I lost my eyesight thanks to a sudden car crash. In order to fund my treatment, I took up the position of a blind spectator, as per my friend's recommendation. The job scope was… challenging to put into words, to say the least. To make things worse, one of the clients was my boyfriend.

A New Job

My name is Kiara Weeks. Before the car crash, I was a modestly well-off graduate, but the aftermath of the accident drained my parents' inheritance, and I was left a blind woman. The doctor reassured me that the condition was temporary.

Still, I had a feeling that period could last anywhere from six months to my whole life.

Thanks to the car crash, I started to truly appreciate how precious friendship and love were. If it weren't for my boyfriend, Michael Rivera, and my best friend, Laura, I'd never have gotten over the hurdle.

My boyfriend, especially, worked himself to the bone just to get enough money for my treatment. Although I couldn't see him, his voice sounded perpetually tired. When Kiara came to me about a certain… job, I felt a weight getting lifted off my shoulders.

It was a weird job with a weirder name: blind spectator. Laura said it was an easy job though, and it paid well. I just had to pass the interview. So, I decided to give it a go.

After all, I couldn't let my boyfriend work himself to death just to cure me. When they told me I passed the interview, I naturally assumed it was a joke. The interview was a simple one. They just needed to check my eyesight.

Truth be told, the questions they asked almost made me feel like I was in a consultation room.

Something felt off, but I couldn't put a finger on it. However, I was tempted by the pay. It was three thousand a month. It was very surprising that a blind girl like me could get a job that paid this much. In my excitement, I forgot to ask about my job scope.

When I came home, I realized something. If the job was so nice, why didn't Laura apply for it? She told me they needed a blind person for the job. Strictly a blind person. She then told me about the job specifications, and safe to say, I did not take it well.

"Is this some kind of fetish? Do they enjoy it? They want a blind person to stay in the room and listen to them go at it all the way? This is even worse than Michael's fetish!"

I then remembered what I told Laura about Michael's performance in bed. Just when I was about to explain myself, Laura said, "Nothing wrong about kinks. I think it's fine."

I nearly assumed she was talking about Michael, and then guilt ate me up. It was horrible for me to think that they were people like that. I shook my head and stopped my mind from wandering into dark places.

Laura noticed the look on my face and thought I couldn't accept a job this weird. She told me that things had changed now, and bedroom affairs weren't that much of a taboo anymore. We were adults, and we'd seen and experienced plenty of stuff.

She had a point, but I still found the thought of being a voyeur repulsive.

"Think about it, Kiara. They're paying thirty hundred a month. We need the money, and you know how crazy the rich can be about fetishes. Just ignore it. Not like you can see them anyway."

Laura managed to convince me, but I decided to put more thought into it. After all, I was a lady, and I was blind. This job could be more hazardous than I thought. Maybe it was just me, but I thought doing this behind my boyfriend's back was wrong.

It was late at night when Michael came home. Just when I was about to tell him about the new job, I caught a whiff of perfume from him. He then sighed with exhaustion. Regardless, I immediately forgot everything I was about to say.

First Job

"You don't have to push yourself, Michael. My eyes will heal in time, remember? Doctor's words."

Michael sighed and grabbed my hands. I felt him patting my head lovingly. "Don't worry. I'm not pushing myself. I'll do anything if it means you'll get better soon."

I felt the urge to cry. Michael told me about the doctor's orders and asked me to get some rest. I was a patient, and I shouldn't push myself either. He told me not to worry about him. Then, he huddled closer and asked me if Laura had taken good care of me.

I said yes, and only then did he relax. Michael walked away, and I made up my mind to take that job and make money. Even so, before I slept, I felt sorrow welling up within me. I lived a righteous life, so why did I run into a hit-and-run?

If the driver hadn't run away, I'd have gotten the money for my treatment, and Michael wouldn't have had to work this hard. When I was still in the hospital, the only thing that I was concerned about was my blindness. The hospital bill wasn't on the list of my worries.

After all, my parents bought a lot of insurance plans for me growing up, but unfortunately, none of them could be relied on when I needed them.

It was my first day of work. The job was weird, but my colleagues were nice to me.

Laura told me that I would be working in a five-star hotel. A presidential suite, to be exact. I heard that one day for the room cost more than my pay. "Well, that's a lot of money."

It was still a big expense for me even before the car crash. Laura was nonchalant about it. She said it wasn't that much. If she had a chance, she'd come with her boyfriend. I noticed that something was off about her tone, but then the talk about her boyfriend distracted me.

I was happy for Laura. She found herself a partner, and he was rich too. She didn't need my support for her lifestyle anymore. After all, I was poorer than her. I thought it was a shame I couldn't see her in love.

Then Laura said something weird. She was almost whispering, so I thought I was hearing things, but it sounded like she said, "It's fine. You'll get the chance someday."

