For several months we spent a few days together at a time, maybe once or twice a week. In between, I would go back to my normal duties of cleaning and pool servant.
The other women want to know how it is going with my new man. Part of me does not want to talk about it. Partially not to mess it up with gossip, but also I feel protective of the relationship. I should not delude myself, I have become a fuck toy for a rich man boy. Never would have guessed I would end up here.
Other parts of life here go on as usual. Parties, beatings, rapes, gifts, praise, some of it is cyclic, some periodic, it never ends.
There are so many incidents of abuse I don’t want to list them all. I am sure I don’t hear about most of them. Few of the incidents stand out against the background of it all. Standing, sitting, at the bar, in the pool, everywhere they grab my breasts, ass, crotch. They do it with a smile. Always with that look in their eye like they know they can take it anytime they want. They know we are powerless to stop them. It is hard to predict when it will happen, or what might deter them. Some men respond to a smile when they grab us, but others enjoy that we’re frightened or disgusted. It turns them on, and makes the situation worse.
I try to think about the good things. The sun and the wind. We are given drinks on a regular basis. The men like to see us drunk. Often we pretend to be drunk, while spilling part of the drinks, when no one is looking, or taking them behind the bar unfinished. It does not help to become too relaxed or intoxicated around here.
Projects: