WARNING CONTAINS NSFW SEXUAL CONTENT. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE A WEAK HEARTn nI'm trying to think of the first time I met Susan. To be fair she's where this story begins. It seems like so long ago. I cant rightly remember the first time we met but I can remember the first time I realized I had a crush on her. She wore a pleated skirt that rested just above her knees that day. It was accented by long white socks and black shoes. I couldn't help but look at her affectionately. We had been talking for a few weeks. We'd ride the number three line downtown to get to work. I'd head to the office to drone away at a keyboard as she worked as a receptionist for a nearby law office. She was a sweet girl probably no older than her mid-twenties. I enjoyed her symmetrical features and high cheekbones. She seemed to enjoy my dry wit and odd manner of speaking. Each day we'd ride together for about twenty minutes at a time. This was usually spent sharing anecdotes about life or talking about television. She mentioned having a boyfriend. I'd still passively flirt and she seemed responsive. From our conversations I'd been able to gather that she didn't get out much and didn't have many friends. She had a naivete about her that bordered on innocence but I could tell there was something dark behind her deep green eyes. If she mentioned a book I hadn't read I'd have read it by the next time I was on the bus. If Iplimented her appearance it wasn't umon to see her accentuate that area with her next outfit. I had a crush and I think she might have been perceptive enough to notice but I did my best not to be a creep about it. I'd like to think I did fine but sometimes things would get awkward. One of the things I appreciated about Susan was that she was a girl that preferred dresses and skirts over pants. It's a rare thing anymore. The first time I saw her in pants Imented on it. I wasn't trying to say it as a bad thing. She wore them well. Even still she stared toward the floor and wasn't as responsive to conversation. That day sucked. I hadn't realized how much my mood had be dependent on her glowing personality. The following morning I kept myments on her attire to myself. Eventually we went back to talking as normal. That's how it was for a while. At some point I can't really remember when she went from sitting across from me to sitting next to me. It was around that time that I noticed her makeup. The foundation was applied well I probably wouldn't have noticed had I not been sitting so close to her. Around the second or third time she sat next to me I noticed a slight discoloration under the makeup. She had a bruise on her face. I asked her about it. She laughed and said Oh don't worry about that. I tripped over my cat last night and landed on my face. I replied Yeah I can be a bit of a klutz sometimes myself. She smiled and said Yeah don't worry about it. I'm always falling down or bumping into things. At the time I think it was morefortable to take her at face value. From that point on I'd simply ignore the bruises or scrapes. On the days when she'd wear pants I'd keep the conversation to the minimum and avoid talking about her appearance. It seemed to work for us. After we'd been chatting like that for a while I worked up the nerve to ask her out for lunch. I opened with something like Hey you wanna catch lunch together sometime? She smiled and looked away. Her toes turned inward. She leaned forward a little bit and when she turned back toward me I could tell she had a sheepish grin on her face. I couldn't tell is she was going to turn me down or start laughing. I was nervous and about to apologize as she perked up and said As friends sure. I have a boyfriend you know. We traded details and met at a deli just off the court square. There was a table a couple of chairs on the sidewalk outside of the restaurant. We sat in the sun and talked. At some point in the conversation I said You know were having party in my apartment building later this month. You should bring your boyfriend. She went rigid. I thought I had overstepped my bounds. As she slowly relaxed I began to worry that I might be scaring her. Outside of work she was probably the closest thing I had to a friend. I had only been in the city a few months and it had been hard meeting people. I thought the potluck would have been a good excuse to have her and her boyfriend over. Before she could respond I said You know what forget it. I'm sorry. She reached over and put her hand over mine and said No I'd love to. It's just She got quiet and pulled back her hand. I was willing to drop it. At that moment I was flustered to the point of being twitterpated. She had touched my hand. It was the first real human contact I had received in my months and it wasing from a woman I had a significant crush on. I tried not to blush as she said My boyfriend doesn't like going out much. We mostly just stay home. She said boyfriend and my excitement returned to a passive indifference. I'd never met the man but his very existence was offensive to me. It had be very clear to me that he was all that stood between myself and possibility having a real chance with the most magnificent woman I'd ever met. I couldn't be mad at her. She was in a relationship. She seemed happy enough. I had no right to think ill of her or him. I sat there trying to figure out what I was doing. I was crushing on someone else's girlfriend and trying to woo her in my direction. I thought myself a creep. As I went further and further into my head with pity and self-hatred she spoke up I really like hanging out with you. I know it sounds corny but you're probably