This is Only a Blog

I have tried to rest from this blog – but to get back my power, I need to write why this blog is under my rules and control.

Yes, this is a public blog – but it not a forum for the sex trade lobby and their allies to spread their propaganda, it not a forum for them to spread hate and keep exited women as sub-humans.

This blog is first and foremost written by an exited woman for exited women.

Anything that hurts, lies about exited women and the conditions for the vast majority of the prostituted will be deleted.

Anything that is written to gas-light our words will be deleted.

Anyone implying we too mentally damaged to be taken seriously will be deleted.

Any threats will be deleted.

Anyone saying we have been brainwashed, and implying we are too stupid to have our own views, will be deleted.

This is a blog, so it made to my personal viewpoint, not a forum for the sex trade lobby to rip into me.

I see you are running scared – scared that this blog is read on every continent, scared that this blog is part of changing attitudes towards abolition, scared that we are being believed.

I know you will not see my humanity, but I see yours and I am sad that you feel the need to hate me for regaining my power.

I am saddened that you have the need to control exited women – why must you keep in the position of the slave?

I see and read the endless hate that the sex trade lobby send out any exited women who become public.

I have been threatened that pimps will kill me, I have been told I was not a “real” prostitute, I been told to kill myself.

These are the tactics of a group that feels threatened.

I have seen the hate sent to my exited Sisters who dare to speak to the truth.

In all your words, there is no empathy and no compassion – no connection to us as humans.

But then we are goods to you, you are furious that we re-gaining that we are human.

You can hate and threaten us – but you can stop us.

Instead, your hate is reminding us of why we fight so hard for abolition and full humanity for all the prostituted.

It is the reminder of the pimp control of our pasts, it is a reminder that we are nothing by the sex trade.

So thanks for that reminder – it just will make me and my exited Sisters stronger.

Torture was My Norm

 

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.

 

Silencing Will Not Work

There is a constant flow of sex workers and sex trade lobbyists attempting to silence the multiple voices of exited women.

It will never work, however poisonous or manipulative their words are or will be in the future.

They are attempting to silence the truth, they are attempting to drive us into despair.

They use gas-lighting methods, they manipulate our trauma, they say we were never real prostitutes.

They speak in the language of control, in the language that is a constant remainder that they view us sub-humans.

We were their goods, their property, we were their cash cow – so they are furious we have gone out of their control.

We have reach the beginning of true freedom, we are re-learning how to be fully human – so there is no way we could ever be trapped inside the sex trade again.

That is unbearable to the sex trade lobby – unknowable that any prostituted woman could want to be fully human.

So their silencing can never work, it is like trying to rope down the ocean.

It is Not Your Right

It is not a human right that men can pay for sex.

It is not a human right that men can have sex on demand, and use paying money or exchanging gifts as a way making consent disappear.

It is a terrible man-made myth that we even need to have a prostituted class.

All it does is make a class of mainly women and girls into the unrapeable, into goods that have no rights to be human as they made fuck-machines.

All it does is to make the prostituted into objects that are used up and thrown away.

It is not a human right to pick and choose your porn, your prostitutes the way you pick and choose different favours of ice-cream.

It not a human right to have access to the sex trade through the net, down the phone, driving pass in your car, entering any “gentlemen’s” club.

It not a human right to end a Friday or Saturday night by fucking a whore.

All that does is destroys any connection you have to being a human.

All you left with is hate, the want and need to dominate and use more extreme sexual violence.

It is horrific myth that the sex trade can help you to communicate or find a route to your own humanity.

You become the slave-owner each time you buy another human for your sexual greed.

Buy into the sex trade, and you are being poisoned by their hate, their desire to destroy all the prostituted.

Buy into the sex trade, and you are buying into pure evil.

Look at yourself – face your own denial.

I heard over and over and over punters and consumers saying they were doing no harm, saying the prostituted were only there coz they wanted to be there, saying it is just a service.

Bullshit.

If you choose to believe those lies, then you have lost your route back to humanity.

