From Jenny to Mei Ch. 01

The one thing she was terrified of was someone finding out about her secret side. Not just about her amateur porn addiction, but because she had been so successful in keeping up the front of an innocent young woman, no one had any idea she was a slut. The idea of being exposed was horrifying, and not in a sexy sort of way. Not a thrilling, 'I might be caught' kind of thing.

Since moving back to San Francisco she had made a lot of good friends. Not 'friend' friends, the kind you had long conversations with over the phone about nothing, or went to concerts with or anything. These were status friends. The kind of people who were going to be in her social circle for decades into the future. She had cultivated the right kind of people, a lawyer or two, a female journalist, she even had a friend in the mayor's office.

Sure she had a shitty job but she played it for all it was worth. Pretending that working in the free clinic was her way of giving back to the community. She was a hypocrite, and she was fine with that. But if anyone found out that she was a whore and that she had been pumping her pussy with a cucumber and posting it online it would be a very hard thing to explain. With the kind of friends she'd made and the kind of friends she wanted to have it would be like contracting leprosy.

She also had her eyes on the guy who would become her husband. She was a completely heartless bitch but she really wanted to get married and have kids. It was a weakness she knew but there was some urge in her to settle down, have kids with an easy to control guy who could earn a lot of money, then she could become something more like a normal person.

Kevin was a an ok guy, kinda charmingly sweet and attentive. She hadn't had sex with him because that's not where she wanted to be with him right now. She wanted to string him along, keep him in the background and engage his long-term interest rather than just fuck him and toss him aside. That was the closest thing she could come to loving someone.

And then her world fell apart.

##########

One day this guy walked into the clinic on the STD testing day, approached the counter and as bold as you please said, "I'm here to get an STD checkup."

Lots of normal people, folks who would never go to a free clinic, came in on Thursday mornings for STD testing because it was free and confidential. They could get tested without their wives or girlfriends finding out they'd been to the doctor and start asking questions. They were usually shy, only obliquely mentioning the purpose of their visit. This guy just came out and said it like ordering a latte at Starbucks.

He also chatted her up, which was really unusual. Guys who thought they might have the clap were not in the pick-up frame of mind, but this guy went on and on about her eyes and hair, asked her name and was really kind of ok. She'd check his results and, who knew, maybe he had potential if he came out clean.

She made sure she took the phones the next Wednesday when people called in for their results. His name was Phil Conners, she knew because he had to show an ID when registering. The testing was confidential but records were still kept, it's just that no one was supposed to see them, no one except the staff that is.

He called, she told him he was clean, then he said, "Great. Now that you know I'm clean, let's go out."

She brushed him off, she wasn't easy and she always chose her targets, not the other way around.

The next day he was back.

"You again?" she said.

"Yep,"

"Another test?"

"Yep. Been a bad boy."

"You're number 34. Fill out the form and take a seat." She said. 'Got to give the guy credit,' she thought, 'either he's either got a great social life or he's persistent.'

It went on like this for a month. The clinic director took him aside the third time and told him he couldn't come back if all he was doing was trying to get a date with a staff member, but Phil showed up again the following Thursday. They couldn't do anything about him showing up and taking tests... it was their mandate to treat or test anyone for any reason.

"You're not really having sex with hundreds of women are you?" Jenny said to him as he took the clipboard. She'd xeroxed his completed form the last time he was in, as a bit of a joke and to save him time when he returned.

"You've discovered my ruse. It only took six weeks for you to see my scheme."

"There was never really any need for you to take an STD test, was there."

"Nope."

"You're number 37. Fill out the form and take a seat." This time she said it with a smile.

It was kind of romantic after all; Jenny found that she liked romantic for the first time ever. But she was still not going to go out with him, she did the choosing, and that was that.

The next Thursday, something happened. Phil had had enough of being Mr. Nice Guy and put Plan B into action.

He had an interesting background. He was thirty-five, self employed as a computer security consultant, mostly in the defense industry. He'd spent four years in federal prison for hacking corporate networks in his early-twenties. It wasn't a cake walk but it wasn't too bad either. Minimum security. He got out, turned straight and started making legit money. Now he wanted a woman. Specifically, he wanted Jenny. He enjoyed Jenny's rejections. It just made what was going to come so much more delicious.

