Straight Female / 37
My Story,
As a rising senior in high school I was at the top of the world. Life was good, college was in my future, I had an inside summer job. Then without any warning my father walked away. He left my mom and me and my younger sister, he took a job overseas and we were left without a cent in the bank, the mortgage months overdue, same with the car payments, and credit cards. My mom had a part time job as a receptionist for a lawyer's office. We woke up poor, broke and in debt.
My mom's boss tried to make sense of it, my father had planned his exit, not paying bills for months, emptying out the bank account, getting a job and laving beyond the reach of the law for spousal and child support. The house was worth very little, he had refinanced a couple of years before and left very little equity, after sales cost and commissions my mom got less than ten thousand. He had a plan, we had no plan. My summer job felt like it is all that bought food.
A friend of my mother's, a casual friend, approached me and said she had heard about my dad. She could help, if I was open to a solution. And an open mind. She could introduce me to a woman who helped teens make college money, spending money, or help their families. This woman, after I signed a paper not to divulge the business to outsiders, including my mother. It was modeling, working as a hostess at parties. It was porn, nude photography, party girl for men, prostitution.
I got paid much more than minimum wage, mostly from prostitution. The nude modeling was impossible to trace, the photos disappeared on the internet, we got paid 100 for each modeling session. I dropped out of high school, moved to Las Vegas where the opportunities were better. Once I was 19 I only did prostitution, party girl. I lived with two other party girls, one who became my sexual partner. Not because we were lesbians, because we were not men and we could just love on each other. I was lucky, I never got hooked on anything, but most of the girls I met were.
After ten years I was used up, serving cocktails for tips, picking up a trick on the floor, my pimp kept me busy, pushing for more. My girlfriend had quit, returned home and she begged me to leave and go live with her. Finally one night I packed a suitcase of clothes, my birth certificate and got on a plane. My life as a prostitute was over, I was 31.
I work as a sales clerk in a women's store, we survived barely last year, live check to check. I am not proud of my past, at 17 I was a middle class girl, at 37 I'm an ex whore living hand to mouth with my girlfriend.
My mom's boss tried to make sense of it, my father had planned his exit, not paying bills for months, emptying out the bank account, getting a job and laving beyond the reach of the law for spousal and child support. The house was worth very little, he had refinanced a couple of years before and left very little equity, after sales cost and commissions my mom got less than ten thousand. He had a plan, we had no plan. My summer job felt like it is all that bought food.
A friend of my mother's, a casual friend, approached me and said she had heard about my dad. She could help, if I was open to a solution. And an open mind. She could introduce me to a woman who helped teens make college money, spending money, or help their families. This woman, after I signed a paper not to divulge the business to outsiders, including my mother. It was modeling, working as a hostess at parties. It was porn, nude photography, party girl for men, prostitution.
I got paid much more than minimum wage, mostly from prostitution. The nude modeling was impossible to trace, the photos disappeared on the internet, we got paid 100 for each modeling session. I dropped out of high school, moved to Las Vegas where the opportunities were better. Once I was 19 I only did prostitution, party girl. I lived with two other party girls, one who became my sexual partner. Not because we were lesbians, because we were not men and we could just love on each other. I was lucky, I never got hooked on anything, but most of the girls I met were.
After ten years I was used up, serving cocktails for tips, picking up a trick on the floor, my pimp kept me busy, pushing for more. My girlfriend had quit, returned home and she begged me to leave and go live with her. Finally one night I packed a suitcase of clothes, my birth certificate and got on a plane. My life as a prostitute was over, I was 31.
I work as a sales clerk in a women's store, we survived barely last year, live check to check. I am not proud of my past, at 17 I was a middle class girl, at 37 I'm an ex whore living hand to mouth with my girlfriend.
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