They say revenge is sweet. But until you walk down that path, intentionally setting out to destroy another human being, you don’t know what revenge is. And it isn’t sweet. It eats at you, like a cancer, forever knowing what you did, unable to come clean, to expose your own duplicitous and evil nature. Yes, there is a moment of triumph, of feeling victorious over the other who caused you pain, but it is only momentary. In the long run, there is no peace. Particularly when you aren’t a duplicitous and evil person, at least in the eyes of everyone around you. From their perspective I’m a caring husband and father, a bit of a workaholic, fun and easy going, giving, funny, engaging. I was what they would consider a “pillar of the community.” Only, they didn’t know the truth, what lays below the surface, what I’m really capable of. If they knew, some might argue it was done to protect family and would sympathize. But how can you sympathize with the destruction of another human being. In part to cleanse my own conscience, I am writing this story now, hoping to find a cathartic outlet, sort of like going to confession I suppose, if I were Catholic.

When I was a law student nearly 20 years ago, I met an amazing woman one afternoon sitting in the crowded student coffee shop I often hung out in to study. It was noisy and chaotic, but somehow I was able to concentrate and enjoyed the occasional distraction of looking up and around, noticing all the young coeds. This particular afternoon it was jammed pack and there were no empty tables when one young woman asked if she could take the empty seat at my table. It took me a moment to shift gears out of reading boring legal case histories and tune into what she was asking, but quickly realized her situation and moved my books so she could place her coffee and slice of cake down.

Soon, both of our attempts at studying turned to small talk that rapidly transformed into a deeply engaging conversation. Anna was (is) African-American, I’m Caucasian, if that matters, and in those days she had cornrows and dyed her hair deep red with henna. She had piercing eyes and a smile that could melt the polar caps. She was a sophomore, being just 19, while I was a 2nd year law student, six years her senior as I took two years off after completing my undergraduate degree to travel and then work trying to save money for law school. Anna was a history and political science double major, intelligent, well-traveled, engaging, and beautiful. She herself was toying with the idea of law school after she graduated but also wanted to go on to do her PhD. She was statuesque, standing at 5’10”, and amazingly curvy. Her breasts pushed against her blouse, unbuttoned enough to display her ample cleavage. That day she wore a white lacy bra underneath a light blue blouse, her dark skin making her full breasts visible, including her large, dark nipples.

Over the course of our conversation she caught me numerous times admiring her breasts, but never once took notice, our conversation free flowing. As the afternoon sun set we both merged out of the engrossing conversation to realize that several hours had passed. Not wanting to lose the opportunity I suggested we go someplace for dinner to continue the conversation and she gladly accepted my invitation. Innocently I suggested my apartment where I had already the preparations for grilling chicken and some vegetables. I had no other intentions but to enjoy the evening with a new friend. Honestly!

Upon arriving I opened a bottle of wine and started the grill. She discovered my vinyl collection and after dinner sat on the floor exploring my eclectic taste in music. I sat on the couch opposite admiring her exquisite beauty, enjoying her charms, and lost in the moment. After some time, she placed her wine glass on the nearby table and got on all fours, crawling towards me. Her luscious breasts were loosely swaying in her blouse and her eyes sparkled with a new kind of passion. We locked eyes as she approached me crawling up between my legs and sealing our fate, entwining our lives together for life. When we first kissed that evening it was as if the gates of a dam had been opened, unleashing a swell of passion that I myself didn’t know I was capable of experiencing.

Sex with her that night was somewhere between raw animalism and sweet love making. I couldn’t explain it if I tried, but we pounced upon one another, nearly ripping one another’s clothes off, but kissing, and hugging, and cuddling one another like old lovers. It was a beautiful night that set the stage of our amazing life together. Our first need that evening was to merge our bodies into an erotic union. Once naked, she pushed me back onto the couch, and I pulled her on top of me as she knelt over my lap, I sucked on her luscious tits bouncing in my face as she lowered herself onto me, guiding my cock into her tight wet pussy. Within minutes we both came. I then carried her into my bedroom and for the next several hours we kissed, we cuddled, we licked, we sucked, we fucked, and eventually fell asleep; her blackness entangled in my whiteness.

Though she kept her room in the dorm, concerned of what her parents were going to think, she essentially moved in with me. The concern with her parents was not about race but rather her being too young to move in with a guy. Anna literally rocked my world, and still does. Even after 20 years of marriage and two children, we still have sex at least 3 or 4 times a week, most weeks. And each time it feels almost like the first – raw passion unleashed. Only now there is this cancer eating away at me, this dark secret that has crept between us. I know she senses it, but cannot place her finger on what has changed and why. If I tell her our marriage may be over, if I don’t the seed of darkness bottled up within me will grow and continue to fester, wedging a cleavage between us. No matter what, it seems, I lose. This is what seeking revenge on someone does.

