Petala Parreira

Bia
33 times impregnated –
"The worst rape
in the history of Brazil" (?)

Vila Velha, ES, Brasil, 2021

Impressum
Text: © Copyright by Petala Parreira
Original: Brazilian Portuguese 2019/21
Cover: © Copyright by Irene Rupf Santos
Traduction: Arantxa Elpiro and Josefa Elpiro Kill
Joga pedra na Geni,
Joga pedra na Geni
Ela é feita pra apanhar
Ela é boa de cuspir
Ela dá pra qualquer um
Maldita Geni
(Throw stones at Geni,
Throw stones at Geni.
She's there to be spanked
She's good for being spit on
the damn Geni.)
(Song by Chico Buarque about a hooker)
 5

Content
Foreword ..................................................................... 6
Notes on politically (in)correct language in this book ... 9
Bia and the tale of the "worst rape in Brazilian history"
.................................................................................. 14
Background information: The brides of drug gangs . 120
Background information: Girls prostitute girls .......... 124
Epilogue .................................................................. 138
About the author: ..................................................... 155

Tags: rape, violence, favela, slum, Brazil, Rio de Janeiro, mass

rape, drugs, drug lord, drug gang, negress, negro girl, naked,
slave, prostitute, hooker, forced prostitute, prostitution, girl, vagina,
anal, oral, fuck through, bang through, riding in, breaking a whore,
mulatto, young whore, prostitution, getting, gang rape, whore
 6

Foreword
When a girl is raped, she usually receives help,
psychological support, and the majority of society
does not condemn the girl.
However, when the girl is raped and beaten by
several men until she submits and promises to
become a prostitute and work for them, she must
henceforth open her legs to thousands of clients
without receiving psychological care. Society
assumes that there is no rape, since the customers
pay, even if the girl gets little or no part of the
money. The responsibility of the customer and
society ends with payment.
The girl only receives consolation, warmth and
solidarity from the other prostitutes, only in
exceptional cases from one or the other customer,
who sensitizes himself to the difficult situation of a
hooker. If she makes a very good job, she will get
warmth from her pimp, but this warmth is only
given for to make her work better. In truth, the
pimp feels nothing for his whores, or at most what
farmers feel for their animals, but most prostitutes
depend on that affection an do everything to
please their “master” and “owner”.
In their vast majority, they are not "depraved" girls
who see prostitution as a means of both pleasure
and quick money, but rather they have been forced
to sell their bodies. Some are forced by poverty
and circumstances and sacrifice themselves to
earn money for a child or a sick or needy relative
or family in general. Others are forced by their
families, husbands, fathers, mothers, stepmothers,
 7

friends, pimps or others to spread their legs under

the pretense of needing money for a special
burden or to pay off a debt and are given only a
choice of beatings and even torture or to obey their
relatives, pimps, minders and customers.
Many have sensitive souls and could express their
feelings and thoughts in poems, stories, songs and
pictures as poets, writers, singers, preachers,
politicians etc., but the compulsion to constantly
"work", that means to be raped and being available
16 hours a day or still more, and the hypocrisy of
the society usually leaves a whore no room for
that.
Through the network "Hookers for Jesus" (in Brazil:
Piranhas para Jesus) I came into contact with
many colleagues who were forced into prostitution
 8

and who experienced and suffered unbelievable

stories. I have collected reports of this kind, and in
my two collections of stories, “The Prostitutes Tell”
and “The Prostitutes Tell II”, as well as in some of
my other books, some of them have the
opportunity to open up and release something from
their lives and their thoughts.
In 2016, when the scandal called the “worst rape in
the history of Brazil” hit the headlines in the press
(even abroad), I immediately tried to get in touch
with Bia, the main person and victim. When I found
her Facebook, I was appalled because while some
expressed solidarity and compassion, the majority
of her Facebook friends abused and threatened
her. I wrote something in solidarity and asked to be
in touch with her in a personal message, but the
next day Bia completely deleted her Facebook and
I lost contact. I was only able to discuss and learn
a lot about the background with many of her
friends or former friends.
Only months later did I accidentally get on her trail
 9

again through an acquaintance and asked her to

arrange a meeting with Bia for me. Unfortunately,
this was not granted to me, but at least I received a
detailed statement in which Bia tried to clarify her
point of view. I decided to gather all the information
and publish this book so that everyone can get a
full picture of a world which some may find unusual
and very strange, others quite normal, but which
must seem absurd to an unbiased reader.

Notice:
Photos and posts taken from social networks often
contain racist and other questionable content.
They have been taken verbatim so that the reader
can get an idea, and of course they often do not
correspond to the personal views of the author of
this book. Black or white bars were added by me.
Some names in the story were alterated.
 10

Notes on politically (in)correct language in

this book

In the Brazilian prostitute associations, one of the

big figures was Gabriela Leite, one of the few
hookers who wrote a book by herself. She was like
a motherly friend to me and she always told me:
we are whores (in Brazil: putas) and not sex
workers or anything.
What she meant was that saying we're not hookers
or not prostitutes or not whores doesn't help the
fight for prostitute rights. What good would it have
done to Jews in times of persecution to say they
weren't Jews at all, but just another Christian
church? Then the fight for recognition of Judaism
as an equal religion would have been over.
Or imagine that the Germans in the years after the
Second World War, out of shame at having
allowed themselves to be tempted to commit acts
of violence and crime, would have said: "I'm not
German at all, I'm Central European", or "I am not
German, I'm Bavarian" or "I'm from Lower
Saxony".
Then the Germans would never have gotten rid of
their bad reputation.
Maids or house cleaners perform a socially very
important service, but this is often not recognised.
In this case, they try to change that by constantly
changing their job title, for example to cleaning
technician. But that's just a sign of a lack of self-
confidence.
 11

There are groups that suffer much more from

ridicule, but do not have the idea of denying their
profession, origin, descent, race or nationality.
There are over a thousand jokes about blonde
girls, some of which are very mean, sexist and
derogatory, such as: "In about 10 years there will
be a riot in Germany! -Why? - Then the blondes
understood the jokes that are being made about
them now" or "Two blondes were driving to
Disneyland. The sign said: "Disneyland Left."
So they started crying and went home."
But I've never heard a blonde deny herself and say
she's not blonde but yellow or straw coloured or
something.
In Brazil we have a lot of jokes about Portuguese
people, but I never heard, that the Portugueses
want to change their name.
There are also a lot of other regions, which are
abused for jokes, for e.g. East Frisian in Germany,
but I've never heard an East Frisian say that he no
longer wants to be an East Frisian, but now calls
himself a West Dutchman or a North Saxon.
That's why I, like many (but by no means all) of my
fellow campaigners, believe that our profession is
hooker, whore or scientific prostitute (just as there
are two names for other professions, e.g.
children´s doctor and pediatrician). Nobody should
have to be ashamed of being a hooker.
A fortiori no one should have to be ashamed of
being a Negro, Negro woman, Negro boy or Negro
girl, nor even a Negro whore or Negro hooker.
Some people demand that dark-skinned people be
 12

called black or African. But can I call an athlete like

the Brazilian gold medallist Daiane Santos an
African girl if she was born in Brazil and her family
stays in Brazil for 200 years? That would be
completely absurd.
Particularly clever fellows therefore write “African
descent”. But there are also black people who are
of Australian descent or come from Sri Lanka or
similar and whose ancestors are not from Africa
either. Many dark-skinned Brazilians don't even
know their ancestry.
So rather use the neutral word "black"? How do I
then translate the sentence "A brown Negro from
Mali once said to a black Negro from the Congo..."
into so-called politically correct language?
It would be: "A brown black from Mali once said to
a black black from the Congo..."
My dream is that a black girl without fear of
 13

discrimination can present herself on internet

platforms like “I'm a Negro whore from Brazil”, like
others write: “I'm a Japanese programmer from
Sao Paulo” or “I am an Indian chief” or “I am a
Scottish girl” or “I am a Californian farmer”.
 14

Bia and the tale of the "worst rape in

Brazilian history"
Bia is a girl from Rio de Janeiro who grew up in a
lower-middle-class family, a family that was poor
but didn't live in a favela (slum or poor quarter in
South America) and could own a car, albeit a very
old one. A favela called Barão (Baron) begins not
far from her house and some of the children of the
favela attend Bia's school. So, she got to know the
somewhat different customs of the favela early on,
and she tells us about them in this story:
The girls from the favela are usually way ahead of
the others. For example, by the age of 9, they are
already precociously talking about oral sex
techniques. Most of them are black or coloured,
and instead of respecting us white people, they
pride themselves on things they already know and
talk loudly about them.
I'm white, but I'm not stupid, and I've asked my
cousins and other girls a lot of these things. So
when the stupid babble from the favela girls started
 15

to revolve around getting wet, I quickly figured out

what that was supposed to mean. For example,
they said about my friend Vitoria that she always
got all wet when the Portuguese teacher came by.
They wanted to tease her because she was good
at Portuguese, currying herself a bit with the
teacher, who thought highly of her. The leader of
these cheeky girls was a rather dark-skinned
mulatto girl. When she bothered and teased my
girlfriend again, I said to the mulatto: "You only say
that because you always get very wet yourself
when Gustavo walks close to you."
Gustavo was an older favela boy, adored by many
girls, and rumored to be part of the local leadership
of the Comando Vermelho (Red Comand) drug
cartel. I may have met a weakness of the mulatto
woman, because she got very angry and left the
room.
Later she came back and brought her girlfriends
and two boys, and while these two were holding
me, the girls poured a cup of water into my
 16

panties: "So everyone can see that you, not me,

got wet."
As soon as that happened, the next hour bell rang,
and I had to sit in a small puddle on my chair.
When the favela girls realized that nothing else
had happened to me, they wrinkled their noses
and whispered, “It stinks of pee. Someone must
have wet their pants.”
When the teacher noticed the whispering and
asked what the matter was, the girls said I had wet
myself. I then defended myself, saying that the
girls were lying and telling the teacher the truth.
She came closer and said she couldn't smell
anything, so she was inclined to believe me.
She didn't do anything else, i.e. she didn't punish
the girls as I had hoped. Instead, the mulatto girl's
 17

older sister showed up the next day and said she

wanted to talk to me privately and dragged me into
the girls' bathroom. There were her friends, the two
boys from the day before and her boyfriend, a
mulatto of her age. The older sister said I had
made her little sister out to be a liar and that I
should apologize. When I refused she motioned
and the two boys each grabbed one of my arms
and the older boy grabbed my hair and pulled my
head back, securing me in this awkward position.
Then the girl pulled down my school uniform and
panties and purposefully grabbed one of my labia
minora with two fingers and pinched me. "Go on,
apologize!"
 18

I froze in fear and shame. She only waited a few

seconds, though, and then pinched it all the way
down, taking away my freedom of choice. I
apologized to the mulatto woman.
I was asked what I wanted to give her in return and
I couldn't think of anything. She wanted money but
I didn't have any. I finally promised to bring some
the next day, even though I knew it wouldn't work.
Because I had no money with me, they were not
satisfied and took off my shorts and panties. They
weren't afraid that other girls could come in and
witness my abuse because they had put two girls
in front of the door, who told the other girls that the
 19

toilet was locked. I, on the other hand, didn't know

about it and was dying of fear that my friends
would come in and see my shame.
There was a mess around my panties and then
one of the boys disappeared into a toilet with them.
Shortly thereafter, the next lesson bell rang, the
older sister gave me another good pinch before
everyone ran away, and the boy threw my panties
down at me. They slapped the floor wet, he had
peed in them. So, this time I couldn't claim it was
just water.

In the afternoon I thought about how to get some

money, but I couldn't
think of anything.
So, the next day I
took the two
Brazilian reals I had
and gave them to
the mulatto woman
(about 70 cents).
She was
disappointed that it
was so little and
threatened me, and I
promised to bring
more money the
next day.
Since both my
parents work, I had
a lot of freedom in
the afternoons, but
 20

of course I was
supposed to stay
at home. But I
was in trouble, so
I roamed the
streets hoping I
could think of
something.
But I couldn't find
a way. I thought
about sitting down
on the floor and
begging, but of
course I was too

afraid that friends would

come by.
When I got to school the
next day, I had made up
a nice story about why I
couldn't bring the money,
but the mulatto girl
slapped me in the face.
When I tried to fight back,
her friends and the two
boys came to her aid,
and she slapped me
again. So, I promised her
I'd bring four reals the
next day and she took
 21

my pencil case
as a deposit.

