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On the monitor, the action took place in the far right-hand side of the shot, as if the camera were pointed slightly in the wrong direction.
“I don’t know,” Walt said. “Maybe they didn’t have good producers like you. It’s a homemade sex tape, not a cinematic production.”
On the screen, Victoria Ford slapped the whip against her lover’s back and shoulders. To Avery, it looked more playful than violent. She watched Victoria move down Cameron’s body and tap him again with the whip, this time on the buttocks and upper thighs. Then, she stopped.
“Wait a second,” Avery said. “Rewind it.”
Walt looked at the screen. “The video?”
“Yeah. Rewind it a bit.”
Walt ran his finger over the mouse pad and clicked the reverse arrow until the movie ran backward for a few seconds.
“There,” Avery said.
She watched the screen as Victoria brought the tasseled whip down across Cameron Young’s backside. About to strike again, Victoria instead stopped and walked forward where she bent down to place her ear by his mouth.
“Play that part again and turn the volume up,” Avery said.
Walt rewound again and increased the volume. This time, when Victoria brought the whip down, the muffled voice of Cameron Young could be heard. The word he spoke was difficult to make out, but as soon as he uttered it Victoria lowered the whip and bent down to speak to him.
“What did he say?” Avery asked.
Walt shook his head. “I couldn’t make it out.”
He reversed the video again and they both leaned forward to listen more carefully. The whistle of the whip preceded a stinging thwack. Then Cameron Young spoke the single word.
Cinnamon.
“Cinnamon?” Walt said. “Did he say cinnamon?”
“He did,” Avery said.
“What the hell does that mean?”
Avery looked over at Walt. “It’s their safe word.”
Walt raised his eyebrows.
“Couples who partake in BDSM sex create a safe word—a random word they utter whenever things are getting too rough or dangerous. As soon as the word is spoken, the game is over.”
On the monitor, Victoria Ford crouched down next to Cameron Young, dropped the whip on the floor, and unbuckled the restraints that held his wrists to the bottom of the boarding horse. A moment earlier, she was delivering what Avery interpreted as playful punishment. But one slash of the whip had gone too far and they quickly ended things. Now she was rubbing his back.
Are you okay?
Victoria’s voice came through loudly from the speakers. Too loudly, as Walt had maxed out the volume a moment earlier trying to capture Cameron Young’s muffled voice. He quickly turned the volume down. On the screen, Cameron Young climbed off the apparatus and he and Victoria walked off screen. A door could be heard opening, likely the bathroom. The video played on in silence.
“He got spooked,” Avery said. “It looked pretty innocent until that last strike with the whip. It went a little too far.”
Walt sat back on the couch, rubbing a hand over his chin. Finally, he looked at Avery. “So their role-playing had limits.”
“It appears that way. Which doesn’t jive with the crime scene and the violent whip marks noted on Cameron Young’s body.”
Avery and Walt continued to stare at the monitor. The spanking horse sat in the otherwise empty shot of the studio. Victoria and Cameron had disappeared a few seconds earlier.
“Why didn’t they stop the video when they were done?” Avery asked.
“What do you mean?”