He couldn't say why Jenny in particular, drew him. Thin Asian girls were two a penny in San Francisco but her cocky self confidence, the disdain she'd show people at the clinic and at the coffee shop made her perfect. She also had a great little body and a face that looked like it would show pain beautifully.

He'd first noticed her at a Starbucks, then followed her back to her building and saw her enter the clinic's employee entrance. He decided to get an STD test the next Thursday to see if she still appealed to him.

It was six weeks later and she had indeed continued to appeal, his interest now an obsession.

Plan B was simple. He'd set off the fire alarm, steal her iPhone, drain it of personal information and go from there. Much easier than hacking her home computer and he couldn't get sent back to jail this way, maybe.

Setting off the alarm was simple, he just used a pair of electrician's scissors to jimmy the telephone room door, clipped on a remote actuated switch to some wires in the fire alarm control panel and when he pressed a button in his pocket a signal would go back to the switch and close the circuit, just as if someone had pulled one of the handles.

As he stood before Jenny for the seventh time, he said, "Last chance. Come out with me for lunch and let's get to know one another."

She said, "You're number 29. Fill out the form and take a seat." No banter, no smile and he knew she was sick of him.

He triggered the alarm, pissed off at her for making him go the hard way. She looked up and around. "Is there a drill today?" she asked a co-worker and people started to talk and ask the same question.

"We'd better go," someone said. Jenny turned to get her purse and her phone that had been right there. "Shit... where's my phone?"

It was in Phil's pocket and he was back in the closet closing the red door to the fire alarm box.

The next Thursday Phil didn't show. Jenny was a bit sad. Relieved a bit but really disappointed that he hadn't returned. He'd been kind of a creep but sweet in a way. She was glad that he'd get away unscathed at least, she wouldn't have to dump him like the others when the 'I love you' crap started. 'Oh Well... the romance bit was kinda nice,' she thought. Maybe she'd let Kevin get romantic when his turn came. She had to get married someday.

One more noteworthy thing happened. She found her phone again. It must have fallen between the desk and the filing cabinet, cause there it was. 'Hmm, odd.'

That week Phil copied the root file system of her iPhone and dug through all the log files. You could learn a lot about how a phone was used if you knew how to comb through the gibberish, which he did. He had all the tools and expertise he needed as one of his jobs was securing these devices for his clients. He knew the iPhone's OS and file system very, very well.

The backup he had made of her phone was much more comprehensive than you do when you back up your phone to your Mac. His copy was a complete clone that could be written to a new device. A perfect duplicate, right down the the MAC addresses of the CDMA radio that would even register to the provider network and make and receive her phone calls, if he wanted.

Phil had discovered a lot about Jenny. He'd read every one of her emails for the past seven years, and pretty entertaining reading it was. Jenny wasn't the prim girl he'd taken her for... which was, perfect. He tried to get her one way, but he would get her another.

She was sloppy about security, as most people were, and only had three passwords and four usernames. He looked at her mobile browser's cookies and hit the jackpot. He found she had a profile on a porn clip sharing site, the kind where people watched short pirated porn clips, upload photos and videos of themselves and invite like minded 'friends' to share. Her username was AsianToy and her password was fuckmefuckmeharderharder.

He spoofed her home IP address, which wasn't that hard and logged into the site using her info. He made copies of all the clips, copied the messages between all her online 'friends', of which there were hundreds, and generally sucked the page clean. He already had all of her contacts and the thousands of email addresses of the people she had emailed in the past in a spreadsheet. He had everything he needed.

His preparations were complete. Now for a bit of simple blackmail. But one thing he had to clear up first, he had to erase himself from the free clinic and this would get him thrown in jail if it went wrong. It meant getting the file out of the huge cabinet from behind Jenny's desk. Since they expected him back every Thursday they hadn't taken it back to storage as they usually did after a week or two. He wouldn't need to hack in and delete himself from the database as the free clinic didn't enter patient info into one. One level of privacy that he appreciated.

