My Vegas Testimony: Sex Slave Scam

Recently I've landed a job for TFC USA as a personal assistant with the freedom to continue my modeling. I was to be trained in Las Vegas for two months while studying my finance books for my financing license. My pay was $35 an hr, housing (hotel)and food was paid for. then I was to re-locate to Atlanta, Georgia to the corporate office. Too good to be true? Indeed it was. I flew over to Vegas with my life packed in my luggage to begin a new chapter. Before I had left I checked out every possible detail of this job and even my mother spoke with my "boss" and gave me the thumbs up. Upon my arrival my new "boss" greats me at baggage claim. An African-American who severely needed a haircut, dressed in a black, suede jogging suit and tennis shoes paired with a striped polo shirt. Not the image I had expected in meeting my new "boss" that would be paying me $35 an hour and is supposedly banking being the owner of this million dollar company. He explained to me he had lost his wallet with all of his credit cards, cash and identification when I asked for his I.D. to send a photo of it home. That should have been my first sign. As my mother has always said to me, "You're too trusting StormyGayle and one day it will bite you in the butt." And I was. I gave this man the benefit of the doubt and understood that people sometimes lose their wallets. He asked me for the money in my wallet and I then explained that I had to spend my cash on my luggage to fly with me and how expensive airports food and drinks were. In other words, no dude, you're supposed to be MY boss, paying ME. There was my second sign that I over looked. He declared we'd have to say at the airport till morning until we could go to a western union to pick up some money. I asked how so if he didn't have an I.D. and he replied with I told them to send it in your name. Again I understand he had lost his wallet along with his I.D. to I overlooked that as well. If someone had owned a company and were paying for all of my expenses along with $35 an hour couldn't they just call their office and have a car sent over? Or even one of his employees to be there to get us? There's my fourth sign I missed. After sitting in the airport for a while, I complained about how exhausted I was from my traveling and couldn't wait to get to my hotel "The Gold Spike." Then my job description changed and I realized I was now a victim of a sex slave scam. Terrance Douglas, my new boss, then said "Well how tired are you? We can go make some money right now, we're in Vegas, men come here to party, gamble, and have sex. If you see 10 men in one day and charge them $$ for an hour than you'll have this amount of money in this amount of days." BAM! PawPaw flashed in my head along with images of my family and friends over the years, images of my loved ones searching for me, images of my loved ones crying over the mangled remains of my sold, used body. I played it cool, no matter how horrible the thoughts were in my head and how much I was freaking out on the inside, I remained cool, calm and collected. I excused myself leaving my luggage and taking my purse and phone with me to the ladies room. I called home to my mother and explained to her what was going on, to call Dad and tell him because I was leaving the ladies room and returning to my baggage and not trying to raise suspicion. Terrance Douglas was not the person I thought he was so I did not know how he would react if I didn't play along until finding my safest exit. I returned to our seats and my Dad called. He was freaking out telling me to get the hell away from him, to call the police and I was having a completely different conversation with him. "Ok Dad, I'll text you my license number for that paperwork so you can send it in for me" and hung up. Now I can only imagine what my parents are going through at this point and ignored it and put my phone on silent and ignored their calls while digging in my purse pretending to look for my I.D. when I told my new "boss" I thought I had dropped it and was going to the desk to see if anyone had turned it in. I approached the desk and spoke in a low voice for them to act normal, and as I explained to them what was going on and I needed them to call the police for me I lost it and the sting of the first tear smudged the picture perfect makeup I had applied before my flight in order to look my best for my new "boss." They called the police and he was arrested and during me filling out my report I read on the detectives notes the real name of my "boss." The man I knew as Terrance Douglas was actually Terrance Granberry. He had scammed me under the pretense that I was to have this badass job and he was really going to sell my body in Las Vegas. I'm so thankful I made it back home. I never have been more appreciative of waking in my own bed and seeing the loving faces of my family and friends and as irritated I use to get at my dogs, Jake & Jasmine, for licking me I am appreciative I get to have them love on me again. I hope my testimony and my story will help others see that it can happen to anyone. I feel embarrassed and ignorant, I know I shouldn't because that's how well put together the scam was, but normally I do. I never ever for a second thought I would ever be put in such a position in a million years, but it can happen to anyone. I hope some will learn from my story.

My Mr. Darcy

The soft melody the words form when I hear them escape your thoughts and conquer your lips. I feel them veil my brain and seep through my veins. Warming my tender, floral scented skin to the touch. So much that I needn't any other forms of "motivators." I close my eyes, envisioning you worship the pallet of my love with every teasing flick. I yearn to feel your long eyelashes lightly brush the moon-side of my natural breast as you trail kisses leaving imprints so that it will always remain familiar. I can almost feel your weight crushing the breath out of my lungs, causing my breath to become off pace. I dream of feeling the abrasiveness of your calloused, hard working hands grazing upon my open exposed persons. I begin to melt as if I can actually feel your hot breath moistening the base of my neck. Rise in the task with me as I let your name trail off from my throat and burn my lips as the sensations chatter my teeth. Give me the intensity of a bull in a china shop and the romance of Mr. Darcy. I soar to new heights and harder recoveries when you're in mind. I beg for release but I continue to climb higher into levels of overwhelming extents I'd only heard of. Taunting spells quake through out my blood stream. I begin to drown on the endorphins maximizing the flurries of pleasure you send shooting through me. My skin becomes taut and my muscles contract. I can feel the tickling through my neck and send fire to my ears. How I wish you were here to squeeze me during my moment of pure ecstasy. Grounding me and protecting me in my most vulnerable state. Molding into me and sharing the vibrating pulses shooting through me temple. I wish you could see me after my release has ended and my body tingles with hints of exhaustion. To have you smolder me while gazing into my dazed, heavy eyes as I'd lazily grin down at you. Blow whispers upon my fleshy landscapes creating the uprising of warmed goosebumps. But you're not here and I'm alone. So the fantasies of what I wish from you are still just so. Just my fantasies, The excitement of the unknown, making the juice worth the squeeze. Feed you chickens later.

