Life of a W.H.O.R.E.

The Purpose Of This Story

Some of you may be reading the title of this site, with a variety of thoughts coming in your head. Whether they be good thoughts, bad thoughts, negative, curious... I am going to tell a story of a period of my life that may bring you to tears, make you smile, or both.

I am strictly using this story as a therapeutic way of getting it off of my chest. I have spent so long holding my story in, comparing it to others and telling myself it isnt worth talking about... but because of a multitude of reasons, here i am, ready to talk about it. Maybe get some insight, maybe to let other people who might have the same story or similar that they arent alone, that their story is worth being heard.

I want girls all over who have been through things that have taken a negative toll on their life, to feel comfortable sharing those things. Even if they are embarassed, hurt, remorseful.. Ive come to realize, everyones story is worth being heard, and it is better to let it out, even if no one ever reads it, than to hold it in and let it destroy you.

This story is definitey going to have many different parts to it. Different topics. Mainly about the life i lived as a prostitute.. it is probably going to take a long time to get every part out into words for people to read. But I intend to not stop until my story is finished.

Chapter 1: Choosing Up

"Why didn't you just leave?"

The most commonly asked question i have received in the past four years. The most hurtful, confusing, and by far the hardest to answer. This question is most commonly asked by people who have not been through anything similar to what i have. So I don't blame them for asking. If i had never lived the life I lived, I would find the question very valid.

I think I had a confidence and independence issue for a long time before getting into prostitution. The moment I met the father of my two sons is when my standard of relationship choices began to plummet. I accepted things that weren't normal. I put up with infidelity, lying, emotional and mental abuse, and at the very end of the relationship with him, physical abuse. The relationship after him wasn't much different, it just progressively got worse as I got older.

Tre was very smooth in the way he approached me, and the way he got me interested in him. Our relationship was short, but it introduced me to a lot of negative things in such a short time. Again, lying, cheating, emotional and mental abuse, and later mild physical abuse. I remember the night I got a phone call finding out he was in jail. I started selling stolen alcohol bottles just to be able to put money on his phone account to talk to him.. I received a Facebook message and few days later from a guy named "C******* T********n". He wanted to buy some bottles and help bail Tre out of jail. I remember meeting with him at a 7/11 to give him the alcohol. He was dressed nice, button up shirt, tie, dress shoes and a fedora. He drove a white Cadillac. He ended up buying one bottle of patron, and a bottle of hennessey, $30 total. He gave me his phone number and told me to contact him once I found out how much bail was. Over the next few days he was talking to me, appearing to be in favor of me staying with Tre, but also trying to get his foot in the door as well and capitalize on the fact I was vulnerable. He did end up paying for Tre's bail. Paid in full. He was released later that day. With nowhere to stay, and nowhere to go, we ended up staying with Calvin's friend named Phil. In a garage of his uncles house. We slept on an old mattress. Calvin would come over every so often. We were short on money, so of course Tre went right back to stealing alcohol to try and sell for cheap. I went days without seeing him or hearing from him. He eventually ended up back in jail. I didn't know what to do. I didnt have any money, didn't have my own place to go. Didn't have my own car, I had nothing.

One night I decided to go out with some friends just to try and take my mind off of things. They were all drinking, i just hung out with them and laughed and walked around town with them. It was my friends boyfriends birthday. We went to a gas station called Towne Pump. I seen a lottery ticket that was neon pink and yellow, my two favorite colors. I asked someone to buy it for me, and they did. A $1 ticket. I ended up texting Jessica, who was Calvin's girl, and asking if I could stay at their house until Tre was released from jail. She said yes. They both ended up picking me up from the mall and taking me back to their house. I was timid. It was awkward being around them, the vibe was different than anything I had been around before. She was very nice to me, almost too nice. And he was very different. Again, something I hadn't seen before. He seemed to have a level of authority and respect that was abnormal. She called him "Daddy". Which I found weird. I always thought it was weird to call your boyfriend that..

The night I stayed there, Jessica went to sleep early. And Calvin stayed out in the living-room talking with me about Tre. Talk about Tre later led into the topic of what I was going to do with nowhere to go, no money, nobody to depend on, and no car. He brought up escorting. And why I hadn't ever thought about doing it before. To me, it was gross, and degrading. Out of the question to me. I told him and myself that I would never get into it. He kept pressing the topic and making my life sound like it wasn't going to go anywhere unless I did something drastic to change it. Change the things i was doing, and then eventually change my lifestyle. Get my kids back, get a nice car, a house. All of the things I knew I wanted and struggled to achieve, but because he was saying it, he made it sound attainable. He ended up going to bed, I decided to finally scratch off my lottery ticket. My jaw dropped as I scratched off the square that said "YES" under the amount of $5,000. I texted Calvin and told him I think I just won the lottery. He came out of his bedroom very fast and asked to see the ticket, Jessica followed. They both agreed that it was real, that I actually just had a winning ticket. Jessica went back to sleep and Calvin stayed, asking me what I was going to do with the money. Asked me if I wanted him to hold onto it for me until Tre got back. I told him no, that I barely knew him and I could keep it myself. He nodded in silence and went back to his room.

The next day, we woke up early, it was time for Jessica to start "working". We had to leave. We drove around town all day, him talking to me more about "the business" and how beneficial it could be to me. How well I would fit into it because I wasn't ugly. He made me feel pretty, a feeling I had lost over the past two relationships due to cheating and abuse. He took advantage of my vulnerability. When Tre got out of jail a few days later, I surprised him with the money. Gave it all to him. Every single penny. He was stoked. And after the night I gave him the money, he left me at Calvin's. Broke. Not a dollar in my pocket. No text messages or phone calls to communicate with me. Just gone, vanished. A few days had gone by, still hadn't heard from him. Just my luck, give someone everything I have, and I get left. It was the norm for me at that point. I decided to ask Calvin to drive me by Tres exes house. And he did, of course when we pulled up, Tre was there, outside with Vivian and her family, wrapped around her. My heart sank. It was one thing to suspect it, and another to actually see it first hand. I was sick to my stomach. We drove off, went back to Calvin's house. I was hysterical. I ended up texting Tre and telling him the only thing I wanted from the money was car seats for my sons and some clothes for them. He told me no, that the money was all gone. He had spent it. All $5,000. Within just a few days. I was pissed at that point. I told him to fuck off and that I never wanted to see him again.