In the
afternoon I
took a roll of
biscuits that
my mother had
bought some
days before,
ran to the
beach and sold
the biscuits
one by one at
the beach
kiosks, where
men sat
playing cards
or drinking
beer, or entire
families played on the beach.
I soon realized that hardly anyone was inclined to
buy a single biscuit from the supermarket, but if I
smiled nicely and accepted men patting my
cheeks, bare stomach, bare arms, thighs or
bottom, I would sell finally all. At night I dreamed
that the men were touching me, but while I was
stiff and scared that afternoon, I got aroused in the
dream, and when the men noticed this, they also
touched me on the most secret parts of my body.
I got 5 reals. A new roll of biscuits cost 1.50 real,
leaving me only 3.50. I handed this over to the
 22

mulatto girl the next day and again owed her

something. She pinched me, but when I promised
to bring 3.50 again the next day, she let me go.
It went well the same way for three days and by
now a few men knew me and one let me sit on his
lap for a while and watch him play cards and then
gave me 50 centavos for it. I liked that and looked
all the men in the eye and smiled because I
thought what had happened once might happen
again, but it wasn't so. I put the 50 centavos away
safely, but I came home on the fourth day and the
roll of biscuits was gone. My father or mother
probably took them to work.
I was desperate. I couldn't buy a roll with the 50
centavos, so the only rescue I had was the man
from the days before. It worked, too, and I received
 23

50 centavos again, but no one else made me such

an invitation.
However, there are cheap cookies for 89 centavos.
I bought them and sold them off with a lot of
trouble. If I had kept one of the other packets of
better cookies, I would have put the cheap cookies
in there and bluffed people! But like that I had to
sell the cheap cookies and then had 2 reals and
with the 2 reals I bought the better roll for 1.50.
However, I didn't have much time and only
managed to sell
half the roll, then
I had to rush
home because I
didn't want my
parents to know
that I was
hanging around.
Over time I was
even able to
save almost 2
reals, and so I
was always able
to pay for the roll
of biscuits with
it. But then there
came a day
when my mother
was off work for
a doctor's
appointment
with me, so I
 24

had to go to the doctor in the morning instead of to

school and I couldn't run away in the afternoon
because my mother was at home.
I wasn't worried because I still had the money from
the previous day and I took it to school with me.
But the mulatto said I had to pay for two days now,
and when I couldn't, she slapped me again. I
already knew I couldn't dare to defend myself and
was seething with anger, but pulled myself
together.
Then she took my bag from me and looked in it for
something useful
and finally found my
saved 2 reals, which
I had hidden to buy
cookies right away
after school. She
slapped me again
because she thought
I had kept it from
her, even though I
explained it to her.
So, in the afternoon I
was left with nothing.
I went to my patron,
whom I had gotten to
know better by now,
and asked him
openly if I could sit
on his lap a little
longer because I
really needed 1.50.
 25

He said that it wouldn't be possible here and now,

but that I was welcome to come to his house in the
evening. By that he meant after 6 p.m., but I said I
had to be home by then. In short, we agreed on 5
p.m. and I even managed to get the 1.50 as an
advance. With that I bought the cookies and
quickly sold them to be ready by 5 p.m.
At the man's house we sat in front of the TV, I sat
with my legs apart on his lap, and as I had
guessed, he slipped his hand into my panties and
stroked my pussy.
After all the favela girl chatter on the subject, I
assumed I was about to get wet, but nothing
happened. That reassured me because I would
have been
embarrassed
moistening the
man´s hand. So
I was even able
to relax and
enjoy the TV
and when the
man finally let
me go I said I
liked it and
asked if I could
come back
sometime on
the same
terms. He
grinned and
allowed it.
 26

I ran home because only now did I realize that it

was already after 6 p.m., but unfortunately my
mother was already there.
This caused real trouble, and when I made up a
lie, my mother noticed. My father came home from
work and I got spanked, naked, of course, because
they wanted more pain for me so that I never
would do so again.
Of course, I promised it too, but of course I didn't
want to keep my promise.
This went on for a few weeks, but eventually my
parents began to suspect that I was still hanging
around, and they secretly asked an old woman in
the neighbourhood to keep an eye on me, and she
soon reported
to them that I
was constantly
out of the
house.
This time my
father took a
stick and my
butt stayed red
for at least
three days, that
is, more
precisely, it
was red the
first day, then it
turned purple
and finally
blue. And the
 27

next day the old neighbour came by in the

afternoon, apparently to make sure I didn't leave
the house in case I wanted to go out despite the
risk of more strokes.
I had no choice but to tell the mulatto girl the whole
story the next day and see what she would do. She
called her sister
for help, who
came with the
boys. When she
asked, I retold the
story, and she
demanded that I
show the red butt.
When she saw
that he really had
been abused, she
was impressed,
felt him and
encouraged the
boys to do the
same.
 28

Then she said I was a good girl and that I proved

myself. They would help me to get out of the house
again. But in the afternoon, she wanted to take me
to the favela to show her brother my bottom.
"And how am I supposed to earn the money?" I
asked worried.
"You're free today," she said. "You deserve a day
off. We want to take care of you today.”
I've never been to the favela and found it really
exciting. I had heard the most fascinating stuff,
from guards at the entrance, men with submachine
guns, etc., but didn't see any of it. But my butt
made the greatest success. Apparently, the people
in the favela had thought that white girls from
middle class families would never get spanked and
now enjoyed seeing that the other families outside
the favela do the same.
Gustavo, the heartthrob from my school, came with
 29

two friends, one of whom was almost white, and

they all admired my butt. Then the darker of the
two friends, who seemed to be the leader and was
called Emilio but short Milo, asked some details,
also about my old neighbour and then said he'll
take care of her.
All the girls treated the leader with great reverence
and courted him, and I too began to admire him.
He was just easygoing and cool, like the people in
the movies.
The day in the favela was great and, in the
evening, the older sister told me that I should go
out for my work the next day, the old lady will tell
my parents that I stayed at home. But, since I have
proven myself so well and would have gotten their
help, I should bring 5 real every day from now on.
I was desperate. How was I supposed to earn so
much money if I only had time until 6 p.m., and I
also had to do certain jobs around the house, such
as mopping the floors and washing up.
I explained to my sponsor that I needed money
and asked him if he had friends who would also
give me 1.50
if I watched
TV with them.
He objected
that I would
need four
men, and the
first one at 2
p.m. That
would be
 30

difficult. He
asked me
why I wasn't
sucking, by
which he
meant oral
sex. I was
used to
hear about
the subject
from
school, but
had no
experience
yet, but I immediately asked what I could earn
doing so. He said that if I showed him that I could
do the art, he'd recommend a few friends who
would pay at least 2.50 each.
So, I relented and claimed that I had already done
it, but still had little experience.
He asked with whom I did it and I said a boy from
my school. He then offered to train me.
 31

I guess I did pretty well because although the

favela girls always say old men take a long time,
he came quickly and I saw man milk oozing out of
a cock like that for the first time.
He asked me if the boy cummed in my mouth and
if I swallowed it, and I boldly said yes. Then I sat
on his lap, and he stroked me much more intensely
than usual, maybe he had thought before that I
was still too untouched and didn't want to startle
me. I think I even got a little wet.
But I only got 1.50. He said he couldn't get the
friends until the next day at the earliest, and of
course he wouldn't pay for the sucking, because
after all he had trained me. I was supposed to
continue training with him over the next few days,
but he promised
to try to find at
least one friend
for the next day.
Full of fear, I
went to school
only with the
1.50, but the
mulatto said it
wasn't so bad, I
should just bring
more the next
day.
In fact, I
managed to bring
in at least 4 reals
the next day, and
 32

after five days I once sucked three men besides

sitting on my patron's lap and was able to give the
mulatto 9 reals. After I had accomplished this feat,
I always brought in only 5 reals and saved any
excess I might have sucked out for times of need,
but soon my contribution was set at 6 reals.
My parents were happy with me, because the
neighbour always told them when they asked that I
now always stayed at home and even helped her
in her house, and she praised me highly.
Eventually my contribution was increased to 7
reals and so I often had to serve four men like the
day I earned 9 reals, but then time was running
out. I had to
go straight
from school to
the first guy,
but
sometimes it
would be
almost 6pm
by the time I
was done and
I hadn't done
anything in
the house yet.
But my old
neighbour
saved me.
She didn´t
want my
parents find
 33

out that she has lied to them, and so she cleaned

and washed for me herself.
It must have been over a year since things were
going so well and by then my contribution had
been increased to 10 reals. I was only able to do
that because I already had good regular
customers, and I also announced that I would now
charge 3 reals for sucking and swallowing. Most
didn't care if I gulped it down, but some men love
it, and these are the ones I'd like to visit the most. I
think I did really well, because sometimes the men
got so excited that they stuck their fingers
somewhere else and often gave me a tip of 20 or
50 centavos. And they recommended me to
others.
 34

The
mulatto girl
now made
friendship
with me
and walked
with me
arm in arm
through
school,
and her
older sister
used to pet
me. She
said she
loves
stroking
blonde hair
and white
skin.

One day the older sister, whose name is Amelia,

told me that Milo had called me. I asked what that
meant exactly, and she told me to come to him
immediately, after school, without going home first.
"And my work?" I exclaimed, startled.
"Which work?"
I realized that of course she didn't know how I got
10 reals every day, so I said, "I have to get 10
reals."
"If Milo calls you, you don't have to do anything,
little one."
 35

"But…"
"Nothing but. I mean, of course it's your decision.
You're welcome to go to your... er, work. Then
you're dead tomorrow. Then you don't have to
work anymore. Is also good."
I stared at her. I only understood half of it, but
enough to know I had no choice.
So after school we walked up the hill. After about
500 meters the road made a curve, and after that
the multi-story apartment buildings suddenly
stopped and instead a swarm of small, self-built
houses, mostly made of the cheap red hollow
bricks, began. Graffiti was sprayed on many walls,
and sometimes very bold slogans such as "Police
Free Zone" or "CV", which means Comando
Vermelho (Red Command) and refers to the
criminal organization that rules here. Red no
longer has a political meaning here, but it is one of
 36

the largest
drug cartels in
Brazil, headed
by
Fernandinho
Beira-Mar;
however, they
were allied
with the left-
wing FARC in
Colombia. In
the favelas
and

neighbourhoods where they are present and in

some cases even rule, like in this favela, they have
local leaders.
The simplest huts only have a corrugated iron roof
and it takes at least 2000 euros or dollars to
construct such a home, around 1000 for the bricks
and concrete for the foundation, the rest for the
front door, toilet, sink, tiles for the entire floor and
for the walls in the bathroom, roof beams,
corrugated iron or Eternit roof. If the bathroom is
tiled, all you need is a showerhead (preferably with
a built-in heater, of course) for about 6 euros and a
drain on the floor. Electrical cables and plastic
 37

water pipes are not

expensive, and you
can make everything
yourself; sockets and
window grilles are
added, and the
house is finished.
Luxury such as
windows with panes,
tiles in the kitchen or
doors for the rooms
can follow later when
there is money
again.
In the most simple
houses you can't
stand the heat in
the afternoon and
have to stay on
the street. For
such houses it is
a great
improvement if a
relative builds a
second floor
above the house,
because then it is
cooler downstairs
and the heat hits
those who live
upstairs. The
ideal is to
 38

construct a
roof terrace
at the top
and first
build the
corrugated
iron over it.
The roof
terrace is also hardly bearable in the afternoon
when the sun hits, although it is open on all sides,
but in the evenings you can sit and grill there, and
during the day one can dry the laundry there.
Where the corrugated iron is still missing above
the roof
terrace, you
can lie on the
concrete and
let yourself be
toasted like on
the beach. You
can often see
the girls there
in their tiny
bikinis that
disappear
between the
buttocks and
leave the entire
butt free as a
stimulating
eye-catcher.
 39

You can also see a lot of bare flesh on the street,

at least among the girls and young women. The
poor men have to contend with a fashion that
dictates that they wear "short" trousers, which
should actually be considered long because they
are above the knee, and large, baggy T-shirts,
unless they use sleeveless ones. The girls, on the
other hand, only have their bikini or at most a small
and extremely short, light miniskirt over sexy bikini
bottoms, or they use tiny, tight shorts (in Brazil
shortinho, which means little shorts).
In winter, when it's only around 20 degrees, hard-
nosed favela girls continue to walk around so
"chic" because the most beautiful thing they have
is usually their brown skin. Others wear thick
clothes and you even see a few gloves at
temperatures around 20 degrees Celsius (68
Fahrenheit). Hardly anyone owns warm shoes.
 40

Amelia and
her sister,
the cheeky
mulatto girl
Cintia from
my class,
linked my
arm and we
proudly
walked the
small,
crooked
streets.
Milo lived
with his
mother in a
fairly large
house that
even had a
small
swimming pool, but from the outside it looked just
as unassuming as other rough, exposed red brick
houses. Amelia kissed him in greeting and Milo
kissed me gallantly on the cheek, which made me
feel very grown up. Then he said, "So you've
become a little lollipop succer."
Everyone grinned at each other and my heart
sank. I looked around uncertainly. Then he asked
me if I enjoyed my work. I said cautiously yes - I
didn't want to do anything wrong, but wasn't sure
which answer they would like.
 41

They grinned
at each other,
but then Milo
said, "Fine, I
love girls who
are
hardworking. I
called you
because I
wanted to get
to know you
once. Can you
show us how
you work?"
I didn't
understand at
first, but he
actually
demanded
that I kneel
down in front
of him and
show him how
to suck a man.
I knelt down
and hesitated, unsure of how to begin. Cintia
teased: "She doesn't dare. And she can't."
Then I pulled myself together, pulled down his
Bermuda shorts and underpants and was amazed
that the object was already jumping at me as hard
as a rock. I always had to do the preparatory work
for my customers.
 42

