Showing posts with label sexual abuse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sexual abuse. Show all posts

Thursday, February 11, 2016

Kill or Be Killed–The Pervasiveness of Predators in Our Society

“There are enough movies, websites, books, and blogs on how to catch a man.  It’s only fair to teach a young lady how not to be caught – at least not by the wrong one” – B.D. .Foley (retired CIA operations officer), “CIA Street Smarts for Women”

He was going to hurt her so bad before he killed her so dead, and all she could think of was how hot his kiss had been in the dream and how delicate the touch of his finger was as it traced down her body.”
― Thea Harrison, “Dragon Bound”

The following story contains coarse language and sexual content that may be offensive to some readers. 

Readers offended by such language should not proceed unless one has a heart for those who fall to the sick desires of the broken and a desire to make this world a better one, safer from the predators that exist all around us.

As with all things I write, this one is written for an important purpose.

The #1206 “fiction” series continues …


“Anything good happening in the news?”, a voice asked.

Abigail looked up from the news magazine she had been reading.  A man stood above her, smiling affably.

“Not a whole lot”, she replied, smiling back, “The usual panic about the world coming to an end.”

“How true”, he replied, his eyes locking onto hers, “That’s why I prefer to fill my head with positive things only.”

They chatted for a while and Abigail thought he was a pretty interesting, well-read guy.  He seemed interested in her and so she never thought anything of it when she offered up her cell number with a promise to get together over coffee later.


A few days later, Abigail found herself with the stranger again, this time in a small coffee shop.  He had seemed pretty insistent that they meet soon and she shrugged off his insistence as something typical of any go-getter.

They chatted easily over many subjects and she left the coffee shop after a few hours, not paying attention to the warning signs that were being screamed at her.


The texts followed soon after and were frequent and persistent.  What started as playful texts turned into suggestive texts and soon became extremely explicit.  While this would ordinarily have turned off many women, she had been in a couple of abusive relationships in her lifetime and she saw the texts as coming from someone showing a keen interest in her.  She responded in kind and their texting turned into highly erotic conversations.

Abigail felt like someone finally cared for her.


Over the next couple of weeks, the simple meeting in a book store turned into a series of sexual rendezvous.  She noticed that he often brought alcohol even though she protested that she often felt out-of-control with less than a glass of it.

“Drink up”, he said when she protested, “We’re all friends here.”

Time became a blur in their relationship and Abigail found that she was losing herself inside the ever-strengthening dominant personality of her new lover.  He had asked for a loan of her trailer and she had given it to him, not realizing that such a simple act of generosity also gave him leverage over her.

Their lover’s trysts began to change over time as well.  After they had met a number of times in different hotels and at her place, he suggested over a drink in their hotel room about taking a few photos for “a little fun”.  She didn’t think there was anything wrong with that and it seemed a little exciting so she agreed.

She posed for a number of photos in various stages of undress and total undress and as she did so, he told her how hot she was.

“Look at how hard you are making me”, he said as he continued to take photos.

“It feels good to feel wanted and to know I am turning him on”, she thought.


A few weeks later, she found herself responding to his demand to meet at the hotel again.  As she walked into the hotel, she found herself dreading what was coming next but she could stop herself. 

“What am I doing?”, she asked herself, “He demands that I show up and I do it even thought it doesn’t feel right.”

Sometime later and after a couple of drinks of gin, he began taking pictures of her again.

“Do you know what would be really hot?”, he asked.

“What?”, Abigail asked.

“I think you would look hot if you were tied up”, he said.

“I’m not sure”, Abigail said hesitatingly.

“Don’t worry”, he replied as he retrieved some cord from a bag, “You will like it.”

Abigail soon found herself bound hand and foot.

“Mmmmmmm”, he said, “You are hot.  Look how hard you are making me.”

After taking a number of photos, he laid his phone down and reaching into his overnight bag, pulled out a cane.

He struck her across the legs with it.

“You like that, don’t you?”, he said sternly.

Abigail’s eyes watered instantly at the sting and fear filled her body.  She now feared for her Life but didn’t know what would happen if she angered him.