We waited until after she graduated before we married and well into her PhD until our first daughter. I was now working for a major law firm, had built my own client list, and was on the path to becoming a partner. It wasn’t easy when Aisha was born as Anna and I were so engrossed in our careers and studies. But Aisha was a beautiful addition, both of us so committed to seeing her flourish and grow over the years. Like her mother, Aisha was stunningly beautiful, she’s already had several requests to do photoshoots for modeling at her ripe age of 16. She has her mother’s build, her curves, only with a lighter, almost olive complexion and the most tantalizing green eyes. Her sister Karena followed Aisha two years later, now 14. She leans towards being tomboyish, a soccer player, basketball player, and excels in everything she does, be it sports or studies. She does not have her sister’s curves, but she has an amazingly fit and ripe body. I know as a father I shouldn’t describe my own daughter in such terms, but I do know that is how others see her.

We live the good life, residing in an upscale neighborhood, the girls going to a highly sought after private middle and high school, they excel in their studies and are perfect daughters, we take extensive family vacations overseas, and enjoy our circle of friends and close relations with both our families. I couldn’t have imagined it more perfectly than it was.

Until late one night, just a few months ago, when I couldn’t sleep well and ventured down to my study downstairs. I first went into the kitchen to grab a glass of water and noticed on the counter Aisha’s phone. It was rare for it to be more than a few feet from her. We trusted our girls and never really implemented our right to examine their phones now and then, but we did know the passwords. I read enough and listened to my colleagues enough to know there is a whole other world out there for teens these days, accessed through a few apps, worlds I couldn’t even imagine. But the girls never showed any signs of slipping from being the perfect daughters they were. But I couldn’t resist the temptation, it was such a unique opportunity. I can’t say I regret it, in fact am glad I was able to intervene and disrupt what was happening under my very roof, I just wish it could have taken a different path.

There was nothing particularly unusual, as far as I knew with Aisha’s social media—Instagram and Facebook full of the usual teen pics of friends and travels and school nonsense. Then I searched her photos, from all media ... Ok, a few revealing pics of her and her friends, which I must confess I did take note of, particularly Kaylee, her best friend for the past several years. She was a gorgeous blond beauty in her own right and seeing her in her bra laughing and kissing my Aisha I must admit set a spark in my blood system. But those were the innocent ones. I soon came across several dick pics. Then some more of my baby girl nude and her friends. Those were shocking, but nothing that prepared me for seeing my girl on her knees with some boy’s cock in her mouth! And then cum over her face and tits! And then a video of her fucking herself with a vibrator. And there were more. Her sucking three cocks, her being fucked doggy style, pics, videos, my Aisha, my sixteen-year-old Aisha covered in cum. Some of the pics and videos included Kaylee, some were just Aisha. I was shocked, standing there shaking barely cognizant of what I was seeing. Somehow, I snapped out of my shaken state and realized I had to do something. I forwarded many of the different pics and videos to myself. To do what? I don’t know, but I needed the evidence. Was I to confront her? Let her mother know?

I replaced her phone on the counter and made my way to my study. I sat in my chair staring at my own phone, knowing what was waiting for me in my inbox. As I sat there I also became cognizant of my own state—agitated, angry, confused, and hard as a fucking rock! I knew Aisha was beautiful, was very sexy and I did admire her curvaceous body. But as a proud father, and a concerned one whenever I noticed other men checking her out never did I see her sexually, for myself. I know her mother had “the talk” with her, we discussed it and planned it. Aisha was always so responsible and despite her beauty was never that interested in boys. Yes, she went out with one guy or another to the school dances and her dates were always group affairs. On the surface, she never exposed an iota of misconduct.

But the contradictions between my perception of her and the reality of what her pictures and videos exposed was so deep, that the shock of finding them was that much greater. I was caught up in these thoughts that ran the gambit of disbelief, to anger, to concern about her wellbeing, that at least my own desires piqued by the cache diminished.

Reluctantly, I picked up my phone and stared at the black screen for a moment before opening it. I then went through the pics and videos again. This time with a more discerning eye. Besides the many pics of Aisha, I also forwarded the pics of Kaylee. I did start to notice a pattern; the vast majority of the pictures were from the Henderson’s home (Kaylee’s). Only a few of just my Aisha were from her own bedroom. But all the group pics were almost all from the same house. I put in my earbuds to listen to the videos. There was one in particular of Aisha and Kaylee making out and Kaylee clearly talking to the guy filming “is that what you like daddy”, “you like watching Aisha lick me, daddy”, “oh daddy, why don’t you come join us.” At first, I thought it was Rick Henderson, Kaylee’s father, but that was impossible, unimaginable. I just assumed that it was some older guy who got off on being called daddy. But who was he? Was he exploiting the girls? Of course he was—it was statutory rape! Child pornography! But it was when Kaylee went down on Aisha and she started to speak to the guy behind the camera that I nearly had a stroke: “you like watching your daughter, Mr. H?” Holy fuck, it was Rick. The father of my girl’s best friend was filming and no doubt fucking both my daughter and his own!