The next morning he showed up to Calvin's house and told me to go on a drive with him. He was being oddly nice to me. So I got in the car, and once we got on the freeway, I noticed the smell of alcohol. He started cussing at me telling me how stupid I was, that I was a slut, a dumb bitch. I just sank in the passenger seat and cried. Trying to block him out. Then he finally asked me if I wanted to be with him, and I told him no. Not anymore. I asked him to let me out of the car, he said no and started driving much faster. By that time we were in salmon creek. Far away from Calvin's house where he had picked me up from. I started yelling at him to slow down and let me out of the car. He got off of the freeway and out into this empty col de sac away from any businesses or homes. He told me to get the fuck out, and I did. Wearing high heels, and crying, I got out and sat on the curb. He sped off, I seen a nearby building and walked fast over to it just in case he came back he couldn't find me. I ended up calling Jessica, crying, I asked her to come pick me up, that he had left me in the middle of nowhere in salmon creek. Calvin got on the phone and told me,

"If I come get you, then you're choosing up. I cant keep rescuing you and not getting anything in return. I've let you stay at my house for free, fed you, and made sure that you were okay, so if I come that means you're choosing up."

And I said,

"okay".

I remember standing on the top floor of the building, looking out the window and watching Tre drive around the cool de sac, calling me over and over again as if he was looking for me. I texted him and told him to leave me the fuck alone. And he drove off.. soon after Calvin and Jessica pulled up and I met them outside and got in the car. Calvin looked at me in the rear view mirror and said,

"I need to hear you say that you're done with Tre and that you're fucking with us now."

I told him the only thing I wanted was new car seats for my sons, and some clothes for them. He drove straight to Walmart, we picked out two brand new car seats, and some clothes. We went to my kids house, dropped them off and he gave Shelly $300 cash. Without me asking, just gave her $300. After spending some time with my sons, we ended up going back to his house, him and Jessica had plans, so I stayed home alone...

Within two hours, i was calling Calvin crying about how Tre was at the front door and knocking on the windows with a gun, telling me he was going to kill me. Calvin rushed back home and met Tre at the door. After inviting Tre in for a drink, he explained to him that he couldn't harm me, that I was his now, and if he harmed me that it would be a problem between them now. He agreed, smugly. And left a few minutes later.

And after that night, my entire life changed.

Chapter 2: Bruised and Beautiful

The nights after I chose up with Calvin were nothing like what I expected. I thought they would be "life changing", in a positive way. The first three days I spent with him all we did was play dominoes in the kitchen, but he would make me do dishes that I hadn't used, or make me clean up messes in the house, make him drinks, little stuff that I didn't think much of until now. Now when I think about it, he was molding me. To be submissive, to be the girl he wanted me to be, easily controlled. I hadn't actually started working yet for about a week after I chose up. The first week was spent with him trying to make me like him more, taking me to dinners, bringing me around all of his friends and introducing me to new faces. I remember Jessica went out of town I think to Seattle about two days after I chose up. Me and him ended up going to some club in portland, got all dressed up, he bought me an outfit to specifically match him, almost like it was a requirement. Made me button his shirt up, it became routine to make sure I lint rolled him before he walked out the door every day.

The night we went out, he drank a lot. But he maintained this goofy, fun demeanor. I remember we had to get a ride home from his friend because he was too drunk to drive and he told me I couldn't drive his car because I hadn't been around long enough. As if it was a privilege to drive his car.

When we got home, i was pretty tipsy too. I remember laying on the edge of the bed about to throw up. I remember getting up to go to the bathroom and coming back and he was standing up. I looked at him curious as to what he was up for and he grabbed me and pinned me on the floor, I thought he was joking for a moment, so I was smiling and kind of chuckling, thinking everything was fun. Then I seen a look in his eyes that was different from what I had seen all night. His eyes were almost completely black, his facial expression was nothing but angry, kind of evil. He started asking me really weird questions,

"Do you think you'll be around longer than Jessica? Are you going to make more money than her? Are you going to be the one who lasts until the end? Are you going to take her spot?"

I didn't know what to say. I was extremely confused as to where or why these things were being asked, I had only been around for a couple of days. Who was this person sitting on top of me looking me in the eyes with so much hate and anger? I could smell the alcohol radiating off of him, almost like he was sweating tequila. He was still waiting for an answer. As I began to speak, thats when I felt the first hit, I tried to move but he just sat on top of me with his full body weight, keeping me immobile. I looked at him confused and he hit me again, and again, and again. It seemed never ending. He finally paused after about five closed fist hits to both sides of my face. He told me,

"If you want to be my bottom bitch, then you need to be able to endure everything I've put Jessica through. Can you handle it?"

Again, I didn't get a chance to respond before he started striking again. I started crying, he told me to stop being weak, that I needed to toughen up. He mocked me as I sobbed. All I could think to myself was what I did to deserve this? Everything was fine all night. And now I'm laying on the ground getting punched in the face over and over again like I'm nothing. Before this night I had never been hit closed fist by a man. I was lost, confused, and really displaced. My face was hot, it went numb after a few more hits, I just put my arms down and quit trying to block him out. I just laid there, punch after punch until he finally stopped.. he climbed back onto the bed and told me to lay next to him, I rolled over facing the opposite direction from him, and just cried silently. Wondering what had just happened. It was almost unreal, like a very bad nightmare I couldn't wake up from.. eventually I drifted off into a light sleep.