my best friend. Without thinking I replied Yeah you're MY italic only friend. I went red in the face. I had embarrassed myself and I was ready to retreat. I looked away and was getting ready to stand up when she said Yeah you're probably my only friend too. I don't get out much. We sat there in silence for a moment before she pulled out her cell phone and flipped it open. She stood up and said I need to get back to the office. I replied Yeah I should probably do the same. I stood and she approached me with a hug. I stood there her arms around my stomach and her head in my chest. The embrace might have lasted a few seconds but it was long enough to look down at the top of her head and see the part in her auburn hair. She smelled like shampoo and vanilla body spray. I got lost in that moment of pure bliss. As she pulled away I found it difficult to speak. As she walked away I couldn't help but stare as she jogged off. Her black pants suit fit perfectly to her form. In that moment she was as beautiful as I had ever seen her. It became a weekly thing. Every Thursday we'd meet up for sandwiches and talk. Each meeting would end with a hug and the following day on the bus we'd discuss random things. Eventually I added her on Facebook. She'd only message me she was at work but it gave us a chance to really get to know each other. She'd tell me about her time growing up in northwestern Ohio. I'd talk about growing up in western Kentucky. We'd share funny stories and anecdotes. horizontal-rule Then one day it all stopped. She didn't ride the bus anymore. She stopped showing up to the deli. She had blocked me on Facebook. I read and reread the message log a thousand times trying to figure out what I had done wrong but I couldn't find anything that was out of sorts. Weeks passed. My performance started to slip at work. At the advice of a coworker I started seeing a therapist. Before long I started taking Paxil for social anxiety and Prozac for depression. After a while I took to reading on the bus. One day while I was sitting there reading and trying not to think about anything in particular I heard a familiar voice say I didn't know you read Camus. My heart skipped a beat. Susan sat across from me in a short skirt and a low cut blouse. Her auburn hair had been dyed a bright orange. She wore sunglasses but it was easy to see the bags under her eyes. She sat with her legs crossed and wore a pair of open-toed shoes. I'd never seen her dressed as casual or revealing. Her warm demeanor seemed a lot colder. I could tell she was trying to act happy but there was something empty about her. She seemed hollow. I replied Yeah you'd mentioned him a while back. I figured I'd check him out. She smirked and said That's sweet. You were always so sweet. The bus stopped and she stood up saying Well this is my stop. It was great seeing you. As she stood up I couldn't help but catch a shot of the space between her legs. Old bruises had yellowed on her inner thighs and new bruises had formed around them. My jaw dropped in horror. As she walked away the wind from the door blew past her and I caught a brief scent of that vanilla body spray. I couldn't help but stare as she walked off. My memories of that perfect moment at the cafe had been replaced by her cold demeanor and the bruises. My mind went to the worst possible places. I tried to figure out what happened to her. I went to the law office where she worked only to find that she had been fired a few months prior. I asked why and the secretary looked towards the floor and said I heard she had put a webcam under her desk and was playing with herself for guys on the internet. I scoffed and said That doesn't sound like Susan at all. The secretary replied That's just what I heard. I didn't want to believe it but when I got home that night I set to the internet searching for upskirt office porn. It was a Friday night and I must've sat in front of my laptop until Sunday morning inputting various search terms and watching random videos trying to find one that might possibly her. I was on my tenth Red Bull of the weekend when my heart sank in my chest. It was a white pleated skirt and a pair of knee-high white socks that looked all too familiar. There was a at the bottom of the video to for more videos from that model. As I browsed through the videos I saw every act of depravity imaginable. She performed under the name SuzieQ. One of the more unsettling videos where she was being violently gangbanged by a group of older men had a watermark from a .xxx domain. I put it into my browser and found myself at the landing page for her personal website. I felt nauseous. Everything about the woman I had developed such an otherwise innocent crush on had been ripped away from me. I clicked through to join the site as a member. I browsed through the older videos and noticed the dates. Thinking back I had seen several of the outfits she wore in the videos on the bus. Her kitschy manner of dress was revealed to be a style of fetish clothing. On the days where she wore some of my favorite outfits she'd post a video where she'd be subjected to all manner of violent sex. The pants that followed these days made so much sense. It was probably because of the same bruising I had seen on the bus. As I dove further into her site I noticed a for VIP members. I clicked through and it required a secondary subscription fee and a credit check. I gave the necessary information. A few minutes later I received an email stating I had been approved as a VIP member. As I logged into the VIP section of the site the available videos became more sadistic and violent. I won't bother to describe them