I attributed this to my attraction and felt proud and

started licking and sucking, full of the urge and
eagerness to show them how good I am. I had also
learned from my "teacher" and patron how to lick
nuts, but it wasn´t necessary because after a short
time Milo grabbed my head and gave me a large
portion of egg white,
which, however, tasted
much spicier and
bitterer than those from
my older customers.
"So how did you find
her?" Milo asked.
Cintia gave a sneer,
but Amelia said, "For
her inexperience, it
was pretty good. She
still has to learn a bit.”
"Train her," Milo said. I
actually had to kneel
 43

down in front of
Amelia and suck
her too while Milo
feasted on it and
she told me where
her favourite place
was and gave me
some general tips.
Meanwhile, Milo
unpacked a gun
from a box and
disassembled,
cleaned and
reassembled it as if
it were the most
normal thing in the
world. I thought it
was totally cool and felt like I were in a movie.
Then Milo said he thought we were both horny
good girls and he wanted to sleep with Amelia
once again. I was allowed to stay there and watch
the whole time, but they didn't touch me.
Milo said there was a party tonight and they were
taking me. I said, "But my parents..."
"You can call them."
So I called my mom and told her that my new
school friend Cintia had invited me to a little party
and I couldn't refuse. My mother was a bit
depressed, but I stayed firm and so she didn't say
anything more. And that's how I came to my first
"Baile Funk" (Funk Ball), a party with funk music. I
thought the ball would take place in a hall
 44

somewhere, but it took place in the middle of the

favela in the streets.
Young people especially love the forbidden funks
with very dirty lyrics about sex with naive underage
girls, mass rapes, etc. (Funk Putaria, whore funk),
but also lyrics
against the
police and
about heroic
drug dealers
(Funk
Proibidão,
forbidden funk).
The girls come
in daring
clothes, so
especially the
panties under
the skirt have
to be G-string
panties that
expose the
buttocks. When
 45

the skirt bounces up during wild dance

movements, the butt can then be seen. Some girls
even come without panties. Others wear thin, skin-
tight shorts with no panties, allowing the contours
of their vaginal lips to be seen. And we girls even
sing along to the lyrics about mass rape at the top
of our lungs.
In addition to the girls from the favela, there had
also been a number of adventurous girls and
young women from the city, some of them without
panties, because they are tempted by the thrill of
dancing so daring and being so close to drug lords
feared throughout the city, and excited by the
vague prospect of being hit on by them or being
taken to bed without any fuss. For them, it is the
same as riding a roller coaster, skydiving, doing
extreme sports, riding on the outside of trains,
doing illegal car races, or volunteering as a fighter
 46

for Islamist
militias.
Cintia and I
showered
together, soaped
each other,
depilated,
applied lotion
and she showed
me where to put
a drop of
perfume on
hidden parts of
the body. Then
we did fittings
where we both
tried on her
clothes because I
only had my
school uniform with me. We had a lot of fun and
took a lot of time with it.
When we were done, Milo asked to see us. I was
wearing my own panties, and Milo found that
impossible. He ordered Cintia to give me her
panties, which were pink and very delicate, and
she got another one from the wardrobe.
Milo went accompanied by some of his men,
actually teenagers, and his girls, some of the men
were armed. He was the patronizing organizer of
the ball, I learned, and was greeted respectfully by
everyone. He introduced me to some good friends
 47

and said
proudly that I
was a city girl
and a good
“chupadora”
(succer).
I felt really
good and
found
everything
incredibly
exciting. I
could see
drugs being
sold all the
time, but Milo
didn't take
anything.
However,
once Milo
suddenly said to me while we were sitting with
some people in a corner with one of his confidants,
"Suck him, Bia. Show what you have learned.”
I hesitated, but the order had been clear, and I
didn't want to ruin the great atmosphere, so I did it
to that fellow, trying my best not to be seen as an
inexperienced beginner. He was pleased, too, and
expressed appreciation to Milo. There must have
been something about me that Milo liked too,
because he kept me for the rest of the party and
started giving me cuddles. Some girls looked at me
appreciatively, others widened their eyes. I
 48

thoroughly enjoyed my new position and, knowing

how important good relationships are in life, I did
everything I could to please Milo.
So, there was a choreography competition shortly
after midnight. While boys performed their
homemade funks putaria, people danced to it,
using vulgar and obscene gestures and
 49

movements. For example, the girls put their hand

on the panties over the pussy and rub as if
masturbating, moving the pelvis as if fucking.
One of the highlights was when two guys lay on
their backs on the ground and two pretty girls, both
in miniskirts with no panties, stood legs apart over
the boys and gyrated their pelvises and lowered
them onto the boys'
pelvises, jerking
rhythmically. If it
was a hot sight for
the spectators
around, then it must
have been madness
for the two lying
down. The girls
even put their hands
between their legs
and provocatively
slapped their
bottoms.
 50

The children are all awake and even the smallest

run around and see such scenes and imitate them
enthusiastically, sometimes even in kindergarten.
Some people even proudly show their little kids
dancing that funk on YouTube, wearing panties of
course.

At three o'clock in
the morning we
retired and of
course I couldn't go
home at that time.
To my great pride,
Milo took me to his
bed and
deflowered me. It
hurt quite a bit, but
my pride and joy
covered it up
completely.
 51

Of course, my parents
reproached me the
next day, but I was
able to convince them
that I couldn't turn
down invitations to the
favela because the
pupils from the favela
would see it as a
setback and would
threaten and bully me
at school. It was a
rainy Saturday, and I
went out in the
afternoon to visit my
clients. On Monday I
gave Cintia the money
but she returned it
and said I didn't need
to bring it anymore.
 52

As I learned later, Milo had ordered it. And Cintia

told me he wanted to see me again.
So, after school I went to the favela with Cintia,
where I had to wait for Milo for a few hours. When
he finally came, I sucked him and he slept with me
again, then three of his guys took me home.
Over the next few days some older girls asked me
if I was going with Milo and when I said yes they
looked at each other appreciatively. Only the
blackest girl in my class said, "Milo? Aff...! Then
you must be a piranha.” (Aff was a derogatory term
in Brazil, and a piranha is a fish, but can be a slut
or tramp, too.)
When I winked at the insult, the two boys from the
favela who had always helped Cintia against me
said: "And you put up with that?"
I said: "So what?"
"Punish her."
"You might punish her, if you want."
"No, you must say how she should be punished."
 53

That's when I noticed that the guys were waiting

for me to give the orders. Realizing this made me
fly high inside,
and since I
couldn't think of
anything better, I
ordered to take
the Negro girl to
the girls'
bathroom, take
off her shorts
and panties, and
have one of the
boys pinch her
labia until she
begged pardon.
When she did so
 54

I ordered to bring me 3 real the next day but she

said she had no money.
"I don't care," I said cockily, and then I had one of
the boys pee in her panties and throw them down
to her just as the school bell rang. Ten minutes
later she came into class embarrassed with
washed but still wet panties and apologized that
she had had a problem in the toilet.
During the next break, the students from the favela
and a few others surrounded me, celebrating me
like a heroine and mocking the poor Negro girl.
This one snuck up the next day and said she had
no money and could only give me the only thing
she had, and she gave me a little dinosaur. I
tossed the dinosaur in the bin and snapped, "I said
3 real." Behind me, the two boys and three others
from the favela stood up and grinned cynically, and
I turned to look at them like I were a gang leader
and told them, "Punish her."
 55

I sat casually in class

and let the boys do the
work.
The same thing was
repeated for a few
days, but the girl never
brought any money.
She lived in the favela
and had no opportunity
to earn money there.
The girls who prostitute
themselves in a favela
often only get 50
centavos. There's no
market for a girl who
just wants to suck,
especially when she's
that black.
So I decided to make her my slave and let her do
little jobs for me, and one day I took her home with
me and had her scrub the whole house. Most
days, though, I was in the favela, and every now
 56

and then Milo slept with me, and I had to indulge

him giving head.
Most of the time, however, he was busy with his
people or on the road. But he showed his trust by
the fact that I was allowed to see his weapons. By
now I had pretty skimpy clothes like the real favela
girls, which I bought myself with the money I made
by visiting and sucking on my former clients and
when I was at Milo's in a sexy bikini once, I was
allowed to hold a submachine gun and we took
pictures. I felt like Lara Croft, and proudly posted
two photos of it on my Facebook.
Milo, however, hated that I posted this without
asking him, and as punishment, I had to suck five
friends or co-workers who happened to be there
for free. I thought he was going to cast me out, but
later he slept with me normally and the photo was
never talked about again. I left it on my Facebook
and it earned me respect from many of my
 57

classmates. Only my cousin teased me and said I

was now a Maria Fuzil (machine gun chick).
It even made an impression on teachers. When
our Portuguese teacher tried to give me a F
(actually a zero in Brazil) for not handing in an
assignment, I protested and said I would bring it in
the next day. He said that it was too late but that I
should come to him after the lesson. When I went
to negotiate with him, he asked if I could offer him
anything or do him a favour to make him
reconsider. I guess a few weeks ago I could have
just offered to suck him, but now I said angrily, "Do
you actually know who my boyfriend is?"
"No."
So I showed him some photos on my phone and
my Facebook and said it would be a huge favour
on my part if I didn't have him shot for the cheek of
trying to
give me
an F.
In the
afternoon
I took my
Negro girl
and let
her do the
 58

homework. It got really bad because the brat is so

dumb and I had to beat her up and make her
rewrite everything. Since she's not completely
stupid, she didn't resist, of course, and docilely
copied everything again, but normally it wouldn't
have been good grades, but the teacher accepted
the late work, and I got a B.
Only Vitoria, my former best friend, distanced
herself from me and especially from the way I
bullied the poor Negro girl, and even sat at a
different table in class. I felt that my authority was
being attacked by this act, and I braced her in the
presence of my "body guard". She told me what
she disliked about me and that she didn't want to
sit next to someone like that anymore. No one had
said anything like that to me in weeks, and I had to
act.
I felt sorry, but I had her taken to the toilet, pinched
her pussy until she apologized, and ordered her to
bring me 10 reals the next day.
 59

I thought it
would be
easy for
her
because
her dad
earns
fairly
better
than mine,
but she
only
brought 5
reals. I
then
ordered
her to bring me 5 real every day as a punishment.
That only worked for two days. She even went to
our Portuguese teacher and said I was bullying
her, and we both had a talk with the teacher. I
quickly realized that he only spoke for good, but
didn't dare to do anything against me. When Vitoria
realized that, she started to cry, but that didn't help
her. I just told her to come to my place in the
afternoon and then we could talk about everything.
In the afternoon I had three guys from my
"bodyguard" and Cintia with me and I said that
Vitoria had to work so that she could bring me 5
real every day. Then we taught her to suck
properly. Vitoria is a very good student, and she
was also intelligent enough to recognize that
resistance was futile, and she gave in and learned
 60

quickly. I also
told her that I
had to continue
being her best
friend, what
she should tell
others, and
that she had to
sit next to me
again.
Then we three
girls left the
house
together,
followed by the boys, and I took them to my patron,
who was already longing for me, and explained to
him that my friend Vitoria would help me at work in
the future, she would visit the men every day. After
that we visited two more men and then we took her
home. Unfortunately, it turned out that one of the
men knew Vitoria and also her father, but he
promised not to betray her if she were always
particularly eager and tender with him.

From then on, I sat next to Vitoria again, who was

now completely devoted to me, brought me the
money every day and was a good student who
could help me and let me crib. I didn't really want
to sit next to my friend Cintia, because she's not
very good and she's also very fidgety, and of
course I didn´t want to sit next to my black slave.
 61

After a few months, Milos' lust for me had subsided

a bit, but he still loved being seen with me and
showing everyone that he had a "Patricinha", a
chic white city girl who was subservient to him. But
more and more often he let his friends get close to
me, and not only so that I could suck them, but
they were also allowed to
sleep with me. And once, as
a reward, five of his
"soldiers", who had shot
three men from an opposing
drug gang, were allowed to
"eat" me one after the other.
On the other hand, I got a
super fancy iPhone, a laptop
and an expensive set of
cooking pots for my mom,
all stolen goods, of course.
And, what was a special
honour for me, he
sometimes asked my
opinion publicly, even when
 62

he had to play
judge as the local
commander of the
CV, deciding
cases ranging
from divorce and
inheritance
disputes to rape
and disputes over
women or whole
houses.

Then I realized I
was five months
pregnant. The
child had to be
Milo's, but I wasn't
sure if one of my
clients could have gotten me pregnant during oral
sex, or maybe the calculation wasn't that accurate,
and the child was only three or four months old
and then it could be from one of Milo's colleagues.
Milo didn't change his behaviour towards me. I
don't know if he assumed the child was his or not.
Vitoria was docile and willing, submissive to me
almost as if she were my slave too, and brought
me the money every day, but once she told me
that one of the men wanted to sleep with her, and
he wanted her tied for to make bondage sex with
her. She didn't really want that and was afraid to
go to him because she feared that he would do her
 63

violence if
she just
sucked him
and refused
to do
anything
else. I said:
“You can't
let an old
bastard tie
you up and
fuck you.
You're my
girlfriend. I
am here to
protect you,
that's what
I'm your
girlfriend
for, right?"

