It became a matter for debate, later on, who the first to suggest the arrangement was. I had been the one to ask if there was any way to persuade him to keep my secret. He had been the one, however, to jokingly suggest sex slavery. I knew he was joking when he said it, but I also knew there was a grain of truth in that request. In the long awkward moment that followed, both of us avoided looking at each other. We knew the stakes. Knew I would do almost anything to avoid being deported. If he was discovered keeping my secret, he would likely face jail himself. It was a risk I couldn't ask him to take without recompense, but I had nothing of value to offer. Nothing but myself.
The thought turned my stomach and made my knees weak, but it might be my only recourse. Could I do it? In that silence that stretched on and on, I saw my fate if I were sent back to China. I had forged a Green Card from my student Visa. America would deport me. China, likely, would imprison me. My family would be shamed, and my life would be forever ruined. Could I become a sex slave to this man to save myself? I realized in that moment, that I could.
But would he accept it?
My eyes finally met his. He must have seen the resolve in my eyes, for his eyes widened, his face flushing. I had to ask him. I had to hear him say it. Would he accept me, my body, to keep the secret?
After a long moment, he asked the question: Under what terms?
And so we discussed it. It was a horrible, terrifying thing. Yet, we discussed it like a business transaction. I was sick inside, but I knew this was the only way. I hoped he would go through with it. I needed him to go through with it.
He already had a vasectomy several years ago, so there was no danger of conception. We were both clean. I hadn't had sex in almost a year. He'd been celibate since his wife died 3 years ago. In order to both stay clean, we'd restrict ourselves to each other. He couldn't interfere with my school-work or class schedule, but all of my free time was open to him. Most terrifying, I agreed to refuse him nothing. I would do anything he wanted me to, and I would let him do anything to me.
In return, he would never tell anyone about the things I accidentally emailed him with my final project. I had kept the digital documents I doctored, in case I needed them. I hid them by labeling them as a project. I never thought I, in a sleep deprived stupor, would accidentally attach them instead of my actual project.
Now, my foolishness had led me to this.
With the details concluded, neither of us spoke. I was sickened at what I had done, but grateful he had accepted. I held him blameless in this, it was my mistake that brought this upon me. I was thankful he wasn't more self-righteous. Thankful, I had a body that could entice a man like him. Thankful his long span of celibacy had made him more amenable to the agreement that still turned my stomach.
I could tell by his breathing that he was aroused, perhaps painfully so, but he was still hesitant about the agreement. I had to seal the deal. I had to make sure he was on board. That meant giving him more incentive.
"Would... would you like me to start now?" I asked, breathless. We were in his living room. He hadn't wanted to discuss the files I sent him on campus.
For a long moment, he didn't reply. Then, in a strangled voice, he simply said, "yes."
