Revenge Porn Survivor

A woman refuses to be shamed, humiliated, or defeated.

Note - This story is about events that occurred before there were laws against revenge porn. All characters are over eighteen.

^^^

"Becca, I think I just saw a picture of your vagina."

Those were the words my brother said to me as I entered our parent's house around two in the morning. He was sitting on the family room couch watching television. He looked nervous and in distress. I'd been out drinking and dancing with my BFFs celebrating my recent twenty-first birthday and the fact that I was newly single, having broken up with my cheating and controlling boyfriend.

He ruined my nice buzz. "What are you talking about?" I responded angrily. "Have you been spying on me? I've seen you looking down my shirt, you perv."

I took off my strappy heels, lost my balance, and had to lean against the front door to keep from falling.

"How the hell would you recognize my pussy?" I asked.

"Because your name, address, and phone number were included in the post."

"What?"

Danny's hands shook as he opened the laptop that was sitting on the coffee table. His face was bright red as he motioned for me to come over. I sat beside him on the sofa as he typed and said, "There are websites where people post pictures of their wives and girlfriends naked or having sex."

"Yeah. I know about porn. So what's that have to do with me?"

"There's a section where guys post pictures of their exes. I was looking at them and came across this picture with your details."

Up popped a close-up picture of a shaved vagina. I studied it and compared it to the one I saw last year when a bunch of my girlfriends and I got drunk and had anOur Bodies, Ourselves moment. We got naked, squatted over a mirror, and looked at our pussies.

The image before me could be mine. I'm usually shaved, and as with my pussy, the inner and outer lips in the picture were the same lengths. The labia majora were separated making the darker, thinner, inner lips visible. That's how my sex is designed.

I gulped. It was my vagina! I knew it!

I didn't recognize it from the shape of my lips, the size of my clit, or the color, but because I saw two small cuts on the right outer lip. I winced recalling a night a year ago when in a delirious state brought on by alcohol, lust, and the mistaken belief that I had found the love of my life, I allowed Tommy Flowers to take pictures of me naked and video us having sex.

I remember being giddy as I rushed to the bathroom in his house to prepare for my photoshoot. Tommy probably thought I was going to check my makeup and hair. I did that, but it had been more than a week since I'd shaved down there and I wanted to tidy up. I found his razor and shaving cream and got to work cleaning the stubble from my pussy. I nicked myself. Twice. What were the chances another woman had two cuts in the same place?

I was stunned. I'm sure the color drained from my face as I turned, slack-jawed, to look at my brother. I found him looking at the picture.My picture!

I punched him on the shoulder and shouted, "Stop looking at my pussy!"

"Ouch," he cried out. He rubbed his shoulder and added in a softer tone, "So it is you? How did this happen?"

"I didn't post the fucking picture!"

I took a deep breath and told him the story and why I thought it was me.

^^^Flashback^^^

"Drink up, Becca," Tommy said. He was holding a bottle of champagne. "There's enough bubbly for one more glass."

She downed the drink, giggled, and said, "I love champagne!" She held out her empty glass and he filled it.

"Yes. It has magical bubbles."

Becca was with her boyfriend. They were drinking champagne and making out on his parents' family room sofa, celebrating their one-year anniversary, and the fact that they had the house to themselves. His mother and father had left thirty minutes ago to attend the wedding of the son of some good friends and they wouldn't be back until tomorrow afternoon.

"Babe, you're so beautiful," Tommy said. "I want to take some photographs of you."

"Okay," she said. She took a pocket mirror out of her purse and looked at her face. "Shall we do it here?"

Becca bounded off the couch and said, "It's a bright sunny day. We should take the pictures outside in your mother's rose garden." She looked down at her black and white top, licked her fingers, rubbed her right boob, and asked, "Is there a stain on my shirt where I dripped guacamole dip? It landed on the black portion of my shirt. I don't think it's noticeable."

Tommy laughed and said, "I'm not talking about ordinary photos. I'm talking about hot, sexy, naked pictures of my hot, sexy, girlfriend. And a video of us doing it!"

"I'm hot and sexy?"

"YES! Very."

"I don't know," she equivocated.

"You can trust me. They will be just for us. Did I tell you how beautiful you are and how much I love you? It'll be fun."

"You won't show them to anyone?"

