Access Code: Wh1t3D00r: Access Code, #1

By Débora A. Perugorría

Matt, a hacker who dedicates herself to stealing personal information, finds herself divided between two worlds:

The first is a relationship between two completely different women. On one hand, there's Matt who has suffered abuse since she was little, lives her sexuality in an open and totally natural way, almost painfully promiscuous. On the other hand, there's Ana, who has lived her entire life based on what her parents expect, lives her sexuality as a taboo topic, not allowing herself to feel pleasure without guilt for the relationship she is in. After all, her parents would see it as sinful and immoral. Both will have to struggle with internal demons, one with the birth of a new feeling: love. The other with the disappointed looks from her parents and the judgment of others.

The second world is the deal she carries out in parallel with the target she is working towards. This target shows itself open to giving her whatever she wants as long as she remains in the role of a prostitute fulfilling his fantasy of being with a child, which is painful for Matt as it brings up memories of a terrible past buried deep in her memory.

Will she be able to keep both lives separate or will she suffer the consequences of the collision of both worlds?

Will she obtain the desired data or be dragged down by her internal demons, thus finding her own destruction?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Débora A. Perugorría
• Release date: May 4, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223514688

Book preview

Chapter 1

I watch him nervously pacing back and forth, as if struggling to find the appropriate words for this kind of situation. Are there even any? From afar, he looks so confident, with such good bearing that one would think he’s the type of man who always has the right words for the appropriate moment. Sitting in an uncomfortable chair, I patiently wait for him to finish shaping his thoughts for fifteen minutes.

What’s your name? he asks, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence and placing the paper I gave him on the table. His voice exudes confidence that doesn’t match his pacing back and forth across the room.

You can call me whatever you want, that’s what you pay for, isn’t it? I respond sweetly, reminding him that this is just a business transaction. That’s how I navigate the world, without a name or age, without a family, and sometimes, without a soul.

I brought you some gifts, I figured they would be your size. If this goes well, we could meet again, so you can keep them for yourself. Oh! I also brought you a brush for that beautiful black hair of yours, he says, now more excited, his brown eyes shining with curiosity for the new rental toy he acquired.

I look at the garments he brought with reserved decorum. Inside the bag, there is a pale pink culotte with heart and flower designs and a top of the same color that will simulate being an infantile bra of those that are given barely when the first breast elevation appears, a gray pleated skirt with a matching white shirt, white stockings, and patent leather shoes with an adorable white flower on each side. The clothing looks expensive, but I know for sure that he can afford it without any problem.

I find everything adorable, do you want me to dress now? I ask with a soft, almost childish voice.

Actually, with what I’m paying, I was hoping to be able to bathe, dress, and style your hair personally, he says, nervously passing his carefully cut brown hair, I must admit that those few gray hairs that decorate his head give him a much more mature air that contrasts with his face that does not reveal his age for sure.

Of course, do you want me to call you by a particular nickname or name?

Can you call me ‘Daddy’?

Of course, Daddy! I respond with the most childlike voice I can simulate while approaching timidly, showing him that I understand his fantasy and am comfortable with it.

I’m not surprised, men like him are always the same. They ask for a woman who looks like a little girl, dress her up and style her hair in pigtails or braids, and try to hide the fact that they want to violate their daughters, nieces, or some poor girl who just moved in front of them.

I head towards the bathroom, walking slowly, leaving my glasses on the sink and starting to fill the tub. The bathroom is much bigger than my room, but I already expected that. Renting this apartment for a weekend costs an entire basic salary.

I know he is standing at the door, I heard his cautious steps approaching, but I ignored him and started to make bubbles in the water, laughing and playing with my fingers. I’m good at being what anyone desires. I start humming one of the children’s songs I know. I listen carefully and hear his breathing change, now it’s more agitated and I know his desire and erection make him anxious.

What a cute little girl you are, Mariana, but you are very dirty, he says as he devours me with his gaze, let me take care of that.

That’s what the object of your desire is called: Mariana, I think as I turn around and smile at him broadly.

Hi, Daddy! I didn’t see you come in, the bubbles are so much fun. I smile at him again as I playfully splash water.

Yes, so much fun. Come here, sweetheart, come to Daddy. I’ll take off that ugly clothes you’re wearing. Were you playing to be a big girl again? I can already see that you were, he says as he carefully rolls up his white shirt sleeves.