because frankly I don't want to think about it. Each motion of my mouse and each click through to another page caused me to die a bit more inside. I should have stopped at the law office but there was something about the whole situation that drove me to try and know or at the very least understand her. It was when I saw a in the VIP area that I realized how I could simply ask her. There was a for private sessions. Basically if you were willing to put up the cash you could meet with Susan to film your own private sex tape. Several VIP members had shared clips of their videos on the VIP boards. I watched each one in horror and realized I had to see her again. If anything I'd pay a few grand to see her one last time and let her have a few hours to just sit and talk. I filled out the application and maxed out my credit card to buy eight hours with her at a local motel. I was expected to bring my own camera and to show up with a sheet of paper saying I had tested negative for any STD's. I sat in the hotel room for an hour waiting for a knock. She pounded on the door and I opened to see her standing next to a large Eastern-European man. If she recognized me I couldn't tell by her expression. She pushed past me into the hotel room and her escort did as well. She sat on the bed as he gave me a list of rules in a thick accent. He said No punching the face you can slap but don't ruin the face. No cutting. I'll be back for her in the morning. Don't get no ideas about taking her places. Oh and be sure to wear condom. She's a whore. He turned for the door and after the door latched behind him Susan said in a dry tone I never figured you for the I couldn't respond. She spoke again So how do you want to do this? I sat down in a chair across from the bed. My pulse was racing. My face was probably flushed. I sat with my face in my hands and said I don't want to do anything. I just wanted to see you again. She came over and in an almost perky tone she said Oh I get it you liked cute little awkward Susan didn't you. I can be that girl if you I interrupted her saying No when you disappeared I went looking for you. The lady at the law office mentioned the porn. Somewhere along the line I got the idea that if I could just talk to you I could make sense of it all. She laughed. Her perky tone turned cold and antagonistic Every day I'd ride that bus from an apartment where I shared a room with six other girls to work a shitty office job where my owners would get money of pathetic fucks watching me toy myself in a real office. Every day you'd talk to me like I was this special girl and for some reason I liked it. I knew you'd never like the real me a whore and an addict but I sat with you anyway. You never knew me. The girl you liked never existed. My heart sank into my chest. Everything about the situation was so broken and wrong. She rubbed my shoulders as I sat there in panic. Her touch was cold and rough. Nothing about her touching me was soothing at all. I felt dirty in ways I hadn't thought possible. This all came to a head when I asked Why? Why do you do this? She stepped away and lit a cigarette. As she exhaled her mouth formed into a slight scowl and she said You think I woke up one day and decided to be a whore? You think I enjoy this? If I don't fuck you tonight I'm getting beaten. If I say no to a customer they do what the want anyway. I can't go to the police. I can't to my owners. Yeah that's right owners. I am owned. They sell me to whoever wants to pay and take the money. I don't get anything more than a roof some drugs and a place to sleep... and now its you. I hope you came prepared because tonight I have to screw the only man that ever made me feel remotely human. I shot back I'll do no such thing. She laughed and said You better. Those clips you saw on the boards aren't voluntary. My owners are gonna want a video. They don't like it when some idiot tries to play Captain Save-a-ho and just talk for the evening. You'll fuck me nice and rough or that Slavic gorilla will beat you to death. It was at that exact moment that I realized just how deep down the rabbit hole I had gone in the name of validating some foolish crush. She grabbed the camera from the table and set it up on a chair she had pulled over to the bed. After pulling back the blanket she walked over to me and said Let's get this over with. I'll do all the work. I'll make sure you enjoy yourself. You paid for the goods you might as well take the service. What happened next is a blur in my mind. I've never watched that video and I have no intention to do so. She turned on the camera and went to work. I did... things italic . I followed her every cue and in turn I did things that quite frankly turn my stomach to think of. This continued for the better part of an hour. When it was done she reached over and turned off the camera. I hadpletely died on the inside. Any shred of decency or dignity that had survived to that point was crushed violently between her thighs. As she lay next to me talking in that perky voice I had fallen for all those months ago; each word carved deeper into my chest. At some point she said for as much time as you paid for their gonna want another video. My participation was purely mechanical at that point. I felt nothing. I'd like to think that maybe I was seeing a glimpse of what she felt like at any given point but after that night I wasn't entirely sure she could feel anything. We finished filming and I spent the next hour sitting in the bathtub crying away the last drops of my soul as the shower ran over me. Morning came and the Slavic gorilla collected Susan saying I hope you got rest you have a shoot