‘I felt like my life was over’ How scammers take advantage of Russia’s anti-LGBTQ legislation to blackmail queer people
Scams targeting LGBTQ+ people through fake dates have long been a problem in Russia — but they’ve become even more common since the Supreme Court outlawed the non-existent “international LGBT movement” in November 2023. While scammers once mainly threatened to expose victims to their families or post their personal information in homophobic online groups, they now often threaten to report them for “spreading LGBT propaganda.” Few go to the police, fearing the authorities might target them instead. Journalist Svetlana Bronnikova investigated how these scams have evolved for 7x7, with support from Vykhod and the LGBT health website Parni Plus. Meduza shares an abridged translation.
Some of the names in this story have been changed.
‘I recorded everything’
Artyom and Vladimir met on December 5, 2024. Their first date took place in Vladimir’s car near an abandoned warehouse, where they engaged in oral sex.
At the time, Artyom was 16 years old. He was still in school and living with his parents in a large Siberian city. Vladimir was 18. On the dating app where they met, he had presented himself as bisexual. After connecting there, the two quickly moved their conversation to Telegram.
After their encounter, Vladimir stopped responding to Artyom’s messages. Then, four days later, he wrote, “I had a dashcam in my car. It recorded everything. I think you understand what I mean.”
Vladimir demanded 20,000 rubles ($244). If Artyom didn’t pay, he threatened to report him to the police for “LGBT propaganda” and to out him to his family. Artyom immediately transferred 1,000 rubles ($12) — his pocket money for transportation and school lunches. He promised to pay the rest later, once he found a job.
“I was terrified. I have a reputation as a good student, I do well in school. And suddenly [I was thinking about] prison — as if I had robbed or killed someone,” Artyom recalled. “I really thought they might lock me up.”
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Artyom reached out to Mayak, an organization that supports LGBTQ+ people. They provided him with a psychologist and a lawyer. The lawyer assured him that he couldn’t be prosecuted for propaganda and advised him to ignore Vladimir. A week later, Vladimir stopped messaging him.
Artyom never went to the police — since he’s a minor, any questioning would have required his parents to be present, and he doesn’t want to come out to them.
He still uses dating apps to meet people but has changed his approach. He no longer switches to other messaging apps, has hidden his phone on social media and Telegram, and is in no rush to meet people in person. The experience left him struggling with anxiety and insomnia, but after a few weeks, things improved.
Blackmail through threats of outing people for their sexuality has long been one of the most common scams targeting queer people in Russia. Scammers typically gather personal details — such as where the victim studies or works, or who their friends and family are — before making demands.
Before the authorities declared LGBTQ+ people part of an extremist movement, threats usually involved exposing victims to their loved ones or posting their information in homophobic online groups. Victims whose details were leaked to these groups often faced harassment, threats, and sometimes even physical violence. Still, many ignored scammers, and actual outings were less frequent.
But as Russia’s anti-LGBTQ+ laws have become more repressive, scammers have adopted new tactics. Instead of just threatening to out victims, they now use the fear of police reports as leverage. “People take [threats of] police reports much more seriously,” said lawyer Ksenia Mikhaylova. “Some fear they could be charged with propaganda or extremism. But in reality, scammers won’t go to the police — because by extorting money, they’re the ones committing a crime.”
Why do these crimes go unreported?
Scammers targeting LGBTQ+ victims don’t rely only on blackmail — they also use other common fraud schemes, knowing queer people are particularly vulnerable in Russia. That’s what happened to Ilya, a university student from a small city in the country’s Central Federal District.
Ilya met a man named Daniil on a dating app. After a few days of chatting, they switched to using Telegram. Daniil claimed he made money on a crypto exchange, and Ilya figured some extra income wouldn’t hurt. Daniil sent him a registration link, but with one condition: he had to transfer money to a special wallet first. That’s how Ilya lost 50,000 rubles ($610).
