"Dear Diary..." I guess that's how you're supposed to start these. My life has changed recently and I feel compelled to document why. This change stems from an experience I was forced to live out. It is an experience that is troubling; one that most would find highly disturbing, vulgar, disgusting. Yet I no longer feel repulsed by it, and perhaps even pleased it happened. Due to the nature of it though, I have been forced to write this anonymously. No minors should be allowed to read this!
As a disclaimer: I will attempt to remember conversations and write them out in a way that is most readable. But I can't guarantee exact accuracy on the things that happened, as it has been over a year ago now. Lastly, I will skip the mundane. During this ordeal there were many uninteresting moments, and you can assume I ate, slept and relieved myself like anyone else.
There is not much you need to know about me for this experience to be properly relayed, other than I have always been a very ambitious person and was very successful financially at a young age. Otherwise, I have the usual problems any other person might have. Some might call me socially awkward, though in a few cases my good looks have made up for it. Unfortunately the latter is in large part due to my own vanity.
This story starts at a bus stop. Anyone who has worked their way up to the social elite will tell you, they got there with frugality. In my case, I was not use to taking the bus, but had good reason to try it. There was a bus stop not far from the gated community where I lived, and my car was in the shop due to a minor accident. It was mid-winter, the roads were slick... Still, I make no excuse for my foolish driving.
I arrived early to the bus stop; around 6:30. I intended to get into work before anyone else in order to review a report put together by the management team. I was part owner of a successful business consulting firm, and at 34, was looking for a very early retirement. The report waiting for me at my desk would help determine who would take over my responsibilities, and also give me a better idea about the direction the company was heading. Hopefully I could use it to show justification for my departure to my business partner, who also happened to be my ex-wife. We had ended our marriage amicably enough, and for a while things were going fine at work, but now she was becoming increasingly more difficult to work with.
I must have been waiting at the bus stop for about 10 minutes, when a black van pulled up to where I was standing. It was still dark out, so it took me off guard. Besides, I had been reading the news on my smartphone to keep my mind off the bitter cold, and I wasn't paying attention.
"Excuse me sir, can you help me with some directions?" the driver asked, rolling down the passenger side window-- a slight chuckle in her voice when she saw me jump from being startled.
"Maybe. I'm terrible at giving directions, but my phone might help," I replied, trying to seem helpful.
The van shook a little, and when the driver detected that I had noticed the movement, she looked back and spoke something in Spanish. Shortly thereafter, the van's back doors opened, and 2 men came out from it. I couldn't see them well; they were dressed in black and must have had something covering their heads. The situation took me a while to comprehend, and by the time I realized the men were trouble, all I had time to do was swing wildly at them. The swing caused me to lose balance on the icy sidewalk and I fell hard on my back. My phone fell too, causing it to crack open when it hit the pavement.
For a moment, I struggled with the men who were now on top of me. One of them was trying to knock me out by planting his fist on my jaw, while the other tried to hold me down. Finally, someone I hadn't noticed managed to get behind me. I knew immediately it was over. The strong smell of chemicals emanating from the rag now covering my face made my head spin. I tried not to inhale, but my heart had been pounding, and I needed the oxygen.
That was all I could remember from that morning.
The next thing I remember was waking up in a dark room. It had an overhead flickering light that buzzed loudly. The noise was particularly annoying with the pounding headache I had. My lip felt swollen, and I could taste my own blood. The room was bare, except for a table, and a camera fastened to the ceiling. I was tied up against a wall, and I was beginning to panic. What was happening? Undoubtedly this was too illegal to be a joke. My mind raced at who could possibly be behind this and why.
I wanted to scream. The coward in me wanted more, and I had the urge to wet myself. But I needed to have some level of control over the situation, and managed to keep my composure. So I stared at the camera. Someone was at the other end of it. Maybe my intense stares would somehow scare my captors into surrendering and letting me go.
It seemed to work, because after a moment, the large metallic door across the small room clicked open. A woman walked in. She was beautiful, and I admit it caused me to relax for a minute. Maybe she had made a mistake. But when she talked, I immediately remembered the voice-- she was the driver of the van.
"So, Mr. Scowls has awakened?"
"I'm sorry, do I know you? Who put you up to this? I'm in no mood for-"
"Shut up!" she snapped back. She held up a device she was holding and placed it to my chest. I felt a sharp pain, like a thousand vibrating needles, that reached all the way down to my rib cage. She had electrocuted me with something, and it hurt like hell.
"The less you talk, the less pain you'll receive." She told me, releasing the shock from my chest. Her face was emotionless, but her eyes told me she was serious.
She motioned to someone who must have been waiting at the door. The person who entered caused me to gasp. She too was extremely beautiful, and between them, something didn't add up. I looked back at my captor, and for the first time I was beginning to really notice her. She was a blonde, and looked like she stepped out of a magazine. Her eyes were piercingly blue, and her lips pouting. She was wearing a white lab coat, but it was open, and the shirt and designer jeans under it were tight fitting. Clearly she was in amazing shape, though I could tell she was older, maybe in her 40s. And what appeared to be my captor's assistant was a brunette with green "come hither" eyes. She was wearing ridiculously revealing clothing that showed off her large breasts and long legs. She mustn't have been older than 25.
"Did you bring all of the vials?" asked my captor to her assistant.
"Yup", she replied, opening her hand to reveal 3 vials and a syringe.
"Great. All you need to do is give him the accelerator for the first week, the other one should be administered every morning."
I perked up from hearing this. Every morning? A week? Drugs?
"What are you ..?!" I began, but without looking at me, my captor placed the device that had inflicted pain earlier up to my neck. Her threat was enough to stop me mid-sentence. I inhaled sharply. There was no way I was taking that thing to my throat. Now I was getting really angry. I didn't care how hot these women were, if this was a practical joke, someone just made my shit list. And if it was my ex trying to get back at me for my wandering eye, she had gone too far. I would see to it she would regret this dearly.
