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  Confessions of a Craigslist Call Girl

  Volume 1 – San Francisco

  By Traci Sparxxx

  This ebook is licensed for your personal use only. It may not be reproduced, resold or distributed to any other persons without the author’s permission. Thank you for respecting the rights of the author.

  This ebook contains subject matter that is mature in nature and no person under the age of 18 may purchase or possess it. All character names and places described in this ebook are fictional and any resemblance to any persons, living or deceased, is coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 – Secrets

  Chapter 2 – Antwan

  Chapter 3 – Business as Usual

  Chapter 4 – Things Change

  Chapter 1 – Secrets

  When I was younger, I used to think that secrets were just things that you shared with your best friend. They provided you with a common bond that nobody else shared with you. Imagine my surprise when I grew up and later found out that secrets can also be the things you are too ashamed to share with anyone. What do you do when your secrets are no longer the glue that binds you but instead become the very thing that would cost you those same friendships, were they known?

  I have more than my share of secrets, most of which I am not proud of, yet here I am prepared to divulge them all to perfect strangers, and why? Well to answer that question, I will simply say it is because the therapist assigned to me by the court wants me to confront my demons head on and she feels as if, by my writing them down I will be forced to see everything as it is, as it was, and hopefully, let go so it will never be again.

  Do I believe this will help cage my demons? I guess if I am being honest, and I am or else this is all just one huge waste of time, I believe that my demons will always exist, how could they not? I do have high hopes however that by facing them I can reclaim some portion of my before life. Time will be the final judge.

  Are you ready world? Pull up a chair and settle in as I tell you how I became a Craigslist call girl.

  The year was 2011 and I had just graduated from the University of Southern California. I was a twenty - two year old college graduate, keep that in mind. I was not some under educated teenager. I had not run away from home. I had not been molested while growing up. If anything, my life growing up had been one filled with happiness and laughter. I was an only child. Can you say spoiled? I spent my parent’s money freely on clothes, concerts, and the latest phones to hit the market. I know, most people think of a prostitute as coming from a troubled background, a broken home, or being abused while growing up. I had none of those factors. Why do I include this? I want to show you, the person behind the screen, that my very first secret is that if this can happen to me, it can happen to anyone. Lose the thought that it can’t.

  Now, where was I? Oh yes, I had just graduated and like many of my classmates, I still had no clue where my future lay. I will say I never pictured it being this screwed up but it is what it is or was or whatever. In my final year of college, I had met a young handsome football player named…well, you don’t need his name. We had planned to get married “someday” and I honestly thought he was the one for me. I was so naïve.

  We did move in together and had a beach house in San Francisco, which we could not afford, but we were in love and you could not tell us anything. My parents of course objected. They liked him enough but they thought we should save money before getting ourselves into debt. My father would get angry when trying to talk sense into me and the last words he said to me before I moved out were “If you leave, you can’t come home.”

  Later as bills began to pile up and arguments over money or really the lack of money to be precise, became more and more frequent, I learned what a jerk the man wanting my hand in marriage could become. He would buy beer and we would argue. He would then drink the beer so we would argue more. Before it was over, he would be drunk and I would be either locking myself in the bedroom or he would end up locking me outside. I thought of going back home several times during this but I didn’t think I was welcome at home anymore. Do I blame my parents for this? I did for a while, now I am facing the fact that I got to where I was because I refused to make good decisions. I have nobody to blame but myself.

  One day I returned to the house, after working a full shift at the local IHOP, and found an eviction notice on the door. I waited half the night for my boyfriend to return so we could discuss what our plan should be but when he finally showed up it was in a moving truck and without saying a word, he took everything he owned, except my heart, he left it laying trampled on the floor. I had no idea what to do next.

  Since there was absolutely no way I could go home and face my parents, I struck a deal with the landlord to catch the rent up. I would pay him an extra hundred per month until it was current. For this to happen, I took a second job cleaning rooms at a Motel 6 a few blocks away. It was part time work but occasionally another girl would call in and I could pick up her shift. It was here that my life really spiralled out of control.

  I had worked my forty-hour week at IHOP and another thirty that same week at the motel and I was still going to be short on rent. I made the mistake of asking the night manager for a loan until the following week. I never expected the answer I got when he said I could “earn” it.

  As I stated earlier, I was a college graduate but I was naïve as hell. I asked how I would be able to “earn” it and he told me to use my imagination. An hour later he told me to follow him to one of the rooms. This was not unusual as often guest’s rooms are not cleaned to the managers liking and one of the maids will be asked to go reclean it. As he let me into the room, I turned to ask him what the issue had been with the room when he asked me “how bad do you need that loan?”

