Do You Really Want to Know

In this post, I will write my reality.

The reality that many say that they want to know – but continually block out however many times I say or write it.

I will write the reality of indoors prostitution inside my skin, smashing down into my brain – the reality that even when I numb it out, drives fierce sickness into every cell of my body.

I can say in even tones that indoors prostitution is torture, is a living hell – but those are just words.

Words that I constantly censor in order to keep my reader and followers on board.

But self-censorship is slowly killing me. Not because it heals any of my past to speak of some of reality – it does not heal any of that time.

No, I must speak my reality, for my reality is the norm for millions of women and girls trapped in indoors prostitution now, this moment you are reading my words.

My truths must be out there as part of the movement to end that torture – and give all those women and girls basis human rights.

I was introduced to indoors prostitution through extreme sadistic sex.

To understand that time is to know how dead so many girls are who caught by the sex trade.

I was gang-raped for about six hours.

Read and understand that sentence.

Gang-raped for about six hours – let yourself take that in. Pause and breathe – imagine who I was then.

Know I had no struggle, know I felt little pain, know I had accepted the unacceptable even before it had begun, know for me six hours felt like five minutes.

I was dead before the my clothes were off, I was dead before the first penis was down my throat and in my cunt, I was dead before fists were ramming my anus and vagina, I was dead before my head was smashed into the walls.

I was dead – but always I lived through every torture poured into me.

Look at that first time, know it – take it into yourself, maybe then you can feel compassion for all whores trapped indoors.

Know the first time made me know I was nothing.

I thought I had known that as my stepdad fuck me silently, on occasions saying other women’s names.

I thought I had known that as my stepdad tossed hard-porn at me to study.

I thought I had known that as I attempted to tell my Mum, only to be told “Don’t get pregnant”.

I knew nothing.

One night inside the sex trade, and I had found a place that I could belong to – a place that I be would owned and controlled, a place where pain and hate was my norm, a place where getting fucked beyond death was just named as my role – I belonged as all I could dream of was suicide.

But still, I knew nothing.

I thought I would have some control, I thought that some man would do me a favour and kill me, I thought it would be just sex, I thought I could leave if it got too much, I thought I understood.

God, I was so dumb and naive.

I had seen hard-core porn from aged six, but even then I did not think it could really be done to the human body and be survived.

Well, over many years, through many sadistic bastard’s porn fantasies, supplying profit out my agony – I know, I know as I am sick – the human body can be sexually tortured beyond pain and endurance and somehow there is no death.

But think – must humans are not killed just by torture, the tortured die from suicide or simple murder.

Women and girls inside the sex trade have torture as part of their existence, that men are entitled to tortured them, just please try to make some effort not to kill the whore – that would be too messy.

I know you say want to know what I mean by torture – but I also know in many ways, you don’t want to know.

But real change is brought about by truth having a voice. Not a voice that keeps away torture it had known, in order to be liked.

How do I say that time without detachment, without going pretty poetical prose to keep me away from then, without comparing with others and thinking it was not too bad, without wanting to go to blow up any flat where I know prostitute will be torture tonight, without wanting to get drunk.

I don’t know – all I know is to write and not to read it myself.

Well, all I can is to speak of is some of my middles – please know all I write is common practice in indoors prostitution, know all I write was repeated so many times onto my body and mind till it all merged, know it all was made acceptable by placing the sex trade into the leisure industry.

Know prostitutes are not considered to be tortured or even raped – just goods that are consumed.

It is acceptable to fuck a whore in every hole in her body. Not just the anus, mouth and vagina – but any holes there or made by the johns. I was fucked in my ear-drums, fucked in my eyes, had sperm coming out my nostrils.

A whore had no body, only a commodity to made into whatever porn is fashionable or historical.

Sperm is a weapon to men that use prostituted women and girls.

I had sperm rubbed into every cell of my body. Men rubbed into my skin and hair, squirted it into my eyes and down my throat till I was puking, sperm inside my vagina was relatively normal.

Hands are weapons to men that use prostituted women and girls.

Hands strangled me as a joke, fists went into my cunt, up my anus and down my throat, hands slapped onto beds and into walls – hands stroke me as if that made the sexual torturing disappear.

Mouths are weapons to men that use prostituted women and girls.

Mouths eat out the whore’s cunts, not eating but teeth tearing at her, not licking but pulling out all that delicate biology – make her bleed to prove what a man you are.

Of course, the penis is a weapon to men that use prostituted women and girls.

The penis sends death into her heart – and makes sure she has no hope.

The penis keeps her silent as it forced down her throat and cut out any voice inside her, penis forced into the anus send shock waves into the whole body and give her small heart attack, only she cannot die – penis in the vagina is a war to kill all whores.

There is no sex in prostitution – just complete control over her body and mind – and the john making the choice whether to wreck her, kill her or just to pretend to respect her.

That is what I mean by torture – is that what you want to know – or is it too much information.

Whores have for centuries keep the real information about torture silent inside their bodies and minds – well, I with others are made sick by that silence, it is killing us.

Everything I speak or say is the tip of a horrific iceberg, so have some respect and don’t turn away.

4 responses to “Do You Really Want to Know

  1. Silence kills. Do you know how many lives you may be saving by refusing silence ???May whatever kindly spirits of nature exist, wrap their soothing embrace around your soul.And keep on writing. I just found some tears !


  2. Yes we have to stop this torture. Im grateful to you for speaking even a tip of the truth of indoor prostitution. No one should ever have to endure this.


  3. it is not too much information. tell me everything there is to tell. i will hear it and absorb it. and it will give me even more resolve to help end this horrific “industry”.


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