My name is Tim Robinson, and the last year or so of my life would have to improve to be considered hellish. There are two reasons – well, actually three – for that.

First off, I was involved in an accident one day a little more than a year ago while I was riding my motorcycle. A trucker apparently didn’t see me as he pulled out onto the highway and he hit me. As a result, several vertebrae in my spine were crushed, and I was paralyzed from the neck down.

About all I could do was blink my eyes and breathe. I could swallow with some difficulty, but only if I was taking in liquid or my food was pureed. I couldn’t even chew, couldn’t speak, and had no sensation whatsoever from the neck down. Don’t even ask me about going to the bathroom. All the doctors at the hospital said I was lucky to even be alive.

Thanks to the multi-million dollar settlement I got from the trucking company, all of my medical expenses were covered and I now received a monthly stipend that would support my wife and I for the rest of our lives. Between that, my disability and the money my wife, Beth, made at her job, I knew we would be okay financially.

I remained in the hospital for six months before I was finally allowed to come home, and that’s when my life got even worse.

“How’s that?” the counselor asked, looking at me intently.

“I’m so ashamed I don’t think I can even repeat what happened during those six months,” I said, a tear falling down my cheek.

“That’s okay,” she said in response. “Everything you say here will be kept confidential. Remember, I’m here to help you heal.” I nodded my head and took a sip of water before continuing. “Let’s start with your marriage,” she said. “Tell me a little bit about that.”

I told her about my marriage to Beth – how we met in college, then married after we both graduated. At the time of my accident, I was only 25 and we had been married for three years. I worked as a mechanical engineer and she worked as a paralegal for a big law firm downtown. We were able to afford a fairly large three-bedroom apartment.

Originally, we had planned on turning one bedroom into a nursery. The second bedroom was used as an office by both of us, but after my accident, the “nursery” was turned into my room, since it was large enough to accommodate all of my medical equipment.

Beth did all she could to take care of me the first month or so, but it was clear that she wasn’t up to it, especially the bathroom stuff, so she sought help. Our neighbors, Don and Kathy Akins, said they would do what they could to help. At the time, I considered them friends, and since he was an attorney at Beth’s firm, he often drove her into work.

Kathy was a nurse at a local hospital, so she would check in on me from time to time to make sure I was alright. She even helped us secure a home health nurse to check in on me during the day. After a month, it was obvious that Beth wasn’t up to the task, even with all the help.

“And that’s when Don stepped in?” the counselor asked.

“Yes,” I said. It all began innocently enough, but I could tell that he had a thing for my wife. She often broke down crying and of course, he was always there to console her. I could hear them in the front room, making out on our couch. Then he would take her into what used to be our master bedroom and have sex with her.

“But it didn’t end there, did it?” the counselor asked. I shook my head.

“No,” I said. “Afterward, he would come into my room and put his finger under my nose so I could smell Beth on him. He would taunt me, telling me how sweet my wife’s pussy is.” I saw the look on the counselor’s face. “Sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be,” she said. “I need to hear it all, and there’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

“Then he would take his dick out and rub it on my face,” I said. “He would laugh and tell me it was just in my wife’s pussy and ass.”

“Where was his wife during all this?” the counselor asked. “Was she working?”

“Yes,” I said. “She often worked strange shifts and it wasn’t unusual for her to be gone all night, working the graveyard shift.”

“I see,” the counselor said. “Go on.” I took a deep breath before continuing.

“After about a month of that, he came in my room while Beth was taking a shower. He literally picked me up, spread my legs as wide as he could and,” I began before tears started falling down my cheeks. I was so ashamed I couldn’t even finish my statement.

“Did he sodomize you?” the counselor asked. I nodded my head as I wiped the tears off my face.

“Yes,” I said quietly.

“How often did this happen?” the counselor asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe a couple times a week or so for about four months. He even told me that he was going to bring some of his friends over to do the same thing to me.”

“Did your wife know this was going on?” the counselor asked. I shrugged my shoulders.