So, nothing but direct action would do. He simply entered the building, hung around until the clinic closed, brought out the retractable ladder he'd brought and, from the bathroom that abutted the suite, climbed into the ceiling, opened the tile on the other side of the wall, dropped in, took his file, and climbed back over. He was out in five minutes and there was no longer a record of Phil Conners. Jenny would remember his name, sure, but she was soon going to be in no position to complain to anyone.

##########

It was time to begin, but he wanted to play with her a bit. He crack into her home computer using the info in the iPhone logs and controlled it remotely. He created the following draft email and left it visible on her screen.

Addressed to about a hundred of her contacts. It read:

Subject: See what a filthy whore I am

Message: I've been leading a secret life and I wanted to come clean to my friends and family. The pictures below are of me exercising my perverted nature. I've been doing horrible things to my body with all manor of devices and toys and I'm so ashamed. I hope you'll forgive me.

Attached were five photos of her stuffing her cunt with all kinds of objects, from the handles of razors to vegetables and a few of her standing over the camera parting her wet pussy lips.

He knew she lived alone, shit, he knew everything about her by now, so a roommate wouldn't stumble on the message.

He also, just for fun, turned on her web cam built into her Mac, pushed the video up to a server in Asia he had as part of his former life and altered the OS to keep the little light off. He would see and hear her reaction when she saw the message that awaited her. It was going to be so much fun.

##########

Jen got off work, got a bite with a co-worker and headed home, still in a funk that Phil hadn't shown up. She thought that at least she'd go online when she got back, connect with her fellow perverts, watch some porn and go to sleep, much as she did most nights. What greeted her on her computer in her bedroom didn't register at first. She recognized the photos and thought, for just an instant, that she'd left the tube site up before leaving home. But she was always so careful to log out, even though she lived alone. She was careful because she knew, if she didn't one day someone would find out.

Then she realized it was an email message and quickly sat down to look closer, fear gripping her heart as she read the subject. "Oh My God!" she blurted out. "What the fuck!" as she read the contents. "Jezzzus Christ!" as she saw some of the addresses in the To: field.

She panicked, looked around and did the first thing she could think of. She pulled the plug on her computer. She figured computers can't work if they don't have power.

She stood up, circled the small room, saying, "Oh fuck, oh my god, oh fuck...oh holy shit, Holy Shit... Oh fuck, oh fuck..." over and over and over. She settled down for half a second. Then got up and did it all over again. She tore at her hair. Extended her walking panic to other rooms in the apartment, chanting the same three obscenities over and over like a mantra. "Oh fuck, oh my god, oh fuck...oh holy shit."

Then, in the kitchen, she said, "Ok... Ok... what the fuck... someone did that. Someone broke in here and downloaded those photos and set up that email and ... fuck ... fuck ... holy shit... left it for me to find." It didn't quell her panic but made her feel more vulnerable. If someone did that they might come in here any minute and rape her or ... whatever... she wasn't safe.

"Fuck... what am I going to do.. Shit.. Shit... Shit... What the fuck am I going to do. Who would fucking do this to me? Who knew how to find those pictures? Who knew about that?"

She wracked her brain for an hour and came up with the most likely answer. One of her motherfucking online 'friends' had tracked her down, broke in her apartment and was going to blackmail her. She didn't understand all that hacker shit but she knew life online had risks and that people could do some real fucking with your life if you weren't careful. She realized that all her precautions were an illusion.

If this were what was happening they could have already sent the email or another version. The only way she'd know is to check her emails and see if someone had responded... someone like her mother. But she couldn't risk turning back on the computer. She'd not received anything on her cell phone but took it out to check. No... no new messages from mom disowning her. Nothing from her friends saying, 'nice photos, Jenny'.

She figured she'd have to turn the computer back on and see what she could discover.

