This is a very shortened version of how I was tortured when I was inside prostitution.
It is being used in Canada to explain what non-state torture is, and I hope from the depths of my heart, and the ache of my prostituted soul – that this is part of changing hearts and minds to build a road to abolition and true freedom.
I only allowed this to be made public and used, because I am just a tiny example of how all prostitution is built on torture.
Exited prostitutes are living witnesses to the worse tortures that humans have ever invented.
We were experimented on to see how pain and degradation a human body can take without actually dying.
Of course, there is little care is taken or our mental, physical or sexual welfare – why care when it is decided the tortured do not feel human pain, cannot be degraded and if we died it coz we were too weak to live.
Torture in prostitution is the norm.
What else do you call serial and seemingly endless rapes?
What else do you call the punter’s demand that the prostitute acts happy even when in severe pain, fear of being killed or serious sexual diseases?
What else would say about a whole prostituted class who have no access to consent, no guarantee of safety, and no idea if they survive?
Oh, you may call it work, you may imagine that indoors prostitution can be made safe at least, you may build yourself an illusion that you are using only “empowered” prostituted.
You may think if you shut off all your senses enough, then you make there can no torture in all aspects of prostitution.
You can ignore the dead eyes of the prostituted – dead from knowing no hope, dead from killing all emotions to not know pain and terror.
You may choose to only see the prostitute as hard – not allowing yourself to know that to be that hard is one way to cut off memory of endless mental, physical and sexual torturing is the norm when you are prostituted.
Acting hard is defiance, it a cover for the terror that if any vulnerability comes out – it will made into a joke and more than likely make punters pour more hate into you.
You may see torture, and decide that when enclose in the world of prostitution it must be entertainment, that prostitutes enjoy pain and degradation – that it must only acting or fake. So your conscience is clear then.
Well, and my many exited friends, were bloody good actors then.
We smiled, spoke word of comfort or sex talk, we made orgasmic noises.
We acted as the punter’s sex god, mother, girlfriend, schoolgirl, the woman to pour hate into, the woman who is close to death but does not care, we were whatever porn nightmare the punter could imagine.
For we were never allowed to be humans – we were allowed no will, no future or a past – only the constant present of being the role of a fuck-doll.
That is slavery plain and simple.
Tell how there any excuse for prostitution.