BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE

I am Estelle. I have never had to take responsibility for my actions. My mother’s greed and lack of morals coupled with my self-indulgence got me here.  Now here I am right smack in the middle of the worst repercussion of my life and the bitch left me to handle it all alone.

I knew I was different from as soon as I could reason. My mother’s fixation with my grooming and appearance was awe inspiring. As young as three years old, I had realised that there is something about me. I only always see me in the mirror but Estelle the analytical sees the girl that makes people gasp and gawk.

ESTELLE AND GRACE
 25 years ago, a young prostitute named Grace landed a big fish. A French expatriate with an oil servicing company. She was his common law wife for six years. Four of which they shared with their daughter Estelle.
One day he upped and left never to be seen again. Grace was shaken. She had become complacent and existed as a housewife grateful for her position.Theirs was a peaceful home. There was no indication of  Jacques Duval's intentions. He had simply gone on a very usual trip home and never returned.

He used to cuddle me and kiss me and call me Princess. He told me stories of France, and taught me to say "viva la France". I loved kissing and cuddling with him.  The smell of tobacco on his bushy white beard spelt safety for me.  I couldn't believe that he would do that to me. I couldn't process it and so I waited but  on my sixth birthday my heart broke into tiny pieces as it finally dawned on me that he was gone and wasn't coming back. It was obvious he didn't want to be found. Mother was stunned. She wore her bitterness like perfume, it was every where. He rejected us.

My childhood memories are filled with pain. My childhood was filled with pain. Mother poured all her venom and energy into Estelle the product. She told me often how I was lucky to be "half caste" and that because of that we could and would never go hungry. It was years later that I understood. She sold the house, which he bought in my name and we lived on the funds realized. At six I started wearing a "back board" to "correct" my posture. I wore it for twelve hours almost everyday until I was ten years old. My shoes were also always a size too small for as long as I can remember, the result are a pair of dainty feet; prone to excruciating aches and pains but pretty and small. I had a palm oil rub applied to my body every fortnight after which I would spend an hour soaking in fresh milk in the bath tub. By the time I turned twelve, I was easily the most beautiful child for miles, everyone wanted to be friends with me. That wasn't perfect enough for mother; I spent my thirteenth birthday and the three subsequent weeks in bed,  on my side in a rented apartment in Florida. I had just had a Brazilian butt lift. All the extra fat from my stomach and back was refined and injected into me to produce one of my biggest assets. Of course I had to do the procedure all over again when I turned eighteen because my body had reabsorbed about a quarter of the  fat.

Then I began to wear a waist training corset. There are few more uncomfortable things. I protested, with my heart and soul but I was no match for mother. I got into a fight at school because the other kids thought there had to be something wrong with me for wearing such an undergarment. My teachers were shocked when mother rushed in, in response to their calls and was only concerned that I wasn't bearing and I wasn't going to be bearing any scars. I remember in the early days, I used to sleep with my hands tied to the bed post so I wouldn't take off the itchy, itchy corset.  Mother was scathing in the cruellest way and I quickly learnt the value of staying on her good side.

So you see, to Estelle, pain is a woman's life. To give pleasure to men you must endure pain.  Three months before I turned fourteen, it started. Estelle the commodity was birthed. I finally found out what mother's lover Dangana did for a living. He was a big time pimp with powerful connections. His racket was procuring kids and teenagers for the high and mighty..... paedophiles. I have to give it to mother and Dangana though, my "friends" were only cream of the crop, bonafide power brokers, visiting world leaders etc. They were very generous; and very sick men. I was surprised at my first "friend". He was the serving vice president of a first world country. He slobbered and wept as he took my virginity. I was used to pain, what was his story?

The rewards afforded us a good life style. One time, when I was fifteen I remember having sex with a fifteen year old boy for the viewing pleasure of the president of a West African country, half way through he joined us. To cut a long story short, this is my childhood.

TO BE CONTINUED...