Paid For: My Journey Through Prostitution by Rachel Moran

Author:Rachel Moran [Moran, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Biography & Autobiography, Personal Memoirs, Social Science, Women's Studies, Prostitution & Sex Trade
ISBN: 9780393351989
Google: euxwBgAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00TG24BDK
Publisher: W. W. Norton
Published: 2015-09-07T16:00:00+00:00

collect condoms, a particular humorous remark made to a young prostitute by one of the older women. They were discussing an unexpected surge in trade the previous night and the younger woman mentioned how she'd gone home exhausted after it. 'Ah sure: said the older woman, 'you probably enjoyed it!' The entire company, myself included, burst out laughing. The humour-for those it is lost on-was in the absurdity. The truth of the matter is that the nature of prostitution flavours the sexual act as far too distasteful and too sleazy and too bound up with degradation to allow any kind of wholesale enjoyment. Of course this will fly in the face of the fantasists, but the reality of prostitution usually does. A woman's feelings here range between mild distaste and outright disgust and only in unique or very exceptional circumstances ~ will her experience be any different. That is not to say these unique and ,: exceptional experiences do not, once in a blue moon, occur. For some ~ women, they do, and when they do, no-one is more surprised than the ~ prostitute. I would know, because on two occasions those experiences ~ happened to me. When I was sixteen I was released from a court order, the purpose of which had been to keep me detained for my own protection. It did not have the required effect. The reason for this was clear, and I still wonder how the children's court could have been so foolish as to imagine that a few months of detention would have turned my life around when I was released back onto the streets with no viable alternative to prostitution. If they'd had any real dedication to helping me change my life, they would have detained me for a couple ofyears and made it a condition of my future parole that I complete some form oftraining, be it secretarial, hairdressing, etc., and I would have been assigned a parole officer and social worker who'd have ensured I was placed with an apprenticeship or in an entry-level office position. It wouldn't have been rocket science, it could have been done and I know I would have been capable of applying myself to it. Anyway, this did not happen; I was released after a few months and it was at this point I went to live in the brothel on Leeson Street I've previously described. The first car that pulled up on my first night back on the streets was driven by a young man in his early to mid-twenties. He was attractive, not disrespectful in his manner and he was shy, quiet, not speaking to me much on the way to the laneway I used. When we arrived there I realised that I was aroused. I hadn't seen my then boyfriend for months and hadn't had any intimacy. I suddenly realised that I missed it; I missed being held and touched. I told him that I'd changed my mind, that I would do intercourse, so he slipped on a condom and it was all over in minutes.

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