You are paying for your right to rape without any consequences, you are paying to torture and re-branding that as entertainment, you are paying to know if you kill the whore the body will disappear and you act  like nothing happened.

Is that what you mean by it is doing no harm?

Of course, it is easy to imagine the prostitute must choose her lifestyle – easy if you choose to ignore the pimps controlling her, easy if don’t see bruises or track-marks on her, easy if you ignore she is under-aged, easy to ignore she is locked in, easy to ignore she may speak the language of the country you are in, easy to say to yourself she is paid well and ignore her dead eyes.

Ignore all that, and you can imagine she is happy and you that mythical good punter.

A service!!

What I say, is a service to be nothing but holes and hands, is it a service to ignore all human pain and put you body into deep danger, is it a service to smile as sexual torture becomes your norm.

How dare any man think he has the right to demand such a service?

The sex trade will only end when men wake up and realise it not a human right to demand to have a prostituted class.

Being Alive is a Trigger Warning

I do not and will never again use trigger warnings.

I do so out respect and love for my readers, for I assume they are adults who can and will how and what they choose to read.

I never will treat my readers as victims who are unable to stop reading or to use the off switch. So I find the whole concept of trigger warnings deeply offensive to my readers.

More important, I believe that it is impossible to go through life without triggers. It is about learning to adapt or to look within yourself why you are so triggered.

I think many triggers can a push into anger, into a demand for real change.

It is your choice if you use a trigger as an excuse for apathy or worse self-pity.

Let’s look at the sex trade –  see the conditions and mind-set of the sex trade and you should be upset, unsettled and in shock, that is a normal reaction to knowing the reality of the prostituted.

I would pissed off if my writing did not trigger or at least make you rethink your views on the sex trade.

I am not writing to take care of my reader’s emotions – I expect them to know how to be careful of themselves.

I am writing to an emergency, to a genocide, to mass torture, to rape beyond comprehension – I do not have the time and space to look after delicate flowers.

I will not clean up the sex trade, so it does upset a few readers.

How do you clean up torture –

Clean up mental torture. Not say or implied the sexually degrading language that makes all the prostitutes into goods. Not use language that is factual account of torture just in case it may trigger one or two reader.

I will not clean up my language.

Clean up that there was endless physical torture. Not say that every part of every prostituted woman or girl is used, abused, brought, sold, tied, strangled, drown, raped, burnt, whipped, kicked, spat at, rammed etc – there is no place on the prostituted which belong to her. Not say being dead is the only to stay alive.

I will not clean up my descriptions of those simple truths.

I can never clean up that to be prostituted is be sexually tortured until language and thought is stolen from. I can never say it just loads of violent rapes, that is nowhere near the robot you become to somehow survive.

I cannot make it better for the reader – cannot say it just comparable to domestic violence or serial rape by men that you know. It is not, though there are deep connections.

I cannot say there is any human connection with punters or pimps – I can only speak to being made into goods, losing what it was to be human, I can speak through a dead heart.

All I know is to be inside long-term prostitution is lose all ability to remember what it is to be human. You become just holes to be rammed, hands to wank off men and your voices speak the language of the pimp.

I cannot make it tidy – for to be a prostitute is to live in chaos, is to live always never sure that you are still breathing.

That should be bloody triggering – it should trigger you into demanding abolition to stop that hell.

So I give no trigger warnings ever again.

 

Naming the Torture

I was tortured.

That is the hardest thing to say to myself – hardest thing to let into my mind.

Almost impossible for my body to go with that I was tortured.

I can write to the torture with detachment, with my heart firmly locked away from what it was for me. I write as an archetype, never allowing in me.

I cannot see the degradation without glass in-between, I will let in the pain in case I self-harm, I cannot grieve in case I shattered.

But in this post, I will attempt to go to the middle of what it means to me that I tortured.

I enter a place, where truth lays weeping, showing me pain but finding language forming in her mouth.

Words are being born for the prostituted to say what it is and was to be in a world where torture was our norm.

This is a highly personal post, and that means is deeply political.

