As a lifelong California girl I have reaped the benefits of sun, sand, and a very liberal environment. After becoming a nude dancer as a teenager in Los Angeles I spent decades in the exotic dance profession while also posing for nudie magazines (remember those?) and performing in adult videos. Still fitness conscious and still an exhibitionist I now spend most of my time wrestling, doing a little bondage, and producing videos. Please join me on my erotic journey - along with stunning archives of material I also have exciting new adventures each and every month!

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Greetings, yesterday I finally drove to Venice to pick up my mail. I no longer live in that area and no longer drive on the freeway (bizarre phobia which developed in 2007) so my visits to the box have become much more infrequent. To my delight many holiday packages were waiting for me and I looked forward to opening them at home. During the long trip home I stopped for coffee. As I was pulling out of the donut shop driveway something unexpected happened and I now wish I had handled everything better. Here is an excerpt from an e-mail that I sent to a local women's shelter late last night:

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"..Earlier this afternoon a young woman approached my car and asked for help. She was bleeeding from the nose and had bruises on her chest and neck which seemed to indicate that she had been brutally beaten and strangled. I insisted on driving her to the nearby police station on Santa Fe Avenue even though she resisted the suggestion. In the parking lot of the police station she became combative with me and refused to go in. A man, who I believed to be a police officer in regular clothes, commented that I couldn't force her to do anything. I informed him that she was 17 (as she had told me earlier) and he said he would ask someone to come outside. No one came and two other police officers drove by even though I tried to signal them. To calm her down I told the young lady I would drive her where she wanted to go (Del Amo Metrolink Station). In the car I repeatedly asked if she would like to visit an urgent care center and she always declined. She did use my phone to speak with friends who were waiting at the train station. Finally I gave her my phone number and I dropped her off. Rightly or wrongly I suspect that I may have delivered her back to a pimp.

Sorry to be so long-winded but I would appreciate advice for what I can do to help her if she does by chance call me. Also, I've just now put your number in my cellphone. If I ever encounter a similar situation is it acceptable for me to call your organization for emergency help? Thank you in advance for any information. I understand that you must be extremely busy."

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After the incident described above I had driven home and waited for my building security officer to finish a phone call so I could borrow a cart to carry all my packages from the car. As I sat in the lobby I noticed half a package peering at me through the building manager's office window. Large letters spelled out the word "Help" in red ink (pic above.) I kept staring at it - it seemed like a sign from the Universe.

Anyways, I did not feel ready to open all my packages last night. Instead I contacted the women's shelter, tried to eat some dinner, and tried to sleep. Today I will gather more information about emergency resources because I want to be ready if the young lady, Jessica, ever calls me again or if I ever happen to encounter someone in similar circumstances.

Not trying to depress readers with this post but I feel inclined to share the episode because I know I'm supposed to learn something from it. In my next post I will return to erotica as usual. What struck me the most yesterday was the stark dichotomy between the circumstances of Jessica and myself. There I was motoring home with a carload of gifts from kind, generous friends and supporters and Jessica was recovering from a truly brutal attack by someone I suspect may have been a "john". Jessica did not admit she was prostituting but the circumstances seemed to suggest it. I work completely in the realm of consenting adults and Jessica may not even be old enough to consent and yet we both coexist as workers in the so-called "sex trade". I do hope she calls me.
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