The next day I went to the man with Vitoria and my

Negro girl and confronted him. I said that Vitoria is
my friend, and he must treat her with respect, or he
might be found dead one day. „She will just suck
you. Do you understand that?“
The man said yes sheepishly. Then I offered him
to do the other stuff with my Negro girl. "You can
do whatever you want, Sir. But you can't kill her.
Don't hurt too much either. Not that I have to take
her to the doctor! And you must pay well.”
"How much?"
 64

"100 real (30

euros) for
three hours."
"Girl, do I
look rich?"
We finally
agreed on 30
reals (10
euros) for
three hours
and in fact
my negro girl
brought me
the money
the next day.
She wasn't
damaged,
only the
bottom was a
little bit
swollen.
After this quick success, I decided to expand the
business and told all my clients about the
opportunity to tie a negro girl from the favela and
also asked Vitoria to do some advertising,
promising her that she would get 15% if she
referred the Negro girl a client. At 30 reals, that
would be 4.50 reals, so a lot of money for her.
“But always ask for a hundred first. Who knows,
maybe someone will pay 100 and think how rich
we'll get then!"
 65

We got school reports and mine had improved

considerably. This also reassured my parents, who
had already feared that my bad company, of which
they knew vaguely, would have the opposite effect.
My grades were particularly noticeable because
my cousin, who was usually a much better student,
had failed badly in Portuguese and a few other
subjects as well. He complained a lot about his
teacher, who was the same as mine.
Even though my cousin is older than me, I was
able to do him a favour after the holidays. In good
time he asked the teacher how he was doing
verbally, and when the teacher told him that he
was rather weak because he participated but
almost always said the wrong thing, I asked for a
private conversation with the teacher and told him,
that the young man in question was my cousin and
I would not accept if he got a bad grade again.
The teacher immediately apologized and said that
he would rate participation more highly and that I
 66

could count on my
cousin getting a good
grade on his report card
again. When I noticed
that he cooperated so
quickly, I asked him if
he could do something
to help my cousin get
better in other subjects
as well. I said I'm sure
that he has friendly
contacts with some of
his colleagues.
He fussed and said he
couldn't guarantee that,
of course. I said that it
helped if he often
praised my cousin in the
staff room, because
then everyone would
have a good impression
of him and automatically rate him higher. Then I
told him that I had heard that he was particularly
fond of a slightly older girl from another class.
Everyone knew he gave her long looks and she
was gorgeous too, but she didn't want anything to
do with him.
"Do you just want to sleep with her, or do you want
to have her as a friend?"
"Well, I..." he defended himself. "I'm happily
married."
 67

"So she will only

sleep with you, we
don't want to
jeopardize your
happy marriage.
She will approach
you and ask you to
drive her home.
Then you know the
hour has come.
But don't forget
that my cousin
needs good
grades in all
subjects."
He was so taken
by surprise and
confused that he formally thanked me, which I
think is completely wrong in such cases. I didn't
say thank you for what he's going to do for my
cousin.
I enjoyed being able to demonstrate my power like
this. I summoned my bodyguards and even asked
Gustavo to accompany me. I told him it was very
important and that his presence would underscore
my authority. Then we went to see the beautiful girl
and I asked her how she felt about the Portuguese
teacher. She said she didn't feel anything.
I said, "And haven't you noticed that he wants
something from you?"
"Noticed it. But I don't want anything from him."
 68

"You're going to
sleep with him,
do you
understand? As
a token of your
agreement,
you're going to
ask him to drive
you home after
school today.
That's how he
knows you're
ready. He will
then explain
everything else
to you. You only
have to do it
once. If you don't obey, I'll hook you up and
prostitute you, and before that I'll break you in –
along with numerous other friends, of course.”
Although I told her she only had to do it once, she
must have been so frightened that she became
quite compliant. Anyway, after two days I was able
to catch the teacher by myself and gave him a
challenging look. He smiled and said, "Thank you.
And your cousin is okay.”
I grinned, "Did you like it? Is she good in bed?”
"Fantastic. And she promised we'd meet again."
This story greatly increased my standing in the
school, and everyone treated me with the utmost
respect. And I told my parents I was going with
Milo. They were shocked, but I foresaw it, and in
 69

the afternoon my
cousin came by
and spoke kindly
of me and the nice
friend I had. But
my parents didn't
really trust his
words either and
did everything
they could to
make it difficult for
me to visit the
favela.
So I asked the
Portuguese
teacher, who still
enjoyed his tender lover next to his "happy
marriage", to talk about me at the meeting with my
parents and to praise my nice and helpful friend.
Of course, he knew that my willingness to give him
a bedtime treat was based on Milo's power, and he
played his part, which reassured my parents.

My Negro girl was successful, at least she wasn't

too stupid for this job. But the men had got a taste
for bondage sex and wanted white or light brown
girls too. So, over the next few months, I selected
two more girls from my school and sent them out
on the streets. I did everything right like a real
pimp, invited my friends, let the sluts suck all the
guys in the whole room, broke them in letting all
the guys ride the critter and then sent the new slut
 70

out to make money for

me, and I encashed the
money mercilessly. They
both walked really well
like two little racehorses,
and I often sent them to
the beach to arrange
new customers. Each of
them brought me 50 real
a day.
In order to be able to
afford all this, I had to put
up with a lot. So it
happened again and
again that Milo would
allow some of his people
to sleep with me, or
should I rather say rape?
No, it's not rape,
because I let it happen
because, in exchange for
being one of Milo's girlfriends, I had a lot of power
that I could use to my advantage. I wasn't his only
friend, and usually not even the first and most
powerful, but I was the only one in town and
usually the only one from my school, so I had an
unchallenged position there.
The only thing you could call rape was what they
did to my Negro girl that I sometimes brought to
Milo's house, and then I allowed the whole gang,
well over thirty people, to sleep with my slave.
 71

In the last few days before

the birth of my child and in
the weeks that followed, I
had to slow down a bit. For
such a young mother as I
was, the birth was
surprisingly easy. My
parents, who had been very
upset when my pregnancy
was discovered, melted
upon seeing the helpless
little one. But they both
worked and I didn't want to
stay home all the time. So I
carried the baby around with

me, even to
school, or left him
with the old
neighbour who had
already been so
useful in other
things. Since she'd
proven herself so
well, even Milo's
people trusted her
and had a few
 72

guns stored with her.

The drug gangs always look for a few
unsuspecting older women to store some of their
weapons with. It happens that the police wants to
make an example and invade a favela ruled by
drug gangs in large numbers in order to recapture
it for the state. If something like this comes as a
surprise and the drug gang does not know about
the attack in advance, despite their contacts in the
police, it is possible that the police will get their
hands on drugs and weapons, which would of
course be very annoying. So the guns that are not
carried every day and the spare guns are often
stored with such unsuspecting ladies, mostly kind
old ladies who
go to the
Catholic
Church for
mass every
day, and who
are brought by
an elaborate
mixture of
gentle threats
and promises
to cooperate.
One day I took
my slave girl
to Milo. Milo's
people had
successfully
completed a
 73

delicate task and

were due a
reward, and I gave
them the girl. They
took her to the
house diagonally
behind where Milo
used to stay,
which is called the
abatedouro
(slaughterhouse,
also chicken
slaughterhouse
with a live pen
where the
chickens are
displayed)
because that's where such gang rapes are usually
carried out. Many young favela girls have already
been ridden there to be forced into the life as
prostitutes, others are raped as punishment for
something, or because they have refused to
accept as a lover one of the gang who wanted her.
Anyone reading this would think they're all rapists,
but they're not. It's a drug gang, and an honest one
that works clean. This means that no drugs are
adulterated with fraudulent intent, and no one is
forced to take drugs. For example, I usually don't
use drugs. And no one has forcibly injected me
with drugs to make me addicted to buying drugs
later. Only dirty Mexican gangs and some of our
opponents in Brazil do that, but we have a high
 74

code of ethics. Unlike the

state and the police, the
Comando Vermelho's
government is just, and
wrongdoers are punished.
For example, in the favela of
Barão, a man abused his
stepdaughter for two years.
He was convicted by the
Comando Vermelho,
dragged from his home and
cruelly put to death by
sticking him in a car tire and
setting it on fire.
This may be overly cruel, but
it deters other offenders.
What do you prefer? When
the Comando Vermelho
rules, a man rapes his
stepdaughter and is burned.
When the police rule, ten or twenty or fifty people
rape their children or strange women and girls or
even boys and a few of them are convicted and go
to prison where they cost the state a lot of money,
not to mention the cost of the long court hearings.
In that case you would have 20 or 50 victims, and
if such a perpetrator is released, he might harm
even more people. So, do we want to protect the
perpetrators or the victims?
The Comando Vermelho does not rape, but only
performs "curras" (mass rapes) for purely official
purposes such as: maintaining the discipline of the
 75

girls who are in some way related to the CV or are

its members, punishments, and preparation of
future prostitutes.
A prostitute, for example, who is unable to sleep
with 30 men a day will never be successful in her
profession. So, she has to be prepared for it.
As for my Negro girl, she's already a prostitute. she
works for me Normally I could throw her to 30
customers a day or have her work for me in a
brothel. But since I always encourage the good in
people, I let her continue to go to school, even
though I sometimes think she's so stupid that all
my generosity to her is in vain. But I want to at
least give her the chance to complete school,
because today even a cleaning lady sometimes
has to present a graduation when she applies for a
job. So, if I give her to the gang people for free, it's
me who doesn't get any money. For her, it’s only
the common work. Normally I might ask from
everyone two reals, but I wanted to give her as a
reward, like I said, a gift.
So my Negro girl was in the "slaughterhouse", lying
on the mattress that is always there for such
 76

measures, spreading her legs and groaning now

and then, and one guy after another entered the
house and came out again a short time later. I sat
in the yard behind Milo's house nursing my baby
and I could peek through the half-open door into
the semi-darkness of the slaughterhouse and
watch my girl at work; so I could see that she was
doing well, but also pay attention that not one of
the guys was doing anything idiotic to her. The
leaders of the group do not use drugs themselves,
but most of the ordinary members use drugs and
many are not to be trusted.
A year ago, for example, a “baile funk” (funk
festival or funk ball) on the streets of the favela
once again saw the appearance of a number of
chic "patricinhas" from the city. Some were
specifically invited here, the boys promised hot sex
with them. Now when one of the guys wanted to
fuck the girl he had picked, he took her to the
"slaughterhouse" whose door is always open for
such purposes. When the spoiled girl saw the
dingy mattress and also noticed that the guy
 77

smelled strongly of sweat, she suddenly got fed up

and even told the boy that he stinked. Of course,
that was completely wrong; if a girl from the city
lets the boys in the favela invite her, she has to
respect our laws and rules and respect the boy.
But what the guy did was even more wrong. The
idiot pulled his gun and shot the girl in the head at
point-blank range. The whole bed was messed up
and the slaughterhouse was closed to everyone
else, plus the guy was expelled from the CV.

So, I was sitting in the courtyard nursing my baby

and watching my Negro girl in the slaughterhouse.
Every once in a while, people would show up to
wait for Milo and pay off debts, buy drugs, or
discuss something. A black man in rags just
appeared there to pay off part of his debt to Milo, a
shabby, contemptible figure. Milo kept him waiting
and called several men ahead of him, who had
come later but were more important. Now and then
 78

the man looked

through the half-
open door through
which the men
went and came
back; maybe he
wanted to get
turned on by the
rape scene. After
looking at my
naked slave long
enough to
understand what
was going on, he
suddenly called
out, "That's
Melina! This is my
daughter."
I said: "One can see that."
He said, "It's not my fault she turned out like this."
I felt like teasing them a bit and said: "You should
have raised that thing better."
"She was with her mother most of the time."
"You're not doing anything now, you're not even
reacting."
"What am I supposed to do now? I'm not at home
here."
"Make yourself at home. If I were you, I wouldn't let
my daughter get away with something like that. For
every guy she's done with, at least five whopping
slaps on her whore's ass.”
 79

He looked at
me stupidly
and in
disbelief,
then he
suddenly
jumped up
just as one
guy was
done with
her, pushed
the next guy
back,
dragged the
girl off the
bed and
spanked her
ass in front
of all of us.
We laughed
tears. Then
he walked
away with
his head held high and just left the girl lying there.
The next guy came, grabbed her by the thick negro
hair and pulled her back to the bed, because only
half of the group had made it.
When everyone finally finished with the girl, she
stayed on the mattress, but I said to the last guy:
"Are you going to leave her there? Please bring
her with you.”
 80

He grabbed the
thing by the hair
and brought it to
me. When I saw
how dirty it was, I
got a fright and
looked at the guy
with some
irritation. How can
these guys lay
down on
something that
dirty? And what's
more in a country
like Brazil, where you shower constantly and keep
yourself meticulously clean!
"Go take a shower immediately," I ordered. "Don't
go into the house like that, the slurry is dripping out
of your legs, take a shower here in the yard!"
As in many places, there was a shower head in the
yard that you could just stand under. The water ran
into a gully. The water was cold, of course, unless
in the early afternoon, when the sun had previously
shone on the supply line. Then you could even
burn yourself on the water.
Suddenly disgusted by all the dirt, I asked one of
the boys to get a bar of soap and ordered the girl
to wash and rinse herself several times. I had
realized that I would bring her to my apartment
from time to time, and I didn't want any disgusting
things there, I wanted it to be nice and clean there,
also for my baby.
 81

After the shower I called the Negro girl over to me.

