I m looking for a sex slave

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Every year, thousands of women are trafficked to New York City from Latin America, and lately China, to work in brothels and massage parlors or as out-call prostitutes. Statistics are hard to come by because the trade is hidden and victims rarely come forward — blocked by language barriers, leery of law enforcement and fearful of vengeful pimps who threaten to kill their families.

Last month, eight members of a gang of pimps pleaded guilty in Brooklyn federal court to racketeering, sex trafficking of minors and human smuggling. Each member of the Rendon-Reyes gang — a family enterprise that terrorized and trafficked girls and women for a decade — faces life in prison. The year, it interviewed Sandra, 30, is one former I m looking for a sex slave slave helped by Sanctuary for Families.

Kidnapped from her hardscrabble hometown in central Mexico and forced into the sex trade at age 19, she escaped her pimp-captor in and has received counseling, legal aid and health care from the group ever since. Wanting to protect her family, Sandra declined to provide her last name.

I always wore a tight, short skirt and stilettos. I would nod off in the car. I had a different driver every week. One day, over the span of 16 consecutive hours in Boston, there were 80 men. Alfredo beat me, refused to give me food or even water. I was also forced to hand out the cards to potential customers. Sometimes the cards had pictures of nude women. Everyone knew what the cards really meant; that the on the back was to arrange deliveries of women.

Some of the men were day laborers. But some were well dressed, in suits. For that price, the men could do whatever they wanted with me. I had never been a prostitute. I did nothing wrong, but I was raped every day for the four years that I was a prisoner. There is a lot of hunger and poverty where I come from. I have 16 brothers and sisters, and sometimes I would come home from school and there would be nothing to eat.

I only completed the sixth grade, and then I stayed home to help my mother. I met Alfredo by chance when I was I was doing errands for my mother in the center of town when he approached me. He was also 19, and he said his older brother was looking for help in his cellphone store.

I gave him my homeand a few days later, he called me and offered me the job. After working for a week, Alfredo told me he liked me a lot. He said he wanted me to meet his parents and asked me to go with him to another town, which he said was 30 minutes away by bus.

And then another hour passed, and it started to get dark. I panicked. You have to understand that I had never left my little town in my whole life. I kept asking him where we were going, and he insisted he was taking me to see his parents. After more than four hours, we arrived in Mexico City.

'I Was My Dad's Sex Slave; Anything He Wanted, I Had To Do'

At the bus station, we took another bus for two hours and then a taxi to Tenancingo. All of the houses are newly built and everyone seems to drive new cars. They have an Easter parade where the pimps march down the main street showing off their prostitutes.

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He gave me a sponge soaked in alcohol and told me to insert it. I was tired and hungry. I had only had a bottle of water and the cookies they gave us on the bus. She handed me some skirts that were too big, and a thin packet of pills.

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She told me that they were for birth control. Later, Alfredo came to my room. He ripped off my jeans and raped me. It was my first time. I was locked up in the house for days, without food and water. When I saw Alfredo again, he said we were going back to Mexico City to visit another sister. I had no idea what a prostitute was. I told them there was absolutely no way I was going to do that. One day, we went to La Merced, the red-light district, and I was I m looking for a sex slave to the street of the whores. They put me on a corner where there were other girls with short skirts and a lot of makeup.

I was told that I could only lift my skirt for that amount. If men wanted something else, they would have to pay more. Out of that money, the hotel managers would take 45 pesos. I had to clear 1, pesos per day. I started off with only five men and tried to tell the others who approached me that I was unavailable.

But as the days passed, I eventually got up to 30 men per day. I was in a lot of pain. He promised not to put me on the street anymore, that he would find me a job cleaning houses. His sister, who lived in Corona, would help, he said. I also had a sister living near Washington. It took us two tries to cross the border. The first time, we were traveling with his sister-in-law, and we were caught by border patrol. They asked if she was coming back to teach me to work the streets.

The sister-in-law pinched me under the table, a warning to keep my mouth shut. In New York, Alfredo began to trust me and gave me my own cellphone, mostly to keep track of my appointments. But he still beat me. Once when I was speaking to my mother on the phone, and I tried to tell her the truth, he yanked the phone out of my hand and kicked me in the stomach so badly that I started to hemorrhage.

His sister gave me a glass of beer mixed with a teaspoon of sugar and forced me to insert the sponge. I was doubled over, and my insides were on fire, but I had to get to work. Alfredo used the money I brought in to build a house in Mexico and buy a car for his father. He also bought himself expensive clothes and gold chains. He gave me a tiny gold medallion of the Virgin of Guadeloupe, which I wore around my neck. One day, a year after arriving in New York, I called my sister and told her everything. She said she would help me.

It was after the trip to Boston and the 80 men that I decided to make my getaway. During that trip, one of the customers tried to rob the brothel and pulled a gun on me. He let me go when I told him that I had already called the police. It was a bluff, but miraculously it worked, and he left.

But I realized then I needed to escape this life.

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A month after returning to New York, I began packing my clothes. Alfredo came in, and we started fighting, and he began throwing my clothes out of the suitcase. I put them back, and we went on like this for some time. I told him if he hit me that I would scream so loudly that all the neighbors would come or call the police, and I would tell them everything that was going on. He was so furious that he yanked the Virgin from my neck and knocked me to the floor. But I just got up and walked out, without my clothes or my suitcase.

I called my sister and went to the Mexican Consulate. They sent me to Sanctuary for Families. They helped me get a visa to stay in the US. They also arranged a visa for my mother, who had been threatened by Alfredo and his own family of pimps back in Mexico. I think he moved back to Mexico. I am helping American authorities track him down. I hope he gets arrested. I want justice for what Alfredo did to me, and what others continue to do to poor Mexican girls. I have a 5-year-old son, who is not the result of my past life.

I need to learn English. I work in a restaurant now, but I want to go to culinary school to become a chef. This is my dream. After everything, I still have hope. Contact The Author Name required. required. Comment required. May 6, pm Updated October 3, pm. Sandra J. The woman pictured above is not Sandra. We were delivered like pizzas. I was born on a farm on the outskirts of a small town of barely 3, surrounded by mountains. I met him at the bus station, and while I went to the bathroom, he bought the bus tickets.

The coyotes left us stranded for days in Laredo until we could arrange for a van to take us to New York.

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We arrived in Queens in February Sandra, who now dreams of becoming a chef. Rice It was after the trip to Boston and the 80 men that I decided to make my getaway. Now she is selling her cookies online. Share This Article. Sorry, your blog cannot share posts by .

I m looking for a sex slave

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How A Normal Girl Like Me Became Somebody’s Sex Slave