Added: Lupe Stoffel - Date: 29.04.2022 19:03 - Views: 29188 - Clicks: 9997
This provides a space for women to tell of their experiences of the sex trade in their own words.
A group of men stand there and my legs begin to buckle beneath me. But the question has already been answered in my mind and I know that my life will be changed forever. Steve removes the gag and unties my wrists. I want to go home. And for the first time I want my mother. I try to pull away but they are too powerful. The third. Then the fourth. I wonder how long this will go on for. My throat is dry from screaming. The brutal thrusts feel like they will tear me apart. My knees are red raw. They pull me around like a doll.
My mind slips away, trying to find some nice memory to cling to but its blank. When the fourth stops, I take a moment to gather myself but then the fifth comes and flips me onto my stomach. The pain sears through me like a hot poker but I still fight as best I can.
And Steve still stands and watches. I know I cannot stop them. My screams have died down to sobbing. I want it to end. But as the next approaches I stop. There is silence. I lay there while he thrusts into me. Not a sound from my lips.
My body like a piece of meat. I have lost all ability to fight them and I give my body to them. I am paralyzed there in that room and darkness comes over me tying me in a knot and there is no humanity to be found. When he finished, the men headed upstairs chatting and joking. Steve plants a kiss on my forehead. I hear the key turn in the lock and all there is, is the dark.
Down in that cellar a girl had been born full of pure rage and anger, continually tormented and too Girls bound and gagged stories to be let out. She wanted to wreak havoc everywhere and cause destruction and ultimately her own death. She was eight. I have been sent to a walk-up, after yet another huge fight leading to me hitting him in the jaw with my shoe.
You see, I had started to express my pain and anger towards him and was lashing out more often. He had broken two of my fingers, fractured a rib and broken my arm. I have probably had concussion several times. I was bruised and battered on my chest, sides and legs, my upper arms and throat showing the distant s of his hand prints. My wrists were often red raw from being bound.
I was swollen and sore, even bleeding, from brute force or foreign objects.
My back and buttocks bore the marks of frequent lashings with a belt or telephone cable, but I kept coming back for more. I loved him, needed him, like I thought I would die without him! More likely I was going to die because of him. I was addicted to cocaine and drank heavily and he was self-medicating me with Valium.
After another coke-fueled night, I had taken offense at his accusations over me screwing other men to make my own money. I hit him hard in the face with the heel of my shoe. They are the dregs of society and have no care for you at all, fucking you in every hole their putrid cum seeping from every orifice their grubby hands touching your bare flesh. I lie there wishing to die. How can I endure this? The breath on my face as they heavy breathe on me.
The stench of sex un-washable from my body.
I really believe I could actually die from it. I was in an eternal hell. You are commenting using your WordPress. You are commenting using your Google. You are commenting using your Twitter. You are commenting using your Facebook. Notify me of new comments via. Notify me of new posts via. My is eight. Walk-ups I have been sent to a walk-up, after yet another huge fight leading to me hitting him in the jaw with my shoe.
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