I stand up and timidly approach him. As I get closer, it is very evident to me that he is aroused, it can be seen through the dress pants he is wearing. He just needs a jacket and a tie and he would be impeccably dressed, ready to go to the office. He begins to undress me with a tenderness that is very typical of them, treating me as if I were a doll. I know this will not last, I know the harm he has in mind for me, but I understand that it’s not for me or about me, he sees Mariana.

Already naked, he invites me to enter the bathtub, holding my hand delicately and helping me in. The water is warm and scented with orange blossom, presumably from the bath soap I added. I take a few moments to enjoy its warmth and peacefulness before returning to my role.

He pours soap onto a pink bath sponge and begins to gently scrub me with it, removing imaginary dirt. Perhaps he wants to erase my perfume or the fact that it is not Mariana’s skin. Maybe he thinks that if he dedicates himself meticulously to this task, he can discover a Mariana inside of me: a Mariana who doesn’t get paid for sex, a pure and angelic Mariana who doesn’t fulfill strangers fantasies.

First, he scrubs my back, lowering himself enough to brush against my buttocks but without groping, then my arms, focusing on each finger and massaging them separately. He descends to my stomach, where I fake a laugh that sounds genuine to him, as he smiles satisfied. He caresses my face tenderly and returns to his task, taking one of my legs with his hands and rubbing the sponge from my thighs to my ankles. After finishing circling my leg, he focuses on my foot, repeating the strange ritual he did with my hands. He repeats the same with my other leg, and I see the blush on his face. Now I know the part he really desires is coming, so I must stay centered, charming, and innocent. He sets the sponge aside and takes a bar of soap, beginning to border my vagina, exerting a slight pressure at the junction of my legs.

Mariana, daddy has to clean you well. I have to clean everything so that you can be as pretty and good as before playing to be a big girl. You must be still and listen to me.

Yes, Daddy, I’ll be very good and obey you in everything.

What a good girl you are, Mariana, he whispers as he slowly introduces the soap into my vagina, just a little bit, with just the right pressure to penetrate me a little but without putting it all inside me. You must be still and listen to me, he repeats again.

Daddy, it hurts, I moan, maintaining my role and trying to remove his hands. I know how much he likes the idea of corrupted innocence.

I know, sweetheart, but we want you to be nice and clean, don’t we?

Yes, Daddy.

He resumes pressure with the soap, again without fully penetrating me. Then he removes it and begins to caress me with his fingers. God gave me a small vagina, despite a hundred men passing through my body, it remains the same, which makes my business work. He is surprised to notice that when he inserts the tip of a finger, it fits just right, without any extra space, which makes his fantasy more believable. I wonder how many tried to replace Mariana before me, how many times at this point he noticed this crucial difference in his fantasy. A big smile appears on his face, knowing he’s sure that I’m worth every penny. He stops caressing me, passes shampoo through my hair with a gentle massage, and I start playing with the foam. He smiles with tenderness at how innocent I can pretend to be. I know I can be the perfect Mariana, the one who lives in his fantasies, I can perfectly fulfill every insane fantasy he can come up with. He rinses the shampoo and repeats the process with the conditioner.

It’s time to get out of the bathtub, my darling, the water is getting cold and I don’t want you to get sick.

But, Daddy, there’s still foam, I pout.

How could I say ‘no’ to those beautiful green eyes you have? Alright, just five more minutes.

Thank you, Daddy, you’re the best. I love you! I exclaim, smiling widely and playing with my hands, to which he responds with an equally wide smile.

Once I feel the water is cold, I get out of the bathtub. He quickly starts drying me off with the same dedication with which he soaped me up. Then he begins to dress me, and I can see his eyes gleaming with lust as he sees how my underwear fits me. My chest is somewhat large for playing the role of a little girl, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. On the contrary, my height provides enough to fit the bill since I measure one and a half meters, the perfect height between child and adult. He slides the skirt over my legs and can’t resist staying a second in front of my vagina. I can hear him inhaling deeply to smell the orange blossom scent. Then he continues dressing me with trembling hands.