“I don’t know,” I said. “She was never right there when it happened. She would always come by later and go on about how good it was we had friends like Don to help look after me. I’ll never forget the day he brought in that damn monitor and set it up on my dresser. He had it hooked up to a camera and had me watch as he fucked my wife. Beth thought it was wonderful that he brought it in.”

“When did the abuse stop?” the counselor asked.

“The day Dr. Steiner came by to see me,” I said. I remembered that day like it was yesterday. Beth brought Dr. Steiner and my attorney into my room just a couple hours after Don had taken me. Dr. Steiner was an older, somewhat short, balding man, with a German accent. I thought back to that visit...

...

“Tim, there’s a Dr. Steiner here to see you,” Beth said, escorting him into my room. Dr. Steiner came over and introduced himself to me. He also introduced an assistant carrying a tablet. My lawyer, Alan Harrison, was also there.

“Tim, I’m Dr. Franklin Steiner, and I’m here to discuss a possible treatment for your condition,” he said. He turned to Beth before continuing. “I’ll take care of it from here, missy,” he told her. “Please wait in the other room.” She left the room, but I noticed a look of concern on her face. He turned back to me, pulled up a chair and sat looking at me eye-to-eye before speaking.

“Now, Tim, let me explain,” he said. “I run a high-end research facility on Lake Arrowhead. We’ve been doing some groundbreaking research on 3-D bone reconstruction and implants to heal nerve damage. I think your case is tailor-made for us.

“I’ve looked at your chart and I know the extent of the damage you have suffered,” he added. “I believe we can help you regain much, if not all, of your physical capabilities. Is that something you might be interested in? Please blink once for yes and twice for no.” What else could I say to something like this? Of course, I blinked once.

“Good,” he said with a smile. “Now, you need to understand this is all experimental but we have been given approval for human testing. And thanks to external grants we’ve received, it will cost you nothing whatsoever.” That was good news, but I was a bit concerned about this being experimental.

“I know you’re probably concerned about this being experimental,” he said, as if reading my mind. “Don’t let that concern you. If the operation isn’t successful, you won’t be in any worse shape than you are now. But I believe you are a good candidate and I have confidence that everything will work just fine. In fact, if we’re as successful as I believe we will be, you will be even stronger than you were before the accident.” That gave me some hope, so I listened as he explained the procedure.

Basically, he explained that all of the damaged vertebrae would be replaced with vertebrae made from a composite material that would be even stronger than the original. On top of that, the new vertebrae would be constructed with a 3-D printer that used data obtained by my own body. In theory, the new bones would be exact duplicates of the old ones – just stronger. In addition, he would insert tiny electronic implants that would help to heal the damaged nerves. The operation itself would last three to four hours and the recovery time could last up to several days, depending on how fast I healed.

Dr. Steiner also explained that he had already reviewed the data from my hospitalization and had started the process of constructing the new bones.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “Initially, we wanted to see if we could actually reconstruct the damaged bone based on data gleaned from your records. Once we found that we could, we decided to go for the actual procedure.”

Once I was strong enough, he said, I would undergo physical therapy. That, he said, could last a few weeks.

“So, is this something you would like to try?” he asked. “Blink once for yes or two for no.” Of course, I blinked once. He smiled and rubbed his hands together.

“Sehr gut!” he exclaimed. He motioned for his assistant to join us. “Please, let Mr. Robinson read the agreement.” The assistant came over and held the tablet as I read through the agreement. When I was finished, Dr. Steiner asked me if I agreed, again instructing me to blink once for yes. I blinked once.

“Very well,” he said, instructing his assistant to have me electronically sign with my thumbprint. Once that was done, Alan countersigned, verifying that he had witnessed my agreement to the procedure. “Are you ready to get started?” he asked. Of course! I blinked once. He smiled.

“Then let’s get going,” he said. “Don’t worry, we have everything you’ll need at the facility.” He motioned for his assistant to wheel me out of the apartment and toward a large van that was waiting in the parking lot. Beth stopped us on the way out.

“Where are you going?” she asked. Dr. Steiner looked at her before answering.

“Your husband has agreed to a procedure which could put him back on his feet,” he said.

“Where are you taking him?” she asked. “How long will he be gone? How much is this going to cost?”

