why not? he asked with interest.

Because blinds have two to three strings that hold the slats together. There is a small hole that they thread through, and while it won’t give you a panoramic view, I think you’ll find you can still see enough, even when they are closed, I explained. Although maybe not enough to record a video.

He looked at me as if I had just spoken in tongues. But I knew that there was still enough doubt as well as curiosity. He would check tonight.

Not all blinds close tightly, especially the last few slats, for some reason, I continued. And often windows on the back of a home are left open, uncovered. Of course, that could also mean it’s easier for me to be seen, standing there in the dark.

Video? he asked in horror. You have videos of people inside their homes? Doing what?

All sorts of things. Getting dressed, having sex, watching TV – to name a few, I offered. Some are more interesting than others and that video gives me something juicy to enjoy over and over again.

He sat there like a statue. And yet, I could see the wheels turning as he debated how much he wanted to know.

Do you have a lot of videos? he asked.

"Not that many. At least, not compared to every through-the-window experience that I’ve had, I replied. Video cameras in the past were not conducive to that sort of thing – too bulky. Phones, on the other hand, work fine. I guess I didn’t start recording anyone until a few years ago."

I think that’s a crime. Recording someone without their knowledge, he said.

Maybe, but how would a private eye get away with it as they looked for evidence on a cheating spouse? Or homes and businesses with cameras set up to deter crime?

Now that you’ve brought it up, aren’t you afraid of being recorded by someone’s camera, even if it’s accidental? he asked.

Of course. It has become riskier over the years – and yet that challenge adds another level of excitement, I explained. You may not have an exterior camera, but one of your neighbors could. And although their camera probably wouldn’t catch me in the act, it might see my car or record me walking across a yard.

How do you find out if they have a camera if you don’t know for sure? he asked, uncrossing his leg and leaning forward in his chair.

First of all, I stay away from commercial areas. Most businesses these days have cameras. And if they don’t, then several of their neighboring businesses do. As far as residential, people proudly display those small alarm company signs announcing they have protection. And if I see a sign, then I’m careful until I know for sure whether they have a camera as well.

But how? he interrupted as I put my hand up to signal that I was not done.

"Sometimes I’ve pulled off to the side of the road and walked up to someone’s door to tell them that I had car trouble but had already called for help – explaining that I didn’t want them to be alarmed by my car parked in front of their