After finishing with the wardrobe, he asks me to sit in front of the mirror, and I obey without question. He starts brushing my hair, stroking and brushing it again and again until it is perfectly straight. Then, as I suspected, he gathers it in two high ponytails, which, along with the absence of makeup, make me look considerably younger. He takes a few minutes to admire his new toy, satisfied with his work. He takes out a little girl’s perfume from his right pocket, apparently waiting to approve some style of physical examination before using the precious essence that would turn me into HIS Mariana. He generously sprays my neck and then inhales. He looks at me with satisfaction and smiles.

You’re perfect as Mariana, now that I found you I won’t spare any expense to make you mine, murmurs.

I simply nod and we make our way to the bedroom, slowly sitting next to each other on the immaculately made single bed with carefully ironed white sheets. The room is painted in a shade of white that seems to glow with the dim light that enters through the slits in the blinds. The scent of lavender from the classic cleaning products used in these types of places lingers in the air, which always makes my stomach churn, though I’m not sure why.

Now that you are perfectly clean, there is something I want to talk to you about, Mariana. You are now old enough to know what love is and what makes a girl become a woman. I want you to be ready for the world, to know how to take care of yourself, and to not let anyone take advantage of you, he says, looking into my eyes to make sure I am paying attention to every word. I want to teach you, Mariana, how to please a man, but not just any man, only me for now, since I am your father and it is something that all fathers should do with their daughters. You are eight years old and it’s time to start with the lessons to make you a perfect young lady. You want to be perfect for Daddy, don’t you, sweetheart?

I promise to do everything you tell me and I will do it to the best of my ability, I reply, clasping my hands over my lap.

Very good, my dear. This is something that will be just between us. Nobody should know that I’m training you. If someone were to find out, they’ll accuse you of cheating and we don’t want that, do we?

No, Daddy, I promise to keep the secret, only you and I will know.

Perfect, today will be your first lesson. You must learn what makes a man a man and what makes a woman a woman. Today you will also learn where each part of the body goes when men and women are together.

Immediately after, he begins to slide his hand up my thigh until he reaches the point where my legs meet. His hands are gentle, perhaps too gentle for a man. He applies slight pressure for me to open my legs, and I comply. With his index finger, he starts moving up and down over my underwear.

Mariana, look at me... Now tell me: Do you feel anything when I touch you here?

They tickle, Daddy, do men tickle women there?

Yes, but only I can tickle you there, no one else.

Yes, Daddy, I won’t let anyone else tickle me there.

Alright, now look. He unzips his pants and pulls out a prominent erection, takes my hand and places it on his penis. Nothing I haven’t seen before.

It’s warm, Daddy, I whisper, feigning surprise and curiosity.

I know, now that you know how it feels, let me show you what men do with this, it’s what makes women tickle where I showed you before.

I widen my eyes even more, pretending to be surprised, which makes his penis throb under my hand.

Mariana, I think you need me to show you what tickling feels like. Lie down on the bed and spread your legs for Daddy.

I do exactly what he asks while smiling sweetly, pleased. He strokes my cheek and then proceeds to stroke my legs, moving up to the edges of my underwear and removing them. He takes a moment to admire them before setting them aside. He calmly lowers his pants, and I can tell that he has planned this in his mind over and over again, searching for the right words and movements to not scare the little Mariana lying in the bed.

He takes his penis with one hand while supporting himself with the other to keep our bodies separated and proceeds to slide up and down the entrance to my vagina, caressing me with the tip of his penis slowly, trying to make his way as gently as possible. He suddenly stops, as if he remembered something.

Mariana, this might tickle a bit, but I have to give you some kisses here, he says, at the same time putting his index finger on that precious spot now also cherished by him. It’s just to make the tickling easier, darling.

Okay, Daddy, do I need to do something?

No, darling, just stay still, you’re perfect like that.

I feel his breath in front of my vagina while he speaks to me. He licks my outer part first, then timidly introduces his tongue caressing my lips, with exaggerated care he goes up and down inside me, trying to lubricate the narrow path to a sinful heaven in front of him. He continues with the caresses with the tip of his penis again, until he finally decides to enter.

Mariana, this might hurt a little because it’s the first time it happens, you must endure it until I order you to stop.

I nod, knowing that it will be rough and that the feigned paternal care will disappear, because in a few seconds he will give free rein to his fantasy of rape Mariana.