She was freezing from long showers with cold
water, but there were no towels here in the yard.
But the stone floor was still warm from the
afternoon sun, and I made her sit on the floor next
to my chair. I was eating a plate of feijoada, a
signature dish made with black beans, rice, and
leftovers of meat. Suddenly I wasn't hungry
anymore and I gave it to my Negro girl and allowed
her to eat the rest.
Meanwhile, I sent one of the younger boys hanging
around there with a real to get me a popsicle. By
the time I gulped it down, the girl had finished the
feijoada and I remembered that she worked quite a
lot for me this afternoon and that I could have been
generous and could have ordered her a popsicle
too. Now it was too late and all I could do was
tease her about it. I asked, "Would you like a
popsicle?"
 82

When she
said yes, I
said lightly:
"Too bad, it's
all over, you
should have
said earlier.
But take the
stick and suck
and nibble on
it, it tastes
good too.”
She humbly
accepted the
stick and put it
into her
mouth. I
laughed and
said: "You
don't have to
take everything literally, silly, I didn't mean that
seriously."
She was startled and anxiously wanted to return
the stick, but I waved it off.
"Oh silly, you are a slut and you are silly. What
about to have a new name? Slut and silly? May I
call you Slully? May I?”
She didn’t answer. So I had to give her a light kick
with my toe on her nude ass and ask again: "May
I?”
"Yes, madame.“
 83

Shortly
thereafter, a
woman
appeared
carrying a small
child with a bad
leg in her arms.
A piece
protruded from
the ulcerated
knee,
supposedly a
piece of bone
that had grown
incorrectly. She
complained that
the health post
was not helping
her and that she
had no money
to pay for a
private
operation. She
asked me to help her that she could talk to Milo
and get help. With that she started to cry and said
that the child's leg had been like this for a year. I
comforted her and said I would intercede for her.
 84

It

took quite a long time to speak to Milo because he

had to drive away again to sort out some sticky
situation and since I had promised the woman, I
would intercede for her I had to stay. I ordered
Feijoada to be brought to the woman, and then I
noticed that my Negro girl was still sitting naked on
the ground next to me.
"Don't you want to get dressed, Slully? Or do you
think it's cool to present yourself naked to the men
here?"
She went to the slaughterhouse, afraid to enter
again, as if she thought she would be raped again.
Eventually she entered, but found none of her
clothes. I don't remember exactly because when I
handed her over to the "soldiers" I was talking to a
friend, but I think the "soldiers" undressed her in
the courtyard and then dragged her naked to the
"slaughterhouse". Be that as it may, there was
nothing lying around in the inner courtyard either. I
didn't want to make a fuss about such a lowly slave
and ask Cintia, who lived nearby, for example, to
lend her some clothes. So I looked around the
 85

courtyard and
found a plastic
packaging in
the toilet in the
slaughter-
house that
once
contained ten
rolls of toilet
paper. I took
out the rolls
and threw the
plastic for the
girl to make
herself a mini
skirt. When it
was done, I
made her
raise her arms
and wrapped her in toilet paper a few times at
chest level, making it look like a bra or top.
The Negro girl looked hilarious, and I and the other
woman had fun with that dolt. I let her walk around
the yard a few times and shake her butt like a
pretty girl and we laughed to tears. Then I sent my
girl home.
It was midnight when Milo finally arrived, and he
was in a good mood as the action he had
performed had been a success. That definitely
helped because he patiently listened to the woman
and promised to pay for a surgery.
 86

The next day my Negro girl didn't come to me, and

her little brother came and said that she was
seriously ill. Since I didn't have anything to do right
now, I decided to visit her. The little shack had only
two walls made of stone, and wooden slabs had
been attached to them to complete, since there
was no money for more walls.
At the back the roof was so low you could only
crawl under it, and there my girl was lying among
garbage on a threadbare mattress. She had a
swollen face and bloody scratches on its body.
She had an older sister, an older brother and a few
smaller siblings. The mother was not present.
I didn't remember Melina being beaten by the
soldiers yesterday, nor did her father hit her in the
face. So I wondered about her appearance. The
 87

eldest sister
stood up in front
of me and said
proudly, "My
dad said Melina
is a whore and
we should beat
her up every
now and then if
she doesn't
behave."
I said, "Your
dad doesn't live
here, does he?"
"So what, but
he's my dad.
And Melina's
dad too, so he's
allowed to hit
her. Only the smaller children have different dads.”
I said: "Melina works for me. I forbid you to hit her.
Tell your dad so. If necessary, he should hit her by
himself, but only if she's done something wrong.
And he shouldn't hurt her, or I'll have his finger
broken. Tell your daddy that. Got it?”
The girl and her brother said politely, "Sim,
senhora." (Yes, mylady.)

A few months later, a young black mother of two

came to me and asked for Milo's intercession. She
said she was a cousin of Melina, my Negro girl, as
if that were some merit or distinction. I told her
 88

straight away that I

hoped she wasn't
just as stupid.

She, the second

child of 7 siblings,
had fallen in love at
age 12 with a 21-
year-old bricklayer
who made a
relatively good
income, and when
she was 13 she
married with her
parents'
permission.
However, the
marriage was not
formally performed
by Milo or his
predecessor as
local CV leaders,
nor by a registry
office. (Translator's note: Civil marriage in Brazil is
only allowed from the age of 16, so this is what is
known as a "concubinage". In Brazil, however, the
people make no distinction and if two people live
together, they are always considered married.)
The woman was now 17 and had two children, but
the man had left her and had a new girl who had
inherited her own, even better house in the favela,
and he had been living there for a year. He'd
 89

always wanted
his house back
to rent it out,
but the wife
with the two
kids had put
him off,
promising over
and over that
she'd move out
next month.
Now the man
had thrown her
out on the
street by force.
He argued that
in the hut of the
woman's parents two other children besides
herself had already moved out, and therefore there
must be enough space for the woman to stay there
with her two children. The woman argued that it
was far too cramped there as the hut was small
and there were still 4 siblings living there and she
was penniless and could not rent anything.
The man had witnesses that she had been
unfaithful and was now a prostitute, so she was to
blame for the end of the marriage and she couldn't
be penniless either. The woman had witnesses
that her husband had been unfaithful at first, had
had mistresses most of the time, and that she had
only recently been prostituting herself as she had
no money to feed her children.
 90

There was
then a court
hearing
before Milo,
but it was
adjourned
like a real
court and
Milo had
two of his
"soldiers"
go about
getting
background
information
and he
himself
visited the woman's childhood home where she
was temporarily staying with her two children;
however, she had to sleep in the kitchen.
The next day more witnesses came and in the end
Milo called some confidants and me to give him
our opinion. It was a special honor for me because
he had several wives, but I was the only one who
was occasionally consulted on such decisions.
Everyone saw it, and I certainly rose in people's
esteem that day.
Milo ruled that the woman could live in the house
until the children were gone or of legal age and
ordered the man to pay his wife 150 real a month
in alimony.
 91

The rejoicing of the woman's relatives and friends

was great, the other side, of course, was less
pleased, but since everyone knows that Milo is a
just and consistent ruler, they did not grumble, but
quietly submitted. If a judge from the Brazilian
government, who by the way are all rich and
corrupt, so you can't expect much from them, had
passed the verdict, the mother might have been
awarded alimony too, but the man simply wouldn't
pay. Since Milo lives in the favela and is consistent
and incorruptible, everyone accepts his judgments,
and the man continues to pay to this day.

When my son turned three, I still often gave him to

the old neighbour during the day so that I could
attend to my affairs. In the meantime, my girls
brought in enough money, so that I was often able
to slip something to the neighbour. My son once
 92

overheard several of
Milo's "soldiers"
there picking up two
submachine guns, a
machine gun and a
bazooka they
needed to secure a
mission because
there was a rumour
that the police might
get involved and
they would need the
bazooka against the
armoured police
cars and
helicopters.
As I found out later,
the police hadn't
turned up, but my
son had been keen
on machine guns from that day, so I allowed him to
play with them. After all, he was probably the son
of a commander. As he was so utterly serious and
happy lying behind the machine gun pretending to
fire at a whole company, we both laughed heartily
and I snapped some cute photos and a video. I
sent these to my cousin via WhatsApp and also
posted three photos on my Facebook. One of the
pictures even became known around the world
because it was published by a Catholic church in
Italy on a site about child soldiers and then shared
by others.
 93

Two weeks later, Milo did another "Baile Funk," a

street party with funk. This time there were even
girls from one of the wealthiest neighbourhoods in
town. They had tried to dress boldly and those who
don't know might think they were high-class
whores, but we saw straight away that they were
"Patricinhas" and soon we got their identity as well.
One of the girls is said to have a father who is a
billionaire and has the best influence in
government, and Gustavo suggested kidnapping
this girl, but Milo had other ambitions. He wanted
at least one of these girls, preferably the
billionaire's daughter, to sleep in his bed or that of
his confidants.
This was bad news, because for me, like for Milos'
other women, being seen with him at the party or
sharing his bed afterwards was considered a
special honour, and that opportunity was made
difficult by Milo's plans.
Of course, I don't take any real drugs, you can't
afford that as a boss's wife, but I threw in a "bala"
 94

(ecstasy) to be in the mood and to ward off the

tiredness. Milo actually managed to invite the
billionaire's daughter and her friends to the table
he was sitting at, and I pushed my way in to hear
what was "rolling", that means in Brazil "going on“.
When Milo finally deigned to notice me, he looked
at me, grew serious, and said with a dangerous
undertone, "What was that about the machine
guns?"
He was referring to the photos with my son. I said
cheekily, "He's all your son. He's totally excited
about it.”
Milo said: "You're a lot dumber than you look. You
burned our hideout. Not only your son can be seen
in the photos, but also part of the room. Any stupid
cop can now find out where some of our weapons
are stored. We're going to have to pull all guns out
there, dumbass. What were you thinking, bitch?”
 95

I was so surprised that I couldn't think of a quick

answer and just said I'm sorry. He said he didn't
notice anything about I feeling sorry because I had
cheekily pushed my way over to his invited guests.
What would I have wanted? I replied that I just
wanted to check on him. He said I obviously
needed a job and summoned one of his "soldiers,"
namely Eduino, who has a crooked mouth, buck
teeth, and jug ears but is always doggedly loyal to
him, and who was accompanied by two other
"soldiers" as he appeared.
"Eduino, where is your girlfriend? What? You don't
have any? Well, I'm giving you Bia, so you can
have some real fun today. She’ll stay by your side
throughout the party, obeys your every word, and
you can do whatever you want with her.”
Of course, it was a blow, but I knew the rules of the
Favela Barão and had to obey. Arguing and
 96

pleading would have made things worse. So, I

followed Eduino and he first took me to his little
house to fuck me. He then kept my panties, and
we went back to the street where he then showed
me off to all his friends and celebrated his catch.
He had obviously been on some drugs or was so
excited about his
unexpected catch,
anyway I had to
dance with him and
sit on his lap and he
unabashedly
touched me all over
my body, even
between my legs, in
front of the others.
He gave me another
ecstasy and maybe
he had put loló (a
mix of ether and
 97

chloroform) or
something
else in my
drink, anyway
I felt really
weird. He
kept showing
his friends
that I was
pantyless and
when they asked him how I tasted between my
legs, he said: "Try it yourself!"
I sat straddled on Eduino's lap, and the obnoxious
guy who had asked the question crouched down in
front of us and began to kiss and to lick my pussy
to everyone's applause. When he was done, two
others crowded in to do the same. Eduino
massaged my breasts possessively and I found
myself getting all wet and felt oddly light and like
on a spinning carousel that still goes up and down
 98

like a
roller-
coaster.
Then
Eduino
said:
"Come
on, you
bitch,
let's fuck
again."
He
dragged
me with
him, but
several
of his
friends just came along, so they took me to the
nearby "slaughterhouse". I fought back and didn't
want to go through the door and shouted: "I'm
Milo's wife!"
But Eduino hit me and asked: "Whose wife are
you?"
I repeated that I was Milo's wife and that if they
harmed me, they would regret it. Eduino grabbed
both of my nipples with his fingers while two
friends held me, pulled, pinched, and asked again
whose wife I was. I repeated that I was Milo's wife
because only insistence could save me now. They
had no way of knowing how Milo would react if
they had gone too far.
 99

In addition, I offered them my Negro girl that I

would fetch, but they didn't bother, undressed me,
laid me on the bed with the dirty mattress, forced
my legs open and Eduino grabbed my clit, pulled,
pinched and kept asking until I confirmed that I
was his wife.
Then the mass rape began. Sometimes I was so
out of touch that I don't even remember, but I did
notice that gradually almost all the "soldiers" and a
few friends were there and pounced on me,
celebrating my "fall", and I also noticed that they
were filming or taking pictures of me, and one of
them smirked loudly and said, "Listen, we got this
pregnant, we were more than 30. More than 30!"
As if he were the announcer of a commercial!
Others sent photos of me to friends and wrote
phrases like "The girl was crushed, you know what
I mean?"
 100

I kept begging
them to let me go,
but they just
laughed in my
face and said:
"You like it that
way, you bitch.
Come on, spread
your legs, that’s
how you feel most
comfortable!”
I said that I will be
Milo's wife again
and that I will
punish them, but
they laughed and
said: "A girl in the
CV has to be able
to take that."
I started to cry, but they found that horny and
filmed my face with tears alternately with my
smeared pussy in close-up and watched the video
smirking while the next one mounted me.
Through the half-open door I could see the dimly lit
courtyard, and there were men, and sometimes
girls, standing around, talking, drinking, smoking,
and all acting like it was a regular party.