Waking up the next day, with him tapping my shoulder, I hesitated to roll over and look at him for fear of what came next, but I did. His jaw dropped, he asked me what happened to my face. At that point, I was very confused. What do you mean what happened to my face? You fucking beat me. That's what happened. You punched me over and over again like your worst enemy.

I told him he hit me last night.

He laid his head on my stomach and apologized multiple times. I kind of just sat there in disbelief. Was he joking? Did he really not remember? How can you cause this much damage to someone and not have any remembrance of your actions. I asked him to move so I could go to the bathroom, I didn't know what to expect when I looked in the mirror, but I was in shock. My eyes were so swollen, I hadn't noticed how hard it was to open them, like when you cry hard over something all night, except mine were black because the swelling came from closed fists not hurt feelings. My cheeks were similar to a chipmunk, very swollen, purple in color. My forehead had a cut across it, also black and blue from bruising. My lip on the inside was cut open, I'm assuming from my teeth. I couldn't recognize myself. I leaned on the counter close to the mirror, touching parts of my face, trying to understand why it had happened. Trying to find my real face beneath the bruises, beneath the swelling. I couldn't find her. Who was this broken girl i stared at in the mirror?

He knocked on the door and I quickly wiped my tears so he wouldn't see them. I didn't want to trigger anything to happen again. Now, I was walking on eggshells. I no longer felt safe. What had I gotten myself into?

He grabbed my hand and apologized again, saying he must've drank too much and that he didn't know why he would ever hit me like this, then he asked if I did anything wrong. He asked if I said anything rude to him, if I gave him any dirty looks, if I had an attitude at all. He made me second guess myself. Did I do something wrong? Did I do something to make him mad enough to do this to me? I started replaying the whole night in my head looking for answers, I couldn't find any.. So I just told him I didn't think so. And after that he told me to get dressed that we were leaving, told me to put some makeup on and try to cover all of the bruises. So I did.

I remember trying to rub concealer on my face, and trying not to cry from the pressure of my fingertips on the bruises. Trying not to ruin the makeup I've done so far so I wouldn't have to start over. Even after lots of coverup, powder, concealer, and eyeshadow, I could see straight through it all. Makeup doesn't cover up swelling. It doesn't take the cut off of my forehead. Doesn't remove the memory from my mind. And it doesn't take away the sensitivity in my face. I just looked like a pretty, beaten girl.

We ended up at his friends house, his friend instantly looked at me and his eyes got big and he asked what happened. Calvin responded saying how he fucked up, how he got too drunk and he beat me. That I didn't do anything to deserve it, that he can't drink like that anymore. Then he made the comment,

"Now my money is going to be slow".

I was dismantled. Your money is going to be slow? How about the damage to my face you did? How about the pain you've caused me? The bruises that are going to take days to heal. I cant visit my kids looking like this, I can't see any friends, none of my family can see me like this. Now, I'm isolated. I cant tell anybody about this because what if he finds out? What if someone calls the police on him and he goes to jail? He would kill me. But all he cares about is the money? What happened to the nice guy I had been talking to for the past month? The guy who seemed so interested in me. The one who made me feel special. He was obviously gone. But for some reason, I stayed. I allowed it to be okay. I allowed myself to forgive him, to chalk it up as just a mistake, blame it on the alcohol.

It wouldn't happen again, right? Believing that, was my first big mistake.... and it was only the beginning.

Chapter 3: But Everyone Does It

How does a young person, who is still very uneducated on how the world works, confused about what people's real intentions are with them, get convinced to do something they said they would never do? Simple, normalize it. Convince them that everybody else does it, but that everyone else isn't benefitting from it the way that you can, by doing the exact same things.

At least that's how I was convinced. Having sex? Normal. Having sex with multiple people? Fairly normal. But let somebody mention money and sex in the same sentence, and watch how it becomes a completely different view. I was 1000% one of those girl's who laughed at other girls who were in the sex industry. How could they let life get them so down and out that they stoop to selling their bodies, something we are supposed to cherish and treat as a temple, for a couple hundred bucks?

Calvin convinced me with little to no effort. He had his way with words. I couldn't ever picture myself in a room with a man I've never met before, or never spoke to for more than a few text messages. He made it seem so easy, two questions. "How long?" And "What time?" Simple enough right? Easy for him to say. Being as that he was never in our position. Always was easy for him to set the rules of how things were supposed to go, how the texts and phone calls were expected go.

Rule 1- Answer every call. Because every call is potential money, and if you miss a call you missed out on his money.

Rule 2- No explicit conversation. Meaning if somebody texts asking about anything sexual, automatic block. If they try to get you to mention anything sexual or what services you provide, block.

Rule 3- Condoms always.

Rule 4- No GFE. (Girlfriend experience.) Meaning kissing, cuddling, no condoms.

Rule 5- Always get the money first.

Rule 6- Make every client feel like coming back. If they ask for something that makes you uncomfortable but isn't against the rules, suck it up and do it anyways because regular clients means regular money.

Rule 7- Never talk about "him".

Rule 8- NEVER give your location without "verifying" first.

These 8 rules were a part of my new daily routine. It used to be waking up, getting ready, and figuring out my day. Now when I woke up, I already knew what the plan was. Get your post ready, get your makeup and a decent looking outfit on, get in the car and go rent a hotel room for the day. At the beginning I was low key intrigued by it. There was an excitement, almost an addiction to being able to make $1000 a day, sometimes more, having sex. Something so simple. Something that was so meaningless to me. I was brainwashed into believing that having sex with different men was going to empower me. Because of how many text messages I received off of a few pictures they seen online, how I looked, how I dressed, how tiny my frame was, it was almost childish. I was convinced that I was actually wanted. It was easy, every text message that came in was a dollar sign to me. It either ended over somebody being explicit and asking a sexual question, which was supposed to get shut down immediately for the risk of it being a setup with the police. Or it went through and became a knock at the door and an awkward hour long appointment. After a few appointments, I got more comfortable, weirdly. I felt like I was desired, like I meant something, I was making great money so I must be worth something right? It gave me a sense of confidence. Lay down, have sex, get dressed. That's it, you're done. $150, $200, shoot maybe even $300. Which at the time was a lot to me. Especially from one person, when you're seeing about 6-10 people a day. I'm sure you can do the math. Some people worked two weeks to make what I made in a few hours, and that's how I motivated myself to keep it up. I became a money maker. Quickly. I was different from what was normally posted on the escort websites. Skinny, tattooed, long dark hair, and a flirty conversation.

