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Memoirs: I was one of the 200 victims of pornography - Part 2

In May 2017, a man who called for "cosplay models wanted" on a fraudulent website and had over 200 women appear in adult videos was arrested by the Osaka Prefectural Police.The criminal obtained 140 million yen in illicit profits from the series of crimes.Meanwhile, he was sentenced to 2 years and 6 months in prison, fined 300,000 yen, and suspended for 5 years. (The prosecution is appealing.)

NPO PAPS is a consultation service for those who are troubled by digital sexual abuse through revenge pornography, sexual voyeurism, gravure and nude photography, and those involved in the adult video industry and sex industry.The women who were victims of this incident have also asked for our help. At their request and with their consent, we asked them to share their experiences of victimization. However, in order to avoid identification of the consultants, the stories are composed of several parts.

I was taken to a hair salon near Umeda Station. My feelings were revived.No, it was subtly different. I was looking for something to revive. That is more correct.

The salon was on the first floor of a building. An antique-style frosted glass door was the entrance. Inside the salon, white plaster walls and blue painted chairs were placed as if to decorate. 
Dried yellow mimosa flowers hung in bouquets on the walls.

The hairdresser said, "Let's give you a fluffy look." and began to apply my makeup. It was like having a professional show me a model of how to apply makeup look like a baby's face. Soft eyebrows, bright eyes, and lips as full as a baby's. 

"Isn't she cute?"

I thought to myself. I knew that having a professional do my face would make a huge difference. I was a little too young to have my dyed black hair put in twin-tails, but I was surprised at how much a professional makeup artist can change a person's face.

When I'm done, that person paid me 15,000 yen in front of me. "Check please, for hair and make-up." As soon as we left the store, he started talking about money.

"It's not easy to market an idol. We can't just go into business and start selling. It costs a lot of money."

Thinking about it, the distance between us was so close that we could not afford to think or hesitate. Even in the elevator, he talked about money. He talked about how much it would cost to make an image video DVD, or how much it would cost to hire salespeople until we got a contract. I felt pressured. He had just paid 15,000 yen in front of me. I also felt a sense of responsibility that didn't want.

In this apartment, there was a six-tatami-mat room that that person called a "cosplay room". Pipe hanger racks were lined up in this small place, and there were cosplays hanging from them that looked like they could be used in a night life business, and were made of stiff fabrics. I almost voiced my disappointment. I had expected something a little more glamorous than a cosplay. But that person repeated as if to imply, like "You're already being invested".

"Don't worry. If you work hard, you can get your expenses back. If you work hard."

Then, one after another, he placed the outfits on my body. Eventually, he said excitedly, "Oh, this is nice." Then he repeated it as if he was convinced by himself.

 

"Yes, it's nice, isn't it? it looks really good on you."

That was a song released last winter, and it looked a lot like the costumes that my idol and the others were wearing. The material was cheesy, but I thought, "It's like her." But If you think about it, that's their M.O. too.

I had often told him how much I liked my idol. He would prepare it systematically and get himself excited when he put this dress on me. I don't know him, but he had a lot of information about me.

"You should go get dressed."
 

I was cheerfully urged to get dressed, and with that costumes in hand, I headed for the bathroom. After getting dressed, I looked in the mirror. There is a girl in the idol group with my idol, who sells a rather slow character, and it's not hard to see the resemblance. Professional makeup is good, after all. I got myself together again. Let's enjoy a day in the life of an idol.

The first shoot was in a park. I imagined a cute studio, but it was not.

I sat on a bench and blew soap bubbles and climbed up a slide for a bit - from an angle that almost showed my underwear. I squatted down and made a gesture of looking for clover. I was afraid I could see this too. In fact, I could see it, I found out later. But I did my best. I was under a lot of pressure because I was told that it cost a lot of money. After the shoot, I was kind of tired. But he was in a good mood.

"Good job, let's go eat something good!"

I wanted to go home as soon as possible, but he took me there quite forcefully. I was taken to a brand new luxury hotel. A doorman was on the porch at the entrance. It was a sight to behold. In one corner of the lobby, there were tables and cat-footed sofas that could be described as furnishings instead of furniture. I looked over to see what it was because of the strong scent, and saw many lilies thrown into a jar in the direction of the scent. It was like a castle.

He crossed the lobby in a familiar manner and led me to the lounge. "It's a nice hotel, isn't it? It's a bit of a walk from the station," he boasted.

