by Drew Sera
I heard the door open from the garage and froze.
“Amy? Princess, I’m home,” J.P. called out.
I found my voice and yelled that I was in his den. My heart was pounding as I heard him coming down the hall. He was saying something about how his meeting with Anthony didn’t go as well as he had hoped, but he stopped talking when he saw me sitting on the floor surrounded by his obsession.
“What are you doing, Amy?” he asked calmly.
I couldn’t help but laugh as I looked down at all of the pictures.
“Well, I was pulling down the extra monitor for the garage sale when the cord caught on a box.” I held my hands up before letting them fall to my lap. “All of this fell, and I’ve just been looking at it…trying to make sense of whatever the hell I’m looking at!” I yelled out of frustration.
J.P. crouched down and began carefully gathering the pictures as if they were as precious as gold. Was he serious?
He was meticulously looking at the back of the photos as he organized them into a few small stacks on the floor. He wasn’t talking, just quietly organizing.
“J.P.?” I said his name, but he didn’t reply.
He smiled as he looked at the pictures.
“J.P. we need to talk about this.”
“No, we don’t. There’s nothing to talk about. These are mine.”
Mine? Suddenly all of those “not mine yet” pictures came rushing in. Having all of these photoshopped pictures of him and Anthony was his “proof” that Anthony was his. Or that he had scened and played with Anthony.
“J.P.,” I said as I reached out and tried pulling the pictures out of his hands.
He held the pictures tightly in his hands and yelled, “Don’t touch these!”
I retracted my hands, and they naturally went to my stomach. As the tears ran down my face, I was unsure of what to do or say.
“J.P., sweetheart, this isn’t healthy. He isn’t yours.”
I felt a sting, and when I blinked, I was looking at the wall to the side of me. When I slowly turned my head forward to look at him, I realized that he had slapped me in the face. J.P.’s eyes were black and determined to prove me wrong.
“He’s. Mine.”
I carefully shook my head at him.
“He’s not.” I swallowed hard and picked up one of Anthony’s younger pictures and flicked it at J.P. “He wasn’t yours in the spring of 1996…or late last month,” I said as I tossed a picture at him with last month’s date on it. “You need help, J.P. This,” I motioned at the pictures with my hands, “This isn’t healthy. You need to get rid of them.”
“I know this is a hard concept for you to wrap your mind around, Amy, but I need these pictures. You remember our needs, don’t you? I have needs that you have failed to meet. Having these pictures fulfills a need…one that I can rely on to be met without your useless hand in it.”
I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing.
“I love you, J.P. I want to be with you. I’m sorry that I have disappointed you, but I will continue to try. But I need you to try to do without these pictures.”
“Amy, I love you, too. But I need you to understand, or accept, the fact that I need these photos.”
I sighed and helped him carefully gather the photos. Even as I did it, I knew that I was enabling him to continue to act on something so unhealthy. I kept my mouth closed, and when I handed him back the pictures that I had gathered, he pulled me into his arms and kissed my sore, warm cheek.
“I love you, Amy. Thank you for understanding.”
Understanding? I didn’t understand this but knew that it was best for me to remain quiet. As I stared at the ceiling while trying to fall asleep, I thought about all I had learned tonight: J.P.’s obsession with Anthony ran deeper than I obviously had a clue about and that he had a vulnerable side.
Chapter Twenty-Four
October 2013
J.P.
I needed to keep Amy on a short leash right now. She found my pictures, and she immediately thought the worst of them instead of trying to understand them. I knew she thought lesser of me for having them. But it was my little fantasy and when did a little fantasy ever hurt anyone?
Through my encouragement, Amy continued working on a book she had started and stopped a few times this past summer. I thought it would be good for her to focus on that, rather than obsess over my pictures.
While she was working on the book, I began searching online for quick ways to earn money. Most of the searches returned results that I was familiar with or already tried, and then there was one that seemed absurd: selling someone.
I narrowed my eyes at it and glanced over my shoulder to glance at Amy. She sat at the desk on the opposite side of the room typing away as fast as her little fingers could go. So I could see Amy, I unplugged my laptop and sat down in the big recliner in the room then clicked on the link. I immediately got a notification that the link was broken and frowned at the screen. I checked my computer to make sure that I had my IP address blocker on before continuing.
I thought for a few minutes and then searched for “selling women from the United States to other countries.” This time I got a handful of hits and most made mention of a special portal where most of this information was housed, including sale ads. They all mentioned that I’d need a special browser called Tor to go further.
Fucking for real?
Was it like an eBay site for human trafficking? The more I clicked and thumbed through things, the further I got until I finally reached a point where I had to create a login. I quickly just used a series of letters and numbers and hit submit. A pop-up came onto the screen saying that they’d get back to me.
I rolled my eyes for having been so stupid to believe this fucked up shit was easily accessible online.