“We are transporting him to my facility on Lake Arrowhead,” the doctor said. “He could be gone for several weeks, depending on how well he responds to the procedure and the therapy. His doctor and his lawyer is fully aware of what is going on and they and your husband have approved. Cost is not an issue. Now, if you don’t mind, we’d like to get going.”

“Wait,” she said. “I haven’t seen any agreement and I don’t even know what’s going to happen.”

“He doesn’t need your approval, Mrs Robinson,” Alan said. “He’s disabled, not incompetent. Everything has been explained to him and he’s given his approval. You do want your husband to get better, don’t you?”

“Yeah, of course I do,” she said. I could detect a bit of guilt in her voice. “Can I at least come see him?”

“Perhaps after the procedure, when he’s up to having visitors, you can come,” Dr. Steiner said. “Otherwise, it’s probably best if you stay right here for now. We’ll be in touch. Perhaps this would be a good time to say goodbye and wish your husband well.” Beth came in front of me and kissed me on the lips.

“Get better, sweetheart,” she said. “Let me know when I can come see you, okay?” Of course, I couldn’t say anything, but I was steaming inside. Dr. Steiner and his assistant wheeled me out to the van. After they got me inside, the assistant got in the driver’s seat we headed out. I could see Beth standing there in the parking lot, watching us leave. I didn’t know what she was thinking, but I felt as though I had just been rescued from a hostage situation.

A couple hours later, we arrived at the facility and I was taken to a very nice room where several nurses began preparing me for the procedure.

“I hope you don’t mind, Tim, but I thought it best to get started right away,” Dr. Steiner said. He turned to the nurses. “Once you have him prepared, please bring him to the operating room.”

“Yes, Dr. Steiner,” one of the nurses said.

“Okay, Tim, I will leave you in the capable hands of your nurses and I’ll see you in the OR,” he told me before leaving. Soon, they had me undressed, washed down and in a gown – you know, the type that leaves you exposed in the back. They placed me on a gurney and wheeled me to the operating room, where three very large orderlies gingerly picked me up and placed me face down on the table.

The anesthesiologist did his thing and the last thing I heard before I was out was Dr. Steiner saying, “oh my...” I had no idea what he was referring to.

I woke up still face down, but this time I was in some kind of a contraption that kept me immobile. I had a tube going down my throat and an IV stuck in my arm. A blood pressure band was on my right arm. Suddenly, the contraption turned and I was looking up into Dr. Steiner’s face.

“You are awake,” he said. “Good. You will be happy to hear the operation went off quite well. We’re going to have to keep you immobile for a few days to make sure everything heals properly. We had to replace quite a bit, after all. You may feel some tingling or itching in your back. That’s normal. That means the implants are doing their job. The nurses will keep a very close eye on you as will I. The device you are in will automatically rotate your body every so often, so don’t be alarmed. Just try to relax for now, okay? We’ll talk in a couple days.”

With that, he checked my vitals, gave some instructions to the nurses and left. What was it he said? Relax? What else was I going to do, I wondered. He was right about one thing – I did feel a tingling sensation in the middle of my back, and it aggravated me to no end. I also felt the itching, and I wanted to scratch, but I couldn’t. As aggravating as it was, it was nice to actually feel something for the first time in over a year.

That night, a couple nurses came in to wash me down. I could feel them as they washed my legs, buttocks and back. I was more than surprised. I was shocked – I could actually feel what they were doing. They turned the “bed” over and began to wash me from the front. That’s when I got a good look at them.

They were both quite young and attractive. One had shoulder-length blonde hair and the other was a brunette. As they washed me, I felt something else – something I hadn’t felt in a long time – a stirring in my groin. I couldn’t move my head, but I could see a smile creep across their faces as they washed me. The blonde looked at me.

“Well, I’m no doctor, but it looks like something is working down here,” she said with a smile. They giggled a bit, but kept doing their job. They finished what they were doing and left the room, but not before giving me some encouragement.

I ended up staying in the device for four days. Each day was pretty much the same – X-rays were taken every morning and nurses came in to massage my arms and legs. Later in the day, I was given a thorough sponge bath. I found that as each day went by I could feel more of what was being done to me. On the fourth day, Dr. Steiner came into the room and looked me over carefully.