I will start with the knowledge and anger that the prostituted are not allowed the language of torture by far too many.

If you make the choice to call it sex work, make the choice to speak in the language of labour – then torture vanishes into bad choices at work.

If you make the choice to say prostitution is somehow sacred – then there be no human torturing, just some kind of spiritual gift.

If you say prostitution is separate from trafficking – that if there is torture it only in “bad” prostitution – then you make invisible that the whole structure of prostitution is built on torture.

I am sick of so many refuses that torture is and was the norm for the vast majority of the prostituted class.

As you make excuses and turn – the prostituted are being made sub-humans and there is genocide going on as you say nothing bad is happening.

So I try to write to my experiences, speak through my fragmented memory, speak into what my mind put up firm walls to stop me knowing.

I was tortured.

I hear women say rape is torture – that is just a fact.

So be me as I was a prostitute.

Know I was raped in every way possible, know I have no idea how many punters or pimps raped me – know that I had no language to call that rape.

Know I was told it was my role, told it was weak to even think it was wrong, told that women like me don’t feel pain like real women – told it is impossible to rape me, coz you can’t rape a whore.

I, like so many prostitutes, adapted to the endless flow of rapes, and decided it was my nature and I was so bad that I was to blame.

I thought it was weak to show I was pain, weak to know it was degradation, weak to feel fear.

I became tough – but never got rid of the crying and screaming deep in my stomach.

Torture went it appear to have no end, it the most effective to silence anyone.

I fall into silence, for I lost any language outside of what punters and pimps told me to think or say.

That is torture at it most extreme. The utter destruction of the self, till it is sub-human.

Look clearly into the eyes of the majority of the prostituted, and see how dead they are – see she is made into a shell and almost lost what it is to be human.

Remember her eyes, and justify to me why that is not named as torture.

I could write for ages how ways physical ways it was normal to torture the prostituted.

Think of every form of torture you know happening in wars, happening in police cells, happening to political prisoners, happening in domestic violence – think of all that and know that is happening to the prostituted all the time everywhere.

Only it is rare, it is just one torture at one time, but rape plus torture, pretend murder plus torture, verbal violence plus torture etc.

In many ways nearly all human forms of tortures, and rehearse into the minds and bodies of the prostituted class, then spread out to the non-prostituted.

But much of the sexual torturing of the prostituted is kept inside the sex trade – and kept closed away from the public gaze.

Much of my torturing was hidden in plain view – for there is a refusal to believe the scale of hate that is the sex trade.

I was used to gang-rapes, gang-rapes that went for whole nights, for not just one group of punters were destroying me – but there was a queue to be a gang-rapist.

I was used to anal torture, but it was done to kill or give heart attack, as my legs were held together, as objects were forced in, as I drowning in bath-water, as no warning was given.

I was used to being strangled, used to have penises, objects and fists rammed down my throat.

I was used to be smashed into wall, kicked in the head and stomach.

Heck, to be a prostitute is to get used to hell – and learn to show no emotions, learn to paint on a smile and just go to the next punter.

That is torture – how dare anyone even think to call it anything else.

If you refuse to name it as torture – then the prostituted can never be truly free.

Song for my Warrior Soul

I am hurting.

Hurting beyond the point of knowing or even remembering a time without hurt.

I hurt, as I act unhurt.

I am grieving.

Grief is grabbing every cell inside my body.

Grief is shaking up my brain.

I grieve, but show no tears, have no sorrow.

I have a warrior deep in me.

A warrior who stares out into nothing.

Seeing what has no words.

Seeing with eagle eyes a pain that engulfs her heart.

My warrior is weeping slow inside her heart.

I have an anger, a rage.

Rage as I see, I know millions of my prostituted Sisters are dying, are being destroyed.

Destroyed as all eyes turn away.

Look away saying it is not so bad – others have it worse.

How worse.

Is it ok to be raped so much that there no language left.

Is it ok to create humans as goods to poke, twist, bite, hit and abuse for entertainment.

Is it ok that my prostituted Sisters died and no-one cares they have gone.