It sounds strange, but I felt uneasy in a different way. I felt like I was out of place. I tried my best to follow him. I felt like, what if I got lost in a place like this? I was soaring. Now that I think about it, the only reward I received from that person was this sweets buffet. The price was 4,500 yen, drinks not included.

I am 20 years old now. So I understand how much he was willing to "invest" in me. One of my circle members told me that it is not unusual for a love hotel to charge more than 20,000 yen per night. A high school girl in a regional city where only the "Kodama" bullet train stops. He knew how naive I was.

It was his room from the second shoot. I didn't like it, but I went.

One of the reasons I went there was that he was so annoying on the messages that I lost patience, and the other was - he didn't give me any money. He said he would give me when the third shoot is done. And this was one of the behaviors I was accused of.

 

People said he can't feel sorry for the me because I was after money.

But I put up with things I didn't want to do on the first shoot. We put up with things I didn't want to do in order to get paid. This is work, right? Besides, I felt like the coat I wanted was taken away from me right in front of me.

Being involved in a bizarre incident made me a little more mature. I know that even a 20-year-old is immature, and moreover, a sophomore in high school is a child. I lost my pass case when I was a sophomore in high school. It was during my sophomore year of high school as well. It was a stuffed animal pass case of Shaun the Sheep. A card fits inside the stuffed animal. When I put it on my bag, everyone said it was cute. When I finally found it, Shaun was dirty and gray with dust.

I am old enough to cry and laugh over something as trivial as that.

My family is not very poor, but do you want the same things as everyone else?But don't you want the same things as everyone else? Wouldn't it make you sad if it was taken away in front of you? That's why I went.

It was hard during the shooting, and I wanted to cry.

In the beginning, I was in a high school girl's uniform and could only do light sexy poses, but those poses were gradually required to be more extreme.

I was told to "lick the banana with an sad-looking face."

He tells me to "lift the skirt up," "show me what you're wearing," and "spread your legs."

The demands gradually escalated. Incredible, isn't it? Normally, you would think they would stop there, right? If I were to listen to the story of others, I would agree but I couldn't do it there.

Even as a child, I was never very assertive. I want everything to be done peacefully, or I don't want to get into a fight with the person in front of me. Even if I lose a little, I prefer it if I can avoid conflict.

This is a bit of a digression, but I think that's one of the reasons I was so absorbed in the exchange with him. I talked a lot of things to him, and he always responded with "yes" to everything. "Yes, I think you're right", "you didn't do anything wrong", "you don't have to blame yourself", "you're a good and honest girl". There's no way to cause friction, right? Of course, it's a M.O.

 

The profit that he got from the series of crimes is 140 million yen. Only words don't "cost" anything. Back to the shooting. Eventually, he told me to pull my underwear down to my ankles and lift up my skirt.

He said, "Don't worry, if you do it from the back, all we can see is your butt."

What he said was very shocking. But because of that, my judgment is rather gone. My mind was already blank. I didn't know what I was doing anymore. Eventually, an image was taken of me twirling my own underwear around one leg and lifting the skirt up to show my buttocks.

"Good job!"

I was finally released. I was relieved, but still he would take me to the sweets buffet again. Smiling again and making peace signs. I ate as if it was my duty.

 

This photo was not good for the trial. He said, "You were happily eating cake with the suspect, and you only sued him because the money he got from you was too little." That's how far he read it.

For the third time, I was not going to go on the shoot.

I told him this on a message app, crying in the restroom of the bullet train on the way home. I don't need the money anymore. I told him that too. Uncharacteristically, there was no reply.

But when I accessed Twitter, I found a direct message with a picture. It was the one where she had taken off her swimsuit and was showing her backside.

From this point on, I was completely threatened.

The text said that I would spread the message to all the girls who had connections with me. Finally, that person revealed his true nature. Intimidation turned into threats. If he does that, I won't be able to go to school. My father and mother would have to quit their jobs, we would have to sell this house that we still had a mortgage on, and my brother would have to quit college.

I don't know what to do. At the very least, I hope that his demands are not so terrible. That's all I can think about.

"What are you going to do next?"

"Well, it's a little bit extreme image video, It's erotic." he says. 

I didn't know what "Chaku-ero (Non-nude erotic)" means.

"What is Chaku-ero?"

"it's like when you don't get naked, but you do some nasty poses and stuff."

He sent me the URL of a sample. It was only a few minutes long. Junior idols in swimsuits like I was the other day are taking a shower and laughing. They are all in white swimsuits, so they are all transparent. Then there is a video of them in the middle of washing their bodies.