He penetrates me with just the head of his penis, enjoying the feigned reaction of pain that I evoke. That single grimace unleashes the monster within him, as he takes me firmly by the waist and penetrates me with all the force he’s capable of, I scream with fake pain, evoking a childish cry that only motivates him to penetrates me with more force, just as he dreamed so many times.

Daddy, it hurts! It hurts a lot! I exclaim.

He puts a hand over my mouth and looks me in the eyes, not pulling away even a single centimeter. He responds with a hard tone:

This is what good girls do, Mariana, they endure it quietly!

Still with his hand over my mouth, he keeps thrusting into me with a beastly force. I evoke the saddest and most heartbreaking memory I have and start crying, knowing for sure that he will enjoy it. He can’t hold back any longer and empties himself inside me.

Not so bad, right? We have to work on it more, but you’re a very good girl, Mariana, he says, still panting, before kissing me on the lips.

He then gets up from the bed and leaves me completely alone, letting me know that the game is over. I get up from the bed, no longer as Mariana, but as the prostitute fulfilling aberrant fantasies, satisfied to have done a perfect job, and I head to the bathroom to collect my belongings.

On the way there, I see him for a moment, holding a picture of a brunette girl. As he looks at it, I hear him whisper, I do this for you. The man who was moaning desperately in my ear just moments ago is now in the most vulnerable position I have ever seen him in. I don’t want to continue witnessing this pitiful spectacle, so I quickly gather my things and change. I leave the bathroom and go to collect my payment. My service is one of the best, who would have thought... a prostitute who accepts credit and debit cards.

After completing the transaction, I leave the place, leaving him in a sea of guilt. Not all of my clients are like him, some want to dominate, others want to be dominated, to humiliate or be humiliated, some just want affection and to remember that love that destroyed them, while others just want to rape and beat. I always choose them based on who they are and what I can get from them, never on what they desire. If you only see a prostitute, you’re mistaken, but I don’t blame you, I’m very good at lying.

You see, my previous client’s name is Alejandro Martinez, CTO of one of the most influential computer companies in the country, and now he’s my lapdog. He would do anything to keep secret that he fervently desires to rape his eight-year-old stepdaughter named Mariana, so that I don’t reveal his dark paternal love to anyone, but before that, I can still get more than money. I can get projects, interesting data, and maybe even some new toys. I just need to adjust the timing so that selling that data benefits me in the best way.

Chapter 2

I was thirteen when I successfully disassembled and reassembled my first computer for a computer class, and the feeling of achievement left me wanting to learn more. Day by day, I educated myself in all things related to computer science. I learned different programming languages, but I have to admit that C++ holds a special place in my heart. What interested me was that men dominated the field, men in need of affection and support, understanding and details. I dove into learning about social engineering, perfecting myself and learning to be what the target wants me to be, learning to manipulate at will.

I no longer had to spend my time doing doxing (which is nothing more than research, but with a nice name), one of the eight hundred fans I made along the way in exchange for a bit of attention did it for me, although my inner perfectionist always screamed to verify all the data, which was most likely accurate, but I enjoyed discovering something that my servers did not notice. A feeling of superiority rose from my feet to my head and then descended in a burning desire to my sex. There was no need to waste time on basic codes, web pages, or any other work that distracted me from stealing data and information.

From the age of fifteen, I was hired by a man dedicated to selling data to the highest bidder, and I did the work, receiving ninety percent of what was obtained in the sale. I could make the data sale myself, but it would require even more time to find a buyer and a target, so I simply use an intermediary that makes my life easier.

Finally, I am in my home, a small apartment that I share with a girl named Ana who aspires to be a prominent artist. I moved here recently, and I know I will not stay in this place for more than a year. It’s always like that. I was looking for an apartment to live alone, but when I saw an ad that said, art student seeks roommate, preferably neat and responsible. Pets allowed, I was surprised to respond to it, perhaps driven by the curiosity of absorbing some of the essence of an artist. The interview was short; she showed me the apartment and the room that would be mine. We talked about rent and groceries. Apparently, I was the only one who showed up because I was accepted on the spot. She asked my name, to which I only replied with my first name and added, most people call me Matt, twisting a blue strand of hair. She smiled, and I knew this would not end well for her.

I enter the bathroom and begin to take