But we should not complain, we must not go on.

My warrior is gasping for oxygen, as death seems so welcoming.

We must not complain.

For everyone knows the prostitute choose their own lifestyle.

We are so stupid, so masochistic – we choose to exist inside hell.

My warrior soul is white with rage.

I may faint as words lose all meaning, as language cut up my throat.

You speak choice – say it many times, say it loud – make it true.

You want that we must have chosen prostitution.

If we speak your language – even as it is choking us to death.

Then you gaze into prostitution with the burden of caring, without the inconvenience of responsibility.

See us and say it was freely chosen.

Then you make men that buy us to rape us invisible.

Then you make the whole structure and highly organised way men profiteer from our rapes invisible.

Say we must have chosen it – you are saying.

Saying we are the unrapeable.

Saying we do not have normal human reaction to pain and degradation.

Saying we are never human – so we have no rights.

Do you not hear my warrior soul screaming at you in shock and outrage.

You will never hear the silent screaming.

Staring Down the Void

This post is an attempt to explore what being inside torture framed as prostitution meant to my body and mind. It will be graphic, seeking language to face some truths.

I want to write as a beginning to fill in some of the terrible void of that time

A void of the mind knowing many truths, but unable to show them to me in fear my body would collapse.

That is a real and solid fear, fear that I see my tortured prostituted self – and the pain, the grief, the shock and the deep anger tears me apart.

I do not speak in metaphors here – my fear is real as I am sick just remembering small glimpses of that reality, if I write it through agony and a grief without boundaries.

I want to write – but I will need my true and loyal more than ever.

To know that you have been tortured is unbearable – to know that the majority was so terrible that it was closed away from conscious thinking is soul-destroying.

To know that that torture was repeated into my body and mind for many years by more punters than my mind allows me to remember is unbearable.

To know my torture was just the norm of all aspects of the sex trade is unbearable.

To know all my tortures, and all the torturing of women and girls inside the sex trade, is made invisible and re-branded as work that is chosen is unbearable.

I need it to be known that all the time, almost everywhere, the prostituted class are being tortured – and it is allowed to continue because it class as entertainment, as a service for men, or as sex work.

Torture of the prostituted is allowed to exist because most societies turn away.

There is the basic torture that is the norm in all aspects of the sex trade – the torture of knowing your body is never your property, your body is made into sexual goods for all men to use.

It is the torture of not being allowed to call the sexual invasion of your body as rape or even abuse.

It is not rape – it is selling goods to a buyer.

It is the torture of knowing you are sub-human every time a man makes the choice to buy your body, to view your rape in porn, to pay for you to strip, or in any way buy you for his orgasm.

Torture is to know you have no right to be human, torture is to know you are interchangeable to rape or make into goods.

The punters that torture the prostituted do so with dead eyes – they have no concept she is human, she is just holes to him.

Torture is to made a slave – and then be made mad by being told you are free.

All I know is none of my body belong to me, none of my body had the basis right to be safe and not in the constant shadow of pain.

There was no part of my body that was not tortured by punters – every part of my body was their playground to see if I was real or not.

How do live with that reality?

I have no answers, only the need to explore.

To explore, I will need solid support.

Simple Views

This post is about the many ways that both pro-sex trade lobbyists and those who think they are allies with exited women, say simple concepts that are highly damaging and prevent a clear path to abolition.

There is the simple belief that being inside the sex trade is just a job like any other – sometimes this is slightly altered it a bad job, but it is a service that must be provided for men.

Why is viewed as so vital? Why do so many need to see as work – to ignore the conditions of slavery, to turn away from the stripping of human rights from all the prostituted?

Is that for it just to “work”, you must make all the prostituted into sub-human – then you can walk away with a clear conscious.

Look with a clear eye, what you classed as work.

Is it normal in your work that rape is expected?

Is it normal in your work that a high rate of deaths is expected – be from suicide, from the body unable to cope with the pain any more, or from being murdered?

Is it normal in your work that women just disappear, and no-one mention that they existed?