today. That wasn't the last time I saw Susan but I wish it was. horizontal-rule I uploaded the raw footage from my SD card onto the VIP boards and proceeded to through the camera against the wall in anger. Anger was all I could feel at that point. Well anger and fear. The fear came when I received an email from her owners stating that as a VIP member I was expected to schedule more visits with Susan. It mentioned that if payment was an issue they offered financing options. That's how I became indebted to Eastern-European sex merchants. Once a month I'd meet up with Susan and do despicable things with her. We didn't talk anymore. She showed up and played her par. I laid there as she did her job. I wasn't enjoying myself but the thought of being beaten to death wasn't very appealing. My level of self-hatred reached depths I thought impossible. I stopped going to work. If I wasn't at home drinking I was busy selling the last of my belongings on eBay to pay off the loan sharks. I knew it was only a matter of time before I was unable to pay and they came for me. I was a coward who had ruined his life in the name of a self-absorbed fantasy. I couldn't see a way out. Ultimately I scheduled one last meeting with Susan. We met in that same hotel room. She wore the outfit I had requested. Instead of going through the motions I simply said Tonight I want you to be that girl. Be cute and awkward Susan. For the first time in months I saw what might have been real emotion on her face. She looked like she was about to tear up. I continued in a cold and indifferent tone Be that human being. I want to destroy something beautiful. She swallowed her tears and dried her eyes. After a few moments she perked up and said Oh hi! It's been a while. You wanna grab some lunch? I stared right through her and said I fucking hate you. I hate everything about you. I hate everything about me that you made me so terribly aware of. I wish you were dead. She soldiered through my hurtful words and replied Don't be silly. It's me! You love me remember? I spit in her direction and replied I was an idiot. I thought for half a second that there was something about me that could possibly attract a sweet girl like who I thought you were. Fuck you Susan. Wait I already did that... On camera no less. To think I ever thought you anything more than a worthless whore. She couldn't maintain the perky act any longer. Her expression turned to one of rage and betrayal. She shouted at me in a language I didn't recognize and then said in English Fuck me? No FUCK YOU! You chose toe back. You chose to buy me month after month. I thought you were different. Like maybe there could be one good guy out there. BUT NO! You turned out like all the rest. You wish I was dead? I WISH I WAS DEAD. FUCK YOU! The tears streamed from her eyes as she screamed. I approached her and she shoved me as I came in for an embrace. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed the top of her forehead as I repeated the line I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. We stood there in that moment my arms around her was we both cried. Still holding her tightly I whispered It's not your fault. I'm so sorry. She pushed me away and said That's great. Hug it out. Now let's get this over with. I didn't think it possible but she had shocked me one last time. I started for the door and she said They have cameras in this room asshole. They watch us. They know all about your little crush and how much you hated each moment. The video you upload is just icing on the cake. They get off on that shit. Nowe over here and fuck me. You know what they are going to do if you don't. I turned toward her and asked Do you have any sex toys in that bag you carry? She nodded and I continued Well then you can go fuck yourself. I'm done. I walked home. Two hours of walking gave me some perspective. I expected I'd be beaten to death or worse for storming out of there but I didn't care. By the time I had climbed the stairs and walked into my apartment the Slavic gorilla was posted up on my couch with a portable DVD player in his hand. He smiled and said Bossman said you watch this. Now watch this. He put the player in front of me and pressed play. What followed was a video of the gorilla violently assaulting Susan. He was merciless and sadistic she screamed until he choked the life out of her. Then the he walked over to the camera and picked it up. He held the camera on his smiling face and picked her limp body up with his free hand. He casually walked down to the dumpster and tossed her inside. Then while speaking into the camera he said in a thick Eastern-European accent I took out trash. Get it. The video stopped and he turned to me saying You owe bossman thirty large. You work asputer nerd yes? You work for bossman now. You work off debt. As I sit here in my cubicle writing this I cannot help but wonder how I'll be punished for taking the time to write this. I sleep in a room with six other guys. I'm lucky if I get a meal between the twelve hour shifts. Each dayes with a beating and a reminder that I'm a worthless deadbeat. They pass out drugs like candy. Each dose we accept is added onto our debt. I work in the coding pool. As an added bonus I was also tasked with taking videos of my encounters with Susan and cutting them into preview videos posted to be posted on several free porn sites with s to their network. They say I could earn faster by joining the actor pool but frankly I don't see the point. I'll sit here in my own personal hell as I maintain an industry that destroyed my life. If I'm lucky I'll be beaten to death or die at some point. I deserve this.