Our Saving Grace- The Stories Before The Captive

OSG- Niall's Part

Our Saving Grace- The Stories Before The Captive 

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Part Six: Niall's Story 

Told By: Niall Horan 

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Have you ever been pushed out of your house, onto cold, wet streets, where you must beg people to have sex with you for money? Have you ever felt so dirty that you stand under the shower head with the water as hot as it goes but it is never hot enough to boil the feel of another person's hands on you? Do you know what it is like, to be so dirty in your own mind, to be so gross, just the thought of yourself makes you vomit? Have you gone days without eating because your clients like you on the skinnier side, the unhealthy side, the perfect prostitute size? Have you ever wanted to end your own life, even when you wear a fake smile on your face? My life was horrible, it was all those thing, plus more. I was cheap, even for a whore, my price low, so more people would want to be my clients. Some prostitutes when they got beat up by a John, well, they would never have to see that John again. I was no so lucky, I needed each client I could get, even if they beat the shit out of me.

You see, my parents are poor and even though they both work jobs, it's not enough to pay the bills or the rent for our house. My parents never continued their education, didn't even finish college, so they couldn't get good jobs that paid well. I couldn't get a full time job, I'm too young, only being sixteen and I wanted to continue want education I was getting. My brother was off on a fancy scholarship to I-DON'T-GIVE-A-FLYING-FUCK University, leaving his younger brother behind to try to help the family survive. I had to have a job only at night...something that would bring money in quickly...I didn't get the idea of prostitution until my dad had a friend over, an older man, who was always staring at me funnily. "Listen Bobby, I know you're really low on money...How about I give you a thousand pounds to take yer sons virginity? That is if he even is an arsehole virgin, which I doubt with that hot arse." He was a vulgar man, who made my inside twirl and made feel like I was going to throw up. A thousand pounds was money we didn't have though and before my father could say anything, I agreed to the man's terms, my family needed the money he was offering.

About a week later, the man showed up at my doorstep, handed my parents the money and took me to a degusting motel. He forced me to take my clothes off and to lie on the bed face down with my arse up in the air, he told me to wait while he undressed. I heard each teeth of the zipper as he undid his trousers and the soft thud as he threw all his clothes into a pile. I heard him rip open the foil packet that held the condom and the pop of the lubrication bottle, my heart beat started to pick up when I heard him sliding it onto his harden member. I wasn't experienced in the art of gay sex but I knew he was suppose to prepare me first, he was suppose to stretch me open with his fingers but that wasn't going to happen. Before I knew it, he was pushing himself into me, hard and not waiting for me to have time to adjust. He kept pounding as I screamed in pain, kept moaning as I cried out for help and when he was done and pulled out. He laughed at my torn hole; laughed as it bled from his torture, then he left me there. Left me bleeding on a cheap motel bed, that's when I realized I was cheap, when I realized that I wasn't worth much and that's when I decided to sell my body for money. 

It was like trading your soul to the devil, once you decided you were going to do it, there was no going back. After I healed up, I started standing on street corners, dressed in the tightest clothes I owned. I would stand outside of bars and clubs, mostly, waiting for some poor sucker to come my way and pay to have sex with me. There was always many, some of them offered me more money than what I originally asked for, some of them paid me just to beat me up, some of them...well...Some of them asked for some really weird things but if they paid, I would do it. One time, I even allowed this guy to cut me across my chest with a knife, he gave me three hundred pounds for it and how was I to say no? It was all for the love of my family, every time I sold myself it was for my family, so it didn't matter to me how much I got hurt. After the first time, it was like I wasn't Niall James Horan anymore, I was just another whore.