Love with a criminal

One thought never leaves me, a thought that reflects, as in a mirror, all the diversity and contradictions of life's phenomena in our daily existence. Perhaps my story will prompt the esteemed reader to reflect on what we see around us and often accept without sufficient thought, as an axiom.

In a certain provincial town N lived a modest and unremarkable man. His name was Alexander, and he was twenty-eight years old. He worked as a system administrator in a small commercial bank. He would have continued working there if not for the story that happened to him.

It was late spring outside, and all of nature was blooming

with all its vital force. Sasha was once again restoring the functionality of an old, dying computer in the operations hall. The workday was coming to an end, and he really didn't feel like working. The head of the department, Iraida Antonovna, a portly woman of pre-retirement age in horn-rimmed glasses, approached the teller's station where this unfortunate computer was located. "Well, Sasha dear, is the patient more dead than alive?" she addressed him with cheerful notes in her voice. "I told Vasilich (the head of the IT department) that this old-timer wouldn't last long, and he replied that the boss didn't give money for a new one this quarter, so we need to find all possible reserves and keep it operational," Alexander blurted out in response. "Sasha, meet my new employee Natasha," said Iraida Antonovna, pointing to a beautiful and slender blonde standing behind her back. Sasha disconnected all the cables under the table connected to the system unit and crawled out into the light of day, groaning and sniffling. As it turned out, Natasha had been assigned to this very workstation, which in turn indicated that the office—as Sasha privately called the bank—had not abandoned the bad practice of seating newcomers at the oldest and most decrepit equipment. Sasha, embarrassed, extended his hand to Natasha, and she, overcoming awkwardness, shook it gently, in a feminine way.

"This is our invisible front fighter, sysadmin Shurik," Iraida Antonovna continued cheerfully. "If your phone, computer, printer, or even a kettle breaks, feel free to call him, and he, like a knight without fear or reproach, will come to your aid."

Sasha was not tall, nor was he handsome; he wore glasses, and his figure was far from athletic. Sasha privately believed that all this together prevented him from having success with members of the opposite sex. But this external shortcoming was more than compensated for by his professionalism, quick wit, and broad outlook. Iraida Antonovna loved him like a son and, by hook or by crook, wanted to befriend him with the employees of her department with the prospect of establishing a serious relationship. And although the young ladies rejected his candidacy, Iraida Antonovna, as a kind-hearted woman, did not abandon her attempts to matchmake Sasha at all costs.

Natasha sat down at her desk and began leisurely sorting through documents, placing them in the necessary folders. Even from Shurik's nearsighted gaze, the girl's natural beauty did not escape. Her blond hair fell in gentle curls onto her shoulders, her slender figure was coquettishly cinched into a strict business suit. Sasha crawled in from the opposite side to pull the system unit out from under the table for further repair. While down there, Shurik couldn't resist looking at Natasha's legs, sheathed in transparent nylon tights that emphasized their slenderness. He was sure the girl would move them from under the table, but strangely, Natasha did not hide her legs; on the contrary, as if inadvertently, she spread and brought together her rounded knees, opening and closing the view of her white lace panties, crossed by the seam of the sexy tights. Drenched in sweat, in sweet languor, Sasha struggled to rise to his buckling feet, holding the dusty computer case in his hands in front of him.

Shurik did not expect such frank behavior from the new employee at all.

"Sasha, when will my computer come back to life?" he heard Natasha's gentle, calm voice. The young man felt his face flush, and the jeans at his causal place began to stretch relentlessly. Natasha noticed the awkward position Shurik was in, but unlike other girls who would point it out with mockery and sarcasm to the hapless Romeo, she only smiled gently in response. "Tomorrow, all tomorrow," Alexander stammered, quickly moving towards the service entrance door.

The server room hit Sasha's face with the cool breeze of the air conditioners. The young man carefully placed the computer on a rack and closed his eyes. "How beautiful she is," Sasha thought to himself. "Lord, thank you for finally hearing my prayers and sending this unearthly creature into my life. You probably decided to reward me for all my failures and humiliations on the heart front, which I endured and blamed no one but myself for all my conscious life."

Alexashka was afraid to destroy with his activity that thin bridge of mutual understanding that had formed between him and Natasha. To Sasha's happiness, his beloved girl herself took the initiative and often visited him in the server room during lunch. They chatted about nothing the entire lunch break, enjoying simple and open communication. After work, Sasha would accompany his beloved to the bus stop. Their path went along a beautiful, shady park alley. All of nature seemed to greet them with the exuberant bloom of May colors, filling their souls with warmth and love. Sasha spoke with inspiration about extraterrestrial worlds, galaxies, and the universe; he shared with her his extensive knowledge in astronomy and philosophy with delight. And then the time for the first kiss came. It happened, as it seemed to Sasha, unexpectedly, when he wasn't expecting it, although internally he understood that it had to happen between them eventually. Natasha, with her gentle hands, drew Shurik, who was carried away by another story, to herself. Her hot lips intercepted his mouth, stopping Sasha mid-sentence. The tenderness and warmth of her breath made Sasha's heart beat with double rhythm. In these seconds of close communication, he lost his sense of time and space; his head spun in a furious, passionate rotation of a multicolored, fantastic kaleidoscope. "Sasha, let's go to your place," Natasha lisped in a gentle, unearthly voice, pulling away from him for a moment. "Yes, yes, of course," Sasha replied, struggling to restore his breathing. "I'll show you my library, which I've been collecting for years. If you want, I'll let you read any books you like. There's a lot of interesting stuff in them, and I'm sure you'll like them."