A few days later I got a very cryptic email that I noticed while checking through my email during my lunch break. The sender wasn’t one that I recognized, but I felt compelled to look at it closer when I got home from work.
After dinner with Amy, I excused myself to retreat to the den.
“Would you like to play tonight?” Amy asked as I began to leave the kitchen.
“Not tonight, princess. I have something I want to look at regarding my brother.”
“Okay, I understand. Maybe later.”
Amy’s voice trailed off as I turned the corner of the hall to my den. I purposely shut the door so she would know not to disturb me. I grabbed my laptop and sat down on the recliner before I booted it up. Before I opened anything else, I made sure my IP address blocker was turned on, then I opened up the email.
To access the full site, you must use this link and access code.
What the fuck was this even about? I didn’t know what I might see, and it was probably some virus or shit, but I had to look into it. I memorized the five-digit access code and clicked on the link.
I waited a few moments and a screen popped up recommending that before I go further that I was sure my IP address blocker was turned on. I confirmed that it was and clicked the next button. A portal popped up asking me for my username and the five-digit access code. Moments later I was staring at a very simple looking screen; it had a black background, and all of the text was in blue.
I found a menu and clicked on it. A handful of things appeared: Drugs, Arms, People, Jobs, Body. I swallowed hard and clicked on the “jobs” category. A ton of listings came up, and I clicked on a few to get a better idea on the type of jobs in this listing.
Job ID #642: Need cheating spouse gone $15,000
Job ID #643: Need employer to be involved in a non-life-threatening accident $3,000
Job ID #644: Need to pass college algebra $500
Job ID #645: Need coins stolen from a coin store $1,000
Jesus. These were listings for some sinister acts. I kept going and found a section for “job offers.”
Job Offer ID #837: Experienced arm robber $1,000+ depending on job
Job Offer ID #8
38: Professional car thief $5,000
Job Offer ID #839: Untraceable hacker $20,000
Job Offer ID #840: Identity theft. $5,000
Hmm…a hacker might come in handy. If I hired him maybe, he could get into Everett’s bank account. My money issues would be gone, and my brother would make it. But I had to assume that Everett had his computer pretty secure. Besides, I’d have to give up $20,000 just to hope for a chance. The “people” category was the one I went to next.
People ID #465: Selling Estonian female 19 y.o. $7,000
People ID #466: Selling Estonian female 21 y.o. with doctored birth certificate $6,000
People ID #467: Selling Russian female 19 y.o. $8,000
I continued to read in disbelief. $20,000 to rent a professional hacker, yet for $21,000 I could buy three women from other countries. This was mind-blowing to me but I continued reading.
People ID #532: Selling Chinese female 18 y.o. $4,000
People ID #533: Selling Indian female 18 y.o. educated $2,000
People ID #634: Selling Indian female 19 y.o. no education $5,000
Unreal. The educated females were less money than the ones without an education. I wondered if that’s because the ones with an education were more of a risk. My stomach was churning as I read through pages and pages of sales.
What made my eyes nearly fall out of my head were the listings for what some were willing to pay for a person. The details and prerequisites were staggering and very much like finding a needle in a haystack. But to those who found that needle, the money was hard to believe. Most of the buyers were located overseas. There were very few showing their location as the United States.
People ID #204: Need female 18-20. Will pay $5,000 on top of the $30,000 if she doesn’t have any family. Must speak English fluently. If she is American will pay $50,000.
People ID #205: Need female 18-30. American, educated, brown hair, blue eyes, no family, submissive personality. Will pay $100,000.
People ID #206: Need female 18-25. American, no education preference, blonde, green eyes, no family, submissive/docile personality. Will pay $100,000.
People ID #207: Need male 18. Need for labor, no education preference. Will pay $5,000 or $10,000 if American.
As I went through these screens, I realized just about all of them would pay more if the individual was American. I moved to the “body” category, and it made my stomach hurt even more. It was full of desperation and last-ditch efforts.
Body ID #217: Need kidney $25,000 - Philippines
Body ID #218: Need kidney $50,000 half wired to you during surgery and the other half after a successful surgery - China
Body ID #219: Need kidney $60,000 payable after completion of successful surgery - Africa
Hmm…I had two functioning kidneys. Maybe I’d be a match for someone offering top dollar. I shut the laptop down and leaned my head back in the chair and thought.
The kidney seemed possible…but they were all in other countries, and I’d be too nervous to trust someone to perform that surgery overseas. The more I thought about it, the kidney thing seemed like a bad idea.
I logged back in and looked at the people section again and focused on the Caribbean as the buyers’ region. I’ve seen plenty of documentaries, and the Caribbean is virtually unpoliced for this kind of shit. Once I narrowed it to the Caribbean, the list became more manageable to look at.
People ID #208: Need female for sex, virgin preference. Fair-skinned $50,000 if American $75,000
People ID #209: Need female. Brown hair, brown eyes, olive skin. No family. $60,000 or $80,000 if American
A soft knock on the door preceded it opening, and Amy appeared in the doorway. I casually closed out of what I was looking at and maximized the screen I had minimized that discussed my brother’s upcoming surgery.
