I See You

I write this post to say how I saw punters.

I speak from trauma, I speak from hate, I speak from all the pain punters put inside me.

To end prostitution, we must what punters have chosen to become.

We must named as criminals, as serial rapists, as sadists – and by calling them out we are on the road to freedom for the prostituted.

I am sick and tired on the focus being keep on the prostituted, and the punters disappearing into the shadows.

All damage, all harms, all trauma is placed into the prostituted by the selfish behaviour of punters.

Let’s start, by getting the basic of prostitution straight.

All punters can make the choice to never again buy another human for his sexual wants and greed.

It is the punters who make the choice whether to rape, torture or mentally abuse the prostituted – therefore it is always the punter who holds the power.

Those basics are there in all aspects of prostitution.

It must made clear it not stigma, not the place, not laws that is raping, torturing and murdering the prostituted – it is mainly punters.

So, as I look back on punters – I see the constant terror of knowing violence was always round the corner – that there was no hiding place from their sadism.

I have know the dead eyes of the sadist, touch their evil.

To know that cruelty – is to know deep despair, to hold your body tight to stop some of their torturing getting through, to survive by losing humanity.

To see their eyes that freeze you to the bone, eyes that command you with no words or even violence.

Dead eyes that made into a robot – into a being that was undressed and lying frozen with only holes to be poke, skin to be polluted and a mind that had to run away.

I see punters – and I know how they saw me and all the prostituted.

They never saw who we were, they never saw we had any life outside their porn dreams.

We were there to be fucked, to be hit, to be spoken at, to held out as a status symbol, to killed, to be thrown away.

As punter Charlie Sheen stated

“I pay for them to go away.”

Punters enjoy knowing by paying in money or gifts, he does not need to know or care about the prostitute – just consumed and then return for other men to consume, until the prostituted is used out and dispose of.

Prostitutes are seen by punters as they see any other consumable goods, say like entering a supermarket.

There is no human in a prostitute to a punter – no messy caring about her feelings, her background, whether she is safe or not.

No, as consumable goods – the prostitute can be poked, ripped at, eaten out, torn at, made to be tied or hung, strangled, mentally abused, beaten, have objects shoved into all her holes etc – with the knowledge is nothing.

There can no pain, if there is no human to know pain.

There is no terror, if there is no human to feel that fear.

There can no harm done – for it just an object being used.

This is how all punters justify their violence – by saying there is human, so therefore there is no violence.

That is why there can never be any safe place to be prostituted – there is no forms of prostitution that can be made safe, no way to regulate a safe way to prostituted.

The only way to bring safety to all the prostituted – is to stop the punters having the entitlement to buy and consume the prostituted.

We must put the focus on that demand – for that it the source of all the violence done to the prostituted.

We must know punters are everywhere, are much more common than we want to believe.

Punters are your brothers, your fathers, your close friends and relatives, your workmates, your teachers, your doctors, the police, men in human rights groups, men who are religious or atheists – just very ordinary men of all ages, backgrounds and beliefs.

Violent punters do not look any different from other men – and most outside the sex trade world, will be liked and seen as decent men.

A sad truth is that many if not most sadist punters save all their violence and hate for the prostituted – and would disgusted if that violence was done to non-prostituted women or girls.

I have sat in rooms with punters who condemn child rape – after knowing I was under-aged, wanting me young to screw and beat up – punters who would hung child rapists.

I have been tortured by punters for hours, keep imprisoned by punters for weeks, and been in near-death experiences with punters – who I have seen being supportive and kind to their girlfriends, or have spoken out loudly for human rights for all women.

The sickness all the prostituted have to carry – is having to living with the punter’s hypocrisy.

If all the prostituted scream out at all those “good men” who have torture or rape them – the world would be ripped in half.

A myth about punters is just a few men consume the prostituted.

This makes no sense.