Sasha's small one-room apartment greeted them with warmth and coziness. Natasha noticed the computer on the desk. "Sasha, don't you have enough computers at work, you even got this semiconductor monster at home?" Natasha asked with genuine interest. "Nata," Sasha replied affectionately, with warmth and love in his voice, "you won't believe it, but this is also part of my work at the bank. Imagine a situation: there's a server failure, and I'm already home. To get back to work, I'd spend at least half an hour on the road. During that time, our bank could lose a lot of money. Or I'm sick, have a cold, but the situation requires my urgent intervention. And now I sit down at my computer, turn it on, and it's as if I never left! I can remotely manage the server from my apartment just like at the bank." "What a fine fellow you are," Natasha said, embracing him in her gentle arms with admiration in her voice. Their lips met in a long and passionate kiss, their hands intertwined in tender languor, and they, like two wrestlers, fell onto the bed, tearing off their jealous clothes. Alexander lost control of himself for a moment, and his highly aroused member pressed against Natasha's tender womb. Natalya carefully moved away from him and quietly and shyly whispered, "Sashenka, not now, I'm not ready yet." "Of course, forgive me, my beloved, I lost control," Sasha replied with guilt in his voice. "I will wait for this moment as long as you want."

A week later, in the server room, Natasha whispered in Shurik's ear that she was ready and wanted to spend that night with him. From happiness, Sasha felt like he was on cloud nine. How long those agonizing minutes before their meeting, so desired and exciting, dragged on for him. And then the clock hands showed six o'clock, and Sasha, from a low start, burst out of his work confinement, knocking over everything in his path. On the way home, they stopped by a shop where they bought a bottle of red wine and some snacks.

And then the cherished hour arrived: Natasha remained in her silk nightgown and tights. Sasha frantically covered all of his beloved's body with his kisses through the pink silk and resilient nylon. Natasha suggested having a little wine; they clinked glasses, and the cool ruby moisture irrigated the young man's parched mouth and throat. Sasha, at some point, felt the ground disappear from under his feet, and he completely blacked out.

Consciousness returned to Alexander painfully. His head was splitting from unbearable pain, as if thousands of little hammers were beating on his temples; it was hard for him to breathe. He vaguely began to recall the last moments before his blackout. And then a bright beam of light hit his eyes. Sasha felt that he was sitting on a chair but couldn't move his arms or legs for some reason. His consciousness cleared completely, and he saw that his hands were pulled behind his back and tightly, painfully tied at the wrists and elbows. His legs were spread wide and firmly fastened to the chair legs. His entire torso was wrapped like a spider's web with rope, which securely nailed him to the back of the chair. His mouth wouldn't close because of the tight gag stuffed into it, made of silk, with the painfully familiar smell of perfume.

"You don't even have proper rags," Natasha's voice sounded as if from a distance. "Had to stuff my nightgown and tights into your mouth. Well, okay, it's not a pity anyway; you've soiled them with your nasty snot." Sasha turned his head towards Natasha, and his gaze was met by two more thuggish-looking bruisers with shaved heads. "Guys," Natasha continued, "bring him into proper shape; I need him fresh and alert." A heavy, hairy hand slapped Sasha with a hefty blow.

"Seems I added a bit too much clonidine, and he was out for a whole four hours," Natasha continued with concern. One bruiser, the taller one, came close to Shurik and, with an intonation that brooked no argument, squeezed out: "Listen here, four-eyes. Now Natali will ask you questions. I strongly advise you to answer her immediately and without bullshit. If she succeeds, I'll kill you quickly and easily; you won't even feel it. But if you play dumb and stay silent, I'll make you regret being born, and you'll die slowly in agony." At this time, Natasha was talking to someone on her mobile phone: "Yes, he's come to already; we're starting to work on him." "Network management is implemented on remote terminal server technology; he has a static IP on the gateway there, and he logs into the server as admin from the client on his home PC, and there's everything your heart desires," Natalya continued confidently. Only now did Sasha finally see the light. Behind the mask of a passionately in love, beautiful girl hid a hacker skilled in technical matters. Helpless rage filled Alexander. Gathering his strength, he jerked on the chair, stretching the ropes, and moaned with all his might, as much as the tight gag allowed, simultaneously trying to push it out with his tongue. No such luck! They had packaged him with expertise, and he didn't have a single chance of freeing himself. "I still won't tell them anything," Sasha decided to himself. The heavy fist of the giant crashed onto his chin, and darkness instantly fell before his eyes, as if the lights had been turned off. The unfortunate young man's head lifelessly drooped onto his chest. Sasha's childhood began to float before his eyes; his memory reflected how in fourth grade he was friends with a girl from his class. Her name was Katya, and he came to her birthday party. As a gift, Sasha gave her his favorite book, "Alice in Wonderland." The gift didn't impress Katya, as others gave her a pocket Tetris game, a blouse, and some other fashionable things. Only her girlfriends came to the birthday party, and they giggled in corners, pointing their glances in his direction. After the festive dinner, the girls decided to play racketeers and, using their numerical superiority, pushed Sasha onto the bed and piled on top of him all together. They held his arms and legs, and Katka sat on his face. He remembered how scared he was when he started to suffocate. Before his eyes, to this day, as if in reality, stand those dark brown ribbed tights of Katka and part of the ceiling not covered by them.