  I replied that it was a matter of life and death to me at which time he pulled out a wad of cash, it had to easily have been five hundred dollars. I need to fully describe now what I was seeing, here was this creepy, smelly old man offering me money for sex and believe it or not, the concept was still going over my head until he peeled off a one hundred dollar bill and said “suck me if you want it.”

  I thought of running out of the room that very second but I had no choice, or in my mind I didn’t, after all I was told I could not go home. I had made my bed and now I would have to lay in it. I closed my eyes and dropped to my knees praying he would cum fast.

  I was so disassociated with the entire act I was performing that I wondered how it could possibly have been any good for him. I never opened my eyes and did my best to ignore the pungent smell coming from his balls which he had probably not washed in days. Just remembering it now has me sick to my stomach but again, it is what it is. I needed the cash.

  I wish I could say that is where everything ended but that would be a lie. He had learned I could be bought, especially the week before rent was due. It wasn’t long before he wanted to fuck me and it wasn’t long before I let him. I did not enjoy it, he was overweight and smelled as I mentioned before. I might have even been able to overlook that to some degree if he at least had a decent sized cock. He was only about four inches long fully hard and he was always pulling back too far until it popped out and I would have to reach down and guide him back inside. He was inept in the sex department. I only hope that he someday reads these words and realizes what a shitty human being he was and what a worthless fuck.

  One Tuesday night, a few days before rent was due, he approached me and told me that I could earn double the cash that night but only if I agreed to let him and two of his friends have me at the same time. I took my break early and called my parents number. I heard my father’s voice when he answered “hello”. I heard him say “hello” twice more…then, without uttering a word,
I hung up and went to the room I knew my manager would be coming to. I spent the next two hours sucking cocks and getting fucked. I even had my first anal experience that night. It hurt like hell and I can say that although over the years, I had that experience again and again, I never did get used to it.

  When that night ended, I had decided a few things, first was that I hated my father even more and second that I could rent a hotel room and if I was smart I could at least start picking some johns that were attractive. Fucking old creepy men was just not my thing. Life may have dictated that I become a whore but I was going to have a say in my clients.

  There was a hotel down the street that I had heard of other prostitutes staying at, so I got myself a room there and I would stand on the parking lot and talk to any cute guys that happened by. If they had money and wanted to play I was definitely down to fuck. During this time, I began to learn more about fetish sex as well. This happened by accident one night when I had picked up a john and he asked me if spanking me would be extra. I had no time to think so I just blurted out, “yes, that is an extra fifty”. He pulled out his wallet and as he fucked me doggie style he spanked first one ass cheek then the other until both glowed bright red. It hurt but at the same time it didn’t. If anything, for the first time since breaking up with my boyfriend, I was enjoying sex. I orgasmed and got paid to do it.

  I began to make enough money just having sex that I quit my job at IHOP entirely. I could now sleep all day if I wished. I set my own hours, I always had cash and occasionally I would find a john that actually knew how to fuck well enough that it wasn’t a chore. I was making it on my own and if things had stayed that way I would have probably quit without a court ordering me into therapy.

  I became friends with all the male cab drivers and when some guy would leave a bar and ask the cab driver where he could get laid, he would be driven directly the hotel, and the driver would ring my room. I always paid the drivers a referral fee, some wanted cash, some wanted their cocks sucked. I did what I had to do to keep the cash coming in.

  One day while visiting the hotels vending machine to grab myself a Fresca, I ran into another lady staying at the hotel. “You’re gonna get yourself busted” she whispered to me. Thinking I had just been threatened, I am the naïve one, remember, I asked her what I had done wrong. She began to explain to me that nobody with any sense would be working the parking lot, I needed to place ads on Craigslist. This was all news to me and I told her so. We ended up going back to my room where she spent the next few hours teaching me some “survival rules” as she called them.

  I learned to post my ads and how to get my phone number past the bots that crawled the ads looking for numbers to add to telemarketer’s lists. I learned to ask anyone that called if they were associated with law enforcement. I also learned not to mention money but instead to ask for a donation of “roses” as you could not be charged with selling ass if there was no mention of money.

  She taught me about pic collectors, guys that responded to every ad asking for a pic so they could build their home porn collection. None of these were serious buyers and they never would be, they just wanted our pics.

  Later that night as her phone began to ring and she was setting up her “dates” for the evening I realized that I had so much to learn still. There was more to being a prostitute than simply sucking and fucking, you had to be intelligent enough to earn your money without getting caught, beat up, raped, or catching a disease as well.

  I managed to begin saving some of the money I had been earning during this time as well. Whenever I spoke to my mother on the phone, I would make up stories about getting promoted to being a manager at work and never let her know what I was really doing. This was my shame to bear.

  One night I had set an appointment to meet my john at my room at 7:00 pm and he arrived at 7:15. I was furious, time was money and I began to explain this fact to him. He could now either cut his time short or he could pay more for the 15 minutes of my life he had wasted. He agreed to pay the extra money but when I reached for it, he produced a badge and handcuffs.