For the majority of long-term prostituted women have been in the sex trade for at least seven years – and most have a minimum of four punters a year – to hundreds or thousands of punters consuming them.

It is rare to see a punter more than once – so it is impossible the a small percentage of men make the choice to be punters.

I lost count of how many punters consume – just know it was so common that they all become one.

I cannot write any more.

Power Trip

I am writing to and about the punters who believe their power, status and money makes them invincible.

This blog post was pushed into my brain by the reports about Charlie Sheen and his latest shaming of the prostituted.

Charlie Sheen is just one of thousands if not millions, of rich entitled men who consume the prostituted in order to torture them

Yes, I name their actions as torture, their torturing makes these punters criminals pure and simple.

Only we make the choice to place rich men in all cultures above the law.

We choice to ignore or minimise rich men in the entertainment business who buy the prostituted in order to have sadistic sex.

We excuse the violence against prostituted women and girls used in sexual tourism by rich men from many backgrounds.

We shut our eyes to businessmen consuming the prostituted as a leisure activity.

We make trivial when sportsmen are violent to the prostituted.

We have made a culture where all rich men have the entitlement to used the prostituted as slaves.

Charlie Sheen was surrounded by that culture – a culture that refuses to say no to men like him.

So, we cannot be shocked at the sadist behaviour of these punters – instead of acting against their entitlement, we have made a society that has short term pangs of guilt – but in the long term, looks away.

Let me speak to my and other’s experience of being inside that entitlement.

I cannot know all, only what my body knows, only what exited women speak to ourselves, and only through brave prostituted who speak out in public.

I know enough about rich punters – to know those men have no fear of arrest, see no human in the prostituted, and have the mind-set of de Sade that the prostituted are his to kill or torture any time and in any place.

From personal experience, I know that the rich punters that consumed me never saw me, never wanted to know I was human – I was goods they used and tossed back into the sewer.

These were the punters that pay to torture me physically, mentally and sexually.

These were the punters who laugh about killing me, and knowing they could make my death into nothing.

These were the punters who offer travels as long as I did not care I must stay their sex slave, or care to be exchange as sexual goods to promote his career.

These were the punters who wore prostitutes like trophies – only to batter, rape and torture the prostitute when away from the public gaze.

Charlie Sheen was and is one of those punters – he is very typical.

We must stop making status and power making male violence invisible.

Please think what it is to prostituted with a rich punter who has no fear of punishment, no interest in the mental/physical welfare of you, and a punter who can buy his way out of all troubles.

Just imagine, being in a hotel room with that punter.

Would you feel empowered, in control – or would become a robot hoping not to be too badly hurt this time?

It is shut away in hotels rooms, in the properties of rich punters, on their boats and planes, and inside private clubs – sadism is all round us, but money makes it invisible.

I find it hard to write to and about these punters – for though they are my past – I still have the terror they put in me, still feel sick as my body knows their tortures they left as my legacy.

All I know is I have a deep hatred to rich entitled punters.

These are men who have become leaders, men who do family entertainment, men who make laws to control us, men who perform sports that I love, men who create music that relaxes me, men who are artists, men who work for human rights agencies and so many other powerful men.

These are punters that the prostituted are afraid to name, for they fear disbelief or a general shutting downs of their witnessing.

But we must speak out – say all ways that men get power, status and become the rich – is used as a weapon against the prostituted.

Charlie Sheen is just the tip of massive iceberg.

This is My Work

I want to explain why I am asking for donations and respect from my readers.

I write this blog not as a hobby, not as therapy and not always when I feel well.

I write this blog for it is my work – and being my work I think it deserve to be paid.

I have written this blog for about eight years, and have written through trauma.

This blog is written to explore that trauma – and give hope and understanding about trauma after prostitution.

This blog knows deep grief, understands torture, remember being made into sexual goods, carry fury in a safe way, and is written through pain of decades.

That is why it is work – the hardest work I can imagine.

