My experience being a prostitute overseas: “我在国外做妓女的经历”.

I

There is an old English saying, if you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life. This was me when I signed up to become a prostitute.

I won’t deny—perhaps in some remote part of the world, away from the civilizations and societies that I knew and grew up in, worlds that I’m a stranger to and to which I’m wholly ignorant—women are still being coerced into prostitution, sex trafficking, and sexual slavery. For me, that has never been the case.

I worked as a prostitute because I loved having sex.

Even just using the word “prostitute” to describe myself brings so much warmth to my heart. I loved being a prostitute. I loved being the center of attention for so many men. I loved the fact that they were paying me just so they can have sex with me—sex, which I once thought should have been freely given to the person I loved. Even before I became a prostitute, I often had wet dreams in which I dreamed myself being a prostitute and gang banged by multiple men.

***

There is an old Chinese saying that says the dragon gives birth to nine children, and every one of them is different. Some dreamed to become scientists, lawyers, engineers. I dreamed to become a prostitute.

Counting from my first customer, I had been fucked by no less than a few hundred men. Some of them had fucked me to blissful orgasms that was so pleasurable I was willing to pay them to keep on fucking me. Some had cummed inside my pussy and I risked getting pregnant. Some had fucked my ass and came inside me. Some had made me swallow their cum. Sometimes, in one night I’d have sex with a dozen different men, from dusk to dawn, and next morning I couldn’t even stand on my legs because how sore my pussy was and my jaw hurt from having sucked so many cocks.

And yet it was never enough. Even right after sex—after a man had just came inside me—I was already thinking about the next penis that would be entering my pussy. It was like my pussy was constantly on fire, and the only way to put out the fire was with cocks, but the cocks themselves bring in more fuel than water, and the cycle returns.

My life was consumed by a never-ending fire, like a prisoner being burned alive inside the bronze bull of Phalaris.

***

Another old Chinese proverb says: when you walk by the river bank, it’s impossible to not get your shoes wet.

The risks associated with being a prostitute was why I eventually stopped. Besides the risk of getting STDs and other risks to my health, there were some other legal concerns. it was getting boring anyway and I was thinking about moving onto some more fun experiences.

And I did have a pimp, to make no mistake about it. And the pimp had a Chinese wife who was in charge of all the girls. The pimp gets to use any of the girls for free, and so does the Chinese wife. For instance, they could say, we want to test you to see how you will be serving your customers, and so why don’t you take off your clothes and show me what you have learned. For educational purposes, all the other girls must stand around and watch.

Having a pimp was necessary because there’s a lot of dangerous men out there, and the the pimp has the connections and the experience in the business to keep me safe.

What can I say about my pimp? I’m actually really fond of him. He was tall, ruggedly handsome, and had a pot belly and a bold head that was typically of a middle-aged westerner. His penis was big, thick, and of average length (by American standard) but more important of all, he was what you would call a serial womanizer, a lady killer. He knew female psychology in and out. All the girls who had sex with him would end up having an orgasm, and sometimes multiple orgasms.

Having watched him in action, and having been tested by my pimp personally, I think the term to describe what he does is “pre-heat the oven”. He knew how to get women horny, and once the women were horny, our pussies would be on fire and as soon as his cock enters our pussies, we would be screaming in orgasm.

***

Some wise man once said, you gain the heart of woman through her pussy, and once you gain her pussy, her IQ drops to zero, and she becomes your slave.

In front of my pimp, I felt like a little pet. If my pimp tell me to fuck a client for free, I do it. If my pimp tell me that a client doesn’t need to wear condoms, I listen and obey. If my pimp tell me to strip naked in the middle of the street, I would not even hesitate. He was like a god to me, and sometimes, I imagined, this must have been what Jesus was like.

Sometimes I may not be happy with his decisions, of course, but I always knew he had my best interest in mind.

So he and his wife, at the peak of their business, managed 100 girls, most of whom were Chinese; a few were Korean, Japanese and Vietnamese. We were ranked on our beauty, personality, and sexiness and were sent to different customers based on our rankings. The prettiest ones were sent to accompany multimillionaires. The average looking ones had sex with Mexican migrants. And the kinkier you are, and the more accommodating of sexually deviations, the more money you made. Some girls were average looking, but they were masochists and enjoyed being whipped, spanked, and beaten. Some girls are “three holers” and can swallow cum, piss, and whatever else their customers demand them. So the customers who were into that kind of stuffs paid a lot of money to do that with them.