Eventually I must have collapsed, and when I woke

up it was dawn and I was alone on the stained
mattress. I got up. Sperm and blood stuck and
flowed down my legs. I briefly considered showing
 101

myself like this to Milo so he could see what his

follower Eduino and his colleagues had made of
me, but I quickly realized that bothering him with
such ridiculous things in the middle of the night
would be pointless. He was now in bed with one or
two other girls, maybe he had even been able to
pick up one of the “Patricinhas”.
My clothes were gone, but I still had a jacket in the
house and just grabbed a skirt from Milo's sister,
then I disappeared to relax in my own house. My
parents didn't ask, they were used to my nocturnal
escapades and let me sleep until the afternoon. I
ate ravenously, took a good shower and headed to
the favela. I wanted to take the bull by the horns.
Had Milo given me to Eduino, or was that just a
one-night punishment? So, was I still Milo´s bride?
 102

In any
case, it
was of no
use
waiting at
home. If
Milo had
given me
away,
Eduino
would
come for
me and maybe even punish me for running away
from him. If that were the case, I would have to
play his wife and be good to him so that I could
continue to have the protection of the CV. Of
course, my position of power would be gone, but I
had girls working for me and at least I would
continue to have enough money. And who knows
what the future would bring.
On the other hand, if it was just an apprenticeship
and I'm still part of Milo, it would be all the more
important to show my colours.
So, I went to Milo's house with my son in my arms
and sat in the courtyard. A child can also be a
protection, especially if it's Milo's son. It was very
hot, and in the evening Milo came into the
courtyard with a few of his people, grinned at me
and they sat down not far from me. I peeked at him
and when nothing else happened I asked defiantly,
"How was your night with the Patricinhas?"
 103

He grinned
again and
replied: "You
surely fuck
better than
all these
chicks
together."
I didn't know
now if that
included a
hint to my
performance
that night,
pretended
not to
notice,
grinned and
said:
"Thanks.
You too."
He grinned even more, called me over and said,
"Why did you do that shit?"
"With the photos? I'm sorry I wasn't thinking
properly."
"Yeah, yeah, you girls always say so. As if you had
no brains and were just faithful and stupid. But
when it comes down to it, we can see that you
have brains. Not only are there female politicians
and they are just as bad as the men, no, the Third
Commando (drug gang hostile to the CV) even has
a female commander here now, and she knows all
 104

the ropes. You

girls play dumb
when you want
and when
nobody expects
you beat us.”
He looked
around for
applause and
got the
approval he
wanted from
his people.
I was satisfied.
The way he
treated me, I
still belonged to
him. I would
work my way
up again.
That wasn't
changed by the fact that Milo's men were writing a
new funk they called "More than 30" and proudly
playing the fresh recording to me. A funk is put
together on the computer with ready-made drum
patterns, and gifted rappers, of which the CV in the
Barão favela has a few, swiftly recite a quickly
made-up text full of primitive rhymes and dirty
words. Two years ago, I would have been proud if
someone had written a funk putaria (whore funk)
about me, because all the younger girls are into it,
at least the ones involved with the favelas, funk or
 105

the drug gangs.

Now it left me
cold, because I
knew that if I
really were Milo's
main wife, none
of this would have
happened and
then no one could
immortalize my
name in such a
funk where I am
shamelessly
called puta
(whore),
chuchuka (lollipop
sucker),
Popozuda (The one with the splendid ass) and
Pepituda (The one with the great clit). Still, the
people at my school who didn't know the
background admired me for this funk as far as they
knew it or had heard of it.
Two days later, my parents approached me about
a video. Apparently, my father had been asked
about it by a distraught work colleague. They
already had it on their phone and showed it to me.
"How can you do this to us?" they kept asking and
my mother wept. I needed something to organize
my conflicting thoughts. Finally I said: “I was raped.
They put something in my drink and raped me.”
They asked a few more details, and after a while
my father said: "You have to report them."
 106

Of course
I didn't
want that.
Because
then I
would
lose my
last
support in
the CV.
On the
other
hand, if I
didn't
report it,
how
would I
make my
parents believe that it was an act of rape without
my consent and not the act of a whore. I objected
that it was dangerous to report the CV, but my
parents said I only would report individual guys,
not the organization nor the leader, so they had
answers to all my objections, and I didn't know
anymore what to say and had only confusion in my
head; so they ended up taking me to the police
station and then to a hospital for tests.
I reluctantly testified. The video was proof enough,
so I didn't need to go into details. As I sat there
with the police, it kept pounding in my ear: A
member of the CV never cooperates with the
 107

police. But now I was once on this track, and

everything took its course.

Some of the rapists could be identified on the

video, there were even two students from my
school there, and it was precisely with those
people who did not live particularly hidden that the
police had an easy victory and arrested them. With
that, a press release was issued and the whole
thing was in the press.
The police were finally able to spread the news of
success, and all the media reported. Several
arrests in a barbaric case that took place in the
heart of the CV's sphere of influence, where the
police have no access. Of course, those arrested
were all just minnows in the CV, but the arrests
were sensitive pinpricks against the CV.
All over the country there were demonstrations for
me and for victims of rape in general, and some
started talking about the worst rape in Brazilian
 108

history. The whole favela of Barão, on the other

hand, adopted a totally hostile attitude.
That started at school. The students from the
favela scolded and insulted me. As I heard, even
Milo had reacted sharply to the publication of the
videos and photos. He is reported to have said:
"The girl was punished for being stupid in posting
 109

photos with our machine gun and a few hours later

those who should be punishing her commit the
same stupidity and lure the cops with it. What have
I done, oh God, to be punished by being
surrounded by such big fools!”
Allegedly, he not only fined those who forwarded
or even published the material not only to friends
 110

of the CV but also to outsiders, (the money would

be deducted from what they received monthly as
"soldiers",) but also demoted two sub-
commissioners. Therefore, it should have been
clear to everyone that they had done something
wrong by publishing the material, and I told the few
who spoke to me that too, but it didn't help. The
vast majority saw the blame solely on me.
Cintia cut me dead, and during the recess Amelia,
who was already two years out of school, suddenly
appeared and talked to Vitoria and my other two
prostitutes and even to my Negro girl, telling
everyone that I wasn't their boss anymore and that
they should no longer take orders from me.
Cintia got Vitoria, so she had to bring the money
earned as a sucker to Cintia in the future, and the
other two girls were given to a boy. But none of the
CV people wanted the Negro girl, perhaps they
 111

didn’t know that she was making good money and

when Amelia saw this she got angry and simply
asked everyone around who wanted her. Everyone
was taken aback at such an offer of a ugly black
girl, and nobody raised his hand until suddenly an
otherwise very shy boy in my class answered. Now
quickly several others crowded around, but Amelia
said it was the boy who answered first. She asked
him if he had ever had a girl, and when he said no,
she briefly described how the girl had been used
and that she had to be beaten occasionally.
The boy looked so disturbed that Amelia asked,
"Are you sure you want that thing?"
When he
said yes,
she said,
"Then slap
her so you
get used to
it."
The boy
objected
that he
didn't
really hit
girls.
Amelia
corrected:
"This is no
ordinary
girl, this is
a hooker.
 112

Normal girls get beaten by their parents, and

hookers by their boss. You have to hit hookers
every once in a while to make them work.”
Then the boy struck. It was a soft boy, probably a
favela girl like my Negro girl was stronger than a
soft shy boy, but the poor thing knew never to fight
back. Seeing that the slap hadn't provoked any
hostile aggression in my Negro girl, the boy
grinned happily as if he'd made an important
discovery and slapped the poor thing again.
"Thank him,
Negro girl,
and ask him
to take you
as his
whore."
"Thanks for
the slap.
Can I be
your
hooker?”
"Yes you
may."
"See,"
Amelia said,
"it's okay.
The thing
has a
number of
customers
and makes
at least 30
 113

to 60 real a day, I guess, but of course that can be

improved and depends on you. Let her give you
the names and addresses of the customers so that
you can check them. Will you obey your master
and give him all names, Negro girl?”
"Yes."
"If it makes any fuss, send it to me and I'll put it
back on track. A thing like that runs like clockwork
if you treat it right.”
"Does she live with you?" asked the boy.
"No, of course not," Amelia replied. "She has a
home. But of course, you can also take her with
you from time to time, you can do whatever you
want with her, she's yours now. Of course, you can
also give her to your friends for free, but the
important thing is that the thing makes money. 50
real a day should actually be the minimum. You
can keep half of that and give me the other half as
 114

protection money, understand? You can give that

to Cintia every day, you always see each other
here."
With these sentences, some boys immediately
rallied behind Melina's new master showing that
they pretended to be friends: "Are you taking this
thing with you today? Can I come with you?"
You could literally see how the boy's shyness fell
away and he suddenly felt big. But he had one
more question: "And if she is always obedient and
does a good job, do I still have to punish her from
time to time?"
"Yes of course."
"Why actually?"
"I already said that. Because she's a whore.
Hookers always get spanked. She's used to it. If
she isn't beaten, she will think she’s no whore and
become unproductive over time. And besides, as
you know yourself, she is one of Bia, the traitor.”
 115

"Come to your master, Negro girl!" he said. She

came closer and he slapped her again. She looked
down in embarrassment and he grinned
approvingly at his new friends and said in a loud
voice: "Say thank you, bitch."
"Thanks."
“Of course, if you run into any problems with that
thing, you can talk to Cintia; she knows her stuff
and can help you”, Amelia said and turned to go.
Her eyes fell on me, and she turned back to the
others: "Oh yes, and that one, you all can hit her
from now on too."
With that
she spat at
my feet and
proudly
walked
away.
Everyone
looked at
me partly
hostilely,
partly
curiously. I
didn't look
down like
the whores
and slave
girls do, but
looked
back and
threatened:
 116

"Try it and you'll regret it." Moments later, the hour

bell rang.
During the next hour I asked to go to the bathroom
and secretly left the school. Not wanting to be
spanked or raped at the next break or after school,
I rushed home, called my mother and said I was
being threatened. She told me to go to the police
immediately, but I went to my mother's place of
work instead. Then we went to the police together.
I exaggerated greatly in my representations. Of
course, I couldn't say that four slaves had been
stolen from me, but said that my school bag and
cell phone had been taken away from me.

I had lost
everything
and my life
was in
danger. So I
told the
police that I
will only go
along with
them and
testify if I get
a witness
protection
program so
that I can
start a whole
new life.
 117

I hid in an aunt's house and followed the reactions

of the environment only on the Internet. On my
Facebook, I was savagely abused and called a
whore, bitch, slut, traitor, liar, etc., and on my
Facebook, my former friends posted links to watch
the videos of my "disgrace" as I "did it for to get
pregnant from 33 at the same time”.
In fact, it seems in the videos that I turn myself in
such a way that I can be raped better, kept my legs
open for the next person when one got off me, and
even opened my pussy with my hands, but they
forced me to
open my legs
and I just
adjusted
myself
because my
body hurts
from lying still
for a long time
with all the
weight off the
bodies on me
and
manipulated
my hand with
my pussy
because it hurt.
I wrote back
and quoted,
among other
things, the
 118

sentence: "Crime is never the victim’s fault."

But I didn't stand a chance. Just that sentence
brought me countless nasty comments, and they
said I wasn't a victim. I wrote that after all it wasn't
me who posted the photos and videos and I wasn't
the one who raped, but the more I wrote, the more
I was insulted, and meanwhile more and more
people became aware of it and the number of
people who had viewed the videos and photos had
already risen to a million.
That's when I realized that I didn't have a chance
anymore and deleted my whole beautiful Facebook
account that I was so proud of.
Soon the
case was
even in the
international
press and I
even gave
an interview
to Globo, the
biggest
television
station in
Brazil, which,
as usual,
didn't show
my face. The
police
celebrated
their success
and the
 119

repercussions in the press, some had earned

promotions, and the cops who leaked the reports
to the press made good money. So, they were in a
good mood and stood up for me, and a few weeks
later I disappeared from Rio de Janeiro forever,
and everything I once loved was left behind. I
would start again from scratch somewhere in a
secret place, albeit with a nice financial jump-start
from the state.