When I think back on it, it is a very grotesque image. Because the junior idol girl is 16 years old. I was later told by a person from PAPS that the child pornography law in Japan is said to be very lax.

I digress a bit, but I also want to convey the reality of the situation, so I'll just give you a brief glimpse.

In the bathroom, the junior idol is naked. Her nipples and crotch area are hidden by deliberately raised bubbles. Then, with a strangely sexy look on her face, she strokes her body with the palm of her hand. --It is reminiscent of masturbation.

Finally, the bubbles are poured off. Then the camera slowly shows her whole body in close-up. Only the nipples are covered with fingers. Then I cover the shaved female genitalia by placing only one finger over it. Common sense tells us that this is child pornography. But it does not violate the current law.

Back to the story.

I was rather relieved to see such grotesque images. Because of the horror, my bad imagination knows no bounds. So I was relieved.I thought, "I can tolerate this.I had porn in my head. I knew little about it, but I knew that there was sexual intercourse. So, if I could just stroke myself around naked-- I know, it was an abnormal mindset.

It's largely due to the fact that this is my second time shooting and I'm numb to the abnormality of being naked. Gradually increase the degree of endurance and get used to it. This is also their M.O.

"Do you sell them?"

"For enthusiasts, yes. It's a bit of a special route. Even if I sell them, I hardly get any money out of them. At best, I make a little money."

"Really?"

"How much real porn do you think is sold nowadays?"

I didn't know much about porn. This is how we ended up shooting for the third time.

This is the last time. There seemed to be no lie in those words. According to the man, once the images were shown, there would be no more "umami."

It is a very cruel statement, but for me, who was terrified that the situation would escalate further, it is also a comforting statement.

If I shot something like that video, it would be over. The location was his room again, It was a two-bedroom room, with a board room that served as a costume room, kitchen, and a living room.

In the bathroom, I soaked in a bathtub filled with hot water in a bathing suit that barely covered my body. It was see-through, so you could see through it. he was worried about getting the camera wet, so the bathroom shoot was short-lived. I was relieved, but not really; I didn't know that porn is quite long. The video they sent me was about 6 minutes long, so I thought it would be much shorter.

Next, I was in the living room and that guy was stroking my body with oil dripping on me. I have seen this kind of massage in magazines, Indian oil massage. What he was doing, the purpose was totally different, but I was thinking of something like that to distract me.

When his hand slipped inside my bathing suit, I froze with fear. I couldn't move. It was like the death of an insect. If I moved, I would die. I could not even catch my breath. Because I am in a closed room with an adult, evil-looking man.I can't resist. I don't want to be killed. Please don't kill me. Gradually, that's all I could wish for.

Time seemed so long. In fact, maybe it was. After that, that man said to me.

 

"Well then, let's actually do it."

 

He took me to the another room. I had always thought this apartment was a two-bedroom, but in fact it was a three-bedroom. There was another room in the back. The bed was surrounded by cameras and lights. The set was complete.

I did not cry on the spot. I was just looking at the cheap rose-patterned linens and dazed. I think I finally knew this was going to happen. It was too painful to give up, so I ignored it. Planning, production, photography, acting, and sales. He did it all by himself.

 

I thought it was dazzling.

 

The lighting was dazzling.

My memory is skipping after this. It is just like igniting a strong flash and the white out. But one thing I do remember clearly. I, like the other victims, held my ID card next to my face,

"I did the practicals of my own volition."

I was forced to recite, filming doing so.

*

How I got a connection with PAPS, a victim protection group, because I attempted suicide once.

Since then, I have gotten into the habit of cutting my wrist, and when I get frustrated, I just cut it off. Right before I cut my wrist, I get really excited. It only lasts for a moment. When I cut it, it hurts, but I feel relieved. It's a battle against the voice that blames me.

I was bored that day. I had lost interest in everything, and all I could think about was dying. Of course, I had lost interest in my idol too, and it was rather horrifying just to think about her. So, to pass the time, I was tapping my arm with a small knife. (You see, it's not a wrist, it's an arm. Arm.

I was able to quickly slice into the arm, like a squid stab. I was laughing to myself, making silly jokes about how I had improved my arm-cutting skills. It was only when I came to my senses that I realized I was in the midst of madness.

But then I went deeper than I thought I would. It wasn't like blood flowing or gushing. It was more like gushing. I was upset. I was scared of dying, even though I was doing the arm cut. I crawled out into the hallway and called for help.

