"At Night"

When I was seven years old, my dad's uncle would come into my bedroom late at night and touch me in very unlike uncle ways! I knew it was wrong for him to do what he did and I wanted to tell someone but I was afraid. I felt that in some way it was my fault. I didn't want my dad to kick him out, he had nowhere else to go. He was family. So I kept it to myself. Through the course of two years the molesting continued.
I wish I could say that that he was the only one. But I can't and he wasn't. During that time, my dad was doing the same thing. He never went further than touching my "not yet developed" breasts. Still, I hated when he did that. I wanted him to stop. I told him to stop. But he told me to be a good girl. And so I was.
I'm now 20 years old. I live a good life. I live a fast life. I drink heavily. Have lots of sex and like to dominate men. I get paid very well for what I do. Yes I make men pay me to have sex with me. It's a privilege I indulge on a selected few. I don't do drugs. I go to church. I confess my sins. I have a family. Dysfunctional as it is, but I have one. I graduated top five percent from college. I have a degree in Journalism. I write a column for a prestigious woman's magazine. And I whore myself out at night.
I guess it all started one night during my senior year in high school. I was on a date with the "crush" of the week! Geeky, nerdy, accident prone he was, but he was so cute! And he drove a mustang! I gave him my first blow job. I didn't even know what I was doing. But he seemed to enjoy it all the same! I think I may have hurt him though! I was inexperienced, trying to suck something that I had never sucked before. It was awkward. But interestingly enough, I liked it. And so did Julio. That was his name. In fact, he liked it so much he wanted it all the time. Well, I didn't want to do it all the time. So if he wanted it that much, "What's it worth to you?" I asked him after he was practically begging me to go down on him. We were in his car, breathing hard and sweaty after a serious make out session.
"What do you mean?" he asked almost innocently.
I batted my eyelashes at him and smiled. Then I put my face really close to his and said, "If you want me to make you feel good, you're going to have to pay me..."
I can't describe the rush I got from saying that to him. It was fantastic! My heart was pounding and the blood in my body was boiling.
"Pay you? Are you serious?"
I smiled flirtingly at him and said "Yes" almost in a whisper.
He was seventeen years old. How much money could he give me really? I knew that. I just wanted to see if he would do it. And he did. That night I was paid $22.00 to suck his cock. No penetration of any kind. I was only sucking that night.
That was almost four years ago. I now charge anywhere from $100.00 to $1,000.00 a night. Of course I do more than suck at this point.
There are a handful of close friends that know of the double life I lead. They along with my sister hate it and have asked me to seek help. Help? What kind of help could I possibly seek? Imagine going to the psychiatrist and saying, " By day I'm a normal person. By night, I turn into a prostitute, slut, whore, whatever your choice of brand is!" Besides, I didn't want help. I enjoy what I do. I harm no one. I am not married. I have no children. I don't even have a dog. And I'm making money -the old fashioned way.
At my father's funeral, I couldn't control my crying. The tears just would not stop. To this day I do not know if I was crying because keep up with the life I lead. I suppose until I feel vindicated or feel. I've punished myself enough.
I lost my innocence a long time ago.