Having sex was easy. Especially with these "tricks" as they were called. Most people would pay $300 to book an hour with you, and were gone in twenty minutes. It used to make me laugh that they'd be done so quickly, they became the laughing topic of conversation when I was with Calvin. Other clients would pay just to come and hangout, awkward conversation I couldn't have cared less about having. I couldn't imagine being as lonely as they must be, having to pay someone just to have somebody to talk to. Just made it easier for me to make fast money. I used to get nervous when I would get up to open the door when there was a knock, I never knew what to expect, but it seemed to be anxiety for no reason. Everyone was either weird or nice, but never rude or aggressive. I got to the point where I would whip the door open with a smile on my face because I became familiar with the fact that they were more scared of meeting me, than I was of them. Probably 70% of all the men I met with, were business professionals, they had lives, wives, families, and careers to uphold. The fear they experience meeting somebody for the first time, knowing it is very possible I could've been an undercover cop and their world would've been publicized on the news or in the paper for all of their peers and family to see, was unsettling for them. Which I grew to comprehend.

I remember during the day, Calvin used to check up on me to see how I was doing, to see if I was still safe, how much money I had made so far, if I had any other appointments set up. I used to love hearing from him. Because I became excited to tell him just how much money I had made. He used to pick me up from my hotel room in the evenings so I could come home and eat, shower, be normal again. First thing I did as soon as I sat in the car was hand him every dollar. He'd count it, it was all supposed to be facing the same way, organized. If it wasn't, he'd hand it back and make us fix it. He used to ask questions about the appointments we had, I thought it was normal at first but then it became weird. How big were they? Did they cum fast? Did anyone tip you? Any condoms break? Was anyone rude? Did you brush your teeth before you came? Basic questions that seemed to get asked almost everyday. He normalized my new sex life. I never knew a man you were with, could talk about you having sex with multiple men a day, sometimes having oral sex with them, and still care about you. It was new to me. How could you have a desire to have sex with a girl you know is having sex with six to ten guys every day, then coming home to you with whatever energy she has left to give. What about that inspires love? Must've been the money. In fact I know it was.

My beginning goals went out the window in a matter of weeks of working. I had started because I had nothing, no home, no car, no money, no nice things. Those were my goals, to get my own place so I could have my sons full time. Have a car, get a stable job, go back to school and have the money to pay for it. Live stress free for a few years while I got my life together. But it all changed when I got addicted to the fast lifestyle. Always having money, having a pink Mercedes Benz at the age of 19 and having it completely paid off. I was into the flashiness. I wanted to be seen. I wanted everyone to know just how good I was doing. I wore heels everyday, even just to go grocery shopping. It was typical of me. I didn't realize at the time that I was slowly being isolated. I found myself either in a hotel room or at home sleeping. Nothing else unless it was with Calvin. I remember a few times I had asked to go hangout with friends that I had known from childhood and was told unless they are paying me then I didn't need to. And my mentality eventually became just that. If it isn't making me money, then I don't want it. It didn't matter to me. I became isolated from friends, even family. I barely seen my kids anymore, because I was expected to be working as much as possible, to "build up the empire" to get to the point where "we wouldn't have to work anymore". But it was all bullshit, just a part of his plan to get me where he wanted. I knew I missed my kids and wanted to see them, but he had me convinced that being away from them was FOR them. So I could have more money FOR THEM. He pulled at my weaknesses for his own benefit. Made me believe I was actually doing good, when all I was doing was sinking my own ship very, very, slowly.

I was proud and I was empowered. By making money off of what everyone else did for free.

Chapter 4: Road Trip

I remember my first major road trip like it was yesterday. Apparently it was a yearly thing, to leave for about two or three months on a road trip. But this was my first one, and being as that I loved to travel, I was nothing short of ecstatic.

Arizona was on the itinerary. But not before we made our way down. First stop was Medford Oregon. I made ZERO dollars there. I was told because the tricks there liked girls with big boobs. Which has never been me. We stayed there for about three days, it was boring. I sat at the pool most of the day, or in the car hoping to get an appointment, at least one, so I could make him happy. Because I knew money had that effect on him. But nope, nothing came through.

Next stop was Eugene Oregon, another flop. I maybe seen three clients while we were there for two days. Probably made a total of $250.

California, my absolute favorite place on earth, was next. From San Diego, to Sacramento, to Palm Springs, and further down south. I made a lot of money in the sunshine state. And it was nice to be able to see palm trees again. Calvin and Jessica introduced me to a few new restaurants in California, we had made plans to go to Disneyland on next years road trip for Calvin's birthday. I didn't really care about it because I had been there so many times already. But oh well, he wanted to go.

