I clicked a pop-up for a weird Cam Site. Now it’s too late.

It was a late Sunday night and I decided that that some ‘me time’ would help secure a good night’s sleep to prepare for the monotony of another week in the office. My girlfriend was a marketing consultant and had to travel around quite a bit. It was a great job, paid well and kept her mild wanderlust satiated. I didn’t mind being alone and had never been the jealous type, so she didn’t have to worry about me nagging her over imagined betrayals. However, the lack of intimacy did sometimes leave me wanting. So I broke out old faithful. The laptop that was so dated it still ran windows seven. The laptop that had been wiped of any personal information. One that wouldn’t be missed if some malware bricked it into oblivion. The porn laptop.

Now I know that probably sounds a little creepy, but it was the same laptop that I used to pirate movies and even play free flash games. I just didn’t want my actual nice computer getting messed up or anyone threatening to email pictures of my nether regions to my Grandma if I didn’t buy them a Walmart gift card. Safety first, ya know? If I’m being honest, I was the type of guy that could put  “boobies” in the search bar and smile dumbly at whatever popped up. Just a simple man, with simple tastes, but tonight had me feeling a  little on the adventurous side. I typed “BDSM” into the search bar on everybody’s favorite orange site and started scrolling. That scene was unexplored territory and as I looked through the thumbnails I found myself in awe at the ways people found to use rope.  Some of the thumbnails showed bodies bent in angles I didn’t think possible. At this point it was more of a learning experience than it was a quest to get myself off. 

I had made it to page three without even clicking into anything when a pop-up of a woman with a frizzy jet black bob took over my screen. She stared at me with eyes of icy grey that were heavily shadowed in tinges of black and red. If it weren’t for the clearly perfect makeup job on the rest of her face, she would have looked sleep deprived.The ad was only revealing her face and bare shoulders but the woman held her hands clasped together in the frame just enough to see they were bound at the wrist. 

“Are you ready to ruin me, Daddy?” 

The question blared through the old speakers in an over-the-top tone that was supposed to pass for sexy, startling me. It was so abrupt that I found myself scrambling to turn the volume down like I was fifteen again, trying to muffle it before my parents burst through the door. 

On the screen another pop up appeared over the woman’s face. It had no formatting or decorum, just the drab gray and blues of your retro windows interface. The box simply read: 

Ruin Me? 

Yes.  No. 

I was still laughing at myself for freaking out over the noise. What he hell, why not?  I clicked it and waited in amused anticipation for what I was sure would be one of the world’s shittiest cam sites to load, but the pop up simply disappeared. A few more seconds went by. Nothing. By this point it was really getting late. I ended my educational journey into the kink community and just clicked the next thumbnail on the screen. Yep, there were indeed boobies. Mission accomplished. A completely respectable amount of time later and I was dozing off. 

The next morning flew by in a flurry of meetings and coffee refills. Monday’s were always hectic. Company policy dictated that we waste pretty much a full day meeting with one another and clients to discuss work expectations for the week instead of actually doing said work. Before I knew it I was already heading home for the evening. I spent the evening cleaning up a bit and took the dog for a walk then gave my girlfriend a call before settling in for the night. She told me about the work she had been doing with her clients and I complained about my meetings. When we talked about our weekends I conveniently left out my internet escapades. 

“Okay well I’ll see tomorrow baby, have a good night!” 

“You too babe, drive safe in the morning, love you!” I replied. 

Tuesday, I sat down in my cubical half on autopilot, still fighting away the drowsiness of the morning. When I opened my work laptop I nearly jumped out of my seat. The lockscreen had been replaced with the pale face of the woman from the popup ad. A large thumb was tucked into her mouth from an offscreen hand, It tugged at her bottom lip, forcing her mouth open and smudging the perfect lipstick.

“Can’t wait for you to ruin me Da-” 

I slammed the laptop shut, cutting her ministrations short. My eyes darted around the room while I sat frozen in my seat. I was terrified to move. Sticking my head out to see if anyone had heard would just confirm my guilt. 

Oh God. What the hell was that? I’m going to lose my job. 

Seconds crawled by, feeling like eons. I had to know. I slowly rolled the chair back and looked at the adjacent seating, breathing a  small sigh of relief. All empty save for Tim, a few cubes down. 

“Eveything okay buddy?” He asked, giving me a small smirk. 

“Yea…all good man.” I stammered trying to hide the embarrassment in my voice.

Being early to work paid off. Tim had definitely heard it, but I had seen some of the things playing on his screen when I walked by during lunch break. He wasn’t going to tell anyone. I slowly inched the screen of my laptop back open, Holding my breath, I peeked under the screen, like a child waiting in anticipation for a jack in the box to pop. The screen came to life and I was ready to slam it shut again but the woman was gone. I ran my antivirus program. Then I ran it again. After half heartedly trying to work for a couple of hours I ran it a third time. All clean, each and every scan. It didn’t make sense. The computer at home was a shell. It had  been wiped of any and all identifying information outside of a burner email that served as a spam box. I had definitely never logged onto it on my work laptop.  It just wasn’t possible, how the hell had she popped up on the screen? Work came to a close and I had barely gotten anything done. 

My face brightened a bit when I saw my girlfriend’s car in the parking lot of the apartment complex. When I opened the door, she was waiting for me near the entryway. I leaned in for the kiss I always gave her when she got back from a work trip and felt the sharp smack of her palm against the side of my face. 