"No. Never. They're for personal use when we're apart to remind me of what a lucky guy I am to have such a sexy, beautiful girlfriend and for us to share when we're together to stoke the fire and get us amped up before we have sex."

"Okay. I need a minute to get ready."

"You know where the bathroom is. I'll get things ready and meet you in my bedroom."

Becca giggled excitedly, hurried into the bathroom, and checked her face in the mirror. "My makeup is okay. My hair's in a braid. No issues there. I need to pee." She used the toilet. As she wiped, she felt stubble. She flushed, spread her legs, and looked at her pussy. "It's been more than a week since I've shaved. I should tidy up."

She stepped out of her shorts and underwear and washed her hands. She opened the medicine cabinet and said, "That's what I need. Tommy's razor and shaving cream." She put a foot on the edge of the tub, sprayed the foamy shaving cream on her hand, and applied it to her pussy.

She wet the blade and shaved rinsing it periodically.

"Ow! Fuck! That hurt," she cried out when she nicked herself. She rinsed the blade and ran her fingers along her right labia and said, "Good. It's not bleeding. A few more hairs to remove and I'm done."

She reapplied the cream and shaved the area.

"Fuck! I cut myself again! Unbelievable."

She splashed water on her pussy and applied pressure to stop the bleeding. Then, she rinsed the razor and put it and the shaving cream in the cabinet. She checked her pussy one more time to make sure the bleeding had stopped. It had, so she got dressed and left.

"There's my beautiful girl," Tommy gushed when she entered his room. He had prepared the room by bringing in extra lights and tidying up. The bedspread and sheet were neatly pulled down and folded. There were extra pillows on the bed.

Tommy played the part of a fashion photographer. He used his phone to take lots of pictures, constantly complimenting her, and giving her direction.

"Smile. Chin up. Turn to the left. To the right. Look over your shoulder at me. Now jump!"

Becca laughed, made faces, and stuck out her tongue as she clowned around and had fun.

"Unbutton your shirt," he requested. She did. "Slower. Smile. Great."

He took a series of pictures of her getting undressed. Before she knew it, she was nude.

"Stand facing the wall, turn partially, and look over your shoulder and smile."

She followed his instructions. "Great. Push your butt out. Perfect."

"Now face me, cup your breasts, and offer them to me." She did with a big smile on her face.

"Bring a tit to your mouth and lick your nipple. Yes. That's so hot. Suck it. Great!"

"Turn around, bend at the hips, and look at me." She did. He took a picture. "Now reach back and spread your ass cheeks." She did. The next picture showed her asshole, cunt, and smiling face. "Oh, that's so nasty!" Becca said and laughed.

Tommy quickly undressed. His dick was as hard as it had ever been. It was a decent length, but it lacked girth. He said, "Come. Kneel in front of me."

She did and playfully squeezed his penis. He took pictures of her admiring his dick, his dick touching her cheek, laying on her nose, with the tip barely in her mouth, and with as much of it as she could comfortably fit in her mouth.

"Get on the bed, Sexy." He took pictures of her in various positions. "Great! Wonderful! Now spread your legs."

"Wait. That's too much," she protested.

"Silly girl, I'm going to lick your pussy."

"Oh. Okay." She spread her legs. He put his phone down, climbed on the bed, and dove between her thighs. He ate her good and didn't stop until she screamed and orgasmed.

"Oh, God. Oh. Oh! OH!"

He grabbed his phone and took a picture of her semi-conscious, lost in her bliss. He pushed her legs apart and sneakily took a close-up photo of her pussy.

"Did you take a picture of my vagina?"

"Yes. It's beautiful. Shiny from your juice."

"Let me see it," she said. He handed her the phone, she looked briefly, and said, "Why would you want that? It's not very pretty. It looks like something out of a medical textbook."

"It's you. It's beautiful."

"If you say so."

"Touch yourself."

"What?"

"Play with yourself. Rub your clit."

She laughed and asked, "Where do you get these ideas?" She humored him and rubbed her button. He took pictures. Then he stuck a finger inside her. More pictures. He said, "One more." He pulled his finger out of her pussy and pushed it into her ass.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

"It'll make for a great picture. Touch yourself. Yes. Like that. Okay. I got it."

He got on his knees in between her legs. He took pictures of his slim penis touching her labia, with just the tip inside her, and all of it in her. "Wow. These are so hot," he said.

"Mmm," she moaned. "It feels nice to have you inside me."

