Chapter 1: Initial Transcripts
Those who’ve read my earlier posts know that I seem to find darkness wherever I go. It’s a bad habit that I clearly have no idea how to break, which is why my current situation should come as absolutely no surprise to anyone who’s been paying attention. Apparently that’s a list that doesn’t include me though because, upon finding an old desktop computer tower hidden behind the water-heater in my girlfriend Alice’s condo, my first reaction was to bring the computer home and dig through its files. In my world that’s called “asking for it.”
I already had the remnants of a similar Dell model stashed in a closet at my place complete with a compatible monitor, A/C cord, etc. which made setup quite easy. I turned the computer on and was greeted by a Windows XP password-entry screen for a user named “Enid.” Apparently, the original owner of this computer was a 90 year-old woman.
Because a lot of my friends are terrible people, I knew that there were ways around Windows passwords that required little more than a thumb-drive and several dubious keyword searches. But first, out of simple compulsive habit, I typed “password” and hit ENTER. And of course it worked.
The computer unlocked to reveal a desktop with a painting of the DC villain Harley Quinn as its background. Yup, definitely a girl’s computer, though maybe “Enid” wasn’t 90 after all, but simply the victim of parents with an unfortunate taste in names.
At this point, I feel it’s worth noting that I am not a monster. I wasn’t on some mission to invade this poor girl’s privacy. I wasn’t looking to steal anyone’s identity. I was simply curious.
The maintenance guy had found the tower when he was replacing a part on the water-heater, which was located at the back of Alice’s bedroom closet. Enid was most likely a former tenant of my girlfriend’s condo who had used the closet for storage but that doesn’t explain why she had felt the need to wedge her computer behind a water-heater.
There were seven folders on the desktop along with a small assortment of program icons: Microsoft Word, Photoshop, a program for live-streaming video that I had never heard of, etc. The seven folders were labeled, from top to bottom: “music”, “movies”, “pictures”, “art”, “writing”, “video”, and finally “logs.”
Call it the power of placement, but I clicked on “logs” first mainly because every other folder had a name that was self-explanatory. The “logs” folder contained over a dozen Word documents. The name of each document was a month followed by a year, starting on “February, 2012” and ending with “January, 2014.”
The computer itself was from the mid-2000s at the latest. If my girlfriend’s condo complex hadn’t been so upscale, that fact wouldn’t have bothered me so much. But I had to wonder what someone who could afford over a grand a month on rent was doing using a computer from ’05 in 2014. I started skimming through the earliest log and it quickly became obvious that Enid was no air-traffic controller.
The following is a transcript of the first page of the earliest document.
BESTinLIFE – starts: 12:40am
Client requests that I position myself with my spread butt cheeks held close to the camera and stay that way while occasionally calling him a “dirty little limp-dick slave boy.”
Ends: 12:51am [11 mins]
MarcosPoloTX – starts: 1:05am
Client requests that I urinate into a bucket. I lay a plastic sheet down on the floor in front of the camera and do so.
Ends: 1:10am [5 mins]
Gorgeous Randy Flamethrower – starts: 1:24am
Client requests that I put on my Freddy Kruger hat, toy glove, and striped sweater with no panties and then play with myself while reciting lines from a Nightmare on Elm Street. As the client ejaculates, he shouts “oh god!” and I respond by holding my gloved hand up in front of my face and saying in a deep guttural voice, “THIS… is god.”*
*That made the client super happy. Think I have a new regular.
Ends: 1:42am [18 mins]
pocketfullarollos – starts: 1:47am
Client requests a voice chat but says nothing. It sounds like he is sobbing. I don’t know what to do so I just sit there, staring at the camera. After a few minutes, he screams “Why?! WHY?!” and then closes the voice chat.
Ends: 1:51am [4 mins]
TonyMontanaLIVES Starts: 1:58am
Client requests that I kneel on the bed and expose my butthole to the camera. Client occasionally asks me to “thank daddy” and each time I say “thank you, daddy” to which he responds “good girl.”
Ends: 2:07am [9 mins]
That’s right, Enid was a cam-girl: a woman who live-streamed herself acting out various requests from what was usually a lobby full of horny onlookers. Though Enid’s specialty was private video chats; more costly one-on-one sessions that presumably created an illusion of intimacy between cam-girl and client (I say “presumably” because I wouldn’t know. I get my porn the old fashioned way: off of free streaming sites.)