When I see math problems I automatically think of my work in the sex industry. I had a client who was a psychologist living a double life. He catered to addicts because he was one himself. Usually people with troubled backgrounds say they want to help others follow in their overcoming footsteps Not him. He wanted clients who could get him dope, inject him (seriously, true story), turn tricks with him, or serve as debt collectors. Every client had to participate in his game, help him get that next high. The threat of him causing a patient to return to prison due to a bad report to a probation officer from him was real but unspoken. I was not a person prone to being intimidated by others, but even I felt vulnerable. I understood why there are rules against people in power forming relationships with subordinates.

HE HAD A HIGH OPINION OF ME, FOR A HOOKER

He knew I was smart and complimented me when he said I was nearly intelligent enough to comprehend his writing. He got off on showing me reports that he wrote to parole officers about his patients–for his amusement. He would write, “patient relapsed today,” but wouldn’t say the person relapsed with him. Those reports were like trophies he kept to relive the victimization with some tangible reminder. I know about psychopaths and their souvenirs from watching Forensic Files.

THE SHOW I GAVE HIM

He find my perceived intelligence appealing in his tole as a trick. I saw him once a week and each time he had something new for me. He liked to watch me and whisper encouragement in my ear while I sat at his computer…and took I.Q. tests. A different type each week to measure different abilities. He wanted to see if I maintained my scores through my using.A sample question is

A is to 1

As

C is to 3

As

E is to ?

When I chose the correct answer and marked the proper multiple choice selection, he loved it. “Five! Yes! The answer is five!” he would cry in delight as his hand worked below his belt. After he always whispered,

You are so…so… smart. And cheap, too. I’m a lucky guy.

I liked the visits. I always enjoyed praise, even in the form of backhanded compliments. I also liked getting high during the date rather than waiting til after. I never told guys I was a user if they didn’t know. Drug use freaked out normal people. And the guys paid less for goods even more damaged than they thought.

WHATEVER HAPPENED TO HIM?

He is dead now. Suicide by hanging I heard. I also heard overdose. Who knows? Revenge killing perhaps. Maybe he sent the wrong person back to prison by getting high with him then ratting him out.

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Published by X-Streetwalker Turned Sex Talker

Caroleena used to be a drug addicted hooker on streets of downtown Honolulu in the early years of the 21st century. She was not the only learned streetwalker among the sex worker addicts. This group would have been a liberal college admissions officer's dream of diversity seeing as how they represented such a wide range of ages, races, family types, locations of origin, education levels, and gender identities. The two constants were trauma and dependency. Everyone out there had experienced life altering trauma which spurred them to seek refuge in drugs. Addiction was the unexpected phenomenon that kept them stuck in the dope. This downtown area was different from other drug saturated areas of America in one important way. The U.S. is the most violent country in the world, but in this corner of the nation there were no street gangs, no gun violence. You wouldn't get shot but you were probably going to be beaten up and robbed at some point. Interpersonal violence between intimate partners, friends, and family members was viewed as a natural part of being close to people. "Domestics" was something an individual brought upon herself or himself by causing problems in an interpersonal relationship. Caroleena, the perennial pariah even among society's rejects, had no intimate associates who might harm her. Prostitution was not as risky on Oahu as it was most everywhere else because the island was just too small. Everyone was somehow connected to everyone else with only something like two degrees of separation. You commit a crime, someone will know who you are and someone else will know how to find you. Hookers rarely got killed. Honolulu's relative safety allowed Caroleena over 10 years of street longevity until the scene ended when authorities started arresting men for allegedly soliciting undercover police for sex and posting their pictures on the evening news. ExpertEscort2018.com/ tells Caroleena's adventures during her decade of addiction and its consequences--homelessness, prostitution, drug dealing, incarceration, family destruction, the list goes on. Every story relates events Caroleena experienced, witnessed, or imagined. The tale of this outcast is skillfully and paradoxically told in the language of the elite. The wording of the posts is itself a testimony to the wide grip that addiction has on all levels of society, even impacting the privileged who were previously thought to be immune to the troubles of the lower class. During these days of opiate addiction maybe she can answer some questions and present applicable solutions. If not, you are still in for a hell of a good read.

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    1. Hi Fenestrae! Thanks for communicating with me. While my project is still small I have the ability and privilege of meeting with everyone who reaches out to me. At the same time I don’t want my blog to be misunderstood, mistaken as a dating mechanism. I will lose all blogging privileges and I won’t be able to make a go of what promises to be a big deal. So, I’ll meet with you. For companionship, as a demonstration that it is possible to do escorting in the strictest sense if the word. As in, accompanying another.

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