"Mom! Mom!"

My mom was screaming when she saw me holding my arm. From that point on, it was a mess. I had asked her not to sound the siren when she called the ambulance, but she didn't muffle the siren at all and it came to our house. Someone in the neighborhood who was close to my mother was peering at me as I was being carried away on a stretcher.

It reminded me of the "Wonders of the Human Body" exhibition. The "specimen of the human body" is made by using resin instead of formalin. I did not actually go to see the exhibition, but it was on the news on the internet. People were gazing at the various bodies with a serious look. They looked at the bodies with a mixture of fear and curiosity, forgetting respect for the bodies.
 
I wanted to go there, but never had a chance. But here, in my backyard, there is an exhibition of the wonders of the human body. I am not on the side of the viewer, but on the side of the seen, exposed to the public eye like a plastic model of the human body, with no way to resist.I become a human specimen, not only in the image, but also as a living body.

And since then, my mother cries every day. So I blame yourself. Sometimes she gets angry with me, and sometimes she cries and wants me to tell her what happened.

But I didn't want her to know, and most of all, I didn't want her to know.

I was still in high school, but I was exhausted. Really. I thought about the next way to die, but I was sure I would get scared again at the last minute. I was too tired. I can't stand up anymore.

The counselor at PAPS asked me to tell how I found out about them. I am the same as you. I did a search on my phone. I think I searched for "adult video," "filming," "cosplay model," "consultation," "cheated," etc. I think I also searched for "rape."

But I was scared to call in. I don't know what I was afraid of. I was afraid to confide in someone, maybe. Then someone responded in a panic. I think there were three calls.

I talked while crying. But I was only calling with momentum, so I don't really know what I was talking about. I know it was my fault, and I just kept saying so, and talking without much context, but the counselor kept repeating to me that it is okay.

After we had been talking for a while, the counselor organized the conversation for me and asked me what I was having the most trouble with. I was not clear in my mind what I wanted the consultant to solve. Eventually, some words came out of my mind.

"Mother--"

I cried and cried, unable to say anything else. Eventually, the counselor asked, "What happened to your mother?

"Are you having trouble confiding in your mother, probably?"

I think I said over and over again that my mother is crying, crying, while clutching my phone and nodding my head. Eventually, the counselor decided to explain to my mom on my behalf that porn extortion is now a social problem.And how cowardly it can be done.

When the counselor told my mother about the case, she was crying a lot. And she was angry, not at me, but at that person - defendant A. If I had told her, she would have been angry with me, but the counselor explained in an orderly manner and repeatedly emphasized that it was not my fault. My mother cried for me.

She said she was going to look for a coat, even though it was already spring. It was as if she thought I would die if I didn't have a coat.

It was my consulting with PAPS that led to the arrest of defendant A. The filmed pornography was recovered from that person's room. I heard that he was waiting for it not to become a case, and it was fortunate that he had let it lie for six months.

They told me not to look at it, but I forced myself to ask them to show me just the package. There was an image of a peace sign shown at the buffet for example, alongside another, different image of a peace sign. People do such brutal things to people with impunity. That's what I thought.

Thus, the defendant A was sentenced by the Osaka District Court to three years in prison, suspended for five years with probation, and fined 300,000 yen. This is too light as a sentence. Also the sentence is suspended. When I think about it, I am so frustrated that I cannot sleep.

I am now living my life as a student while going to a psychosomatic clinic. I have a lot of days that I cannot go to school. I may be a year late. However, I have made a few friends. The doctor at the psychosomatic medicine clinic said to me:

"The important thing is not to get used to sleeping alone, but to be able to spend sleepless nights alone."

 

I was pushing him for more sleeping pills, but he says, "No, not any more." Do you know what I mean? I was so angry when he said that. Like, I wanted to yell at him, "Shut up, just give me the sleeping pills. It's none of your business."

But on the way home, I was crying. Tears were falling down. I'm still not sure what the second half means of what he said. But I understand the first half. --Don't get used to loneliness. Maybe that's what the words mean.

"Don't get used to being alone."

Maybe that's what the doctor wanted to say. I probably cried on the way home because I was so convinced. So I will try not to get used to sleeping alone.

I think of the girls who have suffered the same fate.

I wonder if they are trying to get used to being alone, unable to tell their secrets to anyone. Or are they wondering if they should go alone to a place where no one can reach them? If so, then... I have only one wish for them.

Please don't get used to being alone.

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