And let’s make no mistake about it, I repeat, none of us was coerced into this business.

***

How do I fully demonstrate to you how much fun I had working as a prostitute? Once a customer brought me to his five star hotel. We had sex and then slept together. He enjoyed my company and told me he would like to bring me on a trip, so the next morning we drove to the airport and I sat in his private jet and went to a private island where we had more sex for an entire week. I never learned his real name. and he never learned mine.

II

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some innocent Chinese girl who were green to the trade, and no, I’m not some airhead who were desperate for money either.

I went to high school in America, did my undergraduate at an American college. After I got my BA in economics I went back to China to work at an international corporation, as I’m originally from China and fluent in the language. After a year I went back to America to complete my graduate studies and later worked for an American company.

“Anyway, so why are youwriting all this?” You might ask. Oh, where do I even start? I was once a prostitute by profession, and I’m not ashamed of that, but I also have a heart, feelings, and I also have had a life that was lived to the fullest.

If I were asked that question, I would tell you, “because I want to show you the other side of life. Life is not just about sex. And the sex worker that you fuck also have a life of her own. And she has a beginning, and eventually an end, just like every other human being.”

While I was doing my undergraduate I was roommate with this tall, drop dead gorgeous American girl. I’m actually 5 feet 7, and I always considered myself tall, but she was nearly 6 feet tall and her boyfriend was even taller. At least 6 feet 3. And her boyfriend would come over at least once a week to “hang out” with her, you know, “netflix and chill” and then they had sex. Whenever her boyfriend showed up I always got really red in the face. Sometimes they had sex when I wasn’t in the room. Sometimes they slept together overnight and even though I couldn’t see what they were doing, I was able to hear things. They also discussed what they did, occasionally in front of me. From what I heard, it seemed, they were very sexually liberal.

At the time I was still a virgin and when I talked to him, I actually stuttered a bit because how hot and attractive he was. But he was a really nice guy and he said he was absolutely fascinated about China and wanted to learn Chinese. And his girlfriend, my roommate, was very sweet, and seeing how shy I was, encouraged him to interact with me more often.

One semester her boyfriend enrolled in a Chinese class (so he was seriously about learning Chinese) and, to help him, I started giving him one-on-one Chinese lessons. We set up a study time and did it in the library. I was really attracted to him and it was really hard for me to hide it. I was so flushed in the face whenever I talked to him and I was giggling and laughing at everything he said. But of course I knew he had a girlfriend who was my roommate so I tried my best to deny my feelings for him.

You know how Edith Wharton writes about “that insensate and agonizing desire that was difficultto assuage and impossible to satisfy?”

Well that was how I felt whenever I did not see him. For nearly a month, I was not able to see him. He and his girlfriend went on vacation together to Europe. And it was during this period that I lost my virginity at a Friday night party. Me and my few Chinese girlfriends went to parties together and I had sex with a guy I barely knew. He looked vaguely like him. He was tall, had a goatee, with blue eyes and brown hair and as soon as our eyes met I started grinding him and he put his hands around my neck and pressed his groin against my ass. I was wearing my sexiest clothes and I pushed my ass back against him and before the party ended, I went back to his department and we had sex. He put on some soothing American music and as I lay back on his bed I imagined him to be my roommate’s boyfriend. At the time I felt like such a loser.

After the semester ended my roommate and her boyfriend moved off campus and we barely saw each other ever again. I still gave him Chinese lessons but I could no longer see him laying on the bed with his blonde, fair American girlfriend next to mine, and I felt an emptiness inside me.

***

To make myself feel better, and in the hope to meet my own prince charming, I decided that I needed to meet more people. So I started giving Chinese lessons to other students around the campus as well as to people outside of the University. I posted ads online, and met people in coffee shops, libraries, and their homes. I got to know so many different people. All of my customers were men, since I advertised myself with a picture of myself in my online profile, a brief introduction about my background, and charged quite a lot money for an hour of one-on-one lesson. It was implicitly understood that it was not as simple as learning Chinese.

To use an American idiom, if we insist calling a spade a spade, I was working as a prostitute, and at the time I was barely 20 years old.