She nodded silently and he whipped her again.

“You’re such a naughty girl”, he said, “You want this, don’t you, bitch?”

Abigail nodded.

“Answer me”, he commanded, “You want this, don’t you?”

“Yes”, she said quietly, “I want this.”

“Louder”, he commanded.

“Yes”, she said, “I want this.”

“Yes, you do”, he said and he proceeded to cane her across her legs as she howled in pain.

As she begged him to stop, he told her that he knew she really wanted to be a “bad girl” and he was going to help her live her fantasy.

Later, he untied her and held her through the night and in the morning they parted.

She drove home in silence, her body aching from the caning and her mind numb and confused.


He called a few days later, demanding that they get together again.  She replied that she felt uncomfortable with her last visit.  “In fact”, she told him, “I’m feeling very uncomfortable about seeing you again.”

“Well that’s a little too bad, isn’t it?”, he asked.

“What do you mean?’, Abigail asked fearfully.

“Wellllll”, he said, drawing his words out for effect, “If you don’t want to meet me, what do I do with all of these photos of you?  It would be a shame if these photos got leaked online, maybe to your friends or your business associates or maybe to your family.”

There was silence on the line.

“I’m staying at the usual hotel”, he said confidently and hung up.

Two hours later, Abigail found herself crying uncontrollably as he whipped her mercilessly.

As the evening wore one, he held her, telling her what a good girl she was.  She heard little of what said until he suggested that he felt it was time to discuss the company that she owned and how he felt he would do a better job of running it than she did.

She left in the morning, her body feeling the sting of the previous day’s activities while her mind was numb.


A week later, she stared at the phone as the texts from him came in.  He was demanding to see her again and interspersed within those texts, was telling her how important it was that she consider turning control of her company over to him.  He was also asking her for money for other ventures and she stared at her phone in absolute fear.

Suddenly another text appeared from another source.

“Just reaching out to say hi and to wish you an awesome day”, the text from Gabriel read.

Without a second thought, she got in her truck and drove three hours to see Gabriel and over many tears, confessed to what she had been experiencing.

Gabriel listened in stunned silence, his heart breaking over what he was hearing while at the same time, feeling the anger surging within him.

She explained how she had met up with the guy and how he worked at a not-for-profit that promoted computer services to small towns and other not-for-profit agencies.

After Abigail had finished her story, they both sat in silence, each reflecting on what had been confessed.

Gabriel cleared his throat and spoke quietly.

“You realize that if he did this to you, it is likely that he has done or is doing this to other women”, he said.

Abigail nodded silently.

“In his professional position, he also has many opportunities to find victims”, Gabriel said, his mind churning over the problematic possibilities.

Abigail nodded again in silence.

“I have something you need to read”, Gabriel said, “Let’s meet tomorrow.”

They hugged briefly and as they walked towards the door of the coffee shop, Gabriel stopped her.

“It is important that you know that you are a divine human being worthy of everything great.”, he said, “This guy is a predator who seeks to destroy others for his own sick needs.  Do you understand this?  You are a worthy human being who must not submit yourself to such people.”

Abigail looked at him, swallowed hard and nodded.

“Say it”, Gabriel said firmly.

“I am a divine human being worthy of everything great”, Abigail said quietly.

“Good”, said Gabriel, “Keep saying that.  Block this guy and we will meet tomorrow.”


Gabriel and Abigail met the next day.

“Has he reached out to you?”, Gabriel asked after they had exchanged perfunctory greetings.

“Yes”, she said, “He is demanding to know why I won’t respond to him.”

“Good”, Gabriel replied, “We will take care of him.  In the meantime, I would like you to read this book.”

Abigail looked at the book he offered.

“CIA Street Smarts for Women?”, she asked.

“Spy skills to tell the prince from the predator”, said Gabriel, pointing at the tag line on the book, “The guy who wrote this used to be a CIA operations officer.  He is a great guy who is sharing the skills he learned in the CIA to help women avoid the situation you are in.”

