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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13796
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You left home. I imagine you had a bag packed with the little a 12 year old can carry, and had a small sum of cash with you. This is kind of a big composite question.
Did you have any idea what you were going to do in order to survive?
Had you even realised that prostitution was possible (I was a naive 12 year old, it would not have occurred to me, if it did to you, why was that?)?
Did you start by thieving and begging in order to live, or did you start turning tricks at once?
12 year olds are small. Men aren't. How on earth did you cope with knowing you could be killed any moment of any trick?
What went through your head the first time you plied for hire? And the first time you were hired?
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13796
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Not that I want this to be a manual for how to become a teenage prostitute, but, if that is truly what a kid needs to do in order to survive then I see nothing at all wrong with telling them how to be safe. And, come to that, with showing them alternatives. I have no interest in the morality of prostitution, it's always seemed to me to be honourable, but I am concerned about safety.
So,
How did you know where to look?
Since I've always assumed that the best pitches are 'owned' in some way, how did you make yourself acceptable to the other kids and any 'owner'?
I also want to discuss, a little, this aspect:
> "What went through your head the first time you plied for hire? And the first time you were hired?"
>
> Remember, by the time I was 12, I was already fairly experienced with Man/Boy sex. I said before my first was when I was about 8. But, I think my first thought was something like, "Wow, and they pay me for doing what I want? COOL!"
A few years back I met a young man who became a friend. He was a working boy, though 18 or so. If you look at Poetry Corner, Petyr sent me some poems for the site. I met him during a weekend's hire. We were at a birthday party and he was already there with his client, a man into boys substantially younger. I arrived with an adult friend and a 17 year old lad. None of the three of my party were in any sexual relationship, nor will we ever be. But the look on Petyr's face was horror. He looked as if he thought he had been hired for an orgy that was not to his taste at all. The weekend became a good one for him. He has simply drifted out of my life, but we became good friends. With encouragement he went back to college, but he dropped out.
But the look on his face when we met stays with me. And, as we chatted, he told me how he spent most of his earnings on drugs to enable him to ply his trade, because he hated being for hire. Not all men are sweet smelling, considerate, gentle, caring, pleasant, decent looking, slim...
So please tell me how you found the ability to enjoy it?
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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