And I was incredibly turned on by the fact that men were willing to pay exorbitant amount of money just to be with me. The word “prostitute” felt so sinful, rebellious, and sexy, and, even back then, I felt I was destined for it. “Whore,” “Slut”, “Cunt”, “Bitch”—words that my customers used to describe me, none of those slang-ish, derogatory words packed the same energy, evoked the same image, as the more formal description of what I do, what I am. A prostitute. A Chinese prostitute. Who has brought shame to her family, her nation, her race. It felt so satisfying to my heart.

After I lost my virginity, I was more emboldened and I had discovered just how pleasurable sex can be. And during those lessons I freely accommodated their inappropriate behaviors, like certain sexual innuendos, inappropriate touchings, as long as they were willing to tip me big.

I also started to learn what men liked., or specifically, what white American men liked For instance, I learned that they liked a woman to have a shaved pussy. So I started shaving my pussy. They liked black stockings. So I started wearing black stockings. They liked high heels. So I started wearing those. They liked a woman to act coy and demure in public, and slutty and kinky in private, and that was exactly what I was really good at.

My most memorable client—and he was also the most generous one—insisted that I wear tiny short skirt, high heels, a tiny crop top, and no panties when I went to our study sessions.

In the previous few study sessions, we have established what I was. He had initially tested the water by starting with questions like, “how do you say I love you in Chinese?” “How do you say you are beautiful?” “How do Chinese people express love to each other?” “What nicknames do Chinese lovers have for each other?”

Then the touching. Bear hugs when we meet. Putting his hand on my lap. Massaging my shoulders. Kissing me on the cheeks.

It was incredibly fun but also very scary because eventually he started putting his thumb in my mouth and asked me to suck on it. He also played with my nipples through my bra as I sucked on his thumb. I pushed him away and I told him that I was a very innocent girl and I didn’t know if this was appropriate. He assured me he loved me and he wanted me to be his girlfriend. I told him I already have a boyfriend at home in China, I wasn’t ready for foreign men, etc.

I don’t know if it’s generalizing, but I feel lying just comes so naturally to me as a woman in those situations.

“Lying is the most fun a girl can have with her clothes on.” I’m suddenly reminded of this line from an American movie I watched when I was in China.

I didn’t have a boyfriend at home. I was doing all this just so he could give me some remunerative compensation. I told him about our cultural differences. I told him in China if a man wants to marry a woman, he had to give her family a large sum of money. I also told him that my family back in China was very poor. My mom and dad had to work 20 hours a day to save enough money for me to attend college in America. I told him the story about my dad losing a finger during a factory accident, and in order to save money, he did not have the severed finger re-attached, and went back to work with one finger missing immediately after the incident, so every time I didn’t study hard enough, my dad would raise the hand with only four fingers, and show me what he had to do to pay for my education. Apparently Americans are so gullible they’d believe everything. The story I told is true, but I just read about it on some Chinese newspaper. But the horrors of whatever I was telling him so affected him that he was willing to lavish lots of money on me. And of course, because he gave me the money, I did everything he wanted, and tried my best to fulfill all his fantasies.

One time, we met in a very fancy restaurant to “study Chinese”. I started by sitting opposite of him, but then he moved his chair to the side of me and told me to spread my legs a little so he could finger my pussy, and when he felt that I really didn’t wear any panties, as he had instructed, as he was able to get a direct feel of my bare pussy under my skirt, I could physically see, through his bulging khaki pants, that his dick got hard.

At that moment, I actually felt really good about myself. It was like I had gotten into a top tier American school all over again. But I still pretended to be really scared and innocent, and to be honest, I was.

He grabbed me by my wrist and we went into the men’s bathroom together, locked ourselves in a stall and I got my knees as he pulled his cock out and shoved it into my mouth. I just twirled my tongue on the tip for like a minute or two before he grabbed my hair, and I felt gushes of cum going down my throat. I pushed him away in that instant and a big blob of it landed on my face. It was warm, slimy, and nasty. I tried to spit out the portion caught in my throat, but they had already traveled down to my tummy. It was the first time I swallowed cum. It tasted horrible, yet at the same time I felt really happy. Then I wiped my face, redid my makeup. We went back to our dinner date, well, our “study session”, and after desert, to my amazement, he got hard again. We went back to the bathroom. He pushed me against the wall and fucked me doggy style and cummed again in like a minute or two. He came inside me without a condom, and again, it was a first time experience for me. For an entire week afternoon, I felt myself raked of his semen. I did lament the loss of my innocence. I did even cry alittle. But it was part of becoming a woman. Sooner or later, every woman lose her innocence. There was nothing to lament, I learned.

