Punters want you to believe they are gentlemen, are too vulnerable to have real sex, are just lads on the town.
Punters love to lie.
What gets to me is not their constant lying, but that so many people make the choice to believe them.
Punters are rapists.
Punters enjoy sadism.
Punters have no empathy.
And, most important, punters are criminals.
They are not good men.
To explain my radical view, I will record some of my experiences, and you tell how would their action be framed if they were punters.
Of course, this may be graphic, may upset – you have the choice to turn away.
I write coz I had no choice to escape their hate and violence – and my experiences are a tiny part of the reality for the prostituted.
1. One punter, who considered himself my friend, but treated as his whore.
He brought into the girlfriend experience.
I was his slave, but he pretended we were mates.
It was his habit to take me to parties, to pubs and show me off.
All the time quietly undermining my will to live by speaking over, by sexually abusing me whenever he thought he could get away with it.
He was a fan of American football, and made me watch it.
If I lost interest, or look at the dancing girls too much, he would anally rape me.
It was his game to keep in his flat for weeks, often not allowing me to sleep.
When he went out, I was locked in.
2. A memorable punter was about 30 to 40 years older than me.
He also show me off in pubs, even claiming I was his granddaughter.
This punter love extreme violent anal sex.
He would force me, standing up, against his wall. He would force my legs together, and with no warning, no lubricants, and with my face facing the wall – he rammed his penis up my anus.
I usually fainted, I normally bleed for two or three days after a session with him.
I coped by drinking whisky, by trying to not be there.
But the pain was so deep, it became embedded in my body.
I ended up in hospital because of his violence, having my anus sew up.
3. My entrance into prostitution was one of several gang rapes in a six hour period.
I was placed in a bed sit as the new whore for sale.
I was 14, young enough for for punters to think they were breaking a virgin.
I was sold as liking it as violent as possible. I was sold as a sub-human.
The breaking in was that I was raped – gang-raped – by lines of punters.
Every cell in my body was broken down, until I had nothing left.
As I became their ideal whore, I lost all contact with hope, all contact with a world outside the sex trade.
I was broken, but the gang-raping went on and on and on and on.
Until, for no reason I was throw out onto the street.
I went a disturbed and vulnerable teenager, I left a perfect whore.
I have written the tip of the iceberg – but it too much for now.
Just know I was raped every time a punter chose to buy me – and I exited prostitution when I was 27.