A Birthday Fantasy 004

Chelsea knew that he was struggling. She tried to put on a normal front. She could tell he was trying, but there were unmistakable signs that he was having deep difficulties. The most noticeable was his lack of desire. He had not touched her other than to respond to her touch since that weekend. They had not made love, played, or even sat and snuggled as they used to do. She was feeling abandoned.

Several weeks later, they received a phone call from the FBI. An agent wanted to talk to them about the incident. He offered to come to their house. He came, accompanied by a female agent. They sat in the den and the agent had explained that he was investigating a series of situations similar to theirs that had occurred over the past three years across the US. Dan asked the obvious question.

"Why? No ransom? They could not have made enough money to cover the cost of that kind of setup?"

The agent had taken a convertible laptop from his case and turned it toward Chelsea and Dan.

"We have been watching since we got your case. This showed up on the internet yesterday."

He started a video and after a very professional introduction and splash screen, Chelsea gasped as she saw herself, in the room, with the 4 young black men. The video had been edited together from the views of the four cameras. The editting showed her smoking the meth pipe and then as she was having sex with the men, her begging and then urging them to fuck her harder and deeper. Tears filled her eyes as she watched. Dan's face was grim.

"How much more of that is there?"

"If they hold true to form, they will continue releasing new films over the next few months edited from the video they got."

"Can't you shut that crap down?"

"It is on a server somewhere in southeast Asia. We have no way. The site is one of about 8 that we know of that are using video put together from cases like yours. They are collecting millions of dollars from people who pay subscriptions to their site to access the video. That is how they can afford to run these scams."

Dan shook his head.

"What do we do?"

"At this point there is nothing you can do. Once this stuff hits the internet, it is impossible to remove."

"Christ."

"We just wanted you to be aware of what was going on so you didn't get surprised if someone close to you or an employer happens onto this stuff."

Chelsea sobbed. Dan put his arm around her.

"And there is nothing we can do."

"No. We don't get much cooperation from the authorities in these countries."

Dan nodded.

Chelsea looked up.

"What about the woman called Twilla?"

"I can't say much. She had contracted for a fantasy as well. She was a victim like you."

"And Lucille."

"As far as we can tell, Lucille was part of the crew that put this thing together. Apparently she crossed someone and got herself in trouble. Videos of her being tortured are starting to appear as well."

Chelsea broke down again in deep wracking sobs.

The agents stood, gathered their things and expressed their apologies. Dan walked the agents to the door and thanked them again for their help. He closed the door and stood facing the door for several minutes.

Chelsea stood across the room, watching him carefully. She desperately wanted to hold him and comfort him. She started toward him, as he turned. She saw his face. She saw the tight line of his jaw. He saw the dead flat look in his eyes as he looked at her. He walked past her and up the stairs. She heard a door shut and then lock. She knew it wasn't the door to their bedroom. It was one of the guest rooms. Her shoulders dropped and she stood, sobbing helplessly.

EPILOG

It had been almost a year and Dan was coming up on another birthday. He had taken a day off from work. The images and memories of that weekend had flamed up like an old ember as his birthday approached. The last 11 months had been been torturous.

He knew that Chelsea had set up the fantasy in good faith. She wanted to provide him with a special birthday, one that they would never forget. That had certainly come true. He massaged the end of the little finger that was missing the last joint. It was healed completely, but was a constant reminder of what had occurred.

The one constant through all of the nightmares and bad memories was of Chelsea, fucking and sucking with complete abandon, without any semblance of regret, and screaming for the men to fuck her harder and deeper. It was an image he couldn't shake, even with the months therapy they had sought. No matter what they tried or how much they talked, it couldn't shake those images.

Chelsea was diagnosed with PTSD. The psychiatrist she was seeing said that it was made even worse by the meth she had consumed while she was being raped and abused. Dan knew that the hadn't been much help. He had withdrawn from her, and he could hardly stand to touch her, much less be intimate. She had withdrawn deeper and deeper until the psychiatrist called Dan and told him that he was afraid Chelsea's mental state was such that she might become suicidal. At the psychiatrists urging Dan had signed the committal papers to put her into a facility where she would be safe and continue to receive counseling and support. She was slowly but surely getting better, but the psychiatrist warned Dan over and over that she would probably never be the same person that she was before the incident.

Now he sat at home, in the big house alone. He was not depressed. He was mad. He thought about the man who had so easily beguiled Chelsea into signing the contracts. He thought about the man, Tig, who was obviously running the entire operation. His anger and resolve to do something about the situation continued to fester.

The longer he inhabited the house by himself, the more he wanted to wreak some kind of revenge on the men who had perpetrated this assault on his whole world. But he was a 55-year-old investment banker. He knew he had no skills. He was not a fighter. He had no resources that would lend itself to seeking any kind of revenge. He was slowly but surely tearing his own self apart with no real understanding of how to heal himself.

So, facing another birthday alone, he was trying to find some solace when he received a strange phone call. It was an unknown number from out of state. It came late in the evening. Dan started to let the call go unanswered, but something caused him to answer the call.

"Yeah. What do you want?"

"Is this Dan Holloway?"

"Yeah? Who's this?"

"Mr. Holloway. My name is Richard Ferguson. We have something in common."

"What?"

"A man called Tig and some unpleasant memories."

Dan was silent for a few seconds and when he answered, his tone and voice were flat and very controlled.

"What do you want?"

"Revenge Mr. Holloway. I want revenge."

&&&&&

This ends the Birthday Fantasy. It begins the quest for revenge. At least one more story and perhaps more. Stay tuned.