Never Again

            I felt like I was raped last night. If you were there you probably wouldn’t of noticed any difference between that call or any other and on the surface I don’t suppose there was but it was awful.

            I’m starting to feel like the devil is in my clients. When they’re on me, grunting and thrusting away, their face is in my face and they’re breathing their liquor soaked breath on me I feel like poison is entering my lungs. I work to sync my breath with theirs so I don’t have to inhale their air. Their eyes are dark and soulless and I know they just want to take from me. They have no concern for me or what I’m feeling. None.

            A few weeks back I was summoned to a skeezy hotel in the wee hours of the morning to see a guy. I was told he wanted someone young, so when we were talking on the phone I told him I was 22.

            When I got there and he started fucking me he said, “You’re not really 22 are you? You look so young.”

            Oh God, I thought to myself. We’re playing that game? OK, so the scary question was how old does he want me to be? I told him I was 15. He wanted me to be a virgin. He wanted it to hurt when he took my virginity. He wanted me to beg him to stop. That last part wasn’t too much of a stretch.

            I did the daddy/daughter thing once before. When he started it, I thought, is this the road we’re going down? I thought it was really stupid, but I went with it and much to my surprise I really got into it. It was really freeing. Being able to pretend to be someone else allows you to let go and you can say and do things you wouldn’t normally. I liked it.

            Playing daddy/daughter was completely different from with what this other man wanted. He was a paedophile.

            For a while I felt I could handle these experiences. I would just get through them and put them away. But as these experience grow in numbers I’ve come to realise that I just don’t want them. Simple as that. Although some of these things aren’t actually damaging to me, I just don’t want it. I no longer think peoples weird kinks are entertaining or amusing. This just isn’t something I need to do any more.

            This guy I’ve mentioned a couple times, Joseph - we were just supposed to be fuck buddies. I don’t do half measures though and we ended up falling for each other way harder than anticipated. I know I’m a sucker for romance but I wasn’t expecting something this intense. I don’t think he ever asked me to quit. He never asked me to change. He just did his best to deal with it within himself. And he loved me. He told me so. And when he told me he loved me it felt like those words just rolled off my back. I felt like he was wrong.

            Last night Alex and I were talking about how much I lack in self confidence, but I do an amazing job of faking it. Joseph said he saw right through me and he loved me anyway. I don’t believe him. I feel like if he saw the real me he couldn’t love me. And I don’t even know why. I don’t have any idea what it is about me that I think is so unlovable but I can’t shake it.

            On our last day together we made an adorable video and we took turns talking about our relationship and what it meant to us, and what we meant to each other. And if you see the way he looks at me in that video you can see how much he loves me but I couldn’t feel it.

            I feel broken. I feel unlovable. I feel like I carry around my heart breaks like they’re precious to me.

            So I quit my job. I have to repair myself. I have to heal. I haven’t told them. I’m just not taking any calls. I can’t. Just like before, that thing in me which allowed me to do this job is broken. Severed. I will never take another call. I will not be raped again.