Sitting down next to me, he pulled out a pin and quickly stuck me in the leg – I felt it and made a noise. I couldn’t say anything since I still had a tube in my throat. He looked at me.

“Did you feel that?” he asked. I blinked once and tried to nod my head, but I couldn’t move it as it was still strapped down. He smiled. “Very good,” he said. He asked me to try moving my toes. To my surprise, I could. Then he asked me to move my fingers, which I did.

“Outstanding!” he exclaimed. He examined my X-rays closely and called in some nurses.

“I think it’s time we got Mr. Robinson out of this contraption,” he said. They pulled the tube out of my throat, removed my catheter, disconnected all of the tubes and unstrapped me from the device. Then they moved me to a gurney and took me to my room, where they moved me to a bed. He spoke to the nurses then sat down next to me.

“I can’t tell you how pleased I am with your results,” he said. “We will need to start your physical therapy now, and we’ll start with some exercises you can do in your bed. I don’t want to put too much pressure on your back just yet.” He put a cup with a straw to my mouth. “Take a drink,” he said. I did, and it felt so good going down my throat. “Try to say something,” he said after I had swallowed.

“Wow,” I croaked. He laughed and nodded his head.

“That will do,” he said. “How do you feel?”

“Like a new man,” I said, my voice still very weak. I could feel my eyes start to water. This was the first time I had been able to do or say anything since the accident. He pulled a tissue and wiped my eyes.

“I know this is a very emotional moment for you, Tim,” he said. “For now, I want you to take it easy. Don’t try to overdo it. Your back still has to heal a bit, but it looks like the implants are working just fine. I am concerned that you may have lost some muscle mass since the accident, so we’re going to set you up with a program of diet and exercise to help you regain the use of your muscles. Now, I’d like to introduce you to the staff members who will be taking care of you.” He waved his hand and a group of young women entered the room.

“This is Angela, your dietitian,” he said. “Ingrid will be your physical therapist,” he added, referring to a short-haired muscular blonde who nodded her head once. “Linda will be your day nurse,” he said, pointing to a petite woman with short dark hair. “And this is Kirsten, your night nurse,” he added, pointing to a taller red-haired woman. Her eyes twinkled as she smiled at me.

“Nice to meet you,” I managed to say.

“Now, if there is anything you need, please feel free to let us know,” Dr. Steiner said. “We all live here at the facility, so we’re available 24 hours a day.” He motioned for the women to leave the room for a bit, then turned back to me.

“Tim, I need to speak with you about something,” he said. “This is a delicate subject, so if you feel a bit uncomfortable, let me know. I’m curious – I noticed a fair amount of rectal damage when we started the procedure on you. I also took samples of something I found in that area. I’m not here to judge, but I was just wondering. Are you gay or bisexual?”

“No,” I croaked, more than a bit embarrassed.

“I see,” he said. “So you were abused?” Tears began to fall down my cheek.

“Yes,” I managed to get out. He wiped my face before speaking.

“You know, I have an obligation to report this to the authorities,” he said. “In this state, it’s a felony to sexually abuse a disabled person. It’s also considered a hate crime. I took samples of what I found and the lab is doing analysis, including DNA. Do you know who did this to you?”

“Yes,” I said quietly.

“Was your wife involved?” he asked.

“Don’t know,” I said. “She was never around when he did it.”

“I see,” he said. “Are you willing to name the person who did this to you?” I nodded my head.

“Yes,” I told him.

“Good,” he said. “Once we have the analysis, I’ll contact the authorities. In the meantime, I’ll set you up with a counselor.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Now, let’s concentrate on getting you back on your feet, shall we?”

They attached a device to the head of my large bed that allowed me to lift weights while laying down, but Dr. Steiner didn’t want me to use it just yet. For the first week, they simply had me do hand exercises and they brought in a machine so I could do leg exercises. Ingrid turned out to be quite the therapist as she called cadence.