Writing with the trauma of the prostituted, is exhausting, painful and like pushing a boulder up Everest.

So, I asked if those of my readers who use my work to educate, communicate to others, quote or use for research – have the grace to ask full permission.

I think it be good if you use my words or views in your work or research – that you should send me a donation.

Say £3-£5 if you use a blog research for education or research.

£1-£3 for quoting my work, especially to a wide audience or for education

My work is unique – and it highly disrespectful to take my words without my permission or knowledge.

I am delighted that my work is being used for education and to further action for abolition of the sex trade.

But my work is not done for free – it affects my trauma getting no reward or status for my hard word.

I am an expert, I have a unique insight and way to form words – I have left being a survivor and now considered myself as a writer.

I hope you can respect that.


I know that many readers of this blog use and share my work.

I want to say that if you use my work as an educational tool, especially on the professional level or several times – please ask my permission. And if you use it as an educational tool, please donate to my blog.

If you quote my blog, please link back to my blog, and give me full credit. Also if you quote on a regular basis, please donate to my blog.

If you share my work, always give a link to my blog and credit to my work.

I am a writer as a job, just not getting wages – so when you use my work, have full respect.

Why We Fight

I write this for all my exited friends and colleagues.

I write this for all the exited folks I have not meet or know.

I write this for all the prostituted who are struggling to exit.

I do not write for those outside that world, but I am deeply honoured if you get even a small piece of understand through my work.

I write as a radical exited woman – not as a feminist, not from my Leftist background, not coz I am lesbian.

No my words and ideas were forged in the hell that is the sex trade.

My concepts were made from being made nothing, from knowing rape beyond rape, from the inside of the tortured.

I see the world through eyes that had known what the brain wants to reject.

I have known what evil man can do the female body, and somehow she does not do.

To be prostituted, is to understand the wordless horror of all the tortures man can imagine.

I speak to all the prostituted, past and present – seeing how men practice torture to perfection on the prostituted body, and then take a lesser version out into the non-prostituted world.

The prostituted have always known that prostitution is never about sex – it is always about making the prostituted into nothing, into fuckable goods.

To be a punter – in all time and all places – is to lose compassion and empathy. Is to see the prostituted as goods that you can owned, destroyed and throw away.

The prostituted have always known punters have no heart, no ability to show kindness – and certainly have no interest in the welfare of the prostituted.

The prostituted, especially those of us who have exited, have no choice but to fight for full justice and dignity.

We fight, for we live alongside the ghosts of the prostituted who were destroyed by the sex trade, then forgotten by the public.

We fight for know each moment of every day, too many of the prostituted know the hell our bodies still carry.

Our fight is forged from deep grief, an unquenchable fury, a sense of hole in us that can never be filled.

We fight, as our inner warriors sit on a rock and weep – seeing the centuries of destruction that is the legacy of the sex trade, the legacy of the public turning away from the prostituted.

Grief is the source of so much of our fight.

Grief that is beyond our personal histories, our individual backgrounds or cultures – a grief that is of the prostituted class reaching back 3000 years, and into every country that makes prostitution acceptable.

To be exited from the sex trade, is to know the prostitution is never seen as an individual – always just a whore who is the same as any other whore.

Raping the prostitute is never raping an individual – it a rape by the consumer of goods without a face, a name, or feelings.

When being tortured as a prostitute – the worse thing is knowing it is never personal, just consumption.

When exited women meet or contact each – we have the rest of saying our truths in short-hand.

We may turn to jet black humour, we may speak with silences, we may just communicate through hugs and expression of seeing the human in each other.

We have the rest of knowing we do not need to explain or justify our toughness, our sense of detachment, our desire to bat off reality by sarcasm.

We know our lack of language, the gaps in our memories, the endless pain we feel, the gap we cannot fill – we know this just show how horrific the sex trade was.

We cannot put faces or names to our rapists and torturers – maybe a few – there are too many, it was made too normal.

