“Good” he replied as he walked away before turning back around to tell me “Miss me when I’m gone, sweetness”
After he had officially left, I did miss him. He was the first man in a long time that had not treated me like I was a toy to be bought, played with, then discarded. I suppose that was my fault though. I was the one spreading my legs for cash.
Chapter 3 – Business as Usual
When you turn tricks for a living, you start to become cold towards your former life. I no longer called home and if home called me I would make excuses to get off the phone. It felt as if each answer I gave to my mother was just one more lie to remember.
One rainy night, the john I was with offered me an extra fifty dollars to let him bend me over the balcony as he fucked me. He had some weird sex in public fetish and said it was the only way he could cum. It seemed strange to me but I needed the money so I did it. Afterwards he proclaimed his love to me and I laughed thinking how absurd that was. How could someone love some hooker they had just bent over a hotel railing?
I shouldn’t have laughed and I realized it when his fist was about halfway to my face. I tried to duck the punch and run but he was faster and stronger. It ended with him raping me as he cried. That’s right, he raped me and he had the nerve to cry because his little feelings were hurt that I did not love him back.
There are some seriously mentally deranged people in this world and over the next three and a half years, I am sure I met them all.
After my rape, I did not see a john for over a week, luckily, I had some money saved up so I could afford the days off while my face healed. I did use a little money to buy myself a gun though, the next person that tried to put his hands on me I would shoot, or so I told myself. The truth is I never bought any ammo for it, guns made me nervous.
Before I knew it, I was back to business as usual. I placed my ads and waited on calls. If I was lucky I could do three to four johns a night but if it was a slow night I would just negotiate my rates to attract more business, Supply and demand controlled the pussy market the same way it does oil futures.
The johns were all different, some old , some young, single, married, some wanted just a blow job while others wanted pussy or anal and then there were the really kinky guys. Those are the kind I could really earn a lot with as long as I was willing to do whatever weird thing their perverted minds dreamed up.
I don’t even want to begin with describing some of their sick desires but one by one, if the money was right, I did them all.
By this time, I had given up the apartment I had once shared with my ex-boyfriend and stayed solely at the hotel. Why shouldn’t I live there? It saved money on rent and utilities. In only six months I had gone from trying to borrow money to offset my rent for a week to becoming a full-fledged whore. I thought I was at the lowest point in my life but looking back now, I realize I was just still getting started. The worst was still to come.
One night I received a call from a group of sailors wanting to book me for a bachelor party. After some careful negotiations, I agreed but I was only to have sex with the groom, his best man, and two other groomsmen. They paid me double my normal rate for the right to video it. I found out a few days later that the video was posted online and several of my friends, from my before life, had seen it. Nothing stays secret forever.
One of my friends later told me that the groom had been cute and she would have done him for free. Maybe he was, I didn’t notice honestly, he was just a job. I was just his whore.
I knew my place in things and did my best to never let that boundary be crossed lest I start thinking I was worth something to someone. It is for that very reason that I never kissed a john. Kissing is so personal, no it is better that we just keep it business.
People have told me that old cliché about everything happens for a reason. I have no idea if I believe that or not. I think mostly that is a person’s way of coping with the bad things that happen. Me, I just accepted my new life while at the same time promising myself that things would not always be that screwed up.
After finding out about the video being posted online I decided I needed a weekend away from it all. I packed a bag and hitched myself a ride to San Diego. Once there I booked a room at the best hotel I could find along the beach and pretended to be normal all weekend. It was harder to do than you might think. Everywhere I went it seemed as if people were watching me, whispering about me.
Had they seen the video? Did they know I sold my ass for money? Probably not, but when you are in this deep you are sure everyone can tell.
Eventually I went to a hospital and asked the ER doctor that saw me to please prescribe me something to settle my nerves and help me sleep. He ran several tests, urine and blood samples and did as I asked once he determined I was not just a junkie looking for a fix.
I found out that on Valium I slept amazingly well and was able to let go of the bullshit that had become my existence. Still the weekend had to end and I had to return to taking care of me since I couldn’t count on anyone else to do it. Unfortunately, taking care of me at that time still required sucking cock and selling ass.
I know, I know…I should have went home…I didn’t. I hitched a ride back to San Francisco and returned to placing my Craigslist ads. There was money to be made and I needed it after blowing so much on my little escape weekend.