“Eins, zwei, drei, fier,” she counted in German as I pushed with one foot, then the other. I couldn’t help but notice that her accent was far more pronounced that Dr. Steiner’s. She would have made a good drill instructor, I thought, as she pushed me to go faster.

“Gut!” she declared. “We’ll feed you some protein and get those muscles back in shape. Soon, every freulein in town will be after you. And probably a frustrated hausfrau or two,” she added with a wicked laugh.

...

“And that brings us to the present,” I said, looking at the counselor, who patiently listened to my story. She put her pen down and looked at me.

“Tim,” she said. “These next few weeks are going to be very difficult for you. Frankly, I don’t know which is going to be harder – the physical recovery, or the emotional one. I’m glad you feel you can talk to me about this, and I hope you take action against those who abused and neglected you. They violated the law and need to be dealt with. I want you to know that I’m here for you and you can talk to me any time you need. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said. “Thanks.” With that, the session ended and I was wheeled back to my room.

A couple days later, Dr. Steiner came in my room, escorting a couple of men wearing dark suits. I noticed Alan was with them. After chasing the nurses out of my room, the doctor sat down next to me.

“Tim, these men are here to discuss your situation at home,” he said. “I took the liberty of calling your lawyer as well. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” I said. Alan seemed shocked when he heard me speak.

“You’re looking much better, Tim,” he said as he stood over me. I smiled and reached out to shake his hand. Surprised, he accepted and shook my hand.

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m feeling much better. I can even eat on my own now.”

“He is doing quite well,” Dr. Steiner said. “If all goes well, he’ll be even stronger than he was before the accident.”

“That’s good to hear,” Alan said.

“Tim, this is Agent Smith and Agent Jones, with the state police,” Dr. Steiner said. “They’re here to take your statement. Are you up to speaking with them?”

“Absolutely,” I said. The three men pulled up chairs and Agent Smith pulled out a recorder.

“Mr. Robinson, I hope you don’t mind if we record this interview?” he asked.

“Not at all,” I said. They spent the next hour taking notes and asking questions as I recalled the previous four months of abuse at the hand of the person I thought was my friend, Don Akins. This was the third time I had to admit what was done to me and it was just as humiliating and painful as it was the first two times.

“And you say this Mr. Akins is the man who assaulted you repeatedly?” Agent Smith asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“I have the sample I took from Mr. Robinson, along with the analysis,” Dr. Steiner said. “There was significant rectal damage that had to be taken care of. That is all in my report.”

“We’ll need to take that into evidence,” Agent Smith said. Dr. Steiner nodded his head.

“Tell me, Mr. Robinson,” Agent Smith said, looking back at me. “Is this the same Don Akins who works at the law firm of McMaster and Williams?”

“Yes, it is,” I said.

“And your wife works at this firm as well?” he asked.

“Yes, she does,” I told him.

“And you allege that the two of them have been engaged in an affair during this time?” he asked.

“That’s correct,” I told him.

“Was she ever present when the assaults took place?” Agent Smith asked. I shook my head.

“She was in the apartment, but never in the same room, as I recall,” I told him. “In fact, she seemed to think that he was helping me, somehow.”

“I see,” the agent said. “Nevertheless, we’re going to have to bring her in as an accessory. Even if she wasn’t physically in the same room, it’s difficult to believe she wouldn’t have known something was going on.”

“Tim, are you certain about all of this?” Alan asked, shocked. “I know Don Akins personally, and I find it hard to believe he would do something like this.”

“Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think. Tell me, how else would his semen have gotten in my ass?” I asked, rhetorically. “You have Dr. Steiner’s report and you have the sample.”

“I can’t explain it,” he said. “I take it you’re going to want a divorce from your wife.”

“Absolutely,” I said. He nodded his head.

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll start the paperwork. I’ll get with you before we file.”

“I also want a restraining order,” I told him. “I don’t want either of them anywhere near me and I sure as hell don’t want them in my apartment.”

“As of right now, we’ll be treating your apartment as a potential crime scene,” Agent Smith said. “How much longer is Mr. Robinson going to be here?” he asked Dr. Steiner.

