Last night I watched a documentary about stag dos, and the danger that if they go with prostitutes that the women had been trafficked.
I was triggered so much that I sick for half the night.
I thought it this happens to most prostitutes, trafficked or not. Most prostitutes are meant to be on demand for packs of men, and must do whatever their whim is.
But to focus just on stags dos is ridiculous.
Men go in packs to use prostitutes for any and no reason.
It can to celebrate your team winning, to drown your tears when they lose.
It may students passing an exam or celebrating being 21.
It may coz one man is still a virgin.
It may bonding for businessmen.
It may just coz their pub is near the red light district.
Christ, it can be any man of any class, background and culture.
Put a man in a pack, and say sex is his prize, and I will guarantee he will give a shit about her human rights and dignity.
Hell, he won’t see that she is a human.
I remember inside my trauma, the fear when men came in packs. Maybe as individuals they were decent human beings, but once drunk and egg on by the pack – the only rule left for me was trying to stay alive and not hurt too bad.
These were the men that gang-raped me.
Men when they gang-rape are breaking every internal law that said keep another human being safe. As an individual, many of the men raping would view gang-rape was evil, when done to good women.
But there is the rub, it was fine to gang-rape a whore. She wants, needs and enjoy it.
If she doesn’t like it, it is her job, it is his right to be part of fucking her.
Also, many men can pretend they only did it because they didn’t to appear weak or gay.
Gang-raping a whore is a bonding experience – and for me was a slow death.
I had men who came in packs queuing to take terms to fuck me.
It was all so civilised, as they stood or sat waiting, they would chat and joke. As men came I sometimes hear their criticism of how my performance was.
Mainly along the lines – she lay like the dead, she wasn’t very friendly, doesn’t talk much silly bitch.
But each one would fuck me.
None give a damned if I was alive or not. I was just a slot machine they push their penis into.
Many times packs of men would choose the prostitute they would use.
This happened to me when I worked in clubs, I was chosen as I sat at the bar.
Most men that choose me wanted to do sadistic violence to me.
A few when we were alone would chat, some saying they don’t want to do really – just don’t want to look bad in front of their friends/colleagues.
Well, no-one can see what was happening in that room, so it would easy to not fuck me, just sit until time is up.
He could be a good guy.
But always I was fucked, often with anger and contempt because they had some a small moment of humanity before me.
Then I was made into nothing, and they could walk away like nothing had happened.
Every time packs of men use prostituted women and girls, they are destroying her ability to be human.
I find this so hard to write about, because their leisure is my trauma.
Last night, after watching the documentary I had a splitting headache until I sick and sick.
I was sick as my guts know the tortures, agony, fear, hate and degradation that packs of men put into me.
And they thought it was nothing.
All I know is no man has to buy a prostitute – all men can walk away from that.