When Jessica was in an appointment, since we shared a room with each other, I would go with Calvin while she was "busy". It was nice, we would drive around, or go eat, it seemed normal. Like having a boyfriend without the title. He used to want me to have my phone turned up all the way so he could know when I was getting a phone call, to know if I was purposely missing them or not. When he was around, I used to bullshit, because I wanted to hangout with him more. Have more time than Jessica did. Because we were in constant competition with each other and who was making the most money, or who got more time with him, who got to sleep with him at the end of everyday. Who he wanted to be around the most. It seemed like from the moment I came around, Jessica was put on the back burner, he made it seem like he hated being around her because he'd rather be around me. I later put the pieces together and that's just how he worked us against each other, how he made us hate each other so we wouldn't talk to one another and give away any secrets, find common ground with one another in our encounters with him alone. Because god forbid we find out we are going through the exact same things, good and bad. Because his "game" is so weak that he only has one play. Took me a while to realize that, but it happened eventually. I could tell that Jessica hated me, because Calvin was constantly picking me up to go places, taking me to eat, buying me clothes, letting me ride in the front seat even after not making money all day. It made her despise me. I remember hearing her arguing with him, crying, and asking why she's not getting attention when she's the one making more money than I am. Little did I know, I would soon be in her position. He responded with, "Because I have to make sure she loves me in order to make this work." That's honestly when I should've hit a realization point in my brain, but it went right over me. I thought that was a good thing. That he wanted me to love him. But now I know it was only so I would stay through whatever he decided to put me through. The abuse I was going to endure from being with him, the long days and late nights, the drugs I was going to get into, the heartache and suicidal thoughts I would have to cope with from being with him.

The drives in between states used to seem so long, especially when Jessica was mad. There was an elephant in the tiny Chevy impala we were all cramped into. And it didn't work very well. They used to get into huge arguments in the car, I remember sinking down into my seat when he would get right up next to her ear and be yelling at her like he was fully enraged, his voice was deeper, every word had a growl. But thankfully, it wasn't towards me at the time. I never used to feel bad for her until I started paying closer attention to the way he really treated her. He was just downright evil. I sat in the same room multiple times when he would beat her up, and I would just put my head down in my knees trying to take myself somewhere else, to stop hearing her cries pleading for him to just stop, because he had drank far too much. Her go to thing to say when he would hit her is "I'm not gonna be able to make you money if I'm beat up." And it never worked. He didn't care. After it was all over we would come up with some cookie cutter excuse to use as to why her face was black and blue. Why she had bruises on her arms. And she still made money the next day. Still handed him every penny. And still had a desire to feel his body next to hers every night, and hate me for every-time she went without it.

When we finally got to Arizona, I was so happy. It was hot, even at nighttime. I loved my hotel, it was somewhat secluded with a bathtub, and a very nice hot tub I spent my nights in after working all day. But I was most excited to finally see my mom. I hadn't seen her in a very long time, I think it was when my son turned one. So I was happy, but also my nerves were through the roof. What was she going to think of me? What would she say? Does she still even want to see me, or is she just doing it because I wanted to see her? Guess we would find out.

I remember eating at Lolos Chicken and Waffles, one of my favorite places in Phoenix. It was myself, my mom, and her boyfriend. There was an unspoken awkwardness at the table. Simple conversation came from our lips but we all knew there were more thoughts to be said. Eventually when we were done eating, we went out on the back porch area of the restaurant to talk. I almost knew what was coming before I sat down. She was going to try and ask questions about Calvin, whether or not I was safe, was I being forced, did I want to leave? She was going to try and convince me to quit it all.

What came next was almost like an intervention, the very questions I had dreaded were exactly what I received. I felt like I was trapped in an interrogation. But what kept me sitting down was the fact that it was my mom, the woman who birthed me, who tried her best to do everything in her power for me. As she sat there and cried, I tried to choke back my own emotions and appear as strong as possible. I had hardened up since being with Calvin. How could I not? It took masking my true feelings to be able to maintain a false reality with him. From the excessive amounts of abuse I was enduring, to the dramatic lifestyle changes I was experiencing, the drugs, the alcoholism in my home, multiple girls, a pimp and hoe relationship. It was ALL new to me. Tears streaming down her face, I was numb, empty, I just kept repeating to myself in my head "She didn't cause this. Please don't let her leave here thinking my lifestyle is her fault. I chose this on my own, not her." It's almost like time was frozen, but seeing everyone's mouth moving proved otherwise. I snapped out of my trance when she pointed out the fact that I wasn't crying with her. And that got to me. Because any time in the past, my mom crying would've instantly brought tears to my eyes because I hated seeing her hurt. I knew her pain was because of me, the fear of having to plan a funeral was very real. She told me of shows she was watching on Netflix about women who were in prostitution and were constantly abused, on drugs to cope with the lifestyle, I lied when I told her it wasn't me. I wanted so badly for her to have some sort of comfort believing that I wasn't like those tv shows, even though I knew better. I was exactly like them, trapped with an abusive pimp, who claimed I could leave whenever I wanted, but instilled so much fear into my heart that it was a trap. My mom was disappointed in me. She offered to help, offered to get me away from him and help me leave safely. I declined. And to this day I am full of regret when I think back to it. I still beat myself up over the fact I allowed my mom to be so scared of losing her daughter. I love her so much and all I ever wanted to do was be like her. But this was not the way to achieve that...

We parted ways with still an unsettled reality. I was going back to my risky lifestyle, and she went home to pray for my safety. That I'd maybe change my mind and dwell on everything that was said. I went back to my room where Calvin ended up meeting with me. I lied every word to him when he asked me how everything went. I told him great, that my mom was super happy to see me. That she didn't ask me any questions, it was almost normal. She didn't mention you, as I let the words fall from my lips I almost shed a tear bearing the weight of my moms pain on my shoulders. But I didn't dare tell him what was really said. What would he do? Would I never see my mom again? Would he beat me up? Quite possibly either one. The rest of the trip was pretty heavy for me. Constantly replaying the lunch in my head. Why couldn't I just leave? It wasn't as bad as everyone thought it was, was it? I guess you turn a blind eye to the things that cause the most pain when all you're trying to do is survive it. And that's what I was trying to do, win, and survive at the same time.

Chapter 5: A Mother’s Heart

Since I can't put into words the way my mother felt the first time looking at me after finding out the lifestyle I was living, I asked her to do it. So here are some heartfelt, emotional, very honest words directly from her.

The Stranger In Front Of Me

There she was, long brown hair wearing a peach skirt, a cute ivory top and 6″ heels.  She looked familiar, like someone I had known for years and yet she was a stranger. Her eyes were empty and lacking the light of happiness and hope.  Such a beautiful young woman with a depth of emptiness I hadn't seen before. She smiled when she saw me but it wasn't a real smile, more like one of those half smirks you give because it's expected, not because there's true joy inside shining through to your exterior.