Abigail said nothing but felt her eyes filling with hot tears.

“Don’t worry”, Gabriel said gently, “We will fix this.”

Gabriel pulled out his phone, dialled a number and waited for an answer.

The other party picked up the phone and Gabriel spoke quietly.

“Hello, Jim?”, he asked.

To be continued.


© 2016 – Harry Tucker – All Rights Reserved

Background

The story you just read is a true story although a description of the actual acts committed and the timeline have been shortened for brevity and taste.  I have spared the reader the psychology analysis here in order to keep the story engaging albeit disturbing. The story has been shared here with the permission of "Abigail".

The book Gabriel presented to Abigail is real.

CIA Street Smarts for Women – Spy Skills to Tell the Prince from the Predator, by B. D. Foley, is a powerful book that can equip any woman against the many predators out there.

And yes, B.D. Foley is actually a retired CIA operations officer.

If you care about your daughter, your sister, a woman who is divorced or widowed or your best friend and you sense something is wrong in their relationship or they could find themselves in trouble, honor your instinct and your love for the other person and get a copy of this book for them.

Predators don’t just exist in the world of Hollywood or in cases like the Jian Ghomeshi case currently playing out in a Canadian court.

They are everywhere as Abigail discovered.

Don’t let such a predator destroy the Life of someone who matters to you.

What happened to the predator in this case?

Go here to read more – Answering the Cry for Help.

Predators prey on the uninformed or those whose sense of self-worth is so low that they easily fall to the beguiling patter of the predator.

Predators are allowed to hone their art and create the carnage they create when the rest of us pretend they don’t exist or when we don’t do what needs to be done to prevent them from hurting others. They know how to identify their targets, how to approach them and how to ensnare them. We need to understand how they operate and find the right tools to counter their efforts.

B.D. Foley's book provides those tools.

We are either part of the problem of part of the solution.

Which one are you?

Buy the book.

It matters.

Series Origin

This series, a departure from my usual musings, is inspired as a result of conversations with former senior advisors to multiple Presidents of the United States, senior officers in the US Military and other interesting folks as well as my own professional background as a Wall St. / Fortune 25 strategy advisor and large-scale technology architect.

While this musing is just “fiction” (note the quotes) and a departure from my musings on technology, strategy, politics and society, as a strategy guy, I do everything for a reason and with a measurable outcome in mind. :-)

This “fictional” musing is a continuation of the #1206 series noted here.

Monday, September 29, 2014

Answering The Cry For Help

Open your mouth, judge righteously, defend the rights of the poor and needy. – Proverbs 31:9 (ESV)

On a dark, rainy night, he sat in his office and stared at the copy of the warrant that had been left with him.  His office and home were now devoid of all electronics, laptops, PCs, phones and all forms of media storage.  For the first time in a long time, he suddenly felt cut off from the world and he felt uncertain about tomorrow.

According to the officers delivering the warrant, a number of complaints had been filed against him and he should expect to be served very soon.

He had wondered for years how long he could sustain his personal hobby and he now had his answer.  He didn’t understand the big deal.  None of the women who had gone with him were forced against their will in any way and they had all willingly and knowingly submitted to photos being taken in compromising situations or risqué clothing.  For those he had tied up and beaten, he was sure that they had enjoyed it, otherwise why would they have returned for more?  As for drugging some of them before he photographed them, he knew that this helped them to relax so what was the harm in that?

Of course, it didn’t hurt that he had threatened to reveal their photos on the web or share them with their family or employers if they dared to tell others or failed to return to feed his appetite.  He also leveraged such threats to view child porn using their mobile phones.  After all, it didn’t hurt that if they ever blew the whistle on him, their phones were the ones on record as having viewed child pornography.  He was smart enough to never use his own phone.

Taking photos of underage girls was a little risky and so he didn’t engage much with them because the risk wasn’t worth the reward even though the reward was great and almost irresistible.

Having one of his buddies appear in the photos with the married women was particularly titillating and useful since the mere threat of sharing photos with a doting husband were usually more than enough to bend even the strongest will to his needs.