Gingerly, like she was handling a snake, she plugged the Mac back in, pressed the button on the back and winced when she heard the chime. After it boot up she just starred at the screen for a few moments. She jumped when she saw the cursor move by itself. "Fuck!" her heart skipped a beat. Her computer was moving on its own. Then the black arrow slowly made its way down the the bottom of the screen, to the dock and it opened the TextEdit app she never used and a window opened. Text started to appear before her stunned eyes. Someone was controlling her computer. The motherfucker who had done this to her.

"Hi Jenny. You've been a naughty girl haven't you?"

The cursor blinked insistently, like a cold heartbeat, threatening her.

She found her courage.

"FUCK YOU!!" she wrote back.

"Now Jenny. Is that anyway to start our relationship?"

"Who the FUCK are you?"

"Patience, my dear. Patience. Let's just say I'm your new best friend."

"Did you contact any of my friends?" she wrote.

"Not yet? Are you really so embarrassed about the secret you?"

"I am going to find out who you are and call the cops."

"Now, now. Don't loose your temper. You can trust me. Or I should write, you must trust me."

"Fuck you."

"That's better."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you started out with all caps and three exclamation marks. Now its a single capital and no superfluous punctuation. You are beginning to trust me already."

"FUCK YOU!!"

"Jenny. Let me point out one thing that may have not occurred to you. Two things actually. One, if I wanted to exposed your perverted secrets to your family and friends, I would have done so already. And two, I know a lot more about this sort of thing than you do."

"And?"

"Just that it is in your best interests to do what I want and not put up a fight. Anyway, knowing what I do about you, I am sure you're going to like it?"

"Like what. What do you fucking want from me?"

"Everything."

"I don't have money."

"I don't want your money. I know to a penny what is in your bank account and $463.23 is not impressive."

"Fuck you. You bastard." She wasn't sure what the total was but that sounded about right.

"You should get all this anger out now because I'm not going to let you talk like this in person."

"What do you mean? I am never going to meet you in person you creep. Who the fuck are you?"

"Sure you will. You'll have no choice. Think of how I can ruin your life. Think of how your mother will feel looking at that video of the cucumber up your cunt or read the messages to Ryoko in Tokyo. Does your mother know of your lesbian yearnings."

Oh fuck, she thought to herself, he really does know everything. Ryoko was a lesbian in Tokyo she'd made friends with. They chatted for a few months and they had FaceTimed each other and enjoyed some long distance masturbation together. Did he have that video? Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

"You are bluffing." She couldn't think of anything else to write.

"Jenny?"

"Yes, asshole?"

"You don't really think I am bluffing do you? I mean, I've gone to a lot of trouble to get you in this position and it would be such a let down to just send those emails and post those videos online and ruin your life. I really don't want to do that but I will and wash my hands and forget all about you. Just like you did with all those boyfriends you told SinoSlut about. You know, the teacher in high school. I wonder if he is still in China? And the lawyer in college, what was his name..."

She wrenched away control and starting typing.

"Okay... all right... what the fuck do you want."

"I told you... everything."

"Be fucking specific."

"I'll let you think about it for 24 hours. Use your imagination... think nice thoughts and you'll know. But one word of warning. If you try to contact the police or talk about this to your friends or momma, I'll send those emails and post those videos. Don't think you are smarter than me. Don't think I won't know. Don't test me AsianToy... I'll do it."

Just then the text was highlighted in a flash of blue and then disappeared from her screen. What remained was a blank window and the blinking cursor.

##########

Jenny was well and truly fucked and she knew it. She didn't sleep, didn't even try and called into work sick at 7:30 leaving a message in the director's voicemail.

She cussed more in the last twelve hours than all the combined, shits, fucks, and motherfuckers she'd uttered in her twenty-three years combined.

Finally at ten she fell asleep after a quarter bottle of cough syrup.

When she awoke at four in the afternoon she still had no answers but she'd figured out what 'everything' meant. Sex was definitely one element of everything but she wasn't sure if that was it. Perhaps this guy or girl, unlikely but possible, wanted her to shine his shoes and buy his groceries. Maybe he was some hairy shut-in living in Oakland, three-hundred-and-fifty pounds with cheese encrusted foreskin and a love of anal fisting.