     As a parent we spend a multitude of days questioning the decisions we make and the guidance that we provide, hoping and praying that our children will grow up to be good people, that they will find happiness and a passion for life and ultimately that they will just be better people than we could ever be.  And at this moment I found myself asking "what have I done?".  How did I manage to be such a horrible mother that my daughter would feel that the only way she could find love and acceptance would be through selling her body for money?

    I worked a lot while she was growing up, I worked to a fault. Partly because I felt I was the only one I could depend on to financially provide for our family. But that wasn't the only reason I spent so much time at work, away from home, away from my child. Work was always an escape for me, a way for me to escape my toxic marriage, a way for me to be truly "seen" for the woman I was. My identity came from how successful I was at my job, what title I held, how much money I earned.

     And yet, right now, in this moment staring at the empty

shell of a woman standing in front of me none of that seemed to matter. The flood of guilt and poor decisions that I had made through the years slapped me in the face as hard as a brick wall.  The most important job that I had on this Earth, loving my child, teaching her that she is a wonderful, smart, strong confident woman was the one job I was a complete and utter failure at. How could I let THIS happen?

   I remember asking her why? Was she using drugs? Was her Pimp making her do these things? Did she need my help to get out, to escape? I downloaded photos of beaten, bruised women trying to "scare" her into sanity. She kept telling me this was her choice. Calvin wasn't making her do anything she didn't want to. THIS was the only way she could make enough money, and fast, to get her boys back. She wanted to buy a home, go back to school. Turning Tricks was just "temporary". I was devastated, a piece of my soul shriveled to nothing. I refused to believe that she was doing this of her own free will. She kept giving reasons of why it wasn't all that bad. The guys were nice to her. Hell, sometimes they'd pay just to talk and not even have sex. I tried to wrap my head around how she was doing this 4, 5 or 6 times a day. Like a mad woman I tried everything I could think of to talk her out of this lifestyle. Math calculations to show exactly how many men she was degrading herself for, painting pictures in her mind of her 2 boys finding out what she was doing for a living and how she would explain it, Aids scare,  STD scare, death scare! None of it phased her. My boyfriend and I sat with her on the patio of her favorite restaurant, grilling her, trying to get her to see the light. Letting her know how much we loved her and that we'd help her run away. I was in tears, damn near begging and pleading. Tears of worry followed by outbursts of pure anger, it didn't matter. She was numb. She was watching my lips move but she wasn't hearing any of it. I told her "you're numb, in the past if you'd seen me cry you'd be shedding tears right along with me and I'm sitting here right now in front of you balling and you have not one tear in sight". I even told her, you need to get your affairs in order, put on paper who the boys go to in the event something happens. I looked at her sternly and told her if she didn't get out of this lifestyle I would be burying my child in the next year, and I whole heartedly believed I would.

Chapter 6: Recruiting

How do you know when you've lost all sense of right and wrong? Or at least the desire to care? When money becomes more important than someone elses well-being.

I became so wrapped up in money, having nice things, being flashy, and making this "man" happy, that I became a completely different person. I was no longer caring, and compassionate, didn't care about others and how they felt. Just me, and my situation. Which made it easier to speak with other females and try to recruit them. It was tough though because every interested girl you achieved, there were thirty before her that said no. The point was to try and get these girls to feel like the option of becoming a hoe, let alone to pick YOUR man to give all her money to, was going to be more beneficial to her than what she was currently doing. Just like it had happened to me. I became blind to the lack of emotion and self respect that it took to be able to do what I was doing. I remember adding a bunch of random girls on facebook, always posting stacks of money, vacation pictures, videos of my car. It was all bait. Everytime someone inquired, I was on them until they told me flat out that they werent interested. I was trained to be persistent and vicious.

I remember the first girl I ever got to choose up with us. Her name was Kara. She seemed super trashy on facebook. All of her posts, all of her pictures. They depicted this girl who looked so happy, when really she was weak and vulnerable. After two days of messaging back and forth, making sure she knew the whole rundown of how things would be. That every dollar went to him, that we would work together, and that was it. She agreed to everything. The next day, we bought her a plane ticket to Arizona. Days after my visit with my mom. If she only knew, the person i had become.

When Kara landed, we hugged and immediately clicked. I had never met her before in my life, but it was my job to make her feel as comfortable as possible, so she would stay. She appeared very excited. Her personality seemed very ditzy. Which quickly became annoying to me. She acted as if she had zero common sense, attention seeking. We were in a two bedroom hotel at the time. So me and her shared one room, and Jessica had the other one. Jessica and Calvin were fighting about the entire situation of flying Kara out to arizona on such short notice without even knowing her. It was a risk, and now I understand what her real concern was.

Calvin ended up sleeping in the living-room that night. Him and Jessica had gotten into a huge argument before bed, so everyone was "punished" by not being allowed to sleep with him. After everyone was in bed, I woke up in the middle of the night and went out and laid down with him on the couch. I expected to just lay with him for a while and then go back to bed, not be forced into something i didnt sign up for..

As we were laying on the couch, he started to get rough, he was grabbing my throat, pressing hard. Trying to be sexual, but it was way too rough for me to be comfortable with it. I was trying to play everything off like I was cool with it, I know he had been drinking that night, and after the argument with Jessica, I didn't want to be the next target for his rage. I remember him grabbing me by my throat and whispering for me to go get Kara, and wake her up. I asked why, and he tilted his head as if I wasn't supposed to ask, just do it. So I slowly got up and went to wake her up. She asked me what was wrong and I told her nothing, that Calvin had wanted her and was in the living room waiting. When we both walked out there he was sitting up in the middle of the couch, he told us both to sit next to him. One on each side. Immediately he started grabbing Kara by her throat as well, asking her if she was going to stick around, if she was going to make him money and listen to what he said, she responded with laughs and yeses. He looked at me and smirked, squinted his eyes at me, and got up. Told us to be quiet and waved us to go back in the bedroom we were sharing.