We cannot remember where the rapes and torturing occurred – only we may see glimpses of places that are so everyday that others refused to believe violence could happened there.

We try to speak to who the punters are – only to be blocked when we state they very ordinary men.

They are married, in a relationship or single men.

They are young, middle-aged or elderly men.

They are employed or unemployed men.

They are from Europe, the Americas, Asia, Austrasia and Africa.

They are rich and they are poor.

The punter is Everyman – he is not outwardly a monster, that is why he is so dangerous – for the punter is so ordinary he is made invisible.

Our fight is slowly beginning to be heard – only taken 3000 years of suffering.

In a short period, we have had the Nordic Approach, which put the focus on the consumer of the prostitute, and attempts to give the prostituted access to freedom, dignity and self-respect.

This is the first step to abolition – or allowing abolition to be seen as a concept that can be made real.

There has never been a place or a time that the prostituted have not dream of abolition – never daring to speak the words in public, always clinging hold to the concept of true freedom in silence.

In the last 20 years, slowly parts of the words Is catching up with what the prostituted have always wanted, but were afraid to demand.

Exited women will fight for full abolition – it may not happen in our lifetimes – but it will a reality.

Recovering Dreams

I lost how to dream through my years inside prostitution.

Dreaming made me too vulnerable. Dreams give hope I could not hold on to.

I lost my dreams – but they were always deep inside.

Inside was the child who saw good in her bleak landscape.

A child who held on to love even when pain surrounded he.

A child who cried when Louis Armstrong died, and imagine she could play a trumpet like him.

Inside was a teenager who dream of living in safety.

A teenager who had close down music and access to joy in case it made her too real.

But a teenager who long to dance without sexual demands, to laugh without control, and to cry without shutting down.

Inside my adult prostituted soul had to imagine what it was to dream.

Remember a time when her mind and body were connected, not warring against each other.

A time so distance, when she could dream, she could be vulnerable, could laugh, could have ambition – a time she had forgotten how to reach.

The sex trade and its consumers destroy that human right to dream.

To dream is to move forward. To dream is be an individual who is not owned and controlled. To dream is freedom.

The sex trade and punters need to destroy that for dreaming will feed the prostituted with hope that there is a real alternative which is in their reach.

I watch the documentary “Dreamwatcher” last night, I was crying.

Crying at the ease that the sex trade destroy hope, destroy pride, destroy self-respect, destroy all that matters to being fully human.

Crying at the fight inside prostituted women not to be destroyed – the fight to find and hold on tight to their dreams.

My dreams are slowly becoming true – not the dreams of a child, but the simpler dreams of my teenage and adult prostituted self.

My dream was to have a life without constant events – events of deep pain, events with no way out, events that I could never control, events that made my life a living death.

I dream of a boring life – life that had stability, life where routine was safe, life where I learnt I could sleep without one eye open.

My life now is boring – full of TV, going out, and solitary times.

I have made my life slow down, not demanding constant stamina in order to avoid knowing myself, not looking for danger but asking for help.

I dream of having a home, a place that was mine.

I now have live in this flat over 25 years – not the constant moving or running away, in order to live on an edge where all thought of safety was a luxury.

I dream of being well enough to have pets.

I have now know, but I had my cats for about 22 years, and they live so long coz I was good at caring for them.

Mostly I dream of living without violence – without constant raping, without knowing torture, without mental manipulation.

I can say that for nearly 30 years now, I have not been inside the world of prostitution.

I have not been raped for about 15 years now.

The same with mental manipulation.

I have not known torture for about 25 years.

The reason I can write this blog, the reason I can speak out – is coz that world is my past, and is staying there.

This does not means I do not hold that violence inside me, or that I consider myself to be safe.

But it does means I am safe enough to stare into the black hole of trauma – and try to make it public.

And know I learning to cry, learning to be vulnerable, learning to trust.

All that was a dream – and now it is real.