All of us doing sex work remain in danger because of criminalization and because of the “work” of the abolitionist movement. – Jill Brenneman
Regular readers have seen me refer to Jill Brenneman on several occasions before, and she commented extensively on my February 7th column as I had hoped she might. You see, Jill is what many prohibitionists like to claim we all are: a woman who was forced into prostitution in her teens by a brutal pimp. But though she participated in the prohibitionist movement herself for several years (and really, who could blame her?) she was open-minded enough to see the truth and reason in the arguments for decriminalization and intellectually honest enough to be repulsed by the lies and misrepresentation rampant among the prohibitionists. She thus became an outspoken advocate for sex worker rights, and her unique perspective makes her the one person whose opinion on the “sex trafficking” issue I most respect. After the aforementioned column appeared Amanda Brooks suggested I interview Jill, and I thought that was a fantastic idea so I contacted her and she generously agreed. The interview was conducted mostly via email on February 11th-13th and completed by telephone on the 13th, and though Jill suggested I edit it down I have done this as little as possible because I wanted her to be free to tell her story in her own words. At first I was hesitant to ask direct questions, but she assured me that nothing I asked would faze her and that was absolutely true.
Jill is the same age as I am, 44, and has a rather raspy voice due to the throat injury she mentions in tomorrow’s portion of the interview. Her parents threw her out of her New England home in May of 1981 after she told a school counselor she had been sexually abused, and over the next couple of months she hitchhiked her way to Cincinnati. It was there on July 3rd that she had her ill-fated meeting with the freak who did his level best to destroy her, the sadistic pimp named Bruce. The next four days will not be enjoyable reading; the first two parts are the most graphic, disturbing narrative I have yet published or am likely to publish again, and I must caution sensitive readers to consider carefully before proceeding. The interview is quite long, but Jill and I both feel that it’s important to show the ugly side of the world of prostitution as well as its attractive side; our opponents are liars, but we are not. If we hide facts which might make us look bad we are no better than the prohibitionists, and the suppressed information would then become a weapon in their hands. The truth shines light into dark places inhabited by filth like Bruce; and Jill understands, as we hope most people will one day, that only decriminalization will grant free whores the power to help the law to uncover these monsters and liberate the girls they victimize.
Maggie: Would you explain, in as much or little detail as you feel comfortable with, how you became entrapped by a pimp?
Jill: It was a rainy day, I was hiding from the rain. I was homeless, hungry, dirty, totally alone. This really attractive man came up to the table, bought me lunch, told me about his entertainment agency, about his skyscraper headquarters, how he only hired the most beautiful women in the world. I told him I looked awful, he said he could see me through the runaway teen veneer. Which got me to open up to him why I ran away, that I had no one to call because it was more a throwaway than a runaway situation. He offered me an audition at his headquarters. I asked him if it was prostitution, he got pissed and walked away saying I wasn’t professional like he had believed because it was a really stupid question. I caught up to him, begged him for another chance. He agreed on the condition that I didn’t ask any more questions. We got to his car, he was the total gentleman opening the door for me, etc. When I got in the car he told me that because his agency was so popular and famous there were always corporate spies trying to get in thus I would have to be blindfolded. The idea scared me but I was fourteen, with no other options other than to go back inside the mall or sit outside in the rain. So I agreed. He gave me a hat and sunglasses to cover the blindfold. As we were driving I could hear the road sounds weren’t matching his narrative of the drive. He was describing driving into a major city, the sounds all sounded like we had gone to a more rural area. Which we had, we went to northern Kentucky. When we finally stopped, I heard him click a garage door opener. He explained it was to get into the parking deck. We got out and he explained how we were going to go downstairs to his office. I could hear the garage door closing, could smell the basement. I knew it was all wrong and started to shake and cry. He saw the tears coming out from beneath the blindfold and he went nuts shouting professionals don’t cry unless they don’t get the gig. I still had a chance but was going to have to strip to my underwear and do bikini pics. I hesitated for a second and he leveled me with a slap in the face. I was shocked at how hard he had hit me. He told me to get the fuck up and strip like he told me to, then he brought me up some stairs onto a stage of sorts and told me to put my hands over my head. He put them in some kind of leather straps and dropped the floor out from under me. He let me hang for a while, probably 10 minutes or so. It really hurt a lot to hang like that. He told me I could have the job or I could hang there until I died and he would dump me in the river. Who was going to care if they found me? No one was even looking. I agreed without hesitation. He whipped me a lot of times, he shoved things inside me then let me down and raped me. He gave me a contract to sign which said that I was his slave, that I would do anything he said, would never break the contract, never try to gain freedom. I didn’t read it that closely as he told me to sign and I signed. He brought me to a closet, handcuffed me, blindfolded me and told me not to make a sound and not to move and that he would be back later to start my training and that if I went to the bathroom in the closet I would pay a huge price.