“Hard to say,” the doctor told him. “At least five more weeks, perhaps longer. It depends on how well he responds to the treatment and the therapy.”

“Very well,” Smith said. “At least he’ll be safe for a while longer.” He turned to his partner. “Get a search warrant for the Robinson apartment and arrest warrants for Mrs. Robinson and Mr. Akins.” The other agent nodded his head and left the room. Smith turned back to me.

“Just so you know, Mr. Robinson,” Smith said. “We’re going to charge your wife as an accessory. If it comes down to it, would you be willing to testify against her in court?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Okay,” he said quietly. By then, Jones had returned and gave a thumbs-up.

“Warrants will be ready when we get back to the office,” he said. Smith nodded his head and packed up his gear and the sample he got from Dr. Steiner.

“We’ll be in touch, Mr. Robinson,” he said. “I hope everything works out for you.”

“Thank you,” I said. After they left, Alan came over to me.

“Tim,” he said. “These are serious charges you’re making. Don could lose everything – his job, his license, maybe even his marriage. Are you 100 percent certain about this?”

“I’m 100 percent certain, Alan,” I said. “I frankly don’t care if he loses everything. In fact, after what he’s done, he deserves to lose everything. I hope you’re on my side in this. Tell me now if you’re not and I’ll find another attorney.”

“I’m on your side, Tim,” he said. “It’s just, I don’t know, hard for me to believe. I’ve met his wife, eaten at their home. I’ve never seen anything to suggest he’d do something this stupid.”

“Well, he did,” I said. “Can I sue him as well?”

“I don’t see any reason why not,” Alan said. “We live in one of the few states where alienation of affection lawsuits are allowed, so I’ll look into that as well, but you should know they typically don’t go very far. I’m truly sorry about this, Tim. I had no idea.”

“Not your fault,” I said. “I had no way of letting anyone know.” We said our goodbyes and he left. I felt a bit better, knowing that something was going to be done.

The next couple weeks went fast. Ingrid had me up on my feet in no time. At first, she had me walk on a treadmill, then she had me working with weights. Angela had me on a diet high in protein and fiber, and I began to notice my muscle mass returning to normal.

In the meantime, authorities were building a case against Don and Beth. Alan decided it would be best to hold the divorce papers until she was arrested. Agents Smith and Jones returned a couple times with state prosecutors, looking to get more detailed information from me about the assaults. They informed me that analysis verified that it was Don’s DNA Dr. Steiner had extracted from me.

Alan had also hired a PI to gather evidence of their adultery. It wasn’t difficult to do at all, since the two of them were quite blatant about their affair. Apparently Don’s wife, Kathy, was oblivious to their activity since she worked nights while they screwed around, and slept during the day while they were at work.

After gathering evidence and finishing the paperwork, Alan came out to go over it with me. He planned to file on the grounds of adultery, neglect and cruelty. He had plenty of photos, video and audio of them to back up his case. I really didn’t want to hear or see what they had done, especially since I had already seen and heard enough of them to last a lifetime. He also had paperwork against Don and planned to sue the firm they worked for, since Beth was technically his subordinate and he had clearly violated company policy.

Additionally, he planned to report Don to the state Bar Association and had paperwork drawn up accusing him of various ethics charges.

I couldn’t help but notice that Beth never once called the facility to check on my progress, and she never once came out to see how I was doing. Apparently, she and Don were too busy screwing to bother with me. Oh well, I thought. This, too, would pass.

And it did. At the end of the two-week period, the authorities moved in and arrested them at the firm. Alan’s process server was also present and delivered the papers to all the parties concerned. My lawyer even alerted the media, who captured video of the two cheaters being placed in the back of police cruisers.

Shocked by the allegations and the evidence we had against Don, the firm acted quickly, and settled with Alan for most of what we asked for. They also fired the two of them and reported Don to the state Bar.

Kathy got word of the arrest that day, when Don called her from the county lockup, telling her he was in jail and would need her to show up in court for the arraignment so she could post his bail. Agents Smith and Jones got with Dr. Steiner, and the three of them took me to the courthouse for the arraignment. Kathy spotted me as I was wheeled in for the hearing, and came running up to me.