And he always sent photos of his victims to his newer victims as proof that he had many victims.  He felt that this somehow amplified his power and besides, it might put some creative ideas into the minds of his other victims for future photo sessions.

He paused and reflected on some mistakes he had made also.  The app he had installed on their phones for reading private SMS, sending SMS to their phone as if it came from other people and sending SMS from their phone to other people had come in handy but was awkward to explain if it were found.  The same was true for opening up the settings on their phone so that he could track the location of their device at any time but this one wasn't as difficult to explain if discovered.

"It's too late to worry about it now", he thought.

And now it was coming to an end.

Some a&*hole by the name of Jim had sent him a note outlining what was about to happen and now it was happening just as Jim had said it would.  Jim had signed it because, as he indicated, he wanted the person in question to know where justice had come from.

Meanwhile, someone had been circulating rumors of what he had done amongst family, friends and colleagues over the last couple of weeks but he had been able to deflect them as being rumors started by a jealous competitor or jilted lover.

Criminal charges, however, were another matter and he would not be able to hide the truth much longer.

Then there was the matter of being followed.  He could have sworn that in the past couple of weeks, he saw unusual cars parked outside work and his home.  One night going to the local hotel to meet one of his victims, he got spooked when he saw one of the surveillance cars parked outside the hotel and he fled.

He would need to wait until he got home to warn his network that something was amiss.  He wouldn’t be able to send them any more photos nor would he want to accept anymore.

Sighing and with a slightly shaking hand, he folded some papers into his backpack, locked his office door and headed down the street towards his car.

Suddenly, headlights illuminated his path from behind and he paused and looked behind him.  He recognized the car as being one of the ones that had been conducting surveillance on him and he quickened his pace.

As he neared his car, a dark figure suddenly stepped out in front of him and addressed him by name.

His heart began beating fast as he realized that no avenue of escape existed for him.

“Justice comes in many forms.  Please step into the vehicle”, the dark figure said quietly.


Chuck’s cellphone rang and he picked it up quickly.  After a perfunctory hello, he sat in silence, nodding occasionally and when the caller had finished speaking, he spoke a curt “good work” before hanging up.

Taking his personal phone out, he texted a message to several people waiting for an update.

While his job in the Department of Homeland Security was often dreary or boring, it often came with its own special side projects that provided a sense of satisfaction.

The world was always better when there was one less scumbag in it.

The traditional justice system was too slow anyway.

And besides, with this scumbag in the bag, DHS monitoring of the emails and cellphones of the scumbag's network would soon reveal if others who were participating in the capture and sharing of such photos would run for the border.  He hoped they would.  Accidents happen, after all. 

He paused for a moment and wondered how their families would receive the news about their spouse's activities over the years.  He didn't care.  “They deserve what they get”, he thought.  They had left a trail of broken families in their wake and some even had blood on their hands with the suicides they had produced.

"Another day in the Corps", he said quietly as he prepared to go home for the night.


Jim read the text on his phone and turned to the lady sitting next to him.  “You can relax”, he smiled, “It’s been fixed.”

“What happened to him?”, she asked, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“That’s not important”, Jim replied, “What matters is that it is fixed.”


The Bottom Line

The above story is based on a true story and has been greatly abridged for the sake of brevity.  Some names have been changed to protect the privacy of specific individuals.

There are three messages here:

  1. For those who are in trouble, no matter how embarrassing the reason, a single call for help can make all the difference in your Life.  Make the call.
  2. For those who insist on creating pain for others, your luck eventually runs out.  Justice comes in many forms.
  3. For the rest of us, we must always be ready to take action when we sense someone is in trouble.  It doesn’t take a big action on our part to create a tremendous result.

Do you know someone who is in trouble or do you sense they are in trouble?

Are you in trouble?

Take action.

If you guess wrong, you may be slightly embarrassed and might even get a laugh out of it.

If you guess right, you may save a Life.

Someone out there is waiting for your help.

Maybe you are waiting for someone to guess that you need help.

What are you waiting for?

In service and servanthood,

Harry