The pungent smell of ammonia brought Sasha back to reality. Natasha was scolding the giant for hitting Sasha on the head. She told him that Sasha's head was now worth its weight in gold, and if he forgot anything, the giant himself would have to guess the login password. "Sashechka!" Natasha addressed the young man. "Don't torment the public and whisper the admin password in my ear." The giant pulled the gag out of the martyr's mouth for a moment. "You vile deceiver, I won't tell you anything," was all Sasha could say before the hated gag was stuffed back into his mouth even tighter than before. "Boys," Natasha said with a metallic note in her voice, "take care of him. I need the password as soon as possible; as they say, time is money." The giant and his assistant skillfully began driving needles under Sasha's fingernails. From the severe pain, the unfortunate young man screamed, but Natasha's hand clamped his mouth over the gag, muffling his weak moaning to a barely audible squeak. Tears appeared on Sasha's cheeks, and Natasha, still calmly, looking into his eyes, hissed, "Give me the password, you bastard." "Lord, where are you?" Sasha prayed to himself. "If you exist, help me." The pain did not subside and flared up with even greater force. "No! You don't exist," Alexander thought to himself. "If you were, you would stop my terrible torment. I don't believe in you; you are a myth people invented for their self-deception." Consciousness left him. And now before his eyes, the high school graduation party. He stands in a group of graduates; a slow dance starts playing on the dance floor. The graduating girls in fancy dresses invite the boys. He doesn't lose hope that Alesya will invite him to dance; after all, they had been friends since seventh grade. Sasha helped her with her studies, often let her copy tests and homework. Alesya invited Vadim, a handsome guy from a parallel class, and Sasha was left standing alone, smiling awkwardly. They whirled merrily in the vortex of the graduation waltz, and then, secluded in the locker room, kissed. Sasha didn't wait for the end of the graduation party and quietly went home. He told his mom that he had a terrible headache and would go to bed early. Mom understood everything without explanation and tried to comfort her son, and he, burying his face in the pillow, sobbed like a little child.

The foul smell of ammonia once again returned Sasha to consciousness. "When will this all end? I wish they'd just kill me quickly; I'm just tired of this unbearable pain," Sasha's bleeding soul screamed. Sasha looked at his tormentors bustling around him. His mood began to change, and he was seized by indifference to everything around him. "Knock knock," Natasha said jokingly. "We're here about that password."

"— How about we go over him with an iron?" the giant suggested, shifting Sasha's iron from hand to hand. "Wait, Vitalik, don't fuss," Natasha continued. "I think Alexander is ripe for a substantive conversation." Natasha moved closer to Sasha. She carefully removed the gag from the young man's mouth. "I see you've suffered a lot; sorry, it turned out this way. Sasha, you're not a stupid person and understand yourself that for me and my helpers, there's no way back. We can't leave you alive,

and believe me, I feel very sorry for you. But life is life; I chose not the best side of it. The question is that if our plan fails, then I, like you, will be killed, just a little later. I want to thank you for those unforgettable minutes we spent together; I will always remember you." "Natasha," Alexander squeezed out with difficulty, "even if I tell you the admin password, you still won't get into the electronic payment billing system. It has its own password, which I don't know." "Calm down, Sashenka, I've provided for that too," Natalya replied, taking out a neatly folded piece of paper from her pocket. "Iraida Antonovna is already an old person, and it was hard for her to remember the eight-digit access code to the electronic payment system." She showed the bewildered young man a note with the code written in Iraida Antonovna's neat handwriting. "In our language, this is called a classic masquerade," Natasha continued. The morally broken prisoner uttered the necessary password aloud. Kissing the exhausted young man on the forehead, Natasha sat down at the computer and quickly entered the necessary sequence of characters, then called on her mobile: "Misha, I have the password. Have you prepared everything on your end? Let's begin."

Fifteen kilometers from the city, not far from a birch gro