The moment after we got in the room, he shut the door behind him and told us both to get on the bed. To take our clothes off, and be quiet. I was confused, this girl hadnt made a single dollar for him yet. Was he really about to have sex with her? She was excited. He was intrigued. I was nervous. Too scared to say no and walk out. He told me and Kara to start kissing. All that ran through my mind was regret. Why had i gotten in contact with this girl? Why did I ever agree to fly her out? I choked back tears. He was right next to the bed watching, taking his clothes off, touching himself. Finally, he bent her over the edge of the bed, and immediately started to have sex with her, she was loud. He told her to shut the fuck up. Covered her mouth. She thought it was all fun and games, meanwhile I felt like I was being raped. I was next. She sat there and watched, smiling grimly. I kept my head down, praying for it all to just be over. For him to hurry up and get out so I could just get dressed and forget about it all. How could Iforget though? He stopped for a moment to take his phone out of his jeans. The room was hot, muggy, and heavy. I wanted out. But I knew if I caused Jessica to wake up and find out what was going on, there would be hell to pay. He began recording everything, taking pictures. His own personal porn to keep in his book of secrets. I was absolutely disgusted. You think of a threesome as a mutual agreement between all participating parties. But i hadn't agreed. I distinctly remember getting up and sitting against the wall, watching him thrust into her like a monster. He looked back at me like a demon and smiled, I just shook my head and put my head between my trembling legs. Not only was I disgusted, I was hurt. Is this how he was with all new girls? Is this part of his tricks to get us all to stay? Did Jessica go through this? How many times? How could she ever be okay with this? How could I ever be okay with this?

Finally, he was done. He put his clothes on, peeked through the door to make sure Jessica wasnt out there, and walked out. Kara looked at me and laughed, asking what had just happen. I just got dressed and laid down, completely ignoring her. Crying silently as I tried to forget. But it was on me. The room smelled of deception and guilt. I wanted out so badly. Just to walk outside and never come back. I felt like a child who was scared of the dark. I worried about if he was going to come back. He didnt even say anything when he left the room. Eventually, I went to sleep and was finally at peace.

Waking up in the morning was awkward. Kara was all over Calvin from the moment she woke up. Calling him "Daddy" every time her mouth opened to speak to him, rubbing his back, laughing at everything he said. Jessica looked confused. Wondering why all of a sudden, this girl who just got into town, is so comfortable already. Little did she know, that girl had already gotten more than she was supposed to. I kept quiet, trying to remain normal, not giving off any signs of being uncomfortable. I got in the shower, it was so relieving to wash away all of the memories that stuck to me from the night before. I closed my eyes and began to cry again. Wondering if it was all going to happen again. I no longer wanted her there. I no longer wanted to recruit other girls. I wanted to go home. Be in my own room, in my own space, to cover up the emotions that were weighing me down.

I remember making $900 in a few hours that day. It brought me back to reality. The goal here was to make money. Maybe if I made more than her, hed send her home, then I wouldn't have to worry about it again. His motto was always "you cant weigh more than you pay." Meaning you being present in the situation, buying food, hotel rooms, clothes, anything else, couldnt equal more than what you were making. Because then you were making him lose money, not gain. So my goal was to make it seem like she wasnt benefitting us. I started to team up with Jessica, telling him that Kara was slow, that she was denying calls, wasnt making any money, trying to rule her out of the equation. And it worked. After about four days of her only making a couple hundred a day, he paid for her to go back home. Told her that he would meet with her when we got back into town, and she could go work out there to prove to him she was serious. I was at ease, I didn't have to worry about being forced into something like that again. She was gone. But even though she was gone, I was left with the memories and flashbacks. They drove me crazy. I just kept picturing myself sitting on the floor watching him with her. It made me sick to my stomach all over again. I was physically weak, making money and sleeping were the only times my mind didnt go back to that moment. I wanted to shoot myself, just to stop thinking about it.

Never again, I kept repeating to myself.

Never, again...

Chapter 7: Gorilla Pimp

Gorilla Pimp

(noun)

1. A pimp who controls his victims almost entirely through physical violence and force.

I learned what a gorilla pimp was the hard way. I wasn't even familiar with the term until I was living in its presence. I remember when I first became a part of Calvin's situation, he always told me that if I wanted to leave him at any point, he would let me go freely because he wasn't a "gorilla pimp". At the beginning that was always reassuring. Of course until all of the abuse came into play, then I was more fearful of the truth in that statement.

The first time I ever tried to leave wasn't even a year after being with him. I think maybe about eight months. By that time I had already been around enough drinking and abuse, to feel like it was just normal life. It had been a growing decision. Not something I just decided overnight. I remember feeling a sense of loneliness, hopelessness, anger. Like a ticking time bomb. I had suppressed my emotions for far too long.

The day I tried to leave is the most memorable attempt. I remember he was mad at me because I was having an attitude with him all of the time. I stopped bowing down to him to an extent and he was catching on. Him and Jessica were preparing to go to the birthday party of one of his close friends. They got all dressed up, I remember Jessica was wearing a low cut dress, she was absolutely gorgeous when she got all dressed up. Couldn't even recognize her. As usual, he wore a suit and tie, fedora, and dress shoes. We didn't speak much before he left, in fact I was at my hotel room and they were at home. I remember him texting be saying to be safe and have a good night. I had his car because he wanted to take mine to the party. I was texting making plans to go to my friend Alleys house. She was a very close friend. I let him know I would be going over there once I hit a few appointments. I wasn't hearing back from him much after they got to the birthday.

After a few hours of appointments, I let Alley know I was on my way to her house. When I got there I parked on the side of the house, I was there to try and clear my mind, I had been having thoughts of leaving Calvin for a few weeks before that night. I wanted to get away. Should be easy right?

