This week I have been recovering and coming to terms with that I have had a dormant sexual disease for many years.
Of course, it is not the only reason I have very ill a lot and had terrible trauma, it is just one of many things – but this has made my dormant fury rise into my sickness.
I have been celibate for a long time – and I know I got this illness from some bastard punter.
His or their poison planted their sperm into my vagina, anus and throat and walked away.
For punters it is nothing – for them all prostitutes are filthy whores anyhow, so what a disease to such a creature.
I want to write to the hate that I hold back on for it is so huge.
The hate my whore’s heart has for each and every punter that owned me.
I was brought to be their property – I was brought to have no mind of my own, I was brought to speak only their language.
Being brought is to the status of the slave – and it is normal for slaves to silently hate their masters.
I hate your entitlement.
I hate that you did not bother with protection for I was throwaway, so my welfare was of no importance.
If I got pregnant – my “problem” would be aborted and then men like you can carry on raping me.
When I got infections, it was my fault for being a dirty whore and nothing to do with no condom or punters spreading ill-health.
It meant nothing to you that your sperm was polluting me from so long ago to now.
You the punter walk away, go to yet more prostitutes – and think it is nothing but a quick screw.
I hate you for planting your rotten seed in me – and I only hope you have a little of my pain in you.
You punter are just lucky that most prostitutes are not or cannot be as violent as the hate we have for you.
If you truly read our thoughts, you would see you are murdered a thousand times over.
Yes, we may of smiled; yes, we may have made the right sex noises and moves; yes, we did boost your stupid ego.
But that was done on remote – it all meant nothing to us.
Each and every man who make the choice to buy another human for his sexual greed and porn fantasy, is and will be hated by at least one prostitute somewhere.
Most are hated by most prostitutes.
We often detached ourselves by imaging your murders; we imagine your torture; we want and imagine your terror as the whore goes out of control.
Prostitutes learn to be silent about this hate – but in our hearts we know that hate give us some reason to fight to stay alive.
As this dormant infection is being dealt with – I know I will not forget why it is there.