“Hi, princess.”
I opened my arms and gave my leg a pat so she’d join me. I also wanted her to see what I had on my screen. She cuddled up on my lap and asked what I was looking at.
“Just some stuff on the operation. We’re getting so close. I think we’re going to have the money.”
“That’s great to hear. We’ll have the garage sale next weekend and will put all of that money towards your brother.”
“That’s the plan, princess.” I kissed her head. “Sweetheart, go get on the bed on your hands and knees. I’m going to fuck you hard tonight after I beat your ass.”
Amy smiled, and the blush on her cheeks made my cock twitch. As she headed to our room, I quickly logged off and shut my laptop down. I made my way to the bedroom feeling really good about what I saw tonight…the fact that there was still hope for the money my brother needed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
November 2013
J.P.
“Good morning, Paul,” Tammie’s cheery voice greeted me the moment I walked in.
“Hi, Tammie,” I replied.
I’m starting to look at my shifts with Tammie as an opportunity. Tammie was under thirty years old, had brown hair and blue eyes. She fit several buyers’ descriptions. She wasn’t quiet though, and a far cry from submissive or docile, in my opinion. She’s a bit too extroverted, and it looked like a lot of buyers were hoping for the shy, quiet types.
The buyers I inquired with wanted photos, of course. So, somehow, I needed to figure out how to get naked pictures of this woman. She was a natural flirt, and perhaps I could work that to my benefit.
“Tammie, you’re a sweetheart. Your husband sure is one lucky man,” I said during our lunch break when she offered me one of her home-baked cookies.
Just as I hoped, she blushed and smiled.
Hmm, maybe there is a quiet side to her after all.
“Thanks, Paul. He is pretty lucky, and I remind him often.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me, Tammie.”
“What?” she pretended to be shocked at my observation.
She was so easy to toy with. This almost wasn’t fair. But, if she’s going to open herself up like this, I was going to go for it. My brother’s life was at stake.
“If I had a girl like you, reminding me how lucky I am, I’d put you over my knee and spank your ass.” I glanced at her to see her reaction. Her lips were parted, hanging onto each word I said. “Then I’d give you a reminder that you’re lucky to have me,” I added.
I nonchalantly went back to my soup. That was really the first that I’ve flirted back with Tammie and now she was stunned. She liked it though, I could tell. Her nipples were hard under her tech scrub top.
“Come on, Tammie. You’re not the only one who can flirt.”
She nodded and smiled while blushing. I caught her looking at my hand.
“You never talk about a girlfriend or a wife, and you don’t have a ring. You aren’t married?”
“No, I’m not married.”
“Girlfriend?”
“I have an open relationship with someone,” I said.
And one with a dark, troubled younger man.
“I see,” Tammie said and went back to her lunch.
I knew it would only be a matter of time before she inquired more. And that’s what I wanted. I wanted her to seek me out.
It hadn’t even been a few hours since our lunch conversation when we had a lull in the pharmacy, and she started up a conversation.
“So, an open relationship means what, exactly?”
I took my glasses off and leaned against the counter with my arms folded.
“For us, it means we can see other people.”
“So, like dinner dates?”
“Yeah. And fuck buddies,” I said to her.
Tammie’s face blushed again, and I decided to move in. Just enough to get her thinking.
“It doesn’t mean I love her any less. It’s just a different need. I’m all about needs. Sometimes I need different things, and she understands and accepts it. Just like I accept that about her.” She was all ears. “She doesn’t like me to go down on her, but I lov
e that act. So, I go elsewhere to do it. Things like that. And at the end of the day, we always return home to one another.”
“Oh, wow. What woman wouldn’t want to have her pussy licked every day?”
“I know, right?” I played along. “She also won’t let me take naked pictures of her. I love the female form and think all bodies are beautiful.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet you think all bodies are beautiful.”
I nodded and then made it obvious that I was looking at her tits. She giggled and playfully slapped my forearm. Fuck, this junior high girl crush shit was going to kill me. I had to be patient and controlled if I wanted to get some naked pictures.
The day finally ended, and I found myself at home taking the leather strap to Amy’s ass before I fucked her while she was tied to the headboard.
While Amy was in the bathtub, I was looking at more of the “people” listings. My phone vibrated, and I glanced at it. It was a picture of Tammie, topless.
Tammie: What do you think?
Paul: I think you’re hot. Where’s your husband?
Tammie: He’s asleep on the couch. Fell asleep watching TV.
God, could this have been any easier? She felt neglected by her husband but suddenly had a man willing to pay attention to her.
Paul: That’s too bad he’s asleep. But I’m glad he’s asleep. That means I get the picture.
Tammie: You’ll delete the pic right?
Paul: Of course, it’s our secret.