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made for myself, I needed some encouragement and the right words to unlock my very soul.

Jeffrey told me the towels were on the heated rack just outside the shower and asked me to get one and pat him down. Again putting himself first as I sat there freezing while I compliantly patted down his body with the white fluffy towel until he was dried. I nearly expected him to ask me to dress him as well, but not surprisingly that came later down the track too. I dried myself off and wiped the make-up from under my eye’s, keeping quiet not sure what to really say and half-embarrassed from the entire evening’s events that just took place. I just remained silent whilst we both got dressed until he brought me downstairs where Ghislane was sitting at a desk holding his black leather duffel bag. When she moved from the chair to let Jeffrey sit down, she passed him the bag and began to tell me that I had great potential to be a massage therapist, they really liked my style and who knows where this could lead too. She asked to see me again tomorrow, same time after work. He opened the bag, revealing stacks of brand-new hundred dollar bills separated with rubber bands to count by the thousands. He grabbed one stack and took out two crisp notes, placing them in my hand. He laughed that it was nearly my whole week’s wage at Mar-A-Lago. Only there I didn’t have to degrade myself as his new little toy.

When I got home my parents were anticipating my arrival. I kept it simple and sweet with my folk’s, only telling them of the lessons about the body I had received and the future prospects in massage therapy that lie ahead. Nobody questioned who I was working for and complimented my ability to be a hard worker. I quickly got out of that conversation afraid I might give away a hint of shame in my eyes but no one caught on. I excused myself to the bathroom to have a shower and stared into the mirror for a moment, asking myself if I could really go through with this only to mentally respond by reminding myself this would be as good as it gets for a girl of my stature and limitations. I scrubbed myself rigidly in the shower as if it would wash away the filthiness of the night, but it didn’t help, I could still feel their hands in me and all over me and inside of me. Trying to sleep that night was nearly impossible too, closing my eyes only to drift away to flashbacks of the moments I had to give myself to Jeffrey and Ghislane, each replay an exploitation of my vulnerability.

The next morning I awoke feeling anxious about the day ahead, trying to push yesterday’s memory from my thoughts, I was quiet for the whole trip to work with my Dad. Before we got out of his car in the parking lot he asked me if everything was okay, I lied, for his sake and mine. My life was being transformed and I didn’t even know it yet, but soon enough I would be a brainwashed tool only used for the sexual pleasure of others.

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About to be entrapped in the same life I had broken free from only months ago.

Convincing myself in order to succeed I had to step up from being a girly teenager and start thinking like a young woman, it would be my ticket to a great career and a fortunate life. I told myself “So what if I had to bargain my body to this rich old geezer, some girls get themselves through college by becoming a stripper and using their bodies to pay for degrees, others go down even worse paths.” I guess it was just another way to fathom the road I was going down, the effectiveness of the lies I forced myself to believe was working as I continued to tell myself I had to make it any way I could rather than ever letting myself sleep on the streets again. I was trading one shocking lifestyle for another, thinking I was choosing the right one. If I could go back in time to ever meet myself I would choose this time in my life. I’d start with a good hard smack to my head to first shake some things up in there and next I would tell that girl she could actually make it on her own if she just worked hard at earning an honest wage and built her life up slowly. There is no rush or time limit to ever stop reaching for achievement. Sadly enough I probably wouldn’t of even believed myself anyways, learning my life’s hard lessons through the experiences I continued to suffer.

I went to work at Mar-A-Lago that day trying hard not to think of what lay ahead in the afternoon too come, but the later the hour got the more distinguished the knots became in my stomach. I spoke to no one of the details to my explicit interview but told one girl how I was so happy I was now officially studying massage therapy, another lie. My friend was surprised and intrigued that these people who could afford the best of the best of therapists in the world chose an untrained fifteen-year-old girl to perform a massage. She never said it in words, but her body language told me she knew exactly why they wanted to use me and it wasn’t for a therapeutic reason either and deep down inside I understood.

The rest of the afternoon slipped away quickly and before I knew it I was standing before those large wooden doors again, giving a moments pause but long enough to draw in my breath and exhale some of the anxiety before ringing the doorbell. Juan answered the door again and told me Ghislane would be down in a few moments and asked to follow him into the kitchen. There was a pleasant looking young girl with blonde spirals in her hair that glanced up from the mound of paperwork before her. Her shocking blue eye’s and appealing English accent seemed delightful and she introduced herself as “Emmy”, Ghislane’s Personal Assistant. I introduced myself as “Jenna” which is what most people knew me as and told her I was on an employment trial to become Jeffrey’s massage therapist. She had a coy smile on her face that told me she knew exactly what I was on trial for. Something in my gut told me

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