A Room with a View

My landlord is a pervert. She felt disgusted that she had trusted him and even called him a friend. She felt betrayed, but she also felt conflicted. After all, she had only discovered this by spying on him, making her feel like a hypocrite.

As an insult to injury, she began to wonder how she would ever find another decent apartment at such an affordable price.

Despite all of her panic, she could not seem to draw herself away from the window, and she continued to watch as the video on his screen ended. With one hand still wrapped around his dick, he minimized one window on his screen and brought up another one.

It was difficult to see from her position, but she watched as he opened up a folder containing a long list of files. Still stroking, he browsed until he found what he was looking for and opened it. Once again, the screen showed an image of the same washroom, now empty.

Soon, another figure walked into the frame, entering the washroom and closing the door behind her. Placing some items on the counter, the girl on the screen took out her phone and scrolled through it, finding something and tapping the device several times.

Placing the phone on the bathroom counter, Katrina watched as the image of herself swayed to some music that only the girl on the screen, and presumably Spencer, could hear.

Katrina could feel her throat tighten as her image on the computer screen reached down and quickly pulled off her t-shirt, exposing a pair of B-cup breasts adorned with small caramel-colored nipples. Spencer's arm visibly sped up as the two of them stared at Katrina's topless figure, dancing alone in the washroom.

Katrina wanted to scream. She wanted to smash the computer screen. She wanted to beg for him to turn it off and deleted it.

Instead, she watched helplessly as the video continued and her image on the screen bounced excitedly around the washroom, hanging a towel on a nearby hook and turning on the water in the shower. Her breasts bounced with each step, and Katrina's eyes switched back and forth between her topless image and her landlord.

She wanted to be mad. She knew that she should be mad, and perhaps part of her was. She could argue that he was a disgusting pervert for what he was doing, and she was innocent because she had accidentally caught him masturbating... but she had chosen to turn around and keep watching him. I know it's not as bad, but still...

Katrina was shocked by the realization that her hand was still firmly placed over her shorts. She shuddered, feeling ashamed that some part of her was aroused by the sight before her.

It was like watching a train wreck, and she could not bring herself to look away.

But there was something more. Some part of her felt drawn to the depravity of it, transfixed by some otherworldly desire.

She continued to watch in horror as the girl on the screen slipped out of her bottoms and kicked them to the side. The panties immediately followed, and soon the two voyeurs watched as Katrina stepped into the shower stall.

The windows around the stall did little to obscure the picture, and Katrina could still clearly make out the darkened colour of her nipples and the patch of finely trimmed pubic hair. The naked girl on the screen naively began washing her body, clearly unware that an audience was enjoying her vulnerable state of exposure.

As Katrina remembered the number of files she had just seen moments ago, part of her felt deflated. Spencer had dozens, perhaps hundreds of these videos. She had no way of knowing how many times he had watched this exact video or how many other videos of her he had watched. How many times had he watched Elizabeth? How many times had he watched Kelly? How many other girls had he watched?

Spencer reached for the mouse with one hand and skipped the video ahead several minutes. On the computer screen, the shower door opened, and a completely naked Katrina reached for her nearby towel. Her wet skin shined in the bright washroom lights, her hair clung to her skin, and her most private moments were immortalized for Spencer's collection... for his enjoyment.

Just admit it, she told herself. You know it's true. Katrina took a deep breath. This if fucking hot.

"Fuck..." she whispered inaudibly in the dark. She had hoped that admitting it would perhaps make her feel less guilty, but it did not. Resigned to her fate, she unbuttoned her shorts and slipped her hand into her panties.

On the screen, her naked self was just finished drying and was grabbing something from a drawer, just out of frame of the camera.

Oh no, Katrina thought, remembering what was coming.

On the computer, the completely exposed version of her continued to bounce in time with the music, opening a bottle of lotion and squirting some into her hand.

Spencer's hand slowed down, then suddenly began masturbating more vigorously as Katrina rubbed the lotion onto her skin, starting on her arms and moving inward. In no time, she was rubbing lotion over her exposed breasts.

Katrina felt compelled to move back towards the first window. She was not sure she could bear to watch what was coming in the video. Or, at least that's what she told herself. She knew that deep down, she desperately wanted to watch her landlord cum as he watched her video. Her face burned with shame as she began to finger herself in the cold night.

No longer able to see the computer screen, she instead stared at his cock as it was vigorously stroked. Part of her wished that she was in the room, under his desk, jerking him off instead. She stared at the bulbous head of his cock, and she wished that she could wrap her lips around it. She wanted to feel it relentlessly fucking the back of her throat. She wanted a hand on the back of her head, firmly holding her pretty face in position. She wanted her landlord to take her body and make it his.

She could tell he was getting close, and she suspected she knew exactly what was on the screen. By this point, the oblivious girl in the video was most likely done with lotion and had moved onto something more vulgar. She was probably showing Spencer just how much she loved having her nipples pinched. The girl on the screen, no more than an object with the sole purpose of being exposed, was showing her landlord exactly how she liked to be fingered. Katrina—a Dean's List student, quiet, and innocent—was now letting this pervert hear the sound of her moans, especially at the height of an orgasm.

Katrina let out a small moan as a stream of pearl white erupted, watching in slow motion as it landed somewhere on the floor beside him. There was no turning back now as she rubbed her clit, trying to muffle her moans with her other arm as she quickly brought herself to orgasm.

Spencer was still cleaning up the mess as she picked up her laundry basket and quietly slipped back inside the house. Still trembling and terrified that her footsteps might be heard in the basement, she inched towards the stairs and then retreated to her room.

Placing the laundry at the foot of her bed, she paced back and forth, struggling to slow down her breathing. Desperate to calm herself, she went to washroom to splash water on her face.

Her hands were already below the faucet before she realized where she was now standing.

She nearly panicked as she wondered if she was now on camera. Can he see me now?

Forcing herself to try and act casually, she continued to wash her face, the same as she normally would before bed. Discretely, her eyes scanned around the room, looking for anything unusual. From the angle that the videos were taken, she knew roughly where the camera should be.

But try as she might, she could not recognize anything that looked out of the ordinary. It would help if I knew what I was looking for, she thought. She had no idea what a hidden camera might look like, and she had lived in the house long enough that everything here looked ordinary by now.

Defeated, she returned to her room. She sat on her bed and another thought intruded on her mind. Can he see me in here too?

It had been twenty minutes since she discovered her landlord's dark secret, and she still had not done anything about it.

She wondered what would happen if she called the police. Would they find the camera? Or did they need to with so much evidence on Spencer's computer?

It suddenly dawned on her that somebody would need to watch these videos if he was arrested. They would be considered evidence, and one or more police officers would be given the job of watching them... probably all of them. They might even be used as evidence at a trial.

Katrina felt disgusted and excited by the thought of some other middle-aged man watching her shower. How many people in total would get to see this? And not just her, but Elizabeth and Kelly as well.

She hated to consider it, but she wondered if the lesser evil might just be to pretend she did not see anything.

Of course that's bullshit. Who knows how many tenants have used that washroom... how many he has recorded... how many more he will record.

Her brain was trying to rationalize what her body wanted in the moment—to fixate on the arousing aspects of her discovery and to try and ignore the terrifying ones. There was no getting around the fact that Spencer was a terrible person, taking advantage of young naïve women to fulfil his own gratification.

And that's exactly what Katrina wanted right now.

Grabbing a towel from her floor and turning on some music from her phone, she proceeded to the washroom.

Maybe a shower will help me think...