Is it normal in your work that your body is constantly invaded by penises, penetrated by objects – that you body is public property to all men, and you have no rights over your body?

Is it normal in your work to move without warning to more violent and soul-destroying environments?

Is it normal in your work to have no name, to live with constant language of hate and fear as your label?

This is not work – this is just the gradual erosion of all human rights.

In other words, to be inside the sex trade is to be made into a slave – and the illusion is the sex trade profiteers and their allies say all the prostituted are free.

Reminds of something –

Work is Freedom.

That evil lie is only said to the oppressed, to those in conditions of slavery.

It only said when it is clearly slavery – but with a wave of hand and a loud explosion, it is transformed into work.

It is kept in the frame of work, as long as outsiders to sex trade lobby make the choice to only view prostitution as a labour issue, and steer clear of messy human rights issues.

It works as a concept, only if the prostituted have no voice – only have access to the voice of the pimps and punters.

It is called work for so many listen and only voices of the prostituted who are mouthing the words of their oppressors – speaking their words for all other language has been stolen from them.

It is in that environment – that the concept of the Happy Hooker is used as a spokeswoman to stand for all the prostituted.

The Happy Hooker speak the language that has no meaning to the prostituted – but it the language of men who buy and sell the prostituted.

It is a language that speak that stigma to the prostituted is the major issue – and ignores or makes invisible all male violence done to the prostituted.

It is a language that frame any male that may be done to the prostituted as a sign of weakness of an individual prostitute – not the whole structure of the sex trade is founded on male violence and hate.

It is a language of sexual liberation, a language of serving men, it is a language of being part of preventing real violence to non-prostituted women and girls.

It is never the language of the prostituted class – our language is stolen, is silenced, our language is run over and then we may be allowed to speak.

For the language of the prostituted has never changed – it is kept underground in order that non-stop profits of the sex trade continues.

Our language is clear that all aspects of the sex trade is founded on giving men the right to pay to rape, pay to do all forms of torture, pay to make women and girls into goods.

Our language is clear that is no safe aspect of the sex trade – just gaps where punters and profiteers decide to be less violent.

Our language is clear that most of the prostituted survive by not knowing their own reality, and learning to speak the language of their oppressor – for most prostituted are in a world where they cannot even imagine hope, so most adapt to their hell.

One simple concept that ignores the realities of what it is to be prostituted – is the constant compare and contrast to other forms of male violence.

This is said in multiple ways, most ways ignore the words of exited women, ignore the scale of the sex trade.

It is said it just lots of rapes.

That is partly true – but lessen that it not acts of individual men paying to rape – but the whole institution made to sell women and girls to be unrapeable, and only works if culture and society makes that acceptable.

The prostitute is never viewed as a human as she is raped, she has no rights to know rape – she has rights to complain.

It not rape, it is just using goods and moving on.

The point of a structure of slavery is to make groups of humans unrapeable, humans that can constantly tortured on every level and just have to get used to it.

That is the norm for all the prostituted.

It is said that it is just a continuum of male – and for exited women to want or need a separate voices or multiple voices is to somehow destroy feminism.

But why in this continuum is prostitution always made an appendix or just too extreme to fit?

It is hard to fit that continuum, when we are told we must fit prostitution into the language of rape and domestic violence – and not speak in the language of human rights or say we must speak of prostitution being the building block to all violence to all women and girls.

We must not speak with power, we must remained victims for other to save and give us their language to explain our realities.

When exited women say in a clear way that the structure of the sex trade is built of having a class of women and girls that made for men to pour all their hate and violence into.

When exited women say in a clear voice, this is never done to the individual prostitute, that she is made nothing but holes and hand for many centuries.

When exited women say in a clear voice let us speak and teach you all we understand of why and how men are violent.

When exited women speak with power, a clearness and a force to build real change – that is when too many speak over and through us.

Instead of listening and truly hearing exited women – instead the voices of academics, the voices of the media, the voices of all expect the prostituted are made the voices that lead abolition.

This post is a stream of consciousness, I hope it make sense.