When his bank flagged the transaction as potentially fraudulent, Daniil disappeared, deleting their entire chat. “It took me a long time to process the fact that scammers even exist on a gay social network,” Ilya told 7x7. “I know there are bad people everywhere, but I guess I had idealized the queer community. This was my wake-up call.”
Before meeting Daniil, Ilya had faced other blackmail attempts. Anonymous accounts had messaged him, sending him his own nudes that he’d previously shared in dating chats.
Once, scammers hacked one of his friends’ old accounts. The account belonged to chat groups dedicated to research projects that Ilya was working on, they threatened to out him to his colleagues if he didn’t pay up.
Ilya received this same threat three times. Each time, he ignored them and blocked the scammers. Nothing ever came of it.
“Of course, not everyone knows about my personal life, and sometimes I get scared — what if they actually out me in the research chats? My university constantly threatens to expel me for all sorts of reasons. I have no idea how that would play out. But I’m partially out, and that helps me. My mom, my brother, and my friends know,” he explained.
Despite the risks, Ilya hasn’t changed how he dates. For him, that would feel like going back into the closet — something he refuses to do. “I am who I am. Why should I have to hide if I’m not violating anyone’s personal boundaries?” he told 7x7.
According to Mikhaylova, fraud and blackmail cases are often easy to solve — especially when victims have sent money and can provide bank details. But queer people who file complaints are frequently ignored by police.
“When cybercrime involves heterosexual victims, police have no trouble tracking down scammers. But when a queer person files a report, they need a persistent lawyer — someone who will push for an investigation, file 150 complaints. Then, maybe, the case will move forward,” she said.
Most LGBTQ+ victims don’t go to the police, fearing that instead of protecting them, authorities will charge them with “LGBT propaganda” or target them in other ways.
These fears aren’t unfounded. Mikhaylova has seen cases where victims became the ones under investigation. In one instance, a transgender woman reported a robbery — only to find herself facing “LGBT propaganda” charges. Authorities claimed that by posting her profile on a dating site, she was “promoting” gender transition. Within a month, she was fined 100,000 rubles ($1,220). The robbers were never caught.
Impersonating police
Maria works as a sex worker. She’s the only person in this story who, after being threatened, blackmailed, and raped, decided to report it to the police. The suspect was ultimately found and remanded in custody. It turned out that Maria wasn’t his first victim — he had previously blackmailed both transgender and cisgender women.
Despite this, Maria regrets going to the police. Now that law enforcement knows she’s a trans woman, she fears they might raid her home.
One officer, Maria said, asked if she was avoiding military service — implying that she had transitioned just to dodge the draft. Later, other officers tried to persuade her not to mention the rape in her police statement.
Maria met the man who later blackmailed her in August 2024, in a dating group for trans people. “He said he liked people like me,” Maria recounted. “That same evening, I went to his place.”
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As soon as she arrived, the man told Maria she’d fallen into a trap. He claimed to work for law enforcement, showing her a gun and a badge that later turned out to be fake. Then he raped her. Afterwards, the man handcuffed her and threatened to have her prosecuted for “LGBT propaganda” and “organizing prostitution.” He forced her to record a video confession, making her say on camera that she was promoting LGBTQ+ rights and connecting sex workers with clients.
After that, the man offered her a “deal”: he showed her a photo of another trans woman and ordered Maria to track her down, find out her passport details, and locate her home address. Maria didn’t know the woman personally but had seen her profile in dating chats. She agreed. “I was terrified. I felt like my life was over,” she told 7x7.
The man then used Maria’s phone to open a credit card in her name. He took her to an ATM, where she withdrew 100,000 rubles ($1,220) and handed it over to him. They never saw each other again. The next day, he called her, but she didn’t pick up.
According to lawyer Ksenia Mikhaylova, law enforcement officers have started setting up fake dates themselves, pressuring queer people into becoming informants and outing other LGBTQ+ people.
“This used to be common in Chechnya, but now we’re seeing it happen in other regions of Russia,” Mikhaylova said. “In the heat of the moment, it’s difficult to tell whether someone is really an officer or just a scammer pretending to be one.”
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