I went on to another video, and sure enough, it was the same guy, the same cock who my Aisha was sucking, who was fucking her. And the gangbang? I don’t know who the others were, but it would seem Rick was certainly one of them. My blood was boiling in anger, I was ready to run over to their house right now and drag him out and pummel him to a pulp. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to scream. I wanted revenge...

I knew enough not to react based on first impulses. I have seen enough cases pass through our firm that were predicated on first impulses, on letting one’s emotions of the moment get the better of you. You become rash and irrational when you allow anger to lead your actions. I sat there letting it all settle in, sifting through it all. First things first though, I had to take care of my achingly hard cock. I went back to a video that Aisha shot of Kaylee stripping and then playing with a vibrator. It didn’t take long for me to shoot a load into a tissue I had on hand. It felt so wrong, as if I was now as guilty as Rick in exploiting our daughters. Only I hadn’t actually fucked either of them. Now I had to figure out how I was going to fuck him over for what he was doing, even if Aisha seemed to be participating on her own free will.

The discovery of Aisha’s pics made me wonder about my young Karena. She was too young, but might she be going down the same path as her older sister? I had to make sure. That morning while she was in the shower, I stealthily went into her room and opened her phone. I immediately went to her gallery and started scrolling through her pictures. Sure enough, there were several revealing selfies and a self-shot video and then there was one shot by someone else—in the same room as some of Aisha’s videos were shot! And yes, there was a video of her sucking cock, the same cock I assumed belonging to Rick Henderson. Now I was livid. I however maintained my sense of self-control, forwarded a few of the incriminating videos to myself and then snuck back out. I decided the best thing to do was quickly shower myself and get out of the house to think through it all. I wasn’t capable of putting up appearances of normalcy right then. Though it was Saturday, I made an excuse about some work and went for a long drive.

Though my legal specialty is corporate litigation, I had been involved in a few complicated divorce cases and several fraud cases over the years. I knew about how others made anonymous relationships for nefarious activities; I knew about the dark web; I knew about bitcoin, in fact I had even purchased some (and fortunately used it before its value went south—the only redeeming thing to come of all of this!). Rather than stopping in to buy a gun, which I was quite tempted to do, I bought a burner phone and prepaid credit card, with cash. I then began my foray into the dark web. It was disturbing and I must say I was quite afraid of coming across the videos and pics of Aisha and Karena somewhere, but wasn’t looking for those immediately. Rather, I focused on finding people providing particular kinds of services—assassins, kidnapers, arsonists, harassers, even kinds of tricksters. Now all I had to figure out is exactly what I wanted done. The one thing I knew I had to do was wait, take some deep breaths, and plan this properly.

I told myself I was not going to reach out to anyone or do anything or say anything for two weeks. My only concern in waiting though is what other depravity my girls may be forced into doing by the sick fuck of the mother fucking son of a bitch that lived down the street. I had to keep my cool though and avoid Rick to the best of my abilities. Fortunately, we weren’t that close so that was the least of challenges I had. That night while the girls were out with friends—and I called them and confirmed that they were actually out and not at the Hernderson’s—and Anna was busy grading papers (yes an exciting Saturday night à chez nous!) I went into my study and perused the dark web some more, this time looking for pictures and videos. I was sick to my stomach when I found them. Worse, the sick bastard was making money off posting the pics, calling himself “trickydick”. I joined his website discovery a bevy of young girls, many of them I recognized as friends of Aisha. He had been doing this for a number of years, who knows how many girls he had exposed to the perversity of others.

The worst was that he sold opportunities to meet up with some of the girls, he was pimping them out. I am guessing the gangbang of Aisha was in fact a group of fans from the website. But did the girls know what was going on? Did they know their pics were being posted? Were they sharing in the profits? Did they gladly fuck their fans? Or, were they being tricked into it? I decided to try my luck and pay for a meet up with Kaylee, known as Lexi on the website. Trickydick said it could be arranged for next weekend. He then sent me instructions that when we met, I had to pretend that we were old friends, that the girl, Kaylee, his daughter, couldn’t know that I was paying for the opportunity to fuck her! That confirmed that Rick was doing this without the consent of the girls.