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Click hereFinally, after some final rounds of tests and medicine administration, they filed her paperwork, and told her she was free to leave. They offered to let her see the baby one last time but she declined. They gave her some donated, poorly fitting clothes to leave in. She had no other possessions in the world, not even a wallet or phone. No ID, no card, nothing. She could maybe try to contact Kevin to retrieve some of her things from her old apartment, if it was even still around, but she didn't want to have to see or speak to him. What would she do with some furniture now anyway? Where would she put it? She blinked in the sunlight and went and sat on a bus stop bench, dazed. It was the first time she had been out free in the world in over nine months. The first time since realizing how far-reaching and comprehensive her exploitation and exposure was online. The last time she was free in the world, she was going out to a nice dinner with her boyfriend, thinking that she was about to be proposed to, that she had successfully started another life and could move on from the horrible fate that had befallen her. How wrong she had been. How naive.
She sat on the bench and watched a bus pull up, wait a moment, and then move on again. Her head spun at the complete hopelessness or her situation. Where could she even go? She probably couldn't go get a job, not with her obviously comprehensive online presence, and now a criminal record. Her old fears about being recognized on the streets were now confirmed to be legitimate. People obviously recognized her frequently, and now they'd probably be more bold than ever in having their way with her. Images of her facing a camera and saying some variation of the message flashed through her head: "My name is Melody Ann Ainsley. Any man can fuck me anytime. If I say no, I really mean yes." People obviously saw that, and now she knew they would be taking it seriously. They saw other people taking advantage of it and facing no consequences. Why couldn't they? Far from slipping away into the dark corners of the web to fade into obscurity, a whole thriving community of interest had sprung up around her, sharing, duplicating, spreading, seeking out the creation of new content. She hadn't had to face the reality while she was in jail, bizarrely protected in a sense inside those walls. Now that she was out here again, alone, the full weight of the implications of all those fan sites they had showed her that night in the hotel suite hit her.
Should she try to get back to Spokane and just attempt to go back to her old life, but reduced to a shamed whore? Just embrace her fate? What else could she do? Would anyone even accept her?
She eventually walked to a nearby homeless shelter to spend the night. She had no other options for the time being. She gave them a fake name. They didn't ask too many questions.
She lay in bed, wondering what would happen to her next. She wondered if she would even be able to maintain any sense of control of her life at all, or if that was forever surrendered to the whims of multitudes of cruel, lustful strangers. She knew the answer. She reached down and felt the wetness between her legs, and, furious at herself, quietly brought herself to orgasm under the sheets and then cried herself to sleep.
(To be continued)
I realize this is fiction, and everyone has their kinks, so no kink shaming here. But the longer it goes on the more depressed I’m getting. I feel the hopelessness of it all. I think I have to stop reading for fear of curling into a ball on the bed.
Just when I'm on the brink of giving up hope, I check the comments and a lifeline is thrown out.
I had begun thinking this was the last chapter. In my mind Melody has gotten a job at the homeless shelter, serving up food in the daytime and sex at night to all those grateful homeless men; and enjoying herself immensely as she does it.
Are you about to end the next chapter? I hope you didn't/won't catch COVID-19, because situation in USA is serious.