Prostitution is legal in Kate's home country but is heavily and apparently very corruptly controlled. Kate's time working in a controlled environment (brothels) is deliberately omitted from this account, although a few references are made to it. Other than a few embellishments for titillation, publishability, and readability this is her story as told to me via numerous emails over several months. I've converted metric measurements to inches and improvised some words/phrases that Kate used for which I couldn't find an exact translation
Minnie.
October 2016
I was cold, hungry, and very wet as I climbed up into the cab of the huge lorry. I was looking forward to a warm place to spend the night, maybe even the following day or two, even if I had to pay for it the way I had so often in the past.
I was a whore, a girl on the streets, queen of the blow job. Lorry parks and truck stops were my preferred haunts. I wasn't what I'd call a full time prostitute, in fact I rarely fucked my punters (customers), they were usually just a means to an end, a ride to the next town. Sometimes a driver would give me a lift and ask nothing in return, more often they'd settle for a blow job, rarely they'd demand I screw them, they probably feared catching a STD. I wasn't the cleanest looking young woman, living on the streets does that to a girl.
That particular night was at the end of a particularly bad weekend, the weather had turned really bad and I'd needed to head south, into warmer climes.
As I sat on the seat I said "thanks" and threw back the hood of my coat.
I looked across at the driver, OH SHIT!
First the history.
I was raised in a very middle class household, my mother a nurse (part time) and my father an accountant. My life was very proscribed, school, home, church. The emphasis was always on the church. We were members of the church in a big way, Saturdays were for church, 10am was Sabbath School, 11am was Divine Service. After a break for lunch, 2pm was bible studies and presentations or standing in a shopping mall or the town reading the bible out loud.
Sunday's were commonly spent walking door to door delivering church pamphlets and religious tracts.
My father was one of the lay preachers, and as his daughter I was always expected to toe the line and act the demure little girl.
I think most of the time I was the perfect little daughter, the only things I remember doing wrong was occasionally drinking real coffee (which was banned) and sitting with my brother in the bathroom as he bathed, that was our little secret, such as it was. There was nothing sexual about it in any way, it was just a way for us to talk and share without our parents getting between us as was their habit.
The only concession to the twenty first century I was personally allowed was a mobile phone. But, not an up to date phone, mine was a museum piece, it could make and receive calls and text messages but that was all. My parents provided the phone and paid the bills, which they received every month, on paper, and itemized! I was under strict instructions to use the phone for contacting my parents and emergency calls only so I had to account for any and every use of the thing! Fortunately the itemization didn't include incoming or I would have been in trouble.
We did have a computer at home, I couldn't have done my schoolwork without one, but that was situated in the corner of the dining room where there was absolutely no privacy.
Privacy was something I was never allowed, if I was in the bathroom I was frequently subjected to my mother entering, even when she knew full well I was in there, and when my periods started that fact was openly discussed, even in front of my older brother and father! My becoming a woman was even happily announced by my father in church.
When my school friends started going out on an evening I wasn't allowed. What I was allowed to do was attend the church run youth club once a week, but as one or other or both my parents helped run it you can understand that it didn't exactly give me any freedom.
My older brother Robert is five years older than me and at the age of seventeen while he was at college he did the unthinkable, he got a job at one of the local fast food outlets. For a family of vegetarians that was sheer sacrilege!
The atmosphere in our house when Robert was around became unbearable and one day when I got home from school I was informed by my parents that my brother had moved out.
I found out the next day that he had moved into a flat with a girlfriend of his.
The next few years passed much as they had before, the main difference being that I got secret phone calls from Robert now and again, they were my lifeline, my contact with the world beyond home and the church.
By the time I was sixteen and had finished my exams Robert had moved into a house of his own with a girlfriend. When I informed my parents of this they said it was no longer any concern of theirs but that they would pray for him!
My exam results weren't perfect, they were good, but not good enough for my parents, even though they did get me my leaving certificate, they would pray for me to do better at vocational college.
Every year since I could remember my parents had attended a church 'retreat' for a week in the summer holidays. This had always been the only freedom that I had ever known, it was 'adult only' so I was allowed to go stay with my father's sister, My only aunt.
Aunt Frieda was single, having never married, and she was the opposite of my parents. I think the only reason I was allowed to stay with her was that when my stay was over it my turn to go to the church retreat, this time for 'youth'!
Aunt Frieda was a breath of fresh air. She was a member of that same church but she wasn't very serious about it, she also wasn't vegetarian and even drank wine and used make-up.
That year my week at aunt Frieda's went even faster than normal. We spent most of the time packing her belongings into boxes prior to her moving to another city. Frieda was quite sympathetic about my life, but she had her own problems to deal with.
