(Content warning: rough language, sexism, kidnapping)
Politicians feared you, corporate thugs despised you. You were the number one journalist in Jackson City, and the bane of corrupt, entitled men in power.
In your four years with the Jackson City Times, you’d exposed everything from embezzlement and voter fraud, to sexual harassment and rape. The latter was especially important to you as a woman. You knew from your own experiences how powerless it could feel to go up against deep rooted misogyny in society.
In fact, your crusade against sexism had caused quite the backlash. You were accused of being a ‘man-hater’ and a ‘troublemaker’. Your social media would often be bombarded with misogynistic vitriol, and some of your jealous male coworkers referred to you as an “arrogant bitch” behind your back.
It wasn’t fair. But it had given you the thick skin needed to survive in a world dominated by men.
Now, you were about to drop the biggest story of your career:
An exposé on a human trafficking ring and its ties to government officials in Jackson City.
It had all started with an anonymous tip from a woman. She’d escaped her traffickers and wanted to warn the world about those who’d used her for their pleasure. During the interview, several names were dropped, and multiple leads established.
Within two months, you’d compiled a massive database of witnesses, documents, images and financial transactions. With the evidence you had, not even the best lawyers in the world would be able to save their skin if the case made it to court.
There was only one final interview left: A few days earlier, another woman had reached out to you. She too had something to tell. Something about a corrupt businessman who’d forced her into a corporate gangbang.
With her testimony, everything would be complete.
“Hey, I’ve heard your going to publish your big story soon.” It was Frank, your closest colleague. You’d worked together on a few stories over the past four years.
“You heard right,” you sighed. “It’s going to be the biggest story in the city – no, the country. And yet I feel… weird.”
He looked at you, concerned and puzzled. “You can talk to me, you know that, right?”
You really wanted to. You’d suffered in silence for so long that your heart ached for another soul to help you bear your burdens. But you couldn’t. If word got out to the wrong people, it would be over. Only your editor knew about it, and even he wasn’t initiated with most of the details.
“Thanks, Frank. I really mean it. We’ll talk once I’m done with this.”
“… Maybe over a coffee?” He smiled, his eyes full of warmth.
“Sure,” you chuckled. He was sweet. Perfect husband material. One of the few men in your life that had treated you with respect from the very beginning. Once this was done, you would try this ‘workplace romance’ so many people feared.
You made for the parking lot, keys in hand. The woman wanted to meet you in a nearby restaurant.
Just when you were about to unlock your car, several footsteps rushed towards you from the dark. Within seconds, multiple hooded figures were grabbing and pulling your limbs and body. You tried to scream for help, but a big, sturdy hand covered your mouth, muffling your pleas for help. By the time you realized that he was holding a rag over your mouth, it was to late.
“That a girl. A few more deep breaths,” a dark voice whispered into your ear. Your eyes became heavy, your struggles weak and infrequent. You remained tangled with the men for what felt like an eternity, conscious and aware of what was happening to you and yet unable to stop it.
You tried screaming again in a final act of desperation, but all that came out was a faint whimper. Then, darkness.
Your old life was over. You just didn’t know it yet.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/qkmsk6/the_degradation_of_a_journalist