(The case also made a big impression in some

media in Europe,
for example in
the traditional
German
Magazin Stern
No. 24 in 2016.
The imprisoned
commander of
the CV
Fernandinho
Beira-Mar was
even “honoured”
by the renowned
newspaper “Die
Zeit” in 2017
with a huge
interview. Link:
https://www.zeit.de/wi
rtschaft/2017-
07/fernandinho-beira-
mar-kartellchef-
drogenhandel-kokain-
brasilien)
 120

Background information: The brides of drug

gangs

In addition to the influential girls who get involved

with drug gangs and benefit from their power, there
are girls who throw themselves at these powerful
girls to benefit a little from their power. I myself met
a girl who used to be a wallflower at my school
until she came on to one of the powerful girls and
became her bosom friend. She was called Uliane
and
became the
right hand
of that
powerful
girl. When
they once
wanted to
prostitute a
girl from my
wider
neighbour-
hood who
resisted,
Uliane set a
trap for the
powerful girl
and invited
the victim to
a meeting.
There the
 121

"boss" and three boys were waiting, and together

they held the victim and stripped her clothes.
Uliane and two boys held the victim while a third
took his turn raping her.
The “boss” just stood by and gave orders, Uliane
did the work, and as the girl still resisted after
being raped, Uliane beat and tortured her
according to the orders of the boss. The boss even
went out at times to make phone calls, and then it
was Uliane who told the boys what to do with the
girl who was going to be prostituted.
When she finally capitulated and promised to obey
in everything, Uliane ordered the girl to open her
pussy, masturbate and other self-degrading acts,
and only when she was sure that the girl was really
broken now, she called the boss and paraded the
girl, that is, she ordered her to repeat the
shameless and degrading acts in front of the boss
again.
 122

I was also a prostitute back then, but I had a pimp,

so I had nothing to do with the "boss". But the boys
in my class knew I was a whore and often treated
me as fair game. Often two or three would hold me
with my back against the wall and one or two
others would stick their fingers in my panties and
fiddle with my pussy. Uliane was often there
among the boys to hold me tight. She never put
her fingers in my panties herself, but she cheered
on the boys: "Put a finger in her" or "Pinch her" or
"Pull on her pussy" were typical phrases for her.
Some "bosses" let their good friends and helpers
"run" a "putinha" (little whore or slut) or a
"cadelinha" (little bitch, female puppy). That means
the helper gets orders to take a prostituted or
enslaved girl to a party. There she offers that her
"pooch" can give head to the boys or even be gang
raped. The "boss" has this done in order to
maintain or improve her reputation and to win the
boys over. The girl who was taken away has to
 123

prove that she has learned to be always obedient,

even when the boss herself is absent. I think girls
like these bosses enjoy the fact that they can set
up whole hierarchies as they see fit, where one
person can give orders to the other just because
the boss wants it that way. This is the total triumph
of their power.
This is reminiscent of the behaviour of some
hookers who, over time, have gained the trust of
their pimp through numerous proofs of loyalty and
thus become a helper or even right hand for him.
They also often attract new girls. Some have no
benefit themselves from luring a girl into the pimp's
clutches, but they do it willingly and consciously,
knowing perfectly that the girl will be gang raped,
tortured, humiliated, forced into prostitution and
exploited. For them, the knowledge that they are
plunging others into the same misery that they may
have suffered ten or twenty years earlier is a kind
of satisfaction and revenge.
 124

Background information: Girls prostitute

girls

The fact that women also act as pimps is not so

unusual, because women are usually much less
controlled by the police, because the typical image
of a pimp is a tattooed, beefy, brutal man and not a
serious-looking older lady. For example, the
exploitation of Nigerian forced prostitutes in Italy is
almost 100% in the hands of older women. The
fact that these in turn work together with men and
also call
them to
have
their
charges
broken in
or
punished
is
another
matter.
The
function
of a
madam,
bawd,
whore-
mistress
or
bordello
 125

queen has existed in that business since ancient

times, and while some of these are merely
subordinates to a mafia, others are genuine
owners of their brothel and often also owners of
their hookers.
Less well known is that also young girls sometimes
already send other girls onto the streets.
Internationally, Indonesia in particular is under
criticism. Every year, underage girls are arrested
there who send others out on the streets. Some
girls, who are mostly 14 to 17 years old, have up to
30
hookers
between
the ages
of 8 and
19 who
work for
them.
However
, most of
the girl
pimps do
not use
force to
persuade
their
protégés,
but
persuade
them
with
 126

good arguments or use cunning. They are usually

very gifted and tricky to please customers, building
networks with good customers and making them
feel good and pay good money. They organize the
customers for their hooker girls and often only
charge 25% for this, leaving the hooker girls with
75% and those are very happy with the division.
Nevertheless, the smartest pimp girls make 3000
euros a month, which is a very good salary in
Indonesia, even for an adult.
So, while most pimp girls rely more on their powers
of persuasion, they are professionally equipped
and have horsebreakers or better marebreakers to
get the
hookers
used to
service and
obedience,
because not
all of their
hookers are
susceptible
to their
cunnings and
persuasive
skills, and
many in-
experienced
girls just
need "a little
training and
getting used
 127

to" in the beginning.

The pimp girls need special skill if they want to sell
the virginity of newly won girls. According to a
report in the Associated Press in 2014, a
particularly skilled girl traded $2,000, a BlackBerry
(cell phone) and a motorcycle for the virginity of a
cute classmate. And clever pimp girls first exhibit
the virgin for a day or two; that is, men are allowed
to open the pussy of the still virgin and future
hooker for a fee and look at the delicate veil, but
under no circumstances damage it.
It is less well known that there are a number of
such girls in
Brazil, because
young people
and children are
not of criminal
responsibility,
and if the police
pursue such
crimes at all,
they do not get
into the press
because those
acts of minors
are not criminal
offenses in the
sense of the
law. (In Brazil,
death squads of
drug gangs
always take at
 128

least
one
minor
with
them,
who
then
carries
out the fatal shot or at least later claims to have
done it. He cannot be punished. When the police
catch someone like that, he usually says very
cheekily: "I'm a minor.")
In Brazil, such girls rely on their power as brides of
a drug gangster, or at least of a member of a drug
gang. They can
use it to
threaten other
girls: "If you
don't give me
any money, I'll
have your
brother shot."
It is usually
much more
effective to
threaten the
girl's family,
because when
the girl is
exploited to the
point of losing
self-respect,
 129

she will no longer value her own life and will

respond to threats against her life with words like:
"Then kill me, I don’t mind."
The pimp girl, of course, can use brute force
against the oppressed girl, make her docile, for
example, with small burns, but for this she needs
helpers, and the "punishments" leave marks on the
victim's body. Such a girl naturally has helpers in
the form of girlfriends, who always gather around a
strong and influential person, and if necessary, the
boys from
the drug
gang. But
why does
she have
to go
through so
much
trouble
when a
short word
 130

is enough: "If you don't do that, I'll have your

brother killed."
In the face of such or similar threats, nearly every
girl will sacrifice herself walking the streets or
doing other terrible things.
Nevertheless, the subjugated girls are often
punished and tortured, but according to my own
observations, this is carried out more out of pure
sadism on the part of the pimp girls and not
because other methods of oppression have not
worked. Also, the pimp girls want to show strength
to others, not only to the victim and to other slut
girls, but also to impress their girlfriends with their
strength, believing that this way they will gain more
respect in
the eyes of
the drug
gang guys
as well.
Therefore,
at least
every fourth
hooker girl
who is in
the power
of a pimp
girl has at
least once
the cruel
experience
of being
grabbed,
 131

undressed, held in a certain position or even tied

up and then tortured with devices such as lighters
or tongs.
Gangster babes who are only 13 or 14 themselves
often have hooker girls who are not only their own
age or younger, but even older ones. In Goiânia,
central Brazil, the case of a 13-year-old girl
became known who sent a 27-year-old woman out
on the streets exploiting her without mercy, in Rio
de Janeiro a girl from the favela Alemão named
Elisângela is said to have owned several adult
prostitutes, and a girl from Vila Velha whom I know
personally, even sent a boy on the streets.
Another girl, who I also knew personally, earned
between 2,000 and 8,000 reals a month with up to
eight hookers between the ages of 11 and 16, and
she saved all the money. When she finished
school, she used the money to finance studies and
 132

a law degree, which is very expensive in Brazil.

Basically, I find this approach worthy of
recognition, since the girl at least made something
out of the money. But most pimp girls spend their
money on fleeting luxuries and drugs or give it
away to their drug
gang lovers. At
most, they renovate
their family's house
or pay for a surgery
or an expensive
medication for a
sick family member.
But often the family
doesn't even know
that the girl has so
much money at her
disposal. She keeps
quiet about it to
avoid questions
about where the
 133

money is coming from, because many parents

tolerate their daughter dating a drug dealer but
would take it badly to hear that their girl is a pimp.
However, some girls simply tell their parents that
the drug lord gave them the money.
Unfortunately, there are no statistics on this
subject as far as the prostitute associations are
aware and I was able to find out for myself, but
according to my own estimation and that of many
other colleagues, about 40% of girl whores were
tricked into subordinating and prostituting
themselves for a girl associated with a drug gang
simply by
verbal
threats,
persuasion
and
subterfuge.
In 30% it is
done
through the
use of brute
force, either
by the girl
herself,
along with
friends and
helpers, or
by one or
more
members of
the drug
 134

gang, or by summoned “horsebreakers”,

sometimes paid for breaking in and enslaving the
girl. 20% of the hooker girls are already broken in
and given away ready for perfect submission to the
young exploiters, or they are bought by them
already “tamed”, and up to 10% of the young
hookers voluntarily place themselves under the
protection of such an exploiter girl and offer to go
work for her.
They hope it will give them some protection, or
they think that if they have a good relationship with
the powerful girl their prestige will increase, or they
think it's fancy
or adventurous
to prostitute
themselves and
don't know how
to go about it
and can
therefore be
brought into the
business by
such an
exploiter.
I myself once
witnessed a
very well-
behaved and
shy pretty
schoolgirl
suddenly being
bullied by two
 135

other girls whom she had been friends with before.

She didn't fight back, but one day she went up to
the girl in her class, who was leader in the class
through her connections with the local drug gang
and who already had two young hookers, and
offered to be her prostitute too. The little pimpress
was surprised herself and asked if the girl had ever
made some dough with her sweet little cunt, and
when the girl said no, further questions revealed
that she was still a virgin in all three mouths.
Since the young pimp girl wasn't particularly
business savvy, she didn't sell the virginity, but let
her
friends
ride her
in and
tame
and train
her for a
week,
after
which
she had
to serve
real
clients.
Since
the girl
was very
naive,
she
always
 136

gave all the money to her pimp, not knowing that

most hookers are allowed to keep a part. So, her
only gain was that the two ex-girlfriends could no
longer bully her.

Sometimes the brides of the drug gang also get

girls as presents. A drug gang usually has female
slaves. These are mostly girls offered as payment
by drug addicted men who don't have the money to
pay off their debts. These are often their daughters
or wives or girlfriends (of course, drug dealers only
take
young
women,
but in
Brazil a
13-year-
old girl
who lives
with
someone
is also
called a
wife, even
if there is
no civil
marriage.)
Men often
come to
the drug
lords and
bring
 137

them nieces or cousins. I myself was once taken

by one of my cousins under a pretext to the “Boca”
(mouth), the drug dealer station in the favela, and
had to suck 16 cocks there to pay his debts,
otherwise he would have been shot, they said.
A colleague even told me that a man lured his
sister-in-law's niece, who was not related to him
and who was visiting him, to the "Boca". When
they were there in the house, the man said he
wanted to pay with the girl.
She protested and said she had nothing in
common with this man and that he should be shot,
she didn't care, but it didn't help her. The drug lord
insisted that she should at least stay until the man
had provided
another girl of
equal value. The
man was
allowed to go
and of course
never brought
another girl, so
the sister-in-
law's niece was
kept. After just a
week of
disciplinary
treatment in the
form of perverse
humiliation and
torture and more
than 400 rapes,
 138

she resigned herself to being a slave to this drug

gang from now on.
On a whim, or as a birthday present, or just for fun,
some men give their slave girl to their "bride" or
sometimes to a relative or friend's girlfriend, who
can then exploit and prostitute the slave girl for
their benefit.
 139

Epilogue
33 rapes are, of course, an extraordinary form of
brutality, and it must be emphasized that every rape is
a cruel, cowardly and destructive act. And the
perpetrator is well aware of this, and he quite
consciously destroys the victim's personality and life.
Most of the time, he doesn't rape because he assumes
the victim is agreeing, but he wants consciously to
humiliate her and break her self-confidence.
Of course, 33 rapes is not a record. Girls who are
forced into prostitution are often raped by many men in
an attempt to break them in and make them willing
cash cows for their pimps or "owners." Personally, I
was lucky not to have been raped by more than 20
men during my "apprenticeship", but I know female
colleagues who have had to endure many more. Some
had to perform oral service on men, sometimes
women, all night, and then they were "fucked" by
anyone who wanted to.
It is an old pimp tradition that a new girl who is to be
"made ready to be hired" must first orally satisfy many
people, often everyone present at the "housewarming
party" or “slut-warming party”, the traditional
inauguration party of a new prostitute. After often hours
of being naked and on her knees, sucking one after
another, she is raped until she has truly become a
whore in everyone's eyes, including her own. Only then
is the “fledgling hooker” allowed to sleep with paying
customers.
I know of cases when the girl sucked all night, about a
hundred people. To this end, those present at the
festival often call friends on their cell phones so that
the girl “has the chance to learn how to suck properly
with as many people as possible”. The debutante was
then raped by around 50 people who were still present,
 140

which is called "to

break in a slut" in
English and "to
ride in" in
German. This
word alludes to
the fact that
horses are first
broken in until
they no longer
buck and endure
their riders
willingly and
lovingly.
That's why the
freshly minted
whore girl is
fucked until the men feel from her reactions that they
are now really welcome in the cunt, in the mouth, in the
ass and anywhere on and in the body of the new
hooker.