She didn't tell me why or even where she was going, she said she didn't have an actual address as yet.
After my break at aunt Frieda's, followed by my 'retreat' it was time for me to get ready to go to college.
College was something I was really looking forward to, it was a church run college (my parents wouldn't make the same mistake they'd made with my brother), but it was a couple of hundred miles away from home and I was going to have to live in, something I was going to thoroughly enjoy.
I wasn't allowed to pack my own clothes, and it was while I was doing so with mothers help (or rather hindrance) that she dropped the bombshell on me!
I wasn't going to be living in, I was going to be living out! While at their retreat they'd met a couple that lived near the college and had a room to rent out, it was a done deal, I had no say in the matter.
I went to college, it was worse than being at home. Part of the deal (I found out after I'd got there) was that I'd work for the family I was staying with. I was little more than a slave. My list of duties included cleaning the house, doing the laundry, doing the ironing, and even mowing the lawn, as well as washing up after each meal. The family took full advantage of the fact that they didn't need to clean up after themselves.
I had no time for anything, even my college work was second to my household duties.
At half term when I got home I explained the situation to my parents. Their answer was that I was merely subsidising my room costs and I shouldn't be so ungrateful.
Back at college towards Christmas I was called into the Principles office. My work was suffering, I wasn't keeping up with my classes and it had been noticed that I'd skipped church services on several occasions. Again I explained the situation, the Principle was sympathetic but other than to contact my parents and ask them to alter the terms of my board arrangements there was little he could do.
He contacted my parents, things went from bad to worse, if anything my workload increased.
When I got home for the Christmas break neither of my parents had a good word for me. I was spoilt, I was ungrateful, I was a lazy wretch. I was unworthy of the good family I'd been born into!
I endured the situation as long as I could but shortly after I'd turned 18 I realised that I was wasting my time, I wasn't going to graduate any time soon as long as I was used as a slave in that household. The problem was that I was reliant on my parents for finances, I couldn't even ask aunt Frieda for help as I'd completely lost touch with her.
On my next visit home I once again tried to reason with my parents, to no avail, they became even more 'Holier than Thou' than usual telling me that God would find the right path for me, other than that they were just as abusive towards me as previously.
I left.
I didn't go back to college, instead I went to stay with my brother. By this time Robert was a delivery driver, he was still living with a girlfriend although not the same one as previously. It was ok at first but things got weird a couple of months later when Caroline's birthday approached.
Robert and Caroline were having a party for her birthday, a 'toga' party. They were very good about it, they even got me a toga, but when Caroline fitted it on me I had to remove my bra and I was left with one of my breasts bare. Caroline's toga was the same, and she explained that all the women at the party would have at least one bare breast, that was just part of the fun!
I'd never been bare breasted in my life, the only person who had ever seen my breasts, even briefly, was my mother when she barged into the bathroom at home. I had a couple of days to get used to the idea but to be honest I never did.
Caroline told me straight,
"Either play the game, loosen up and get adult about it or fuck off!"
When the evening of the party came I was quite shocked by what went on. As Caroline had explained, all the female guests had at least one breast on display, a couple were completely topless. I did my best to keep out of the way, with my left breast on display I was very self-conscious, not least because most of the women there didn't seem to mind others openly fondling them!
Mid way through the evening I was getting light headed, I'd had a couple of glasses of wine and the smoke filled atmosphere was getting to me. I was pretty sure there was more than just tobacco being smoked in there so I tried to go to my room to get away from it. There were three people in my room, on my bed, having sex!
I'd never seen anything like that before, two girls were naked and doing things to a guy on the bed, I got out of there, quickly.
When I found my brother in the kitchen he was obviously not himself, he was drunk or high on drugs, or both! When I complained about what was going on in my room he suggested that I join in with them! And, it wasn't my room, it was the spare room, I was only a temporary hanger-on. As he was talking to me he had backed me up against a wall, he didn't keep his hands to himself.
I managed to get myself out of the kitchen after a few minutes and had another drink, hidden away in a corner.
I don't remember what happened most of the rest of that evening, just vague memories of someone feeling my breasts and pulling my toga off of me. I woke up about noon the following day, I was on top of my bed, I was naked and there was blood on the inside of my thighs.
There were naked and semi naked people in every room of the house, all asleep or in the first throws of waking.
I left.
I tried my parents, they wouldn't let me in the house, neither would they give me my aunt's address, they claimed not to know it, so much for their high religious ideals of universal forgiveness!
For the next week or two I managed to cadge a bed for the night or even two, at various old friends, but it didn't last long before I was out again. I couldn't blame them, I'd never really had good or close friends, My way of life hadn't allowed for that.
