[drhyde79]

Chapter 69: Tormented Past, Tormented Present

She tried.

She really did.

That traumatizing event was different after all. It had completely crushed her. It had crushed her self-confidence. Her carefully constructed facade of a model. Her identify as a wife. A woman. It had left her feeling utterly disgusted to be in her own sullied body. She barely even felt like a living thing with thoughts and emotions anymore and had been regularly contemplating suicide ever since that night.

It would be so… simple to do that. After all, she had the means to end her own life and escape this living hell, and it’s only a matter of time before she had the opportunity. The nurses and doctor cannot watch her all the time after all. Even Alexei, her dear sweet Alexei, would be powerless to stop her.

But she would not, no, she could not do such a thing. The desire to live stayed her hand. The biological drive to survive led her to sleep, eat and drink whenever possible. The irresistible urge to cling onto her fragile existence with all her might was something that had been thoroughly ingrained in her mind and body. She wanted to live. And if there’s one thing this tortured woman could have learnt from her past, it was how to survive.

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She could still recall how innocent and trusting she once was.

It took only two weeks before she became conscious of his eyes on her rump that was snugly moulded by her tennis shorts. She had thought that she knew men and she knew that the young student's eyes were exploring her body as he carried the large bag of groceries.

She juggled the bag of groceries she was holding on to her left arm as she unlocked the door. She liked to look sexy, knowing she had a figure men liked looking at. And Hohiro, her boyfriend, liked her to dress sexily. The little pervert was almost embarrassingly proud of her heart-stopping appearance.

Like many young women, Vicky had welcomed the eyes of men on her. Especially her boyfriend’s. She held the door open, glad to be out of the glaring sun, and let Hohiro into the cramped kitchen.

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It was her first taste of freedom. An escape from the stifling pressure cooker of the Singapore Education System. A break from the need to equip herself to chase after the 5Cs.

She has always wanted to live and study in Japan, and when the opportunity came, she took it. An exchange programme with one of NUS’s partners in Tokyo for the semester.

She has met Hohiro on the first day at school. Sweet and caring Hohiro. Lovely and attentive Hohiro. She was young, and love was still innocent and pure, and two weeks later, he had worked his way into her heart.

Afterwards, she had never figured out whether Hohiro was just a plant, or was part of the plot. She had thought about it, of course, but she had never bothered to find out after she had left. It was the single most tormented interlude of her university life. Her time with Hohiro was the one brief chapter in her life she wished she could erase.

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Three weeks into living together, Hohiro had claimed that he had to attend to a family emergency. At first, she did not think much of it. But when he returned with his pretty face not so pretty no more. Things started to change.

It had been little things at the start. And she was still young then. So naive and so blindly trusting. She had believed his words, and he gradually led her down into hell.

At the beginning, he had said he had to make money. His family business had failed and he had to help pay off the tremendous debts his father had incurred. He had to make ends meet he had said.

Slowly, he said that he needed help. He told her that the money is easy. He told her that there was nothing to be afraid of, that many girls are doing the same thing. That this was part of Japanese culture. Everything would end soon he had said. She is still the only one he would love.

And when the end came, he had said that she will do what she was told to do. He said that she belongs to him, and that his words are to be obeyed.

There was so much he had said. And some of it was even true.

The money was good, but she saw hardly any of it. It was always used to pay off his family’s ‘debts’, or used to ‘make ends meet’.

It was part of Japanese culture, it’s dark underbelly. Many Japanese girls were doing it. She was told often that some Japanese girls were even doing it for free, if they meet someone they like. That, at least, was never a problem she ever had. She was always getting paid.

A lot of men's eyes had seen her body. They had let their lust-filled eyes rove over her nakedness, and she had let them do things to her sweet young flesh. Oh, the things she had let them do to her body!

A rare few had been really good. They tried to pleasure her, to make the dirty deed fun for the both of them. Most had just used her for their selfish animal pleasure. Using her body as a flesh sleeve to jerk off. The young ones were often unpredictable, cruel and kind, gentle and rough in equal measure. The old ones are worse, perverse and generous, cruel and loving. Then, there were her regulars. She could remember some of them even now. The wrinkled kindly old gnome who just want to cuddle and have his shrunken dick stroked. The stout baldy who only ever wanted her on all fours so he can do her from behind. The straight-laced businessman who demanded her abuse, to sit on his face, suffocating him with her pussy until he cums. The memories were so sharp and keen she could almost feel their penises gliding in and out of her pussy, their grimy hands gripping her waist and hauling her body back, the smooth cheeks of her ass pounded by hairy bellies as they fucked her.

It was two months of hell. Two months when she led a double life, university student by day, hostess by night.

She wasn't ashamed that she was used. It hadn't been so bad, she had told herself. She was doing it all for Hohiro, and his dad, and his family.

She was so caught up in the web that he spun that she was even considering extending her stay, taking a leave of absence from school until she could repay Hohiro’s debts.

But all these changed the night she met Alexei.

The madam had wanted her to entertain the gaijin. Perhaps she had thought that his Russkie weapon would permanently damage her delicate little Japanese flowers and therefore sent her, another gaijin, to take the brunt of his assault. It was an ironic twist of karma that madam mamasan became their matchmaker instead.

The tall, imposingly muscled Russian with gentle eyes was nothing like the sleazy Japanese men she had to deal with all the time. He had listened to her, and teased out her story gently, without any judgement. And when they were finally alone, he did not do anything, but simply listened to her. The sincerity and concern in his baby blue eyes finally convinced her, and her trust was not misplaced. He had ended up escorting her all the way to the Singapore Embassy to seek help.

She went back to her little rented apartment afterwards to pack her stuff, accompanied by the embassy staff. To her surprise, Hohiro was not there.

But Alexei was.

And he was there again years later in Singapore to give his vow of eternal commitment.

Just like how he had been always by her side ever since.