Sometimes Taking A Life Means Saving Another

Relatively Recent History

I read a book some years ago that made an impression on me. It was not the kind of impression that would give me pleasant dreams, or nostalgia for a similar scenario. This impression seldom leaves my consciousness. It is there as an incentive to protect.

I cannot give credit to the author, for I don’t remember the title of the book or the person. Some of you may recognize what I am about to relate, and know who the author was. Without going to details I will give enough to describe the context of what I need to convey.

In the book a man was condemned and soon to be executed, or at least spend his life in prison. He tried to clear his conscience to some extent by confessing to having participated in a debauchery that he later very much regretted. In his past he allowed himself to go with a man who had offered an “easy fuck”. He followed the man to a place where he was escorted into a room with a woman. When left alone with her she indicated that she was held captive. She related to him that he should take his pleasure, for, if there were any indication of her not providing what he wanted, she would be severely punished

In this case, at least in the scenario proposed by the author of the book, the person relating the story could not have done much aside from calling the police at the nearest access to a telephone once he was clear of the bad scene. This was before cell phones were in existence.

Old History

I grew up loving women. First, there was my mother. I know that she was not a saint, but damn it, she was close enough for me.

Then there was my older sister. I was a pain in her ass for a while, but it did not take me long to appreciate her true value to me. I was in my early teens when I realized that she was great, she was beautiful, and a valuable asset to our being. At that point I had a rare opportunity to give my fifteen-year-old life to save her in a particularly dire scenario. Lucky for us, I was not called on it. All my early life I had the opportunity to learn to love, respect, and to obey women, mostly in a benign way. There were exceptions.

All I am saying here is that women in my life have been, well, “my life.”

The Present

I don’t know why I love women. Why do I want to protect them and to serve them?

I have spent most of my life being rational and logical. That is the way I am, that is what my profession required, and that is what I provided. But that did not detach me from my demonstration of love for women all along. My god, you just can’t imagine!

It is not possible, but I try to put myself into the situation of the condemned man in my introduction. For one thing, I would not talk with an asshole who hints of having a female slave that will do anything, as in this case. I would not associate with sleaze balls, at least not in a social environment. If there had been any hint of this sort of thing, I would have contacted the police right away. But this is 20/20 hindsight.

Going on with the unlikely scenario, this sleaze ball offered an “easy pussy” for a fee. Ok, a prostitute is not my thing, but as long as it is consensual, I have no problem with her earning a living by it. Then again, I despise pimps. So, right away, this line of thinking got me going into a bad way. This guy who offered the pussy was not a pimp, just one stupid schmuck trying to make a few bucks. I don’t know which is worse.

The man in the story reluctantly went along with the (pimp) schmuck to see this pussy for hire. Without going to a lot of detail, I will say this: The woman in position to provide the service was a true captive. She was starved, cruelly treated, and she feared for her life for a good reason. The man did not partake the dubious pleasure after he realized that the woman was a true captive in this situation. He went along with the ruse to give her a fair time, yet he did nothing to help her to escape, which concludes the episode in the book. She ended up as a carcass along some highway, and he awaiting execution by the state for an unrelated crime.

Back to the scenario that this guy entered. What if I ran into such, where I knew that a woman was kept truly against her will? At any time I would have struck the perpetrators with as much devastation as I could summon under the circumstances. Some years ago I might have been gallant and tried to save her, and may have had myself and her killed in the process. Later on, with my exposure to training in law enforcement, I would have tried to save her using some other means. Now, I would try to call the police, and be there to protect her and try to be a witness.

The range of potential reactions change depending on hormones, strength, reasoning ability, and circumstances. Even now, after appreciating the implications, I feel the need to really punish these fictitious men involved in this situation. I realize that I must not be a judge, yet I feel judgmental. It is because I am protective of women. I cannot allow mistreatment of females under any circumstances. That was one of the reasons why I exited law enforcement: being that close to temptation to punish the evil.

There is justifiable homicide. This would have been one of the situations where I think that I would have no regrets having taken a life or two. Maybe. Could I live with it? Could I live with not having done it?