Chapter 13: Epilogue

Tonight I woke up rudely and sweaty. I had a nightmare; I couldn’t move, I couldn’t scream, and I was locked up somewhere I couldn’t get out of.

I couldn’t get back to sleep, and my head went back to that night when I couldn’t sleep, and I spent it going over the whole year that had passed since Ahmed came into our lives. I have been remembering what happened next.

The day I had to go to the office to apply for my leave, Aisha got up and went to wake Ahmed up by sucking his cock, as she had had to do for most of the year. The day before Ahmed had reminded her that, although her pussy was ‘untouchable’, he expected her to wake him and his brother up by sucking his cock, as had been ‘customary’, and that they wanted to enjoy it these last few days. I watched as she went to Ahmed’s room, climbed onto the bed, pulled back the sheets, grabbed his cock with her hands, and started sucking and licking it. I cursed the omnipresent fucking cameras that were there to annoy me by showing me what I’d rather not see and instead served no other purpose.

I thought I would like to see, among other things, where Ahmed kept the videos he took of us or any evidence he might have against us. After the whole year and the way our future was looking, I was so desperate that I would gladly kill him, but he had said at the beginning that if anything happened to him, the evidence would get into other hands. I remembered a conversation with his brother when he was prostituting Aisha, where he talked about how he was blackmailing some of the clients and that, to avoid being killed, he had everything stored in a place from where it would be sent to the public Religious Police if he didn’t log on daily.

Connecting the dots, I associated this daily connection with the camera images I had seen of the room when he was alone. He activated his mobile phone and logged on to some application or website every day at the same time, before going to bed. Unfortunately, he did this sitting on the bed, and, from the camera showing me the bed, I could not see where or with what identity. I wish the camera was in a different position and would show that data, not what it showed. If it did, I could log on and delete the compromising information or try something. He could still threaten us or report us, but his power over us would not be as strong.

Suddenly, it dawned on me: Why not install MYSELF a camera and spy on him? Maybe I could find out something. With that thought in my head, I got up in a much better mood and went to the office to apply for leave from work. I couldn’t leave the office building, as, in addition to having the chastity belt monitoring and the mobile phone to locate me, Hassan had brought me and was waiting to take me back. These days we were not left alone and there was always one of the two brothers with each of us in case we tried to escape in desperation and despite the threat of reprisals on the other.

However, I remembered that there was a fellow enthusiast of all kinds of gadgets; the more rare or miniaturised, the better. I spoke to him, and, sure enough, he had a small camera that could be connected to the computer. I borrowed it from him, set it up to connect to my laptop, and, when I saw the image from the camera transmitted to my PC, I couldn’t help but squeal with delight.

I started the HR process and spent the day telling my replacement the details and functions of my job.

That evening, when I returned home, with the excuse that I had to look for some papers (contract, work permit, etc.) that were in the master bedroom, I went to the bedroom and installed the camera near the ceiling, hidden behind a lamp and pointing right at the spot where Ahmed used to sit for his daily connection. I programmed the camera to record and send the content to my PC.

The next day, while Ahmed was taking Aisha to the consulate to apply for the permanent visa, so that Hassan would not suspect or interrupt me, I explained to him that I had to continue finishing off tasks from my office work and switched on the PC. There were, in full clarity and high resolution, images of Ahmed connecting to a website and entering his username and password. I connected to the same website with his username and password and started to check what was on it.

Basically, it was a virtual disc where he had created folders for each of the people he was extorting. It had a small file on each one describing who they were, what they did, and how to blackmail them. In the folder, he also had compromising photos, videos, or documents.

In addition, he had some automatic tasks set up, such as sending copies to e-mail addresses the next day. That must have been the system he used for protection. He had to change the posting date every day to the next day, or maybe a few days later if he planned to be travelling or offline. If something happened to him, he would not be able to change the date, and the post would go out, compromising all of us in that system.

The first thing I did after assessing what was there was to create an account on the same website and launch a full copy of all his documents and folders. Then I started going through our folder, where there were the videos he took of us on the first day, whether eating pork and drinking alcohol or watching forbidden films or naked in bed, as well as pictures of the drugs he had put in our drawer. I thought about deleting them, but then reflected that he could always accuse us or even take us by force to the Princess. The only solution was for someone to “control” or “disable” the threat posed by Ahmed.

I started going through other folders. In them I found videos taken of Aisha with some of the clients, as well as other types of compromising documents and images for the victims of her blackmail.

In one of the files describing each of the blackmail victims, I found that one of the blackmailed victims was a drug dealer. Given his type of activity, he didn’t look to me like someone who could be ‘played’. I decided that he could be the key that would allow us to escape. Someone as violent and unscrupulous as Ahmed.

I couldn’t call him on my phone, controlled by Ahmed, but the next day, in the office, I called him (his file contained all his contact details). I told him that I could get rid of Ahmed as long as, in return, he helped us get rid of Ahmed too. I explained that I knew how to prevent the compromising information from being published, even if something happened to Ahmed. The only condition was that it had to be done the same day or the next day; otherwise, I would no longer be able to do anything or have access to Ahmed’s information. I gave him the address where he could find us and Ahmed. As proof that I had access to his information, I sent him some images and videos from the folder Ahmed had on him.

That night I didn’t say anything to Aisha, as I wasn’t sure I would get help from that man, and I didn’t want to raise false hopes. We stayed up all night talking and hugging. We only had that night and the next to be together.

The next day, both Aisha and I had almost all the paperwork done to make our stay in the country permanent and our future lives a continuous hell.