"Yeah. I know. Twisted, right?"
"Your therapist hasn't prescribed something?"
"Nothing works. Believe me, if I could take a magical pill to suppress these dreams, I would."
"I still don't quite understand what you would like us to do about your problem."
"Well, this is going to sound odd now, but it seemed brilliant yesterday when I found your card. Of course I am sleep deprived so I may be deluding myself."
"You found our card? You mean, another female acquaintance didn't refer you to us?"
"No. I was sitting at the coffee shop in the front of my building, trying not to fall asleep at my laptop, when I noticed your card sticking out of my cup sleeve. Someone slipped it to me, I guess. The place was crowded, so I have no idea where it came from. I thought it was some kind of coffee promotion at first. A new flavor maybe. But I asked the barista and she had no idea what I was talking about." Holly shrugged and noted that Miss Bright was frowning at this explanation. "You don't usually advertise this way?"
"I should say not. We operate almost exclusively through word-of-mouth. Previous clients recommend us. We don't even have a website."
"Then where did this card come from?"
"I can assure you that I have no idea. Several years ago, our founder was distributing them at his discretion, but he's currently out of town. On his honeymoon actually. And to my knowledge he almost never hands them out anymore."
"That's very mysterious."
"Yes, but irrelevant to your situation. Perhaps you can explain what exactly seemed so brilliant yesterday?"
"Well, I thought. What if I quit fighting my subconscious? Instead of trying to avoid and suppress the dreams, why don't I orchestrate some kind of re-enactment that really embraces what my subconscious is trying to tell me? I mean, logically I know I'm safe and the man who invaded my home is unlikely to return. I'm not in any danger and yet I live in paralyzing fear most of the time. Whatever I do, the facts of my situation aren't sinking in. Maybe my subconscious can break through where my conscious mind can't. So, I'm thinking, what if we staged a home invasion fantasy that closely resembles the sex dreams my subconscious is sending me. A sort of shock therapy. What do you think?" Holly looked up at Miss Bright hopefully, but wasn't entirely surprised to see that the blonde executive's expression indicated she was adamantly opposed to Holly's proposal.
"Miss Chambers, I think this is a very bad idea. Do you actually think you'd be able to go through with this? Imagine yourself, lying in your bed, waiting for your Scene Facilitator to sneak into your room. Into your bed. Will you be able to lie there without succumbing to your fear? I very much doubt it. No one who's been in your situation could. Don't you see that?"
"What I see is that I don't have a lot of options. I either try this, or continue living in fear. And honestly, I don't know how much longer I can survive on adrenaline and caffeine. So, really, what do I have to lose exactly? Except $10,000 and a bit more of my mind?"
Miss Bright pursed her lips and tapped a pen against the green folder on her desk. "I'm sorry, Miss Chambers. I'm still not sure about this, but perhaps if we discussed the parameters of what you expect, then I'll have a better idea of what we're dealing with."
"Okay," Holly said tentatively. "What did you need to know?"
Miss Bright opened the folder and looked at the first page of the document. "Well, according to your application, you want a 'large, dominant man to invade your home in the middle of the night and force you to have sex with him.' Now, when you say 'force' I'm assuming you don't actually mean 'simulate a rape,' because none of our Scene Facilitators would be willing to participate in such an act. This would be strictly against our mandate which is about celebrating and empowering women. If you actually meant, 'rough sex' then we may be able to accommodate you."
"What's the difference?"
"Well, rough sex entails some forceful behavior on the part of the dominant partner, but it's usually understood that both parties are enthusiastic participants in the sexual act. Rape is about taking something that is not freely given. Demeaning that person and taking away their power."
Holly paused. "So, it sounds like you've had this kind of request before."
Miss Bright chuckled. "I can safely say that we've had just about every request you can imagine. And the rape fantasy is actually pretty common. Women sometimes want to indulge in some of the kinkier aspects of sexual relations, but want to be 'forced' so they don't have to take responsibility for their appetites."
"I don't see what the problem is then."
"The problem is that our SFs will not inflict severe physical or emotional pain on our clients. Some minor BDSM pleasure pain is acceptable, even desirable, but traumatizing a woman, even if that is her particular desire, will never be condoned by anyone at Delta of Venus, Inc. And in your case, I think re-living that night could do some significant harm to your already delicate emotional state."
Holly held out her hands in front of her in supplication. "Listen, trust me, I do not want any further trauma. I'm looking for a cure. And I really think this is the only way I'm going to get over this. Isn't that what your company is about? Empowerment? I realize that I'm taking unconventional steps to fix myself but I'm also taking action and having sex on my own terms. Personally, I think you should be applauding my approach rather than fighting me on this. Besides, is it really your place to decide if my fantasy is in my best interest or not?"
Miss Bright raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised at Holly's spunk. "Usually I would agree with you, Miss Chambers. We provide a service here and usually I would not dream of interfering with the integrity of your vision, but to be frank, I don't think you're in a rational state of mind right now. And I can't, in good conscience, take advantage of you when you are clearly not operating at your full mental capacity."
Holly couldn't even argue with Miss Bright. She was absolutely right. Holly was feeling more than a little off kilter since that terrible night, but she honestly felt like this was her only chance to recover. If this harebrained scheme didn't work then she was going to have to move, and that was her absolute last resort.
She loved her apartment. Not only was it adorable, it was also a steal. She had somehow lucked out and found the last reasonably priced apartment in Vancouver. It was a co-op building, so her rent was greatly reduced. Anything comparable in the area would most likely cost double or even triple the price, which she really couldn't afford. Or she'd be forced to move outside the city which meant either purchasing a car or taking all of her very expensive camera equipment on the Skytrain. Neither option appealed to her, and there really wasn't any guarantee that the dream wouldn't follow her to her new home. She'd had the nightmare while staying at her mom's, so it was entirely possible that geography had no influence over her subconscious. No, she definitely needed to take drastic measures before abandoning her home.
"I'm willing to sign a waiver, declaring that your company is not responsible for any repercussions that occur from enacting my dreams. Isn't that enough?" Holly glared at Miss Bright, willing her to back down and comply with her wishes. She was completely shocked when the woman actually dropped her eyes and began scanning the file again.
"Alright, Miss Chambers, if this is what you really want. But first, tell me this, how do you imagine your Scene Facilitator approaching you? Should he pose as a threatening stranger who roughly restrains you, and then takes you without any kind of preamble? Or did you imagine something more sensual? Perhaps a scenario where he pretends to be your lover, and surprises you in the middle of the night? Would something like that satisfy your requirements?"