My colleague took me to the suite. Since I was blind, I was more in tune with my sense of smell now. I caught a whiff of Michael's scent. I was stunned. I wondered if I was already that dependent on Michael. This was just my first day at work.

I heard the door open and close, but no one talked to me. Footsteps thudded and rustled. I knew there were two guests. My colleagues told me all I had to do was stand or sit still. I didn't need to think or speak.

I heard sounds of the clients' breathing, and I wondered if they found a spectator weird. I wondered if they would ask me to leave the room if things got uncomfortable. Eventually, I realized I was overthinking.

I heard something rustle, and I perked up in the direction of the sound. Then, I heard a zipper being pulled down. When I realized what kind of zipper it was, I felt my face getting hot. 'They're cutting to the chase right away?' I thought. 'Are they going to do that right after this?'

I was close enough to hear their moans and quickened breathing. I had no idea where they were, specifically, but they must be close. I heard the sound of dripping and squirting liquid. I wished I was deaf right there and then.

Unfortunately, I wasn't. I heard a woman's moan. Her voice sounded familiar and silvery. I couldn't see myself, but I was sure my face and ears were bright red. Their movements weren't quiet, either.

I heard the laughter of a man, and for some reason, it almost sounded like my boyfriend's. Then, both of my clients moaned.

Found

The sound of footsteps echoed, and I heaved a sigh of relief. It was surprising that they had this kind of fetish, though. The guy's voice sounded so much like my boyfriend's, and it took me back to my first time with him.

I wasn't a lustful woman, but for some reason, I felt agitated at work. The voice aroused me a little, and I envied the woman. No, this couldn't be. I must be mad for having that thought. To keep my mind in one place and the inappropriate voices out, I forced myself to think about my memories with Michael.

Most of them were about his… action in bed. I felt myself breathing heavily, and I got hot and bothered. I couldn't wait to get home and do it with Michael. Finally, the clients' action came to an end. I heaved a sigh of relief, and my colleague took me outside.

My nerves were wracked, and I couldn't stand up properly. When I got out and took a breath of fresh air, I realized how strong the stench in the room had been. Well, the job was weird, but it was mostly easy.

I got used to it, but one thing bothered me. The job always turned me on easily, and my first clients booked me for a month. Thanks to that, I came home every night wanting to do it with Michael, but he declined every time.

I could understand. Work must be hard on him, but I still felt a little let down. Michael's work got busier. Sometimes I would wake up dead at night. The news was playing, but Michael was already nowhere to be found.

When Michael told me about his overtime, I felt like cursing his company for exploitation. Still, he was doing this for me, so I felt touched and worried for him at the same time. I prayed to God for a swift recovery many, many times, but my prayers weren't answered.

I thought hope was gone, but one day, I opened my eyes and found myself seeing silhouettes. I stopped relying on my crutch to go around. Instead, I walked around carefully, using the silhouettes as my beacons. Eventually, I managed to get into the bathroom, and I almost cried tears of joy. I was healing.

I was going to share the good news with Michael and Laura, but then I realized it was a special day today—our anniversary. Every year, we would go on a date on our anniversary, so I decided to save the good news until then.

I took a day off and decided to dress up for the occasion. I was filled with excitement all day long, but Michael told me his overtime ate into the night too much, so our date had to be delayed to the next day.

I knew he was working hard, so despite feeling down about it, I went with it. Just when I was about to tell him that I was regaining my eyesight, he hung up.

I sighed and got a call after that. I picked it up happily, but it was from work. They wanted me to take the shift, and the client was willing to pay more. I was disappointed that Michael didn't call, but I accepted the job anyway because I could make extra cash.

Though I could barely see anything, I could make out what my workplace looked like, and it was luxurious. The presidential suite was bigger than my apartment. 'So, this is how the rich live? I envy them,' I thought.

While I was checking things out, I heard footsteps coming from behind. An urge to turn around seized me, but I held back. I got this job exactly because I was blind.

I saw my clients, though they were vague. When the guy showed up, I thought he was Michael. Their voices were already similar, and now they even looked the same. I wondered if he was Michael.

Before I could get a closer look, they had gone away. I didn't know if I should feel glad or disappointed. I told myself he couldn't be Michael, but the more I looked, the more he resembled my boyfriend.

It was a shame I wasn't able to get closer. Melancholically, I bit my lip. I kept telling myself not to think too much about it. When I got home, I would quit my job. Once I got my eyesight back, I would get a proper job.

Work felt longer than usual that day. They only stopped when I was nearly dozing off. My colleague hadn't shown up yet, so I couldn't just leave. During the wait, an idea hit me. The clients were sound asleep, so it should be fine to see what they looked like. I had a feeling the guy was Michael.

I walked at a glacial pace, careful not to make a sound. Moments later, I was face to face with the man, and when I saw what he looked like, I staggered backward without thinking, and I clapped my hands to my mouth.