“You really think I want to kiss you right now?” She scolded me. 

“I leave for the weekend and come back home to find this greeting me? I looked past her into the living room and saw that the TV was on. A dank looking concrete room filled the screen. At its center was the woman from the pop up. She laid spread eagle, ankles and wrists bound to the metal frame of the barebones bed. Sweat glistened from her nude body.

“I don’t know if this is your idea of joke or some weird proposition, but I’m not fucking impressed. You’re disgusting, Ethan.” 

“No wait, baby, please.” I called after her as she stormed toward the apartment door. 

“Please Monica,  just wait a minute, I can explain.” I babbled, reaching out for her. 

She slapped my hand away.

“You do not have the privilege of touching me right now.” She barked. 

“Just, leave me alone.” 

I felt my gut twist at the hurt leaking into her voice. I wanted to beg her to stay, but before I could find the words the door slammed in face. 

She was gone. I was all alone in my apartment. Just me and the woman who still stared blankly from the TV screen. 

I furiously jammed the power button on the remote, wishing that she was the one gone from my life. Over and over I pressed the button but the TV wouldn’t turn off. Eventually I stomped over and unplugged it. A quick line of static ran through the screen, but the image remained. 

A long tear rolled down the woman’s eye streaking the heavy makeup. 

“I’m ready to be ruined.” 

Heavy trudging footsteps began emanating from the TV and a man clad in a mechanics jumpsuit entered the room. A ski mask adorned his head, but I could still see the glint of his teeth as he circled the bed methodically, occasionally grinning up at the unseen camera. He put a booted foot on the mattress and stood atop the bed, towering over the woman for a moment before sinking to his knees and straddling her waist. 

The camera zoomed in on her face as he gripped her cheeks with a gloved hand and craned her neck from side to side, examining her. His other hand reached inside the jumpsuit and produced a pair of rusted angle head pliers, still slick with grease. The woman struggled against the man attempting to force her mouth open. She bit upon the gloved fingers to avail. Eventually the man parted her jaw wide enough to slip in the pliers. The camera angle shifted focusing directly into the woman’s mouth so I could see the ridged jaws slip around her back molar. 

The man paused for a moment and the room stood in dead silence. Then he started pulling, and the woman started screaming. Over the din, I could hear the sickening schluuuck of the woman’s molar being forcefully separated from its root and slopping over bloody gum tissue until it fully pulled free with a wet pop. My insides knotted and churned. I was going to be sick, but this was only the beginning.  The man gently set the molar on the side of the bed then in the pliers went again. One by one, he methodically removed each tooth, save for the two central incisors. Agonizing wails filled my apartment. I tried to silence it but the TV was playing of its own accord. I was forced to bear witness to what I was sure was a snuff film. If my neighbors were home they were bound to be calling the police. 

He repeated the process with the bottom row. Slowly and steadily, the camera angle ever shifting to capture a close up of each and every tooth being yanked free. The screaming grew wet as the woman’s mouth filled with the blood from her open sockets. 

When only the two front teeth remained, the man set the pliers aside. He paused for a moment to smile again with his own pearly whites then pressed a large thumb against the two remaining teeth. The woman’s screams grew fever pitched as the man pressed inward with all his might against the pair of incisors. His arm was shaking with exertion when they finally tore free with a snap, ripping their way through the wall of the woman’s front gums as they were uprooted. 

The man threw the teeth onto the pile and climbed off the woman. Her head hung to the side and blood pooled from her mouth. The screams now reduced to a gurgle. Her eyes looked hollow. He withdrew a knife from within the jumpsuit and cut the restrains around her wrists. Sitting beside her he yanked her upright. Bloody drool leaked from the sides of her lips as her squeezed her cheeks.

They sat together now, side by side,  and the camera zoomed in on the pair of faces. The man slowly tore away the mask and my eyes grew wide. It was me. He grinned again, and I saw the chipped tooth that mirrored my own. The hair, the eyes, the nose, even the damn freckles. Everything matched. I stared back at myself in disbelief. He…I…leaned in close. The woman’s cheeks were still locked in his grasp and he gave them a shake. The camera shifted again so only her face filled the frame. Her eyes had grown bloodshot from the tears and her cheeks were flushed. The woman spit up a wad of blood and through swollen gums babbled.

“Do you…do you…want to ruin me again?”

The drab grey pop up window blipped to life over her face. It was blank save for the two options: 

“Yes” 

“No”

I thrust my fist into the TV screen 

No.

No. 

No. 

No. 

Over and over I hit the word, but the screen never changed. In the corner of the box a timer began to count down.

10…9…8

I punched the screen frantically, beating my fist into glass till it cracked and bit into my flesh. Rivulets of blood dotted my knuckles as I pounded the ‘No’ button again and again, but it wouldn’t accept the damn input.

3…2…1

The screen blacked out right before the timer hit zero.

I’ve pretty much purged my life of technology since that day, save for my phone. I’m still trying to get in contact with my girlfriend to explain, to somehow make it up to her, but she ignores my calls. I miss her.

Last night I awoke to my phone buzzing, I groggily sat up to find a missed call and a voicemail from Monica. I put the phone to my ear and my blood ran cold as the message played.

“Ethan, I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing, but it’s gotta stop. I know you’ve been coming by my parents at night. We’ve seen you in the driveway. I’m sure  you think you’re being clever, but I can tell it’s you under that mask.”