  I had my Miranda rights read to me and I was marched outside and placed in the back seat of his unmarked car. I was going to jail for prostitution and had nobody I could trust to come bond me out. I began to cry and beg while explaining that my parents were going to kill me.

  “How old are you anyway?” The officer asked.

  When I told him I was almost twenty three he pulled over into a dark parking lot, cut off the ignition and began to speak again.

  “Well, Ms. almost twenty three, the way I see it is you have two options. I can take you down and book you at which time you can call your parents and tell them what a dirty little slut their baby girl has been or you can plead guilty to me and I will dish out your punishment as I see fit.”

  Nevertheless, I chose option two as it was the only one where my parents weren’t finding out. We drove for around twenty minutes more when he pulled off on a deserted road that seemed to have no houses on it. He never even took the cuffs off me. I was forcibly pulled from his car and bent over the trunk where he was anything but gentle.

  The entire time he kept telling me what a filthy slut I was and that from now on he would be fucking me weekly. To make matters worse, another police car, this one marked, pulled up shining their light on us. At first, I thought he was going to be in so much trouble over this but they ended up being his friends coming to join in. By the time, I made it back to the hotel I had been fucked in every hole twice and had not earned a penny.

  After that, I had to set Wednesdays aside with no appointments because that was the day they had chosen to remind me what a slut I was. This lasted for at least four months.

  Are you still with me, readers? Are you shocked? Trust me, I am too. Looking back I can place a lot of blame on everyone except me if I want but when I really look closer I can see every bad decision has been mine. I should have called home. I should have went home. Pride can really fuck up your thinking.

  O.k. , breaks over, let’s continue…

  Chapter 2 – Antwan

  I met Antwan one day as I was lounging by the pool. He was light skinned for a black guy, around six feet tall, and built like a professional football player. To say he was cute would have been an understatement. At first he kept glancing my direction which I of course noticed but in my efforts to appear aloof, pretended not to. Finally, he approached me. In his very large hands he held two mixed drinks which he then offered one to me.

  I accepted the drink but just sat there playing with the straw as he began to ask me all about myself. I know what you’re thinking and you would be wrong. I did not just open up to this random stranger which is kind of strange when I consider how easily I am telling a bunch of random strangers my innermost secrets now.

  Instead, I opted to tell him my name was Becca and that I was visiting from Washington state. We talked for hours by that pool and even had a fast dinner of pizza he had delivered. It wasn’t until after I returned to my room that I realized there was no way I could allow myself to fall for a guy, any guy. How does a girl go about explaining that she sucks cock for a living. I decided if I saw him again to just tell him I had a boyfriend and wasn’t available.

  The next day I saw Antwan again at the pool but he had two other girls with him so I didn’t know if I should walk up to him or not. Opting to just grab a lounge chair and enjoy the sun, I was surprised when he approached me again. “Here with your sisters?” I asked, half-heartedly hoping he would say “yes”.

  “No, my employees” he replied. Damn if I didn’t feel like an idiot now, Antwan was probably just one of those early twenties entrepreneurs and here I was thinking of him as a player. He sat and we spoke some more although he offered no explanation as to what his business was. It wouldn’t be long before I found out though.

  That’s the thing, for his part, Antwan looked like he would feel comfortable in some multi-million dollar board room. Nobody would have thought any di
fferent. I noticed anytime his employees wanted something to drink or something to eat, Antwan whipped out his wallet and paid without hesitation. I briefly considered telling him that for the right price he could have me in bed without any of the meaningless small talk but why ruin a nice day. Not everyone likes what I did nor would he probably understand.

  I set my appointments that night for all after midnight hoping that Antwan would not see anyone coming or going from my room. I really did not want to explain to a guy I had just met my choice of profession. Especially not to a guy that seemed to have all his ducks in a row. That entire thought just petrified me.

  That night came and went rather uneventfully if you can say having strange guys coming to your room to fuck for money was uneventful. I have to admit to being nervous though, not just of Antwan finding out what I did either. Ever since that officer had produced his badge that night I had become increasingly scared of getting arrested.

  Each john that I saw now, had to convince me that he wasn’t associated with law enforcement. It was bad enough having to work for free each Wednesday. I damn sure didn’t want to go to jail.

  I awoke the next day around 11:00 a.m. and walked outside to find Antwan by the pool again. He informed me he would be going out of town for about a month but hoped to see me again when he returned. I assured him I would be there to which he replied “When do you leave to go back to Washington?”

  Shit! I had forgotten telling him that lie about just visiting and had to think fast. “It looks like my company may be opening an office here and I will be staying to get things set up so as of now, there is no departure date”.