Maggie: What a horrible, horrible thing; obviously you were intelligent enough to know from the beginning that something was wrong, but the voices of hunger and desperation drowned out those of intuition and reason.
Jill: I knew the whole situation was wrong as soon as he said I had to be blindfolded. But I wanted to work, wanted a place to sleep at night, a place to take a shower, food etc. I was sleeping in cemeteries. So I was really desperate when I got into the car with him.
Maggie: Was his treatment of you consistently horrible or did he mess with your head even more by rewarding you when you were “good”?
Jill: Constantly horrible. There weren’t any times where he did the mindfuck thing of telling me I had done something good or that anything deserved a reward. If anything I think he was repulsed by the idea of any kind of reward for me. My sole purpose was to be hurt physically, sexually and emotionally, often to the farthest lengths possible either to fulfill his need for sadism or to bring in more money from clients. He owned me, I was a slave, that was reinforced every day. The only sense from me that seemed to interest him was pain.
The only affection scenarios I ever saw from him were when we role-played that we were boyfriend/girlfriend in case the police started asking questions, or if I was in the ER things like that where we had to pretend to be a couple. We role-played those until they were second nature. I never tried to escape even when I had plenty of opportunity, like when he would take me to the mall to get clothes, shoes, get my hair colored. I tried to escape once and it was a loyalty test to see if I would. Needless to say it was really bad, so bad that I was totally unwilling to do anything to risk the amount of pain of the escape night ever again. My thoughts weren’t ever about trying to escape again but often were on why he wouldn’t just kill me and that I was a coward for not being able to endure the pain of the process I would have to live through before he finally did end my life.
Maggie: If he didn’t ever use reward, the punishment he subjected you to must’ve been horrific to break you down so much you didn’t even try to escape.
Jill: After the first 2 or so days in the closet, Bruce abruptly pulled me out, told me we were going to start my training. He took me to another room which was his dungeon. I couldn’t even conceptualize what most of the equipment was. I hadn’t ever seen anything like it. He laid out the first rule: If I screamed even once no matter how much it hurt and made it possible for anyone to hear me, that he would throw me in the Ohio River as promised. He also told me not to try to tell him to stop, not to beg him to stop, no matter how much it hurt because I had no right to speak first and beyond that my only role in life was to please him and the clients. How I felt had no relevance and eventually he would train me on the right time to beg and the right methods so that it was sexy for the client. Right now we were just going to learn what everything was. He had equipment for suspension bondage, for water bondage, for asphyxiation. There were huge dildos. It became such a blur of torture that the daily rapes became largely a non-issue to me. The sex was the least of my traumas. His favorite was like a crucifix but lying flat rather than standing upright. The idea was to bind my hands and feet then use some kind of winch to pull it so tight I could actually feel the cartilage between my ribs. With his weight on top of me I literally couldn’t breathe, which got him off in a minute every time. We spent weeks training until he felt I was finally ready to take clients.
To be continued…
OMG Maggie!
Thank you for this. I cannot think of what to say, only that this man should be dead! I know Jill must have suffered a lot, I did as a child because of my Mother, but never like this and there were times when I thought she was going to kill me.
I never had a pimp other than a few greedy agencies that tried to take half my money, charge a huge “Escrow”, give me all credit card calls and not pay me. I finally told them that I could Pimp myself. I know Jill was very young with no place to go.