When another woman is raped, the population is

outraged, and in many countries (such as Brazil) such
perpetrators are sometimes even brutally lynched. But
when it comes to a prostitute, she is seen as a slut and
a whore, and few feel sorry for her.
This is unbearable hypocrisy! After all, she only
became a prostitute after being raped!
When a guy drags his pretty neighbour into his
apartment, rapes her and then lets her go, people
come out and want to lynch him. On the other hand, if
he doesn't let the neighbour go, but rapes her several
times, calls friends who also humiliate and rape her
until she is finally willing to go to work for the man, then
 141

for many
people
everything
is fine. I
find that
absurd,
but the
majority,
or at least
many,
think it's
okay and
fair,
because a
certain
amount of
training,
violence
and acclimatization is necessary if the society wants to
have good hookers.
I quote here a passage from my book “Hooker’s Stories
Part II”, from the Brazilian edition “Contos de
prostitutas II”, which is also mentioned in my book “As
melhores enquetes do Orkut” (“The Best Polls of the
Orkut Network”):
A survey that was carried out several times was: “How
many people should a girl suck the day before starting
as a hooker?”
An explanation followed: “Imagine that you are the
owner or pimp of a beautiful filly. How many people
should she suck beforehand to make a good
inauguration? (When answering, keep in mind that it
takes about an hour to serve ten people, so sucking a
hundred times will take all night.)”
 142

As previously
explained, would-be
hookers are forced to
perform oral service
on everyone present
at the "housewarming
party" on the eve of
their "launch". Many
women are shy and
don’t want her pussy
licked in front of all
the guests, but at
least for all men it is a
matter of honour to fill
the mouth of the
soon-to-be slut. The
celebration often
takes place in a club
or a large private
house, where usually 20 to 50 people commemorate,
but sometimes more than a hundred, which then
means 10 to 13 hours of hard work for the "trainee".
 143

Some people counter that the sight of the naked,

kneeling and humiliated girl would make the men so
hot that it would hardly take them five minutes, so it
would only take the girl 6 to 8 hours to attend all.
Despite the explanation at the beginning of the survey,
the relative majority of Internet users ticked: "100 to
200 people". The arithmetic mean was even 340
people, other mean values such as the square mean
were around 200.
A large majority of around 75% also want the “trainee”
to please all the women present, to swallow the loads
the men spurt down her throat and to lick the floor
clean when she loses a few drops.
The majority are also in favour of the victim sucking
naked, on her knees, and that viewers should be
allowed to stand up and fondle the trainee from behind
and even shove fingers into her while she sucks.
Almost everyone (99% !!) agrees that it is permissible
to hit the victim from behind on the bare buttocks while
she is eagerly bending over the shaft to be sucked
exposing her nude buttocks. Almost everyone is also in
favour that the candidate has to thank for every portion
of “man milk” received and that she should be pu-
nished
if some-
one
does
not
climax
in her
mouth.
 144

After all this torture, the girl is then officially declared a

whore, and often, like real slaves, she gets a new
name with it. And her life as a whore often begins with
a mass rape, with everyone present "banging" her once
or several times, i.e. "breaking in". The intention is also
that after this ordeal the girl is glad to be able to sleep
with customers who are much less rowdy. Even without
counting the oral sex, many girls end up with more than
33 rapes.
Again, Internet users agree that a good number of
rapes are necessary. Only 1% think that only the pimp
or owner should
break the girl in,
following the
old custom that
a young
hooker's first
customer is
always the
pimp. 15% only
had their young
hooker
"mounted" by a
few friends,
around ten or
twenty. But the
vast majority, if
they had to
make the
decision as a
pimp or owner,
would let have
“fucked the
living daylight
out of” such a
 145

girl by 50, 100 or even more people.

Almost everyone thinks that such a whore should be
grateful for such an upbringing and training and that
she should then immediately begin to attend customers
without any right to have a break, for not to "get out of
practice".
Half part even think it's fair to charge the hooker for
training and upbringing, leaving her indebted to her
pimp or owner, and over 70% think she should be
mercilessly whipped if she slacks off in her work.
The numbers are probably not representative, because
such groups in the former large Brazilian network Orkut
were naturally more frequented by horny men than by
demure older ladies or innocent girls. But they clearly
show a brutal tendency.
I believe that such rapes are much worse than the
famous one suffered by Bia. And often the prospective
forced prostitutes have
previously been completely
respectable and modest girls,
sometimes even virgins.
But even after breaking in, the
rapes do not stop for such a
girl, because her "owner" has
the right to "take" her at any
time and also to make her
available to others for free or
to punish real or perceived
misconduct by gang rapes,
sometimes without any
misconduct only preventive for
to "maintain discipline". Here
are two examples from my
book “The Best Polls from the
Network Orkut”:
 146

Answer from Pricila, from

Guaranhuns (near Sao
Paulo):

Sucking 50 times
In the first few days after I
had become a prostitute,
my pimp took me to a
festival. I had to get
naked and on my knees
perform oral sex on
everyone present, about
twenty men and about
twenty women, mostly
other hookers. At first
they let me work, but after
a while the spectators amused themselves by slapping
my bare bottom and grabbing between my legs from
behind. And yet they expected me to keep going with
zeal and focus and even showing passion, as they
said. The ones I was serving held my head by the hair
 147

and also slapped me in the face if they weren't

satisfied. They emphasized that they were only doing
this to train and help me.
This went on all night, and afterwards my tongue,
throat and gums were sore, my butt was red and my
pussy was wet and hot like an Amazonian swamp.
Finally, they pushed me hard to the ground, and about
15 men got on me and raped me to their heart's
content and with all their strength. From that day on I
knew that I had truly become a hooker and began to
submit myself completely and became an
accommodating, willing and good girl for them.

Ceyla, from
Belo
Horizonte:
218 guys in
30 hours
"When I was
a utterly
enslaved and
subjugated
whore, my
owner
sometimes
brought me to
construction
sites or mines
that employed
many,
sometimes
hundreds of
workers. I had
 148

to stay there and to satisfy the men, mostly over 50 a

day. I was locked in a container or barrack and most of
them entered one by one. Some came in twos or
threes at the same time. My owner had told me to go
along with everything, to respond to the men's thrusts
with my pelvis, to tighten my pussy and to use my
tongue when sucking, otherwise I would be punished
afterwards.
After 12 hours, my whole body hurt and I was so
exhausted that I couldn't move my pelvis and suffered
a lot. On top of that, I was punished with a crop for my
“laziness on duty”. My record was 218 workers in 30
hours straight. Vanessa, my owner's favorite cynical,
mean and cruel whore, burned this number between
my labia
with a
heated
needle
so that
from now
on this
number
will
always
stay with
me and I
should
feel even
more like
a dirty
negro
whore.
But
instead
of feeling
 149

ashamed and tormented by it today, two years later I

met Jesus, became a Christian, and God helped me to
get out of the mess. Today I work in the household of a
lovely family with two small children.”

Even after a woman or girl has been forced into

prostitution, she continues to be subjected to rape. As
already written, their pimps, owners or other
responsible persons can "use" them at any time free of
charge. She is punished if she has few customers, is
not submissive or works without fervour and love or
makes other mistakes. She is beaten, raped and has to
pay fine. If the pimp let her spank and rape by
perverted customers, he will earn much money and
needn’t give a part to the girl, because it’s not usual
work, but punishment. A hidden but cruel form of rape.
But even having
sex with
customers can be
considered rape if
the victim is forced
to do so.
Of course, the
customer thinks
that there is a deal
and that there is
mutual
understanding, but
he often does not
know that the
hooker gets little
or no money and
is ruthlessly
exploited and
forced by beatings
 150

or blackmail and threats. If the customer knows that, it

doesn't stop using the girl anyway, on the contrary,
some even think it's exciting. Others claim they are
doing this to help the girl, as she will be beaten if she
doesn't have the minimum number of customers that
day. In some countries, however, such a customer can
be punished despite having paid, although it is of
course difficult to prove that he knew about the
hooker's situation. If you count also the customers,
good forced prostitutes end up with more than 200,000
rapes in their lives.
But it is also true that after the rapes, prostitutes are
psychologically much more stable than other girls and
women. The reason probably lies in the fact that
society reacts in the wrong way. A prostitute has
colleagues who know the situation, who have had
similar experiences and who can really comfort and
support the new “freshly tamed hooker” by telling them
that it has happened to them too, and that the world is
just like that.
A “normal” rape victim, on the other hand, is treated
like a sick person or even a leper. She has to tell her
 151

story over and over again in front of psychologists, and

each time it becomes more difficult and embarrassing
for her as the psychologist fails to tell her plain and
simply that she is innocent, that she is by no means
dirty or repulsive, but that she has just become the
victim of a crime, just as others have their bicycles or
cars or purses stolen. One is frightened, is outraged,
but life goes on. You buy a new bike or car, replace
your purse and all its contents, or wash your pussy,
and then it's best to forget the act very quickly.
If society were to say to me now “No, Petala, how can
you talk like that, comparing rape to having a purse
stolen is cynical”, the society gives victims the
impression that they have just suffered something
different, what cannot be replaced, brushed aside or
washed away, but that the crime is now his eternal
burden, that the victim now has an indelible stain. And
that's exactly what I find wrong, and I have plenty of
experience in the sphere.

But even excluding prostitutes, the Bia case is hardly

 152

the worst rape in Brazilian history. There were and are

children who are raped for years, there are girls who
are sold to drug gangs, as I described in my book
"Escrava de favela" (Slave of the Favela), there are
cases in which the victim is additionally tortured, and
there are those scandalous cases where a woman,
sometimes even a minor, is put in men's prisons in
Brazil where she is brutally raped in overcrowded cells
with 20 or more criminals, usually for days, like my
book "Girls in the Men's Prison" has described that
crime on the basis of one case and documented on the
basis of several cases.
Going to other countries, for example to Islamic
spheres of influence, we have to think of the many
Christian, Yazidi,
Buddhist, Hindu
and other girls
who can be
caught and
raped, condoned
by the Islamic
society and often
also by the
police, and
underage virgin
girls are
particularly
popular to the
men, who often
band together
and catch a girl,
or when one
catches a girl, he
calls all friends
and
 153

acquaintanc
es to
"celebrate"
with him,
and they in
turn call still
more friends.

Slavery
existed in
Brazil until
1889, and owners could not only legally rape but also
mistreat, hang naked, torture or flog slave girls and
women, and child molesters could legally buy
themselves a little Negro girl or become friends with
slave owners, or a tutor, overseer, pistoleer, or
craftsman on a farm, and, with permission of the
master, abuse the helpless slave girls. My book “The
Indio Girl” reports on this, among other things.

The rape Bias is a perverse act and the pride with

 154

which the perpetrators shared the videos is profound,

but it is certainly not the worst rape in Brazilian history,
as the victim himself has said. Unfortunately, there are
much more brutal and cruel cases.

Some links from Brazil about the “worst rape”:

https://epoca.oglobo.globo.com/tempo/noticia/2016/05/suspeito-de-
estupro-e-um-dos-chefes-da-faccao-criminosa-mais-violenta-do-rio.html
https://veja.abril.com.br/brasil/policia-tenta-identificar-bandidos-que-
praticaram-estupro-coletivo-em-favela-do-rio-de-janeiro/
https://www.gazetadopovo.com.br/vida-e-cidadania/com-execucao-
decretada-pelo-trafico-vitima-de-estupro-coletivo-deixa-rj-
esb2qyu74ekch812oibcsugd8/
https://www.correiodopovo.com.br/not%C3%ADcias/pol%C3%ADcia/qua
ndo-acordei-tinham-33-caras-em-cima-de-mim-diz-v%C3%ADtima-de-
estupro-coletivo-1.203007
 155

Dear Reader

I hope you enjoyed my story. It is taken from

the collection "Stories of Hookers", Volumes 1
and 2. I hope that through my stories you will
understand a little better what moves whores in
their hearts. Always remember this when you
are with prostitutes, be it as a client, friend,
neighbour or pimp: they are human beings with
a heart. Grant them your respect and love.
For their part, they give the best they can: their
love and their bodies.

Petala Parreira
 156

About the author:

Petala Parreira (in English: Petal of Wine) lives in a

Brazilian port city in the state of Espirito Santo.
She began prostituting herself regularly at the age
of 14 to pay off debts, urged by "friends" and
cousins. She has always tried to do her job well
and with dedication, and friendships with other
prostitutes have always been important to her,
soon also via the internet. After getting to know the
organization "Hookers for Jesus" (Hookers for
Jesus), she got involved in it and got to know
prostitutes from other countries with their often
moving and heartbreaking, often cruel, sad but
also sometimes encouraging stories. Her books
include the story of a
Thai girl who falls into
the clutches of the
notorious Russian
mafia through the
international trafficking
in girls, as well as the
fate of a young girl who
is put in a men's prison
in Brazil or the report of
one of the girls who
was kidnapped by the
Islamic terrorist
organization Boko
Haram and had to
endure unspeakable
abuse there. Her first
 157

work was the volume of short stories "Contos de

Prostitutas" (Stories of Whores) with accounts of
the lives of prostitutes, mainly forced prostitutes,
and other sex-slaves from all over the world.
Considered her masterpiece is the extensive
historical novel “A índia” ("The Indio Girl"), for
which she did extensive research and which takes
us right into the heart of the corrupt slave-owning
society of the 19th century in Brazil.

Links:
https://contosdasputas.blogspot.com/
https://petalaautora.blogspot.com/
https://petalaparreirabuecher.blogspot.com/
https://maedchenimmaennerknast.blogspot.de/
 158

Bia - 33 times impregnated – "The worst rape in

the history of Brazil" (?)

The true story of a girl who gets involved with a

local drug lord in a Brazilian favela and who
becomes "famous" after being raped by 33
“soldiers” of the gang. The videos that the young
men published on the internet polarized society,
some shouted for justice, but those from the favela
harassed the victim. What is the real story behind
the sensational headlines in newspapers?
This tale written by Petala Parreira, a great
connoisseur of the milieu, shows once again the
perversity, hypocrisy and dubiousness of society
and reveals the customs of the small local drug
gangs that live among the people, attend schools
and have a great impact on children and young
people. With 158 pages and more than 150
spectacular photos illustrating the life in this cruel
and unknown environment.

Get the book in pdf, epub or mobi on

https://petalaparreirabia.blogspot.com/