I'm reclining on my side, caressing my swollen stomach with one hand, and scrolling through the live chat feed with the other, my wedding ring visible to the camera. All I'm wearing is a black lace bra, a black thong, and a see-through babydoll over my heavily pregnant body.
I'm eight and a half months pregnant and due in the next two or three weeks. If the increasingly restless kicking is anything to go by, the baby wants to be out of my body sooner rather than later, and I agree. But I have a feeling the due date won't be any more accurate than the others.
What a wild and surreal six months it's been since I escaped with my three young children and a fourth baby growing in my belly. But my insane escape plan had succeeded spectacularly, and I couldn't be happier with my new life.
By the time my husband had recovered from having his nuts tasered, we were long gone. By the time he discovered that I had wiped the computer with a factory reset, I had already reached my parents' house and started setting up my new life.
The raw porn footage. The master copies of the published porn films. Thousands of still photos from the footage. The copyright licensing and media distribution agreements. The bank account information and legal documentation of the one-man holding company. Everything had been stored on that one computer and backed up to a cloud account.
Once I had the password for the cloud account, I changed it along with all the account recovery information. Having deleted everything on the computer, I now have full control of everything. I basically stole my husband's porn business out from under his big ugly nose -- a poetically apt revenge for having me raped and turning it into smut for profit.
Was it really that simple? Of course not. But I gained control over the corporate bank account used by the porn business, and hired the best lawyer my newly acquired money could buy to sort out all the corporate legal details.
You see, the blackmail threat that my husband held over me was never about exposing me as a porn star online or as a cheating slut who had cuckolded her husband. All that stuff is already all over the internet, and I risk being 'exposed' every time I show my face in public.
The real threat was that my husband could have dragged me through the courts and truly ruined me. No one would have believed my claims that I was raped at the behest of my husband for porn, and my husband could have easily misrepresented the whole thing as a business dispute between himself and his greedy, horny wife.
I don't want to imagine the vitriol the media would have piled on me.
But now that I have full control of the porn business, I have full control of my internet persona. My husband has no way of proving that I stole it from him without exposing himself to the same media frenzy -- and financial ruination -- that I had faced. I still can't prove to any court that I was raped, let alone that my husband arranged to have me raped, but I don't need to.
The only remaining thing to do was to get a divorce, and the terms were simple: I keep the porn business and the legal rights to everything controlled by the business, and he never comes near me ever again. He also gives up all visitation rights to the children.
As you can imagine, my now ex-husband was furious at being shafted so brutally by his ex-wife, but he ultimately consented to the divorce on my terms. I even lubricated the deal for him by letting him keep the house and the Honda Civic.
The last time I saw him was when I brought a moving company -- and two hired bodyguards -- to the house to collect my belongings and those of the children. That was the most awkward day I've ever spent, and my husband and I hardly spoke or looked at each other throughout the entire process. The moving company stripped the place clean, and I never looked back.
As for my rapist, I gave some of the stolen information to a private investigator who used it to find out his real name. It turns out he's the younger son of a wealthy family who uses his trust fund to indulge his lifestyle. After some back and forth, an agreement was reached to have him stay away from my children and me as well -- and I haven't seen him since, either.
Whether my rapist will honor the agreement and stay away forever remains to be seen, but for now, I couldn't be happier with my new life. The porn business had already raked in millions of dollars in pre-tax profits, and after having my lawyer sort out all the tax affairs, I've got more than enough to support my large and growing family as a single mother.
We live in a penthouse suite, which I had extensively refurbished into a family home. It's well-furnished and secure from intruders -- something I still have erotic nightmares about -- and my two daughters are very happy at their new school, although I have to lie about what it is mommy does for a living. My baby son is healthy and happy, too.
All three children are asleep in their respective beds, and with only two weeks to go until baby number four is due, my bladder is under uncomfortable pressure. I pause the live feed to take a bathroom break before I start my next show.
***
My husband and my rapist had spent a year building the porn business, along with my online persona as an insatiably horny slut who was constantly cheating on her husband. There's no way I can erase that online persona, so I decided to embrace it.
The OnlyFans account rakes in five figures a year. The royalties and residuals from all the porn films released through distributors bring in six figures a year. To this extensive pornographic business empire, I've added another revenue stream: webcamming.
I can earn hundreds of dollars a night from tips in a single webcamming session, and I make even more when I charge for premium sessions. On top of that, it's just so much fun. My former husband whored me out to a man who paid ten thousand dollars for the right to rape me. But I love being a whore in front of the camera, and I'll do it until I retire.
By the time I get back from the bathroom, I'm ready to start the show. I adjust my diamond wedding ring -- which I insisted on keeping during the divorce -- and pull out a ten-inch dildo. It's a special model molded to resemble a real penis, and it's black, perfect for my pale pussy and the theme of tonight's show.