My heart goes out to her.
Waiting for the rest of the story.
Joyce
I don’t know what to blog today after reading this. I just want to get under the covers and cry. I know this story ends well but I hope that bastard got what he deserved.
This is a very moving piece Maggie. Thank you.
I am looking forward to learning more.
I feel like I need a shower after that. The monstrous depths some people can reach never ceases to amaze me. I cannot even begin to fathom the thought processes it takes to commit such acts to a scared, vulnerable young lady. Ugh.
I don’t think creatures like Bruce qualify as human; the term I would use is “monster”. 🙁
I really wanted to not define him as human, because I find it distasteful to be associated with a creature like that even if it’s only similar biology, but I don’t want to jump too quickly to the stripping of his being human. It almost feels as if it takes away from how morally bankrupt and reprehensible he is. If I call him a monster, I can rationalize away his actions. However, if I recognize that average people can have a great capacity for inhumanity or turn into such monsters, that it keeps me on my toes more. I feel like it’s important to realize that even folks who seem nice and normal may have a great capacity for what most people would call evil.
I’ve read this comment a couple of times and I don’t know how to make it more coherent. It’s really just rambling thought processes that I haven’t been able to place logically, so take it with a grain of salt I guess. It definitely comes of more as scare mongering than I meant.
I read parts of Jill’s story over at the Deepthroated blog. It’s the most monstrous bad luck to have crossed paths with this sick fuck. I would hate it if this Bruce person were still out there victimizing women and girls.
This would be a good time to remind people how important it is to have 24/7 youth drop-in centers. In 1981, they were virtually non-existent, especially in medium-sized cities like Cincinnati. But many youth drop-in centers today have to cut back due to lack of funding. But as Jill’s case illustrates, a place for a young person to come to is soooooo important, even if the place is not open all the time.
exactly.
perhaps we would all be better served to have the money currently invested in investigating, arresting, and prosecuting consenting adult sex workers instead invested into such programs.
Maggie, you are intelligently and critically showing the sickening side of women’s oppression. I can’t help but think about all the others being tortured in our society. I’m thinking of Bradley Manning, the justice system, Guantanamo, and extraordinary rendition. Besides toturing humans, causing suffering and pain reminds me of the folks who reveal truths about CAFOs, or foie gras, or shark finning. Most people like good food. But, a lot of producers get into the most abhorent methods to bring it to the table. Please do not think I confuse us women with meat. My point is more Ecofeminist. I believe that as long as we look away from the torture and terrorization of nature, women (and any enemy of the moment) will absolutely fall prey to the same abuse. Humans have the ability to understand themselves and create institutions that either promote our dark nature, or endeavor to prevent and ameliorate it. Looking at ourselves is hard, but important. OK, off my soapbox. I guess I intellectualize when I hear of such suffering and abuse. I am so horrified by what happened to Jill and in awe of her sophisticated ability to reckon with it honestly, in public, and in close detail.
well….an early earmark of a psychopath is torturing animals…so that absolutely makes some sense.
I am bothered on many levels by this story. As horrific as Bruce’s treatement of Jill has been at this point in the story most of my rage is not directed at him.
I am hating her parents more than anyone in this story.
There are countless ways Jill’s story could have ended, almost all of them are tragic (to say the least), but take out the fact that her parents exiled her from all she knew at the age of 14 and those tragic ends decrease in probability exponentially.
Though I know I will be thoroughly outraged, disgusted and saddened by this week’s set of columns…I do thank you and Jill for bringing this story to these electronic pages.
Kaiju, we’re on the same page. I also blame the parents; the idea of throwing a 14-year-old girl out is so outrageous to me that it boggles the mind. In their own way, the parents were as monstrous as Bruce was. 🙁
Jill is the most amazing person I know. She has been through this hell and has come out the other side as a compassionate, intelligent human; probably the most rational person I know. She is forgiving and tolerant, has a huge heart and a wicked sense of humor. When I first learned the details of her story, she had to help me deal with issues it raised for me. She’s worked as a counselor for battered women. I can’t say enough good things about her.