****

And it was worth it because I finally learned what it got to get the man I wanted. I must know how to fulfill a man’s fantasy. Apparently, for this guy, his fantasy was to have sex with a woman in a men’s bathroom stall in a fancy restaurant, and to fulfill that fantasy, he was not just willing to jump through a lot of hoops, but also to spend lots of money too.

“Once you get into a man’s brain, you can control his whole body,” I summarized.

My experience have finally gained me enough confidence that I knew what I needed to do to win over the man I wanted.

During this time—while I was working as a “Chinese language teacher”—I was still giving my crush free Chinese lessons. Of course I knew he was still living with his gorgeous blonde girlfriend but through artful conversation I was able to deduce that things weren’t going so well. I didn’t even have to ask directly. I gave him the same bullshit that I gave to all my clients. Also I intentionally left my laptop on one time so he could see my profile online where I advertised my little side gig for teaching Chinese.

One day he told me he saw my ad inadvertently (he even apologized “for the intrusion”) and he asked why was I still giving him free lessons, and I told him because you never asked me, and he said it was wrong that he was not paying me and insisted that I charge him and then I told him then that if that is the case then I needed to give him the same service I gave to those other men. He got the clue and we French-kissed in the library.

A month later he dumped his girlfriend and I became his new girlfriend. After I graduated, we parted our way amicably. One day, I received an email. He told me ever since leaving me he could only date Asian girls. I felt so sinful knowing that I have infested yellow fever to yet another innocent, young white boy.

In a way, the loss of innocence was mutual, and I felt warmth inside my heart that was going to accompany later on as I went on to become a full-fledged prostitute.

III

To the men around me in the polite society around works, schools and casual social gatherings, I’m a well-educated, independent, respectable modern Chinese lady. I have good looks, stable income, and when it comes to romance and sexual partners, I have very high standards and look for the best, and do not easily offer myself up.

But that is the facade that I show in polite society.

When I’m around my customers, I want them to know in no uncertain terms that I’m a Chinese slut, a yellow whore, an oriental cum dump; and I make sure that they know they can use me as such. All my customers are wealthy foreign men, mostly American. I refused to serve Chinese customers, no matter how much money they were willing to pay. I was very adamant in that regard. I was simply not attracted to men who were of an inferior race. On the other hand, in front of men of the superior race, I don’t want respect. I need to be used, degraded, humiliated, turned into a pain slut, a chink pig, cummed inside, pissed on, spat on, ruined, destroyed, and made to completely obey. The less respect they showed me, the more turned on I was. I cannot fully explain the psychological dynamics but it was simply how I felt at the time.

Counting from my first stint as a “Chinese language teacher”, to the various roles I had taken in the luxury hotels when I was working in Shanghai, I have worked at a total of 7 different venues as a prostitutes in the span of three years, sometimes as an independent girl, sometimes under the umbrella of an organization, and sometimes being managed by a pimp.

Recollecting now, I have to say the most memorable time was still when I was owned by the American pimp, while I was in America. I said owned because he had turned on incredibly and I had freely given my pussy to him whenever he demanded, if he demanded. Many of the prostitutes he owned were similarly turned on by him. It was like his penis had cast a spell over our minds. He owned us mentally, psychologically. Physically we were free.

In fact, a lot of the girls who worked as a prostitute for him started out as his girlfriends. He had a thing for Asian girls and nearly all the prostitutes who worked for him were Asian, including his wife.

I’d say that I was managed more often by his wife than by him personally.

To be able to have sex with him was considered a privilege among the girls, and it was not unusual that fights would break out among us fighting over each other for that privilege. Men may not know about the wars among women, but they can be as wild and cruel as the wars among men.

Sometimes I still dream of going back to my pimp, my owner, begging him to tie me up, and have all my holes available for whomever he chooses. Spit roast me. Double penetrate me. Do whatever he wished to my body.

I’m still young and I still have time to figure out my life. And perhaps that is why I have written this long piece, to reflect and recollect, and to be able to discover myself, and explore the world.

Please do not confuse me with Jennifer Suzuki or any other posters on this site. . This blog is managed by three people. I was approached by one of the admins to participate and I felt curious enough to join. The subject matter of the website attracted me. There are not a lot of places where I can so freely express myself.