Ms. JoAnne Wants World Peace

Tonight as I gazed upon the stars in my companionless attempt of my own harmony; I cried. I cried like a infant does when it's overtired and can't find relief in sleep. Saturday I drove 3 hours to Lufkin, Tx to do a beer tasting for Sam Adams. That morning I came in heat. I worked the three hours at the first location 12 to 3. I was not notified that my second location time had changed from its first scheduling for 3pm to 3:30pm. So I worked with what I had. My day consisted of driving the three hours to Lufkin; working 3hrs on my feet with no sitting priveledges from 12-3. Did I mention in heels? That was part of my uniform. Then working 3-6 at the second location, in heels, with no sitting priveledges. To my fortune the first location was so slow, not many clients were coming through. I took it upon myself to leave 30 minutes early, taking my time gathering my things and clearing with the locations manager. My back was killing me, my feet hated me and I had no midol. Ladies, I'm sure you can understand the torture I was going through. I stopped at a small depot called 'Lufkin BBQ' right next to my second location on Chestnut St. I sat in a booth worn out with a glisten of fresh perspiration veiling my face from the 3.4 seconds of humid heat I was exposed to from my car to the depot door. An older woman, about early to mid-50's, greeted me as my server and asked what I'd be having to drink. The seemingly cheerful and kind woman wrote down my answer of Dr. Pepper as she smiled and introduced herself as JoAnne. She scuttled off and I made a phone call home to check and see how my grandfather was doing, feeling, and letting him know how handsome he was that day. Joanne returned and politely sat my drink and straw infront of me along with two of the best biscuits I ever ate and scuttled off again giving me privacy and I suppose time to look at the menu. I ended my conversation on the phone with love and best regards and the thumbs up for a phone call any time of day or night, and begin to butter a biscuit. In no rush I sat trying to have a minute of rest and enjoyment during my time of uncomfort and finish my biscuit and sipped on my Dr. Pepper and never looked at the menu. JoAnne returns, "Are you ready to order ma'am?" I look at her and say "JoAnne, I'm going to spend no more than $7 here today, including tip. Rather you give me brilliant service or not I'm leaving $7 on this table because that's all I have with me. So with that being said I'll take whatever that will buy me and you can keep whatever's left." Now I'm no one to be shabby on a tip. If you give me good service, I'll leave a $20 tip, permitting it's in my budget of course. However I was short on cash, and had just filled up my gas tank and not depositted my checks in my bank account. So I was honest and not embarrassed. She brought me a sliced beef sandwhich with pickles and all the trimmings, a refill on my drink, and more biscuits in my basket. Just as genuine as anyone could be she smiled and small chatted on my business in Lufkin and then departed from my table. I finished eating one biscuit and like always, half the sandwhich then just ate the rest of the inside leaving the other half of bread to the side. I signaled JoAnne and asked for my bill and she replied with, "I took care of it." I disagreed of course and told her how thoughtful yet unneccisary it was and refused. She didn't back down and told me to pay it forward. I nearly froze in awe to that sentence. I thanked her a million times and stacked my plate and silverware just to be nice and left for my next location. The next 3 hours went by smoothly, there weren't many clients coming in and I just sat there and thought of Ms. JoAnne. I was s happy that I found another person in the world actively in the pursuit of world peace. <3 Before driving the three hours back home I stopped at an O'reilly's auto parts store to get some glass wipes to clean my inside windshield that I had accidently gotten armoral on while cleaning it the day before and saw a little boy. He was barefoot with his monster truck stick on tattoos and uneven ear to ear grin as he drooled over the hot wheels car toys. He asked his parents, who were buying quite a bit of money's worth of auto parts, if he could get one. I suppose they were his parents, and as his mother looked at his father I heard him say in his head that he hadn't enough money to spare from all the parts he was purchasing to fix their car. She turned her attention back to the little boy answering with a "No." There was a little red, two seater, convertible Hot Wheel for sale for $1.99 and I replayed the moment I saw that little boy in my head. I had just pulled up, tired, worn out from the day, dreading the three hour drive back home and exited my red, two seater, convertible sports car. He stood there staring at my car like it was a Lamborghini or Corvette, and it made me feel good. I grabbed that toy, let the cashier scan it, bought my wipes, grabbed my bag and approached the little boy and handed him that little car. He declared his gratitude and I told him to pay it forward, when you're nice to others, then others would be nice to you, and I left. Forget that I was crying earlier? I was crying because I was so happy that I get the opportunity to meet people like that all the time and only wished I could be as good hearted. Buenos Noches my Little Chickens. Till I feed you another day. =) </body></p></p>