Her courage is beyond easy comprehension.
I’m glad you’re putting her story out for a new wave of the anti-trafficking crowd to read.
XX
What. The. Fuck.
That is just so wrong on so many different levels…
Is it wrong of me that my first reaction is to want to know where Bruce is so I can introduce him rather violently to both ends of my 9mm?
Dunno. But I still wanna know.
Dammit, Jill, I’m so fucking sorry that happened to you. It really just makes me cry 🙁
In obvious terms, this is the fault of a psychopath.
In broader terms, this is “society’s” fault. “Society” blames “prostitution” because they don’t want to face the blame.
I think it’s damn well past time for “society” to own up.
Jill, I am so sorry that you had to go through this. I’m also glad that you are no longer in this hell. Your story is indeed exactly what prohibitionists want us to believe is every prostitute’s introduction to the job. As we learn on sites like this that the rape and torture of young girls is not the ubiquitous thing that the prohibitionists want us to believe that it is, it’s good to be reminded that it isn’t all fantasy, that it does happen, to real people.
As I read this, I felt the anger towards Bruce and towards your parents that others have told of. I also found myself wanting to not believe it, wanting to believe that something so intensely evil had to be made up. But I know that Maggie would never put such a story out as true unless it were true. And so I do believe, as pleasant as it might be not to.
The next time I hear of a young girl being forced into prostitution and I catch myself thinking, “yeah right; everybody’s forced,” I will stop myself and remember that no, not everybody is, but some are. There ARE other Jills out there, and they are as deserving of our concern and support as the Maggies.
Amen to that! A sincere attempt not to become dogmatic is what every self-respecting activist owes him/herself.
I don’t think I can say more to Ms Brenneman than what the others have already said.
All I can say now — this was quite a shocking beginning — is that it would be perfectly understandable if Ms Brenneman had become the most outspoken anti-prostitution crusader in the whole movement. An experience like that; the mere thought that others might also have endured or be enduring an experience like that; an attempt to picturing thousands going through this, would be enough. I could easily imagine a mind becoming closed to any further evidence solely on account of the strong and horrible emotions caused by such experiences.
That Ms Brenneman did not, speaks volumes about her inner worth, her value as a person, and the idea that we are not simply feathers in the wind, ready to be torn apart by horrible experiences.
It is bad enough to be betrayed by your own Parents…(I know the feelinig), but then to fall into the hands of that psychchopath????? How do you ever TRUST again?
Jill is a very strong woman. My heart goes out to her as does my admiration.
JOYCE
@Joyce, I learned to trust again because I met people that had friendship and love to share and did. I saw what humanity was supposed to look like and eventually realized there was reason to trust.
Thank You Jill,
I wish I had your gift and your strength.
I survived my Mother and said I will never have to survive ANYONE else without pay back , so (I) probably would be sitting in prison somewhere now, had I went through what you did with the Psycho (Bruce).
I was staying with one of my screeners once, a big guy.
He got mad and threatened to throw HOT WATER
from a tea on my face. I looked him straight in the eye and said “Do it Mother Fucker, but don’t go to sleep!”. He knew I meant it and put the cup down. I can stay awake A VERY LONG TIME if need be.
All The Best,
Joyce
@Joyce,
Whatever strength I have has been learned over time, mostly focused on living to my own sense of right and wrong and doing what my heart tells me is right regardless of the potential consequences. Then again, in doing the right thing and paying the consequences I probably have mortgaged most of the strength needed for the rest of my life.
I too would have responded toward the screener as you did. I don’t handle that kind of threat well as it brings out the fire in me, and would have left me pissed either way. If he had done it or if he hadn’t because I despise a coward who makes threats. I have so little tolerance for someone with a mouth full of threats but not the stones to act on them.