Chapter 4 – Things Change
It was my first john back that caught my attention enough for him to be remembered as he was the only john that ever asked for this service. He was a sailor away from home for the first time and he just wanted to talk to a female. He spent his entire hour telling me about his girlfriend back home. It was really sweet.
My very next john also got my attention and will always be remembered because he had to have been the first legit cop I had come across. I knew that the second he drove me straight to the police station and began booking me. I kept looking around for one of my Wednesday cops hoping they could somehow arrange to make this go away but that never happened.
I was booked, fingerprinted, saw the magistrate who told me my bond would be twenty-five hundred dollars and then thrown into the bull pen which is where they place new arrests that may bond out before moving them to a cell in the back.
I guess I had been in the bull pen for maybe an hour or two, sorry there are no clocks in there so I can’t be sure, when another female was booked in. I recognized her face immediately, it was one of Antwan’s employees named Jessie.
After she too was placed in the bull pen I asked her what she had done and my naïve ass was surprised to find out she was also in for prostitution. She told me that she wouldn’t be staying long though because Antwan was on his way to bond her out. I was shocked beyond belief. Did Antwan know Jessie was selling herself? What would he do, fire her?
Things began to get clear when about half an hour after Jessie was released the guard returned and told me I had made bond.
Once outside, Antwan was waiting to pick me up. It wasn’t until I started to explain myself and my actions that Antwan and Jessie both burst into laughter. Even then it took me a few minutes more to realize he wasn’t mad.
Antwan told me he knew what Jessie did, when he had told me she was his employee he was being honest. She did work for him, he was, for the lack of a better word, her pimp.
Some call girls prefer to call their pimps their “boyfriend” or their “security” but when you look at it the right way it all can be summed up in that one word, pimp. Antwan told me he would set up a repayment plan so he could recoup his money he had just bonded me out with and then told me that I needed to stop acting like a naïve little girl and get myself some protection.
I pulled condoms from my purse and explained that I always used protection to which they laughed harder and he told me that he would teach me. We soon pulled into a restaurant and got a table. “Working women have to eat” Antwan said. I was famished so that was no problem for me.
After the waiter, had le
ft our table, Antwan told me that when he said “protection” he meant someone to watch my back, someone to stop a john if he decided to attack me or someone that could bond me out if I was arrested. I was intrigued with that idea so I asked him how much protection usually cost. Antwan told me that his ladies as he called them paid him thirty percent of their days take. I replied that that amount “seemed steep” to which Jessie chimed in with “it isn’t when you consider what all he does for us and besides, I have seen some guys want ninety percent.”
We soon returned to the hotel where Antwan and I resumed our talk in my room. I must admit that although I didn’t like giving up a third of my money, the thought of what I would have done tonight if Antwan had not shown up really scared me. I may have been forced to call my parents for bond and I am not really sure they would have done it.
No, a third of my money going for protection seemed like a better and better idea every moment. Once I had agreed to it Antwan told me that we only had to do one more thing to seal the deal. When I asked what, he told me he sampled every girl he represented. That was no problem for me, as I stated earlier he was very cute. It did however make me view him a little different knowing that he had been with Jessie and his other ladies as well.
Nevertheless, I removed my clothes on command and treated him as I would have any paying john. He was more than satisfied that night…twice!
The next morning we showered together where he again took a sample before he told me to “pack up your things, we are moving out today.”
“Moving out?” I questioned.
“Yes, this area is hot with police since the bust last night, it’s time to change cities baby girl. Relax, we do it every few weeks, it keeps the customers new, the money flowing and the police at a loss as to where to set up their sting.”
“Well can I at least know where we are heading?” I asked again.
“Vegas Baby, Vegas”
I had never been outside California before, not even for a day and here I was getting ready to go to Vegas, with my pimp. Even now I still find it hard to believe that my first ever real road trip was with my pimp. I had no clue what to expect there but if I had thought my life was bad before I was about to find out just how bad it could become.
If you have stayed with me this far on my journey into the depths of hell, check back soon when I take you into the next chapter…My story is just getting started.
If you have read this book, I would appreciate it if you could give it an honest review. I am an independent author and your reviews count.
San Francisco Page 2