I was at alleys for a few hours, but shortly after I got there I got a text message from Calvin, and I immediately knew he was drunk. He was asking me how much money I had made that night, getting mad at me for being at a friends house instead of making HIS money. I argued back, finally hitting a point of rage where I admitted to wanting to leave him. The tone of the conversation changed almost instantly, he started texting me saying that he didn't want me to leave, what could he do to get me to stay? If I really want to leave him, then I can, but he doesn't want me to. I was confident, I stuck to my choice of wanting to leave. After a little bit of time, I decided it was time for me to go home and start packing my stuff. So when he came back with my car I could just be ready. I realized I didn't have the keys to his car. I began to panic thinking I had lost them. How mad he was going to be that I lost his keys. He was already mad that I was at her house.. now he would have to go get the spare and bring it to me. When I texted him telling him I needed the spare key, he reverted right back to being an asshole. Telling me he shouldn't be doing me any favors since I'm leaving him and that he should just make me walk home, then finished with saying that he was a gentleman so he wouldn't do that to me. But told me I would have to wait until he was done.

It wasn't long before he came with the key to get his car. I wanted to ride with Jessica, but he made me drive his car back, and he rode with me. I was tense in the car, like I was waiting to get slapped or punched out of nowhere. He told me again, that he didn't want me to leave. His voice was soft. Asked me if I was sure about my decision. Because he wants to marry me, and he already told Jessica. I just remained silent. Clenching my jaw anxiously. When we pulled up to our house I immediately got out and went in the house. He slammed the door behind him, told me to sit on the couch, and asked Jessica in front of me, "Didn't I tell you I want to marry her?" I looked at her, and she started to cry, nodding her head yes. He opened the back door and lit a cigarette, called me over to the door and asked me again, if I was going to leave, even after him telling me he wants me to stay. I couldn't even look at him, I just nodded in fear.

I went to sit back on the couch and he slammed the back door closed. He started yelling and cussing at me about how he couldn't trust me, that if he let me leave I was going to snitch on him and have him put in prison. He grabbed me by my hair, I tried to get his hands lose but I couldn't, he dragged me across the living room floor and started ripping my sweats off, saying that he bought them and I didn't deserve to wear them. He started punching me in the back of my head, I kept yelling at him to please just stop and let me go. He finally let go, but leaned down to get into my face, so close I could smell the Patron he was drunk off of. He was talking through his teeth, jaw clenched tight to where I could barely understand him. Saying he should kill me, because he has one strike left and he can't let me be the reason he spends life in prison. I crawled over to the couch trying to avoid him, he walked over to the other couch and reached under it, pulling out the AR-15 he had just bought.. he quickly jumped over to me and started hitting me with the end of it, yelling at me calling me a snitch, a bitch, disloyal, told me that he was going to kill me. At that point Jessica was trying to pull him back away from me as I tried to cover my head with my arms to block the gun from hitting me. She kept repeating that if he killed me he would go to prison, that I wasn't worth it, to just let me go. He wasn't listening. He continued to yell at me, he told me to look at him, multiple times until I finally lifted my head, I felt the cold of the barrel touch my forehead, as he cocked the gun back, I began begging and pleading with him to just let me go. Then I started praying out loud, just asking for God to get me out of this house alive, begging for him to just let me go. Tears were streaming down my face like a waterfall. I was sure this was the night I was going to die. He backed up and started laughing, I peeked up at him and he pulled the clip out and showed me that the gun wasn't even loaded. He burst into laughter, and told me to go pack my shit and get out. I trembled as I got up, I grabbed my pants and timidly walked up the stairs to my room. I could barely think, Jessica came in with garbage bags and started helping me put my things in them. She told me we needed to hurry because he was drunk and it may happen again. I just cried, and cried. My mind was everywhere, I almost just died. What kind of psychopath does that to someone, and then laughs hysterically about it? I was in total disbelief. We hurried and got most of my clothes bagged up, walked quickly downstairs and started to load up her car. I knew I wasn't leaving with my car. I didn't even want to try and ask at this point, I just wanted out. Jessica drove me to my grandmas house which wasn't far away. I went into the house and didn't say a word to her, just climbed into her bed and cried myself to sleep. She stood at the door and spoke with Jessica, trying to ask what happened. Jessica reassured her that if she hadn't been with him, he probably would've killed me.

I woke up in the morning with a swollen face, my hair was tangled up, eyes swollen, bruises on my neck, my arms were bruised from blocking the hits of the gun. I had a cut on my forehead, a huge lump in my hair. I just cried as I looked in the mirror. Sad and broken, thankful that I wasn't dead. My grandma tried to talk to me about it but I wasn't ready. I checked my phone, no text messages, surprisingly. I reached out to my sons dad, and he happened to be having a visit with them at the park, and I told him I was going to meet him there.

When I got to the park, he took one look at me and instantly started asking questions. Saying he was going to kill Calvin, why was I sticking around with him and putting up with his shit. Told me I should call the police. Why would I call the police? He would surely finish what he had started. I stopped answering questions and just tried to stay calm, trying not to cry anymore. I was tired of crying. Tired of feeling weak. Tired of being a punching bag because someone couldn't handle their alcohol. Did I deserve it? At this point I was so disgruntled, I didn't know. All I wanted was to be free from him. And I finally got it. But then I started to think about how I had no money, no vehicle, no place to live, only bags of clothes. What was I going to do? He took everything from me. I started to feel isolated, like the only option was to be with him... but fuck that, how could I remain with someone who had a gun to my head less than 12 hours ago?

I ended up returning to my grandmas house, it was awkward, lots of unanswered questions and curiosities. I was just alone in my head. Trying to figure out what I was going to do to get on my feet by myself. But I couldn't see past the flashbacks. Like I was free falling into a black hole. And then my phone dinged. And my mind cleared....

"I'm so sorry, please text me back, I love you.."