Bruce is a different story. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was aggressive with me about everything. Nothing was simple, everything about my life was controlled. Being hit in the face and bleeding from it was considered by him to be blatant defiance that required a major response. Everything was like that. He simply sucked all of my emotions out until he had what he wanted. My energy all went toward trying to do exactly what I was supposed to in order to avoid making anything worse than it had to be. I never found a path toward wanting revenge against him. The idea of taking him on in any way even now seems totally overwhelming. At some point I realized something with him. He won. I had no chance against him and have never shaken that feeling.
His victory over you was a temporary thing. You are living your life today, and you don’t have to have Bruce’s permission to do anything. You can laugh, cry, or pick your nose and not worry if he approves.
The bast revenge is living out from under his control, and you are doing that. He made some mistake, probably something small like an unpaid traffic ticket or small theft, and he lost you. He was winning, and he made some silly mistake and lost.
It’s not uncommon for somebody to be getting away with a huge crime, and get caught because of something small. Tim McVeigh was pulled over because of a missing license plate. We might still be looking for the Oklahoma City bomber if not for that.
@Sailor, I have to say I hope you’re wrong. If he made a stupid mistake that lead to my freedom, and Rocky’s, unfortunately it probably lead to someone else having to take my place.
My freedom may have come at a huge cost for someone else.
I’m sorry, I should have been a bit more… expansive? Not sure of the right word.
What I mean is that it probably was something small that attracted the attention of law enforcement in the first place. It could have been as simple as running a red night and not paying the ticket. But once the searchlights were on him, whether (initially) due to rape or jaywalking, more stuff would be found. To use the example of McVeigh again: it was a missing license plate that got him pulled over, but that isn’t what he was executed for.
Also, once he was in the system, it would be harder to get away with anything else. If he got out and tried to do to somebody else what he did to you, he almost certainly got caught.
@Sailor, you probably are right. Although there is irony that they literally walked into another case with him and missed it.
Cops aren’t generally known for their perceptiveness. 🙁
Cops who are perceptive don’t work regular old arrests. They become detectives and, Hawaii 5-O not withstanding, send uniforms in after they’ve figured it out. The unperceptiveness of regular cops has been being pointed out at least since Sherlock Holmes was first published.
As I’ve said before, police work attracts the best and worst that society has to offer. Those who want to make the community safer, who are willing to put themselves at risk for the sake of others, and for low pay. Unfortunately, any job with power attracts those who want to abuse it. After all, you can’t abuse power unless you have it.
This is not shocking to me at all. A few years ago, I was ‘involved’ with a sexual sadist….online and by phone. He made many of the same threats, and the humiliation and shame I felt was traumatic.
He was in Canada, and very concerned about his reputation. They all are, these monsters who appear as men.
He was a writer and wrote horrific pieces: stories of abuse and torture and this wasn’t to sexually arouse. Perhaps to him, but then….he was a sexual sadist.
I ended the ‘relationship’….but did see him physically in the end…with my husband there to protect me. He was this balding, very unattractive man who could only attract a woman via a computer. The truth? I would have passed him on the street because he was so unremarkable.
These people use incredible mind control, domination and power to fleece woman of respect, dignity and confidence.
It takes years to recover, and for me, the only real abuse was mental. It was a horrific time, but I survived it. Accept for the flashbacks. Therapy helps, but it has taken me two years to even start to discuss it.
It’s a long way back, but there is no other route.
Lady Nyo
[…] makes me happy and sad at the same time is the story of Jill Brenneman which you can start to read here as a four part series. A follow up Q and A post begins […]
[…] can read about JillB here and view the follow up questions and answers here or see […]
[…] My longtime friend Jill Brenneman is in dire need of financial help due a terminal medical condition. I’ve mentioned Jill on here now and again. She was part of SWOP-East and has an unusual history. Part of that history can be read at Sex Workers Without Borders, part of that over at Bound, not Gagged and part of it over at Maggie McNeill’s blog. […]
[…] are veterans and heroines of the sex workers’ rights movement. As a teen, Brenneman suffered years of of brutal abuse in which she was coerced into working as a professional submissive. In the early aughts, Jill made […]
[…] actions of the last two years, you have to understand her past. You can read about it over at Maggie McNeill’s blog and get the gist of […]