The Beginning of a Life as a Prostitute
I guess, like anything, there is always a beginning and a history that must be told in order to understand the present. And here, where posts will just be random excerpts from a strange world in which I voluntarily stepped into, one must understand the reasoning behind the movement. I currently work as a prostitute and have done for approximately four months. Three of those four months, I was seventeen and working illegally (well, more illegally than now) as an underage prostitute. I do not support a drug habit, child nor have I been sexually abused. I hold a full time office job, and work weekends and weeknights. Normally, one or two shifts a week will suffice, and bring me from $800 - $1200 cash weekly. I work in-house, as escorting pays by the hour, and not well (or so I've heard from other girls). I was raised in a christian loving caring family environment. While I now live alone, that environment is still there, and stable. I come from an upper/upper middle class family and have come through a private school education which I chose to leave to embark upon full time work. I'm a very attractive girl, slim, fit and with an ideal body type. Some say I have "Class", and without sounding egotistical, I have not seen another in my line of work within this state that is as attractive as me (although, each to their own. Compared to other girls with similar ages / body types). Whilst it means I am constantly busy, and never without clients, somehow I feel like the place I work in cheapens me. I have considered moving interstate to classier, upmarket establishments, and no doubt if I continue to do this work, at some stage I will move and recieve considerably higher money and more upmarket clientele. I still don't know exactly why I started. I have never really understood myself, and only possess this strange feeling that I must do things, even though I am unsure why I must do them. I have always been extremely sexually active, curious and expertimentive, especially from an early age. I have always has desires that were always apparently different from other girls my age, and whilst my eyes have opened considerably, they are often not considered normal, right or otherwise attributed generally to past emotional, mental and sexual abuse. These primarily centre around rape fantasies, from forced submissive sceneraios, sexual slavery, physical torture and humiliation. Often, they include multiple men, which are highly unattractive, older and sadistic in nature. Whilst I believe the root of this comes from the primal female urges to submit and be dominated, I do not know, nor understand their origin. Only that they surfaced from later childhood (ages 10 - 12) and have never left me. The intial appeal to sex work was purely sexual. The act of being paid for, the lowered self worth, "Dirty" value and simply fucking random, unattractive old men got me off in my mind. Sadly, reality is slightly different and with it comes an entire Pandora's box of problems and emotions I did not consider. Secondly, I have always wanted to write a book. Some people play music, others paint, some write, some fight and some simply self destruct within themselves. I prefer to write as my outlet, and at one stage was pondering a fiction book with a prostitute character. I wanted to understand, so I considered working for a few shifts to get into the mindset. Some say it is stupidity to do something that is irreversable for the sake of writing. I know I would have tried this type of work at least once in my life regardless. It seems old hat, and instinctive. It is the oldest of professions apparently, so who knows what past lives may have entailed? A co-worker asked me how I was coping after my first few shifts. "Alright." I replied. "How's your head coping with it all?" "I'm not sure. I'm still working it out. It's easier than I thought, but sometimes it gets to me. If it gets to hard to deal with it, it's not worth it, I'll leave." "Well, if you ever need to talk, let me know. But leaving helps a bit. But you've already done it. And no matter how much you forget, erase and cover this part of your life, the fact that you've sold yourself for money, and sometimes insignifigant amounts of money still stands. Thats why they come back, for the money, and the fact that they can't go back to the person they were before." Somedays, I wish I had have waited a while, so I could have explored what and who I could have been before I destroyed a small part of myself.
DATE OF PUBLISHING
16-AUG-2005
SOURCE LINK
http://andsoshesaid.blogspot.com/