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Image for the poem True Confession Of A High-Class Whore

True Confession Of A High-Class Whore

A self-made whore in the making through initiation by a very powerful secret sexual society in college that still exist.    
 
The rewards, gifts were astronomical, free college tuition, off living campus, the money in a prestigious bank account I had a proxy to maintain until twenty one-for security and legal purposes, which I never wanted for nothing from the high maintenance, other than for a real boyfriend.  
   
The physical training on the body is brutal, the microscopic examinations, the traveling doctors, the bodyguards, more like drill sergeants, affluent connections, upper unchalet interactions, depraved fetish requests, the videos, the mansions, oh so many mansions, the panic room BDSM desires of wealthy husbands, while their wives watched on a monitor screen, while playing with their expensive looking clits, then have paid to have their climax licked into submission, the special private hidden rooms, constant traveling at a whims notice when your number is requested, paid for; or for special favors or for a more fair-skinned exotic flavor, which was quite often for a Key5.  
   
And remember I was in college for nursing during this time, which if I flunked, I will be disavowed and ousted.  
   
This lifestyle I have outlined, was and is still so surreal, unimaginable, adventurous to a young and naïve mind. In the beginning, oh, it was an eye opening experience, as if you are sitting on top of the world and for a French Creole young lady from Santo Domingo in America, it was... wow, thanking my lucky stars each night when cramming for those quarterly exams, the shopping, the first-class pampering,.    
   
The plush carpet my stilettoes crushed under my feet when boarding, the smell of private jet leather seats, the takeoffs, counting the stars... oh, it was so grand.  
   
Then you have the secrets you have sworn with your body, heart, mind, the blindfolds for hours to unknown destinations you never knew existed in this lifestime, the distorted nepotisms, the brainwashing, authority figures in key society bidding for ludicrous sexual excursions, the orgies, the special requests, the silence, the mental secrets, disengaged from family, friends, the lying to one’s    self this is acceptable, the list of  judgements goes on and on.  
   
And a small emblem of a Key 5 (a very beautiful barcode) imbedded by a hot poker, I still cringe with that action back then, I can still smell my burning flesh the day I sold my soul, however, in a secret place on my body for identification purposes, and then having to initiate by blood, literally among other deeds I cannot ever disclose.    
   
The lifestyle may appear glamorous, which was and still is at times, but at the cost of selling one’s virtues, as I look back, it isn’t worth it, however, I am paid for before any deal is ever made or granted, for some reason, I am the last to be made aware of, off to the jet as I would say.  
   
This narrative is the tame existence, any other secrets spillage, such as what you have read, my existence will not be accounted for, and Key5 has been changed to protect the identity of that upper level to immorally and sexual prestiage, and others branded like me by flesh and blood to this day.  
   
The maximum age for burnout from this lifestyle, I would say is 23 (Five years top, anything beyond that the mind goes chaotic with too many regrets, then you are on a couch, spilling those secrets, you have sworn to uphold and protect at all cost).  
   
Within the span of those years, you have progressed to an entire higher plateau. You have graduated from college with honors, ‘placed’ by association and now your presence is more resourceful with your Bachelor’s Degree, you were ‘deemed’ to get, was ‘warranted’ you would get, at your own discretion, but by ‘their decree’.    
   
Years later, now you stand there and orientate to a roomful of eager incoming black hooded selected inductees, butterflies churning while giving the beautiful element of this lifestyle, omitting the degrading facets to the soul.    
   
The empty sheets, difficult to sustain an everlasting relationship, childless by fault not by design, yet, money piled high in several banks, you could spend at your heart’s desires, wishes, travel to any destination in the world, open a business, return to college, tuition already paid before you sign the admission papers, but no love, no trust, and safe sexual liberations you tend to engage at your leisure or pleasure.    
   
Your body becomes your treasured weapon, your monetary gains in all capacities is what you have been conditioned  to believe.    
   
I am writing a book, in regards to sexual secret societies which is more common than one would contemplate, and please do not misinterpret my motives as white slavery, or sex trafficking, that would be so degrading to say in the least.    
   
This private initiative process is more complex by society’s standard, it is protected, legal, inducted by secured invitational only, and hushed on all levels of the globe; nationally and internationally.  
   
Every pawn in any game must give credence to protect the King and the Queen, and once a member, always a member.  
   
Thank you for reading on such a soulful confession, it has taken me many years to finally mentally accept.  
   
SKC
Written by SweetKittyCat5
Published
Author's Note
Summary to She Ain’t Nothing But A Gold-Digger

SKC
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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