"Yes. It does." He got on top of her and they kissed. He pulled out.

"Why'd you do that? Fuck me," she pleaded.

"I will. Let me get the phone set up." He got out of bed, grabbed a tripod from his closet, and had it hold his phone at the foot of the bed. He checked the alignment, raised it, and checked it again. Satisfied, he turned it on video mode and climbed on the bed.

"Now, it's time for the piece de resistance," he said with a bad French accent. "Our sex tape. Move aside and let me lay in the middle of the bed. You get on top and ride me."

"Okay," Becca said and giggled. She straddled him, guided his dick inside her, and, with her bottom facing the camera, they fucked. He kissed her and sucked on her boobs.

"Oh. Nice," she murmured.

"Yes. Now switch to reverse cowgirl."

She did and teased, "You love my ass, don't you?"

"I do and I love seeing my dick disappear inside you."

They fucked like this for a few minutes. Tommy grabbed her braided hair and pulled. She moaned. He slapped her ass. She moaned and said, "Slap my ass. Fuck me. Give it to me good."

After a minute of slamming her ass down on his cock, Tommy said, "Time for the big finish. I want you to get on your feet, squat over me, and bounce up and down on my cock until you come. Stay facing the phone."

She did what he asked. She rapidly bounced up and down on his dick. He held her hips and she put her hands on his thighs to maintain her balance. She howled like a banshee during the build-up. When she climaxed, her body froze, and she had a weird expression on her face. Tommy shot his load inside her and seconds later, she toppled over.

Tommy crawled out from under her and stopped the video.

^^^

When I finished the tale, my brother's phone beeped. Someone had sent him a message. It beeped a second time. He picked up the phone, opened the first message and we saw me naked laying on my back. I was masturbating and Tommy's finger was in my ass.

Neither of us spoke. He opened the second message. It was a photo of me kneeling in front of Tommy. I was nude and sucking his dick. My eyes sparkled as I gazed up at him. I looked so happy, so in love.

He put the phone down and said, "I asked the website to send me all updates and additional photos to clarify it was you. I'm sorry Tommy did this to you."

"That motherfucker!" I stood and stomped around the room. I was furious.

Danny's phone buzzed again and again and again. He picked it up, looked at a couple, and said nothing as he opened another window on the computer. My eighteen-year-old brother said, "Becca, I'm guessing you didn't put a nude butt pic of yourself on your Facebook account."

"No!"

I rushed over and looked at the computer screen. There was my Facebook page. It had a new profile picture in which I was nude, looking over my shoulder, and presenting my round, plump butt to the photographer and now the world. A long, thick, black braid ran down the middle of my back and my version of a sexy, sultry smile was plastered on my face.

"Ahh!" I screamed. "That bastard! I break up with him because he cheated on me and he does this? I feel so violated!"

"Sis, I'm afraid it's worse. Not only did he put that photo on your Facebook page for all to see, but he got into your contacts and sent them a message directing them to a Photobucket account. I think we know what's there."

I sat beside Danny as he followed the link sent to him. On the first page, we saw the four compromising photos we'd already seen. I clicked on page two and saw more naked pics. Me, holding my tits. Me, sucking my nipple. Me, bent over, spreading my ass cheeks and exposing my pussy and asshole. And lastly, me laying in a bed all dreamy-eyed, my knees up, my legs spread, and the tip of Tommy's dick in my pussy.

I put my finger on Danny's computer's touchpad, selected the video, and made it play. We heard heavy breathing, groaning, and moaning as we saw a woman riding a man. That could be me.

The video started with a rear view of a young woman on her knees straddling a pair of hairy legs while slamming her ass down on a skinny cock. The film had been edited and in the next portion, we got a frontal view of the woman riding the man reverse cowgirl style. Oh God! There was no doubt it was me. There was my face! That was my voice groaning, moaning, and asking the guy to slap my ass and to give it to me good. I watched my boobs carom, shake, and quiver; I cried.

It got worse. I raised to a squatting position and rapidly and repeatedly impaled myself on Tommy's cock. I bounced up and down, moaning and groaning until I froze, screwed up my face, and orgasmed.

I said in a numb, monotone voice, "The pictures were carefully selected and the video edited so no one ever sees Tommy's face. He's unidentifiable and I'm a sex-crazed slut. All my friends will see these. My workmates and my family too!"

I sobbed. Danny said, "I'm so sorry." I needed to be comforted. I turned to my brother, put my arms around his neck, and my head on his shoulder. He hugged me while I broke down.

I cried my eyes out wondering what my families and friends would say after they saw these disturbing, intimate pictures of me. How many would be disgusted? How many would be excited?

This was the worst moment of my life and when my quiet, happy, peaceful world was shattered. I dreaded the coming morn.

Danny did his best to limit the damage and my embarrassment while I drank a large glass of whiskey I stole from my parents' liquor cabinet.

"Sis, I've gotten some of the photos deleted. Facebook has a hacked accounts section in their help center. I explained the situation and they've disabled your account. They sent you an email explaining how you can regain control of your account."

"Thanks."

"Photobucket has stopped giving people access to your stuff. I've contacted the porn site where I saw your ... the picture. They haven't responded or taken it down."

"That's a start," I said.

^^^

Five hours later, I woke up face down in my bed still wearing my clubbing clothes when my mother barged into my room and shouted, "Get up, Becca. It's a bright, beautiful Sunday morning!"

"Ahh. I can't go to church today. I'm sick."

"No, you're not. You're hungover. Today is a special day. Hurry and get ready. I let you sleep as long as I could. The bishop will be there as part of the celebration recognizing the founding of the church two hundred and fifty years ago by your great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather."

I didn't argue. I knew it was pointless. I showered, put on clean underwear, dressed in one of my Sunday outfits, and went to church and the luncheon celebration that followed. I swear some of the men, old as well as young, looked at me differently than they did last Sunday. Some sneered, some smiled creepily, and another appeared to be disappointed with me. I heard some of these male parishioners whispering and laughing. This behavior abruptly stopped when I looked their way. I wondered had they seen the pictures and videos?

The afternoon event was tarnished when a fight broke out between Danny and one of his classmates. My brother is not big or strong and he didn't fare well. He got a few bruises, a fat lip, and a lecture about good Christian behavior from Mom and Dad which includes not fighting in God's house. I was sure he was defending my honor.

When we returned home, I looked in the living room for my phone, but couldn't find it. My mother and father were walking out the door to go grocery shopping. I asked if they'd seen my phone. My mother replied that she hadn't seen it, but when she tidied up she put my shoes and purse in my room.

Before I had a chance to go look in my purse, the doorbell rang. My parents opened the door, let my BFF in, and went on their errand. Gwen came rushing in and said, "Becca, why didn't you answer your phone? I've been calling all morning!" She came up to me, hugged me, and said, "I saw the photos. You poor dear!"

"I feel horrible," I said as I cried. "I feel used, demeaned, ashamed, and stupid. I did everything for Tommy and I never complained about his skinny dick. Our break-up was his fault. He cheated on me!"

"The bastard!"

"Asshole!"

I pushed her away, looked into her face, and asked, "Wait. How did you see the photos? The sites where they were posted were frozen at three o'clock in the morning."

"I didn't see them on a site. They were sent to my phone."

Danny rushed into the living room holding his phone up. He said, "Becca, Tommy must have kept a copy of your Facebook contacts. This morning while we were at church, he sent out a mass email with the pictures in compressed files. I thought I stopped the distribution, but everyone has them now."

I was stunned. My throat constricted and I couldn't breathe.

Things went from bad to worse as my parents walked in moments later holding their phones. They had grim, serious looks on their faces. My mom said, "Becca, we need to talk."

"Oh, God!" I screamed, ran to my bedroom, and closed the door.

My mother followed, knocked, and came in without waiting for an invitation. I was sobbing curled up in the fetal position on my bed with my back to the door. She sat beside me, patted my head, and asked, "Your father and I were shocked to receive naked pictures of our daughter. What's going on?"

"Tommy Flowers is ruining my life. He sent those pictures."

My mom knew I had had a serious and sexual relationship with Tommy. I had asked her things like 'How do you know you're in love' and she took me to the doctor to get birth control. She didn't lecture me. She asked that I be careful, safe, and smart.

I explained without going into graphic detail how the pictures came about, that I had trusted Tommy, and wanted to please him so I posed for the shots. I explained we broke up after he cheated on me. She remembered that weepy, ice cream binging period when I secluded myself in my bedroom.

"What Tommy did isn't right. Get up, wash your face, we're going to the police," my mom said with conviction.