The Psychology of Voyeurism

“You ever study back in the stacks?” Vishal asks you, as the two of you meet up by the library’s entrance.

He’s got the usual pile of books tucked under his arm, including a number of texts on abnormal psych that you’ll need to cover for next week.

“I know there are a couple study rooms back there,” you say. “You want to get one?”

“Oh, those aren’t the real stacks,” Vishal says, dropping his voice a fraction as he walks past the first of the bookshelves. “That’s just the surface, the tip of the iceberg, where people can still talk and make noise without getting murdered in cold blood. No, we’re going to the real stacks.”

“So the place you’re talking about…” you point at a stairwell heading down, deep into the many layered basement beneath the main library.

“Yeah, the silent underbelly,” Vishal whispers, beginning to descend the steps. “Tread lightly, because even loud footsteps will piss people off.”

The two of you head down a couple flights of stairs, until you’re five levels beneath the ground. You can almost feel the weight of the quietness down here, with even the typical sounds of pipes running or electricity humming absent, much less any hint of chatter. You stare out into the expanse of bookstacks, and under the dim lighting, it seems almost endless.

“Where are we heading?” you whisper, as Vishal leads you into the stacks proper, rows of old journals passing like a blur, marking the decades in the blink of an eye.

Vishal only puts his fingers up to his lips. He gets his phone out and writes the message: Not much further. No talking now. I’m serious about them killing you.

You nod grimly, and follow him through a winding path that loops around a number of desks with students hunched over them, working in complete quiet. You eventually find a small wooden desk that’s unoccupied, and Vishal gently pulls out the chairs, making sure that no noise is made in the process.

Weird place to study, you write on your phone.

It’s a place for serious study, he replies, grinning. No pretty girls to distract us here.

So, what do we start with? you ask.

Paraphilic disorders, Vishal says, flipping open his copy of the DSM-5. Let’s split them half and half. You start with the voyeuristic disorder, and I’ll start with exhibitionistic.

You open up your own copy of the DSM-5 and begin reading, taking diligent notes as you go through the reading and some of the other supporting documents that Vishal brought down. As you work through the text, you learn that voyeurism is the most common illicit sexual behavior, and that its treatment often involves the use of **** that inhibit sexual hormones. You soon find yourself sucked into a tangent as you read more about Gonadotropin-releasing hormone agonists and the biochemical mechanisms through which it decreases pituitary production of luteinizing hormone...

A soft grunt-like noise distracts you from your reading, and you look up, giving Vishal a sharp look of surprise. He looks back at you, shrugging his shoulders as if to say wasn’t me, and then he pulls out his phone and writes: You’re becoming a regular of the stacks

But what was the noise? you write back, just as you hear another noise. It’s the faintest of moans, coming from somewhere far in the distance. You add to your message: I think it’s our duty as regulars to go kill whoever it is.

You’re right. Let’s investigate, Vishal says, silently getting up from the desk.

The two of you stand at attention, keeping your ears perked for any hint of sound. The moan comes again, if that’s what it is, not ten seconds later, and the two of you meet eyes, wordlessly heading for the source of the noise. You move through the stacks playing this strange version of Marco Polo, pausing every couple seconds to listen for the muffled moans—but you’re sure that they’re moans now, the noise having grown incrementally louder as the two of you hone in on the source.

Then, you start hearing the slaps and thumps, the sure sounds of sex.

It’s Vishal who spots her first, and he points at the girl through the layers of bookshelves. The two of you crouch down, barely able to make out between the books the outline of a brunette babe getting railed against the stacks. Her mouth is covered by a rough masculine hand, the source of the muffled moans, and her twin pigtails fly with the rhythmic beat of the pounding the guy’s giving her.

You suddenly recall what you read about voyeurism, and wonder if you should be subject to a psychiatrist… but you reassure yourself, reminding yourself that a person has to be a voyeur for at least six months before they can be diagnosed. You could watch them for five months straight and still be safe!

Then, she suddenly swivels her head, locking eyes with you, and you realise with a start that you recognise her. This is Lucy, Christina’s roommate! She moans into the man’s hand again, and then gives you a seductive wink.

This is a classic field study in exhibitionism, Vishal writes on his phone. I say we don’t disrupt them, or we risk losing our research subjects.

Agreed, you reply. Shall we get our books and study here?

That’s a capital idea, Vishal writes.

That’s how you manage to spend the next hour sitting on the floor of the stacks with Vishal, silently reading about all kinds of sexual deviancies, the sight of beautiful girl getting fucked always just a casual look away.

Lucy +15
Vishal +10